It is not always realised by “the man in the street” that in the exercise of sea power, actual fighting plays a relatively small part. In hand warfare, under modern conditions, the opposing forces are in absolutely continuous contact, and the ebb and flow of battle never ceases until one side is annihilated or driven to surrender. Naval war had never been like that. The ultimate object of the superior fleet is to control the seas-that is, to close the ocean highways completely to the enemy-and whether that control is secured either by the destruction of the hostile fleet or by instilling in it a healthy dread of putting its fate to the test of battle in the open is a matter of relative indifference.

These few general remarks are necessary to preface the story of the greatest naval action of the first two years of war-and one, further, of the fiercest and most costly of which history has any record. In the early afternoon of May 31st 1916, the light cruiser scouts of the British Grand Fleet encountered off the northwestern coast of Denmark some similar vessels belonging to the German navy. It inspired that the German Sea Fleet was “out “ in its full available strength, though with what object it had put to sea has not even yet been divulged. It is unlikely that the intention of its commander-in-chief, Admiral von Scheer, was to throw down the gage of battle to Sir John Jellicoe, nor, if he knew anything of the organization of our north Sea patrol, could he have hoped to cut off any appreciable part of our forces before reinforcements came up sufficient to deal comfortably with the German navy. Speculation on these points is not very much use. The facts-which are all that we have to deal with-are that when the advanced flotillas of the German fleet were somewhere near the Skagerrak-the first gateway into the Baltic-they found themselves engaged with the light craft standing out ahead of Vice-Admiral Sir David Beatty’s Battle Cruiser Division.

It was at 2.30 in the afternoon that the curtain went up on a drama that was to prove to the hilt the valour and the efficiency of the British seaman of the twentieth century. At that hour the light cruiser Galatea, Commodore E. S. Alexander-Sinclair, senior ship in the fringe of scouts, wirelesses to the battle cruiser astern that enemy ships were in sight. It was not a very uncommon message-indeed, it had been heard so often before without any sequel of importance that at first quite failed to arouse any excitement. This time, however, events developed rapidly. As pour scouts pushed on and extended their formation, they discovered the enemy to be in greater and still greater strength. From the seaplane carrier Engadine an aerial scout was sent up, with Lieutenant F. J. Rutland (an officer promoted from the ranks) as pilot, and Assistant Paymaster G. S. Trewin as observer; and although the clouds were so low that they had to fly at a height of only 900 feet, they were able to send back a message to the effect that the enemy was out in considerable force.

Meantime, Sir David Beatty was bringing down his battle cruisers, so that they could not get back to their bases in the Bight of Heligoland without a battle. Shortly after 3.30 he sighted five German battle cruisers steaming full speed in a southeasterly direction-i.e. Towards home-but the range of 23,000 yards was too great for effective gunfire. He closed in towards the enemy, which was no other than the battle cruiser squadron of the high Sea Fleet, under the command of Rear-Admiral Hipper, and in a quarter of an hour, when the distance between them had been reduced to 18,500 yards, the battle began. Before going any further, let it be said that there are two versions of this phase of the fight. One is that the Germans, finding themselves intercepted by superior forces, fled for their home waters for all they were worth. The other is that their intention was not so much to get home as to entice Beatty’s ships down the guns of the battle squadron of the High Sea Fleet, which were coming up from the south under Von Scheer. Whatever the intentions were, however it is the battle that matters.

Sir David Beatty’s flagship was the Lion, and with him were the Queen Mary, Princess Royal, Tiger, Indefatigable and New Zealand. Bringing up the rear, at a distance-unfortunately-of from 10,000 to 20,000 yards, was a division of fast battleships of the Queen Elizabeth class, under Rear-Admiral H. Evan Thomas. The exact composition of the German battle cruiser force is not certain, but it consisted of five ships, which are believed to have been the Lutzow, Derfflinger, Seydlitz, Moltke and Von der Tann. In any case, Sir David Beatty, even without the fast battleship division, had a very appreciable superiority, whether measured by numbers, the size of his ships, or the calibre of his guns.

As the two forces ran south they fought with ever increasing intensity. Our own ships had the superiority in gun power, but the Germans were stoutly built and thickly armoured, and the high state of perfection to which their gunnery implements had been brought enabled them to inflict serious damage before our own gunnery began to tell upon their moral. The battle cruiser Queen Mary (Captain C. I. Prowse) and Indefatigable (Captain C. F. Sowerby) were destroyed.

That the Germans suffered heavily need not to be emphasized. Time after time our salvos were seen to strike the enemy’s ships, and although at this stage none was actually to sink, a vessel cannot sustain the impact of a number of 850, 1,250 or 1,400 lb shells without severe damage. Our admirals were exceedingly reversed in their estimates of the injury inflicted on the enemy, and made no claim to have sunk a German ship unless it was actually seen to go down. It is obvious, however, that when a battle is being fought at the pace of twenty-eight miles an hour in a gathering, patchy mist, it is quite possible for an enemy ship reported as having been “seen to leave the line” to have sunk a few minutes after without its last moments coming under the observation of the vessels responsible.

Some of our destroyers, too, had a busy and fruitful time during this run south. Nominally, they accompanied the battle cruisers in order to protect them against submarine attack (in which they succeeded to perfection), but opportunity came to them for still more effective work. At 4.15 a division of these vessels, under the command of Commander The Hon. E.B.S. Bingham, in the Nestor, moved out towards the enemy with the object of delivering a torpedo attack. On the way they met a flotilla of hostile destroyers setting out towards our own battle line with a similar object, and a fierce ensued between the opposing craft, in which two of the enemy’s vessels were sunk without loss to us. The hostile attempt to attack out battle cruisers was thus frustrated, and our boats pressed on with their original plan. The Nestor, Nomad and Nicator rushed in at the enemy under a terrific fire and discharged torpedoes at them. By all the rules of the game they should have been sunk with every man on board, and, as it was, the only one of the three to escape was the Nicator, whose commanding officer, lieutenant Jack Mocatta, was rewarded with the D.S.O. The Nestor and Nomad were both disabled within easy reach of the enemy’s guns, and neither of them survived the experience, although, happily, the enemy saved many of those on board. These included Lieutenant-Commander Paul Whitfield, in command of the Nomad, who was specially promoted to the rank of commander, and Commander Bingham, of the Nestor, who was awarded the Victoria Cross for “extremely gallant way in which he led his division in their attack, first o the enemy destroyers, and then on their battle cruisers. He finally sighted the enemy battle fleet, and followed by the one remaining destroyer of his division (Nicator), with dauntless courage he closed to within 3,000 yards of the enemy in order to attain a favourable position for firing the torpedoes. While making this attack, Nestor and Nicator were under concentrated fire of the secondary batteries of the High Sea Fleet. Nestor was subsequently sunk.”

In the meantime, our battle cruisers, with the light cruisers of Commodore W. E. Goodenough’s squadron spread out ahead, were still hotly engaged with Hipper’s force. The battle was still travelling south at high speed, and the German admiral doubtless thought he was leading Beatty on into a trap from which he would be unable to extricate himself. Soon after 4.35, however, the Southampton Goodenough’s flagship in the scouting squadron-signalled the approach from the south of the German battle fleet.

It was one of the crucial of the fight. ~If Beatty, who now had the enemy battle cruisers well in hand, had gone on, he would certainly have been annihilated; but he obviously had nothing to gain by throwing his ships away. He might have turned off sharp to the right-to the west making for England and safely; but that was not the game. From the British point of view the battle was only beginning. Our battle cruisers turned a complete half circle. Where they had been running almost due south, they turned almost to due north. Where they had been steaming down into the jaws of the High Sea Fleet’s battle squadrons they now began to play a game of their own-to lead the Germans back to the main divisions of the Grand Fleet. When the battle began Sir John Jellicoe with his battle squadrons had not been very far behind the battle cruisers, but the high speed of the latter had widened the gap by many was miles. It was 4.42 when Sir David Beatty turned his squadron about to avoid the German battle hour and a quarter passed, with hot fighting every inch of the way, before the leading battleships of the Grand Fleet were sighted miles to the north.

The action was now reaching its real culminating point. In spite of the loss of two of his ships, sir David Beatty was gradually driving the enemy further and further towards the Danish coast, and when our battleships were sighted he saw that the supreme moment had arrived. He out on speed, and, turning sharp to the east, drove straight across the head of the enemy’s line. As he did so, a fresh division of battle cruisers, led by Rear Admiral the Hon. Horace Hood in the Invincible, took station ahead of Beatty’s division and although the Invincible was destroyed in the close range melee that followed, the German force was thrown into the utmost confusion by our tactics. So completely were they demoralized that two of our most lightly armed cruisers, the Yarmouth and the Falmouth, carrying only eight 6-inch guns apiece, stood in towards the leading ships of the enemy, which carried 11 and 12-inch guns, and fired their guns and torpedoes at them for some time without sustaining any injury themselves.

For some time mow the weather had been growing unfavourable. Before the Grand fleet came in sight the sea was covered with a patchy fog that enabled our ships to get only an occasional glimpse of the enemy, and as our battleships came down from the north they found it difficult to tell friend from foe-for one ship is very much like another in a mist at 20,000 yards. Nevertheless, the Grand fleet came into action magnificently, and it was only robbed by the fortune of war from reaping the full harvest of Sir David Beatty’s gallantry and skill. The latter officer had himself escaped from the rap the Germans had prepared for him. More than that, he had led the Germans on into such a position that, with ordinary luck on our side or with an absence of luck on either side-the enemy could have looked for little short of annihilation.

Then it was that Nature had her say. The mists deepened. Our leading battleships had not been in action more than a few minutes before the sea became so obscured that the battle degenerated into a sort of blind man’s buff. By this time it is beyond the slightest doubt that the enemy had no other thought than to escape the overwhelming force arrayed against him-and the circumstances were all in his favour. From the easterly course on to which Sir David Beatty had driven him, he turned first to the south and then to the southwest, and when, towards nine o’clock at night, our main squadrons caught their last glimpse of the enemy, he was apparently heading for the open sea. Throughout the night there were occasional bursts of fighting as opposing groups or single ships sighted each other for a few minutes in the darkness, but under such conditions there could be no approach to organized battle. In the misty night the enemy-or what remained of him-succeeded in getting back to his ports, and although our ships scoured the scene of action until well past noon on June 1st, no trace of a hostile ship was found. If, therefore, it had been intention of the enemy to challenge our command of the sea, he had suffered a signal defeat, for he had been pulled up within two hundred miles of his bases-and on his own side of the North Sea-and compelled to abandon all pretence of commanding even the immediate neighbourhood of his own waters.

It is still too early to say what were the material results of the action. On our own side we lost the battle cruisers Queen Mary, Indefatigable, and Invincible, the armoured cruisers Defence, Black Prince and Warrior, and the destroyers Ardent, Fortune, Nomad, Nestor, Shark, Sparrowhawk, Tipperary and Turbulent. Sir John Jellicoe’s estimate of the German losses was as follows: Two battleships of the Dreadnought type and one pre-Dreadnought were seen to sink, and another Dreadnought was so severely damaged that her survival was doubtful. One battle cruiser (the Lutzow) was sunk, and another probably sunk. Five light cruisers were sent to the bottom, six destroyers were seen to sink, and three more were so damaged that they could hardly have survived the drubbing. Finally, one submarine was sunk.

When it is realised that practically the whole of the first line fighting strength of the British and German navies was engaged in this action, it will be understood that it is impossible to chronicle here even the names of those who were rewarded for their distinguished service. The incident which appealed most strongly to the nation was one in which the hero was one of the most junior ratings in the fleet. This lad, “Boy (First Class) John Travers Cornwell,” was the only person, other than an officer, mentioned in the original dispatches of Admiral Sir John Jellicoe and Vice-Admiral Sir David Beatty, and these were the words that were used: “The fortitude of the wounded was admirable. A report from the commanding officer of the Chester” (a light cruiser) “gives a splendid instance of devotion to duty Boy (First Class) John Travers Cornwell, of the Chester, was mortally wounded early in the action. He, nevertheless, remained standing alone at a most exposed post, quietly awaiting orders until the end of the action, with the gun’s crew dead and wounded all round him. His age was under sixteen and a half years. I regret that he has since died,” wrote Admiral Beatty, “but I recommend his case for special recognition in justice to his memory, and as an acknowledgement of the high example set by him.” The posthumous award of the Victoria Cross was made, and various projects were set on foot whereby the lad’s example could be preserved for all time. A third award of the V.C. was made in the case of Major F. J. W. Harvey, Royal Marine Light Infantry, of H.M.S. Lion, who, “whilst mortally wounded and almost the only survivor after the explosion of an enemy shell in ‘Q’ gun house with great presence of mind and devotion to duty ordered the magazine to be flooded, thereby saving the ship. He died shortly afterwards.”

It is not the custom of the Admiralty to publish them or to allow anyone else to publish, details of incidents in which petty officers and men of the Fleet have distinguished themselves. For their work in the Jutland Bank battle- by which name this action is officially known-Sir John Jellicoe was made a member of the Order of Merit, Sir David Beatty was promoted from K.C.B. to G. C. B. and Knighthoods of the Bath were bestowed upon Rear-admiral Evan Thomas and Rear-Admiral W. C. Pakenham, the latter being second in command of the Battle-Cruiser Squadron under Beatty. A large number of officers were promoted, and others were appointed C.B., D.S.O. or D.S.C., while the rewards for the rank and file included (besides the V.C. already mentioned) fifteen Conspicuous Gallantry Medals and 196 Distinguished Service Medals, while one petty officer received a bar to a D.S.M. already won. One particular incident may be mentioned as showing how much a D.S.M. may mean in the Navy. When writing on the Jutland battle at the invitation of the Admiralty Mr. Rudyard Kipling, describing the experiences of a destroyer, said; “There were also three wise men who saved the ship, whose names must not be forgotten. They were Chief Engine-Room Artificer Lee, Stoker Petty Officer Gardiner and Stoker Elvins. When the funnel carried away, it was touch and go whether the foremost boiler would not explode. These three put on respirators, and kept the fans going until all fumes, ect, were cleared away. To each man, you will observe, his own particular Hell, which he entered of his own particular initiative. These three men, it will be seen, saved a ship between them. They also shared a single Distinguished Service Medal between them, Stoker Elvins being the recipient. If three men save a warship share one D.S.M., one is left to imagine what was done by the other 195 winners of the D.S.M. in the battle of Jutland Bank.

The full story of the Jutland honours and whom they were won would occupy a volume in itself, and one is compelled to mention only a few, and these in the briefest possible terms. Mention has already been made of flight Lieutenant Rutland, who went up in a seaplane to observe the enemy’s strength before the action began. He was awarded the D.S.C. for this, but he was to win a second distinction. When the action was at its height the armoured cruiser Warrior was caught by the concentrated fire of the enemy and completely disabled though, fortunately she was not sunk. She drifted about for some time, perfectly helpless until at last the seaplane carrier Engadine came up and took her in tow. It was thought then that the cruiser would last out, but she made but slow progress towards England, and at last it was decided to abandon and sink her. In darkness and a rough sea the bulk of the crew were transferred in safety, but while a wounded seaman was being passed to the Engadine in a stretcher the rolling of the ships threw him into the water. Two or three men in the Engadine immediately asked permission to go over the side to rescue him, but the captain refused. The ships were bumping together, and it certainly seemed madness to attempt a rescue. But Lieutenant Rutland, who saw the whole incident, happened not to be near superior officer. He therefore asked no one’s permission, but jumped overboard at once. Thanks to his aid, the wounded man was hoisted on board the Engadine but unfortunately he had been so badly crushed between the rolling ships that life was already extinct. Lieutenant Rutland was awarded the Albert Medal for this gallant action.

For the rest, one can take a few typical from the official report; Captain E. M. Phillpotts (H.M.S. Warspite); “At a critical time, when the Fifth Battle Squadron was turning to form astern of the battle fleet under a heavy fire, the Warspite, owing to a breakdown in her steering gear, turned towards the enemy, and get into a very dangerous position. She was splendidly handled, however, and got away to the northward clear of the enemy’s fire. Also, when nearing the Firth of Forth, much damaged, she was attacked by three submarines, and was handled in such a manner as to get her safely into port.” Captain Phillpotts was awarded the C.B.

Fleet-Surgeon Alexander Maclean (H.M.S. Lion); “performed his exhausting duties with the greatest zeal and courage. The medical staff was seriously depleted by casualties, the wounded and dying had to be dressed under very difficult conditions on the mess deck, which was flooded with a foot of water from damaged fire mains.” Awarded the D.S.O.

Boatswain W. H. Fenn (H.M.S. Barham); “Specially recommended. Was in charge of the after repair party and worked in fumes until he was overcome and removed. He returned again to the same work as soon as he had regained consciousness, and rendered invaluable services. Mr Fenn had only returned from hospital the day before the action.” Noted for early promotion.

Chief Gunner Alexander Grant (H.M.S. Lion); “With the greatest zeal and coolness went from magazine to magazine to encourage the crews in maintaining a rapid supply of ammunition, also in taking charge of fire parties and extinguishing several extensive fires.” Promoted to lieutenant.

Lieutenant R. M. Porter, Royal Naval Reserve (H.M.S. Barham); “After having been severely burned in the explosion at No. 2 starboard 6-inch gun, Lieutenant Porter personally superintended the extinction of the fire and removal of wounded and remained at his post for two hours after, when swelling from burns had closed his eyes and rendered his hands useless. His condition when he reached the medical party was critical.” Promoted to lieutenant commander.

These must be taken as typical of the Navy’s work in the Jutland battle, the first really great naval action of the war, from which the enemy escaped only because of the failing daylight and the rising fog. Its effect is to be measured not by the losses sustained on either side, the full extent of which we cannot yet know, but by the interval which elapses between June 1st 1916, and the next (or should we say the first?) attempt on the part of the High Sea Fleet to challenge the supremacy of the Grand Fleet.