Irish Voices from the First World War a blog based on PRONI sources June 1916 The Battle of Jutland, which began in the afternoon of 31 May, ended on 1 June with both sides claiming victory. On the 5 June Earl Kitchener, the British Secretary of State for War, was drowned on his way to Russia. There was heavy fighting in the Ypres Salient and around Verdun, were the Germans continued to push back the French army. On the Eastern Front the Russian under Brusilov began a major offensive which regained some territory from the Germans and Austrians. Document 1: Account of the Battle of Jutland (D4168/F/1/1) The following account of the Battle of Jutland was written by R D King-Harman who was First Lieutenant of the destroyer HMS Midge, part of the 4th Destroyer Flotilla. About 3.00 pm on 31st (Wednesday) the Commander in Chief made a general signal for all ships to be prepared for immediate action. Our formation was then about 80 miles WNW of the nearest point of Denmark, steering SE by E in normal cruising order. The Battle Cruisers and 5th Battle Squadron, we had heard nothing of, as normal, but all other squadrons and flotillas of the Grand Fleet were there. ... The Fleet were barely in sight from us, but was not really more than four miles off, on our port quarter. At 4.30 pm I went up on the bridge to take over the watch from the Sub, after completing preparations for action. There was not much to do, just a few final stews such as clearing away guns and tubes, rails, etc, and rigging hoses, placing sand and water in each compartment and closing the deadlights. We altered course to the southward, to SSE at 4.30 pm. At 5.15 pm heavy and continuous firing suddenly became audible on our starboard bow. I sent down for the captain, who came up and, after a short time, during which the firing got louder and louder, till the air simply shook with the sound, he ordered the hands to action stations. I had this piped and went round to see everything correct, then returned to the bridge to see if there was any news. - 2 - As I got there, gun flashes could be seen through the haze, more and more of them, and as I looked through my glasses up loomed a line of ships, all blazing away at an invisible enemy on their port hand. I counted six or eight of them, and more were coming out of the haze, when it struck me they were enemy ships. In another minute or two, they were quite distinct, German battleships of the Heligoland class, pouring out smoke, in line of battle, and barely 10,000 yards away. ... The Hampshire, to whom Midge was attached, signalled to the Iron Duke that ‘Enemy battle fleet steering NE in single line’, and then began turning to port. As soon as her broadside bore, she let rip a salvo at the leading battleship, with a clattering crash that made us jump. The range was closing very rapidly on account of our converging courses, and I calculated about ten minutes would see both us and the Hampshire blown to bits, we trained both torpedo tubes to port, and stood about round the guns while the Hampshire continued to let loose broadside after broadside. I was at my gun by this time, the men were simply mad to get a whack in, they had chalked all our projectiles on deck with appropriate texts, such as ‘1st August 1915, HMS Lynx’ (they have never forgotten the Lynx being mined) and ‘A present for Fritz’ and ‘Two Years at Scapa Flow’. At about the Hampshire’s sixth salvo, the leading enemy ship hit back, dropping a beautiful salvo of four 11” or 12” right between us and the Hampshire, about 200 yards from both, and sending up a splash some 300 feet high. That settled it and the Hampshire turned sharply round and made off to take up her station with the fleet. As we were turning after her there was a yak from the bridge, ‘Periscope!’, and the foremost gun opened fire. The splash of the shell was only a 100 yards or so away, and there was the beast right enough, shoving along with about 18” of his periscope showing. I got my gun on him in a second, and got off three rounds before the ship going too far as we turned to ram it. We missed it by 20 yards, and then down he went, and we didn’t get another view of him. Why he didn’t put a torpedo into the Hampshire I don’t know, he had a splendid shot but was probably flummoxed by our shell dropping round him, and more keen on getting out of our way than anything else. We closed in on the Fleet, which was deploying into line to port, the cruisers and destroyers taking up their battle stations and everybody going all out. The unseen ships - 3 - at which the enemy fleet was firing now showed up ... The Lion was on fire forward, and Princess Royal was smoking from various places, but so far as fighting went they were all right. As we looked at them, a fine sight, there was the most appalling explosion, a great sheet of flame, a cloud of smoke and spray, and the Invincible literally disappeared, blotted out in the twinkling of an eye, whether by torpedo or a lucky broadside I don’t know at the time of writing. The 5th Battle Squadron gradually broke off and formed up with the rear of the line. It was now about 6.40 (GMT) and the growing dusk and haze, together with smoke etc, were making it very difficult to see. From where we were the rear ships of the line were invisible altogether. The 2nd Battle Squadron were leading, The King George V being head of the line, and came into action about this time. The enemy were still very busy with our battle cruisers, and made a very slow and inadequate reply to them. A few shots were falling among the destroyers clustered ahead of the fleet, and it was then I think the Acasta was put out of action, receiving a big shell in her engine room. (She was eventually picked up next Day by one of the 12th Flotilla and towed into Aberdeen.) As the fleet drew out into line, more and more of them came into action, till about 7 pm, when practically the whole line was engaged, an extraordinary and wonderful sight, the flames of their broadsides were staggering, and the general scene was like a regular picture battle. The enemy apparently didn’t like the look of the fleet, for as soon as the fleet opened fire, they had turned away to starboard, and were now only visible as black smudges against the dark sky. ... We pegged it to the westward at full speed, the darkness occasionally lit by isolated guns, while about 10.30 a large ship (German we think) could be seen burning furiously a long way off. About 11.30 several searchlight beams switched on on our beam, between two and three miles off, or perhaps more. I had fallen out one watch for supper at 9.00 pm, and went below myself about half an hour later to get some tea and biscuits. All hands were closed up again about 9.45 pm As the searchlights switched on, an unseen line of ships let loose a perfect tempest of fire. Lit up in the glare of the lights was the Tipperary, heeling over, flames bursting from her top she seemed red hot. In less than 15 seconds she was foundering, still being plastered with hits. Almost simultaneously the Ardent and Fortune were lit up, and - 4 - literally blown into the air in less time than it takes to write it, most terrible to see. Another destroyer we could see twisting and turning, going full bore, and disappeared, the searchlights switched off and the whole thing was over. Achates and Ambuscade were the only ones who escaped out of this effort. It appears that Tipperary saw some ships which for some reason or other, she thought were the 11th Flotilla, making a signal to that effect to the four destroyers astern of her. Then on went the searchlights, Tipperary, Ardent and Fortune were blown to bits, Ambuscade and Achates both fired torpedoes, Ambuscade killing a cruiser, and crashed off untouched, though pursued by a torrent of shells. The range they say was barely 400 yards, if that, which shows the darkness of the night. We made at full speed towards the place where this happened, Owl signalling ‘I am going to attack with torpedoes’. We couldn’t see a view of anything, and after some time altered course again. Times and courses I have no idea of. It was not long after, say about 12.30 am that we suddenly seemed to be surrounded by ships. Two German destroyers, plainly recognisable by their silhouette, slid by us a couple of hundred yards off, exchanging shots with us as they went. Immediately the place seemed full of guns, all going off. Shots were dropping and exploding all over and round us, the red flashes stabbed out all over the place. Owl fired a torpedo ditto Hardy, we didn’t, couldn’t see anything to aim at. We zigzagged about, turned round in circles, crashing about, passed a British destroyer and then lost everything again, not a sound and nothing to be seen.