The Tribune

101 years ago this weekend, Lt Robert Tatton Bower, of the Royal Navy, wrote a letter to his father, giving a first hand account of the largest World War 1 naval battle from aboard HMS Inconstant. Lt Bower’s descendants have Bahamian connections: his son Paul, came to the islands and was Publisher of The Nassau Guardian while his grandsons, Nigel and Bobby, are known business figures in Nassau.

My dear Father,

I hope Mother got my letter to say that I was all right. I wrote as soon as we got back. I will try to tell you all I know of the show on Wednesday (May 31, 1916).

We were cruising near the coast of Denmark, in our usual position, with the battle cruiser fleet (BCF), and as far as we knew individually, there was no particular reason to suppose that the Germans were about.

I had had the forenoon watch, and was asleep in the wardroom when the buzzer, which is set going for action stations, started. We all went up, thinking it was a submarine or a suspicious merchant ship, but found that the Galatea, our flagship, had sighted the enemy on the starboard bow. We could see them, and they appeared to be three cruisers and several destroyers.

The nearest ship opened fire at a range which must have been at least 17,000 yards, and as she had bigger guns than us, and could outrange us, we sheered off to port, at the same time making our report to the flagship of the BCF.

After about half an hour, the BCs had come up about ten miles on our starboard beam, we thought to strafe the cruisers that we had sighted, but by this time the German BCs had appeared, and they engaged at very long range. At this moment, our friends turned away, and bolted back to rejoin their own fleet, so we followed at full speed.

We were then going directly astern of the German BCs, and we could see that as yet the range was too long and both sides were firing short. At this time the four ships of the Queen Elizabeth class got into action, and we could see the flashes of their guns far away on the starboard bow. They must have been firing at the High Seas Fleet which had just been reported by Goodenough in the Southampton, for the volume of fire on the side of the enemy increased enormously.

It was a very misty day, and as we approached the BCs we noted that they had turned away from the enemy, and were firing astern. They seemed to have suffered little damage, but the Queen Mary and the Indefatigable were not there. We did not find out until long afterwards that they had been sunk a few minutes before, when the BCs had been under the fire of nearly the whole German fleet.

The BCs now turned towards us, still blazing away, and doing well, while the other four followed them. The two fleets were now in parallel lines steering about South East, with a gap between the BCs and the four battleships. Just at this time, the Grand Fleet appeared in four columns, and steering at right angles to our course. They deployed into single lines at once.

As they came up, preceded by the Defence and another cruiser, probably the Black Prince, we exchanged a few rounds with a German light cruiser, which was not far off. Owing to the presence of about forty destroyers at the head of the Grand Fleet, we found ourselves being “ridden off” and were obliged to cross the bows of the Colossus, and finally found ourselves about two hundred yards on the wrong side of our battle line, between them and the enemy.

The enemy then opened fire, and we had a very warm ten minutes, being almost scorched by our own side, while the enemy’s short shots fell all around us. After being straddled by four twelve point twos we hastily dodged back. During these few minutes, the Defence had been still firing at the aforementioned light cruiser, and had very foolishly got between the lines and stayed there, about a thousand yards nearer the enemy than our battleships.

Suddenly either one or two of the big ships opened fire on him, and about two minutes he was hit. I think the whole salvo must have taken effect, because he simply burst into a sheet of flame, I should say about five hundred feet high. It was the most awe inspiring sight.

All this sounds like a series of tragedies for us, but you must remember that while it was happening the enemy were being pounded, so much so that they turned away in the mist. One of their battle cruisers blew up and sank, probably the Lutzow; another one hauled out of the line, burning like blazes, and was never seen again; and a battleship of the Kaiser class was seen to be sinking. I saw one German destroyer disappear in a sheet of flame and smoke.

Just before dark, when with the BCs we had got a few miles ahead of the battleships, we had a short sharp action with the leading ships of their line.

It only lasted twenty minutes, and no damage was done. It was too dark. As a result, however the enemy were driven to the North Westward, leaving us between him and his base. During the night a division of our destroyers made a very gallant torpedo attack. Out of five, only one returned but she reported that they got their attack home, and she saw another Kaiser class ship turn turtle and sink, after being struck by several torpedoes.

In the morning, it was hoped to finish them off, as they were obviously very demoralised, but it was even worse weather than the day before, and although we swept all day, they got home in the evening, probably by way of the Skagerrack. In fact it was the “Pommern”. There is every reason to believe that they made their report before they got home, as it is very inaccurate. Our losses are exaggerated, and theirs are minimised. Our full report will not be known for some time, as the action was fought in the enemy’s waters, and all the destroyers have been employed since.

It is regrettable that our losses were so heavy but theirs were at least equally so, and they were only saved from annihilation by the Devil’s own luck. Another two hours of daylight, and hardly a ship of theirs would have escaped.

I have lost a dozen friends in the various ships. I think Digby Willoughby is the only one you know. He was commander of the Indefatigable, and I am afraid there is little hope of him being saved. Tell Mother that Hanly was in the Queen Mary, and I am afraid is gone and that David Wainwright was in one of the destroyers which made the attack and was lost.

Clare Viner was in a destroyer which was disabled and all the officers killed or wounded except himself. They were towed in safely.

For ourselves, we got off with one hit and no damage done, which I think is miraculous considering the corner we got into. I really thought we were in for it, especially as we had just seen a ship four times our size blow up.

If, as I think, we shall have a casualty list of between four and five thousand killed alone, what on earth will it be like on “the DAY”?

I must say that we all thought the day had come at last and the disappointment was very bitter when we couldn’t find them the next morning.

I should think it will be called one of the most indecisive affairs in history, but still, we oughtn’t to complain, as at one time we had the worst of it. I hope you will be able to follow this very garbled account. Don’t let it get into other hands. There is no harm in showing it to people whom you can trust.

Love to you all,

Your loving

Bob