Geoffrey Freyberg

September 27th 1921

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The ‘Quest’ leaving Plymouth Sound

Sir Ernest Shackleton’s latest expedition to Antarctica on the ‘Quest’ has received much publicity, including an article in ‘The Times’ yesterday. When the ‘Quest’ finally left Plymouth on Saturday 24th September, it was a Dragon family who were amongst the last to see Sir Ernest as he departed our shores.

Commander GH Freyberg – whose accounts of the Battle of Jutland and the surrender of the German High Seas fleet in 1918 so enriched the pages of ‘The Draconian’ – is now the King’s Harbour Master at Plymouth and we are grateful to Geoffrey for this account of the arrival of ‘Quest’ at the harbour on Friday and subsequent events.

“Shortly after Captain Worsley had berthed his ship, Sir Ernest Shackleton came aboard, having made the journey from London by train the same morning.

Stores, sledges, instruments and fresh provisions were brought aboard until the tiny upper deck was stocked with packing cases containing anything from vegetable marrows and Scotch whiskey to cedar-built sleighs and theodolites.”

The following morning the wharf was crowded with spectators, newspaper reporters and photographers, ready to give Sir Ernest a good send-off on his expedition. Once all visitors had left the boat, the KHM’s steamboat (with Geoffrey aboard) and a motor launch towed the ‘Quest’ off the wharf.

Hugh Channer (1915)

“Most of the officers of the Royal Marine Barracks at Stonehouse, headed by the Colonel-Commandant, Lieut.-Col HW Channer RMLI, were gathered on Longroom hill, together with their wives, to give the little ‘Quest’ a parting cheer. Colonel Channer, who is an Old Dragon, served with distinction at Gallipoli, where he lost his left leg when charging the Turkish trenches. This gallant officer, now a well-known figure in Plymouth, had previously served for ten years with the Egyptian Army, and he holds many Egyptian decorations besides the French Croix de Guerre.”

There followed a period of time when the ‘Quest’ was moored at a buoy whilst adjustments to the compasses on board were made.

“Whilst this business was in progress a small boy, a future Dragon, was observed to clamber quickly over the ‘Quest’s’ nettings in search of his father from the KHM’s steamboat alongside. Sir Ernest spotted him and said to him, ‘I knew you were the son of a sailor by the way you came over the side. Well, you will have to lunch aboard with me now.’ But Master Richard Freyberg had other views on the subject (he is only eight) and could not be persuaded to go below, having visions of being transported to the land of the polite penguin while the meal was in progress! So Mr Douglas, the geologist of the expedition, dived below and shortly reappeared with a plateful of tinned peaches, which Richard required but little pressing to demolish!”

During this interlude, Sir Ernest had invited Geoffrey and his wife aboard to inspect his ship.

“Our party was shown everything from the cook’s galley and Sir Ernest Shackleton’s cabin to the Sperry Gyro compass and the baby Avro aeroplane… It is hoped to accomplish much useful surveying from the air. A major in the RAF is with the expedition, besides which Shackleton himself is an expert pilot of the air.

Shackleton’s cabin is a small hutch, about 6 feet square, on the port side of the deck house forward of the bridge. There is just enough room for a bunk, a folding washstand, a tiny writing table and a solitary chair. The silk Union Jack presented by HM Queen Mary was spread out on the bunk for our inspection.”

Whilst this was going on, some 200 gallons of lubricating oil were loaded and the ‘Quest’ was finally ready for departure.

“By 5 pm. the last of the oil drums was on board and stowed below. The ship’s bell rang to clear the visitors into the numerous boats alongside and we bade farewell to our kind host… We climbed over the ‘Quest’s’ nettings for the last time, taking with us Mr J Rowett the financier, and several of his friends.

The last we saw of Shackleton was when, just as the ‘Quest’ and our steamboat parted company, the explorer himself, leaning over the side of the bridge, called, cap in hand, for ‘three cheers for the British Navy.'”

Capt. Worsley – Cdr Traill Smith – Geoffrey Freyberg – Sir Ernest Shackleton – Lieut. Wild, with Richard Freyberg

Not many people get the opportunity to meet and spend some time with someone of the stature of Sir Ernest Shackleton, who made a great impression on Geoffrey:

“That Shackleton is a great leader there is no shadow of doubt. Or else why did men like Wild and Worsley leave their farms in Africa or their homes in New Zealand, at a moment’s notice, at the call of this man?

Shackleton’s personality is, I should say, as magnetic as that of Captain Scott or the great David Beatty. His deep commanding voice, with just the suspicion of an American accent, and his deliberate manner of speaking, compel the attention of those who listen. Nature, so sparing of her gifts, has endowed this man with all the attributes of leadership. A superb physique, a pair of deep thoughtful eyes, with a most determined mouth and chin complete this picture of the greatest of living explorers – ‘The Boss’ as he is known on board to ‘The Boys.'”

We will follow the progress of Sir Ernest’s expedition over the coming months with great interest.

December 18th 1920

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As another term comes to an end, we gather in items for the next edition of ‘The Draconian’.

It has been a memorable term. The great features were the erecting and the dedication of our beautiful Memorial Cross. All followed the work of erection with increasing interest, and at times the boys lent a hand in hauling the sections (one of which weighed over three tons) from the gap in the hedge, on the north side of the field, to the site, about sixty yards away. The workmen of Mr Bridgeman, from Lichfield, seemed imbued with the proper spirit, and in one day over the fortnight their job was well and truly done. The gravel path, running from the top of the field to the Cross, is a great improvement to the field, and has already become something of a Sunday promenade for visitors wishing to see what is certainly a worthy addition to the sights of Oxford.

The Dedication Service went off without a hitch. The boys had thrown themselves into the preparation for it, and the reading and singing showed the vigour and enthusiasm of the Dragon at his best.

* * * * * *

Fireworks were let off in the field on Armistice night: no casualties.

* * * * * *

Hum is including the following in his House Notes:

“The chief ‘rage’ of the term has been stamp collecting. Chess was making way at the end of term. 

River bathing was kept up by some, up to the last ten days of term. Eighteen boys claimed the reward for not missing the Cold Plunge on any morning.

Sick rooms have again been singularly deserted, except for a few cases of mild jaundice. Even the seasonable weather of the last fortnight produced only a few colds. The staff seemed to suffer more than the boys. This may be because they were not inoculated last year. We believe that the experience of the last ten months is strong testimony to the value of inoculation: and if it is considered advisable to repeat the process next term, we shall be strongly in favour of doing so.”

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As always, we are delighted to include news of our Old Boys.

On return to civilian life, Patrick Duff (whose diary extracts on the evacuation from Gallipoli made such compelling reading)  has been working as Secretary to Sir Robert Horne, the President of the Board of Trade.

In the ‘Western Evening Herald’ there was a vivid description of gallant work done by Commander G Freyberg in the great gale of October 3rd. Geoffrey is King’s Harbourmaster at Plymouth. A French barque ran on to the outer side of the breakwater when trying to make the western entrance. Huge waves broke over the ship and the breakwater. The King’s Harbourmaster went out in the lifeboat and, after saving all the crew bar one, a black cook sixty-three years old called Campbell, Geoffrey swam to the breakwater and fought his way along it, looking for the cook, unfortunately without success. The coxswain of the lifeboat said it was the pluckiest thing he had ever seen.

We remember Geoffrey particularly for his graphic accounts of the Battle of Jutland in 1916.

* * * * * *

Lastly, for the boys there is a competition for the holidays, open to the whole school, to make a Mechanical Working Model.

Mr Bradley writes:

“My idea is to give the boys encouragement to use their hands, and I think if the prize, instead of the usual book, is either tools or a box of one of the ‘Erector’, ‘Meccano’ or ‘Primus’ to the value of £1… they will be more likely to enter the competition.”

Here are the rules:

  1. Models can be made from any material, including ‘Erector‘, ‘Meccano‘ or ‘Primus‘ outfits etc. Models made from raw materials preferred.
  2. Models must be made entirely without assistance.
  3. In awarding the prize, originality, good workmanship and age will be taken into consideration.
  4. Incomplete models, well put together, have the same chance of taking the prize as finished models poorly made.

June 18th 1920

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O.D. Dinner – June 12th 1920.

The Old Dragons have had their say on our reunion, now it is my turn!

It was the greatest pleasure to meet 115 of my Old Boys and the staff at dinner in the School Hall on Saturday. I am rather proud of having only in one case made a mistake in identification. If I failed to have a yarn with each individual it was for lack of time and not for lack of will. It was strange and delightful to feel that I am the one link between them all – that in the whole wide world there is no-one else who has known them all personally from their boyhood.

Walter Moberly (left) was one of our most distinguished Old Boys in the War, being twice mentioned in dispatches and winning the D.S.O in an action that sadly cost the lives of two other Old Dragons, Will Scott and Gifford Turrell. He has now returned to Lincoln College, where he is a Fellow, lecturing in philosophy.  Frank Sidgwick (right) continues to prosper with his publishing company Sidgwick & Jackson, having had particular success with the works of the war poet, Rupert Brooke.

Geoffrey Freyberg (left), having survived the battle at Jutland and witnessed the surrender of the German High Seas fleet in November 1918 on HMS Valiant, is now the King’s Harbour Master at Plymouth.  Geoffrey Rose (right) is in the process of writing up the history of the 2/4th Oxfordshire & Buckinghamshire Light Infantry in the War, to be published later this year. Having been called to the Bar in 1912, he is returning to a legal career.

Philip Frere (left) provided the ‘Draconian’ with an account of the retreat enforced by the Germans’ Spring Offensive of March 1918 and Nevil Norway (right) having as a 17-year-old witnessed the events in Dublin of Easter 1917, served the final months of the War as a private soldier in the Suffolk Regiment.  He is now up at Balliol College, reading Engineering Science.

Maurice Campbell (left)  ended the war with typhus and malaria and was invalided home. Last year he was awarded the OBE for his services with a field ambulance and has now returned to Guy’s Hospital as a medical registrar. Pat Campbell (right) having gone straight into the Army from Winchester in 1917, has now returned to Oxford to study for a degree at Brasenose College.

Roger Mott, it may be recalled wrote to us back in 1915 of his “Balkan Find” – a memorial tablet from the time of the Emperor Hadrian, and I understand that it is now the proud possession of the new Imperial War Museum, officially opened on June 9th by King George V at the Crystal Palace.

Geoffrey Carpenter spent the War with the Uganda Medical Service and wrote to us following the Battle of Tanga, known as the Battle of the Bees. He has now returned to Oxford and is working as a Specialist Officer for the control of sleeping sickness in Uganda. He is bringing out a book later this year, ‘A Naturalist on Lake Victoria, with an account of Sleeping Sickness and the Tse-Tse Fly’, about his time there (1911-14), the introduction written by his friend an mentor Prof. EB Poulton (father of Ronnie Poulton).

Sydney Carline, whose experience of being shot down over the Somme in 1916 was reported to us by his brother George,  enjoyed the final months of the conflict as a war artist. Having returned from his tour of the Middle East for the Imperial War Museum with his brother Richard last year, they have both enjoyed a successful exhibition of their work in the Goupil Gallery in March.

Jack Gamlen was one of the most prolific of our ‘war correspondents.’ A regular guest critic of our school plays before the War, he was particularly missed here when we were putting on ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ in 1915 and he sent the boys a most witty verse.  We were delighted to have him back to review last term’s production of ‘Henry V’, even if his judgments were not always generous!

Noel Sergent, who sent us many descriptions of his time on the Gallipoli peninsula, together with a graphic account as to how he managed to escape drowning when his ship was torpedoed, we are delighted now to have on our staff, teaching French (of course) and mathematics. He is also a great asset on the river where he has been coaching diving.

Jack Smyth – whose array of medals impressed us all – was a regular correspondent in the War years. Who will ever forget the day to returned to the School with his VC? He has a busy time ahead – he is due to receive the MC on July 20th and be married on July 22nd,  but has kindly agreed to attend our Prizegiving on the 21st to give away the prizes!

There were many who were under Mr Clarke, my predecessor, and who had suffered from my mistakes and inexperience as a young teacher; and perhaps that meeting with an early generation of Dragons was of the greatest interest to me. They have had time to distinguish themselves, and many have done so…

And then, alas! there are so many whom we shall not see again at these gatherings, those who have so nobly given their lives for us.

(Of those mentioned above, a number had lost an Old Dragon brother in the War: Frank Sidgwick (Hugh), Geoffrey Freyberg (Lance), Maurice & Pat Campbell (Percy), for whom the day must have brought on very mixed emotions).

 

May 6th 1919

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Commander Geoffrey Freyberg (RN), who reported on the surrender of the German U-boats in November, has returned from a week of celebrations in Paris and Cherbourg at the invitation of a grateful French nation. He and his ship, HMS Valiant, have now returned to Scapa Flow, from where he has written to us.

The French government had wished to honour the work of the Royal Navy in the War and on April 23rd (St George’s Day) held a review of our naval troops in the Court of Honour of the Hotel des Invalides, conducted by the Governor of Paris. It was attended by both Rear-Admiral Reginald Tyrwhitt and Admiral Sir David Beatty, their staffs and various ships’ companies.

On April 26th Geoffrey and his fellow officers were taken to see Reims and something of the war-torn countryside:

“From Château Thierry and Épernay we passed through the devastated area. Every town and every village was in ruins. Famous Châteaux with their roofs battered in, with broken beds gaping out of holes in the walls, and Churches with perhaps only half the Chancel or the Choir still standing, made one realize for perhaps the first time the feelings of intense hatred of the French towards the Boche, and one now understands why it is the Frenchmen are still burning to revenge themselves…

Reims had 100,000 inhabitants before the war, but only 10% now remain. Sixteen houses only are undamaged in the City. Little or no repair has been undertaken in the devastated area owing to lack of building material.”

Reims Cathedral is in a particularly bad condition.

“Outside its western front we were met by Cardinal Luçon (aged 83) and conducted round the ruins of what was once the most glorious Church in France. The building is no longer open to the public as it is in a state of dangerous collapse, the roof lies on the floor, the High Altar has vanished and the Northern Tower looks very shaky.”

Reims Cathedral nave.

“We now motored out in the rain to Fort la Pompelle, the N.E. corner of the Reims defences and the scene of desperate fighting. All the trenches are filled in, but shells, grenades, human bones and an occasional dead horse with miles of wire lie everywhere. Two grenades went off without hurting anyone, and of course most fellows carried back trophies in the shape of broken rifles or fragments of shell.

La Pompelle Fort

A French Colonel of Infantry at one place said, ‘Gentlemen, this is holy ground, as you stand on the bodies of all my officers and most of my men. I ask you to salute them.'”

When they had all returned to Paris that evening, at the end of a very full day, they looked for some lighter entertainment:

“Although feeling rather tired, we again sallied forth to visit the magnificent Allied Officers’ Club next to the British Embassy. Finding this rather dull we moved on to Maxims, which has just been reopened after the recent brawl there, which resulted in four American and French officers being killed or wounded because an American kissed a French lady…”

November 26th 1918

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SURRENDER OF THE GERMAN HIGH SEAS FLEET

Thursday, November 21st 1918

HMS Queen Elizabeth overlooking the German surrender.

Three Old Dragons had the good fortune to witness the events of this historic day: Commander Geoffrey Freyberg (RN) on HMS Valiant, Lieut.-Commander Moray Wallace (RN) on HMS Relentless and Assistant Paymaster Percival Chapman (RN) on HMS Royal Sovereign.

The picture above, kindly sent to us by Geoffrey Freyberg, shows Admiral Beatty’s ship, HMS Queen Elizabeth, watching over a German Konig class battleship (in the distance).

Geoffrey Freyberg (HMS Valiant) weighed anchor at 3.15am on November 21st to make their way to the rendez-vous with the German High Seas Fleet:

“We glide past the heavily-fortified island of Inchcolm, the Oxcars, and Black Rock booms… past Burntisland Roads… and then out into the night towards May Island, that bleak and barren outpost of the Forth, some 30 miles from Rosyth.

Clear of the outer gate we get out our Para-vanes, one of the three great inventions of the war at sea (the depth-charge and the hydrophone being the other two). The Para-vane looks like a short torpedo with wings, it is towed from the stern and cuts moored mines adrift as neatly as a slicing machine cuts rashers of bacon. 

We pass May Island at 6.02am… and steer east (true) to meet the advancing ‘enemy,’ with whom we have been in touch by W/T since midnight…

On meeting up with the German fleet, Moray Wallace (HMS Relentless), like many others no doubt, had his suspicions as to what would happen:

“They still flew their flag, and we had a feeling of possible treachery, for the men seemed scarce on deck, and they had their binoculars on us frequently from the bridge…

At last we passed May Island and dropped anchor in the Firth of Forth near the destroyer we were to examine for general sea-worthiness and hidden explosives…

As we climbed up the ladder and under the life-lines, the hands slouched round and peered at us, smoking cigars and cigarettes; all with their hands in their pockets and clustered together for’d as we reached the upper deck…

I saw no signs of mutiny; the hands seemed zealous to bring lamps and show off anything, and volunteered explanations. Nothing was as nice as in our own ships, and paint was everywhere instead of polished brass.”

Percival Chapman (HMS Royal Sovereign) describes the moment that marked the German surrender:

“Orders were given by the C-in-C that the German ensigns were to be hauled down at sunset this evening and were not to be hoisted again – in other words, sunset marked the virtual chucking up of the sponge.

Everyone became a trifle excited as sunset approached, some people having an idea that the Boches might attempt something dramatic when the critical moment arrived, such as a little diversion in the way of explosions etc. Nothing , however, happened except that the Hun battle cruiser ‘Derfflinger’ and one of their battleships were rather late on it. This was probably due to the almost complete lack of discipline which is now supposed to reign in the Hun Navy – anyway, whatever the cause, their slackness evoked derisive cheers  from the crew of the ‘Royal Oak.’

This was the only sign of jubilation anyone gave, cheers being against orders.” 

The battle cruiser ‘Derfflinger’

As I recall, the ‘Derfflinger’ fought at the Battle of Jutland and was responsible for the demise of HMS Invincible and Charles Fisher.

No sooner had the German fleet been captured  than they became something of a tourist attraction, although Geoffrey Freyberg was still slightly wary:

“Two days later I took a party of ladies, including my own family… round the German ships at anchor. One looked at these great ships at a range of only 5 or 10 yards with a queer feeling, almost expecting that a mad German would sweep the crowded stern sheets of our steam barge with a machine-gun. The sailors looked sullen and defiant, the officers, for the most part, looked dejected and ignored our close visit of inspection…”

December 15th 1916

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In the course of the last four months a number of our gallant Old Boys have been honoured and, as the end of another term approaches, they should be recorded on these pages:

Victoria Cross (VC)

Capt. William Leefe Robinson (RFC), “for conspicuous bravery. He attacked an enemy airship under circumstances of great difficulty and danger, and sent it crashing to the ground as a flaming wreck. He had been in the air for more than two hours and had previously attacked another airship during his flight.”

Distinguished Service Order (DSO)

Capt. Harry Maule (North Lancs) has been awarded the DSO “for conspicuous gallantry when leading his company during operations. During several days’ fighting he set a fine example of cheerfulness and cool courage to those around him. He was three times knocked down by the blast of shells.” (Edinburgh Gazette, Sept. 28th 1916)

Major Ernest Knox (Sikhs) in Mesopotamia.

Major James Romanes (Royal Scots). “For conspicuous gallantry in action. He led his battalion with the greatest courage and initiative. He set a splendid example throughout the operations.” (London Gazette, Nov. 25th 1916)

Military Cross (MC)

2nd Lieut. Stopford Jacks (RFA). “He, assisted by a sergeant, organised a party to extinguish a fire in a bomb store. Although burnt in several places, he continued at the work until the fire was extinguished.” (Edinburgh Gazette, Dec. 13th 1916)

2nd Lieut. Budge Pellatt (Royal Irish). “When a Platoon was required from his company to replace casualties in the front line, he at once volunteered and led his men forward with the greatest determination, though suffering heavy casualties.”

2nd Lieut. Northcote Spicer (RFA). “For conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty in registering all batteries of the artillery brigade from the advanced lines prior to attack. He was severely wounded, chiefly from having to signal by flag, which was observed by the enemy.” (London Gazette, Oct. 20th 1916)

French Honours

‘The Times’ (Sept 16th) noted that Commodore Reginald Tyrwhitt had been made Grand Officier of the Legion of Honour.

2nd Lieut. Trevor Hoey (OBLI) has been awarded the Croix de Guerre decoration by the French Commander on the Salonika front for distinguished conduct, referred to in the Army Orders as follows:

“When all the other officers were placed hors de combat, he took command and led the final charge against the Bulgarian position, which was brilliantly carried at the point of the bayonet.”

Mentioned in Despatches

2nd Lieut. FRG Duckworth (RFA) in Salonika, Capt. WW Fisher (RN) & Cdr GH Freyberg (RN) at Jutland, Maj. EF Knox (36th Sikhs) – for the second time, Capt. RJK Mott (Staff) in Salonika, Lieut. JC Slessor (RFC) in Egypt, and Maj. RD Whigham (King’s Own Scottish Borderers) – for the second time.

It is difficult to express just how proud we are when our Old Boys distinguish themselves so.

June 13th 1916

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We have certainly had a very high opinion of our naval supremacy over recent years and some may be wondering why it was that the German High Seas Fleet was not obliterated at Jutland in the true Nelsonic style of the past. Commander Geoffrey Freyberg (HMS Valiant) suggests that maybe we have under-estimated the abilities of our enemy:

9/6/16. “Their shooting was marvellously accurate at the long ranges and their rapid fire astounding both by day and night. People at home talk of the High Canal Fleet covered with barnacles. My aunt! I should have liked to have had a few armchair critics by the side of the Captain and myself in the conning-tower that afternoon in May. They are foes worthy of our steel, but Von Sheer made one grave error.

Instead of breaking off the action when he had sunk the ‘Indefatigable,’  ‘Queen Mary’ and two new destroyers, he evidently thought he was going to smash the whole of Beatty’s Squadron and became intoxicated with success. He even finished off the ‘Defence’, ‘Black Prince’,  ‘Warrior’ and ‘Invincible’… only to find himself a few minutes later fairly landed in the arms of the great Sir John and the Grand Fleet, who gave him simple hell till 7.30, when the Huns turned and fled.”

It has been most interesting hearing Geoffrey’s account of the battle and no doubt it was of great service to the official account as submitted by the Captain of the ship.

History will decide the importance of the events of these past days. For us, whilst we mourn the loss of Charles Fisher, we are relieved that amongst the long list of those killed and wounded, there are no other Dragon names.

June 11th 1916

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Commander Geoffrey Freyberg (HMS Valiant) continues his account of the battle, revealing how he has been able to recall the events so well:

7/6/16. “It is just a week today since our little picnic at the Little Fisher Bank took place, and there has been a tremendous amount of work since. We, so the Captain tells me, were almost the only ship to keep any real record of the show at the time, as I dictated notes throughout to a Midshipman with a note-book squatting down at my feet…

There were some weird happenings: we picked up a W.T. signal from one of our destroyers from the Sub-Lieut., worded as follows:- ‘My Captain is dying, the 1st Lieut., Surgeon and gunners are all dead, my bridge has been shot away so I do not know my position as I am isolated. Request instructions.’

That boy got his ship back safely as I saw her here two days later, and if any boy deserves a D.S.C., he does.”

I think this must be HMS Onslaught, about which we read in the Daily Telegraph on June 7th.

June 10th 1916

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Commander Geoffrey Freyberg (HMS Valiant) continues in his correspondence to fill in further detail of the events of the battle off Jutland, including a story of British pluck in an unlikely quarter:

6/6/16. “The Admiral addressed us on deck this morning and said this ship was worthy of her name throughout the long day of May 31st…

One can only liken it all to some of the pictures of Hell by Gustav Doré. No artist could ever reproduce the scene on canvas, and no pen except that of a master of prose could help people to realise what it was like. I was not afraid (nobody was), but at the same time I confess quite candidly I did not enjoy all these little night picnics off the Danish coast…

The Germans claim today that at 7.30 p.m. they made (it was launched to cover their retreat) a successful destroyer attack (in daylight of course). Well, I saw it – eight huge modern boats – and a fiasco it was. We hit and stopped two; some other ship knocked out a third; two more were cut off by our light cruisers and presumably sunk; the remaining three bolted. Successful? I don’t think.

Our living crest, a very fine cock, was walking round our decks throughout the action quite unconcerned, and he went to inspect his nest towards the end of the party only to find it blown to blazes, and to get his tail feathers blown off at the same time by the discharge of our own guns. But he is quite happy now and very much alive.”

 

June 9th 1916

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We have a further information from Commander Geoffrey Freyberg, who is being kept busy writing up the events as experienced by HMS Valiant at the Battle of Jutland.

5/6/16. I’ve been at work on a plan of the scrap all day…

I must have seen as much of the fight as any man in the fleet. Beatty got hell to start with, as, to his surprise, the Huns accepted action with the utmost alacrity at 5.30 p.m. on the 31st. At 4.01 we came into action; at 4.02 ‘Indefatigable’ blew up; at 4.15 ‘Queen Mary’ ditto. Not an encouraging start, as I saw both go.

At 4.30 our Battle Cruisers legged it at 28 knots, and we were left to fight a rear-guard action; our four against eleven Huns, with the light in their favour. From 4.30-6.15 p.m. we drew them on towards Sir John Jellicoe…

‘Defence’ and ‘Black Prince’ were sunk at 6.15 as they came up and Sir John Jellicoe arrived. Then the Huns got hell till 7.25, when they broke off the action and fled.”