The British Royal Navy's battlecruiser squadron and the Second Battle Squadron now found themselves in a dire crisis. After the loss of the battleships Invincible, Indefatigable, and New Zealand, only the Tiger, Queen Mary, and Princess Royal remained to hold the line against the six German battlecruisers.
Though the German vessels had also sustained hits in previous engagements, their robust defenses, combined with the inadequacies of the British gunnery, had spared them from suffering any catastrophic damage. Remarkably, these battlecruisers retained their combat effectiveness, leaving the British battlecruiser squadron entirely under pressure.
Meanwhile, the three Queen Elizabeth-class battleships of the Second Battle Squadron were similarly besieged by the German Second Battlecruiser Squadron. Supported by three Moltke-class battlecruisers, the Derfflinger-class vessels dominated the engagement, placing the Royal Navy in a precarious position. Unless a miracle occurred, the fate of the British battlecruiser squadron and the Second Battle Squadron seemed all but sealed.
The Royal Navy was already at a disadvantage in terms of capital ships, and losing both the battlecruiser squadron and the Second Battle Squadron would result in the loss of nine additional capital ships. Such a setback would render any hope of defeating the German Navy exceedingly slim, let alone achieving a mutually destructive confrontation.
"How did the battle come to this?" Vice Admiral David Beatty was on the verge of despair. His battlecruiser squadron had dwindled to just three vessels, and under the German onslaught, sinking them appeared inevitable. This outcome was far from what he had anticipated; indeed, he had never envisioned such a scenario.
"Admiral, the Second Battle Squadron is engaged with the Germans and cannot guarantee its own safety. What are our next steps?" an officer inquired.
It was evident that they had reached a critical juncture; failure could lead to total annihilation.
At this moment, Beatty found himself without any viable options. The appearance of the German Second Battlecruiser Squadron had signified a complete breakdown of their plans; the previous strategies had become obsolete.
"Report the situation here to Admiral Jellicoe. Inform him that we await his orders," Beatty instructed.
In these circumstances, he could only defer the responsibility to Admiral John Jellicoe, the commander of the Grand Fleet. In this moment of utmost peril, it was he who must make the final decision.
Approximately fifty kilometers away from the battlefield, a massive fleet was advancing southward at a speed of twelve knots. This fleet, comprising over a hundred vessels of various sizes, was heavily guarded by numerous smaller ships surrounding several imposing battleships. Among them, the Revenge-class battleships, displacing over thirty thousand tons, stood out as particularly noteworthy.
On the flagship HMS Revenge, Admiral John Jellicoe sipped bitter black coffee, a drink devoid of sugar, which served to invigorate him amidst the fatigue of a sleepless night.
"Sir, the Fifth Battle Squadron has joined us," an officer reported.
Jellicoe nodded; the three Bellerophon-class battleships and three St. Vincent-class battleships represented the earliest examples of dreadnoughts built by the Royal Navy. Despite their numerous deficiencies and the moderate power of their 305 mm guns, their combined presence was a significant boost for a navy suffering from a severe shortage of capital ships.
"Have we received any news from Admiral Beatty?" Jellicoe inquired.
"None as of yet," the officer replied.
Jellicoe fell silent, his concern for Beatty's battlecruiser squadron and the Second Battle Squadron growing. A victory for Beatty would be advantageous, potentially allowing them to realize their strategic objectives.
However, Jellicoe knew that achieving victory would be exceedingly difficult, for their adversary was exceptionally strong. Countless previous encounters had already demonstrated the formidable might of the German Navy; each time they believed victory was assured, they faced humiliating defeat.
Minutes later, a communications officer hurriedly approached.
"Admiral, a dispatch from Beatty," the officer announced.
Jellicoe immediately took the telegram and scanned it with urgency. As he read, his expression darkened.
"Damn it, how could this happen?" he exclaimed.
The meticulously prepared plans had once again unraveled. The battlecruiser squadron had lost three vessels—though they were the weakest of the lot, such losses were nonetheless grievous. Furthermore, the Second Battle Squadron had succumbed to the German siege. Clearly, their losses would only mount.
In light of the catastrophic defeats suffered by both the battlecruiser squadron and the Second Battle Squadron, the Royal Navy had already lost this naval engagement. Even with twenty battleships at his command, Jellicoe found himself devoid of any confidence in achieving victory.
The most prudent course of action would be to order an immediate retreat to Scapa Flow, preserving the Royal Navy's capital ships and maintaining a glimmer of hope for future engagements.
Yet, Jellicoe also understood that such an order could not be given, for it would contradict their strategic objectives.