The Zeppelins

The Development of the Airship,
with the Story of the Zepplins Air Raids in the World War

by
CAPTAIN ERNST A. LEHMANN
and
Howard Mingos

CHAPTER VI

THE NORTH SEA PATROL -- THE ZEPPELINS AT JUTLAND

England's aerial defensive establishment, begun early in the war, is not completed today. It has never progressed to a stage where the Zeppelin danger could be discounted. This danger then was confined within certain limits, due principally to the elements and the experimental character of the wartime airships.

Looking at that first raid from the German point of view, I have always maintained that this premature isolated raid was a most foolish mistake. It served no reasonable purpose and since it could not be followed up for more than three months, it simply betrayed our band. The enemy had time to prepare a sort of defense, thus making it more difficult for later attacks.

Nevertheless the German people were most enthusiastic. Their amazement, however, was not as great as that of the English, and later, when it was decided to continue the raids, the public took them as a matter of course. The popularity of the Zeppelins attracted the good-natured attention of the airplane raiders who nick-named them "our swelled-up competitors."

"Why don't you raid London more often?"

We grew accustomed to the question. Our one answer was: "Weather!"

It might be fog, storms or some other extreme and unfavorable condition. More often it was nothing but a stiff wind riding through a moonlit night that kept the ships away from England. In those early days a moderate gale meant that too much fuel would be required to make the flight westward, maneuver over the objective and drop a reasonable load of bombs, and at the same time have left enough fuel to cruise home. Under such circumstances the ships of 1915 could not carry sufficient explosives to make the raid worth while.

Yet London was attacked by Zeppelins many more times than was generally realized. There were hundreds of strange experiences, others more magnificent than strange, but all replete with thrilling adventure. Here was a new field of operations, concerning which the most experienced among us knew little compared to what the survivors were to learn in later years; and every flight was a new experience.

Yet the Zeppelins maintained an efficient patrol of the North Sea during every hour of 1915, and for that matter throughout the conflict. They made it almost impossible for the British navy to move without the details being reported to German headquarters immediately.

At the same time they acted as scouts and aided our navy in its many raids on the English coast, meanwhile protecting the German shore from attack and invasion. The British rarely put to sea toward Germany. And one of their reasons for holding back was the efficiency of the Zeppelin patrol.

With an average of 12 to 15 Zeppelins in commission it was possible for two or more to be cruising on patrol flights almost continuously, in all kinds of weather and in any area when and where the enemy was likely to be encountered. Very often a number of Zeppelins would be sent out on special orders in different directions.

One of their most important tasks was to help prevent the British from laying mine barrages in the German waters of the North Sea. But they seldom met the enemy vessels for the very good reason that the British attempted that work only on dark nights or in dense fogs, or when it was so violently stormy that the Zeppelins were not likely to be out. No less important was the location of the barrages after they were laid.

We were rather successful at this. Not only could the Zeppelin observers spot a mine but they often made out the inscriptions on it. In the case of a single mine it was sunk by machine gun fire. Where they formed great barriers, usually placed in two rows like a game of checkers, about 125 feet apart, small buoys were dropped at the corners of the area. These buoys held colored flags and served as markers after the radio had notified the minesweeping flotillas.

On more than one occasion an airship commander, finding that be could best communicate with the mine-sweepers in this way, landed his Zeppelin on the water, alongside the surface craft, took aboard an officer from the flotilla and then flew at about 150 feet altitude back and forth over the mine field. After the officer had obtained a complete idea of the location he was put back on his. surface ship and the obstacles were cleared away with dispatch and efficiency.

Sea landings are easy enough if the water is fairly smooth. As the great hull comes to a stop on the surface the cooling air stream created by the motion of the ship is lost and the lack of this ventilation causes the gas to warm up and expand. That would send the ship into the air, of course, were it not for a simple trick. A sea anchor is cast out and ballast tanks in the cars, which are almost as seaworthy as boats, are filled with water, the added weight counterbalancing the increased lifting power. When be wants to take off again, the commander simply discharges enough of this water ballast to make the ship rise into the air again.

While on the surface the Zeppelin can maneuver with the aid of its propellers and rudders almost as well as a surface vessel, not only in calm weather but even better if there is a steady wind to give pressure on the steering surfaces with relatively slow motion across the surface. The limitations are not due to the strength of the wind so much as to the condition of the sea; therefore an airship can land safely on the surface in almost any wind in sheltered waters or under a lee shore. Training the naval crews at Hamburg before the war we made many landings on the river Elbe and sometimes on the very small and narrow Alster Basin in the heart of the city.

The importance of the role played by the Zeppelins in the bitter and grim mine-warfare between the British and Germans can hardly be exaggerated. The British were trying their mightiest to halt the U-boat campaign and other activities of the German fleet. They pestered us constantly and with a dense belt of mines almost blocked every exit from the German corner of the North Sea.

Their efforts gained force until in 1918 they were laying in that area about 10,000 mines a month. Because this was accomplished with special submarines or at night with mine-laying ships, it could not be stopped.

It was up to the Germans to remove each day the mines that had been planted the night before. Our mine-sweepers could not have done that work with any degree of efficiency had it not been for the Zeppelins which patrolled the sea, warded off repeated attacks from the British forces and made it possible for the sweepers to operate unmolested. Because the Zeppelins cruised far ahead of the sweepers enemy attempts at interference were always frustrated by stronger German naval forces appearing at the right time and place, and in that phase of the struggle at least Germany was the victor. Britain failed to bottle up her rival in the North Sea.

For that reason the Zeppelin patrol from first to last took precedence over all other airship activities. The navy invariably received the latest craft as they were completed. The Zeppelin Company was producing an average of one airship every six weeks, a unique and stupendous piece of war work when you reflect that nothing of the sort had ever been done before. In fact, Zeppelins lay ready to be commissioned before their crews were properly trained to handle them.

It is not without good reasons that the navies and merchant marines of the world are maintaining training ships for their personnel, and requiring years of service and experience before trusting anyone with a responsible position. Even then errors of judgment and mistakes are sometimes unavoidable. The proper handling of ships of the air does not permit an exception to that general rule. Even higher standards are required.

More than a year of intense flying is necessary to work even a good crew into such shape that the commander may have confidence in its prompt and intelligent action if confronted with an emergency. As for himself and several of his assistants, such as the first officer, the navigator and the chief engineer, they should have at least one, preferably two years, of all kinds of operations before they are really qualified to cope with any abnormal situation.

Obviously that was impossible in Germany. The war would not wait for training. And I am sure it will not be taken as any personal reflection on those brave men when I say that the majority of the accidents which destroyed Zeppelins resulted from sheer inexperience. A commander learned something new on every flight, something vital to continued success.

We never knew enough about approaching weather conditions, so frequently we were up against the unexpected. Each ship involved new problems because it was of different design and performance. Therefore it required special handling.

When a clear moon or severe storms kept the Zeppelins on the ground, we set in motion the principal rule for successful airship operations: Keep the ship fit for work.

Every effort was made to maintain the craft in a condition as good as new, have it always in shape to be depended upon and withstand the maximum stress for which it was constructed. To help the crew a ground force was maintained at the station, usually the same number of men -- say 20 or 25. This force was permanently assigned to the ship and followed whenever it was transferred to another post.

Each station had its permanent force of about 100 men; but it was up to the commander of the ship to keep his craft fit. His was the responsibility. No captain of a surface vessel ever had more authority and, I venture to say, more responsibility.

The envelope or outer cover of the great hull was subjected to constant inspection. We had to be sure there were no loose parts, no broken seams or eyelets. We had to keep it clean. This work fell to the riggers. Their job was that of an "ape man." The rigger had to be agile and light in weight. He could not be subject to spells of dizziness for he had to crawl up and down on fire-ladders, on moving platforms and planks on top of the hull.

He had to crawl inside like a bee in a honeycomb, through the narrow jacket-space between the outer cover and the gas cells -- each cell in itself being as big as a flve-story building. On the later ships it was from 6 to 8 stories in height. He wore specially smooth overalls, with no buttons on his clothing, this to avoid catching and tearing holes. Like all others when they went inside the hull, be wore felt or straw shoes to prevent damage to the gas cells or framework. He had to be as skillful with a needle as a tailor and an expert with glue, paint and the weather-proof mixture known as "dope."

When the crews were not in the air or attending their ship, they were making gardens or playing football. Boredom was unknown, probably because after the excitement of twenty hours or so dodging enemy ships and shells, the simple pleasures of human existence acquire a more happy significance. At any rate, my men were quite content to spend their holidays in the tiny gardens they had created near their quarters. Of course, there were excursions. Transfer to a new station meant that everybody, including myself, would soon be strolling about the highways exploring historical spots and living for a moment the life of a tourist.

But both the army and navy Zeppelins were most active. A flight might begin at any time of day, at midnight or at dawn. The North Sea patrol was for the navy Zeppelins the same field of intense activity as it was for the allied surface craft. The airship commander had manifold duties. One was to act as a scout, seek out, locate and report the movements of all enemy commercial vessels including the so-called neutral merchant ships which as often as not were caught carrying contraband.

Since the war, I have heard many arguments concerning the ability of a Zeppelin to hold up surface craft. Many naval experts even today claim that it cannot be done. But it was done on many occasions in the North Sea. I recall one adventure -- though the identity of the Zeppelin has passed from my memory -- where two ships, one British, the other Swedish, were cruising near the Danish coast. A lightship lay a mile off. A Zeppelin appeared at mile-a-minute speed. The air was calm. Before the sailors had any idea of what was happening, the Zeppelin had dropped down to within a hundred feet of the surface. Both ships were stopped by a command from the airship.

To the captain of the Swedish boat:

"Stay where you are until further orders!"

To the British freighter:

"All hands leave this ship and row to the Danish lightship!"

Why did the British obey? Why did they not send solid shot through the Zeppelin? Because they knew that they could not shoot her down without being blown to pieces in return. At their first shot, the surface vessel would have been rendered helpless by hundreds of pounds of explosives. And the chance of bringing the Zeppelin down with one shot or a half dozen was remote, as the British had learned. Contrary to the general idea, there was no case when an airship caught fire from ordinary shrapnel.

Two minutes after all hands had left the British freighter, two bombs dropped from the Zeppelin, which by this time lay several hundred feet overhead, penetrated her decks, ripped open her seams and sent her to the bottom, keel up. Then a Zeppelin officer leaned out of a cabin window and told the Swede to continue his voyage.

One day in April, 1917, the L-23 sighted the Norwegian bark Royal. Believing that the vessel carried contraband the Zeppelin commander brought his ship about and dropped a bomb in front of her. The Norwegian knew his meaning. Soon all hands had cleared the ship and were standing by in small boats.

After a careful examination to make sure there was no trap the L-23 slowly descended until she rested on the water close to the boats. Her captain asked the skipper of the Royal for his papers. Sure enough, she was loaded with a prescribed cargo, lumber designed for use in the English coal mines. Thereupon the mate and a few men from the Zeppelin went aboard the Royal and sailed her into Cuxhaven as a prize of war.

Later, the L-40 stopped a steamer after landing on the water, her commander relying solely on his machine guns. There were one or two other cases prior to the introduction by the enemy of small calibre incendiary projectiles.

Until then no merchant vessel, however armed, had the slightest chance of fighting a, Zeppelin without inviting its own swift destruction. But when one small bullet, fired from a rifle in the bands of a sailor might set fire to the hydrogen in the airship, Captain Strasser wisely concluded that the most valuable merchantman as a possible prize could not warrant risking a patrol Zeppelin. The practice of seizing ships was abandoned.

I wrote Strasser a letter suggesting the use of the observation car and cloudy weather for a continuation of that activity, but it was not until 1918, when I had an opportunity to talk with him, that he admitted it would be feasible.

The Zeppelins engaged in running fights with enemy warships and on occasion were instrumental in preventing whole squadrons of British airplanes from being launched in a mass attack against important centers in Germany.

Three Zeppelins were out at dawn one day. At about 7 o'clock the L-19 reported by wireless:

"Several clouds of smoke sighted north of Terschelling." (Holland).

This was followed a few minutes later by definite recognition. Three British seaplane mother ships, identified by their wooden superstructures, were entering the German bay at full speed. They were escorted by several light cruisers and battlecruisers which in turn were flanked by destroyers to ward off submarine attacks. This armada was proceeding in the belief that it had not been seen. Obviously the plan was to get close to the German shore before launching the seaplanes.

Just as the aircraft were being lowered into the smooth water for their take-off, the Zeppelins appeared, not in formation but one by one, in front and on both sides. But they were not to have everything their own way. A great battle cruiser appeared, and as they turned to avoid it, the Zeppelins were forced to buck a strong headwind. This slowed down their speed and the big ship commenced sending whole salvos of shrapnel at them. The flashes showed that the cruiser was firing her biggest shells from all turrets. Slowly the Zeppelins separated, though really it was a matter of only a few minutes. One of them remained just ahead of the cruiser, leading her on toward the Dutch coast, trying to get there ahead of two light cruisers which could be seen trying to cut them off.

Up, up, higher, went the Zeppelin, while her sister craft could be seen scurrying into the haze above the mother ships of the enemy. She got within six miles of the coast of Holland before the British ships ceased firing. Then they turned back to rejoin their convoy. The Zeppelin followed slowly. The others meanwhile had been dropping bombs about the mother ships and their light escorts. This occurred only a few moments after the seaplanes had been dropped into the water; and you may imagine the excitement and confusion there on the surface. Interrupted at the very moment of launching a great aerial attack against Germany, the British found themselves forced to run away from this modern defense which also had come by way of the air and was attracting to the scene a superior number of German battleships.

The chase lasted all that day. The British had no chance of turning back for another attempt, as the Zeppelins flying high and well out of range kept on their heels until nightfall. Hours later, the airships came home, some of their gas cells punctured by shrapnel and leaking, but otherwise undamaged.

The attack was planned no doubt in reprisal for the airship raids. And it had been halted by the airships themselves. L-19 by her timely discovery of the convoy had prevented the British raid. But that airship was soon to be the principal in a tragedy.

Nine Zeppelins, including the L-19, raided the Liverpool district of England on the 31st of January, 1916. Like the rest of us with new ships at that time Commander Loewe in charge of the L-19 experienced engine trouble. The motors represented a new type, and months elapsed before they could be brought to a state approaching reliability. Loewe was the only one who did not bring back his ship.

Late on the night of February 1st, Captain Strasser, the chief, received reports from destroyers that they had been out all day on the search and could find nothing. The last thing definitely known was that the L-19 late the previous afternoon had sent a radio that she was having engine trouble. Her position was calculated as being somewhere close to the coast of Holland. The weather was bad. It was freezing cold. A thick fog hung low over a large area of the North Sea. Three airships were kept in readiness to rush to the rescue if the L-19 should be sighted and found helpless.

Next morning news reached headquarters from Holland that a Zeppelin had been seen through the fog, flying in a very low altitude; and she had been fired at by the Dutch garrisons because she was infringing on their neutrality. A few days later, Reuters sent out a news item stating that a British fishing trawler, King Stephen, had happened upon an airship drifting in the North Sea but was unable, apparently, to rescue the crew. That was all until some months later, when a number of bottles were found in fishing nets off the Norwegian Coast. One contained a message written by Loewe and addressed to Captain Strasser. It read:

"With fifteen men on the upper platform of the L-19 drifting in the North Sea. Had trouble with three engines and headwinds, consequently delay until ran into fog and drifted over Holland. We were fired at considerably. Ship was hit and became heavy, with the engines failing definitely. The 2nd of February, about noon, will probably be our last hour."

Other messages put in bottles by members of the crew stated that in the morning of that day the King Stephen of Grimsby had been alongside but had refused to take them off.

Some months later one of our submarines captured the King Stephen and brought her into a German port. Her captain stoutly denied that he had ever seen an airship; but all other members of the crew individually and at different times, told the same story. They confirmed the tale, saying that the Zeppelin crew could have been rescued quite easily but no effort was made.

The captain then offered the excuse that he had been afraid of being overpowered and having his ship seized. It may be of interest to note that no special treatment was accorded the prisoners from the King Stephen. After the war all were returned to their homes.

The case of the L-15 was somewhat similar. I have the details from the commander, Captain Breithaupt. He received orders reading:

"Attack important objects in Middle England."

As customary the details were left to the commander of the ship, Captain Strasser from his vast experience knowing that the decisions in flight must be guided by weather and local conditions at the point of attack.

Breithaupt bad been taking the L-15 over England on raids for about six months. Like the others he had encountered numerous difficulties, some brought about by inexperience and others by sheer misfortune. It was on March 1, 1916, that the L-15 was caught over the London suburbs. Airplanes attacked her like a swarm of hornets and the artillery from below managed to display unusually accurate marksmanship -- probably the best of the war. The airplanes, although they made repeated attacks and dropped bombs from above, missed their object and were finally driven off by the machine guns of the L-15. But the enemy's guns on the surface found their target. The batteries were soon sending one shrapnel shell after another into the hull of the Zeppelin. There could be but one result. The L-15 would come down, either burn or drop. Hydrogen gas was pouring from her cells.

Breithaupt turned the ship in her tracks and headed out toward Ostende. At that juncture the L-15 ran temporarily out of control. She nosed slowly earthbound in a great curve, dropping from a height of approximately two miles until she could be steadied again some 2,500 feet over the English coast. But all attempts to keep her in the air were futile. She lost buoyancy and at 1 o'clock in the morning dropped into the sea 15 miles offshore.

Breithaupt had remained in the control car. Only the steersmen were with him, all others having been sent up into the interior of the hull where the shock would not be so heavy. Masses of water pouring into the car tossed the occupants about like chips. All were badly injured. The elevator man was drowned.

The L-15 lay broken in the middle, half-submerged and sinking steadily. Members of the crew dragged themselves up on top where Breitbaupt and the rudder-man joined them.

Two hours later a fishing trawler came up but went away again without replying to requests for a boat. From the other side four fishing craft appeared, attracted by the monstrous wreckage which was only too apparent, for the nose and stern were tilted up at sharp angles. The four vessels stood off about a hundred yards. The first words to reach the castaways were: "Go to hell!" The Zeppelin men shouted back: "King Stephen! King Stephen!"

That brought a fusillade from the light guns on the trawlers, the shells passing clear through the wreck. The new punctures permitted the escape of the remaining gas which was all that kept the hull afloat. Only a miracle prevented the thing from catching fire, but Breithaupt and several others were jolted off, falling some fifty feet into the icy water.

The shooting had lasted less than two minutes though it seemed more like hours -- when it was brought to an end by the arrival of the British destroyer Vulture. A boat was sent out, the commanding officer stipulating that the survivors must remove every bit of their clothing before coming aboard. All save Breithaupt, who had been permitted to retain his clothes, were given woolen shirts, the sole article with which to begin the journey toward an English prison camp.

"Where were the Zeppelins during the Battle of Jutland?"

That question is often asked. The British battle fleet, it is generally known, was kept more or less in its home ports -- much against the desires of its personnel, I'm sure. The reasons were partly political, partly strategical. With her navy intact and undefeated England could maintain the integrity of her island territory, and on her navy depended the morale of the entire population, more especially during the military deadlock on the western front.

On the other hand the German navy, anxious to gradually weaken the enemy if it could, made most desperate attempts to force a battle on even terms, with equal strength. The German high-seas fleet made nineteen demonstrative cruises far out into the North Sea and numerous raids against the British coast.

But the London Government knew that while Germany could gain much in both prestige and actual sea power by winning a great battle, Britain had little to gain and much to lose. England could not afford to expose her fleet to substantial losses in a series of smaller battles, the object of the German strategy. Had she fallen for this sort of guerrilla warfare it was entirely within the realm of possibility that the Germans would be able to land troops on the British coast. It was also a risky business for the British fleet to penetrate with full force too far into the German corner of the North Sea. It was difficult to navigate, and bristling with submarine mines. That at least is the German view of the British policy. Their commander in chief was evidently authorized on very few occasions to go out with the full strength of his fleet. Jutland was one of these occasions.

It was in May, 1916, that Admiral Scheer, commanding the German fleet, planned a raid against Sunderland on England's east coast. By bombarding that objective he expected to bring out the enemy fleet. The entire German high-seas fleet, meanwhile, was to lie in wait south of the Dogger Banks with U-boats posted all along the English coasts. His plan was based on the cooperation of several Zeppelins.

However, fog and mist clung to all that part of North Europe for many days and combined with strong winds to keep the airships in their hangars. The weather was still uncertain as far as airship reconnaissance was concerned when on May 30th, Admiral Scheer decided to advance without the Zeppelins. This necessitated a change in plans.

As he himself has explained: "For a raid toward the Northwest, against Sunderland, a farreaching air reconnaissance was indispensable because such tactics would lead us into an area of the sea where we could not afford to accept a battle against our will."

He decided to go out without the airships but in another direction, namely toward the Skager Rack, waters just south of Norway where the neighboring Danish coast would offer protection against surprise from that quarter. This move was calculated to place the enemy's naval bases at a greater distance than those of the Germans, thus making the airship scouting less necessary.

The entire German high-seas fleet set out from their bases at 5 o'clock on the morning of May 31st. The Zeppelins L-16 and L-21 managed to leave their hangars early that afternoon. Three others, the L-9, L-14 and L-23, got away about an hour later, proceeding at once to patrol over their designated sections, from west to north of Helgoland. That trio never got in touch with the two big fleets which had begun to fight at 4:30 in the afternoon. Even the wind was against them, carrying the sound of the battle in the direction opposite their course. Still, they provided Scheer with some kind of assurance that there were no large enemy forces on his left flank at that time, thus enabling him to enter the battle with increased confidence.

Details of the battle between the surface ships have no place in this narrative, save the fact that it was waged in two principal phases, the first main engagement being between 6 and 7 o'clock in the evening when the battle-cruisers clashed, and the second -- the Battle of Jutland proper -- involving the capital ships of the high-seas fleets, from 8 until after 9:30 o'clock at night.

During the night the German fleet moved slowly to a rendezvous off Hornsriff, a shoal off the southern border of Denmark. A large part of the British fleet, which at nightfall had found itself between the Germans and the Danish coast, steamed ahead and across the German course and westward out into the open sea toward home. Another large British force was sighted at daylight between Norway and Jutland. A third British group including about a dozen capital ships, which were thought to be reinforcements from the Channel, was seen approaching at a point some sixty miles north of the coast of Holland.

All that information was revealed to the German commander shortly after daylight, and it came from the Zeppelins L-11 and the L-24 which had taken the air during the night together with the L-13, L-17 and L-22. Including the five ships which had set out during the previous afternoon a total of ten Zeppelins had been operating in connection with the Battle of Jutland. The official log of the L-11 reporting her part in that battle -- which I am citing from Admiral Scheer's description -- provides a thrilling account of an engagement between an airship and a number of battleships. It was written by the commander, Schuetze, and reads:

"At 5 o'clock on the morning of the 31st -- the day after the battle -- in the square 0,33,13, smoke clouds were sighted to the north and we made for them. Ten minutes later we could make out twelve capital ships and numerous lighter vessels steering north-northeast at high speed. To keep in touch with them while sending our radio report the L-11 kept close to their rear, occasionally flying circles to the eastward.

"At 5:40 A.M. while east of that force the airship came upon a second enemy group, six British dreadnoughts and several lighter ships. When sighted they turned westward evidently trying to join the main fleet. As they were nearer to our German fleet than the others, we clung to them. A few minutes later, however, three British cruisers and four light cruisers came in sight and steamed around to our rear, thus getting between the airship and their main fleet. The visibility was so poor that we found it almost impossible to maintain contact. We could see only one group of enemy ships at a time except at certain brief intervals when the mist scattered for a few minutes. On the other hand the enemy had our airship continuously in sight against the rising sun.

"Immediately after we had come within sight of the first group all the twelve capital ships as well as the smaller craft had opened fire on the L-11, using both anti-aircraft shrapnel and other guns, even the biggest. The heavy turrets were discharging broadsides. The bursting points of the salvos were always close together and even when the ships were submerged in the haze we could locate them by the flashes from their guns. When they came in sight again, we would receive more intensive fire. As the various groups united, the newcomers too opened fire, so that the L-11 finally was shelled by twenty-one big ships and a veritable multitude of smaller warships.

"Though this fire was ineffective and despite the fact that the entire fleet was firing simultaneously, there was no damage. The big shells whizzed by the L-11. Some shrapnel bursts were uncomfortably close. The airship was jolted incessantly by the concussions on all sides. Her framework was being badly shaken and I decided to increase the distance between ourselves and the British. They had been making a target of us for almost an hour and though they bad not scored a bit, there was no telling when they would strike us. Moving away seemed particularly advisable because the big cruisers had managed to creep up under us to a point where it seemed that they could not fail to bit the L-11. To evade their violent fire we steered off to the northeast. Then by the merest chance the fog and mist thickened, and the enemy was utterly lost to view. We searched in vain.

"Returning to our northerly course we tried to find better visibility in an altitude lower than our customary mile high. We went down as low as 1,500 feet but could not see more than one or two miles in any direction, so realized that a systematical attempt to contact again with the enemy was impossible. For several hours we flew, alternating north and south courses, keeping between the fleets. At 8 o'clock that morning the Zeppelins were dismissed by the admiral of the high-seas fleet, and the L-11 returned to her station at Nordholz."

The L-24, another Zeppelin which had found the enemy, sighted a group of British destroyers at 4 o'clock that morning off the northwest corner of Jutland. They fired at her and she replied with bombs. Cruising northward the Zeppelin an hour later found twelve British battleships steaming south at full speed. At this moment thick cloud banks intervened. They hung as low as 2,000 feet and made impossible any closer examination because the L-24 could not travel at lower altitudes without courting disaster. Had she been equipped with an observation car, her observer could have hung below the clouds while the Zeppelin cruised along through them thus having the advantage of sure protection from the lookouts on the surface.

Still, Admiral Scheer had learned enough. The L-11 and L-24 had wirelessed every bit of information immediately and he knew that with the new alignment of the various forces there was no chance of success by reopening the engagement, so he ordered the German fleet back home. In his own book recounting the details of the battle he explains that be had no reason to be afraid of another encounter though he expected that the supposedly new British fleet sighted by the L-11 would join their squadrons in the west; but on the other hand he did not feel justified in pursuing them while his airship reconnaissance was not wholly reliable owing to poor visibility. The results of such a battle would have been largely a matter of luck determined by the fog and mist.

The British commander in chief probably acted from similar motives, also knowing that he must expect to meet German submarines if he proceeded again toward the scene of battle. He also knew that his southern forces had been spotted and reported by the L-11, and he must have known that another Zeppelin might pick him up at any minute. Evidently be gave the order to retire shortly after the L-11 lost sight of his battleship fleet else it would have been seen again.

Jutland proved the value of the Zeppelins in naval warfare despite the fact that there had been no prior airship reconnaissance and the weather was decidedly unfavorable. Two of the ten Zeppelins had located the enemy which had scattered after the battle. Admiral Scheer knew the location of the three principal enemy groups while the British leader did not know the whereabouts of the Germans.

Rear Admiral W. A. Moffett, Chief of the Bureau of Aeronautics, U.S. Navy, in a statement to a Congressional committee, quoted part of a secret British report dated September 20th, 1917, giving their views on the work of the Zeppelins at Jutland. I give it here because the reader will be interested in knowing when and why the British were converted to the use of large rigid airships.

"From the results already given of instances, it will be seen how justified is the confidence felt by the German Navy in its airships when used in their proper sphere as the eyes of the fleet. It is no small achievement for their Zeppelins to have saved the high-seas fleet at the Battle of Jutland; to have saved their cruiser squadron on the Yarmouth raid, and to have been instrumental in sinking the Nottingham and Falmouth. Had the positions been reversed in the Jutland battle, and had we rigids to enable us to locate and annihilate the German higb-seas fleet, can anyone deny the far-reaching effects it would have had in ending the war? There are many other striking, though perhaps less important, successes to the credit of Zeppelins at sea -- even to the capture of the Norwegian bark Royal."

---

Chapter VII:   WINTER RAIDS OVER ENGLAND --  EFFICIENCY OF THE NEW SHIPS  |  Contents