The Grand Scuttle: The Sinking of the German Fleet at Scapa Flow in 1919 download epub

"The Grand Scuttle", by Dan Van Der Vet, is an excellent book (on one of those obscure topics) that was a delight to find. It is well-thought-out and and generally well-researched. It is well-written and a strikes a good balance between British and German points of view. While some reviews fault it for not devoting more space to the subsequent salvage of the sunken German warships, I found that portion of Van Der Vet's book just about right. Moreover, I'd already read "Cox's Navy" by Tony Booth (available on this website) which is a good read for those wanting more information about the salvage part of the story. As an aside, I was slightly surprised to find no mention of some bits of interesting circa 1919 U. S Navy source material, that I enjoyed using in my (as Bob Garland) "Derfflinger," a novel (also available on this website) whose back-story involves the 1919 scuttling of the German fleet.

I was very impressed with the scope of this book. The author uses the first few chapters to describe the political situation leading to the construction of the fleets, as well as the events which led to the German internment. He next covers the activities of the fleet while at Scapa Flow in depth, and, following the scuttling, completes the account with information about the subsequent salvage operations. This book is comprehensive, but not so bogged down in detail that you lose sight of the story, its reasons and its characters. Highly recommended.

Scapa Flow: Unknown today but once it held 2 navies

Great book and wonderful history. Highly recommended.

Great book

Author gives a good review of the perplexing position of the German seaman and officers prior to the armesis. Enjoyed the enclosed photos. A must read for history buffs.

The answer is - to the bottom of Scapa Floe. This book covers one of the least known and written about aspects of WWI, the fate of the German High Seas Fleet after the armistice was put into effect on November 11, 1918. Prior to reading this book about all I knew was that the fleet had been taken to the British naval base of Scapa Floe and had somehow managed to scuttle itself, leaving the British with a large mess on their hands. The hows and whys of the scuttling are covered in a very even-handed manner. Indeed, one comes to sympathize with the German Admiral, in command of the once proud and mighty fleet, now charged with preventing it from falling into the hands of the British while having to deal with mutinous crews, minimal supplies, and constant British vigilence.
The Story leading up to the scuttle itself is told in good detail. However, the extensive salvage operations carried out by the British after the event are compressed into only a few pages. This is the weakest portion of the book, but the part that could be the most interesting. Unfortunately, the reader is mostly left to guess about how the British cleared up the wrecks, a process which took almost twenty years and is still not really complete. There are a few pictures of the salvage operations added seemingly as an afterthought. However, since the book is about the events leading up to the actual scuttling itself this is not a major problem, merely a matter of personal preference. All in all this book is a good value and I recommend it to anyone with an interest in WWI naval warfare.

One young British officer not only witnessed the astonishing events, but recorded his own dramatic involvement in an account which has remained unpublished until now.

Edward Hugh Markham David - Hugh, or "Ti" (short for "Tiny") to his family - was 18 years old in 1919, but had already been in the Royal Navy for two years.

By June he was a sub-lieutenant aboard the battleship HMS Revenge, flagship of Admiral Sir Sydney Fremantle.

Fremantle was the man charged with guarding the interned ships of the German High Seas Fleet in the Orkney anchorage of Scapa Flow.

On the morning of Sunday 21 June, the British fleet steamed out on exercise. Hundreds of miles away, in Paris, the wrangles over the peace treaty to officially end the Great War were reaching a climax. The fate of the magnificent German warships was due to be decided.

The German commander, Admiral Ludwig von Reuter, believed that his ships were about to be seized as spoils of war and divided up between the victorious Allies. He felt duty-bound not to let that happen.

At 10:30 von Reuter's flagship, Emden, sent out the seemingly innocuous message - "Paragraph Eleven; confirm". It was a code ordering his men to scuttle their own ships.

Beneath decks, German sailors immediately began to open seacocks - valves that allow water in - and smash pipes.

There have been many accounts of the drama that followed, but Hugh David's version of events has never been published.

The BBC has put the full letter online at bbc.com/news/magazine-33152438

Highlights:

"The sight that met our gaze as we rounded the Island of Flotta is absolutely indescribable," wrote David.

"A good half of the German fleet had already disappeared, the water was one mass of wreckage of every description, boats, carley floats, chairs, tables and human beings, and the 'Bayern' the largest German battleship, her bow reared vertically out of the water was in the act of crashing finally bottomwards, which she did a few seconds later, in a cloud of smoke bursting her boilers as she went."

The Germans took to small boats to escape their sinking ships. From one of them Admiral von Reuter was taken aboard HMS Revenge.

"About the most dramatic moment of the whole day was the meeting of the English and German Admirals," wrote David. "The two men were about the same height, both fine looking and tall."

Although von Reuter later recalled this conversation in his memoirs, David's record appears to be the only contemporaneous one:

"At first there was a pause, the German standing at the salute then the following conversation -

Fremantle: I presume you have come to surrender?

Von Reuter: I have come to surrender my men and myself (with a sweeping gesture towards the fast sinking ships) I have nudding else.

Pause

Von Reuter: I take upon myself the whole responsibility of this, it is nothing to do with my officers and men - they were acting under my orders.

Fremantle: I suppose you realise that by this act of treachery [hissing voice] by this act of base treachery you are no longer an interned enemy but my prisoner of war and as such will be treated.

Von Reuter: I understand perfectly.

Fremantle: I request you remain on the upper deck until I can dispose of you.

Von Reuter: May my Flag Lieutenant accompany me?

Fremantle: Yes, I grant you that.

The drama recorded by David took place at about 16:00 that Midsummer Day. It seems David was then ordered to join a boarding party to try to save the few German ships still afloat.

"I strapped a revolver round my waist grabbed some ammunition and leapt into the drifter with an armed guard and took off to save the Hindenburg," wrote David.

The Hindenburg was the biggest German battlecruiser. She sank as Hugh's small boat drew alongside but before he climbed on board "very nearly taking us with her."

David's launch turned instead for the giant battleship Baden, sister of the Bayern. She was the only German battleship the Royal Navy succeeded in saving.

"We then got alongside 'Baden' who was going down fast and hurried below to see what we could do to save her - we closed watertight doors which kept her up temporarily but she eventually had to be towed ashore," explained David.

"We found one little German sub-lieut (sic) below who was dragged onto the upper deck."

The German said that he didn't mind if he was shot straight away. David, however, doesn't record whether the unfortunate man was shot, but there's no doubt that others were. They were the final casualties of World War One - the Treaty of Versailles was signed a week later on 28 June 1919.

"The terrible part of the whole show, to my mind, was that the Huns hadn't got a weapon between them and it was our bounden duty to fire on them to get them back to close their valves," wrote David. He describes the British as being in an "awful position".

Andrew Choong, Curator of Ships, Plans and Historic Photographs at the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, has read a transcript of David's letter.

"I think it's an absolutely fascinating account. Our knowledge and analysis of this event are based on the recollections of the great and the good, like von Reuter and official reports. I haven't ever seen an account of a similar experience. Here's a mid-level officer placed right in the middle of it all."

Choong was struck by David's feelings. "Here is a man who comes across first as a human being and is obviously very uncomfortable about the whole thing," he says.

"I think it's very moving because there is no relish in what he's doing and he finds time to mark the acts of German bravery. It's a remarkable document."