“Well, the destroyers just put paid to that heavy cruiser! Let’s see if we can get a kill of our own!” Gordon said, watching the drama unfolding roughly twelve thousand yards to his west. Another salvo of 15-inch shells landed to Exeter’s starboard, this broadside somewhat more ragged due to the heavy cruiser’s zig zagging advance.
“Battleships are returning to aid us.”
“About bloody time!” Gordon snapped.
When the Warspite’s first salvo landed just aft of Jean Bart, Admiral Bey had more than enough. Signaling rapidly, he ordered the Scharnhorst and Lutzow to cover the remainder of the force’s retreat. Firing a few desultory broadsides, the Franco-German force reentered the mists.
Eric watched through his binoculars as Lutzow gamely attempted to follow Bey’s orders, slowly coming about so she could continue to engage the destroyers closing with Scharnhorst. Barely making fifteen knots, the pocket battleship was listing slightly to port and down by the bows. Just as Lutzow finished her turn, several shells landed close astern of the German vessel.
“King George V is engaging the pocket battleship.”
“Good. Maybe she can slow that witch down so we can catch her.”
“Warspite and Prince of Wales are switching to the closest battleship.”
Gordon nodded his assent, continuing to watch as Lutzow attempted to begin a zig zag pattern.
“Destroyers are running the gauntlet,” Gordon observed drily, pointing to where the Lutzow was engaging the five destroyers passing barely eight thousand yards in front of her. Eric nodded grimly, then brought his attention back to Lutzow just in time to see the King George V’s next salvo arrive. Two of the British 14-inch shells slashed into the pocket battleship’s stern, while a third impacted on the vessel’s aft turret with devastating effect. Eric was glad that Exeter was still far enough away that he could not identify the contents of the debris that flew upwards from the gunhouse in the gout of smoke and flame, as the young American was sure some of the dark spots were bodies.
“Looks like you got your wish, sir,” Eric observed as the Lutzow began to continue a lazy circle to port. There was a sharp crack as the Exeter’s secondary batteries began to engage the pocket battleship, leading to a disgusted look from Gordon.
“Tell Guns we may need that ammunition later,” he snapped. “I’m not sure those guns will do any damage, plus she’s almost finished.”
I was wondering what good 4-inch guns would do to a pocket battleship, Eric thought. Especially when Norfolk is pounding away with her main battery and a battleship has her under fire.
“King George V is inquiring if we can finish her with torpedoes?”
Gordon looked at the pocket battleship, now coming to a stop with fires clearly spreading.
“Report that yes, we will close and finish her with torpedoes, she may assist in bringing that battleship to bay,” Exeter’s master stated.
“Norfolk is firing torpedoes,” the talker reported.
Eric brought up his binoculars, focusing on the clearly crippled Lutzow. As he watched, one of the German’s secondary turrets fired a defiant shot at Norfolk. Scanning the vessel from bow to stern, Eric wondered if the gun was the sole thing left operational, as the pocket battleship’s upper decks were a complete shambles. Looking closely at the Lutzow’s forward turret, he could see two jagged holes in its rear where Norfolk’s broadsides had impacted. The bridge was similarly damaged, with wisps of smoke pouring from the shattered windows, and the German vessel’s entire amidships was ablaze. The vessel’s list appeared to have lessened, but she was clearly much lower in the water.
“Should be any time now,” Gordon said, briefly looking at his watch. “Tell guns to belay my last, we’re not wasting any more fish on her than necessary.”
Eric turned back to watching the Lutzow, observing as Norfolk hit the vessel with another point blank salvo an instant before her torpedoes arrived. Given that the Lutzow was a stationary target, Eric was surprised to see Norfolk’s torpedo spread produce only a pair of hits. It was still enough, as with an audible groan the Lutzow’s already battered hull split just aft of her destroyed turret. Five minutes later, as Exeter drew within five hundred yards and Eric could see German sailors jumping into the sea, the Lutzow gave a final shuddering metallic rattle then slipped stern first into the depths.
“Stand by to rescue survivors,” Gordon said, dropping his binoculars. “How are the destroyers doing with that battleship?”
The answer to Gordon’s question could be summed up with two words: very well. The Scharnhorst had briefly managed to work up to sixteen knots, and had Lutzow’s fire been somewhat more accurate, may have managed to escape the pursuing destroyers. However, as with the Hipper, Vian’s destroyers split into two groups even as Scharnhorst’s secondaries increased their fire. Another pair of hits from Prince of Wales slowed the German light battleship even further, and at that point the handful of tin cans set upon her like a school of sharks on a lamed blue whale.
Like that large creature, however, even a crippled the Scharnhorst still had means to defend herself. As the Punjabi closed in from starboard, the battleship’s Caesar turret scored with a single 15-inch shell. The effects were devastating, the destroyer being converted from man-of-war to charnel house forward of her bridge. Amazingly, Punjabi’s powerplant was undamaged by the blast, and the destroyer was able to continue closing the distance between herself and the larger German vessel. The timely arrival of a salvo from Warspite sufficiently distracted the Scharnhorst’s gunnery officer, preventing him from getting the range again until after both groups of destroyers were close enough to launch torpedoes.
Severely damaged, Scharnhorst still attempted to ruin the destroyers’ fire control problem at the last moment. To Commodore Vian’s intense frustration, the battleship’s captain timed his maneuver perfectly, evading twelve British torpedoes simply by good seamanship. Had Scharnhorst had her full maneuvering ability, she may have then been able to pull off the maneuver Hipper had attempted by reversing course. Whereas geometry and numbers had failed the German heavy cruiser, simple physics served to put the waterlogged battleship in front of three torpedoes. Even then, her luck remained as the first hit, far forward, was a dud. Then, proving Fate was indeed fickle, two fish from the damaged Punjabi ran deep and hit the vessel just below her armored belt. Finishing the damage done by Prince of Wales’ hits earlier, the torpedoes knocked out the German capital ship’s remaining power and opened even more of her hull to the sea. Realizing she was doomed, her captain ordered the crew to set scuttling charges and abandon ship.