I have to pull out of this unfavourable tactical situation, especially as it has become even more difficult to keep an overview of the overall situation due to the deteriorating visibility. Going down south, which would move me away from the cruiser and closer to the convoy would offer the possibility of a renewed convoy attack [but] cannot be considered due to the uncertain condition of Hipper. Neither can I release the destroyers close to Hipper to let them operate against the convoy on their own. I therefore decide to pull all armed forces to the west away from the battle area.[107]
As a result of his deliberations, at 11.37 Kummetz signalled to his squadron: ‘Break off, turn away to the west.’[108]
Having been detached to finish off Bramble, 5th Destroyer Flotilla leader Friedrich Eckholdt, now in company with Richard Beitzen, had been attempting to rejoin Hipper from the north-east when the engagement with Force ‘R’ erupted.
Peering into the deepening gloom from Eckholdt’s bridge, Flotilla Commander Schemmel observed gunflashes and the dim shape of two warships ahead. Assuming that these were Hipper and Z29, Schemmel could not make out their target as the convoy should have been away to the south. At 11.42 he exchanged radio messages with the flagship:
‘Eckholdt to Hipper. I can see a cruiser and destroyer at 300°, is that you?’
‘Eckholdt to Hipper. In what direction to the convoy are you?’
‘Hipper to Eckholdt. North of the convoy.’
Schemmel could see no other ships in the rapidly worsening light and sent a hurried reply: ‘Eckholdt to Hipper. You are bombarding me.’
Astern of the flotilla leader the awful truth dawned, and Richard Beitzen sent a hurried message: ‘Beitzen to Eckholdt. No. It’s an English cruiser.’[109]
With Force ‘R’ shadowing Hipper around in a turn to starboard (see map B, p. 146), an urgent report was received on Sheffield’s bridge that a destroyer had been sighted fine on the port bow, at a range of some 4000 yards (3657 m) and closing fast. Captain Storey ordered the flagship’s helm reversed hard to port, as presenting the cruiser’s beam to the destroyer would make her a sitting target for a torpedo attack. As she swung round Sheffield engaged the destroyer, now fast approaching on her starboard bow, with all arms from her main 6 in (152 mm) down to her anti-aircraft pom-poms. Paying the price for her mistaken identification of the warships ahead of her, Friedrich Eckholdt was hit by Sheffield’s first salvo, heavily damaged by the third and was down by the stern, on fire, and a complete shambles when fire was checked after the sixteenth salvo.[110] Astern of Sheffield, Jamaica engaged Richard Beitzen but the German destroyer had better luck than her flotilla leader, turning away at speed to make her escape undamaged.
Closed up at action stations in Sheffield’s ‘A’ turret, Midshipman Twiddy could see nothing of what went on outside. As ‘phone number’, his only contact with the outside world was the telephone headset that he wore, through which came instructions from the 6 in director tower. The guns were fired automatically from the director, but the eighteen-man turret crew were responsible for loading shells and cordite, applying correct settings for training and elevation, setting fuses, and being prepared to operate all systems local to the guns should power fail or other malfunctions occur.
As Albert Twiddy recalled, the turret of a warship in battle is no place for the faint-hearted:
My vivid memories during the action are of excessive vibration as the ship was making best speed, and the acrid smell of burning cordite. The loud crashes as the bows ploughed into the heavy seas, the continuous noise of activity within the turret as the machinery for shell and cordite handling began providing the ammunition to the guns, and men in the guns crews applying themselves to the task, shouting their reports to be heard above all else that was going on. I was concentrating on listening to the orders being received through my headphones, and ensuring as best I could that I understood them, and relaying them as correctly as I knew how to those in the turret who had to obey them. I do remember well that at some point during the action when the elevation of the guns was as low, or even lower than ever I had experienced in practice and training, when the gun breeches were high enough to make the ramming of shells and cordite more difficult, the order was received to set fuses 2 at delay, and 1 at non-delay. [This enabled part of the salvo to explode immediately on contact, whereas the remainder would penetrate armour before exploding, to cause maximum damage. Fuses were in the nose of the shells and required setting manually before being loaded.]… The seriousness of the situation became apparent when the next instruction, ‘Stand by to Ram’, was given. We were just so close to the enemy that this would have been the Coup de Grâce, though how we would have fared is certainly open to conjecture… However, the order was very quickly ‘belayed’, and firing ceased temporarily. The quiet that descended was as dramatic as had been the noise, and speculation as to what had happened was rife.
As I recall we were shortly informed by ship’s broadcast that we had attacked and destroyed an enemy vessel, and for some reason which I cannot now explain, a number of us were permitted to leave the turret and go out on deck to see this dark grey wreck of a vessel a short distance away, some 200–300 yards [180–275 m] at most, listing over with her hull exposed and with fires burning at various points along her deck, so slowly passing down our ship’s side. The upper deck short-range weapons raked the burning deck with gunfire as she drifted astern of us into the darkness and oblivion. I cannot remember seeing any movement nor signs of life on board, nor could I understand why this was so… It was an eerie and to my mind ghostly vision, unreal, as though in a black-and-white film, but the flames already dying as they were, seemed to illustrate the submissive though reluctant finality of a gallant foe.[111]
Friedrich Eckholdt went down with all hands.
Kummetz must have been aware that the destroyer had run into the British cruisers, and being unable to contact her after 11.45 must have guessed her fate. With this in mind and with Hipper damaged, moreover mindful of his strict instructions not to risk the heavy ships, at 11.49 the vice-admiral signalled to both squadrons: ‘Break off battle, turn off west.’[112]
108
10 Ibid. Several German accounts of the battle state that at this critical time Vice-Admiral Kummetz received a morse code message from Admiral Kluber stating baldly ‘no unnecessary risk’. Admiral Kluber apparently intended only to underline the