The Battleship Book. Robert M. Farley
was older than most of the American battleships of the day, but not all, and not much older. If bombers could sink her, then they could likely sink all but the most modern of the American standard type battleships. Three other issues made the exercise problematic, however. First, Ostfriesland was stationary, considerably simplifying the problem of bombing. Although Mitchell insisted that bombing a moving ship would be easier than a stationary target, no one took this claim seriously.
Second, Ostfriesland was in poor shape, and lacked a crew. German battleships were well-known for their thorough compartmentalization and their watertight integrity, but looters and poor maintenance had made sealing Ostfriesland impossible. The battleship was already taking on water before the bombing began. More importantly, with no damage control teams on board, even relatively minor damage could prove lethal. Finally (and in the only point that supports Mitchell) Ostfriesland had no munitions aboard. This rendered the battleship effectively immune to loss through catastrophic explosion, although the bombs used by the Army Air Service probably couldn’t have penetrated the magazines anyway.
Ostfriesland in American service
The first attacks by the bombers caused relatively light damage, but later attacks by heavier aircraft caused extensive flooding, eventually causing Ostfriesland to roll over and sink. Reportedly, several USN admirals wept at the sight of her destruction.
Mitchell violated the rules of the exercise, but not to the extent that it made much of a difference to the outcome. The Army Air Service sank Ostfriesland and a variety of other old American and German vessels, helping both services to learn a great deal about targeting and bomb damage. Mitchell’s interest was in propaganda, however; he used the sinking of the old battleship to argue that surface vessels of any kind were effectively obsolete in the face of determined air attack. It bears note that Mitchell was not predicting that surface ships would become vulnerable at some point in the future. He made clear his belief that the USN was already obsolete as of the early 1920s.
Ostfriesland in American service
The US Navy rejected this, arguing that the German ship was old, small relative to new US ships, carried no anti-aircraft armament, and could not maneuver. A fleet under steam, the admirals argued, could not be so destroyed. But both services took the tests seriously. In battleship refits after 1921, the US Navy substantially increased the anti-aircraft weaponry of its main units. Mitchell was surely correct that aircraft would eventually take a devastating toll on battleships; aircraft would sink at least fourteen battleships in World War II, the largest single cause of loss.
Author’s Note
SMS Ostfriesland has become a footnote in the history of American naval aviation. Sailors, soldiers, and airmen bitterly debated the rules and process of her sinking, as well as precisely what could be learned from her loss. Mitchell’s career ended in recrimination and disgrace, although he helped set the terms on which the Air Force would win its independence after World War II.
As a battleship, she was an effective but not particularly inspired unit. The Japanese also adopted the hexagon turret distribution patter for a time, despite its inefficiency. Even had the Washington Naval Treaty not intervened, it’s not likely that Ostfriesland would have survived long beyond 1921.
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Preceded… SMS Friederich der Grosse
Contemporary of… USS Utah
Fought at… Jutland
SMS Goeben
Yavuz Sultan Selim
Yavuz Selim
Laid Down: 1909
Launched: 1911
Completed: June, 1912
Displacement: 23,000 tons
Main Armament: ten 11” guns (five twin turrets)
Secondary Armament: twelve 5.9” guns (casemates)
Speed: 27 knots
Treaty: Pre-Washington Naval Treaty
Major Engagements: Mediterranean Pursuit, Bombardment of Sevastopol, Dardanelles, Battle of Imbros,
Fate: Scrapped, 1973
After the abortive hybrid armored cruiser Blücher, Germany responded to the British Invincible class battlecruisers with Von der Tann, a 20,000 ton warship carrying eight 11” guns, capable of 27 knots. As the Royal Navy continued to build battlecruisers, the Kaiserliche Marine determined to keep pace with its own battlecruiser squadron, alongside the larger dreadnought battlefleet.
Germany followed up Von der Tann with two ships of the Moltke class, Moltke and Goeben. Because Germany lacked a long naval tradition, the ships of Kaiserliche Marine took their names from famous German generals. Goeben was named after August Karl von Goeben, a Prussian infantry commander from the Franco-Prussian War. The Moltkes represented an incremental improvement over Von der Tann, but all of the German battlecruisers of the First World War demonstrated stability, longevity, and the ability to absorb damage.
The battlecruisers (along with their armored cruiser predecessors) were, by virtue of their speed, more flexible than the dreadnoughts, and capable of deployment on stations distant from the North Sea. In the years prior to the war, Germany deployed naval squadrons around the world to protect its burgeoning colonial empire. War came so quickly that some of these squadrons were trapped in unfriendly waters, chased by superior British forces.
Goeben and the light cruiser Breslau amounted to a respectable, if not formidable, German presence in the Mediterranean. Germany had two allies in the Med—Italy and Austria—but Berlin worried the two traditional enemies might fight each other in preference of France. After twenty-two months on station, Goeben badly needed a refit, not to mention the more immediate desire for coal, and Mediterranean allies weren’t eager to accommodate.
The German squadron began the war at the Austro-Hungarian port Pola, but even though the war began on Austria-Hungary’s terms, Vienna still hoped it could avoid war with Britain. Goeben headed for Brindisi, arriving on August 1, but the Italians were indifferent-to-hostile. In desperate need of fuel, Goeben (then joined by Breslau) traveled the next day to Messina, where Italian authorities again denied them fuel. The German crews literally tore apart several German merchant ships in search of coal, eventually finding sufficient stores to move on.
Admiral Wilhelm Souchon, who would later command a squadron in the High Seas Fleet, led the German detachment. He had few choices, none of them good. He could attack French convoys, head back to Austrian safe havens, or make a run for Turkey. His official orders involved interference with convoys of French troops coming from North Africa, but French and British naval superiority in the Med made any concerted offensive action nearly suicidal. Sitting out the war with the Kaiserliche und Königliche Kriegsmarine (Austria-Hungary’s navy) held little strategic appeal, as Souchon understood that adding two German ships would not tilt the military balance in the Med.
And so Souchon set off for Turkey, a choice that—surprisingly—would add nearly fifty years to his flagship’s lifespan. Thus began an epic pursuit across the Mediterranean, with effects that reverberated across World War I.
The Admiralty appreciated the threat posed by Goeben and Breslau, and had made preparations. Souchon’s squadron faced a trio of Royal Navy battlecruisers, as well as a squadron of armored cruisers. The Royal Navy expected Souchon to break west, in search of the convoys and in hope of making his way into the Atlantic. The battlecruisers Indomitable and Indefatigable guarded the western exit of Messina, Inflexible patrolled off Tunisia, and the squadron of armored cruisers patrolled the eastern approaches.