Connors did not disappoint. He was working his table men intensely, ordering them to drop 500 yards, account for the speed and course change. The boom of the guns rattled the window as his second salvo fired. A long minute later they saw the results down range, a hit, which sent the men on the bridge to cheering. That was most unusual this early in an engagement.
Hindenburg’s lighter guns began filling the gaps between main battery salvoes, and the sea was erupting with those smaller caliber rounds, one well inside a hundred feet. The range fell to eight nautical miles, about 16,000 yards, and the main guns fired again. In that interval, Hindenburg landed a few jabs with her secondary guns, but damage to Invincible was light, her heavy armor taking most of the hits and simply shrugging them off.
Soon the thunder of Duke of York was heard aft, as she now had a good fix on the target with her weapons directors, and began to engage. Off to the south, the cruiser Bermuda joined the action, her guns good for harassment if nothing else. Captain Sanford on Sir Lancelot was also there, about a mile and a half behind Sir Percival, and he began weighing in on Hindenburg with his new 10-inch main batteries.
The roar of gunfire rolled over the dark sea, and white smoke billowed in the moonlight. Tovey could feel the speed of his ship, engines making 30 knots now as he angled to port to enable C-turret to get into the action as well. The chink of Hindenburg’s small caliber rounds was sharp on the side armor of the ship as they turned, but the damage was minimal.
“A rain of steel,” said Tovey, exhilarated. The last time he had met this adversary, it had cost the ship, and the Allied cause, dearly. Tovey had that in his mind now, Admiral Volsky’s sacrifice still heavy on him.
So many good men had died that hour, Captain Bennett, the ship’s Helmsman, Executive Officer, Senior Watch Officer, all struck dead. He might have joined them in that silent death, but for the brave actions of Admiral Volsky, who gave his life to save the ship, and Tovey’s along with it. Here was his time to avenge that loss.
He had four ships directing murderous fire at the German warship, while off to the south, the American battleship Massachusetts had come on the scene and was now dueling with Fredric de Gross. That ship had been in a running gun battle with Sir Percival, which had then turned hard to starboard to run south. ‘Percy’ was holding firm, but she had taken one bad hit from those French 15-inch quad turrets up front, and her Captain was suddenly grateful when the enemy ship shifted fire to the Americans.
With the range now closing towards 12,000 meters, Hindenburg took yet another main gun hit, this time from Sanford’s ship, Sir Lancelot. The bold Knight had stuck her with an arrow, and Sanford’s cheeks reddened with the excitement of that hit. Mister Laurence stood stoically by his side, hands clasped behind his back, watching the battle closely. He could see their present course, steering about 100 degrees southeast, would eventually run them right across the bow of the American battleship Massachusetts. He was about to mention this, but then he saw the American ship execute a turn to starboard, and now the two ships were running parallel to one another.
The fire put in by Duke of York was soon augmented by that of King George V, and now the thinking behind the deployment made prior to the battle was beginning to decide its outcome. Tovey had kept his three battleships in a line, advancing like a javelin towards the enemy, and north of the Hindenburg. He then strung out his cruisers, including Sir Lancelot and Sir Percival, south in a front opposing the enemy charge. Massachusetts had come up to bolster that line as well.
This saw all three of Tovey’s battleships engaging Hindenburg, one after another, while Fredric de Gross, Impero and Roma were all locked in gun duels with the Allied cruisers and the US battleship. The German battleship was getting pounded. Both the King George V class ships began to get hits, and soon fires were raging on Adler’s ship, though none of his main guns had been compromised, and he was still running at 29 knots. Yet those fires were serious, and they were going to get worse before they got better.
Seeing what was happening, Adler ordered Hindenburg to come hard to port, wanting to turn south, away from the northerly turn he saw the British battle line making. His thought was to add the mass of his own ship to pile on and get that American battleship, and also escape that terrible fire put on his ship by the British. Then HMS Invincible scored a most damaging hit, penetrating the forward deck, and plunging deeply into the ship to reach the magazine for Anton turret, exploding heavily. It would have been a very bad day for Axel Faust had he been there, but he was now seven miles to the south, aboard Fredric de Gross.
The explosion was so fierce that it literally ripped open the starboard side hull of the Hindenburg, with one round after another going off in a cacophony of raging hot metal, fire and smoke. That one telling blow had achieved the vengeance Tovey had come to bring, and it was going to end the career of Germany’s largest warship then and there. Hindenburg was shipping tons of water, the incoming flood so heavy that the crews could not get the watertight doors shut. The sea surged in, flooding the magazine and stopping the chaos of fire there, but now the great warship was rolling heavily to starboard, down at the bow and swinging into a heavy list. Behind that forward flooding, the superstructure of the ship had been ravaged by fire, though the two rear turrets continued to fire until the heavy list saw their guns unable to elevate.
Aboard HMS Invincible, there was an audible gasp throughout the bridge crew when they saw the great grey mass of the enemy ship roll over. Hindenburg capsized at 05:20, the guns forever silent, and now she lay heavily upon the dark swelling sea, undersides exposed like the belly of a massive whale stricken by some fatal malady and floating on the surface, a lifeless hulk. The hiss of white steam rose above the ship, as the fires amidships were swamped by the sea. Tovey raised his binoculars, taking a deep breath.
At last, he said inwardly. That was for Bennett and Slocum, Harvey and Jones, and more than anything, that was for Admiral Volsky, the man who preserved my life, and the life of this ship to bring me here again to lay heavy hands upon you in the dark. That was for Prince of Wales off Fuerteventura, and for brave Rodney, harboring that bloody key and never knowing it. That was for Renown, broken and sunk in that same battle, and for Repulse on crutches, and likely never to walk again. It was for every ship that went down in that last convoy to Murmansk, and by God, we’ll get to the Tirpitz in time. And if Bismarck ever shows me her bow wash, that bastard will get the same.
Out there in that wrecked hulk of a battleship, he imagined Captain Adler and his men scrambling for survival, and in spite of the hardness on his heart now, he ordered all ships in his task force to cease fire. We’ll not hit a man when he’s down, he thought. For those that can get into the sea and get hold of something to stay afloat, God be with you. As for me, my place was to be the Devil incarnate, demon on the sea, the hot steel hand of retribution.