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Rules of Game: Jutland and British Naval Command
When published in hardcover in 1997, this book was praised for providing an engrossing education not only in naval strategy and tactics but in Victorian social attitudes and the influence of character on history. In juxtaposing an operational with a cultural theme, the author comes closer than any historian yet to explaining what was behind the often described operations of this famous 1916 battle at Jutland. Although the British fleet was victorious over the Germans, the cost in ships and men was high, and debates have raged within British naval circles ever since about why the Royal Navy was unable to take advantage of the situation. In this book Andrew Gordon focuses on what he calls a fault-line between two incompatible styles of tactical leadership within the Royal Navy and different understandings of the rules of the games.
480 pages, Paperback
First published September 30, 1996
About the author
Andrew Gordon
4 books3 followersGilbert Andrew Hugh Gordon is a Reader in the Defence Studies Department at King's College London, where he is the Maritime Historian. His first degree was a BSc Econ (Hons) in International Politics at Aberystwyth College, University of Wales. His second was a PhD in War Studies at King's College, University of London.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 49 reviews
March 7, 2019
One of the best accounts I have read that truly explains why the Battle of Jutland unfolded as it did. It covers all the technical and human aspects of the action, as good military history should, but then adds a whole new dimension. Gilbert plunges into the backgrounds of the main protagonists and the morays of the Victorian navy to come at the root causes of why they acted as they did. We are all prisoners of our pasts, great leaders as much as the rest of us. All military history should be done this way.
July 11, 2023
The Failed Test.
Following Admiral Viscount Nelson’s stunning victory at the The Battle of Trafalgar off the coast of Cadiz in 1805, the Royal Navy had unprecedented command of the oceans and prestige few organisations have been able to emulate. What followed was 111 years of coasting, stuffiness and tedium. The RN had been too successful and this stunted any forward thinking and any growth. The Admiralty refused to move with the times, give up sail in a time of coal and steam and became focused on painting ships rather than testing combat capabilities. It went from consciously competent to unconsciously incompetent. Andrew Gordon’s Rules of the Game shows how this long period of sleep ensured that when the test did come on 31/05/1916, the much larger Royal Navy Grand Fleet under Admiral Sir John Jellicoe failed to destroy Vice-Admiral Reinhard Scheer’s German High Seas Fleet.
The Rules of the Game was first written in 1995 and has been considered a classic on the topic of the First World War and naval warfare. The eminent Great War historian Nick Lloyd had put this book in his top ten books on the subject. However, I found this book extremely frustrating. The writing style of Gordon is difficult to follow, often tedious and this creates a slow read. I really don’t enjoy books where I read a page and I have to go back and read half again, as the writing is jumbled and incoherent. Often having to say it out loud to really think what is the author trying to say. Gordon also likes to pursue the detail, some of this of course is essential, in other areas almost ridiculous and I feel that Gordon hasn’t found the right balance in this book.
What Gordon gets right is the explanation of the slow decline, with the RN unknowingly allowing itself to drift into mediocracy. This and the tying together of complex personalities and networks of the period. From Lord Charles Beresford, Jackie Fisher, Jellicoe and Admiral Sir David Beatty. These personalities play huge roles, especially within the battle itself. Jellicoe, more gentle and reserved and his subordinate Beatty, more aggressive and charismatic. Importantly he shows the blind obedience to orders which stumped any flexibility or common sense in the moment, which led to the collision and sinking of the HMS Victoria in the Mediterranean fleet manoeuvres of 1893. The calculations and signals were wrong, the ship knew this but went ahead anyway, as orders are orders with disastrous results.
Gordon goes into detail on the battle, the ships involves the distances between them, and provides diagrams of the movements and accounts of those on board the vessels themselves. This was a huge coming together of Dreadnoughts and smaller or older battlecruisers and destroyers. Over 6000 British sailors lost their lives to the 2,551 German casualties. The failure for the British was the distance between ships, the misunderstanding of signals and confusion throughout. This divided the assessors into two camps, the Jellicoe and the Beatty which ultimately led to changes in RN policy and strategy. Both sides claimed victory to certain degree and to both it seemed to achieve some of their objectives. The High Seas Fleet destroyed more ships, killed more men, a clear tactical victory. But then slipped away in the night and never came out of port again, turning back to submarine warfare. This allowed the Grand Fleet a strategic victory, a contained Germany and command of the seas once again.
This book was for me, frustrating and a slow struggle to read. However the depth of knowledge and analysis is very impressive. Gordon just isn’t able to put this in ink a coherent and readable way. As I mentioned above, it is also tedious in places, but the diagrams provided by Gordon are extremely helpful in explaining the complexities of movements of ships and naval warfare. He has essential themes and doctrines which follow from this book, including a slow decline of any military body without being tested for so long. But it is also analysis of military culture and how this can be counter productive. This decline has been addressed well Robert K Massie, which I recommend. Overall I’m glad I have been able to extract Gordon’s expertise but I don’t think I’ll ever read this one again.
Following Admiral Viscount Nelson’s stunning victory at the The Battle of Trafalgar off the coast of Cadiz in 1805, the Royal Navy had unprecedented command of the oceans and prestige few organisations have been able to emulate. What followed was 111 years of coasting, stuffiness and tedium. The RN had been too successful and this stunted any forward thinking and any growth. The Admiralty refused to move with the times, give up sail in a time of coal and steam and became focused on painting ships rather than testing combat capabilities. It went from consciously competent to unconsciously incompetent. Andrew Gordon’s Rules of the Game shows how this long period of sleep ensured that when the test did come on 31/05/1916, the much larger Royal Navy Grand Fleet under Admiral Sir John Jellicoe failed to destroy Vice-Admiral Reinhard Scheer’s German High Seas Fleet.
The Rules of the Game was first written in 1995 and has been considered a classic on the topic of the First World War and naval warfare. The eminent Great War historian Nick Lloyd had put this book in his top ten books on the subject. However, I found this book extremely frustrating. The writing style of Gordon is difficult to follow, often tedious and this creates a slow read. I really don’t enjoy books where I read a page and I have to go back and read half again, as the writing is jumbled and incoherent. Often having to say it out loud to really think what is the author trying to say. Gordon also likes to pursue the detail, some of this of course is essential, in other areas almost ridiculous and I feel that Gordon hasn’t found the right balance in this book.
What Gordon gets right is the explanation of the slow decline, with the RN unknowingly allowing itself to drift into mediocracy. This and the tying together of complex personalities and networks of the period. From Lord Charles Beresford, Jackie Fisher, Jellicoe and Admiral Sir David Beatty. These personalities play huge roles, especially within the battle itself. Jellicoe, more gentle and reserved and his subordinate Beatty, more aggressive and charismatic. Importantly he shows the blind obedience to orders which stumped any flexibility or common sense in the moment, which led to the collision and sinking of the HMS Victoria in the Mediterranean fleet manoeuvres of 1893. The calculations and signals were wrong, the ship knew this but went ahead anyway, as orders are orders with disastrous results.
Gordon goes into detail on the battle, the ships involves the distances between them, and provides diagrams of the movements and accounts of those on board the vessels themselves. This was a huge coming together of Dreadnoughts and smaller or older battlecruisers and destroyers. Over 6000 British sailors lost their lives to the 2,551 German casualties. The failure for the British was the distance between ships, the misunderstanding of signals and confusion throughout. This divided the assessors into two camps, the Jellicoe and the Beatty which ultimately led to changes in RN policy and strategy. Both sides claimed victory to certain degree and to both it seemed to achieve some of their objectives. The High Seas Fleet destroyed more ships, killed more men, a clear tactical victory. But then slipped away in the night and never came out of port again, turning back to submarine warfare. This allowed the Grand Fleet a strategic victory, a contained Germany and command of the seas once again.
This book was for me, frustrating and a slow struggle to read. However the depth of knowledge and analysis is very impressive. Gordon just isn’t able to put this in ink a coherent and readable way. As I mentioned above, it is also tedious in places, but the diagrams provided by Gordon are extremely helpful in explaining the complexities of movements of ships and naval warfare. He has essential themes and doctrines which follow from this book, including a slow decline of any military body without being tested for so long. But it is also analysis of military culture and how this can be counter productive. This decline has been addressed well Robert K Massie, which I recommend. Overall I’m glad I have been able to extract Gordon’s expertise but I don’t think I’ll ever read this one again.
April 11, 2020
On June 2nd 1916, as the battlefleets returned to their respective anchorages, the question "What in the hell went wrong at Jutland?" began to be asked.
Andrew Gordon has gone a long way to suggesting a number of answers in this deeply learned and fascinating book. I'm not really capable of giving it the academic review it deserves, but will note some highlights:
1. One of Gordon's main arguments is that the seeds of Jutland were planted in what he calls "the long, calm lee of Trafalgar." The Royal Navy was busier than one would expect in those years, but while there were single ship actions, a few bombardments, the triumph of shutting down the Atlantic slave trade, dealings with troublesome locals, and the odd small boat raid, there was no fleet action at sea after Trafalgar and as a result the Navy literally forgot what the important principles of action were and, worse, what the important characteristics of fighting admirals were.
2. Gordon discusses the military characteristics of autocratic and authoritarian officers in detail. The Victorian Navy sprouted a hideous number of authoritarians, one weirder than the next - the CO who had his boiled white shirts sent out to the Pacific in sealed boxes, the idiot arguing with a subordinate over whether a black spot in a toilet was dirt or a flaw in the porcelain, the captain who took his uniform coat off before praying because a captain of one of HM's warships could not be seen to kneel before anyone...it goes on and on. Many of these men were exceptionally brave -there were VCs among them - but as fighting officers leading fleets they would have been next to useless and they spawned a crowd of followers who would impede the rat-catchers who wanted nothing more than to engage the enemy more closely.
3. There was brief hope in the late Victorian period in the person of Admiral Sir George Tryon, CINC Mediterranean Fleet. His aim was to develop a system of action maneuvering using as few signals as possible, and relying more on the initiative of his subordinates. This came to an abrupt end when he joined the long list of British admirals lost with their flagships in accidents (Gordon gives the list, of course).
4. Gordon obviously doesn't like David Beatty, who was a rat-catching autocrat par excellence. Beatty was indeed not a nice man; great military leaders almost never are (or, in Beatty's case, near-great). Gordon dances around this in an amusing way until coming to the end of the book where he pretty much agrees that Beatty was more right than Jellicoe though still seriously flawed (not least in his flag lieutenant, who he kept around for utterly mysterious reasons).
5. Gordon feels obvious sympathy for John Jellicoe, CINC Grand Fleet, and Hugh Evan-Thomas, VA5BS. The first was a timid man, worn out by the time of Jutland, the second seems to have been a very nice man but strikingly dim, and both deserve less sympathy than he gives them. Evan-Thomas' bumbling south long after the battlecruisers had turned and were vanishing north in a cloud of coal smoke and cordite fumes remains probably the most unforgivable part of a strikingly confused battle. You literally have to ask yourself what in the hell he was doing, signal confusion or no.
6. There are a lot of fascinating side topics - Freemasonry, the cult of signals, the utterly bizarre world of the 19th century royals, polar exploration - and in addition Gordon provides the most utterly readable and necessary set of endnotes I have ever seen. The book is also marvelously organized.
This is an important book for anyone trying to puzzle out what went wrong at Jutland - more so now when Jellicoe has an ever-present grandson waving his flag, and when TV shows continue to claim that the British lost the battle (really! One side went home, coaled and ammunitioned, and were ready to go back out in two days. The other scuttled back to port and hid). It is long but will repay the time, as it's not just thorough, it's beautifully written.
And, a quarter century later, The Rules of the Game could use an update incorporating new research and discoveries. Mr Gordon?
Andrew Gordon has gone a long way to suggesting a number of answers in this deeply learned and fascinating book. I'm not really capable of giving it the academic review it deserves, but will note some highlights:
1. One of Gordon's main arguments is that the seeds of Jutland were planted in what he calls "the long, calm lee of Trafalgar." The Royal Navy was busier than one would expect in those years, but while there were single ship actions, a few bombardments, the triumph of shutting down the Atlantic slave trade, dealings with troublesome locals, and the odd small boat raid, there was no fleet action at sea after Trafalgar and as a result the Navy literally forgot what the important principles of action were and, worse, what the important characteristics of fighting admirals were.
2. Gordon discusses the military characteristics of autocratic and authoritarian officers in detail. The Victorian Navy sprouted a hideous number of authoritarians, one weirder than the next - the CO who had his boiled white shirts sent out to the Pacific in sealed boxes, the idiot arguing with a subordinate over whether a black spot in a toilet was dirt or a flaw in the porcelain, the captain who took his uniform coat off before praying because a captain of one of HM's warships could not be seen to kneel before anyone...it goes on and on. Many of these men were exceptionally brave -there were VCs among them - but as fighting officers leading fleets they would have been next to useless and they spawned a crowd of followers who would impede the rat-catchers who wanted nothing more than to engage the enemy more closely.
3. There was brief hope in the late Victorian period in the person of Admiral Sir George Tryon, CINC Mediterranean Fleet. His aim was to develop a system of action maneuvering using as few signals as possible, and relying more on the initiative of his subordinates. This came to an abrupt end when he joined the long list of British admirals lost with their flagships in accidents (Gordon gives the list, of course).
4. Gordon obviously doesn't like David Beatty, who was a rat-catching autocrat par excellence. Beatty was indeed not a nice man; great military leaders almost never are (or, in Beatty's case, near-great). Gordon dances around this in an amusing way until coming to the end of the book where he pretty much agrees that Beatty was more right than Jellicoe though still seriously flawed (not least in his flag lieutenant, who he kept around for utterly mysterious reasons).
5. Gordon feels obvious sympathy for John Jellicoe, CINC Grand Fleet, and Hugh Evan-Thomas, VA5BS. The first was a timid man, worn out by the time of Jutland, the second seems to have been a very nice man but strikingly dim, and both deserve less sympathy than he gives them. Evan-Thomas' bumbling south long after the battlecruisers had turned and were vanishing north in a cloud of coal smoke and cordite fumes remains probably the most unforgivable part of a strikingly confused battle. You literally have to ask yourself what in the hell he was doing, signal confusion or no.
6. There are a lot of fascinating side topics - Freemasonry, the cult of signals, the utterly bizarre world of the 19th century royals, polar exploration - and in addition Gordon provides the most utterly readable and necessary set of endnotes I have ever seen. The book is also marvelously organized.
This is an important book for anyone trying to puzzle out what went wrong at Jutland - more so now when Jellicoe has an ever-present grandson waving his flag, and when TV shows continue to claim that the British lost the battle (really! One side went home, coaled and ammunitioned, and were ready to go back out in two days. The other scuttled back to port and hid). It is long but will repay the time, as it's not just thorough, it's beautifully written.
And, a quarter century later, The Rules of the Game could use an update incorporating new research and discoveries. Mr Gordon?
February 20, 2020
“The Rules of the Game” by Andrew Gordon is a deconstruction of the great 1916 naval battle between the Grand Fleet of England and the High Seas Fleet of Germany near Jutland in the North Sea. At the time, this battle was shaping up as the pivotal moment for World War I naval activities. Although the battle ended up with a relatively benign result, the book is a fascinating tale of the chess moves – as one fleet tried to get the other engaged. And through it all – Gordon’s detail is wonderful.
The tale is broken into five sections: Part 1…dealing with how British naval vessels had developed over the years (battlecruisers versus battleships) and how the British Grand Fleet was assembled; Part 2…addressing initial efforts to engage the German High Seas Fleet; Part 3…detailing all the back story; Part 4...focusing on the final meet of the two battle fleets; and Part 5…musing about the aftermath. For my taste – sections 1, 2, and 4 were five-star stuff … wonderful battle scenes, intricately drawn with very helpful maps, in an easy-going writing style. Section 5 was an excellent wrapping up of the 600-page narrative. Section 3 was my only problem – it took up some 300 pages on mostly backstory – maybe 100 pages of which were interesting. Were it not for this third section, the book earns five stars.
A number of interesting facets applied in this battle and are highlighted in the narrative, such as: Nelson-era warriors (Captains of War) were those trained in decades of warring during the days of sail and they acted with a personal relationship with their commander, versus peacetime-warriors (Captains of Ships) who were trained during peacetime in the days of steel and they acted on a less-personal relationship with their commanders. Nelson-era leaders stayed in one-on-one contact with their subordinates by visits on his flagship … so subordinates knew what he wanted in the larger picture, and they could act and take initiative with respect to the overall goal when opportunities were offered. This was in contrast to the peacetime leaders who did not as a rule visit their subordinates one-on-one but rather relied so much more on an evolving flag system of communication and a still-emerging Marconi invention of wireless. Nelson-era captains expected their juniors to show creativity (like Nelson’s cutting the line of the Franco-Spanish fleet at Trafalgar), while Captains of Ships expected their juniors to follow orders (largely fleet maneuvers) without objection. There is much else in this narrative.
Overall – four stars, and if you speed through the middle section it is five-star stuff. Recommended.
The tale is broken into five sections: Part 1…dealing with how British naval vessels had developed over the years (battlecruisers versus battleships) and how the British Grand Fleet was assembled; Part 2…addressing initial efforts to engage the German High Seas Fleet; Part 3…detailing all the back story; Part 4...focusing on the final meet of the two battle fleets; and Part 5…musing about the aftermath. For my taste – sections 1, 2, and 4 were five-star stuff … wonderful battle scenes, intricately drawn with very helpful maps, in an easy-going writing style. Section 5 was an excellent wrapping up of the 600-page narrative. Section 3 was my only problem – it took up some 300 pages on mostly backstory – maybe 100 pages of which were interesting. Were it not for this third section, the book earns five stars.
A number of interesting facets applied in this battle and are highlighted in the narrative, such as: Nelson-era warriors (Captains of War) were those trained in decades of warring during the days of sail and they acted with a personal relationship with their commander, versus peacetime-warriors (Captains of Ships) who were trained during peacetime in the days of steel and they acted on a less-personal relationship with their commanders. Nelson-era leaders stayed in one-on-one contact with their subordinates by visits on his flagship … so subordinates knew what he wanted in the larger picture, and they could act and take initiative with respect to the overall goal when opportunities were offered. This was in contrast to the peacetime leaders who did not as a rule visit their subordinates one-on-one but rather relied so much more on an evolving flag system of communication and a still-emerging Marconi invention of wireless. Nelson-era captains expected their juniors to show creativity (like Nelson’s cutting the line of the Franco-Spanish fleet at Trafalgar), while Captains of Ships expected their juniors to follow orders (largely fleet maneuvers) without objection. There is much else in this narrative.
Overall – four stars, and if you speed through the middle section it is five-star stuff. Recommended.
August 13, 2014
This is an excellent book. It provides both a very well resesrched account of the battle itself (no mean feat given many uncertainties in who was exactly where when) but, even more importantly, also gives an outstandingly broad background background, especially on the British side, to the training, doctrine and personalities of the fleets and their commanders that led, over a period of many decades to the hazy May afternoon in the North Sea, when the Royal Navy missed their opportunity to inflict a decisive defeat on the German High Seas Fleet. Therefore, this is an excellent account of what could have been a decisive moment in history but wasn't - although the consequences of the corresponding German failure to achieve their own naval goals (then or later) was to have profound consequences. Jellicoe comes out well, Beatty's much less so. The former's caution at the decisive moment was (probably) in retrospect a mistake but is still understandable 100 years later, especially given the uncertainties surrounding the effect of torpedoes in fleet actions. Gordon's indictment of the latter's cavalier approach to command and disregard of obvious procedures is clear. All in all, recommended without reservation.
February 2, 2021
This book first came upon my radar while reading Robert Massie’s excellent ‘Castles of Steel’ a few years back, in which he refers the reader to the subject of this review for a more detailed examination of the Battle of Jutland. Well, he certainly wasn’t wrong, but also somehow missed the mark by quite a distance.
‘The Rules of a Game’ does examine the “battle” (a term deserving of inverted commas because for the vast majority of the men and ships involved it was merely a skirmish), and does so in very granular detail at times. The precise minute-by-minute study of when a command was given, when a helm was put over, when a ship sped up or slowed down, when a wireless signal was sent, where exactly a shell struck a ship, the commanders’ understanding of the tactical (and strategic) imperatives of this violent interaction between the British Grand Fleet and the German High Seas Fleet in spring 1916, and the long, conflicting narrative of the fight almost the minute it ended: all this, and much, much more related to the battle, is studied across three-fourths of this book’s 600 pages of narrative.
It is in the remaining twenty-five percent where the author really asserts himself. Writing a history of the battle is one thing, and one can find plenty of books which would do Jutland justice (I’ve already named one). What Gordon does, with purpose and plenty of scathing judgment, is examine why the battle ended in a tactical draw, even a loss for the Royal Navy, and not in the thumping victory much longed for. He does this, as the opening chapter of that section is entitled, by examining the Royal Navy in the “long calm lee of Trafalgar.” In the seventy-five years prior to Waterloo, the Royal Navy had been at war for fifty of them. It had built a first-class organizational and logistical system, trained up successive generations of admirals, captains, and ratings, and instilled in those that commanded ships of war the necessary skills and trust to take the fight to the enemy, to, as Nelson commanded, “engage the enemy more closely.” The captains that Nelson led at Trafalgar were skilled, not just in handling a ship or maintaining a station within a fleet, but at understanding the shifting sands of battle during the Age of Sail, and how to take advantage of them. They were willing to put their ships under the gun of an opponent, and fight it out. They were probably as good at their jobs as any sailor has ever been.
In the century between Waterloo and the July Crisis, the United Kingdom became an empire, but waged no “high-end” war against a peer threat to achieve it—to use modern vernacular. The missions of the Royal Navy transitioned from the thorny question of how to render useless a French man of war to instead tackling how to end the slave trade, pacify river pirates, escort missionaries, find where the ends of the earth lay, and, occasionally, to sail their rapidly modernizing ships in a smart fashion. Many things accompanied this shift, but two are important for our purposes. First, the men that would go on to shape how the navy was led and organized were entrapped in cliquish vices. Officers were granted favors by admirals who liked them, opening up good pathways for promotion; some served on the royal yachts, helping bring the weight of the Crown behind assignments; the more boisterous, reactionary rising stars were tolerated but rarely allowed to fully stretch their legs. In time, tragically, too many men who rose to captain and flag rank were simply promoted beyond their abilities. They had mastered the ability to lead ships, to keep them well run, to shoot and steam effectively, and to keep them spotless at all times—all without having the mental acuity to excel during the stresses of naval warfare. And, leading into the second point, they learned to obey orders from the flagship via signals.
The second trickledown effect was the increasing importance of signaling. The mass use of flag signaling had been around since the eighteenth century, and for general commands during the days of sail it was effective. As ships became steam-powered they were thus able to sail in concert more easily, at closer distance, and with a greater amount of precision. Signaling evolved to become increasing complicated as the vocabulary increased. This required trained men to hoist and read signals, and it instilled in admirals of the fleets the misbegotten idea that they could control *everything* their fleet did while under steam, and crucially, while in contact with the enemy. The reverse of the coin was the complete and total trust which junior flag officers and captains were expected to place in the commands that emanated from the flagship. The admiral was infallible, when a signal went it up it was to be acknowledged, and went it came down—which signaled that the command was now effective—it was to be obeyed immediately and without question.
A perverse, but inevitable, consequence of these developments was that subordinates became conservative, uncertain of how to act during moments of ambiguity or confusion, and inflexible, while admirals centralized command and control and snuffed out both revolutionary ideas and any sense of the initiative. It was a combination of these factors which led to the Royal Navy’s performance at Jutland, as well as clear mistakes of execution. There was certainly pushback, but the most important figure leading it tragically died when his flagship collided with another battleship and sank in the 1890s—the result, ironically, of a mistake in signaling on his own part. At Jutland, initiative would live on in the person of Sir David Beatty, who would lead the Grand Fleet’s fast battlecruisers and new battleships, and who would lose two capital ships under his direct command because of some of the factors listed above.
The battle itself is too complex to fully sketch out here, as are the mistakes that led to a lopsided result of ships and men lost. After being alerted that the High Seas Fleet was coming out in late May 1916, the Grand Fleet, divided in two main units separated by virtually the whole of Scotland, came out to meet it. The first phase of the battle involved both fleets' battlecruisers (and a squadron of new battleships on the part of the British), serving one of their purposes of reconnoitering for the main fleets. On the British side, a failure of communication led to a lack of concentration of the fleet, keeping the heavily-armored, heavily-armed fast battleships virtually out of this phase until it was too late and two RN battlecruisers had been sunk (due partially to Beatty’s committing the cardinal sin of allowing his ships with longer-ranged guns to come within range of the Germans). As the German battlecruisers led Beatty’s force south, they almost collided (relatively speaking for ships whose main batteries could range out to 20,000+ yards) with the main body of the German fleet, and beat a hasty about face. Here another mistake nearly led to the sinking of all four RN battleships present, an unforgiveable failure of poor signaling by Beatty’s chief signals officer (who had only been retained because of his closeness to Beatty and his wife). But both the failure to concentrate and the failure to quickly get out of harm’s way were in large part due to the nature of the commander of the battleships, who held signaling up like a religion. The lack of initiative that decades of service in its thrall had pounded into his head almost cost him his life, and made a poor showing nearly a cataclysmic defeat.
The second phase involved the aforementioned RN ships pulling the entire German fleet slowly into the jaws of the waiting British battle fleet, with more than 300 heavy guns prepared to pound the High Seas Fleet to the bottom. But North Sea weather, more poor communication, and an overly centralized command led to the Germans escaping, not once, but twice before night fell. The commander-in-chief of all these forces, Sir John Jellicoe, was himself a perfectly competent, orderly admiral, but also probably beyond the end of his branch of warfighting talent. While being failed by Beatty’s inability to accurately tell him where the Germans were so he could sufficiently array his waiting echelons, he also permitted the Germans to get out his grasp. A more active commander would’ve grabbed the outgunned, confused German battleships by the scruff of their neck and never let go, with a Farragut-esque “damn the torpedoes” attitude. Instead, in the night the Germans regrouped and limped back into port. The infighting within the upper ranks of the Royal Navy started soon after.
The enigma of Jutland is why it really matters. As mentioned, it was hardly a battle at all. Apart from being strictly speaking the greatest clash of battleships in history, it was inconclusive. Jellicoe’s refusal to tackle the challenge was born in his strategic conception of the Grand Fleet being an asset to the Allied war effort through merely existing, which was true. While no longer a deterrent (that baby was thrown out with the bathwater of the July Crisis), it did exist to hamper the Germans' attitude towards what ends they could achieve through a naval campaign. Jutland led directly to unrestricted submarine warfare and the entry of the United States into the war. The reason it was and is so hotly debated is because it was impossible for the Royal Navy, and British society, to not compare it to Trafalgar, Aboukir Bay, Cape St. Vincent, or any number of conclusive British victories. The question of culture is the one that really matters to a historical analysis of Jutland, which Gordon seeks to target in this book—and largely succeeds. As Gordon points out, Jellicoe fought Jutland within the bounds of the doctrinal abilities of himself and his subordinate flag officers and captains, thus the doctrine itself must be scrutinized. Asking him to pursue a counterfactual would be impossible, because *he and his captains would be incapable of pursuing it even if they wanted to.* The overreliance on signaling and centralized control, and the tactical trepidation it instilled, was consumed by more than half a dozen future First Sea Lords who were present at the battle. It would have a profound effect on the future of the Royal Navy. Additionally, the underlying doctrine was flawed because it was based on a hundred years of peace during an age of intense rationalism and belief in order. Thusly misguided, successive RN regimes sought to do the *one thing* a military thinker cannot be allowed to do: rewrite the very nature of combat. Combat, as discovered at Jutland, is disorderly and confused, it does not comply with peacetime standards of ship and fleet handling, and the enemy rarely behaves. It involves an enormous amount of friction. To a generation of sailors who learned fleet handling in the bright, dry, calm waters of the Mediterranean against a shadow enemy, the very challenges of combat were of a completely alien nature. Their training and understanding of the rules of wartime conduct were insufficient, or worse, catastrophically backward. This goes back to signaling; as Gordon notes, the overreliance on signaling betrayed an inadequacy of doctrine, training, and embrace of the opportunities that the confusion of battle can provide. By relying on centralized command, which flowed inevitably into believing the admiral was infallible and trickled down into needing to be told what to do at all times, Jellicoe, the Grand Fleet, and the Royal Navy turned out to be completely unprepared to wage and win a fleet action. More than 6,000 sailors paid the price. There is not a single individual or action to blame for both these losses and the unsavory outcome of the battle, but it was a systemic failure, as well as containing numerous individual mistakes. The arguments over its execution will likely never end.
I don’t believe it necessary to regurgitate the lessons of this book; most are evident above. Instead, let us appraise the author. A former RNR officer, he writes with authority on complex topics—indeed many took several re-reads for me to totally grasp. He has a jocular style, even funny at times, which helps balance the violence of the central story. But he succeeds in capably writing a book dealing with a technically challenging problem and a battle separated by 80 years that was not documented in a completely clear way—some of that by design by the actors. This is not a book for everyone. It is at times perhaps too detailed, and plenty of tangents are taken. But even if read for the story of the battle, it would succeed—returning to Massie’s original suggestion, and it reveals important lessons for how a military must prepare during peace in order to first survive, then win on the battlefield of tomorrow.
‘The Rules of a Game’ does examine the “battle” (a term deserving of inverted commas because for the vast majority of the men and ships involved it was merely a skirmish), and does so in very granular detail at times. The precise minute-by-minute study of when a command was given, when a helm was put over, when a ship sped up or slowed down, when a wireless signal was sent, where exactly a shell struck a ship, the commanders’ understanding of the tactical (and strategic) imperatives of this violent interaction between the British Grand Fleet and the German High Seas Fleet in spring 1916, and the long, conflicting narrative of the fight almost the minute it ended: all this, and much, much more related to the battle, is studied across three-fourths of this book’s 600 pages of narrative.
It is in the remaining twenty-five percent where the author really asserts himself. Writing a history of the battle is one thing, and one can find plenty of books which would do Jutland justice (I’ve already named one). What Gordon does, with purpose and plenty of scathing judgment, is examine why the battle ended in a tactical draw, even a loss for the Royal Navy, and not in the thumping victory much longed for. He does this, as the opening chapter of that section is entitled, by examining the Royal Navy in the “long calm lee of Trafalgar.” In the seventy-five years prior to Waterloo, the Royal Navy had been at war for fifty of them. It had built a first-class organizational and logistical system, trained up successive generations of admirals, captains, and ratings, and instilled in those that commanded ships of war the necessary skills and trust to take the fight to the enemy, to, as Nelson commanded, “engage the enemy more closely.” The captains that Nelson led at Trafalgar were skilled, not just in handling a ship or maintaining a station within a fleet, but at understanding the shifting sands of battle during the Age of Sail, and how to take advantage of them. They were willing to put their ships under the gun of an opponent, and fight it out. They were probably as good at their jobs as any sailor has ever been.
In the century between Waterloo and the July Crisis, the United Kingdom became an empire, but waged no “high-end” war against a peer threat to achieve it—to use modern vernacular. The missions of the Royal Navy transitioned from the thorny question of how to render useless a French man of war to instead tackling how to end the slave trade, pacify river pirates, escort missionaries, find where the ends of the earth lay, and, occasionally, to sail their rapidly modernizing ships in a smart fashion. Many things accompanied this shift, but two are important for our purposes. First, the men that would go on to shape how the navy was led and organized were entrapped in cliquish vices. Officers were granted favors by admirals who liked them, opening up good pathways for promotion; some served on the royal yachts, helping bring the weight of the Crown behind assignments; the more boisterous, reactionary rising stars were tolerated but rarely allowed to fully stretch their legs. In time, tragically, too many men who rose to captain and flag rank were simply promoted beyond their abilities. They had mastered the ability to lead ships, to keep them well run, to shoot and steam effectively, and to keep them spotless at all times—all without having the mental acuity to excel during the stresses of naval warfare. And, leading into the second point, they learned to obey orders from the flagship via signals.
The second trickledown effect was the increasing importance of signaling. The mass use of flag signaling had been around since the eighteenth century, and for general commands during the days of sail it was effective. As ships became steam-powered they were thus able to sail in concert more easily, at closer distance, and with a greater amount of precision. Signaling evolved to become increasing complicated as the vocabulary increased. This required trained men to hoist and read signals, and it instilled in admirals of the fleets the misbegotten idea that they could control *everything* their fleet did while under steam, and crucially, while in contact with the enemy. The reverse of the coin was the complete and total trust which junior flag officers and captains were expected to place in the commands that emanated from the flagship. The admiral was infallible, when a signal went it up it was to be acknowledged, and went it came down—which signaled that the command was now effective—it was to be obeyed immediately and without question.
A perverse, but inevitable, consequence of these developments was that subordinates became conservative, uncertain of how to act during moments of ambiguity or confusion, and inflexible, while admirals centralized command and control and snuffed out both revolutionary ideas and any sense of the initiative. It was a combination of these factors which led to the Royal Navy’s performance at Jutland, as well as clear mistakes of execution. There was certainly pushback, but the most important figure leading it tragically died when his flagship collided with another battleship and sank in the 1890s—the result, ironically, of a mistake in signaling on his own part. At Jutland, initiative would live on in the person of Sir David Beatty, who would lead the Grand Fleet’s fast battlecruisers and new battleships, and who would lose two capital ships under his direct command because of some of the factors listed above.
The battle itself is too complex to fully sketch out here, as are the mistakes that led to a lopsided result of ships and men lost. After being alerted that the High Seas Fleet was coming out in late May 1916, the Grand Fleet, divided in two main units separated by virtually the whole of Scotland, came out to meet it. The first phase of the battle involved both fleets' battlecruisers (and a squadron of new battleships on the part of the British), serving one of their purposes of reconnoitering for the main fleets. On the British side, a failure of communication led to a lack of concentration of the fleet, keeping the heavily-armored, heavily-armed fast battleships virtually out of this phase until it was too late and two RN battlecruisers had been sunk (due partially to Beatty’s committing the cardinal sin of allowing his ships with longer-ranged guns to come within range of the Germans). As the German battlecruisers led Beatty’s force south, they almost collided (relatively speaking for ships whose main batteries could range out to 20,000+ yards) with the main body of the German fleet, and beat a hasty about face. Here another mistake nearly led to the sinking of all four RN battleships present, an unforgiveable failure of poor signaling by Beatty’s chief signals officer (who had only been retained because of his closeness to Beatty and his wife). But both the failure to concentrate and the failure to quickly get out of harm’s way were in large part due to the nature of the commander of the battleships, who held signaling up like a religion. The lack of initiative that decades of service in its thrall had pounded into his head almost cost him his life, and made a poor showing nearly a cataclysmic defeat.
The second phase involved the aforementioned RN ships pulling the entire German fleet slowly into the jaws of the waiting British battle fleet, with more than 300 heavy guns prepared to pound the High Seas Fleet to the bottom. But North Sea weather, more poor communication, and an overly centralized command led to the Germans escaping, not once, but twice before night fell. The commander-in-chief of all these forces, Sir John Jellicoe, was himself a perfectly competent, orderly admiral, but also probably beyond the end of his branch of warfighting talent. While being failed by Beatty’s inability to accurately tell him where the Germans were so he could sufficiently array his waiting echelons, he also permitted the Germans to get out his grasp. A more active commander would’ve grabbed the outgunned, confused German battleships by the scruff of their neck and never let go, with a Farragut-esque “damn the torpedoes” attitude. Instead, in the night the Germans regrouped and limped back into port. The infighting within the upper ranks of the Royal Navy started soon after.
The enigma of Jutland is why it really matters. As mentioned, it was hardly a battle at all. Apart from being strictly speaking the greatest clash of battleships in history, it was inconclusive. Jellicoe’s refusal to tackle the challenge was born in his strategic conception of the Grand Fleet being an asset to the Allied war effort through merely existing, which was true. While no longer a deterrent (that baby was thrown out with the bathwater of the July Crisis), it did exist to hamper the Germans' attitude towards what ends they could achieve through a naval campaign. Jutland led directly to unrestricted submarine warfare and the entry of the United States into the war. The reason it was and is so hotly debated is because it was impossible for the Royal Navy, and British society, to not compare it to Trafalgar, Aboukir Bay, Cape St. Vincent, or any number of conclusive British victories. The question of culture is the one that really matters to a historical analysis of Jutland, which Gordon seeks to target in this book—and largely succeeds. As Gordon points out, Jellicoe fought Jutland within the bounds of the doctrinal abilities of himself and his subordinate flag officers and captains, thus the doctrine itself must be scrutinized. Asking him to pursue a counterfactual would be impossible, because *he and his captains would be incapable of pursuing it even if they wanted to.* The overreliance on signaling and centralized control, and the tactical trepidation it instilled, was consumed by more than half a dozen future First Sea Lords who were present at the battle. It would have a profound effect on the future of the Royal Navy. Additionally, the underlying doctrine was flawed because it was based on a hundred years of peace during an age of intense rationalism and belief in order. Thusly misguided, successive RN regimes sought to do the *one thing* a military thinker cannot be allowed to do: rewrite the very nature of combat. Combat, as discovered at Jutland, is disorderly and confused, it does not comply with peacetime standards of ship and fleet handling, and the enemy rarely behaves. It involves an enormous amount of friction. To a generation of sailors who learned fleet handling in the bright, dry, calm waters of the Mediterranean against a shadow enemy, the very challenges of combat were of a completely alien nature. Their training and understanding of the rules of wartime conduct were insufficient, or worse, catastrophically backward. This goes back to signaling; as Gordon notes, the overreliance on signaling betrayed an inadequacy of doctrine, training, and embrace of the opportunities that the confusion of battle can provide. By relying on centralized command, which flowed inevitably into believing the admiral was infallible and trickled down into needing to be told what to do at all times, Jellicoe, the Grand Fleet, and the Royal Navy turned out to be completely unprepared to wage and win a fleet action. More than 6,000 sailors paid the price. There is not a single individual or action to blame for both these losses and the unsavory outcome of the battle, but it was a systemic failure, as well as containing numerous individual mistakes. The arguments over its execution will likely never end.
I don’t believe it necessary to regurgitate the lessons of this book; most are evident above. Instead, let us appraise the author. A former RNR officer, he writes with authority on complex topics—indeed many took several re-reads for me to totally grasp. He has a jocular style, even funny at times, which helps balance the violence of the central story. But he succeeds in capably writing a book dealing with a technically challenging problem and a battle separated by 80 years that was not documented in a completely clear way—some of that by design by the actors. This is not a book for everyone. It is at times perhaps too detailed, and plenty of tangents are taken. But even if read for the story of the battle, it would succeed—returning to Massie’s original suggestion, and it reveals important lessons for how a military must prepare during peace in order to first survive, then win on the battlefield of tomorrow.
January 30, 2022
This is the kind of book you don't just casually pick up and read. You already probably have a pretty good idea of what it'll be about and look forward to a long, complicated discussion about the Battle of Jutland, British Naval Command, and the comparison between Jellicoe and Beatty. What you might not expect is that it'll also teach you a lot about Royal Navy signaling, Admiralty politics, and the stagnation of the fleet tactics ever since the win at Trafalgar.
Gordon writes with the expectation that the audience knows quite a bit about naval jargon, nicknames of admirals, and some familiarity of the battle already. There's a writeup of the battle for the first couple hundred pages, a few hundred page interlude into the history of the navy from the 1880s or so until 1914, and then another hundred pages or so concluding the battle. It's entirely from the British perspective: you learn and understand the ebb and flow of maneuvering through the RN commanders who led the fleets and squadrons into action.
You already know if you'll like this hefty book or not. I don't need to convince you.
Gordon writes with the expectation that the audience knows quite a bit about naval jargon, nicknames of admirals, and some familiarity of the battle already. There's a writeup of the battle for the first couple hundred pages, a few hundred page interlude into the history of the navy from the 1880s or so until 1914, and then another hundred pages or so concluding the battle. It's entirely from the British perspective: you learn and understand the ebb and flow of maneuvering through the RN commanders who led the fleets and squadrons into action.
You already know if you'll like this hefty book or not. I don't need to convince you.
January 1, 2017
Andrew Gordon’s book is a study of the battle of Jutland that seeks to explain the outcome of the battle through the unusual perspective of the organizational culture of the Royal Navy. The problem can be described as this: how did a force that took such pride in the fighting heritage of Horatio Nelson fail to demonstrate such aggressiveness when facing the German High Seas Fleet on May 31, 1916? To answer this, Gordon charts two generations of British naval command, reaching back into the Victorian era to describe the development of British naval thinking. He finds that the decades of peace – a peace brought about by the victories of Nelson’s navy and maintained by British warships – fostered a culture rooted in theory rather than practice. This was a natural development, fueled both by the dearth of naval combat experience (one of his many fascinating details is that the overwhelming majority of Victoria’s Crosses won by Royal Navy personnel during the 19th century were won fighting on land rather than the sea) and the transformations wrought by new technologies. Without the test of combat, other factors such as ship-handling, social connections and the appearance of warships often determined promotions to command rank.
One of the trends that emerged from this new culture was a greater emphasis on fleet control through signaling. Though signaling through code flags had a long tradition in the Royal Navy, the Victorian era saw a greater emphasis upon it, to the point where a fleet’s commander expected to direct its every action to the detriment of the ships’ captains. Not everyone agreed with this and one admiral, Sir George Tryon, sought to foster more operational independence during his time as the commander-in-chief of the Mediterranean Fleet in the early 1890s, but his death in a ship collision (brought about, ironically, by signals from his flagship) in 1893 ended efforts to challenge the dominant naval ethos.
As a result, the admirals who commanded the Grand Fleet at Jutland were the products of a culture which encouraged centralized control in an environment where such control broke down quickly, as the vast distances over which fleets were spread and problems with visibility hindered the ability of the fleet to act in unison. He is forgiving of the men themselves, arguing that commanders from John Jellicoe on down did their duties to the best of their ability (perhaps surprisingly his greatest criticism is reserved for David Beatty, who, while the admiral least committed to the authoritarian style of command, committed many errors which contributed to the loss of the battlecruisers in his squadron). In the end, they simply were not prepared for the conditions of combat when they finally faced it, and thus lost the best opportunity they would have during the war to defeat the nemesis they had prepared so long to face.
Summarizing Gordon’s book cannot do justice to the richness of his fascinating text. It abounds with insights on nearly every page, which are woven together in a narrative that guides readers deftly through a world that was often defined by arcane rules and narrow cliques. While his study is a little too detailed and technical to serve as an introduction to the battle, it is essential reading for anyone seeking an in-depth understanding of the clash between dreadnoughts and why it ended so frustratingly inconclusively for the British.
One of the trends that emerged from this new culture was a greater emphasis on fleet control through signaling. Though signaling through code flags had a long tradition in the Royal Navy, the Victorian era saw a greater emphasis upon it, to the point where a fleet’s commander expected to direct its every action to the detriment of the ships’ captains. Not everyone agreed with this and one admiral, Sir George Tryon, sought to foster more operational independence during his time as the commander-in-chief of the Mediterranean Fleet in the early 1890s, but his death in a ship collision (brought about, ironically, by signals from his flagship) in 1893 ended efforts to challenge the dominant naval ethos.
As a result, the admirals who commanded the Grand Fleet at Jutland were the products of a culture which encouraged centralized control in an environment where such control broke down quickly, as the vast distances over which fleets were spread and problems with visibility hindered the ability of the fleet to act in unison. He is forgiving of the men themselves, arguing that commanders from John Jellicoe on down did their duties to the best of their ability (perhaps surprisingly his greatest criticism is reserved for David Beatty, who, while the admiral least committed to the authoritarian style of command, committed many errors which contributed to the loss of the battlecruisers in his squadron). In the end, they simply were not prepared for the conditions of combat when they finally faced it, and thus lost the best opportunity they would have during the war to defeat the nemesis they had prepared so long to face.
Summarizing Gordon’s book cannot do justice to the richness of his fascinating text. It abounds with insights on nearly every page, which are woven together in a narrative that guides readers deftly through a world that was often defined by arcane rules and narrow cliques. While his study is a little too detailed and technical to serve as an introduction to the battle, it is essential reading for anyone seeking an in-depth understanding of the clash between dreadnoughts and why it ended so frustratingly inconclusively for the British.
September 1, 2009
This was a good book on British naval cuture and its impact on its battle command at the battle of Jutland. At times it was very technical and detailed, but overall it was a very good book. I read it at a time where I could apply it to a particular style of centralized command in CSTC-A. Some of the similarities were quite interesting. It is a good book to lead into a discussion on what is the nature of the future war you intend to fight and what is the best form of a battle command to fight that war. Once you have decided that, what is the best organizational culture to develop and implement that battle command. This is going to be a greater and greater problem in the US Army as we move back into garrison. Our war experience shows the need for independent and adaptive company grade officers. Our garrison culture creates company grade officers who are rewarded for following orders and not blazing a new path. This will be a challenge for us in the years ahead.
March 3, 2016
Bought this upon publication when doing research upon the Battle of Jutland for a historical novel about the battle. I bought anything and everything on the battle and even consulted memoirs and other public papers. This is, without doubt, the best book on the subject. The core is the way that the British naval mindset affected everything including the battle. Beattie was over reckless and Jellicoe over cautious. Saying that, it must be remembered that after the battle the British fleet were ready for action again within days and the German fleet were terrified to come out and play again. It was, in some respects, a Bordino of the sea - indecisive at the point of battle but it was how the leaders responded after that led to victory - although the Germans kept the retreat from Moscow on hold until the Second World War.
July 22, 2016
Interesting book about jutland.I always have beatty pegged as the bad guy, a bit flash beau sabruer of the seas leading his battlecruisers into a trap etc...
This book looks at thing in the longer view.. starts with the battle then after the initial clash looks into the background to just why the royal navy failed to destroy the highs seas fleet.
The middle of the book is about the struggle between rule breakers and rule makers ... and the peace time rule makers one to the RNs detriment. I did struggle a bit with the royal references but by and large its a book well worth reading a puts a lot of perceived wisdom on this fight to the test
This book looks at thing in the longer view.. starts with the battle then after the initial clash looks into the background to just why the royal navy failed to destroy the highs seas fleet.
The middle of the book is about the struggle between rule breakers and rule makers ... and the peace time rule makers one to the RNs detriment. I did struggle a bit with the royal references but by and large its a book well worth reading a puts a lot of perceived wisdom on this fight to the test
April 2, 2019
DNF.
This isn't my type of history, it was too focused on sequences and chains of events.
The book was interesting and there were parts that I loved, but I borrowed this via inter library loan and couldn't muster the energy to put it ahead of others books I'm working on.
If you like battles and analysis of what went won't, then this is the book for you.
The book probably deserves more than 2 stars, but for me that's all I could give it.
This isn't my type of history, it was too focused on sequences and chains of events.
The book was interesting and there were parts that I loved, but I borrowed this via inter library loan and couldn't muster the energy to put it ahead of others books I'm working on.
If you like battles and analysis of what went won't, then this is the book for you.
The book probably deserves more than 2 stars, but for me that's all I could give it.
June 21, 2018
First published in 1996, Andrew Gordon's book greatly deserves it recent reissue. Many books have considered aspects of military leadership, but this is one of the very few to explore the culture of command and to address the practical implications.
In this weighty study, Gordon begins with an account of the tensions and interchanges between Jellicoe, commander of the British Grand Fleet since 1914, and Beatty, commander of the Battle Cruiser Fleet sub-element of the Grand Fleet. Central to this account is the decision-making process through which the 5th Battle Squadron, of the Royal Navy's most modern Queen Elizabeth-type battleships, was put under the temporary command of the BCF, and Beatty's failure, having secured this objective, in then having much engagement with its commander, Evan-Thomas.
The second section details the early stages of the Battle of Jutland, when the BCF unexpectedly ran into advanced elements of the German High Seas Fleet and sought to lure it into reach of the vastly superior firepower of the Grand Fleet. The centrepiece of this section is the delay in 5BS turning away from the German fleet, which left it exposed and vulnerable to the concentrated enemy fire for several vital minutes. Gordon traces this delay to Evan-Thomas waiting until he had received a signal from Beatty ordering him to make this maneouvre.
The third section goes back in time, to trace the reasons why a British admiral might wait for several minutes, knowing his ships were in grave danger, before making an essential maneouvre, placing response to a signal above the necessity of the situation. Central to Gordon's account is the rise of tight control by admirals of their fleets, which was made possible by the predictable movement of steamships and the advent of a far more complex signals book. This revealed a tension within the Royal Navy between those who favoured ships' captains to exercise initiative, guided by the admiral's intent, and those who believed it better for the admiral to retain tight control of every ship's movements. A key event here was the consternation caused by Admiral Tryon's attempts to implement a decentralised approach, which were cut short when his deputy (ironically following a signal to the letter) rammed and sank Tryon's flagship in broad daylight, placing obedience above initiative. This part of the book felt rather over-extended, with very detailed accounts of the career of Evan-Thomas and the naval training of the future George V. The essence of Gordon's argument is that the Navy placed great value on postings on the royal yachts and as signals officers to admirals, postings that were openly reserved for the sons of admirals and favourites of the Royal Family and which gave enormous advantage for future promotion. Emphasis on royal service and with signals encouraged tight discipline, obedience to orders, and an unwillingness to encourage the disorder associated with decentralisation and initiative.
The next section completes the narrative of Jutland, showing how Beatty repeatedly failed to issue orders to his squadrons, leaving Evan-Thomas uncertain of his role, and neglected to pass vital information about the Germans' position to Jellicoe, errors magnified by the poor gunnery of the BCF. Equally, however, Jellicoe displayed enormous caution during the battle and insisted on following his previous plans, designed to eliminate uncertainty from any encounter with the Germans. Unfortunately, the Germans failed to follow the script set for them by Jellicoe and so escaped, though they never emerged again to face the Grand Fleet. The final section of the book details the undignified attempts by Beatty to falsify the historical record in order to eliminate any apparance of error by the BCF and to play down the contribution of both Evan-Thomas and the Grand Fleet.
Key to Gordon's argument is that, in essence, Beatty had realised that tight control by signals would be impossible in the confusion and restricted signalling capacity of battle, so initiative was essential. Jellicoe, by contrast, sought to retain control at every stage, and so lost his one opportunity to engage the German fleet and destroy it. The final chapter explores how the modes of peacetime almost inevitably lead to the loss of the corporate memory of the confusion of battle, allowing technology to become predominant (and shake off suggestions that it might not work so well in conditions of combat), and placing greater premium on obediance and presentation, at the expense of the initiative required to win battles.
An exceptional book that deserves a place on the shelves of every serious student of command.
In this weighty study, Gordon begins with an account of the tensions and interchanges between Jellicoe, commander of the British Grand Fleet since 1914, and Beatty, commander of the Battle Cruiser Fleet sub-element of the Grand Fleet. Central to this account is the decision-making process through which the 5th Battle Squadron, of the Royal Navy's most modern Queen Elizabeth-type battleships, was put under the temporary command of the BCF, and Beatty's failure, having secured this objective, in then having much engagement with its commander, Evan-Thomas.
The second section details the early stages of the Battle of Jutland, when the BCF unexpectedly ran into advanced elements of the German High Seas Fleet and sought to lure it into reach of the vastly superior firepower of the Grand Fleet. The centrepiece of this section is the delay in 5BS turning away from the German fleet, which left it exposed and vulnerable to the concentrated enemy fire for several vital minutes. Gordon traces this delay to Evan-Thomas waiting until he had received a signal from Beatty ordering him to make this maneouvre.
The third section goes back in time, to trace the reasons why a British admiral might wait for several minutes, knowing his ships were in grave danger, before making an essential maneouvre, placing response to a signal above the necessity of the situation. Central to Gordon's account is the rise of tight control by admirals of their fleets, which was made possible by the predictable movement of steamships and the advent of a far more complex signals book. This revealed a tension within the Royal Navy between those who favoured ships' captains to exercise initiative, guided by the admiral's intent, and those who believed it better for the admiral to retain tight control of every ship's movements. A key event here was the consternation caused by Admiral Tryon's attempts to implement a decentralised approach, which were cut short when his deputy (ironically following a signal to the letter) rammed and sank Tryon's flagship in broad daylight, placing obedience above initiative. This part of the book felt rather over-extended, with very detailed accounts of the career of Evan-Thomas and the naval training of the future George V. The essence of Gordon's argument is that the Navy placed great value on postings on the royal yachts and as signals officers to admirals, postings that were openly reserved for the sons of admirals and favourites of the Royal Family and which gave enormous advantage for future promotion. Emphasis on royal service and with signals encouraged tight discipline, obedience to orders, and an unwillingness to encourage the disorder associated with decentralisation and initiative.
The next section completes the narrative of Jutland, showing how Beatty repeatedly failed to issue orders to his squadrons, leaving Evan-Thomas uncertain of his role, and neglected to pass vital information about the Germans' position to Jellicoe, errors magnified by the poor gunnery of the BCF. Equally, however, Jellicoe displayed enormous caution during the battle and insisted on following his previous plans, designed to eliminate uncertainty from any encounter with the Germans. Unfortunately, the Germans failed to follow the script set for them by Jellicoe and so escaped, though they never emerged again to face the Grand Fleet. The final section of the book details the undignified attempts by Beatty to falsify the historical record in order to eliminate any apparance of error by the BCF and to play down the contribution of both Evan-Thomas and the Grand Fleet.
Key to Gordon's argument is that, in essence, Beatty had realised that tight control by signals would be impossible in the confusion and restricted signalling capacity of battle, so initiative was essential. Jellicoe, by contrast, sought to retain control at every stage, and so lost his one opportunity to engage the German fleet and destroy it. The final chapter explores how the modes of peacetime almost inevitably lead to the loss of the corporate memory of the confusion of battle, allowing technology to become predominant (and shake off suggestions that it might not work so well in conditions of combat), and placing greater premium on obediance and presentation, at the expense of the initiative required to win battles.
An exceptional book that deserves a place on the shelves of every serious student of command.
June 7, 2022
Dr. Andrew Gordon's book The Rules of the Game: Jutland and British Naval Command is a large discussion about communication between British naval ships. This discussion begins with a large debate about using flagging to relay information and commands from one ship to another. Though Dr. Andrew Gordon does go through the progression of communication past flag, his main view stays on the grander narrative and historical study of the British Naval commands' struggle with the way flagging should be used to communicate.
In 1997 Dr. Andrew Gordon was awarded The Duke of Westminster's Medal for Military Literature, a medal bestowed yearly for the award to a "notable and original contribution to the study of international or national security, or military professions" (Cradock, Scarlett, and Alexander). According to reviewer Eric Grove from the University of Hull, Dr. Andrew Gordon is not seeking to write another history of World War I but rather a history of a specific naval encounter. Eric Grove also notes that in The Rules of the Game, "Gordon's account is a focused and intriguing study of the "operational and cultural" linkages that existed within the Royal Navy of the era…" (Grove. 167). Unfortunately, Dr. Andrew Gordon tends to relate a drama between British Navy's command and the British hierarchy and loses track of the points he is trying to make. At times the book almost becomes more like War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, with the bickering and posturing of the upper class, than a book about the history of Jutland. Dr. Andrew Gordon does a good job discussing the relationships between the British Naval command and the King or Queen of England. Frustratingly a book about communication could have been written in a small pamphlet if all the dramatic pieces between the different hierarchies were deleted.
Dr. Andrew Gordon does not that "The basic import of this book is how, while the Royal Navy was undergoing its fifty-year conversion from oak and canvas to steel and turbines, its once-clear, empiricist understanding of 'product' was pilfered from the lay-apart store by the vested interests of 'process,' and how both symptoms and the cost of that felony may be discerned, in various ways, at Jutland in 1916." (Gordon. 920). Though he is completely correct that this book does look at a piece of the fifty-year conversion, Dr. Andrew Gordon's focus on the drama takes away from a discussion of the "process" that was taking place elsewhere.
One redeeming quality of this book is that Dr. Andrew Gordon does go into detail about war discussion about how flagging and signaling were used in the Jutland battle at the very end. This does help to show the reader the frustration and limitation of using flags as signals. But not much else is learned about the battle of Jutland, and the only part of the British Naval command that we know about is how the British Naval command worked with or against flagging, and thus Dr. Andrew Gordon has miss-titled his book.
Cradock, Percy, John Scarlett, and Michael Alexander. "Westminster Medal for Military Literature: Royal United Services Institute for Defense Studies." RUSI Journal 147, no. 3 (06, 2002): 96-100, http://ezproxy.liberty.edu/login?qurl....
Gordon, G. A. H. The Rules of the Game : Jutland and British Naval Command. Annapolis, Md: Naval Institute Press, 1996.
"Notes on Andrew Gordon, The Rules of the Game: Jutland and British Naval Command." International journal of maritime history. 9, no. 2 (1997): 167–187.
In 1997 Dr. Andrew Gordon was awarded The Duke of Westminster's Medal for Military Literature, a medal bestowed yearly for the award to a "notable and original contribution to the study of international or national security, or military professions" (Cradock, Scarlett, and Alexander). According to reviewer Eric Grove from the University of Hull, Dr. Andrew Gordon is not seeking to write another history of World War I but rather a history of a specific naval encounter. Eric Grove also notes that in The Rules of the Game, "Gordon's account is a focused and intriguing study of the "operational and cultural" linkages that existed within the Royal Navy of the era…" (Grove. 167). Unfortunately, Dr. Andrew Gordon tends to relate a drama between British Navy's command and the British hierarchy and loses track of the points he is trying to make. At times the book almost becomes more like War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, with the bickering and posturing of the upper class, than a book about the history of Jutland. Dr. Andrew Gordon does a good job discussing the relationships between the British Naval command and the King or Queen of England. Frustratingly a book about communication could have been written in a small pamphlet if all the dramatic pieces between the different hierarchies were deleted.
Dr. Andrew Gordon does not that "The basic import of this book is how, while the Royal Navy was undergoing its fifty-year conversion from oak and canvas to steel and turbines, its once-clear, empiricist understanding of 'product' was pilfered from the lay-apart store by the vested interests of 'process,' and how both symptoms and the cost of that felony may be discerned, in various ways, at Jutland in 1916." (Gordon. 920). Though he is completely correct that this book does look at a piece of the fifty-year conversion, Dr. Andrew Gordon's focus on the drama takes away from a discussion of the "process" that was taking place elsewhere.
One redeeming quality of this book is that Dr. Andrew Gordon does go into detail about war discussion about how flagging and signaling were used in the Jutland battle at the very end. This does help to show the reader the frustration and limitation of using flags as signals. But not much else is learned about the battle of Jutland, and the only part of the British Naval command that we know about is how the British Naval command worked with or against flagging, and thus Dr. Andrew Gordon has miss-titled his book.
Cradock, Percy, John Scarlett, and Michael Alexander. "Westminster Medal for Military Literature: Royal United Services Institute for Defense Studies." RUSI Journal 147, no. 3 (06, 2002): 96-100, http://ezproxy.liberty.edu/login?qurl....
Gordon, G. A. H. The Rules of the Game : Jutland and British Naval Command. Annapolis, Md: Naval Institute Press, 1996.
"Notes on Andrew Gordon, The Rules of the Game: Jutland and British Naval Command." International journal of maritime history. 9, no. 2 (1997): 167–187.
May 30, 2021
I was hesitant to pick this book up because of the size of it - 600 pages before we get to the appendices, notes, bibliography and index. I need not have been. It combines forensic analysis with superb writing.
The core of it is the battle of Jutland / Skagerrakschlacht, from which no senior commander on either side emerged smelling of violets, though some came out whiffier than others.
Gordon sets the scene and then winds the clock back to the nineteenth century debate between the 'control' and 'ratcatcher' schools of tactical thought in the Royal Navy. The former's insistence on precision seamanship and balletic fleetwork was ironically reinforced after the traumatic loss of HMS Victoria in a collision with Camperdown caused by rigid obedience to an impossible signal.
Returning to Jutland he completes his account of the battle and its sordid political aftermath. His account is compelling but other, later historians disagree in some points. It is worth the reader's while keeping an eye on the 'Courses and Directions' table in Appendix 1 if they are not familiar with boxing the compass.
He completes the book by raising the important question, what can this teach us today? Writing after the 1982 Falklands conflict and the first Gulf War he was very aware of the tension between proponents of rapid technological change (enthusiastically supported in the media) and the empirical knowledge of people who had been there. One group is accused of preparing for the last war, the other, perhaps, of optimising for peacetime conditions.
The one thing I wish he had gone into in a bit more depth (perhaps in yet another appendix) is the debate between the Dreyer and Pollen fire-control systems. He alludes at several points to the shortcomings of the Dreyer table but without being specific.
As ever, we should 'check our privileges' of safety, comfort and hindsight before passing judgement on people who had none of those benefits.
The core of it is the battle of Jutland / Skagerrakschlacht, from which no senior commander on either side emerged smelling of violets, though some came out whiffier than others.
Gordon sets the scene and then winds the clock back to the nineteenth century debate between the 'control' and 'ratcatcher' schools of tactical thought in the Royal Navy. The former's insistence on precision seamanship and balletic fleetwork was ironically reinforced after the traumatic loss of HMS Victoria in a collision with Camperdown caused by rigid obedience to an impossible signal.
Returning to Jutland he completes his account of the battle and its sordid political aftermath. His account is compelling but other, later historians disagree in some points. It is worth the reader's while keeping an eye on the 'Courses and Directions' table in Appendix 1 if they are not familiar with boxing the compass.
He completes the book by raising the important question, what can this teach us today? Writing after the 1982 Falklands conflict and the first Gulf War he was very aware of the tension between proponents of rapid technological change (enthusiastically supported in the media) and the empirical knowledge of people who had been there. One group is accused of preparing for the last war, the other, perhaps, of optimising for peacetime conditions.
The one thing I wish he had gone into in a bit more depth (perhaps in yet another appendix) is the debate between the Dreyer and Pollen fire-control systems. He alludes at several points to the shortcomings of the Dreyer table but without being specific.
As ever, we should 'check our privileges' of safety, comfort and hindsight before passing judgement on people who had none of those benefits.
September 9, 2019
Recently I started reading up some on the Jutland battle. And this title was recommended by many.
Did I like the book? Yes and no. To this I need to add, for an honest appraisal of what I write here, that I am not a hardcore naval history reader.
What I did like were the parts covering the battle and the eyewitness accounts. I also liked learning some more about the commanders involved and the tactics used. But there were also parts that I didn't enjoy as much. Not liking them is putting it a bit too harsh.
By reading this book you get to know who Jellicoe and Beatty were, and also other commanders in the BS and BCF. You also learn how the Germans viewed this battle and what their flaws were. But the details on the British personalities, and there were quite a number of them in name and character, is what made reading this slow down to a crawl.
Do I find it interesting that such and such was commanding this ship and later became an Earl/Lord/whatever? Nope, I don't. (but maybe British readers think otherwise)
That the Royal Navy tradition and signalling did have an impact on what happened during the battle is clear. But to me the minutiae was a bit too much.
If you are interested in the battle, Royal Navy traditions, and the relationships between the commanders involved, I guess this is a must read.
Did I like the book? Yes and no. To this I need to add, for an honest appraisal of what I write here, that I am not a hardcore naval history reader.
What I did like were the parts covering the battle and the eyewitness accounts. I also liked learning some more about the commanders involved and the tactics used. But there were also parts that I didn't enjoy as much. Not liking them is putting it a bit too harsh.
By reading this book you get to know who Jellicoe and Beatty were, and also other commanders in the BS and BCF. You also learn how the Germans viewed this battle and what their flaws were. But the details on the British personalities, and there were quite a number of them in name and character, is what made reading this slow down to a crawl.
Do I find it interesting that such and such was commanding this ship and later became an Earl/Lord/whatever? Nope, I don't. (but maybe British readers think otherwise)
That the Royal Navy tradition and signalling did have an impact on what happened during the battle is clear. But to me the minutiae was a bit too much.
If you are interested in the battle, Royal Navy traditions, and the relationships between the commanders involved, I guess this is a must read.
October 21, 2019
Fantastic book. Andrew Gordon wants to explain what went wrong for the British at the battle of Jutland. The book starts with a forensic analysis of the battle, and the decision taken by the several British commanders, it then takes us back in history to show how the tactics of the Royal Navy evolved in the century before the First World War, a period in which Britain was not entangled in any war. The Navy ended up developing traditions that were not appropriate for real war, such an obsession with maneuvering and signaling. And, of course, the officers that thrived in this environment were not the ones most suited for war. Initiative was not rewarded. Going full-circle, the author shows how this ended up badly in the battle and how it explains all the weird things that happened. The book has some gaps, such as focusing too much in the history of Evan-Thomas and less in that of Jellicoe. And the parts related to the battle are harder to understand without knowledge of naval jargon (a small chapter explaining terms such as port and starboard would be useful). But the sheer volume of knowledge that the reader learn is absolutely incredible. Highly recommended for those who liked Dreadnought.
August 9, 2023
This is a book that I have read several times and periodically re-read because I like it so much. Hence this five-star review.
The Rules of the Game presents the thesis that there was an essential "rot" at the top of the command tree of the pre-World War One Royal Navy. Not the rot of incompetence, the senior officers of the RN in 1914 were, in many respects, an extremely competent bunch. But, Andrew Gordon contends, they were unprepared for their major future task in war, that of actually meeting and defeating their enemies at sea.
For Professor Gordon the RN traded the "Rat Catcher" mentality of the successes of the Napoleonic wars, where promotion was via martial competence for the "Administrator" metality of conformity during the long Victorian summer of effortless, perceived, supremacy. This mindset, through which all of the senior officers of the Great War were raised, was not a good trainng school for the chaos and vagaries of real combat. And, at Jutland, the chickens came home to roost.
Overall an excellent book on the subject of naval command, and of the Battle of Jutland itself. Well worth the price and, even where you do not agree with the thesis Professor Gordon presents, a valuable addition to any naval library.
The Rules of the Game presents the thesis that there was an essential "rot" at the top of the command tree of the pre-World War One Royal Navy. Not the rot of incompetence, the senior officers of the RN in 1914 were, in many respects, an extremely competent bunch. But, Andrew Gordon contends, they were unprepared for their major future task in war, that of actually meeting and defeating their enemies at sea.
For Professor Gordon the RN traded the "Rat Catcher" mentality of the successes of the Napoleonic wars, where promotion was via martial competence for the "Administrator" metality of conformity during the long Victorian summer of effortless, perceived, supremacy. This mindset, through which all of the senior officers of the Great War were raised, was not a good trainng school for the chaos and vagaries of real combat. And, at Jutland, the chickens came home to roost.
Overall an excellent book on the subject of naval command, and of the Battle of Jutland itself. Well worth the price and, even where you do not agree with the thesis Professor Gordon presents, a valuable addition to any naval library.
February 26, 2021
Where to start with this book? If you're looking for a history of the Battle of Jutland then this book certainly has much to recommend it. The author gives a detailed account of the before, during and after of the battle. If he had adhered rigidly to that, then this book would be outstanding. Alas he didn't. About a quarter of the way into the book he veers off on a completely different tangent to describe the social mores which dictated why the Royal Navy fought as it did. We're then treated to at times a plodding account of English society and how it shaped those officers who fought at Jutland. The author gives the impression of half heartedly blaming that for the outcome of the battle but he doesn't seem to believe his own arguments. Too often he repeatedly veers off course to explore some small detail, which is at time irrelevant and at worst infuriating. The final chapter in the book must also be criticized. Its out of place even in this book and is more suitable to a naval college.
To sum up, a good account of a major battle but let down by poor structure and excessive content.
To sum up, a good account of a major battle but let down by poor structure and excessive content.
October 31, 2018
This was a remarkable work of scholarship, an historical forensics analysis for why the Royal Navy Grand Fleet underperformed at Jutland against the German High Fleet. The role of initiative one hundred years earlier the author argues was allowed to atrophy over a long period of relatively unchallenged peace and technological advances. The lessons should be just as relevant in today’s modern navies as we seek to balance what technological marvels have done to extend the commander’s range of decision against the initiative of the local commander (also known as mission command) that is universally held to be paramount. The author really writes with great knowledge and familiarity for the periods and the players, a pleasure to read.
June 29, 2019
There are large parts of this book which should rate a 4 or even a 5. The problem I see is too much divergent detail that doesn't add to the points the author is making. I feel he did an excellent job in most respects to the battle, the people, and why things happened the way they did from the British viewpoint. The author also does an excellent job when faced with a controversy of explaining all the different views and then in a very professional manner explaining which view he finds most believable. I would recommend it to anyone wanting to know more of the why things happened the way they did.
August 19, 2020
A truly incredible blend of narrative description and cold analysis, Rules of the Game is the best book I've read in some time. Frankly, I wish I'd read it years ago as it would have served well as the scholarly foundation several beliefs I've espoused about leadership and the corrosive effects of technological innovation. Fundamentally, this book is readable - not bound up in either the jargon of the academic or the technocrat. If you seek to understand how and why Navies fail or succeed in combat, get this book.
May 17, 2019
Quite a slog, an incredibly thorough and quite exhausting account of the battle of Jutland and the intricacies of Naval command in the RN and culminating in an invaluable final chapter that provides a myriad of lessons that every military leader should be familiar with. For any student of manuever warfare tactics this is an important textbook.
October 28, 2019
The majority of the book was very dry and hard to read. In my opinion, the author included a little too much biographical cross-references and detailed log activities. I could appreciate the schematic overviews, but they didn't make up for the text. Yet, interesting to read about naval operations and how a peace-mindset is a bad preparation for war.
November 30, 2020
This book begins with a minute-by-minute account of the first phases of the Battle of Jutland in 1916, and then shifts to an amusing social history of the Royal Navy from the 1870s to the beginning of World War I, with a focus on the fatal collision of HMS Camperdown with HMS Victoria. Decently written, with a good appreciation for the problems of evidence in understanding the battle.
November 12, 2021
Good, not great unless you happen to be a battleship officer obsessed with arcane details. The middle of the book describing the actual conflict and leaders was excellent. Castles of Steel is better. Jutland has always fascinated me: the contrasting styles, missions, leaders and overall Royal Navy mission of bottling up the German economy.
Shelved as 'dnf'
August 21, 2022Abandoned. Sorry, GP. The only reason I had for reading this was, like Anathem, to discuss it with you. Slogging through it now will not bring you back. I miss you. I love you.
January 19, 2023
This was a great read. The pacing of the book was excellent and the author did an excellent job of bringing together the various strands of thought in the British navy. There is a strong focus on the problems of communication and command during the dreadnought era.
I've read a lot of military history and this book ranks in my top 3.
It is not a book to discover the battle.
I've read a lot of military history and this book ranks in my top 3.
It is not a book to discover the battle.
April 17, 2020
Este libro se va tan por las ramas que es un verdadero Hoja de Niggle jutlandiesco. Recorre todos los detalles, personas, comentarios y antecedentes. Muy completo. Demasiado completo. Se hace inseguible a veces.
June 24, 2020
Brilliant book about the battle of Jutland and why it turned out the way it did. Going through the changes in the Victorian and WW1 royal navy, it's a fascinating read about how hard organizational change and culture is to change.
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