Origins of the Scharnhorst-Class Warships
In the early 1930s, as the Deutschland-class pocket battleship was still under construction, the German Naval High Command secretly began planning two new battlecruisers designed to counter France’s Dunkerque-class fast battleships. These vessels would bear the names of Prussian military reformers Scharnhorst and Gneisenau, honoring the architects of Germany’s modern military tradition.
The ships were laid down in early 1935 with remarkable secrecy, reflecting Germany’s careful navigation of Versailles Treaty restrictions. Scharnhorst launched first in May 1938, followed by Gneisenau in July 1939. Their design incorporated advanced steam turbines that delivered an impressive 32-knot speed, while their main armament consisted of three triple 280mm gun turrets (two forward, one aft) complemented by twelve 150mm secondary guns along the superstructure. This formidable configuration made them Germany’s most powerful surface combatants at the outbreak of World War II.
Early Operations and Tactical Debut
Before their official combat deployment, the sister ships conducted an audacious naval sortie that revealed both German ingenuity and the challenges they would face. On November 21, 1939, the two battleships departed Wilhelmshaven under Vice Admiral Marschall’s command, beginning their first hunting mission in the North Atlantic.
Their operational plan demonstrated characteristic German thoroughness: they would sail north along the Norwegian coast, feign an Atlantic breakout between the Faroe Islands and Iceland, then exploit their speed to either attack shipping or retreat under Arctic darkness. This flexible approach highlighted the Kriegsmarine’s understanding of their numerical inferiority against the Royal Navy.
The operation’s first engagement came on November 23 when the ships encountered the British armed merchant cruiser Rawalpindi. Though hopelessly outgunned, the British vessel chose to fight, transmitting sighting reports before being destroyed in a two-hour battle. This action triggered a massive Royal Navy response, with battleships Nelson, Rodney, Hood, and others deploying across the Atlantic. Yet through skillful maneuvering and weather exploitation, the German ships evaded detection and returned safely by November 27.
Norway Campaign and Atlantic Raids
The spring of 1940 saw the battleships support Germany’s invasion of Norway. During operations near Narvik, they briefly engaged the British battlecruiser Renown, with Gneisenau suffering hits before disengaging. Their most significant success came in June when they surprised the aircraft carrier HMS Glorious and its destroyer escorts. In a devastating display of gunnery, they sank the carrier and two destroyers, though Scharnhorst sustained torpedo damage requiring months of repairs.
After convalescing in Germany, the ships embarked on a bold Atlantic raiding mission in January 1941 under Admiral Lütjens. Their two-month sortie became a masterclass in commerce raiding, sinking 16 merchant ships (82,000 tons) while repeatedly evading British pursuals. The operation culminated in a daring dash to occupied Brest, France, where they arrived on March 22 after outmaneuvering multiple British interception attempts.
The Channel Dash: Operation Cerberus
By 1942, the Brest-based squadron (now including heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen) faced constant air attacks. Hitler, concerned about Allied invasion threats to Norway, ordered their return to Germany. The resulting Channel Dash (Operation Cerberus) on February 11-13 became one of the war’s most audacious naval operations.
German planners executed an elaborate deception, simulating preparations for tropical deployment while secretly readying for a daylight run through the English Channel. The fleet benefited from:
– Meticulous route clearance by minesweepers
– Coordinated Luftwaffe fighter coverage
– Electronic jamming of British coastal radar
– Perfect timing with tidal currents
Despite British belated reactions, the squadron fought through aerial and coastal artillery attacks, though both battleships struck mines during the transit. Scharnhorst hit two mines, suffering serious damage, while Gneisenau struck one. Both reached Germany but required extensive repairs, effectively ending their operational careers.
The End at North Cape
After Gneisenau was bombed in drydock (never to sail again), Scharnhorst alone deployed to Norway in 1943. On December 25, under Admiral Bey, it sortied to attack Arctic convoy JW-55B. What followed was the Battle of North Cape, a dramatic confrontation that sealed Germany’s surface naval fortunes.
Critical errors doomed Scharnhorst:
1. Breaking radio silence allowed British direction-finding
2. Dispatching escorting destroyers on fruitless searches
3. Choosing a predictable retreat route toward Norway
Intercepted by cruisers Belfast, Sheffield, and Norfolk, then trapped by battleship Duke of York, Scharnhorst fought desperately. Hit repeatedly by 14-inch shells and torpedoes, it sank on December 26 with only 36 survivors from 1,839 crew. The victorious British commander, Admiral Fraser, remarked: “Gentlemen, the battle against the Scharnhorst has ended in victory for us. I hope that any of you who are ever called upon to lead a ship into action against an opponent many times superior will command your ship as gallantly as the Scharnhorst was commanded today.”
Legacy and Historical Significance
The Scharnhorst-class epitomized Germany’s interwar naval ambitions—technologically advanced but strategically constrained. Their operational history reveals several key insights:
1. Doctrine vs. Reality: Designed for commerce raiding, they proved vulnerable when forced into fleet actions against capital ships.
2. Technical Compromises: The 280mm guns, chosen for rate of fire over caliber, proved inadequate against modern battleships.
3. Strategic Impact: Their Atlantic raids caused significant disruption but failed to alter the naval balance. The Channel Dash, while tactically brilliant, had little strategic value.
4. Symbolic Importance: As the Kriegsmarine’s last operational capital ships, their loss marked the end of Germany’s surface naval threat, allowing Allied focus on U-boats and the Pacific theater.
Today, Scharnhorst’s wreck lies off North Cape, a war grave and reminder of naval warfare’s evolution during WWII. The ships’ stories continue to fascinate historians, illustrating both the pinnacle of German naval engineering and the ultimate futility of their surface fleet strategy against Allied industrial and numerical superiority.