Three thousand miles across the seas the men on the British Grand Fleet were likewise eating their hearts out because the enemy dreadnaughts, after the one dash at Jutland, were hugging the home ports, denying to Allied naval forces the chance for which all other days had been but preparation. All naval teaching for generations had instilled into American and British youth the doctrine that, whereas battles on land might continue for months, domination of the sea would be lost or won in a few moments when the giant dreadnaughts engaged in a titanic duel. German naval strategy, after the drawn battle at Jutland, defeated all naval experience and expectation. Hiding behind their strong defenses, never venturing forth in force, they imposed the strain and the unexciting watchful waiting which more than anything else irks men who long to put their mettle to the test by a decisive encounter.
The acme of happiness to the fleets at Yorktown and at Scapa Flow to which all looked, both before and after the American division joined the British Grand Fleet, was a battle royal where skill and courage and modern floating forts would meet the supreme test. It was not to be. The disappointment of both navies was scarcely lessened by the knowledge that they had gained a complete victory through successful methods which a different character of warfare brought into existence. They wished the glorious privilege of sinking the ships in an engagement rather than permitting the Germans later to scuttle them. Admiral Beatty voiced the regret of both navies in his farewell address to his American shipmates, when he said: "I know quite well that you, as well as all of our British comrades, were bitterly disappointed at not being able to give effect to that efficiency you have so well maintained."
The sense of disappointment at the drab ending was heightened by the belief entertained that there had been times when the bold and daring offensive would have compelled a great naval battle. In Germany, fed up for years on the claim of naval superiority and stuffed with fake stories of a great German victory at Jutland, there had been demand that their navy make proof of its worth by giving battle instead of rusting in home ports. Men of the navies that had produced Nelsons, and Farraguts and John Paul Joneses and Deweys grow restive under inaction. They knew that the existence and readiness of the two great fleets and of the French and Italian fleets held the German High Seas Fleet in behind shore protection, rendering impotent the force Von Tirpitz had assured Germany would sink enemy ships. But the dreary program of blockade carried on during four long years was not to their liking. It succeeded, but it was not the finish for which they had trained. They longed to the very end for the real fight, the daring drive, the bringing of their big guns into play, the final combat which could end only with annihilation of the enemy's fleet.