“Yes sir.” Commander Peterson turned and left Sheppard alone with his thoughts of the fire that raged in Shenandoah’s hanger, betraying his location to the Japanese and leading to the deaths of so many of his men. I have to focus on the here and now! Nothing will bring those men back.
“Corporal Pease, please send for Petty Officer Brewster.”
Shortly, Sheppard’s personal yeoman entered, “Brewster, please coordinate with Commander Grabowski and the Superintendent’s office to find a time that is convenient today for me to call on Rear Admiral Utley.”
“Yes sir.”
Sheppard looked at the schedule that Brewster had coordinated for him today and noticed that he had ten minutes before his Gunnery Officer, Commander Chuck Williamson, was scheduled for a meeting. He went across his stateroom from the large table that sat almost amidships to the desk in the alcove formed by the barbette of the number three six-inch three gun turret. There he took out a pen and some of the “Commanding Officer USS Argonne” personal stationary to write a few quick letters.
Dear Admiral and Mrs. Ingraham,
I can’t thank you enough for the kindness that you have shown to Evelyn and I in arranging housing for us in both Philadelphia and Norfolk. It has made a world of difference for the two of us in being together while Argonne has been docked for repairs. I am sure you have had to pull strings to get housing this nice for a battle cruiser captain. I remain in your debt.
Sincerely,
Sheppard McCloud
The next several were to each of his five children. His oldest son, David was flying F4Fs now assigned to the aircraft carrier President in the Pacific out of San Diego. He knew the rumors about an impending push by the Japanese to finish the job that they had started at Pearl Harbor and hoped that David would survive, but more importantly, be courageous when the time inevitably came to face an enemy bent on killing him. The country needed a victory in that theater of war as badly as it had needed one in the Atlantic. Writing to his son Peter was much easier. At least Peter was still safe at West Point, though Sheppard expected that as an upper-classman Peter and all of his classmates would be accelerated, graduating early to fill officer billets in the rapidly expanding Army. It would not be long before Evelyn would have to worry about two of her sons being at war, as well as her husband.
Corporal Westbrook, having relieved Corporal Pease for the morning watch, knocked and announced Commander Chuck Williamson, showing him into the Captain’s stateroom.
“Good morning, Chuck! How is the main battery alignment going?”
“Captain, it is going very well. It is nice to do it in a Navy Yard where everyone is only interested in doing the procedure correctly. The shipyard managed to come up with a few more bore-sight telescopes, breech adaptors, and muzzle targets to let us do an entire turret at once. That has been saving us considerable time and allowed us to get an exact parallel for the guns. We also found that the shimming of the trunnion bearings was off. That error undoubtedly also contributed to the poor alignment done in New York Ship.
“Captain, I may have overstepped my authority invoking your name with respect to the trunnion bearings. I didn’t want to disturb you over the weekend.”
“Chuck, it is all right. If it was to improve the accuracy of the alignment, you have my blessing. What of replacing our expended special anti-aircraft common projectiles with the radar fuses?”
“Captain, on that issue, I have nothing but good news. The Bureau of Ordnance was so pleased with the results from the Battle of Cape Vilan that they are going to give us replacements up to a total of five thousand of the new five inch shells. I managed to talk them out of another five hundred fuses with adapters that we can use for our six inch or eighteen inch high capacity projectiles. They had wanted to exchange some of our contact fused projectiles for the radar fused ones. Again, I didn’t want to disturb you even though the Bureau wanted an immediate answer. When I told them I could not give them one, they suggested a solution allowing my gunner’s mates to do the work onboard.”
“Chuck, I think it is a good one, as long as your people are comfortable making the fuse changes onboard.”
“Captain, senior Chief Hancock has assured me that we have several gunner’s mates who did that very job at an ordnance depot in the past.”
“Very well, Chuck, how long would it take to change the fuse on a projectile?”
“About five minutes, Captain, ten if we were careful and had to swap the gains from the contact fuse to the radar fuse.”
“Okay, but don’t change any of the contact fuses until I tell you. I can’t say ahead of time how we would have to use our high capacity shells and you know the restrictions against firing them over enemy held territory.”
“Aye, aye, Captain. There is one more thing. The Bureau of Ordnance believes that the flight paths of shells from a turret are still interfering with each other even with our current delay coils. They have new ones that fire the two wing guns simultaneously and the center gun a full two seconds later. I have the Ordalt package but need your permission to install it. We will be the first battle cruiser with this and it should improve the accuracy of our salvos even more.”
“Okay, Chuck, install the modification but keep the old delay coils if it doesn’t work out.”
Almost 4,000 miles to the east-northeast, the last of the 19 gun salute was reverberating from the steel hulls of the German battle fleet anchored in the Jade Bay. Großadmiral Erich Raeder, the Kriegsmarine’s highest ranking officer, had come to meet with Generaladmiral Günter Lütjens, Flottenchef (Fleet Commander) and Commander of Battleships. Both men knew that the strategic situation was at a critical point. The English newspapers, obtained through Switzerland and Spain, were filled with reports of scrap metal drives and citizens growing victory gardens for food. It was clear to both men that the British were near to starvation and defeat.
The only real question was how best to convince the British Prime Minister that further resistance was futile. The Luftwaffe under that fat egomaniac Goering had failed to break the Royal Air Force in almost two years of trying. The vaunted German Army had attempted a landing but when the Royal Navy’s destroyer squadrons had attacked, just before dawn, 59,000 soldiers had been killed last year, drowned as their landing barges sank. Lütjens had made certain that the destroyers had paid a heavy price, but the landing force was cut off and eventually surrendered before they could reach London. What damage that had been inflicted on the Kriegsmarine’s Battle Fleet had been repaired. Unfortunately, the same was true for the Royal Navy. The building race that had been going on for almost two decades was still essentially a tie for their strategic situation, with neither nation able to achieve any clear superiority in the North Sea. At least Hitler was still enamored with the ever larger battleships and battle cruisers that were being constructed at the new building yards in Danzig, Wilhelmshaven, and Hamburg.
The damage done to Vizeadmiral Schröder’s fleet at the Battle of Cape Vilan had destroyed the plans to use his battle cruisers and carriers to raid the British convoys. There were the outlines of two options now open for discussion. The first appealed to both admirals. If the German battle fleet sortied from the Jade and sought a decisive encounter with the Home Fleet before American reinforcements arrived, German submarines and mines just might be able to ambush the English and bring the two fleets to parity when they fought. The only problem was that der Führer did not want to risk his splendid battleships in a fleet action.
The two admirals, both veterans of World War I, marveled at how similar these two wars were being fought. Both Kaiser Wilhelm and Hitler would rather risk millions of men in the Army to unending slaughter than use their navies for a decisive blow to the English supply lines. Germany did not need a navy to survive, but Great Britain did. Conversely, Germany needed her army. For naval officers it was lunacy to risk what was needed and hold back what was not.
That only left the second option. If the fleet sortied as a ruse to cov
er sending a replacement force for Schröder’s fleet north of Iceland, the English Admiral Tovey would not be able to cover both. To protect his base and the British eastern coastline, he would have to keep his fleet concentrated in the North Sea just as Jellicoe had in the first war. What was different this time was that Germany had captured Norway. Despite Raeder’s efforts to build bases there, it would still be at least a few months before the battle fleet as a whole could base in Trondheim or a full year if the Vestfjord was used.
There remained the questions of what ships to send and who should command the fleet. Günter did not want to lose the very able commander of his scouting forces, Admiral Kummetz. It seemed easier to settle on the ships. Peter Strasser and Manfred von Richthofen, the two oldest carriers still with the fleet in the Jade, were available for air support. Raeder overruled Lütjens and decided to send the Freiherr von Seydlitz class battle cruisers of the 3rd squadron rather than those of the 4th squadron. Taking a lesson from the Battle of Cape Vilan, they decided to send four armored cruisers Barbarossa, Hansa, Vineta, and Freya; and six light cruisers and two full squadrons of Z.49 class destroyers would provide anti-submarine protection and screening. A few of the remaining scout cruisers would provide reconnaissance and support to the destroyers if ordered to conduct a torpedo attack.
Unspoken was the concern that the main fleets were being too depleted. That left the thorny issue of command of this now rather considerable force. The various candidates were debated for over an hour. Those officers who were sufficiently “air minded” were too junior in comparison to Konteradmiral Pauli Hartmann, the commander of the 3rd battle cruiser squadron. Eventually they settled on Vizeadmiral Joachim Moeller. Joachim was not an aviator, but had demonstrated a good understanding of the use of aviation in the last tabletop war game that Generaladmiral Lütjens had conducted for his flag officers.
Raeder assured Lütjens that der Führer had approved the operation in principle, though Lütjens still had his doubts. His predecessor had been summarily dismissed for using the fleet contrary to Hitler’s orders. He was not going to make that mistake. His last comment to Erich as he got ready to depart the flagship, Frundsberg, was that he would make the arrangements necessary, but would not sail a ship until he received an order directly from Hitler’s headquarters.
“Alard, it is so good to see you. Will you please come in out of the rain?” Madame D’Aubigné extended her ivory right hand for her guest to kiss. Of medium height, still slender and strikingly beautiful with her green eyes and raven tresses even in her mid-fifties, Daphne D’Aubigné was lord of all she surveyed in the absence of her husband.
“Merci, madame.”
“Welcome to Chateau D’Aubigné. It has been too long since your last visit. I only wish my husband could be here to welcome an old friend.”
“Oui, madame, but I would wish the circumstances of my visits were different. Perhaps one day we can meet without the need for me to smuggle your prized art to Switzerland.”
“Yes, Alard, but our brave sailors must eat and the les bosches continue their efforts to force my husband into surrendering his fleet.”
“If only France had more patriots such as your husband. One day the sacrifices that your family is making will be known and he will rightfully take his place with Dusquesne, de Grasse, Picquet de la Motte, and Suffren as the great admirals of France.”
“Merci, Alard,” Madame D’Aubigné turned to a servant. “Gérard, bring our guest a Cognac”
“Oui, Madame. The Courvoisier?”
“No, bring the LaFontaine de La Pouyade.”
It was late afternoon by the time that Sheppard returned to the Argonne from his meeting with Rear Admiral Utley. It had been a pleasant enough conversation with the Admiral agreeing that Mr. Feldman was not doing a good job as the shipyard’s liaison and supervisor of Argonne’s refit. On a better note he was pleased to hear how helpful Mr. Hess had been and how well the propeller change was progressing. The two men parted company with an agreement that a Mr. Wozniak, an experienced ship supervisor would be assigned to oversee Mr. Feldman’s support and offer suggestions as needed. Mr. Wozniak would meet with Sheppard daily to insure that everything was being addressed adequately. As he left Sheppard could not understand why the Admiral was smiling. Utley never smiled.
As soon as Sheppard entered his stateroom, Ted Grabowski was waiting for him. “Afternoon, Ted, I thought I was done for the day. What gives?”
“Captain, I know how much you hate ceremonies, but you are not going to be able to avoid this one.” With that Ted handed him the message board containing the afternoon traffic on top. “The top one is the one of immediate concern.”
Sheppard started reading, skimming past the addressees lines and concentrating on the text. “Captain Sheppard Jackson McCloud will attend an award ceremony at the White House at 1300 local on the 19th of May following a luncheon in his honor served promptly at 1100. At the ceremony Captain McCloud will be presented the Navy Cross by the President—uniform service dress blue able. Mrs. McCloud’s presence at the ceremony and luncheon is specifically requested by the First Lady.” Sheppard sat down … stunned.
“Congratulations, Captain!” Ted gushed with enthusiasm. “I am afraid that this is the worst kept secret on Argonne I have ever seen. Your yeoman Brewster told me he heard it from a boatswain’s mate not five minutes after the radioman returned with the afternoon message traffic from the yard communications center.”
“I’d better call and tell Evelyn.”
“Captain, please forgive me but in your absence I already have. I knew she would want to go shopping in the downtown stores before they closed and sent the sedan to pick her up. I know that I am not supposed to do that, but Captain; it is the White House and she did say that she didn’t have anything to wear.”
“All right, Ted, but we had better let Admiral Utley’s Chief of Staff know in case someone complains about one of the yard’s sedans being seen in downtown Philadelphia in wartime.”
“Way ahead of you, Captain. The only hard spot was making sure that Admiral Utley could get through your meeting with a straight face. The yard acquiesced to our request to let us tell you first.”
“Captain, if you will follow me there are a few people who want to congratulate you before you leave for Washington tomorrow morning.”
Ted turned and left holding the stateroom door open for Sheppard. He then led his Captain through the superstructure of Argonne until they exited into the fading sunlight just forward of the Number III 18-inch three gun turret. The turret had been trained to starboard in preparation for the evening alignment to the North Star, or so Sheppard thought. Ted climbed the ladder to the top of the turret as Sheppard wondered what was going on. By the way, where was his orderly? Since the days of sail, captains of ships of the line always had an armed marine with them, ostensibly for protection from mutineers.
As Sheppard’s head came into view of the fantail he heard Major Morris Jenkins, the commander of his Marine detachment sound off, “Present Arms! Hands, Salute!” It was an impressive sight. Lined up in front of Sheppard must have been the entire compliment of Argonne all saluting. At Morris’s command, “Ready to; Order arms.” Chief Turret Captain Hancock, the senior chief petty officer onboard stepped forward.
“Three cheers for the Captain; Hip, Hip Hurray; Hip, Hip, Hurray; Hip, Hip, Hurray!”
Sheppard looked at Ted who was clapping and hooting like the rest of the crew, with tears in his eyes. Sheppard was obviously not the only man who knew of this old sailing navy tradition that had fallen out of use about the turn of the century. He climbed down on the right side of the turret to shake as many hands as he could. Fifteen minutes later as the last of the day faded into night, Commander Grabowski rescued his Captain; sending him home in a borrowed sedan.
It was so good to finally rest in his arms. He was nervous about what lay ahead, but happy in what they had accomplished. Perhaps it would ease his pain to know that a great victory
had been won; more importantly that it had been achieved without costing the lives of his men. Were they being rewarded for all the struggles and hardships, the secrets and desires that had been overcome? Oh if it could only stay as it was now.
But she knew it would not. She could feel that their rest was coming to an end. Everyone about them seems frantic with effort to complete something too soon. What lay ahead, why the secrecy and subterfuge? Would he be called away from her, or would they both be asked to do something new—something for the country—something with great risk? Whatever lay ahead she was confident in his abilities to protect and guide them. She could rely on her love—on this Shepherd.
Admiral Jonas Ingraham, his face lined with the heavy responsibilities he bore, sat in the morning briefing with his principal staff officers. The subject was the continuing deterioration of the situation in the Mediterranean. There was no good news. General Erwin Rommel was moving quickly. He would conquer Algeria and Morocco before anything could be done by Great Britain or the United States. The French had a powerful fleet at Mers el Kébir, but they had no supply line for food, fuel, or ammunition now that all of metropolitan France proper had been occupied by the Germans. The French Foreign Legion in Algeria were tough fighters but lacked the tanks and air force needed to hold against the panzers of Hitler. Montgomery’s army in Palestine would need at least three months to reequip before they could launch an attack on the Italian forces guarding Rommel’s strategic rear in Egypt.
The briefing officer continued with what was known of the Italian situation. Grand’ Ammiragilio Aldo Dragonetti had redeployed the Italian fleet from Taranto to Naples and LaSpezia following the British evacuation of Alexandria. The damage inflicted by the Fleet Air Arm attack in 1940 had been largely repaired with Mussolini’s Regia Marina currently possessing twelve modern battleships and six modern battle cruisers. They had numerous cruisers and destroyers of all types and a large well trained submarine force. Though they only possessed four aircraft carriers, the Italians excelled in maneuver, gunner and torpedo attacks. The Italian air force was large and well equipped with fighters and bombers. The Regia Aeronautica possessed an exceptional bomber in the S.M.79 Sparviero as well as the bombs and air launched torpedoes to make the aircraft a formidable anti-ship weapon. However, the coordination between the two services was poor. Detection by one would not necessarily mean an attack by the other.
Sheppard and the French Rescue Page 6