Sheppard and the French Rescue

by G. William Weatherly

  “Open the hatch.” Conrad ran up the ladder as the seawater cascaded into the torpedo room. He hurried past the 10.5 cm deck gun and climbed up on what was left of the fairing. As his eyes adjusted to the blackness, he could see the twisted remains of the tops of both periscopes and the HF antenna. He undogged the upper conning tower hatch, looking inside at Schwicker’s body. Ernst had been new to his crew, but no young man deserved this fate because he just wanted a closer look as the battle cruiser had steamed past.

  Yelling over the diesels, Conrad said, ”Pass the word to LI to drain the conning tower and open the lower hatch.” At least we will be able to prevent more water from flooding the forward torpedo room.

  There was one more thing to ask and everything depended on it. When the lower conning tower hatch finally opened Conrad yelled down for radio to check all their antennas. Before long the answer came back, U-197 had already sent her last message. There was nothing more to do except order both ahead full and turn East away from America and the dawn air patrols as quickly as possible. With luck they would make it back to Le Havre.

  The men all around Sheppard were screaming in agony. Blood had splashed over his uniform and was dripping from his Navy Cross. Suddenly white smoke enveloped them and the phosphorous began to burn its way into flesh and bones. Those who were not badly injured rose and limped or ran to the lifelines hurling themselves over the side into the beckoning sea—anything to put out the terrible burning phosphorous. One by one the men on the deck around him whimpered pitifully, then fell quiet.

  But they rose and began screaming louder. They forced themselves to their feet and began inexorably to come in his direction, zombies from the night ghostly in the white fog. Their outstretched arms were reaching for him. In unison they screamed like harpies, “Why did you do this to us?”

  Sheppard woke. He sat bolt upright in his bunk aft of the conning station bathed in sweat. Had he cried out in his sleep? Did his men know of his nightmare? How long had he slept? What time was it? Was his ship, were his men safe? Where was Evelyn to comfort him now when he needed her? Was he ever going to be free of this terror that awaited him in the dark reaches of his guilt ridden subconscious? The clock on the bulkhead chimed three bells. It must be 0130, he thought.

  Admiral Hardy watched from the flag bridge of HMS Renown as the tugs began to gather at the caisson for the Prince of Wales Dock at Gibraltar. This was the largest dry dock remaining under allied control in Europe and the west coast of Africa outside of Great Britain—at least until the King George Dock was finished at the northern end of the harbor. Sir Bruce was pleased that the smaller dock would finally be clear for the emergency repairs to battle damage suffered by his ships at Cape Vilan. With short whistles sounding more like chirps than blasts, the tugs acknowledged the orders of the master pilot to maneuver the deep slab of the floating gate out of the opening.

  No sooner was the caisson made fast to the mole than the tugs spun about and raced back to catch heaving lines thrown from the stern of Splendid, the second aircraft carrier assigned to Force H. It had taken over two months to repair the damage to her starboard side caused by a German torpedo hit just under her bridge. Slowly the carrier moved out of the dock. First only under the force generated by the two capstans turning near the entrance of the dock pulling on hawsers attached to the carrier’s bow. As Splendid came further out more tugs were made up amidships and the pilot onboard took control of the undocking from the dock master. With the orders to the tugs now coming from the pilot the hawsers were cast off and the tugs alone provided the forces needed to maneuver the carrier clear of the dry dock and against the aviation loading pier.

  Sir Bruce saw the first belch of smoke rise from her stack as her engineers lit the fires in a boiler. He smiled. He would soon have an operational carrier again. HMS Ark Royal needed to enter the dock next to patch the few holes in her hull caused by a German bomb that hit her in the Battle of Cape Vilan. Most of the internal damage to HMS Ark Royal that could be repaired without the docking had already been completed. Two days; three at the outside, and the pumps onboard his second carrier would finally be silent.

  The bulkhead clock in Sheppard’s sea cabin struck one bell in the morning watch (0430) when Petty Officer Jefferson knocked and entered.

  “Good morning, Cap’n, it is another fine Navy day.”

  “That it is, Petty Officer Jefferson, that it is and good morning to you also,” Sheppard smiled at the pleasant ritual that had been part of his sea going life for, what was it—four years now.

  “Cap’n, would you like the usual for breakfast?”

  “That would be very nice.”

  Jefferson turned and left to make the eleven deck decent to the Captain’s pantry and begin the task of cooking up Sheppard’s breakfast.

  The two men had worked out the timing of the morning events perfectly. By the time Jefferson returned with Sheppard’s meal in his ‘Jim Dandiest’ carrying rig as Jefferson had described it, his Captain would have finished washing, shaving and brushing his teeth in the fold out sink that was part of the forward bulkhead of his cabin. Sheppard would then change into a clean uniform for the new day, placing the one that he had slept in neatly stowed in a laundry bag that would periodically be collected. After washing, his khaki uniforms would be starched, pressed and folded. Jefferson would see to it that, when returned they were all carefully stored in the correct drawers with the cleaned fresh items on the bottom of each stack.

  Sheppard had time to finish his breakfast in his usual place, the high upholstered chair on the conning station. After Jefferson had cleared away the tray and dishes it was time for the morning battle stations. A request from the Officer of the Deck followed by an order from the Captain and the Boatswain’s Mate of the Watch went to the 1MC microphone sounding the pipe Word to be passed, “ss-s-s-sssssss;” followed by, “General quarters, general quarters, man your battle stations.” The general alarm was then sounded, “Bong, Bong, Bong, … ,” fourteen in total. Sheppard wondered why the designers had selected fourteen; any single bong would wake the dead. Then a final, “Man your battle stations!”

  Most of the crew and officers were already up, but now the race began. If you had to move down or aft in the ship you did that on the port side. Up or forward was done on the starboard side. With that system collisions between running men were rare and injuries even less so. As soon as the running men had finished passing through the watertight doors and hatches in Argonne, those openings were shut and dogged tight. If she was damaged, the damage would be contained to the smallest possible area of the ship, whether it was explosion, fire or flooding. Once all men were present at any given station the phone talker would report, “Manned” to the next supervisory watch station in the ship. When all equipment had been prepared for action, ammunition hoists filled, machinery started, electric switchboards split or any of thousands of other items completed, the spaces would report, “Ready.”

  Sheppard would punch his stopwatch when the Officer of the Deck in the armored command tower reported on the 21MC, “Battle stations manned and ready!” Five minutes twelve seconds—Sheppard wasn’t that pleased. Argonne had done better, but some of the rust needed to be worked out by everyone as well as the new crew members becoming familiar with their assignments and this was the first routine GQ (General Quarters) that had been exercised in almost two weeks. There was only two minutes to spare before first light.

  Always the most dangerous time for a warship at sea, as the visibility began to improve unexpected enemy forces could be near and have approached unseen in the dark. Modern radar was making it less likely, but radar would not detect a submarine lurking to ambush a ship silhouetted against the eastern horizon. A wise sailor was always prepared for the unexpected and Argonne was filled with wise intelligent seamen.

  All this mattered little to the engineers in Argonne’s boiler and engine rooms. Regardless of the watch condition, they oiled, wiped, adjusted, and tuned the engines and machine
ry to keep Argonne racing toward Gibraltar with every bit of power they could coax out of her massive engines.

  Ammiraglio di Armata Gugliehno Romano the commander of the Italian Battle Fleet based in Naples was enjoying a cup of cappuccino with Ammiraglio di Squadra Leonardo Moretti the commander of the Italian scouting forces on board the Battle Fleet flagship Italia. It was a closely guarded secret that Mussolini had approved an operation in the Mediterranean for the entire Italian fleet. Generaloberst Rommel had asked that the Italian Fleet make a show of force off Mers el Kébir to convince the French that there was no alternative to surrender. That would be the official reason for the Italian fleet to sail, but the real purpose was a secret. Not even the naval representative of Italy’s ally, Admiral Schröder, was to be informed.

  Both Italian admirals knew that this war would eventually end. Inevitably when it did the French fleet in Mers el Kébir, if under German control, would represent a threat to Italian naval hegemony in the Mediterranean. However close the axis alliance was now, it might not last. Even worse, the Germans might decide to return the fleet to France as the price for a bilateral treaty guaranteeing an alliance with France once the war in Europe ended. Italy had faced French aspirations in Mare Nostrum for a century and was not about to allow the Germans to control a sizeable fleet that could challenge Italian supremacy regardless of which flag they flew. As long as the British controlled the Straits of Gibraltar, Italian thinking was that the French fleet would remain in the Med. Italy could not allow that potential challenge to remain.

  Mussolini recognized that there was no other answer than the complete destruction of the French fleet before the Germans could capture it or it could escape to a port outside Italy’s reach. If the Germans succeeded in capturing the ships, Italy could not attack them nor demand that her ally turn them over to Mussolini. The only solution was to capture them or destroy them before Rommel arrived. The entire Italian Battle Fleet sailing off Mers el Kébir before Rommel arrived might convince the French admiral to surrender his ships to Italy rather than Germany. If Amiral D’Aubigné did not surrender, then the Italians would spark a fight resulting in the total destruction of all the French warships. That thinking was the genesis of Operation Guardare al Futuro.

  Admiral Klaus Schröder was pleased with the plan that he and Fritz had come up with. Fritz was telephoning his brother in Paris at that very minute while Klaus was drafting the cable to the German Embassy in Switzerland. In a telephone call earlier Großadmiral Erich Raeder had given his approval to implement the plan, but Klaus knew that he was not optimistic of its success. Raeder didn’t know of the part that Karl Bodermann was going to play. That was the real key to the success of the plan.

  Schröder thanked God that the Swiss could provide a channel of communications to the French in Oran. There had to be a way to send messages to the French Amiral D’Aubigné and to receive his answers. Schröder’s first cable read:

  My Dear Amiral D’Aubigné,

  I am certain that you and your fleet recognize the hopelessness of your situation. Generaloberst Rommel has assured me that within a week’s time his panzers will have occupied Oran and captured your fleet. I am certain that you do not have the fuel or supplies to reach another more distant port or you would have left already.

  As one professional naval officer to another, there is honor in the preservation of the lives of the men under your command. I am prepared as the Führers direct naval representative in Italy and with the full cooperation of the German Army, to offer you a safe passage to Toulon were you and your men can be repatriated to your homes and families without bloodshed. Germany is not interested in the useless slaughter of brave sailors. We only wish that your ships not fall into the hands of your historical enemy, the British, whom have cowardly attacked your fleet once with considerable loss of life.

  I cannot delay Generaloberst Rommel’s progress even one day. I fear that once your ships are under his guns there is no hope for an outcome satisfactory to all concerned. I require your answer no later than 1600 GMT on the 22nd of May 1942.

  Klaus Schröder

  Admiral Kriegsmarine des Führers naval representative to the Italian Navy

  That would give the French about 2 days to consider the proposal before the deadline. Fritz had assured him that would be more than enough time for his brother Karl to complete the research needed in the records of the old French Naval Ministry. Klaus already could guess at what answer the French would give. It really didn’t matter what they said this time. It would be the next cable that would be more demanding—with consequences.

  The little net tender was pulling on the line of floats supporting the anti-submarine barrier across the south entrance to Gibraltar Harbor. Composed of interlocking steel mesh the barrier prevented submarines or torpedoes from gaining access to the warships berthed inside the moles. Effective as it was, the net was a considerable inconvenience when ships were trying to enter or leave. In the roadstead Admiral Hardy’s reinforcements moved slowly toward the entrance, delaying until the net could be removed.

  His Majesty’s Ships Invincible, Inflexible, Indomitable, and Indefatigable were perhaps the oddest looking battle cruisers ever constructed. They were on a par with other ships built in the early 1920s being armed with nine 16.5-inch guns in three gun turrets and a secondary armament of sixteen 6-inch guns in two gun turrets. Their anti-aircraft armament was limited to 4.7»/40s in single open mounts and 2pdr pompoms in eight gun octuple mounts. Only the 20mm Oerlikons were a recent improvement. What made these warships so unusual was the arrangement of their main turrets. From the bow, turrets A and B were conventionally arranged before the tower superstructure, but Q turret was located aft of the tower nearly amidships but forward of the machinery spaces. As a result main armament fire could not be directed aft.

  At 32 knots they were the equal of the remodeled HMS Renown and Repulse but slow by modern standards—barely able to outrun the newer battleships. They would have been modernized after the ‘Admiral’ class had the war not come to Britain in 1939. However, their armor was exceptional with a sloped belt of up to 14 inches of face hardened steel internally and deck armor of 9 inches protecting the magazines. When it came to protection, the British had learned the supposed lessons of Jutland, where three of their battle cruisers had been destroyed by internal explosions.

  Sir Bruce wondered if they were going to remain attached to Force H or would the First Sea Lord send them back to the Home Fleet when the repairs to the German ships in Brest completed. Speaking of repairs, the Ark Royal would need two days in dock to patch her hull. He was going to lose time as the supports in the bottom of the dry dock, called blocks, were repositioned for the Renown to repair the holes in her starboard anti-torpedo bulge caused by the American armor piercing shell. It would take a day to reposition the blocks and then another to repair Renown. The real question on his mind was to sail on the night of May 23rd, with five battle cruisers or wait until the 25th when he would have all six. If he waited he could keep his flag in Renown and gain the advantage of his exceptional Flag Captain Sir Phillip Kelley RN VC KBE DSO Commanding Officer of the Renown. Sir Bruce would also gain a second of his most capable anti-aircraft assets. He had a few days to decide. After all, the Americans had not requested Force H to meet the Argonne off of Mers el Kébir until the afternoon of May 24th, but a request was not an order and there were exceptional reasons to delay. Sir Bruce directed his communications officer to draft a message for the Admiralty, outlining his need for the delay with a request that it be forwarded to the Americans. If the Admiralty really wanted him in a support position on the 24th, it would be their decision.

  The message arrived about 1200 from the Führer’s headquarters authorizing Operation Doverübung. There were a thousand things for Günter Lütjens’s staff to accomplish. The Operation order specified a breakout through the Denmark Strait on or about May 30th, at the full moon. German optical range finders and directors would be at the least disadvanta
ge in comparison to the allied radar then. Everything that had to be accomplished had to be backed up in time from that point. An advanced location had to be selected for the final fueling rendezvous before Moeller’s Fleet sailed for the breakout into the Atlantic. Supply tankers had to be positioned in the Atlantic to keep his ships supplied with fuel, food, and ammunition. The position of the supply ships needed to be coordinated with a general plan for the raid. Ranging far in the North and South Atlantic would use significant fuel, but staying in one area would make the allied task of hunting Moeller much easier.

  The first question was the jumping off point. The closest was Trondheim with Narvik and Bergen slightly further away. The construction of basing facilities at Trondheim was well advanced which made the decision all the easier. From Trondheim it was about 1,100 nautical miles to the Denmark Strait. Two days steaming at 24 knots. Moeller would have to leave Trondheim on the morning of the 28th to arrive at dawn in the Strait, though dawn was relative since at that latitude daylight lasted nearly 24 hours.

  It would take two full days to replenish Moeller’s fleet in Trondheim which meant he had to arrive no later than 1600 GMT on the afternoon of the 25th. It was two days steaming from the Jade to Trondheim. That set Moeller’s underway time as 1600 on the 23rd. Sufficient tankers would have to leave tomorrow as they did not have the speed to get there in time otherwise.

  The problem of coordinating supply ships and rendezvous was easier. Schröder’s supply ships still had all of their cargoes intact and when Schröder had been defeated, they had remained on station instead of being recalled to Spain. The plan to support Schröder would be adequate to support Moeller since the numbers of major warships was the same. Just as Schröder needed to conserve his major caliber ammunition so too would Moeller. Lütjens’s staff had yet to come up with a viable way to transfer ammunition heavier than 60 kilograms at sea.