Kirov Saga:
Knight’s Move
By
John Schettler
A publication of: The Writing Shop Press
Knight’s Move, Copyright©2015, John A. Schettler
KIROV SERIES:
The Kirov Saga: Season One
Kirov - Kirov Series - Volume 1
Cauldron Of Fire - Kirov Series - Volume 2
Pacific Storm - Kirov Series - Volume 3
Men Of War - Kirov Series - Volume 4
Nine Days Falling - Kirov Series - Volume 5
Fallen Angels - Kirov Series - Volume 6
Devil’s Garden - Kirov Series - Volume 7
Armageddon – Kirov Series – Volume 8
The Kirov Saga: Season Two
Altered States– Kirov Series – Volume 9
Darkest Hour– Kirov Series – Volume 10
Hinge Of Fate– Kirov Series – Volume 11
Three Kings – Kirov Series – Volume 12
Grand Alliance – Kirov Series – Volume 13
Hammer Of God – Kirov Series – Volume 14
Crescendo Of Doom – Kirov Series – Volume 15
Paradox Hour – Kirov Series – Volume 16
The Kirov Saga: Season Three
Doppelganger – Kirov Series – Volume 17
Nemesis – Kirov Series – Volume 18
Winter Storm – Kirov Series – Volume 19
Tide Of Fortune – Kirov Series – Volume 20
Knight’s Move – Kirov Series – Volume 21
Turning Point – Kirov Series – Volume 22
More to come…
Kirov Saga:
Knight’s Move
By
John Schettler
Kirov Saga:
Knight’s Move
By
John Schettler
Part I – A Different Game
Part II – Banzai!
Part III – Rösselsprung
Part IV – Rock of the East
Part V – Bitter Dregs
Part VI – Shadow of Things To Come
Part VII – Gift of the Magi
Part VIII – Plan 7
Part IX – Knight’s Move
Part X – Cover of Darkness
Part XI – Encounter
Part XII – Flight of the Goeben
Kirov Series Battle Book I (Info)
Author’s Note:
Dear Readers,
This story gets into your head in some very interesting ways, particularly when you are imagining it and laboring to bring it to life as the author, day by day, hour by hour. About half the time I spend on each book is devoted to research and war gaming the outcomes I present for all the battles in the series. The Canary Islands action, for example, was designed down to a scale of 1km per hex and extensively simulated before the results were eventually written up into the story. I don’t just decide who will win or lose on a whim, but try to thoroughly test that to give the outcomes as much authenticity as possible.
Sometimes I get so absorbed in the research, weaving it into the story, that it lingers in my mind as I sleep, and emerges in dreams. One morning I awoke at 5AM with the lingering remnants of a dream in my mind, a steel warship was anchored off a major port, and the words “USS Washington” and “Knight” were stuck in my mind. I could not recall any research I had done to create this image, or those words, but I lay there in the dark with my tablet device and Googled them up. To my great surprise, I soon found a historical breadcrumb trail of references that become the subject matter for Part IX of this novel, aptly entitled “Knight’s Move.” It seemed a little spooky, but that’s what happened, and how my mind sometimes works to build story connections that become seeds of subplots to relate some of the mystery that underlies the entire series.
As to the title of this volume, it first came to me as I researched the German Operation Rösselsprung in 1942, the operation of the Tirpitz against Convoy PQ-17. I will have work for Tirpitz later in the story, but for now, I took that operational name and used it for the mission Admiral Raeder gives to Kaiser Wilhelm and Goeben as they break away from that costly naval engagement off Fuerteventura, the only two German ships to escape unscathed. They pose a grave threat to British convoys, the Winston Specials desperately trying to get reinforcements to two embattled islands, Gran Canaria and Singapore. But Kapitan Heinrich will also have a strange encounter in this volume, and one more significant than he realizes.
There’s a lot going on in this volume. First I will have to give you some closure on the loss of our dear friend, Admiral Volsky. I won’t give you a reason for his unexpected demise, other than to say it was his time, his hour, and I think he acquitted himself as any of us might expect. There were future story / plot reasons for this, but I cannot speak of them here. It wasn’t an easy thing to do, but it was necessary. May he rest in peace.
Then, I have three major battles to present here in this volume. First I will take you back to the Pacific to follow General Yamashita’s campaign in Malaya, one of the most remarkable exploits of the war. Then we return to Phase II of the German Operation Condor against the Canary Islands. Finally, I turn Karpov and Kirov lose on the Japanese as he makes yet another unexpected “Knight’s Move” in the North Pacific, the opening operations of his “Plan 7.”
Through all these battles I will weave in the saga of Kaiser Wilhelm and the Goeben, and take you to some very interesting places with that. Some of this came to me in that odd dream, the rest emerged in my research, and it’s going to matter a great deal as the story goes forward.
As always, many thanks for your continued support and interest in this saga, and for all your emails, which I always love to receive. Many times I will take the questions some of you raise in your letters, and then hand them to Fedorov for answers, so stay tuned.
One last note…. At the end of this volume you will find information on a project derived from this saga—the Kirov Series Battle Books. Sometimes the WWII battle action in any given campaign is spread over five or more novels, as with Rommel’s exploits in North Africa. So I thought I would extract all those chapters and then re-edit them into one continuous, uninterrupted narrative of that campaign. For anyone interested, the first of these “Battle Books” will be available soon. For now… It’s Knight to King Bishop Three, and let the game begin! - John Schettler
Part I
A Different Game
“I have seen too many men go down, and I never permit myself to forget that one day, through accident or under the charge of a younger, stronger knight, I too will go down.”
― John Steinbeck
Acts of King Arthur and his Noble Knights
Chapter 1
Admiral Tovey sat at the desk in the wardroom aboard HMS Invincible, still feeling the twinge of pain on his left shoulder where it was swathed in bandages, his arm in a sling. The scent of smoke and fire still hung over the ship like a funeral shroud, the last remnant of the damage it had sustained off Fuerteventura. Yet the physical discomfort he felt was nothing compared to the sorrow that lay on him now. Yes, it had been a hard day for the Royal Navy, a terrible hour, and so much was lost. He sat there, staring at the wrapped bundle before him, all that was left of Admiral Volsky’s effects, all they could find. He knew from the young Ensign that served as his translator, that he was sitting there alive at that moment solely because of the bravery and determination of Admiral Volsky, a man who did not even know how many ways he had stood up to answer the call of arms.
Once they had been foes, set against one another on the stream of time, or so he had been told. He could not remember any of that, though on occasion, a vague reminiscence wou
ld come to him, of an island on the boundary between two seas, where two men once met, and shook hands in faith, instead of flinging monstrous shells at one another, like the one that had finally taken Volsky’s life.
What was that last hour like, that last moment, he wondered? The words of Tennyson echoed through his mind, as love turned its head and spoke to death one day… “This hour is thine: Thou art the shadow of life, and as the tree stands in the sun and shadows all beneath, So in the light of great eternity, Life eminent creates the shade of death; The shadow passeth when the tree shall fall, But I shall reign for ever over all.”
I shall reign forever… The willful boast of love, but nothing ever did, not Emperors, not Kings or Queens, let alone poor lowly Admirals like me, and all the men who stand below me on the ranks. Every Knight has a chink in his armor somewhere, and nothing is invincible, not even my proud ship. One day, a younger and faster sea knight will be her undoing, and that was nearly the case as we jousted this time around. Everything has its hour, and its fated doom. That may as well be my own personal effects there, all nicely wrapped up, the last remains of a lifetime, and everything I’ve ever seen, heard, felt or thought. But it wasn’t me this time, thanks to the man who once wore that coat. The things we leave behind are the smallest part of that life, and measureless are the things no man can touch—mind, heart, soul.
He reached slowly, opening the wrapping paper to find there the bundled fold of Admiral Volsky’s Navy blue jacket, its tattered remnant stained with the char of smoke, and the man’s own blood. A segment of one sleeve cuff was still intact, where the broad stripes of his rank insignia were inlaid with gold thread.
“Good bye, my friend,” he whispered, laying his hand on the jacket, and at that same moment, also laying his hand on the jackets of so many more who had died that day, men of every rank and stripe who had fallen under the shadow in that last terrible hour at sea. Valiant had been lost, and Renown, with Repulse barely escaping to eventually reach the Azores, badly wounded. Then the heart of his formation had come up, King George V, Prince of Wales, and Duke Of York.
The long, deadly battle had been fought while he lay unconscious in the Plot Room behind the shattered bridge of HMS Invincible. The ship was headless, but yet ran on, the rudder lose, eventually seeing it turn to port. Perhaps the ship was driven away by the force of the wind and sea, or perhaps by the hand of fate. All the while her engines were thrumming away at full speed, her guns still training, firing, heedless of all that had happened.
Eventually the ship’s course described a wide turn, until other heads and hands finally took her under control from the auxiliary helm station, and she was steered south, away from the hour where death was stalking that wild sea. Tovey was fallen, Volsky dead, but the fleet fought on, the battleships raging against the dying of the light, for a fighting ship does not go gentle into that good night. King George V had verse to speak in that hour, and her words forked lightning. She put good hits on the Bismarck, answering that ship shell for shell, and the virtues of her better Mark IX fire control table were quite apparent. Captain Patterson was the man of the hour. He was always a gunnery specialist, and fought his ship well.
Time for him to take his oath and join the Honorable Order of the Bath, thought Tovey, our newest Knight in that hallowed Order. The man had a sterling silver record, as long as that prominent nose of his. He had my back in that engagement, and may have even saved the fleet with good old King George V standing to with Duke Of York. Promotion to Vice Admiral would be a good recommendation for that man, and we’ll need his sort in the days ahead. We built those ships well, but alas, Prince of Wales was the wild one who caught the sun in flight that day. A massive 16-inch shell from Hindenburg exploded in her heart, and now I must grieve her loss as well. Some ships were simply fated to die, though Repulse had escaped her appointed hour for the third time now. Prince of Wales would sail no more…
On they fought, the strong arms of the Duke of York holding the line. Bismarck was burned and bloodied, taking 13 hits of various calibers. The rockets came first off Argos Fire, blazing a trail in the morning sky and bringing fiery wrath. Three GB-7s, struck each of the two German battleships, but Bismarck had the worst damage, many fires amidships, three secondary batteries destroyed, and one hit that penetrated so deeply into the ship that the internal fires compromised a boiler room three decks below. Yes, it was those five hits from the bigger 14-inch guns of the British battleships that really caused the trouble. One cut right through that beautiful clipper bow, and the flooding there was quite serious. Down at the bow, with speed cut nearly in half, Bismarck was still afloat and underway when the battle ended, limping off behind Hindenburg.
That ship had also been chastened, also damaged by three hits from those rockets fired by the Argos Fire, and another 14-inch shell from King George V. Yet the Germans must have built that one better. The rocket damage did not seem to compromise operations. She was wounded, but unbowed, turning north into the coming storm and vanishing into the grey rolling clouds with Bismarck following as best it could, a darksome shadow in her wake.
The cruiser Prinz Eugen had also been battered, no real match for the bigger guns on the British ships. It was Invincible that sealed the fate of the German cruiser. Retiring from the field as engineers struggled to regain control, the gunners were still firing, and they laid a nice six round straddle across Prinz Eugen. Two rounds struck home, and one blew right on through to the magazine on her forward turret. The second pierced her belt armor, only 80mm thick at its widest point, and unable to stop those gruesome 16-inch shells. That added uncontrollable flooding to the ship’s fires, which then became so bad that the Germans were forced to abandon ship. British destroyers Jackal and Jaguar would find her and finish the heavy cruiser with four torpedoes.
Eventually the looming shadow of land ahead had forced each side to turn, the Germans north, the British south, and the French following after, their big gun ordnance expended, and no more fire in the belly of the Dragon that had fought the Bengal Tiger that day. They would leave Richelieu behind, the victim of another shell that found a hidden magazine and opened a great yawning gash in her side that could not be filled. The cruiser Dupleix was dead and gone, as was Gloire, along with destroyers Le Fortune and La Palme. The British had traded Renown and the heavy damage on Repulse for Richelieu, and the others had all been lost in the duel with the cruisers of Force C, which had the better of the action that day, and by a good measure.
Coming late to the action, the Toulon group with Jean Bart and Dunkerque exchanged parting fire with King George V and Duke of York, but the threat from the British carrier born aircraft convinced Admiral Gensoul to turn and follow Normandie home. The British retired south, around the narrow tail of Fuerteventura, through the channel between that island and the Gran Canaria, and then up the western side as they reversed course, heading for the Azores. King George V had only eight 14-inch rounds left, and with one last defiant salvo, she put four of them onto the airfield at Tarfia, a last parting shot to end the day.
In the aftermath of it all, the brave pilots came off the decks of Glorious and Furious, and they fought on through to harry the German fleet as it retired, the stogy Swordfish and Albacore torpedo bombers having just enough pluck and skill to get a torpedo into Bismarck’s side. The only German ship that escaped real harm was the speedy battlecruiser Kaiser Wilhelm. It had dashed away, opening the range with her tremendous eight knot speed advantage over the remaining British battleships.
As for Tovey, he made it back to the Azores with only three battleships in any semblance of fighting order. King George V and Duke Of York were still sound, but both ships would need repairs. HMS Invincible would live to fight again one day, the hit to her conning tower being the only significant damage sustained, though Tovey wondered if he would ever command that ship again.
So very many good men were lost in that hour, so many proud crews, fine old ships of the line, names now stricken from the ros
ter that had been there for long decades. All told the Royal Navy had lost six ships: Prince of Wales, Valiant, Renown, and destroyers Kingston, Griffin and Kelly. The damage to Repulse would effectively put her off the active duty rolls for at least six months, and probably a long year. Cruiser Cumberland, fighting alongside the battleships, had also been roughed up enough to send her to the dry docks for three to six months of repair work.
It was a very hard day, thought Tovey. Now by god, what do we have left? We still have Hood, and it’s good that she’s thickened her skin a bit in that last refit, he thought grimly. Anson and Howe will eventually stand in soon for Valiant and Prince of Wales, but reports on those quad 14-inch gun turrets have been less than satisfactory. I shall advocate we upgrade those ships to the new triple 16-inch turrets being designed for the Lion class. Renown is gone, and we may never see Repulse at sea again. She just can’t stand in a fight like this with her armor as it is… as it was… As for Invincible, she proved vulnerable after all, though that hit might have been one in a thousand. That said, they’ll have to completely rebuild her bridge and segments of the conning tower. She’ll be laid up for months.
Standing a watch up to keep an eye on Tirpitz and Scharnhorst up north will be quite daunting now. Tirpitz has moved from Wilhelmshaven to Trondheim, putting it in a good position to get out after our PQ convoys to Murmansk. We shall have to rely on the American Navy to lend a hand, and turn the Denmark Strait and defense of Iceland over to them. I’ll have little to assign to convoy escort duty now, old Ramillies and Resolution being all that’s left at Scapa Flow. Nelson, Warspite and Revenge will have to stay with Cunningham at Alexandria, because we still have the Italians to worry about. Something had to go to the Indian Ocean, so it was Royal Sovereign, now at Freetown waiting to pick up that Winston Special convoy heading for the Pacific.
Knight's Move (Kirov Series Book 21) Page 1