As darkness fell on the 25th of January, the final preparations were being made for the renewed attack, which would begin in the pre-dawn hours of the 26th.
* * *
The Royal Navy battleships had all returned to the Azores escorted by Glorious and Furious, while the longer legged carriers of Force H stood the watch. With 11000 mile sea endurance, Formidable and Victorious hovered off the island of La Palma waiting for the inevitable call to arms, well out of range of German land based attack. As signals intercepts revealed Axis operations again gearing up, they began to keep aircraft on ready alert. Santa Cruz La Palma had just enough fuel in stock to keep the light cruisers of Force C operating, Kenya, Trinidad and Nigeria, along with a bevy of destroyers.
Two other British cruisers, Norfolk and Suffolk, had been detached from Home Fleet and ordered to rush to the aid of Convoy WS-15. Light cruiser Sheffield had been trying to shadow the German raiders when they broke to the south, but the ship was harried by German land based air cover, and eventually forced to break off and make for Freetown to effect minor repairs after several near misses by 500 pound bombs. Every convoy in the Atlantic was put on alert, but it was WS-15 that would draw the short stick this time.
One of her ships, Llangibby Castle, had safely delivered her troops to land, in spite of that U-Boat attack. Another string of three transports had peeled off and steered for the outer Canaries with more reinforcements. The Britannic would deliver 2887 men, along with another 1745 on the Stirling Castle and 1509 on the Arawa. These were the men of the British 7th Brigade, 3rd Infantry Division, three full battalions and the 3rd Battalion of the Reconnaissance Corps, composed of motorcycle troops. It would have been too risky to try and get those ships into the Grand Harbor, and so they landed by night at Santa Cruz La Palma, and at Tenerife. The plan would later involve lighter craft to move them to the Grand Island as needed.
The British had prepared several small landing sites on the west and south coasts of the island. These were mostly isolated coves, small fishing towns, or simply sheltered bays that could receive lighter boats. In the northwest, Puerto Sardinia and Puerto Nieves offered two landing points with decent roads then leading east to La Palma and the Grand Harbor. Puerto de Aldea was in the center of the western coast near San Nicholas, and this site was chosen for supply drops, as roads led north and south, and into the mountainous interior to the east. The south coast had many sites, chiefly the smaller ports at Maspalomas, Puerto Rico and Puerto Blanco, and here the main coastal road led north, passing Gando Bay and the main aerodrome.
The plan was to make these reinforcement landings by night, where the possibility of German air attack was minimized. The thin forces remaining with Force C would be sufficient to cover such landings, as it was not anticipated that the enemy would attempt to deploy naval forces west of the Grand Island. Some discussion was held concerning the ability of Argos Fire to stop the inevitable German parachute landings, but Captain MacRae laid out the grim reality.
“They’ll likely put three or four hundred planes in the air. And I’m sorry to say that we’ve no more than 21 of our longer range Aster-30 missiles. I could stand off about 120 kilometers and use those, but it would only be a pin prick. And anyone’s guess what kind of planes we hit. I’ve better stock on the short range Aster-15s, but that would mean we’d need to be in close to use them, and you know they’ll have warships out there as well. If you want me to risk it, it will be up to her ladyship, and I’m willing.”
“That will not be necessary,” said Tovey. “I was thinking your ship might be better for another assignment.”
“Aye? And what might that be?”
“We have a problem—40,000 troops at sea and those German raiders undoubtedly out there looking for them. If you could move south to support the defense, even if it only meant you were serving as a radar picket, it would be most helpful.”
“Aye… Those lads bound for these islands?”
“Some, but the ports outside of the Grand Harbor can only accommodate a modest reinforcement here. We’ll move in a full brigade, but the rest of that convoy is bound for the Indian Ocean and eventually Singapore and Batavia. There’s a good deal of artillery for the British 18th Division, and a number of AA regiments—ground troops as well.”
“Miss Fairchild having no objection, I can move tonight, but we’ll need fuel as well.”
“The funnies were moved to Madeira for just that reason. You can top off there and be on your way.”
The ‘funnies’ were the collection of fleet replenishment and Roll On - Roll Off ships that had slipped through during the engagement that saw Gromyko’s hidden submarine vanish from the scene. They had the fuel necessary to replenish the Argos Fire, which used a combination of gas turbines and diesel engines to provide power to electric motors that actually drove her screws. Fairchild approved the plan, and the ship was replenished the night of the 25th, just as the German attack on the Grand Island began.
* * *
While smaller in overall scale than the German operation that was once planned for Crete, the advantage of the plan here was the fact that most of the forces involved could be concentrated in one key area chosen for the attack. The British had already identified the most likely landing sites, and they positioned their AA batteries in those areas. They were mostly near the aerodrome at Gando, and that was also the best site for beach landings. In fact, they had landed there when they first took the islands from Spain.
That sector had to be contested, and so the 29th Brigade was posted there, with three battalions around Gando Bay, and three flak batteries concentrated near the airfield. They heard the planes coming, endured some light bombing from the JU-88s, and then the alarm was sounded as the night sky began to fill up with parachutes. Gliders were also reported landing a little inland near the small hamlet of Gordo, and further north near the larger settlement of Telde.
Only two battalions of the 1st Regiment in the 7th Flieger Division would make this initial jump, but the division’s entire 2nd Regiment had arrived after making the long journey by rail to Marrakech, and then by road to the airfields in the south. That would add another four battalions to the attack, and two more would come by assault gliders carrying men of the 22nd Luftland Division. From the sea, the 98th Mountain Regiment would be the second wave, timed to hit the beaches just before dawn.
That night was a chaotic flurry of action along an eight mile segment of the eastern coast of the island. Field phones were ringing every other minute with news of newly spotted parachute landings, sirens wailed, and soon the chatter of machineguns and flak batteries began to punctuate the night.
2nd East Lancashire was the first British ground unit in action at the southernmost end of the attack. They spotted parachute units landing, and caught the gleam of wan light out on the sea where the first units of the mountain regiment were mustering off shore. Further north, the men of 2nd Royal Welsh were manning their positions near the small isthmus that jutted out from the airfield to form the northern shore of Gando Bay. Planes on the airfield were sputtering to life, the pilots having orders to try an harass any seaborne landings as best they could. There were only 9 Spitfires and 24 Hurricanes left there, but they would have to do their best. Even as they rushed to take off, there was already fighting behind them and to the north up the main road, where 1st Royal Scotts Fusiliers was engaging enemy airborne troops.
2nd East Lancashire was able to push two disorganized companies of German parachute troops south away from the airfield, but the Scots Fusiliers found themselves facing enemy on three sides, and decided to concentrate their attack into the small village of Ojos de Garza, just west of the airfield. At the northern end of the assault zone, A-Squadron, Special Services, came down the road from La Palma with ten Marmon Herrington and five Humber armored cars. Their main intention was to see if any German troops were on the main road, and they found it clear until they reached Playa del Hombre, a little bay northwest of Telde on the coast. There the
y ran into three companies of Falschirmjaegers deployed astride the road, and heard fighting coming from Telde itself, where the 2nd South Lancs were now fighting from the cover of the buildings.
Dawn saw the French destroyers hovering closer to the shore, and beginning to pick out targets for bombardment. They deliberately avoided any direct shelling of the airfield, knowing that their aim was to have that base intact for use that very day if the enemy could be cleared. Then came the boom of much larger guns, and the battleship Jean Bart began to drop heavy rounds on the outskirts of La Palma, where German aerial reconnaissance had identified British positions the previous day. It had the British troops of the 29th Brigade wondering where the Royal Navy was, which was just what Tovey himself was wondering that day.
Churchill had taken the news very hard when he learned of the sinking of Prince of Wales and Valiant, not to mention the loss of Renown and the damage put on so many other ships. It was, he would later say, one of the greatest shocks he had in the entire war, and might only be eclipsed by the loss of Singapore, which Montgomery was now struggling to prevent. The Prime Minister said he was glad that no one else had been in the room with him when the telephone call came in with that grim news. With Rodney already gone, Barham, Malaya, Queen Elizabeth all lost, the Former Naval Person was seeing his navy being slowly deconstructed, and he had a mind to send Admiral Tovey a very strongly worded message as to his dissatisfaction.
Tovey had reinforced Force C with two more light cruisers, Dido and Naiad, but he had no intention of sending this force to oppose the battleship Jean Bart. Instead, that force was used to provide cover and AA support for the movement of the newly arrived 7th Brigade from Tenerife. It was decided that the many small ports and coves around Maspalomas in the south would be the best site.
General Alexander suggested it might land on the northwest coast, but that would basically cede the entire southern coast of the island to the Germans, which was now only lightly held by a few Royal Navy Marine battalions. The two small landing sites to the northwest were also deemed insufficient, particularly if the Germans did take the main harbor, forcing the British to retreat west along that northern coast. They would not be able to get off the island easily, and so the decision was made to land the 7th Brigade in the south, accepting the fact that this divided the forces available.
“But it will also force the enemy to deploy on two fronts,” said Brigadier Thomas, and that was the end of the discussion. There was no time for dickering, and the troops would have to be moved under cover of darkness.
Sunrise saw the Germans consolidating their parachute landings, and the arrival of the mountain regiment, landing heavily on the spit of land near Gando airfield. Two battalions focused on one part of the coastal defenses there, pushing through, and by 10:00 they had overrun the airfield. Everything had been concentrated in this one area of the west coast, from Telde in the north, to the tiny fishing port of Aringa in the south. It was simply too much for the single defending brigade there to contain, and now the wisdom of even fighting for that sector was called into question. The battalions of the 29th Brigade were simply overmatched, and only the artillery battery, further inland at El Siguero, remained unengaged. It fired off a few salvoes in protest, then was ordered to withdraw south to join the troops arriving at Maspalomas.
The British were now pinning their hopes on establishing what they would call the ‘Santa Brigida’ defense line in the north, a ridge extending from that inland town to the coast just south of La Palma. There they moved in the troops of Number 1, 6 and 9 Commandos, and the single battalion of 36th Brigade that had escaped intact from Fuerteventura, the 8th Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders. These forces moved up like a row of steady pawns, digging into the rugged terrain and setting up mortar and machinegun positions.
The problem the British faced was the fact that the enemy could always use their parachute forces to leap over that defensive line, like a bold Knight’s move invading the enemy camp. There was ample open ground to the west of the main harbor that would afford the Germans good landing zones. Thus far, no forces had been spotted there, but the British did not know exactly how many troops the enemy had at their disposal. As soon as this became more clear, they had one more piece to develop, a White Knight of their own to leap into the fray from Madeira Island. There was the British 2nd Parachute Battalion under Colonel John Frost, now reinforced by the arrival of the rest of Parachute Regiment. As yet it had no transport planes to move it by air, but the RAF promised they would have then at Madeira that night.
By day’s end, the strong enemy opening was played out, and the Germans were consolidating their landing in good order. Now it was time for the middle game.
Chapter 9
As dusk fell, Convoy WS-15 dispersed in three directions, grateful that heavy cloud cover was now to be their friend in that effort. The time bought by Ascania was invaluable, and the destroyer Boreas added a thick smoke screen to the already murky picture the gunners were facing. Unfortunately, the Captain on Pardo made a steering error, when he made a wide turn to get away from the burning Autolycus off his port side. It took him into the smoke screen, where he became disoriented as to where the enemy was. Ordering another 30 point turn, he thought he would get his ship safely away, but emerged from the screen dangerously close to Kaiser Wilhelm.
“Look there,” said Jung, pointing off their starboard side.
“The secondary batteries will have a good time with it,” said Heinrich. He had ordered Schirmer to cease fire with the ships main batteries to conserve ammunition on what promised to be a very long cruise. Something in him felt the pursuit of merchant shipping was a pedestrian task, but there was Pardo, and in another ten minutes, his gunners had the ship on fire, her sides pierced by numerous 5.9 inch gun hits, and listing badly.
Strathmore, where the convoy Commodore kept his flag, made a quick turn, leading Staffordshire and the Empire Woodlark off at their best speed. While Pardo carried mostly artillery stores, there were nearly 8000 men on those three ships. The Commodore’s ship was the prize, at 23,428 tons, and Staffordshire at 10,683 tons was right behind her. Those two ships vanished into the heavy roll of low sea fog, but the string of bad luck that had plagued the Empire Woodlark remained unbroken.
The ship was already living out its fourth life. It had been christened as the cargo liner Congress in 1913, operating off the US Pacific coast until it caught fire off Crescent City and was burned to a blackened hulk. The salvagers towed it to Seattle, spent years piecing it back together, and then sold it off to the China Mail Steamship Company, where it became the Nanking on runs between the US West coast and Shanghai. The company went bankrupt in 1922, and the ship was seized and sold off to the Pacific Steamship Company in Seattle to start its third life as Emma Alexander. Eventually the Ministry of Works and Transport in the UK picked up the ship for conversion to a troopship, and the Empire Woodlark was born.
Schirmer’s gunners would now put an end to the ship’s miserable life, and put 1300 men in the water with her. As the death of ships go, it was perhaps a more gallant ending than the one ordained for her in Fedorov’s history, leaking like a sieve and scuttled while carrying old chemical rounds to the bottom of the sea in 1946.
Every ship had a life line, and a story to tell of the seas it traveled, the men and cargo that rode it’s metal back in all those years. Empire Woodlark was like so many others that would die in this war, gutted by U-Boats, bombed like Autolycus, or caught as these ships had been by a raider at sea. Heinrich credited Autolycus to the Goeben and Hans Rudel, putting only three more rounds in the ship to finish it off. He then added Pardo, Ascania and the Empire Woodlark to extend his own list of kills. He had now sunk seven vessels totaling just over 46,000 tons, and was thinking to loiter here to continue the hunt, coming about and heading south for another sweep.
The visibility closed to under 2000 meters, and Goeben had all her planes back, somewhere off to the south. It was then that Kapitan Falkenrath s
ignaled trouble ahead. He had found an open patch of sea, and was scanning the low rolling clouds to the south when the shadow of a very large warship suddenly broke through into the clear zone. It was HMS Royal Sovereign, two days out of Freetown and out looking for WS-15 to render assistance. The Goeben made a quick 30 point turn and then put on full speed, slipping into the grey mist and fog before half the crewmen on Royal Sovereign even got to their battle stations. A coded signal was flashed to Kapitan Heinrich, which he received with some consternation.
“Trouble sir?” His young Executive Officer was curious when he saw Heinrich take the message, a squall of concern evident on his handsome face.
“A British battleship dead ahead,” said Heinrich. “It almost caught the Goeben, but they have slipped away, as we must now.”
“You will not fight it, Kapitan?”
“A battleship? They out gun us eight to six, and have the armor to stand in a close range fight, while we do not. If I was out at 20,000 yards with good visibility, I might put Schirmer’s guns to the test, but not here, not in these conditions, and not with orders from the Grand Admiral of the Fleet to avoid combat with any heavy British ships above our class. Come fifteen points to starboard and ahead two thirds. We’ve taken a good bite out of this convoy, and sent the rest packing. Now we make our rendezvous with one of Stiller’s supply ships, the Ermland.”
Knight's Move (Kirov Series Book 21) Page 8