He looked at the message, frowning. “Damn,” he breathed. “Suffolk’s gone down. The ship will come to action stations. This is not a drill. Run up number two, Mister Laurence, and ready all stations for surface action. This time they may load the guns.”
“Aye sir,” said Laurence. “Number two flag to halyard, and ready on all battle stations.”
The bells clanged, and the tramp of feet was swift and heavy on the decks, for this was the third time in the last hour Sanford had sounded the alarm.
“Come to 160,” said the Captain. “Ahead two thirds.”
* * *
It was the high watch on the mainmast of Kaiser Wilhelm that made the first sighting, a little after15:00 on the 26th of February. Kapitan Heinrich was on the bridge with his young first officer Deter Jung, and he was staring at the low grey clouds hovering just above his horizon to the north and east. They had the contact on radar twenty minutes earlier, and had turned fifteen points to starboard, intending to avoid any other enemy shipping. But this contact soon altered course to intercept, and the angle was such that they were going to do so if they knew where the Germans were.
“They must have us on radar as well,” he said, curious. A pair of ships like this would usually be two British cruisers. They would certainly not be merchant ships, not at the speed the contact was making, at least 24 knots, and in rising seas. Goeben had been taking on fuel from Ermland, and wasn’t flying anything with the winds up over 30 knots, and the fast running outliers of the storm front sending rain squalls at them every ten minutes. It had been a dangerous hookup, with perilous sea keeping, but the urgency of the moment compelled them to risk it. Then, in the middle of that operation, radar reported contacts at 27,000 meters.
“The British will not let us have dinner in peace,” he said to Jung. “Now, who is this come knocking at the door?”
The sun would set at 17:40, and would add welcome darkness to the gloom already hanging over the scene. He had ordered the replenishment operation aborted, then sent Ermland due west on a heading of 270, while he led Goeben on a course of 70 degrees northeast. That was the last they would see of Ermland, and they were still about 400 miles from German air cover on the mainland, if anything would be flying. Then the watchman called out the sighting, and the tension ratcheted up yet another notch.
Heinrich studied the distant silhouettes off his port quarter for some time at 18,000 meters as the ship came to battle stations. They were already well within the range of his guns, but were slipping in and out of squall lines, vanishing for minutes on end, before running into the clear. They could attempt to fire by radar, but he elected not to do so, thinking to let the silence and gathering darkness be his cloak. The Goeben was ordered to come abreast on his starboard side, just in case this was a ship deploying naval rockets. The better armor on Kaiser Wilhelm would serve to shield the light carrier, and also mask its presence, its silhouette screened off by the larger and more prominent lines of the battlecruiser.
Two more British cruisers, he thought sullenly. “Well, they have to know what we did to the others. Yet there they are, bold as bulls, and certainly maintaining a good angle to intercept. I would have to turn beyond 90 degrees now to break off, and that would put me on a heading for Dakar. Those are unfriendly waters. There are a lot of British planes operating from that base. It is obvious they’ve plotted our course, and they are definitely trying to head us off. Yet I wonder how pushy these two will get. Schirmer’s guns are already well trained. One peep out of them and I’ll give the order to fire.
Then he stopped, suddenly alarmed by what he was seeing now that the range closed inside 16,000 meters. He was lucky to have any sighting at all, but there they were, turning to present a prominent broadside silhouette—two identical ships. The intake of his breath came fast as he adjusted the focus on his field glasses. Those were not British cruisers. He had seen that silhouette before, the squat forecastle and conning section, with two stacks amidships, and three turrets. These were not cruisers….
The County class ships like Kent all had three stacks and four gun turrets. London class had two stacks, but also four turrets. This had to be something more, and with a sinking feeling he now thought he was looking at a pair of British battleships of the King George V class. Three were said to be operating in the Canary Islands, and were present at the battle of Fuerteventura. Two remained after that action.
“Battleships,” he breathed, cursing his bad luck. “A pair of King George V class battleships…” Heinrich took a deep breath. “Come to zero-eight-zero and increase to thirty knots. Signal Goeben to match course and speed. We will see if we can break off to the east.”
The thought that he was now facing twenty 14-inch guns to only six 15-inch on Kaiser Wilhelm and six 11-inch on the Goeben was cause for considerable discretion here. This time the British were out for their pound of flesh. The Kapitan was wrong in his assessment, though he did not know that. He was actually looking at Captain Sandy Sanford and his two new Knight class heavy cruisers, and that misapprehension would now color the decisions made by the Germans here with a heavy wash of grey.
There came a distant flash from the forward segment of both ships, and he held his breath. It was likely the B turret, being fired to judge the initial range plot before the larger quad turrets on those ships joined in. If he was correct, he should see shellfall in two separate pairs here soon, and seconds later, that was what happened. He was out on the weather deck off the main bridge, seeing the heavy gun barrels turning to re-train as the ship turned. Kaiser Wilhelm was looking over its shoulder, and now it was time he at least gave those distant foes a fair warning.
“Schirmer,” he yelled. “You may begin at your discretion.”
“Aye sir,” the Gunnery officer called from his post on the high primary gun director, sitting prominently on the forecastle. He elected to open with his aft turret, which had a good angle of fire on the enemy contacts, yet even Schirmer knew they had no business in this fight if these were indeed two British battleships. In fact, they had been given direct orders by Admiral Raeder to avoid such engagements, and now, with the precious cargo they carried, the situation was even more perilous.
Heinrich watched the Goeben accelerate to keep abreast, still screened by the bigger ship. He cast a wary glance at the sky, dreading to see the contrails of naval rockets there, but none came. Instead, he saw only the high shellfall splash of heavy rounds, more familiar but no less deadly.
It was going to come down to speed, he thought. We can both make 36 knots if we need to, though that will burn up all that extra fuel we managed to take on from Ermland, and we are still a thousand miles from Casablanca. These battleships are reported to top out at no more than 28 knots, so let us ease ahead here.
“Helm, 30 knots, and signal Goeben to match speed.”
“Aye sir, 30 knots.”
The thrum of the ships turbines was reassuring, the sharp bow easily parting the heavy seas in spite of the wind. Those seas erupted again, just off his port bow as a series of four shells fell in a long line. The British were finding the range, and Schirmer answered with both forward turrets.
“Range to targets?” the Kapitan asked.
“Range 17,200 meters…. 17,000….”
“Are you certain? The range is closing?”
“My optics are very good,” Schirmer called down.
The boom of the aft turret interrupted them, but Heinrich was suddenly concerned. They should be gradually easing away from the enemy, but they were closing. Something was wrong here. Those battleships should not be able to run like this, but if it was a foot race they wanted, he would show them what speed was.
“Helmsman, all ahead full.”
“Ahead full sir!”
Executive Officer Jung was handling signals from the Flag Bridge for Goeben to match speed. They were going to run all out, attempting to break away. As the ships accelerated, the range stabilized at around 16,600 meters, then slowly increased, ope
ning slightly by 200 meters every few minutes.
Heinrich frowned when he slowly realized the enemy was hanging on, stubbornly keeping pace, and yet another series of four heavy shells whistled overhead, falling very near the bow. They nearly had a straddle, and they were firing very quickly. Those cannot be King George V class battleships. We should have broken off easily. The range should be opening much faster, but still they hang on off our port side, though they do not have the angle to nose ahead of us now. This is very odd. Could these just be a pair of heavy cruisers as before. I have seen that 8-inch shellfall many times, but this looks like something much larger.
It was only then that the possibility entered his mind that these could be another ship class. He had heard the British were building bigger cruisers. Could these ships be the result of that effort? He scanned the near horizon, grateful to see a low roll of cloud and mist ahead.
“Come right five degrees,”
“Aye sir, right five degrees.”
I do not have the time to find out what is chasing us now, thought Heinrich. Those low clouds will be our friends, and the night. But these ships have radar…. That thought set a pall of grey on his own brow. It was going to be a very long night if this enemy kept on his heels. Our edge in speed is very small, so I am certain these are not enemy battleships, and both their battlecruisers were sunk or damaged at Fuerteventura.
Now a messenger ran in with a decoded lamp signal from the Goeben. Heinrich took it, removing his gloves as he read it. Kapitan Falkenrath was suggesting they separate….
He thought for a moment on that. The Goeben would be good in a chase with both her 11-inch turrets mounted on the bow. But in a situation like this, if the enemy is attempting to close on her stern, she had little more than a few secondary batteries to bother them. I can at lease use my aft Caesar turret to keep them honest. But what if we do separate, and the enemy chooses to pursue the Goeben? That would be very bad for Falkenrath without our guns in the equation. Yet splitting up also forces the enemy to make a similar choice, while also increasing the odds that at least one of our two ships will reach a friendly port.
He decided.
“Leutnant Jung, signal Goeben to be ready to fall off to starboard on our signal. They should continue east for at least twenty minutes at their best practical speed before coming back on this course. Once acknowledged, Kaiser Wilhelm will execute a 30 point turn to port, and we will engage the enemy to cover the Goeben’s withdrawal. Our intention will be to try and engage and hold the British on our course track, giving the Goeben a clear shot at breaking away. Yet we will not do this until we have pulled ahead, beyond visual range. Then it will be up to the radar, and we will see how good their equipment is relative to ours. In time, we should be able to edge away.”
Yes, he thought, but how much fuel will we burn before that happens? We will both have to reduce speed considerably, and likely within the hour.
He looked nervously at the ship’s chronometer, seeing it was a little after 17:00. In another 40 minutes the sun will be down, but before that happens, it may fall through the low cloud deck and illuminate the entire scene for a few moments. They’ll be silhouetted to the north and west, we’ll be running into shadow and night. That is when we make our move, a Knight’s move, forking off in separate directions to run for the clear.
That moment was soon upon them, a blood red smear of fiery sky off their port side. The range had increased to 24,000 meters, and both sides no longer had a good visual sighting, then Kaiser Wilhelm winked goodbye to the Goeben, wishing them good luck as they turned. It was Heinrich’s intention to stand and fight a brief action here, as his fuel situation was just a little better than that of the Goeben. The order was given and the big ship turned, the sea a mad thing at the bow, foredeck awash with the froth of the rising storm.
They came round, the radar man calling off the diminishing range now, his voice the only human sound breaking the strained tension on the bridge. It was then that the Kapitan saw the enemy ships again, low and dark behind the brilliant fire of the setting sun. The ship shuddered with the concussion of those 15-inch guns, a warning and challenge fired in wrathful anger.
The flash of returning fire was barely discernible, but the sound of the rounds coming in was icy cold on the wind. They fell short, but with good bearing, and now Kaiser Wilhelm answered for the first time with a full broadside, a rage of fire and smoke broiling out from the ship. Looking over his shoulder, Heinrich could no longer see the Goeben in the thickening mist ahead.
God go with you, he breathed. I will try to thumb the British in the eye here, and keep them off your trail as best I can. To do so, I will have to fight, but that is what this ship was built for. Now let us see if they really want to joust with me.
“Mister Jung. Fifteen points to starboard. Get to work Schirmer. Get your hits while you can!”
It was going to work. The enemy was going to answer their challenge and step boldly after them into the ring. But they were still a very long way from safe waters, and the flight of the Goeben had only just begun.
The Saga Continues…
Kirov Saga: Turning Point
With diminishing fuel, the Germans go their separate ways into a harrowing sea chase that could change the entire course of the war and darken the entire world if the British Knights should fail. For deep in the underground concrete bunkers of Peenemünde, a brilliant young aerospace engineer is waiting breathlessly on the outcome—Wernher Magnus Maximilian, Freiherr von Braun….
Meanwhile, the belated Soviet counteroffensive is finally launched in a desperate attempt to save Sergei Kirov’s Soviet Union from collapsing in the cold winter of early 1942. In the far east, Vladimir Karpov realizes the peril that he must now face as Admiral Kurita leads a strong battlegroup out to find and challenge the mythical sea demon that has been ravaging their fleet—Mizuchi.
With the threat to Singapore checked, the British now look to the defense of Java, and Commodore Christopher Wells aboard HMS Formidable will join the new Far East Fleet in an effort to challenge Japanese sea power and hold the enemy at bay.
In the Western Desert, the Allies now plan a final offensive aimed at defeating Rommel once and for all, but new shipments of the fearsome Löwe heavy tanks have reached Benghazi and Tripoli. Now the decision must finally be made—should they commit the overwhelming force of Kinlan’s 7th Armored Brigade, or continue to hold it in reserve until the Allies can begin the long road to relieve the British in Egypt with a very different look at the battle that was once called Operation Torch?
Coming Soon…
Kirov Series: Battle Book I
War in the West
Gibraltar, Malta & the War in North Africa
Jun 1940 ~ Jun 1941
As fans of John Schettler’s Kirov Series already know, the author is presenting a detailed alternate history of WWII, with the course of events strongly influenced by the presence of the battlecruiser Kirov, and other war fighting forces from the year 2021, which have been displaced to the cauldron of WWII.
Now, in response to reader requests, we are presenting a series of “Battle Books” for all the major campaigns featured in Kirov Series. Often times the action depicting these battles is spread over four, five or more volumes of the series. Here we will extract all that exciting battle action from the many volumes, gathering all the disparate story threads pertaining just to that campaign, and presenting it as one continuous file, reviewed and edited by the series author. In effect, it’s just the battles please, nothing more.
This first volume will present the great action presented for the Western Theater, starting with the dramatic and unexpected German attack on Gibraltar in Operation Felix. The alternate history ‘point of departure’ is presented in a brief prelude. The story then moves to the Western Desert for O’Connor’s Raid and the battle of Beda Fomm, followed immediately by the coming of Erwin Rommel and his stunning first counteroffensive launched from Mersa Brega, Operation Sonnenblum
e. The fall of Malta is covered and, as the arrival of Brigadier Kinlan’s 7th Brigade is so vital to the understanding of the story that follows, segments of that are presented as a prelude to Rommel’s fateful alternate history encounter at the Battle of Bir El Khamsa. Soon the Desert Fox begins to rethink his tactics while awaiting strong reserves promised by Hitler.
Yes, we loved Kirov, the characters, and all the intrigue surrounding Ilanskiy and time travel, but the battle books are presented for the hard core WWII aficionado who is primarily interested in the history, and how it is changed and altered over the course of the war. As such, they will focus mainly on the historical characters and the campaigns and battles they waged in this ongoing alternate history of WWII.
Battle Book II will present the action in the Middle East, with the British Operation Scimitar, German Operation Anvil, and the intervention in Iraq that led Fedorov and his Marines to the famous ruins of Palmyra. Then it is back to the desert again, as Rommel faces down the British Operation Crusader. After that we will present this ongoing desert campaign through 1942 and beyond, (after John writes all that!), but for now, Battle Book I, War in the West, covers all the exciting battles from June of 1940 through June of 1941, the first year when Britain faced the might of Germany alone. It’s all here, extracted from scenes presented over seven Kirov Series novels, and concentrated in one continuous, uninterrupted narrative.
The Battle Books Series will do the same thing for all the fighting on the Eastern Front, covering all the material for Operation Barbarossa, the Battle at Mtsensk, Operation Typhoon, the fighting at Tula and Serpukhov, the dramatic Fall of Moscow and the desperate Russian Winter Counteroffensive. Later, after the series takes us deeper into the Pacific, we’ll create a battle book for all that action too. If you are a WWII history buff, you will find here the concentrated juice of all the great WWII action presented in the amazing Kirov Series.
Knight's Move (Kirov Series Book 21) Page 31