by Griff Hosker
The Baltic January 1919
Chapter 5
I did not see the Rear Admiral before he left but I was summoned, two days later, to the new flagship, H.M.S. Caledon. I was taken directly to meet my new commander. Rear Admiral Cowan was not a tall man but he had one of the sharpest minds I ever encountered. His nickname was Tich and he was like a terrier. He almost pounced upon me when I was brought to his quarters, “You are the fellow who shot the saboteurs eh?”
“Yes sir. They were trying to destroy my kite!”
“Good man. Now Mr. Churchill had a long chat with me before I left. Came north especially to see me. He spoke highly of you. He made it quite clear to me that we have to destroy this Bolshevik aerial threat as soon as possible. That means operating in winter.”
He stared up at me to watch my reaction, “I know sir. It can be done. Do you mind?” I gestured towards the map on the wall.
“Go ahead.”
“We do not need to put the fleet in danger.” I pointed to a fort which lay to the north of Kronstadt. “This is Fort Totleben. If you could take the fleet to the north of it, outside the range of its guns, then we could fly to Peterhof and destroy the aeroplanes. We would have to fly over their forts but their guns are designed to stop ships and not aeroplanes. We could use the forts as guidance to get back to the fleet.”
“That seems a damned good idea. Why didn’t Rear Admiral Alexander-Sinclair use it?”
“I think sir, without speaking out of turn, that the Count’s attitude annoyed him. Have you met the Count yet, sir?”
“Not yet but Captain Parr seems to find him annoying too.”
“Yes sir, and one of those saboteurs I shot was one of his bodyguards.”
“Was he now? I shall allow you to tell him that news when we see him. His reaction will be interesting. You think it can be done?”
“Yes sir.”
“So, we wait for a hole in the weather?”
“Yes sir. I intend to fly the route alone first to scout it out.”
“Risky, what?”
“Riskier to take the whole flight in. Don’t worry, sir, I will risk neither the aeroplane nor my life. I will keep high. We now know they know about the Camel. If they see just one aeroplane, then they won’t be worried.”
“You know your own business best. It seems damned risky to me in these icy seas. I shall see my captains and tell them what we intend and I will sail east to be ready when the weather breaks.”
Four days later and the navigator assured us that the conditions for the next twenty-four hours would be good. We were already on station some twenty miles north of Fort Totleben. Petty Officer Banks and Sergeant Hepplewhite had gone over my bus to ensure that she was perfect. They had rigged a cover for the Vickers. I would just have to undo two buckles and flip it to the side when I wished to use it. Having had to change a Lewis magazine while flying before, this was no trouble. It would mean that we could reuse it. I made sure the camera was secure and then nodded for the propeller to be spun. The clouds were high as I took off and banked to begin my climb to ten thousand feet.
I saw Setrorestsk in Bolshevik Russia to the east. I headed directly over Fort Totleben. They had no weapons which could fire at me. I then headed due south. My plan was to fly over the middle fort of the seven which protected Petrograd from attack. By heading south from there I would reach the coast and Peterhof. I was glad that I had my flying coat, helmet, flying boots and fur lined gloves for it was freezing. I kept rubbing my nose and my cheeks. When I could I put my two hands to my mouth and blew. The warm air helped. I had a Dewar Flask with soup and I took that at regular intervals.
The weather did not play ball. My intention had been to take a photograph or two from ten thousand feet and then head home. The cloud cover began to drop as I passed a mile or two to the east of Kronstadt. I was forced to descend with the clouds. It meant I would be flying over the airfield at five thousand feet. The photographs would be better but they had guns which could reach me.
When I reached the coast, I dropped into the clouds. I was, by my reckoning, ten miles west of the town and the airfield. After five minutes, I dropped from the clouds and headed east. After a few minutes on that course, I saw the town. I readied the camera. I did not intend to take a lot of photographs. A couple would have to do. The airfield would be outside the town in an open area. I peered through the tiny windscreen. I saw the windsock. It was to the south of the town. I corrected my course and readied the camera. I saw that they had some of the aeroplanes covered with canvas but they had cleared part of the field and there were aeroplanes lined up. They looked ready to take off. I clicked the camera twice and circled. I took one more and then I saw three aeroplanes taking off. They were trying to take me. I climbed and banked.
The Bolshevik pilots did not know the capabilities of the Sopwith Camel. I had a good rate of climb and a superior ceiling than all but one of the German aeroplanes. I began a slow ascent to eighteen thousand. There I would be hidden by the clouds. I would be flying on compass bearings but I would drop again after thirty minutes and take a bearing from the forts. To a new pilot flying in clouds was a frightening experience. I was confident that I would not run into any other aeroplanes and so I was safe for I was hidden. I checked my mirror and saw just clouds.
After thirty minutes, I descended. I was above the line of forts. I counted one to my right and five to my left with one below me, hidden by my fuselage. I was too far east and so I adjusted my bearing. I dropped lower to pass over Fort Totleben. By the time I had passed, I was at five hundred feet, and I saw the smoke from the flotilla. I had enough fuel left to circle a couple of times if I wished. I saw Vindictive as she turned to take me. My landing was a good one. I had been advised by Peter Rogers to trim the engine to just above stalling. It worked.
I stepped out and then retrieved the camera. I handed it to Sub Lieutenant Nash who would be responsible for developing the photographs. My pilots crowded around me too. I waved them off. “Go to the operations room and I will join you there. Get a brew on eh? It is as cold as up there.”
As much as they wanted to speak with me I knew that my mechanics wanted my attention too. “Well sir?”
“Handled beautifully, Sergeant. I didn’t get a chance to try out the guns but I am guessing the blanket worked.”
Bert nodded, happy that he not been found at fault. “You look fairly cold, sir.”
“I am. The forecast was not a hundred percent right. Cloud cover dropped to five thousand feet. When you top up the fuel let me know how much I had left. Next time we go we will be fighting and that burns up fuel at a greater rate. I need to know when we have to break off.”
“Right sir.”
As I passed Petty Officer Banks I said, “We will need bombs for the Strutters, Petty Officer Banks. They have hangars and workshops. We might as well do some serious damage. I only intend one flight if I can help it.”
“I will sort it sir. Go and get a warm. You look fair nithered!”
“I am Chief, I am!”
The three pilots and their gunners were waiting for me in the operations room. I took off my flying jacket and gloves and grasped the hot tea Rogers had poured for me. “Thanks Peter.” After I had finished the tea I held my cup out for another. I began to speak as he poured it. “The forts the Bolsheviks are using make fantastic way points. We use them to navigate. The airfield is to the south of Peterhof. I will wait until I get the photographs from Mr. Nash to confirm but it looked to me as though they had more aeroplanes than we thought. They were also damned quick to get them in the air.”
“When do we go, sir?”
I smiled at Harry Greaves’ enthusiasm and impatience. “Basically, Harry, as soon as there is an eight-hour window, we go. You will be carrying bombs. That will slow you down but we will drop them as soon as we arrive.”
“Sir, we haven’t practised much with them.”
“It doesn’t matter Bob. You have all dropped bombs before. It is a very big target and I
don’t think they have defences set up to repel aeroplanes. So long as we spread them out then we should hurt them. Of course, my visit may have made them review their defence. In my experience, it takes practice to become skilful enough to bring down an aeroplane. Certainly, the soldiers we had defending our airfields took months to become proficient. If you are low and fast, then you will be gone before they have you in their sights.”
“You make it sound easy, sir.”
“Anything but, Charlton, anything but. You gunners might want to take a couple of Mills Bombs with you. Even an air burst can cause damage.”
The door opened and Sub Lieutenant Nash appeared with the photographs, still dripping. “I have them sir!” They were still wet.
“Put them on the board and we can all see them.”
I was the one who had studied aerial photographs the most and I sympathised with the other seven who struggled to make out what they were seeing. I helped them by using the stem of my pipe to point them out. “This is a Fokker Triplane and this is an Albatros. They were taking off to try to catch me. These two have the best pilots. They were away and rolling as I came in. You can see other machines ready to take off but look here and here.” I pointed to canvas covered lumps. “You can just make out the wings. There are eight aeroplanes here… Gentlemen, they have more aeroplanes than we thought.”
I allowed that to sink in. “Does that mean it can’t be done then, sir?”
“Oh, no, it can be done. It just means that we need to catch them on the ground and destroy as many of them there where they will be sitting ducks.”
“And how do we do that, sir?”
“When we are five miles out we drop to four hundred feet and come in low. We make it hard to see us. We fly in line astern. They might think it is just me again. As soon as we being our attack we adopt our normal foundation. Your bombs should be able to do the maximum damage.” Silence filled the room. They were all adjusting to the new plan. “Look chaps, you can do this. If they have acquired more aeroplanes, then that means they are an even bigger threat and the longer we leave the attack then the better their pilots will become. Now go and check your kites. Have a word with your mechanics. Everything needs to be perfect. I am not certain when we will fly but we must be ready. Early nights and lay off the booze, eh? When we return then we will celebrate.”
“Yes sir.”
They trooped out leaving Sub Lieutenant Nash and myself alone. “Sir, the Captain said that the Admiral wants Kronstadt photographing too. He wants to know where the Bolshevik fleet is.”
“But not before the Peterhof raid?”
“Oh no, sir. And he also said that the Count and Mr. Rees are on their way over to the port to meet with us. As soon as the aeroplanes are recovered we are to return there. Some sort of conference I believe, sir.”
“Right.”
The weather, however, was against us. The navigator told us that a front was moving west and we had been ordered back into port. It was frustrating and disappointing. We had been ready to go and we had been prepared. Now we headed back to port and that meant a meeting with the Count. We had only been in port for a couple of hours when Sub Lieutenant Nash and myself were summoned to the Captain’s cabin. “The Rear Admiral wants you two aboard the flagship. The Count and Mr. Rees are aboard.”
I nodded, “It was inevitable I suppose. I wonder how the Rear Admiral will handle the saboteur?”
“Our new commander has a sharp mind, Squadron Leader. And, I think, he has more guile than Alexander-Sinclair. He was chosen for this operation.”
“How is the war against the Bolsheviks going, sir?”
“Estonia appears to be our only success. I believe that they are thinking of sending more of your chaps, to the Dvina. Murmansk and the north around Archangelsk is frozen solid and no one is moving.”
“At least no one is dying, sir.”
“They are though, Squadron Leader. The cold is a killer up there. We are lucky that the Baltic is being so kind to us this winter.”
Sub Lieutenant Nash asked, “Why am I to go sir? I am flattered but I am a Subbie.”
“I told you, the Rear Admiral is a clever man. You keep your ears and eyes open. You are a Sub-Lieutenant and no one will notice you. They will have their eyes on the Squadron Leader and the Rear Admiral. Keep quiet and watch.”
“Yes sir!”
Our anchorage meant that the Sub Lieutenant and myself reached the flagship first. We joined the Rear Admiral. “The Count has requested this meeting. I am anxious to discover if the Count had anything to do with the sabotage.” He turned to Sub Lieutenant Nash. “I believe you saw the Count’s bodyguards too, Mr. Nash.”
“Er yes sir.”
“Well I would like to engage in a little deception if you are up to it.”
“Of course, sir but I am not certain how good I will be.”
“Oh, you should be able to pull this off. When the Count arrives, there will be the normal chit chat. I would like you to ask him, politely of course, if he knew his bodyguard had tried to sabotage the Camel.”
“Alexei?”
“That’s right. I, of course, as your commanding officer will be outraged and I will dismiss you from the room with promises of dire punishments to follow.”
I saw then that this sailor had a sharp brain. The young officer nodded and asked, “But why sir? Why not just ask him outright?”
“I will confide in you, Mr. Nash, for your captain says he has high hopes for you. Like my predecessor, your captain and the Squadron Leader here, I do not trust this Count. I do not know what game he is playing but I do not like it. Unfortunately, I am under orders to cooperate. You will learn, Mr. Nash, if you stay in the service, that a good officer always obeys orders no matter how distasteful they may be. I will apologise for your conduct and then ask politely, as you had brought it up, if he knew.”
“Yes sir, but I still don’t see what would be gained by the Count sabotaging our aircraft. He wants us to destroy the Bolsheviks.”
The Admiral lit his pipe, “Does he? I have read the reports and it is General Yudenich who has made all the gains. The Count was many miles from the front and only arrived when Estonia had been liberated. It is General Yudenich who is planning an attack on Petrograd. It is his men who would suffer if the Bolshevik aeroplanes were not destroyed. The Russians are a funny people. They have warlords and princes. They have hidden plots, plans and alliances. I do not want our people to suffer because they are caught up in such a plot.” He poured the three of us a gin and said, “So young fellow, play your part and receive a severe tongue lashing. It will do your career no harm whatsoever. The launch will be waiting to take you back to the Vindictive.”
“Sir. I shall do my best.”
The Rear Admiral looked at his watch. “They are late. I suspect it is part of the Count’s plan. He asks for a meeting and then keeps us waiting.” He sipped his gin. “When you flew over the Bolsheviks, did you see their fleet?”
“Yes sir. They are protected by forts. If we had bombers, and I mean a lot of bombers, then we might be able to do something but our three Strutters could do nothing.”
“Let us assume that you destroy the aeroplanes then the threat to General Yudenich will be the Bolshevik fleet. My little cruisers cannot harm them. We need something else. I have a Lieutenant Agar who is arriving in the next week. He is coming from Captain Cummins, Intelligence. The Captain has a plan. It is some ludicrous idea to use launches to destroy the battleships. Quite preposterous, of course, but you never know. Apparently our Mr. Churchill thinks the plan might work.” He chuckled, “Quite the planner and plotter is Mr. Churchill. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had some Russian blood in him.”
A runner arrived at the door. “Captain’s compliments and your guests have arrived sir.”
“Thank you, Jenkins.” As the runner disappeared the Admiral said, “Let us see what he makes of the fact that I have ordered his bodyguards to be detained at the gangway.”
The Count, of course, entered first. I saw that he now had even more medals. Rear Admiral Cowan gave a half bow, “Delighted to meet you, Count Fydorervich. I am Rear Admiral Cowan. I believe you know Squadron Leader Harsker and his aide, Lieutenant Nash?”
“Yes, yes. Why do you have to moor so far from shore? I am frozen and the journey was most unpleasant.” I saw Mr. Rees give the slightest of shakes with his head. I saw that Vladimir was still with him.
“Security, Count.”
“And my bodyguards were not allowed to accompany me below decks!”
“You are safe on one of His Majesty’s ships I can assure you.”
He gave the briefest of glances to Sub Lieutenant Nash who said, “Sir, did you know that Alexei, one of your bodyguards, tried to blow up the Squadron Leader’s aeroplane?”
The Rear Admiral should have been an actor. He rounded on the young officer and barked at him, “Sub Lieutenant Nash! Do not be impertinent. Count, forgive him. Take yourself back to the Vindictive and tell Captain Parr that you are to be confined to your quarters until I can deal with you!”
“Yes sir. Sorry sir. Sorry Count!” He was flushed and upset as he left. I studied the Count. For the first time since I had known him I saw the mask slip. He looked discomfited. Was that because he knew nothing about it? Or was it something else?
He regained his composure. “Alexei left my service soon after your flotilla left Reval. I have had his family punished. You say he tried to sabotage your aeroplane, Squadron Leader?”
“I am afraid he did. He and another fellow I did not recognise.”
“What happened to them? Did they manage to damage your aeroplane?”
“I shot them both. They are dead and, no, my aeroplane is unharmed. In fact, I flew the other day, to Peterhof. So, we are still able to function.”
He should have been delighted. If he had been innocent, then he would have immediately reacted. As it was I saw the information sinking in as he processed it. Finally, he broke into a smile, “Well done, Squadron Leader! That is good news! When do you attack?”