Tidal Effects (Gray Tide In The East Book 2)

by Andrew J. Heller

  From Martinique, the Germans would be in a position to interdict any shipping moving through the Caribbean, including traffic to and from the eastern side of the Canal. Moreover, with a base in the Caribbean Sea, in time of war the German Navy could disrupt shipping up and down the eastern coasts of both American continents with submarines, aircraft and surface vessels.

  And there were other dangers as well. Since the war, Germany had become the unchallenged dominant Power on the Continent, and as such would be able to extort even more colonies in the Western Hemisphere (and elsewhere) from small neighbors with overseas empires whenever she wished. Denmark and Netherlands would be forced to cede anything the Germans wanted in the Americas, from the Danish East Indies, to Curacao and Dutch Guiana. The Dutch and Danes were in no position to resist German demands backed by the most powerful army in the world. Only Kaiser Wilhelm’s often-expressed antipathy to the expansion of Germany’s colonial empire had delayed this development, in Grey’s opinion. But now, judging by the current crisis, it seemed that either the Kaiser had changed his mind about the value of overseas colonies, or had lost control of his government to the colonialists.

  The time to stop Germany was now, Grey decided. It was better to risk involvement in a naval war in 1923, with the odds overwhelmingly on Britain’s side, than to wait and give Germany a chance to expand its navy even further and build new bases for it all over the globe. By failing to join the coalition against Germany in 1914, Britain had ceded control of Europe to the German coalition. It was time for the British Empire to take a stand against the rising tide of Teutonic ambition; well past time, in Grey’s opinion. Having made his mind up, he went to work, rapidly but neatly setting forth his recommendations to the Prime Minister.

  Chapter Seven

  Berlin, May 2, 1923

  The young Lieutenant in the outer office had announced him and then escorted him into the Naval Minister’s inner office, but after he had been patiently standing in front of him for five minutes, Admiral Tirpitz had not glanced up, offered him a chair, or so much as acknowledged his existence.

  Enough was enough, Reinhard Scheer decided at last. After all, he was an Admiral, the Chief of the Imperial Naval Staff, and was at the very minimum was entitled to the respect due to his rank from the old man, especially since he had made this call as a courtesy to Tirpitz. Still, along with his entire generation of fellow officers, Scheer held the Grand Admiral in such a high degree of reverence that he had difficulty overcoming the feeling that he was a young ensign being called on the carpet by his C.O. whenever he was in the Naval Minister’s presence. Finally, he worked up enough courage to clear his throat.

  Tirpitz did not look up from his reading. “What brings you here, Scheer?” he growled. When the younger man began to settle into a chair, Tirpitz said, “You don’t need to sit down. You won’t be staying that long.”

  “Grand Admiral,” Scheer said nervously, “I have come to inform you that the Kaiser has commanded the Admiralty staff to prepare an assessment of the fleet’s readiness for a naval war with the Americans.”

  “A complete waste of time,” Tirpitz commented. “The Americans are a race of soft, money-grubbing merchants, who care about nothing but their profits. They are degenerate and utterly lacking in the one essential virtue of the warrior: the willingness to place country above self. There will not be any war.”

  Scheer wondered if the Grossadmiral actually believed the nonsense he was spouting. Did he think that the grandsons of the men who had stormed Marye’s Heights and Cemetery Ridge with such reckless courage in the American Civil War had degenerated into a race of cowardly milksops in just fifty years? Rather than allow himself to get sidetracked, he left the question unasked and returned to the purpose of his visit.

  “Sir, the Americans are concentrating the principal combat elements of their fleet at San Juan, in their colony of Puerto Rico, only 700 kilometers from Martinique. They have…” Scheer began.

  “So I have been informed,” Tirpitz interrupted. “If you have come all the way over here to bring me that information, you have wasted your time. It means nothing. The Americans are merely posturing, putting on a show before they back down. They are not ready for a real war.”

  “The Admiralty was ordered to prepare an estimate of the combat capabilities of the American Navy, and to offer the Kaiser an assessment of the probable outcome of a fleet action against the Americans,” Scheer continued doggedly. “Out of respect for your office and your person, I came to personally deliver a copy before…” he began, starting to open his briefcase.

  “Never mind; I have already seen it,” Tirpitz cut in again. He plucked the sheaf of papers from his desk and held them up for his visitor to see. “I was reading it when you arrived.” He raised his head to look the younger man in the eye. “I consider this report to be unworthy of a German officer and a dereliction of your duty to the Fatherland. No true patriot would have written such a report.”

  At last, anger overcame Scheer’s respect for and fear of his old superior. “You consider it a dereliction of my duty to tell my Supreme Commander the truth, that it would be a catastrophic blunder to send the High Seas Fleet to fight the Americans in the Caribbean?” he demanded, barely refraining from shouting. “For my part, I consider plotting behind your sovereign’s back to involve the Fatherland in a war it cannot win worse than a mere dereliction of duty…” He clamped his mouth shut, curbing his final, bitter words.

  “Did you want to say something more, Scheer?” Tirpitz prodded.

  “Yes,” Scheer answered. He spoke slowly, biting off each word. “I consider your actions in this affair, Grossadmiral Tirpitz, to be nothing short of treason.” He spun on his heel, and marched out of the office.

  * * * * *

  Three hours later, Scheer was seated in the Imperial Cabinet Room, presenting the Admiralty report. In his customary place at the head of the table was Kaiser Wilhelm. On the right was the Chancellor Michaelis, while on the left sat Minister of War, Crown Prince Rupprecht and the Chief of the General Staff, General Wilhelm Groener. Standing directly behind each of these worthies was the inevitable briefcase-wielding aide. It was, in essence, a meeting of the Imperial War Cabinet, with the notable but understandable absence of the Naval Minister, and the somewhat more puzzling absence (to Scheer, at least) of Foreign Minister Arthur Zimmerman.

  General Groener enlightened Scheer as to the cause of Zimmerman’s absence while they waited for the Kaiser to appear. It seemed that Chancellor Michaelis’ investigation of the Martinique plotters within the government had turned up evidence against Zimmerman in the form of a memorandum from the Colonial Office to the Foreign Office. The memorandum proved that, at a minimum, the Foreign Secretary had been recruited by Jagow, and therefore had prior knowledge of the scheme. The Chancellor believed that Zimmerman had been an active member of the conspiracy, but could not find evidence to support this belief. In any case, Zimmerman had been dismissed from office and the Kaiser had asked Michaelis to temporarily wear a second hat as the Foreign Minister until the crisis was over.

  “It would appear that my capital ships have sufficient range to reach the Caribbean with enough fuel remaining to maneuver and fight once they arrive, Admiral,” Wilhelm said, frowning as he studied the charts of warship specifications Scheer had provided along with his memorandum. The Kaiser liked to speak of the Imperial Fleet as if it was a personal possession, like his Royal Yacht, the Hohenzollern. “I am not altogether clear on the basis for your pessimistic predictions. The Nassau, Konig and Kaiser classes all have a range of 15,000 kilometers, the Heligolands 10,000, and the Bayerns over 9,000. The distance to Martinique is only 7,000 kilometers. Even my battle cruisers have the capability to cross the Atlantic. Is the United States Navy so overwhelmingly superior to my High Seas Fleet that you can foresee only disaster?”

  “Your Majesty, if the battle was fought under equal conditions, in the North Sea, for example, I would have every confidence in the succe
ss of your navy,” Scheer said earnestly. “But in this case, the conditions most emphatically would not be equal, but would be heavily weighted in favor of the Americans. First, I ask you to consider the fact that the majority of your light cruisers lack the endurance to reach the Americas without refueling, as do all the torpedo boats and torpedo-boat destroyers. Without any screening or scouting capability, the big ships would be fatally handicapped, and vulnerable to enemy torpedo attacks.”

  The Kaiser looked unconvinced by this argument, so Scheer hurried on to stronger points. “But there is a more basic issue. The capital ships have sufficient range, Your Majesty is quite correct, if they are permitted to cruise at their most efficient speeds, which assumes that the Americans will allow them to make the crossing unmolested. We cannot assume this. But suppose that they do. Once our ships arrive on the far side of the Atlantic Ocean, what then? What if the Americans do not choose to engage in a fleet action immediately, but instead maneuver, looking for an advantageous moment to strike? If forced to make high-speed maneuvers to counter the Americans, your ships will quickly run out of fuel and will be helpless, as they will be far from any friendly port. We must assume that the Americans are as aware of this as we are.”

  The thoughtful expression on Wilhelm’s face indicated to Scheer that the Kaiser was, if not wholly convinced, at least listening. By their grim faces, the Chancellor, the War Minister and the Chief of Staff already were in agreement with the Admiralty report, and needed no further persuasion.

  “But even suppose the most favorable situation, that there is an engagement before a fuel shortage cripples the fleet?” the Admiral continued. “Even if your navy is victorious, it is most unlikely that the Americans will be utterly annihilated, just as it is most unlikely that the High Seas Fleet will emerge from the action without having suffered serious battle damage or critical depletion of its reserves of ammunition. The Americans can withdraw to their bases for repairs, refueling and rearming, and return, ready to renew the battle. How will your ships be re-supplied with fuel, shells and provisions? Where and how will the absolutely necessary repairs be made? The logistic situation is next to impossible.”

  The Kaiser grimaced.

  “It is possible, if everything breaks perfectly in our favor, if the Americans charge headlong into an immediate fleet action, and are if they are obliterated in that battle, that German arms will prevail,” Scheer concluded, “but the likelihood that your fleet will be first reduced to helplessness by lack of fuel, or by running out of ammunition, and then be destroyed in toto, is far greater.”

  “You are telling me that we cannot risk a naval war with the Americans in their back garden,” Wilhelm said, sagging back in his chair. “You are telling me what I cannot do, but not what I can do. I am loath to give way so readily. I would like to test President Lowden’s resolve but without provoking an outright war, as I have no intention of placing my fleet in the impossible situation Admiral Scheer describes. What do you suggest, gentlemen?”

  “My advice remains the same as before, Your Majesty: I believe the wisest course would be to make a settlement with the Americans…” Seeing the Kaiser begin to cloud up, Chancellor Michaelis hastily went on, “…but if this still does not appeal to you, I think it may not be so difficult to arrange a test such as Your Majesty desires,” he finished. He had been considering precisely this question since the beginning of the crisis, as he had never had the slightest faith in a military (or naval) solution. “We can at the very least discover whether the Americans are willing to accept the onus of starting the war upon themselves by firing the first shot.”

  Wilhelm leaned forward, his interest obviously piqued. “Pray continue, Chancellor Michaelis,” he said.

  Rupprecht, Crown Prince of Bavaria with his first wife, Duchess Marie Gabrielle c 1905

  War Ensign of the German Empire 1903-1919

  Chapter Eight

  Washington, D.C., May 4, 1923

  At five o’clock, the President finally abandoned his attempts to get through the new Department of Labor employment report when he realized that he had just read the same paragraph three times and still did not remember a word of it. He knew that there were issues other than the crisis in the Caribbean that needed his attention, but for the moment he was unable to focus his full attention on anything else. His mind kept returning to the reception received by his speech to the joint session of Congress earlier in the afternoon.

  As he walked up the stairs to the Capitol Building, he saw long lines of people waiting outside, still hoping for a chance to witness the speech. The address was being given in the chamber of the House of Representatives because it was considerably larger than the Senate chamber. The huge room was jammed to overflowing. The public and press galleries were packed with standing-room only crowds. In the diplomatic section every seat was occupied, as the representatives of foreign powers pressed in to hear America’s response to Germany’s challenge. Members of the majority Republican party spilled over into the aisle and invaded the Democratic side of the floor, much to the displeasure of the latter. The visitors from the Senate were given the front rows, while arrayed behind the President were the nine members of his cabinet, Vice President Warren Harding, Speaker of the House Frederick Gillett and president pro tem of the Senate Albert Cummins.

  The murmuring crowd fell silent when Lowden stood and somewhat diffidently approached the microphone atop its metal stand. At the urging of Joe McCormick, he had reluctantly allowed this to be the first Presidential speech to be broadcast to the nation through the relatively new medium of radio. “It’s a chance to make your pitch directly to the public. There are over 600 radio stations out there now, with over 20 million people listening. If you can bring them around to your side, you’ll be in a much stronger position with the Senate when the time comes to ask for a declaration of war,” McCormick explained.

  “If the time comes,” Lowden corrected.

  A technician from the radio station adjusted the height of the stand to place the flat metal disk of the microphone at the level of his mouth. “Just stand about six inches back from the microphone when you speak, Mr. President,” the man advised. He then withdrew to an unobtrusive seat below the platform where his equipment was located.

  Lowden eyed the device suspiciously, still wondering if broadcasting the speech on the radio had been such a good idea, then pushed all distractions aside, cleared his throat and began to speak. He did not have any written notes, nor did he need any. He prided himself on his ability to speak without notes. In twenty years of practice as a trial attorney before he had entered politics, he had never once used written notes to make either an opening or closing argument.

  “The goal of the foreign policy United States under my predecessors has been to maintain peaceful relations with all the peoples of the world, and it is a policy that this Administration means to maintain.” This had been greeted with loud cheers from the assembled legislators. Indeed, the applause from some of the Midwestern delegations had been almost hysterical.

  “Our tradition has been to keep the peace by staying clear of the ancient dynastic squabbles of Europe, from which many of our ancestors fled to this continent. This tradition dates back to the very earliest days of our nation. George Washington in his farewell address warned, ‘The great rule of conduct for us, in regard to foreign nations, is in extending our commercial relations, to have with them as little political connection as possible.’ In his inaugural address, Thomas Jefferson counseled us to maintain ‘…peace, commerce, and honest friendship with all nations, entangling alliances with none’, lest we be drawn into the endless and futile conflicts of the Old World.” This, too, had met with overwhelming, clamorous approval both from the lawmakers seated on the House floor below him and the packed galleries above.

  “But the United States has another ancient policy which guides our relations with other nations as well, a doctrine first expressed by another of our Founding Fathers, our fifth President, James
Monroe, in 1823, one hundred years ago this year. Monroe made a solemn pledge that this nation would stand as the defender of our fellow free nations of this hemisphere and their people, a promise that we would place ourselves as a shield between them and the ancient enmities of the rival European empires. It is a promise that has never been broken during a century of challenges. The Monroe Doctrine is a necessary corollary to our policy of peace and non-involvement in the wars of Europe. For how can we avoid being drawn into the quarrels of the Old World if we allow it to bring those quarrels here, to the New? The enforcement of the Monroe Doctrine is not merely vital to our security, but in the long run is the surest way to guarantee peace for ourselves and our neighbors to the south.” This was greeted with tepid approval at best; it was clearly not what the assemblage wanted to hear.

  “We will spare no effort aimed at a peaceable resolution, nor reject any equitable proposal for compromise, nor fail to pursue any diplomatic initiative from any source to reconcile our differences and reach a pacific settlement of the present crisis in Martinique. Let there be no mistake about our peaceful intentions…” He paused, and there was another clamor of approval, and shrill cries from both the floor and the galleries of “Peace! Peace!”

  He waited for the tumult to subside before he continued. “But neither should our resolve be misunderstood in Berlin. Let it be known that the United States will not tolerate the presence of a new naval base under the control of a foreign power in the Caribbean. We must not, we cannot and we will not stand idly by and permit the sea lanes to the Panama Canal or the republics of South and Central America fall under the shadow of the German Empire. We will redeem the promise of the Monroe Doctrine, and we will never retreat from that ancient policy, whatever the cost may be. And in the end, if all our labors to find a peaceful solution prove to be in vain, the Kaiser should know that we in this nation will not draw back from its historic duty, even if the fulfillment of that duty will require me on a future day to return here, to ask the advice and consent of the Senate for a declaration of war on the German Empire.”