Kaleun turned as Grant propelled a sheepish looking Hogg up the ladder to Kaleun’s bridge. Grant smiled and shrugged apologetically and held out his hand. The German Captain took a pace forward and held out his. Suddenly, he found his arm twisted up his back and the barrel of a pistol thrust into his ear. The man holding the gun spoke in English, English which was immediately translated by the young Stabsoberfeldwebel.
“Stay still, keep quiet…Tell your crew, all of them, to muster on the jetty… now!”
* * *
With the ammunitioning completed by the German seamen, two British seamen moved quickly along the line tying the hands of their prisoners. With the heavy machine guns from both vessels trained on them the Germans offered no resistance.
“We’ve done it again, sir,” said Hogg awkwardly climbing the bridge ladder with a fat folder under one arm. He dropped his burden onto the chart table and opened it out.
Grant peered over his shoulder, “Done what?”
“A month’s worth of recognition signals and… look at this,” he drew out a buff envelope. “The skipper’s orders, signed by an Admiral, no less… can’t make out the signature; but they make interesting reading. Tonight, they were going to Trondheim to collect a group of Norwegian politicians and high-ranking officers, along with their Gestapo interrogators. They were meant to take them back to Germany. Looks as if we’ve spoilt a spot of home leave, for them; no wonder they look so glum.”
Grant crossed quickly to the port side and leant over the lowered windscreen. “Petty Officer Stone, you’ve been promoted again, take charge of the ‘Eddy’, divide the prisoners in half and share them amongst the two boats lash ‘em down on the fo’c’s’le …it’s going to be a rough ride!”
“Shall I reset the timer?” asked Stone.
Grant hesitated; he had noticed something earlier, “No… Wait one… Have you noticed the tide and the wind are in the same direction?”
“Westerly, yes sir, from us to the old harbour.”
“And the big fat German merchantmen alongside,” added Grant. “How far away would you say they are?”
The big P.O. turned to face east, “About a mile, sir, I would say, perhaps a little less.”
“See what arrangements the Germans have on the trot’s anchors fore and aft… see if you’ll be able to split the cables.”
He turned back to Hogg, “Sorry but I have to give command of the ‘Eddy’ to Stone instead of to you, but you can see my dilemma.”
Hogg held palms out in front, “Erh…That’s perfectly alright, sir. It’s your decision… if I may say so; you do underestimate your own German. Why do you need me, I thought we were on our way back.”
“Because we’re not, at least not straight away, I’m going to need that German of yours again.”
Hogg tapped the folder with one knuckle, “Anything to do with this, sir?”
Petty Office Stone appeared beside them, interrupting the conversation.
“They use the same sort of gear as us on their anchors, sir, nothing we can’t handle. I can take the weight off the cable with their bottle screw and then take out a joining link and slip the lot, if that’s what you want.”
“That’s exactly what I want, Petty Officer. You slip one anchor and get O’Neill to do the other. You can take half our men with you to crew the ‘Eddy’… I’ll set the timer, I don’t see why Jerry should be sleeping while we’re working, do you?”
“You’re going to give them a rude awakening, sir.”
“That’s the general idea.”
“Do we wait for you to give us the all clear before we break the cable?”
“Yes…they need to be slipped more or less together.”
“Aye, Aye, sir.”
* * *
The two E-boats eased astern, backing away from the ammunition barges. The tide and wind caught the eight barges and, still tied together, they drifted rapidly away towards the dark shoreline.
Like well rehearsed dancers the two boats turned smoothly together and, with Grant’s boat in the lead, Shot, at full speed, towards the fjord’s entrance.
The sentry at the old watchtower recognised the snarl of the boat’s Daimler diesels, rather than the boats themselves and let them pass without bothering to switch on his searchlight.
* * *
Wilson swung the heavy machine gun round on its mounting to let Wyatt by.
“Did you see the face on Bushel when the skipper told him he had to look after those prisoners until we got back.”
“Royals! Never could understand ‘em, if that had been me, I’d be well chuffed to be left behind. The skipper’s going to need more flannel than a Pusser’s blanket to get away with this… Is that the town ahead?” he nodded towards the black outline of buildings silhouetted against snow.
“That’s it,” Wyatt pointed, “and that, over there to the right, is the jetty where we are going to pick up the passengers.”
“Ain’t worth you going below, we’ll be there in no time.”
As if on cue the engines died away and the boat’s raked bow sank slowly down to reveal more of the coastline.
* * *
“I think that must be the building at this end of the jetty, I can see two guards,” Grant lowered his binoculars. “You’ll be on your own once you’re ashore Middy. If it seems matters aren’t going well, make some excuse to get outside, go for a pee, tell them you’ve forgotten some papers, anything. Then get back here, we’ll be ready to give you covering fire should you need it. If you pull it off and those guards come with you, use the same tactics you used on the ammunition barges to stop them talking to our men, inspirational stuff that, by the way.”
Hogg smiled as Grant continued, “Try to make the guards see we have no need of them and that we’ll be responsible for the prisoners once they step foot onboard. Plead lack of space, that might work. Last thing we need is a bunch of Jerries swarming all over the bloody…”
Suddenly, on the port beam, a blinding flash of orange light lit up the sky. Moments later, the thunder of a huge explosion reverberated around the fjord echoing back from the tree-covered mountains. Before the noise of the explosion had completely died away, a volley of smaller explosions sent rockets of light and flame soaring skyward. The whole northern sky lit up like day. The inferno grew in its intensity, from the midst of the blazing light a huge mushroom of smoke rose into the sky reflecting the flashes from the explosions beneath it.
On the jetty, German soldiers were spilling from the huts to stand open mouthed staring at the huge firework display that was erupting just beyond the mountain’s black silhouette. Indeed the whole town had been awakened; people were running from their houses to line the shoreline.
Almost unnoticed, the E-boat bumped alongside, before any lines could be passed, Hogg, clutching his wad of German papers had jumped the gap between the deck and the jetty. Not looking to right or left he marched swiftly towards the hut, stopped, showed his papers, spoke briefly to the guards and went inside. The door had hardly closed when it swung open again. Hogg emerged followed by two men in black leather jackets. He pointed towards the explosions and the three men stood watching for a few moments before, turning, they went back inside.
As Grant waited the explosions slowly died away and the darkness returned. A welcome darkness that crept across the fjord until only the water on the far shore reflected the glow of the flames. Convoys of vehicles and escorting motor cycles began to leave the town, passing along the shore road in a seemingly endless stream. Grant began to worry that he had created too much of a diversion; he willed the door of the hut to open again.
It was a long five minutes before it did; a helmeted guard was first out, followed by a file of six men chained together by their ankles. Even in the poor light Grant could see the caked blood on faces. The two men in the leather jackets and one other uniformed guard followed, close on their heels, to Grant’s intense relief, came Hogg.
The prisoners and their escort had just re
ached the bottom of the gangway when, worryingly, Hogg and the two Gestapo men became embroiled in a heated discussion. Grant, although too far away to understand a word, could detect frustration and anger in their voices. Hogg seemed to be losing the argument; finally he shrugged dramatically and turned away as he did so he glanced up at the bridge, there was a worried expression on his face. A second later Grant realised why. The prisoners were pushed towards the gangway and the Gestapo men followed.
Grant walked casually across to the unmanned machine gun and flicked off the safety.
Below, Hogg motioned to Wilson and Wyatt and they began dragging the gangway inboard. It was then that Wyatt tripped on one of the ropes. He must have said something for suddenly the two Gestapo men swung round, shouted, reaching inside their jackets.
Then everything seemed to go into slow motion. The guards on the jetty hauled their machine pistols from their shoulders, the Gestapo men pulled revolvers from their coats. Wyatt kicked out and one of the Germans dropped to the deck. Wilson delivered a blow to this head with the butt of his gun. Feet away Hogg wrestled with the other man.
On the bridge Grant swung the gun round and, aiming at the guards still on the jetty, fired one long, sweeping burst. The men took the short-range fire full in the chest jerking rapidly backwards like discarded puppets. Immediately he hauled the heavy gun round to cover the jetty yelling for the ropes to be slipped. There was a long burst of fire from aft and Grant saw a leather-clad figure hit the port guard rails his body almost cut in half by Wilson’s Schmeisser.
Ashore the door to the interrogation hut slammed back against its hinges, a group of men burst forth. Grant opened fire, lifting the men from their feet, twitching and jerking they were thrown back against the side of the hut.
“Wheelhouse! Full astern starboard, full ahead port! Wheel hard a starboard.” With a roar the powerful engines screamed into life swinging the bow out from the jetty.
“Stop starboard. All engines full ahead, steer west!” The length of the jetty had suddenly filled with the bobbing, weaving figures of more soldiers. Grant opened a withering fire. Flashes of tracer arced back and forth between the wooden structures like angry fireflies. The opposition took cover and returned the fire. Splinters and sparks flew from the stern rail.
* * *
Slowly he regained conscience; the back of his head was splitting from the blow from the butt of Wilson’s gun. The Gestapo man opened one eye. He could see the bottom half of the man who had posed as a German Officer. He grabbed at a foot and jerked it viciously to one side; with a crash Hogg hit the deck. The German scrambled to his feet kicking out at Hogg’s kidneys, the youngster jerked into a pain-filled ball. The boat suddenly leapt ahead turning rapidly. The deck sloped, the German, caught off balance staggered backwards, arms flailing the air, trying desperately to regain his balance. He fell through the gap where the gangway had been, turning a half somersault into the froth, he had time for one scream before he was sucked down into the three whirling thrashing screws. The white foam turned momentarily pink as the E-boat trailing lines of tracer, roared away into the night.
* * *
The shore batteries spaced along the fjord had been on a high state of alert since the massive explosion and were waiting to join the fight. Their barrels trained quickly round onto the renegade E-boat. As she came into range orange-tongued flames flickered from a score of the deadly eighty-eights.
All around, the fleeing boat, water spouted high into the night sky. The E-boat bucked and jumped as she ploughed through, her bridge inundated with water.
Suddenly another E-boat appeared from out of the dark, roaring in towards Grant’s boat, her heavy machine guns firing wildly her Reichskriegsflagge snapping from her mast. Flak rounds from her after gun screamed across the rapidly closing gap, passing within feet of the renegade’s bridge.
One by one the crews of the shore based eighty-eights were forced to cease fire only able to watch impotently as the newcomer crossed between them and their target.
Grant’s boat had, somehow escaped damage, but it could only be a matter of time. The two boats danced and pounced at each other, their giant bow waves and powerful engines churning the water into a maelstrom. The frustrated shore gunners could not believe their eyes, neither boat had scored a hit on the other and the renegade E-boat was now almost clear of the harbour mouth with the other boat in close pursuit. The flashes from the heavy machine guns disappeared behind the headland as the two charged out through the entrance to the fjord all their guns blazing.
* * *
The two E-boats lay hove to, side by side, gently bobbing their bows to the waves.
Grant lifted a megaphone to his lips. “By God. You had me worried there for a second or two, Petty Officer Stone…but well done …quick thinking.”
“That’s a pint you owe me, sir!”
“I’ll buy you a bloody crate as soon as we get back, and that’s a promise. For now, get your chaps looking for anything we can use as ‘wreckage’; we’ll be doing the same. Clothes, lifebelts anything you can spare. Throw the lot overboard. We’ve a dead German to get rid of as well. I’ll drop a depth charge as we leave, with a bit of luck, the explosion may fool the Germans into thinking there’s been a collision and both boats have sunk here. The PO waved an acknowledgement as the ‘Eddy’ dropped astern of her prize.
Within ten minutes, and amid the dying echoes of the depth charge explosion, the two boats were once more in line astern and picking up speed. Astern a balding leather- clad figure bobbed violently in the wash from the two boats, its eyes staring at the clouds rushing across the moon.
* * *
Wilson and Wyatt lifted the edge of the ‘Nishga’s’ camouflage netting high above their heads. The E-boat inched slowly ahead and the two men ‘walked’ the net aft, over the heads of the prisoners on the small fo’c’s’le, climbing on winches and wash-deck lockers to clear the bridge and gun positions. Reaching the stern they threw it into the water clear of the slowly turning screws. As the prize tied up to the grey bulk of the ‘Nishga’ the ‘Eddy’’ in its turn, crept under the netting and into the dappled shadow of the hideaway.
Quite an audience lined the decks of the destroyer. A great cheer erupted at the appearance of the second E-boat; she emerged from behind the thick curtain like a Prima Dona taking a well-earned curtain call. A grinning Petty Officer Stone gave a Royal wave and bowed deeply from the waist to more cheers.
* * *
“Welcome back!” said Barr as he clasped his fellow captain’s hand. “I thought I was seeing double there for a moment. If you carry on like this you’ll soon have your own Navy and won’t need to work for His Majesty’s.”
Grant gave a tired smile, “It’s good to be back, sir, A bit like coming home. He looked around the, now, familiar cabin.
Barr’s ever attentive steward had anticipated their requirements and the coffee pot and cups were already arranged on the tidy desk.
“It’s funny you should mention home,” began Barr. Grant stiffened as he recognised his senior officer’s standard preamble to important news, “It appears we all have a spot of unexpected leave coming up.”
“Really!…Bit sudden isn’t it, sir, why now?”
“We’ve been having a spot of engine trouble on and off for the last week or so, the Chief seems to think it’s because the boilers weren’t cleaned on schedule. As you know that’s a dockyard job, so while we are having it done we should be able to fit in five days leave to each watch. We need fuel anyway and you’ve managed to give us half the Kriegsmarine as prisoners so we’ll be calling in at the ‘Flow’ en route. Now you’re back, we can leave tonight. From there we’ll go on to Liverpool where, apparently, there’s a vacant dock.”
“Well, that’s splendid news, sir. I know the men will be over the moon. What about the remaining ammo barge, are we taking that.”
“No, that stays where it is for the time being. It’s a sparsely populated area and I plan to leave t
he Norwegian what’s his name…?”
Grant smiled, “Olaf, sir.”
“Yes, yes Olaf. He’ll stay and continue to gather information, his home and village are near enough for him to keep an eye on both berths and he can warn off the locals if necessary.”
Grant handed Barr a wad of papers, “Here’s my report, and the German boat’s papers.”
While Barr read his way carefully through the report and the translations, Grant poured a second cup of coffee while his mind drifted around the prospects of shore leave. He hadn’t been home for some time, he tried to remember exactly when, but his tired mind could not get a grip on the dates. It seemed like a lifetime. God knows they had been lucky so far, there had been no one killed, but all of that could change, would change probably. All in all a rest would be a fine thing recharge all their batteries. The men had certainly earned it.
“This reads like a Boy’s Own adventure story.” Barr said at last, as he threw the thick wad on to his desk, “You certainly deserve a rest after this lot. Truly, Robert, there’s some stirring stuff in there. I see you have mentioned Hogg and Stone. This will almost certainly mean an oak leaf cluster for both men. Grant’s eyes went to Barr’s medal ribbons and the cluster he had won when he had been ‘mentioned in dispatches’ last year.
“I had thought of that, if it was up to me I’d recommend far more.”
“Well, Stone, as a Commanding Officer of one of His Majesty’s ships, however temporary, could certainly be in line for more. We will have to see… I think it no bad thing that we’re going back, we’ve stirred up such a hornet’s nest it won’t hurt to give things a week or two to calm down.”
Grant rubbed his forehead with one hand, “As I mentioned in the report, sir. We tried to make it appear as if both boats had come to grief outside the fjord. But, we have no way of knowing whether they took the bait.” He drained his cup, “Before we sail tonight, sir, I’d very much like to have a closer look at those caves.”
On the Edge of Darkness (Special Force Orca Book 1) Page 10