“Very true,” said Tovey. “Churchill has latched onto that as well. I’m sure he has communicated his desires to you, Admiral Cunningham—because he’s certainly given me an earful.”
“Yes,” said Cunningham. “What you say is not quite correct, General Wavell. Getting right of passage on Turkish rails is certainly a boon for Hitler, but those rail lines all begin in one place—Istanbul.”
“Precisely,” said Tovey. “The Prime Minister noticed that little detail as well, and he now wishes us to contemplate how we might cut that rail line at its root, lest the tree bear some rather bitter fruit, which is exactly how he put the matter to me.”
“You mean he wants you to interdict the Turkish Straits?”
“That he does,” said Cunningham, “and with no more than two battleships at hand, that will be a tall order. It would have to be battleships, of course. Nothing else really has the muscle to close the straits.”
“But that would mean we would have to fire on barge traffic across the Bosphorus!” Wavell exclaimed. “That traffic would all be owned and managed by the Turks. How could we train our guns there without so antagonizing Turkey that they would end up as another active belligerent against us, just like France after Mers el Kebir?”
“Agreed,” said Tovey, “on all counts. First off, we haven’t the naval power here yet to risk sending a strong force to the Dardanelles. They would have to transit the Aegean, past German occupied Cyprus and Rhodes, run the gauntlet of German air power in Greece and Bulgaria. It would be suicidal. Secondly, what General Wavell says is perfectly true. Suppose we did win through, perhaps with the air defense umbrella that our friends from the future can provide us. What then? Yes, we would find ourselves in the awkward position of having to fire on those barges. It would not be a hot minute before Turkish shore batteries would be forced to reply, and then we’ve got another Mers el Kebir on our hands, just as Wavell has it.”
“I pointed this out to the Prime Minister,” said Admiral Cunningham, “but he appears adamant, and insists the navy must do everything possible to choke off those straits.”
Wavell shook his head, with dark memories of Gallipoli rising in his mind. “He’ll get us into a shooting war with Turkey with that line,” he said. “We must find some other solution. Can’t the Turkish government be made to see reason?”
“It seems the Germans have made some rather enticing offers, and brought both a carrot and a stick to the table,” said Tovey. “They moved an army to the Turkish border, loaded up on Rhodes, and Ivan Volkov even began moving troops to the eastern Turkish frontier. That let the Turks in on what might soon happen if they failed to negotiate. Then, promises of a return of the Dodecanese Islands, or perhaps ceding certain territories in Northern Syria, were apparently enough of a carrot to conclude the negotiations in Germany’s favor. “
“Churchill wanted to try the very same thing,” said Wavell. “He was talking about that at the conference at Siwa, let alone the fact that we had not yet launched our operation to secure Syria. He still thought we might cede territory there in exchange for Turkish cooperation.”
“The best we were ever likely to get was continued Turkish neutrality,” said Tovey. “Even that much would be better than the situation we now face. So we have quite a thorny problem on our hands, gentlemen. If we do nothing to interdict those straits, then the Germans will certainly ferry units across to move by rail to Syria—units we will have a hard time matching, let alone defeating in the campaign now underway. Yet if we do commit the navy to this action, we risk further antagonizing Turkey, along with grievous losses that may also ensue.”
“Well,” said Admiral Volsky. “This is a difficult problem, but I believe I may have a solution for you.”
They all looked at him when Nikolin completed the translation, and Tovey was the first to speak. “If you are proposing to take this task on yourself, Admiral Volsky, I cannot ask you to shoulder this risk. The air power the Germans could bring to bear would be formidable, even for your ship. And given the fact that your missile count is running thinner and thinner with each engagement…”
“I thank you for your consideration, Admiral, but I do not propose to take my ship to the Turkish Straits. You are correct. We must husband our valuable air defense missiles whenever possible. I also have some very long range weapons we call cruise missiles. I suppose I could sail to a point northeast of Cyprus and fire them all the way across Turkey, but hitting a target in the straits would pose another problem.”
“You can actually fire at such ranges?” Cunningham was astounded.
“I have a missile that can range out 660 kilometers, but again, we must first see a target before we can hit it. In our day that was not difficult, because we had other means of observation, but we need not discuss that here. I have only ten such missiles, and again, they might be put to much better use elsewhere. But Kirov is not the solution I propose.”
They all waited, wondering what Admiral Volsky was leading to. “My friends,” said Volsky. “You will forgive me now if I seem like a poker player who has kept an ace hidden up his sleeve, but this is the case. We have another asset in theatre, and one I chose to keep secret unless it was absolutely necessary to disclose the information. This is because secrecy and stealth are some of the primary weapons this asset uses in waging war. The less known about it, the better. This was how I reasoned things through, and so I have said nothing about it. Gentlemen,” he smiled, “we have a submarine at our disposal—a Russian submarine from the year 2021, and one of the most dangerous and capable boats ever designed. It is called the Kazan.”
Tovey raised an eyebrow, but the news was too good for him to harbor any ill feeling over the fact that Volsky had concealed this information. “A submarine? Of course! How long has this vessel been operating here?”
“For some time. The movement we made to this time was to have been coordinated with Kazan, but things fell out of sync. In all truth, we were both simply trying to get home, to our own time. Lord knows both of our ships were dearly needed there—in another war—but that was not to be. So we fight this one instead. Kazan arrived some time after we did, using the very same means that permitted us to move in time. This is a long story, gentlemen, but may we suffice it to say that the submarine is here, and in fact it has already fought on our side. All those missiles we flung at the Franco-German fleet did not come from my ship alone, and the Strausbourg did not sink because of wounds it received in that battle. It was Kazan that put it at the bottom of the sea.”
“I have also considered using our own submarines,” said Tovey. “Yes, they are the one asset that might avoid the key threat in any transit of the Aegean—enemy air power. Yet they are slow when submerged, and would have to travel on the surface most of the time, increasing the risk of air attack. With luck I thought we might get one or two through the Dardanelles undetected, but once they make their attack, the Turks would likely seal off that narrow passage behind them, and the subs would be trapped in the Sea of Marmara. It would likely be another suicide mission, and we have all too few in theatre to spend.”
“Churchill won’t be so miserly,” said Cunningham. “He’ll say the loss of one or two submarines would be a small price to pay. Just a few weeks ago he was willing to expend a battleship to try and interdict Tripoli!”
“Perhaps, but it would be a bill we have to pay each week. One attack would not close those straits, and after the first, a second attempt might be impossible.”
“It’s a capital idea,” said Cunningham, “but I certainly see the difficulties—undersea nets, minefields, and even deployment of destroyers and corvettes in the straits. Yes, it would be a gun we could only fire once, and we might not even sink enough enemy barges to make a difference.”
“Kazan could make a difference,” said Volsky, “I assure you. It is not slow, and can remain submerged, traveling at very high speeds, indefinitely.”
“But won’t it be subject to the same threats in those narrow
waters?”
“No. It will not, because it can attack without even entering the straits, or transiting the Sea of Marmara. Kazan has more weapons than torpedoes. Our submarine also has missiles, similar to those I use on my ship, but even more advanced models. It can get into a good firing range in the Aegean Sea completely undetected, and unbothered by enemy air power. They will not even know it is there! Even my ship, with its advanced sonar systems, would have difficulty finding that submarine, and this even if we knew it was near us. Trying to time and target the ferry or barge traffic might be impractical, but we could destroy the rail terminals on the Asian side of the straits, and that would cause a considerable delay.”
“But didn’t you say you would have to see the target in order to strike?”
“Under normal circumstances, but Kazan has something we call an advanced cruise missile. It has a special means of inertial navigation, and can therefore fly to any target where he have good spatial coordinates. We know exactly where those facilities are, and can therefore strike them with pinpoint accuracy. So in the short run, gentlemen, if I commit this asset to the task, it will get through any defense the enemy could possibly mount, and successfully strike any target we assign. Once we do strike, then fear becomes another weapon in our favor. Yes, I know that it may be a long and difficult struggle ahead, and Kazan may not have the munitions to keep those straits closed indefinitely. This is not what I propose. But it can strike now, to inhibit or stop the flow of German reinforcements and supplies at a most critical time. That is what Kazan can buy you, time to do everything possible at concluding your operations on land before the German buildup makes that impossible.”
“It would also satisfy the Prime Minister,” said Cunningham, “and likely save the Royal Navy a lot of misery. But won’t it cause political problems with the Turkish Government? They may have come to believe we have these rockets. After all, they have only been used against ships in battle with the Royal Navy, and who else could be using them?”
Tovey shook his head in agreement. “They would certainly believe it was a British ship firing those missiles, and this brings us to that same sore elbow. We would still be faced with the issue of committing a direct act of war against Turkey. Won’t that be the case here?”
“But Kazan is a Russian submarine,” said Volsky with a smile. “In this instance it could be rightfully argued that Great Britain had nothing whatsoever to do with this operation.”
“True,” said Tovey. “Yet something tells me that would become a question of mere semantics in time. Wouldn’t we complicate things for Sergei Kirov if you were to do this?”
“Perhaps,” said Volsky. “But the axe is about to fall on him in any case. The Germans are lining up on the borders of the Ukraine, and it is only a matter of time now before that operation begins. With such a storm of steel poised to fall upon Russia, the protest of Turkey over our actions will not be something we would worry about.”
“You have discussed this issue with Sergei Kirov?”
“I have, and he agrees with the plan. In fact, he will make a formal statement that the attack is a reprisal for Turkish violations of their own neutrality! Russia is a declared ally of Britain, and Turkey has permitted forces hostile to Britain, and therefore hostile to Russia, to transit its borders. The Turks know damn well that war between Germany and Russia is imminent. Kirov was actually in favor of this little slap on the hand. If the Turkish government has a problem with it, Russia will take full responsibility for the incident.”
“Yes,” said Tovey, thinking hard about the situation. “We just may get away with that. Admiral Volsky, you have been as steadfast and true an ally as Britain could have in this trying hour, and I thank you again. I think I will vote here to accept your offer, as I think Admiral Cunningham will. General Wavell?”
“Assuming the Prime Minister has no objections, I agree. If this could be done, then I’ll move mountains, even if I have to make them out of mole hills first, and we’ll do everything possible to win on the ground in Syria.”
“Excellent!” Volsky smiled. ‘Then we are decided.”
Chapter 23
Ivan Volkov was a very content man that day. His Intelligence Chief, Kymchek, had given him a most welcome report. Karpov was up in his new Zeppelin, cruising boldly to Moscow for that meeting with Sergei Kirov, and undoubtedly signing some accord with him. Then he was blustering about in the skies over Germany, and even had the audacity to bomb Berlin!
He smiled, reserving a small kernel of admiration for the man. He thought he was invincible now that he had Ilanskiy under control. Well, where is he now? His new airship couldn’t even make it across the English Channel. To think that a simple thunder storm has rid me of that nuisance is most gratifying, but I have to know for sure.
“Anything more?” he asked Kymchek, wanting the very latest news on the incident.”
“The BBC has confirmed that the Zeppelin went down,” said Kymchek, “but there has been no sign of any wreckage in the channel.”
“The BBC? You’re getting your intelligence from a British news organization now?”
“Of course not. We have men on the coast there, and they also report nothing has come in to any port on the channel.”
“What about Potemkin?”
“They confirm. There has been no sign of wreckage or survivors.” Potemkin was one of Volkov’s little secrets, a submarine sent all the way from Novorossiysk to keep watch on the comings and goings of English ships. The boat had made the journey months ago, secretly refueling in German controlled ports, and with license to also rendezvous with German oilers. With a 9600 mile range, Potemkin was most useful for long range intelligence like this, though it was one of only a handful of subs possessed by the Orenburg Federation.
“Very interesting,” said Volkov, “but I don’t like it, Kymchek.”
“No news is good news in situations like this, sir.”
“Not entirely. Assuming that airship went down in the storm, there should be some sign on the waters there. Those gas bags are very buoyant.”
“Unless the ship burned, sir.”
“Don’t be foolish. They aren’t using hydrogen any more than we are. Yes, they might have been struck by lightning, and could have had a fire, but even so, something should be found on the sea.”
“They might have been carrying another of those new thermal bombs,” Kymchek suggested.
“That would be poetic justice, wouldn’t it?” Volkov grinned. “That little rat of a man thought he had us reeling after that surprise attack at Novosibirsk. Well, he’ll soon find out different—or perhaps not, if the weather was kind enough to rid me of the man. Keep watching that situation closely, but now that the cat is away, it is time for action.”
“Sir?”
“Ilanskiy, Kymchek. Don’t forget Ilanskiy. With Karpov missing, this is the perfect time to mount a major operation there.”
“But sir… The place was demolished in that raid staged by the Soviets. What use is it to us now? In fact, what use was it ever to us, aside from interdicting the Trans-Siberian rail?”
“Kymchek, believe it or not, I don’t tell you everything. You probably thought it was Karpov I was after there, but there was much more to that raid then you knew about. It is not that I do not trust you, of course, but certain things must be kept very quiet. Frankly, my own left hand keeps secrets from my right. That is the way this business must be conducted. Yes?”
“I understand, sir.”
“Very well. You have that list of all airships available for operations?”
“We can form one division from the Northern Fleet, Pavlodar, Talgar, Saran, and of course the fleet flagship, the Orenburg. A second division is arriving from the Southern Fleet: Sarkand, Tashkent, Samarkand, and Angren. Caspian Fleet is sending four more airships, though Admiral Zorki was not very happy with that order. He claims he needs every airship he can get his hands on for the defense in the Caucasus.”
“He won’t hav
e to worry about that for very much longer,” said Volkov. “The Germans will be hammering at Sergei Kirov’s back door soon enough. Very well, twelve airships overmatch the entire Siberian Fleet, particularly with Karpov out of the picture. Any change in their fleet dispositions?”
“No sir. They still have three airships near Ilanskiy, three more at intervals on the front, and two with Kolchak out east near Irkutsk. It is only 660 kilometers to Ilanskiy from Irkutsk, so it is likely those two could be sent as reinforcements if we move as planned.”
“I’m counting on it,” said Volkov. “I want to destroy Karpov’s entire fleet. He may not be alive to get the bad news, but if the British do manage to pull him out of the sea, let’s hope they put him under lock and key. The news that he’s lost far more than Tunguska will be a nice barb. Yes, I would love to see his face when he learns I’ve smashed his impudent little fleet and have a full heavy division sitting on Ilanskiy! I’ll want a battalion on each ship.”
“We’ve pulled the entire 22nd division off the line, sir, and there are five more battalions trained for rapid deployment as well—one from each of the Guard Divisions.”
“Excellent. And the ground attack?”
“General Berenko says he has five divisions ready on the line, with one armored cavalry brigade in reserve.”
“That should be more than enough to break through north of Novosibirsk.”
“Yes sir, but it is 875 kilometers from the front line to Ilanskiy. We cannot expect any support from the land force element for some time—if at all.”
Hammer of God (Kirov Series Book 14) Page 20