Tide Of Fortune (Kirov Series Book 20)

by John Schettler

  Torpedo number two in that same spread struck the cargo ship Sainte Jacqueline, and had a much easier time. The damage there was severe, and it would send the ship to the bottom in thirty minutes, along with a good deal of the heavy weapons that were still waiting to be off-loaded for the 98th Mountain Regiment. Most of the infantry made it ashore with rifles, machineguns and light mortars. But Sainte Jacqueline would take the three 88s they had sweated blood to procure, six 37mm AT guns, a number of 75mm mountain guns, heavier mortars, and considerable stores of ammunition, all to the bottom of the sea.

  Admiral Raeder would get the news late that night, his face reddening as he realized the navy was simply not prepared with all the assets needed to sustain an operation of this scale. He had clucked to Halder about the transports he had collected, but he realized now that this was a ragtag affair. The Kriegsmarine was simply not prepared for amphibious warfare, and only the skill of the Luftwaffe in landing the 7th Flieger Regiment had made this attack even possible. The thought that Goring would lord it over him now was another irritation. Yet facts were facts. Those mountain troops, General Kübler’s best, had not been well served tonight.

  Damn, he thought. Hindenburg damaged before the Royal Navy even shows up for a fight, and the loss of that transport pulls the teeth of the 98th Regiment at the same time. Give me three destroyers, and this would not have happened. Yet when we broke out into the Atlantic, it was with every expectation of raiding alone with those battleships. I should have brought that lone destroyer we had at Gibraltar along. Now we are trying to operate like a fleet, and we have neither the logistical support ships in place to sustain these operations, no underway replenishment capability beyond a rendezvous with a tanker, no light vessels required for anti-submarine defense, and proper screening. This puts me in a difficult situation. I cannot protect my ships without destroyers, and if the French cannot provide them, I will have no choice other than to recall my Schweregruppe to Casablanca. It gave the British a nasty morning, but it cannot operate alone off these islands any longer. We need destroyers!

  He signaled Admiral Laborde, informing him of the situation, and received a prompt reply. The French had six destroyers still sitting in the harbor at Casablanca. They would be dispatched immediately. Given the urgency of this operation, Raeder then signaled Hindenburg that they were to do everything possible to keep the ship operational for another 48 hours. The engineers worked all night below decks, and the pumps were able to clear the flooding three hours before sunrise.

  Axel Faust was personally supervising the situation, hovering over his heavy 16-inch shells like a mother hen counting eggs. Hindenburg had an upper magazine where four shells could be stored for ready ammo in a heated battle. It was normally not used, due to the added danger it would bring to the turret should it take a hit there, but in this case, Faust insisted he have four shells at the ready, and one in each of his two guns. He worked all night, making sure his powder was dry, because an inner sixth sense told him a big battle was coming, and he wanted Hindenburg ready to meet it in the best shape possible.

  So the man who should have been dead, on a submarine that should have been somewhere else, put his torpedo into a ship that never was, and the twisting gyre of fate would tighten and swirl around that event as the midnight hour passed into the blackness of the South Atlantic.

  * * *

  When Kapitan Adler got the news, and the order from Raeder, he was quick to comply. With the flooding controlled, he took his flotilla northeast to rendezvous with those six destroyers. Light Squadron 2 was sending two Destroyer Divisions, Number 8 under Captain Barnaud with L’Indomptable, Le Malin, and Le Triomphant, and Number 10 under Captain Still with L’Fantasque, L’Audacieux, and Le Terrible. They represented the entirety of the fast ocean going destroyer class that had astounded the world of naval shipbuilders when they first appeared. At about 3400 long tons full load, they were among the fastest ships in the world, capable of 45 knots, and very well armed.

  In the meantime, aboard the carrier Goeben, Marco Ritter and Hans Rudel were having coffee together after a long day.

  “Where is the Royal Navy?” said Rudel. “I need to put my nice fat bombs right down the stack of another battleship or two. All I had today was ground support missions for the Falschirmjaegers.”

  “I had better fare,” said Ritter. “Three kills today, those damn Albacores that tried to surprise us this morning. They came in low over the sea, on the west side of the island, and then tried to slip through a pass in the highlands to get at the landing operation. But I stopped them.”

  “Good for you,” said Rudel, “but we lost a ship today. Fleet defense is our number one mission, and something got through.”

  “It wasn’t a plane,” said Ritter. “It was a goddamned U-boat. They have them too.”

  “Just the same, we have to be a little sharper tomorrow,” said Rudel. “I’m going to get down low tomorrow and see if I can spot anything lurking about. Can you give me some top cover?”

  “My pleasure. You going to spear a U-Boat? With what? You don’t carry torpedoes, Rudel.”

  “A couple 500 pound bombs will do the job.” The Stuka pilot was confident, for he would go on to become Germany’s number one killer in the JU-87, even though he was missing out on all the action on the Eastern front. Another man might best him now in sheer numbers of tanks killed, but the tonnage he would put under the sea with his plane would exceed all the tanks he might have otherwise killed.

  And he was going to start adding to his credits very soon.

  Part XI

  The Dragon

  “My armor is like tenfold shields, my teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and my breath death!”

  —J.R.R. Tolkien: The Hobbit

  Chapter 31

  The Germans were finally realizing how difficult the task before them would be. The three southern airfields, El Aaiun, Tarfaya, and Tan-Tan were the only bases that could get a Bf-109 out over the invasion zone, and the northernmost field at Tan-Tan saw the planes needing drop tanks to even get to the scene. Those three fields were also going to be at the far end of the German logistical chain, with a long overland haul of 400 to 500 miles by truck for supplies, and aviation fuel.

  Most of that fuel would have to come by sea to really sustain operations, for the simple truth of war was that grey steel needed black oil. It was more precious a commodity than the ammunition for the planes and ships. Without ammo, a ship could at least run, but without fuel it could do nothing at all. For this there was only a single French oiler available for the job, another ghost ship that was supposed to be at the bottom of the sea, the Rhône. It had been on the Casablanca-Dakar route, and was mistakenly torpedoed by a German U-boat. But the warm embrace of the French Navy after Mers-El Kebir and the battles with the Royal Navy off Dakar had prevented that.

  So now the Rhône, and every man alive aboard, were another ship of Zombies on the loose in this history, and they were going to matter a very great deal. The ship was at Casablanca with a full load of aviation fuel for those forward airfields to the south, and was now making for the tiny coastal port of Quatia, where the barrels could be off loaded on the short quay and then trucked twelve miles east to the airfield. One of the two destroyer divisions coming south was along with Rhône for security. While the other division raced ahead to support the German battlegroup.

  Admiral Volsky had been correct. The Germans needed all that night, and then all the next day to catch their breath, mop up the last British resistance on Fuerteventura, and reorganize their logistical train. It was the unglamorous, yet essential aspect of war that the Generals and Admirals seldom spoke of, yet it has been said that in war, the amateurs talk strategy, while the real professionals talk logistics. Raeder was trying to be a real professional now, struggling to grasp all these new missions his navy would have to undertake to support the apple of his eye should Operation Condor be successful.


  The Germans were leap fogging additional planes to the south, and that night, the first Bf-109s of III/JG 77 landed at Tefia airfield on Fuerteventura, which had been seized late that afternoon by the pioneer battalion of 1st Mountain Division after a 15 kilometer trek through the high country. The main airfield near Puerto Del Rosario was still too close to the fighting underway there, and upon inspection, the first service teams to arrive there shook their heads in utter dismay.

  Raeder’s Schweregruppe had been very unkind with the British defending that field. It had received numerous salvoes from both Bismarck and Hindenburg, and the result found the field deeply crated from the heavy pounding they had delivered. Had this been an American run operation in the Pacific, a battalion of naval engineers, the intrepid “Seabees” would have landed with heavy equipment to get that field back into operation, but there was no such formation in the German Army or Navy. The damage to the port was also extensive, with piers leveled, and warehouse facilities with the two cranes there completely destroyed. The Germans had captured the town, but there was little in the way of a port there.

  Logistics… As the war progressed, it would become a supreme effort for the Allies as they planned their long counteroffensives against the Axis forces. They would literally bring a port with them for the Normandy invasion in Fedorov’s history, but again, Admiral Raeder had no such capabilities. Supplying the forces already ashore on Fuerteventura would not be easy, and he would soon have to roll up his sleeves and simply improvise.

  “I am going to recall the Prince Heinrich,” he said to Döenitz in their strategy session meeting with Goring. “The Luftwaffe is providing more than adequate air cover, and the few planes that carrier brings will make little difference. Yet it has a sturdy armored flight deck that can be used to load vehicles instead of planes, and its hanger deck can be used to carry considerable stores of supplies.”

  It was ironic that after laboring so hard and long to produce an aircraft carrier, and gnashing his teeth at the loss of Graf Zeppelin, the Admiral would now see his largest operational carrier in theater more useful as a supply ship.

  “I will order its air squadrons to fly to Tefia, where they will always be handy when needed. In the short run, we need transport capability for fuel and supplies. Prince Heinrich can also serve to carry aviation fuel in its bunkers, but we must labor to get a functional port as soon as possible. We have only one destroyer at Gibraltar, and it will be permanently assigned to escort Prinz Heinrich. I may also assign both Kaiser Wilhelm and the Goeben to this duty, and then Bismarck and Hindenburg will simply join Admiral Laborde’s heavy squadron for the confrontation that is surely coming if our fleets remain in these waters.”

  “Can you operate long enough to support Phase II?” asked Goring.

  “That will depend on how quickly you can be ready to renew the attack.”

  “I can give us air superiority today over the channel between Fuerteventura and the Grand Island. Tomorrow I will need that aviation fuel.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Raeder. “I spent all night looking for additional logistical support. We salvaged another French tanker at Saint Nazaire, and have put it into service as KMS Vierlande. I have ordered it south with a belly full of fuel, but it will be some days reaching us. The French two other ships at Casablanca, the Marguerite and Henri Desprez. Between the two, we get another 20,000 tons at sea, and they have agreed to put those ships on regular supply runs to any ports we can secure. Tonight the Marguerite departs for Arrecife on Lanzarote, as that harbor is in better shape than Puerto Rosario now. The French tanker Rhône is already off-loading supplies for Tan-Tan, but it is a slower ship. Prinz Heinrich is very fast, and it can fill in until our supply situation stabilizes. I ordered this redeployment last night, and the ship has been at 30 knots ever since. It should arrive back at Casablanca at 16:00, and commence loading operations. Destroyer Thor will meet the ship there, and it will get underway again tonight, by midnight. That would see it return to the theater of operations at about 14:00 today, and I plan on hitching a ride on Thor to get out there and plant my flag on the Hindenburg.”

  “But can your heavy ships remain here long enough to cover another assault operation?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Hindenburg can remain on station indefinitely. It has enough fuel to go 20,000 miles! Kaiser Wilhelm has a dual propulsion system, and her diesel engines can cruise 14,000 miles. Bismarck can do 10,000, and it can still operate for another week here with no concerns. I have rigged special hoses on the Hindenburg, and they can be used to refuel any destroyers that get thirsty.”

  “What about that torpedo hit on the Hindenburg?”

  “The damage has been repaired, at least enough to keep the ship operational. I will have a closer look when I get there.”

  “Very well,” said Goring. “Then I will keep you advised as to the movement of 22nd Luftland Division to the islands we control. They will relieve the 7th Flieger Regiment, and then we start again.”

  “Phase II must proceed as soon as possible,” said Raeder. “Too much is now riding on the outcome of Operation Condor.”

  “My airborne troops are certainly riding on it,” said Goring with a wry smile, his fat cheeks red with the wine he had for dinner. “You realize none of this would have been possible without my Luftwaffe.”

  “Yes?” Raeder turned to face him. “Then make it your greatest victory, Herr Goring. Success here redresses our failure to properly support the Sëelowe plan. We’ve already given the Führer Gibraltar and Malta. Now we must rout the British from their haunts in these islands. This will make plans for Operation Isabella much more feasible.”

  That was a plan that had been circulating at OKW for some time, involving a more substantial presence in Spain, and defensive strategy should the British attempt an invasion of the Iberian Peninsula. This meant the Germans would make a concerted effort to defeat that invasion, even if it meant occupying Portugal as well. This assumed, of course, that Franco would be amenable, and the Spanish Army would cooperate with the Germans, though that was by no means certain.

  Franco had carefully hedged his bets on Germany. He had permitted German troops to utilize his roads, rails and airfields to attack Gibraltar, with the promise that it would come under Spanish administration at the conclusion of the operation. This resulted in an arrangement that was a little like the situation in North Africa, where the titular commander was an Italian General, to whom Rommel supposedly answered. In like manner, there was a Spanish Governor installed at Gibraltar, with a small force of military police. But like Rommel in North Africa, the Germans did what they pleased, irrespective of the wishes of their Italian and Spanish supervisors. The garrison at Gibraltar was entirely composed of German troops, but Franco had a written promise from Hitler that Germany would cede that territory at the conclusion of the war.

  Franco knew that was about a secure a promise as the brief non-aggression pact between the Soviets and Germany in early 1940. While Britain remained unbowed, he always kept the possibility of reversing his allegiance in mind. British occupation of the Canary Islands did little to win his favor, and nudged him closer to Hitler’s seat on the train, but he still reserved certain options in his mind, and slowly identified Generals and other key ministers and army officers that he might count on should he decide to order Spain into widespread opposition to their German tenants. Thus far, Germany held Gibraltar, and had a modest presence on one or two mainland airfields, but even if he may not have known about Operation Isabella, Franco suspected such a plan certainly existed.

  Now Germany was invading the Canary Islands, under a new promise that they, too, would be returned to Spanish administration. Franco knew he would only be trading one occupier for another if the Germans prevailed, but seeing that there was nothing he could do about the German plan, he gave a mute blessing to it, and looked the other way. In many ways, Germany was slowly carrying out the broader operation Plan Isabella. It had called for the seizure of Gibraltar,
Spain, Portugal, the Canary and Cape Verde Islands. Slowly, but surely, they were ticking off those territories on their list.

  “Remember,” said Raeder, “now we have the Americans to worry about.”

  “They pose no threat,” said Goring. “They are busy with the Japanese now.”

  “At the moment, but they have already begun active support for the British in the North Atlantic. They have sent them 50 destroyers, relieved their garrison on Iceland, and American naval ships now patrol the Denmark Strait. How long before they get serious about prosecuting the war here?”

  “Ridiculous,” said Goring. “They have the Atlantic to cross, and Döenitz will make that very uncomfortable for them.”

  “Give me these islands and I will do that job much better,” said Döenitz.

  “Have you heard Volkov’s predictions on this matter?”

  “Volkov? The Prophet? That man is a fool,” said Goring. “He just wasted another good division in that attack into Siberia. Why I ever agreed to support that plan escapes me.”

  “You agreed because Hitler ordered it,” Raeder reminded him. “Just as he has ordered us all to secure these islands. As for Volkov, many of his so called prophecies have reached the Fuhrer’s ear. He has argued that the entire future effort of the Anglo-American Alliance will now be to open a second front in the west to relieve the pressure on the Soviets. This certainly makes good strategic sense, and Volkov claims the Allies will attack us here in French North Africa, and in France.”

  “If wishes were horses,” said Goring. “Here we are trying to arrange supplies and fuel transports to support less than two divisions being used in this initial operation. Can you imagine the logistics required for such invasions? To do as Volkov suggests, the Allies will have to first control the Atlantic, and to do that they will have to defeat your fleets, Admiral Raeder, and all our U-Boats.”