Kirov Saga: Hinge Of Fate: Altered States Volume III (Kirov Series)

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Kirov Saga: Hinge Of Fate: Altered States Volume III (Kirov Series) Page 20

by Schettler, John


  “Reliable men,” said Keitel. “Once they are on the ground and the Royal Navy has been sent packing, then we can begin the follow up phase and move infantry to the African Coast. From there, we will be able to execute the planned operations against the Atlantic islands.

  “And what is the planned start date?” Hitler tapped the table, an eagerness in his eyes now.

  “September 16th,” said Goering.

  “The sixteenth?” Raeder seemed surprised. “That is a full moon.”

  “Of course,” Goering smiled. “My bombers need to see what they will be aiming at.”

  “But the British will see your planes as well, Goering.”

  The portly Air Marshall clucked, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, Raeder. There is only one small airfield at Gibraltar, with no fighters assigned. I will smash the place in three hours.”

  Chapter 23

  Admiral Tovey sat at his desk with the reports on Operation Menace, a blight of typewritten pages that became a litany of excuses and finger pointing. He shook his head, again realizing how unprepared Britain was for the task of launching offensive operations that relied on combined forces from the army and navy. The operation had been problematic from the start. There was confusion from the very first, on the docks at Liverpool when the stevedores reported they had not adequately planned for the stowage of all the equipment and supplies required by the land forces. Truckloads of equipment were wheeled in, stowed, yet without any proper accounting of what was going on each ship. Cargo vessels were stuffed to the gills when it was found that tonnage remained on the docks that had been allocated to ships that were too full to take on even one more crate… And on it went.

  In typical British understatement that Tovey knew carried much more weight than it seemed on the surface, the Admiralty had noted that “the present organization for combined operations is not satisfactory.” If the German planners knew just how unsatisfactory Britain’s combined operations and sealift capabilities were in the late summer of 1940, they might have been even more assertive. It was not surprising then that early consideration of the Atlantic islands Raeder had been keen to occupy came to a lukewarm recommendation that they should not be occupied, unless it was believed that the enemy was about to do so.

  The troops assigned to the failed Operation Menace were returned to Freetown, Sierra Leone, arriving there on the 20th of August, 1940, along with the Royal Navy covering force.

  “Well Mister Brind, It appears that we are going to have to spread the butter a little thinner in the weeks ahead. With Barham gone and Resolution getting ready to limp home to Rosyth for repairs we’re no better off now than we were two months ago, even with the new battleships coming off trials and ready for duty.”

  “That is regrettably true, sir,” said Brind.

  “And look here—this late directive from the Admiralty expresses dissatisfaction that our Denmark Strait patrols are to be handed over to untried elements of the Russian Navy—that is exactly what it says here.” He handed Brind the note. “Has anyone informed their Lordships that those untried elements were largely responsible for turning back the German Operation Valkyrie?”

  Brind gave him a long look. “You’ve seen this Russian ship up close, Admiral. What do you think?”

  Tovey raised an eyebrow. “A marvelous vessel, to be sure. The ship has weapons and technology aboard that would make you blush with embarrassment, Daddy.” Tovey knew he had to be very discrete here, as much as he might want to confide in Brind. For the moment, however, he had sent a quiet message to Alan Turing at BP instructing him to secure the contents of the Geronimo files, as they were now being called, and await further notice, and to say nothing whatsoever about any of it until he had heard directly from Tovey.

  The Admiral knew he was now sailing in dangerous waters, concealing from his own government, and the Admiralty itself, the true nature of the Russian ship, and the evidence that had apparently already been gathered about it by the Navy… in another world, another time line! It was something he still struggled to admit to himself in his own mind, and he knew that he could not hope to ever breathe a word of what he knew to men like the First Sea Lord, Dudley Pound. Not knowing what to do about it, he opted for secrecy as the Russians had urged him, but there was a lonesome edge to that watch, like a man standing alone on the last wall, with the awful weight and responsibility for the fate of his nation now resting squarely on his shoulders.

  “The Russians can hold their own in the Denmark Strait. I’m convinced of that, and will make every effort to convince the Admiralty as well. We’ll watch the passages east of Iceland, and see that Force H at Gibraltar has what it needs to get back up on its feet.”

  “There was more in the basket than Cunningham took with him,” said Brind. “If Rodney and Nelson had been along, I wonder if the French would have been willing to lock horns with us.”

  “Indeed, but they were well east covering that supply run out to Malta. I’m afraid that is an operation we will have to repeat time and again, and at some risk.”

  “The Italians haven’t had much stomach for a fight,” said Brind.

  “They may take heart after seeing what the French just accomplished,” Tovey admonished. “Now… What to do with the forces allocated to Menace? Resolution will have to be brought home.”

  “Of course, sir.” Brind was looking over the list of those ships. “Cumberland took a knock as well, sir. She’s missing a couple teeth with the loss of Y turret.”

  “Then get her to Rosythe. We’ll leave Australia and Delhi at Freetown in her place. The other cruisers and the F-Class destroyers should return to Force H. What about the ground element? We’ve got a Royal Marine brigade and all of De Gaulle’s force at Freetown now.”

  “Admiral Keyes seems ready to have another go,” said Brind, referring to the former Admiral of the Fleet Sir Roger Keyes, who had come out of retirement to take an appointment as the Director of Combined Operations—the man who had been responsible for the overall planning for Operation Menace.

  “So he wants to take another swing, does he? Well he had best get his stumps, bails and creases in order when he draws up the field plan next time around.” Tovey was referring to the layout of a cricket field, thinking the whole operation was nothing more than a proverbial ‘sticky wicket,’ when the ball might take an unaccountable bounce on wet ground.

  “The Prime Minister suggested a coup de main against Casablanca,” said Brind. “Keyes is all gung ho for the venture. I read the report this morning, sir. Here are his exact words.” Brind lifted a page from the pile on his desk and read: “If the enterprise is confided to us we will get on with it full blast. If I have the responsibility, you may be certain that it will be planned to the last detail, and you will not hear anything about difficulties, hazards, and potential dangers.”

  Tovey smiled. “Confidence is one thing, Daddy, but reckless abandon quite another. We shall have to take the full measure of difficulties, hazards and potential dangers every step of the way now. We have no leeway for further mistakes.”

  “Well Keyes says he has over 2500 first class men down at Freetown now, led by excellent officers spoiling to fight. De Gaulle is stuck there with his troops as well and the two forces won’t like sharing billets there for very long.”

  “They need not worry on that account,” said Tovey. “I have no doubt the Germans will find work for them very soon. This talk of an operation against Gibraltar freezes my blood. I’m going over to Bletchley Park to see about the intelligence personally, but in the meantime Force H is light two battleships. What can we possibly send them, Brind?”

  “A good question, sir. The entire battlecruiser squadron is on crutches, and we won’t get Hood back until next year at this rate. Renown and Repulse are somewhat better off, but will still need long weeks in the shipyards.”

  “So that leaves us with only Invincible, King George V and Prince of Wales here,” said Tovey. “Somerville will just have to get on with what h
e has: Valiant, Nelson and Rodney. As for Cunningham at Alexandria, he still has Malaya, Warspite and Queen Elizabeth. We’re stretched thinner now than ever, unless we pull Revenge and Ramillies off convoy escort duty, and I see no alternative to that now.”

  “Agreed, sir. Shall I cut the orders?

  “Make it so.”

  “Where to you want the old girls, Admiral?”

  “Bring them home. If nothing else they can watch the waters east of the Faeroe Islands. That leaves us only the Iceland passage to worry about.” Tovey sighed, feeling very weary, but knowing he had yet another long flight to London ahead of him. “I’m off to Bletchley Park, and I shall meet up with fleet units by jumping a destroyer at Holyhead as usual.”

  Tovey had every reason to be worried about Gibraltar. All through the Kingdom the grey heads were coming to the conclusion that the Rock was in a very precarious situation now. No formal announcement of Spanish cooperation with Germany had been made, but rumors were circulating at Whitehall, and bits and pieces of intelligence were beginning to paint a grim picture. German units were drilling on the Spanish Frontier, and undercover men in Spain had observed road clearing operations and repair work being done on bridges and causeways.

  Churchill had been casting about for some remedy should the base be lost. Some had suggested an operation against Oran or Casablanca. Oran was discarded as being too vulnerable and with an unsuitable harbor. Casablanca was already considered, as Tovey knew, but was also deemed too vulnerable to enemy air attack, and requiring too much in the way of ground forces to defend against any concerted effort pushed down from Spanish Morocco. The Atlantic islands also glittered now as potential wergild should Spain turn her back on Britain. Could the islands be seized without creating a diplomatic mess with Portugal, or forcing Franco’s hand? Churchill expressed his attitude very simply one day, his pragmatic logic cutting through the problem easily enough.

  “All my reflections about the danger of our ships lying under Spanish howitzers in Gibraltar leads me continually to the Azores,” he had written to Whitehall. “Must we always wait until a disaster has occurred? I do not think it follows that our occupation temporarily, and to forestall the enemy use of the Azores, would necessarily precipitate German intervention. Moreover, once we have an alternative base to Gibraltar, how much do we care whether the Peninsula is overrun or not? I am increasingly attracted by the idea of simply taking the Azores one fine morning out of the blue, and explaining everything to Portugal after.”

  When Tovey arrived in London the following day, a plan to do exactly what Churchill was proposing materialized out of the blue and landed in his briefcase. It had been in the works for some time under the code name “Accordion,” but for security reasons it had recently been renamed “Alloy.” Three battalions under Brigadier General Morford had been detailed to seize the Azores, and another two battalions under Brigadier General Campbell would occupy the Cape Verde Islands under code name “Shrapnel.”

  As for the valuable Canary Islands, they were seen as a possible prime target of the enemy, and also as the island group that might offer Britain the most easily defended port facilities should they lose Gibraltar. A plan was also mounted here under the codename “Chutney,” but it was soon changed to “Puma,” and Churchill commented that “one wanted the biggest possible cat to catch a canary.”

  Tovey would now find out exactly how the cricket field he would have to play upon might soon look. Planners for these operations, most notably Admiral Sir Roger Keyes, were eager to begin. “Procrastination is the thief of time,” said Keyes, “and time is half a victory, which, being lost, is irrevocable.” Tovey was presented with a list of merchant ships, oilers and troop liners available, and asked to provide two aircraft carriers, two battleships, two heavy cruisers and at least eighteen destroyers.

  He took the news like a bleeding man being asked to donate blood, but in the end he agreed that Ramillies and Revenge could be pulled off convoy duty as he had already decided. He could either assign Ark Royal and Illustrious to the operation, or bring Furious out of her berth at the Clyde, and pull the enterprising Captain Wells and HMS Glorious from their present duty. In the end this was what he decided to do, still wanting carriers available for the watch on northern seas. Admiral Pound agreed, and Tovey was off to Bletchley Park, his briefcase just a little fatter with these reports and plans, and his resources just a little thinner.

  It wasn’t until his car pulled up at the estate, and he saw Alan Turing fiddling with his bicycle gears, that he allowed himself to smile. This time he was the one about to spring the big news on the intelligence master. Let’s see if Turing can decipher this business about the Russian ship when I tell him what I know now, thought Tovey.

  “Good to see you again, Admiral, though I wish the news in the intelligence circuits wasn’t so gloomy.”

  “I can certainly agree with that,” said Tovey. “Anything more on the German buildup in Southern France?”

  “We’re getting some bits and pieces decoded. The two motorized divisions we’ve identified are now on standby notice, and this might interest you, sir, the Germans have moved one of their big ships from the eastern Baltic to Kiel.”

  “The Hindenburg?”

  “I’m afraid so. The ship has apparently just completed trials. We’ve decoded an order indicating the Germans are bringing their fleet to a higher level of readiness again. Graf Zeppelin has moved to an anchorage off Oslo, and a few of their newer ships were assigned to that task force.”

  “Is the Admiralty aware of this?”

  “They will be shortly, sir. I believe the dispatches went out this morning, but you have it right from the horse’s mouth now.” Turing smiled.

  “I must say it’s the last thing I’d care to hear about. I’ve just come from a meeting with Admirals Pound and Keyes. They seem to be intent on teeing up an operation against the Atlantic islands. It’s all this worry over Franco, Spanish neutrality and Gibraltar.”

  “Those worries may be well founded, sir.” Turing had no comfort for Tovey this day. “We have now identified the code word for a planned German attack against Gibraltar as Operation Felix.”

  “Any indication as to timing?”

  “We’re watching, but the general consensus is that they might not go forward with such a plan until the next favorable moon. That could be any day now, as the moon is waning and will be dark on the 31st. If nothing develops, then the next window would be September 30th to October 3.”

  “Let us hope nothing does develop in the short run,” said Tovey. “We’re playing for as much time as we can get now, what with so many ships laid up for repairs.”

  “I saw the reports on Operation Menace, sir. Not very encouraging.”

  “Indeed, well they’ve just handed me another briefcase full of the same sort. Coincidentally, those plans call for operations during that same period, September 30th as the moon wanes to black. You never heard that from me, Mister Turing.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Tovey seemed to linger on an inner thought for a moment. Then he fixed Turing with a steady eye. “What I am now about to discuss will fall firmly within that same category. In fact, you will be the first and only person privy to the matter.”

  Turing raised an eyebrow, proud to be so trusted, but also realizing what this must be about. “I assume it pertains to the envelope you asked me to send?”

  Tovey smiled.

  Chapter 24

  “It does indeed,” said Tovey. “I shared those photographs with the Russians in a very private meeting recently, and I must tell you that they were as flummoxed as we both were over the matter. Yet that was only half of it. They pointedly admitted that the photographs were authentic.”

  The interval of silence harbored something quite profound, yet both men now seemed to know that they were of the same mind. “Mister Turing,” said Tovey. “You made a telling point when I last left you, suggesting that no one could have anticipated or predicted the
events depicted in those photographs, and that it would therefore be a complete waste of time for us to consider the documents you uncovered were part of some deliberate deception. It would be nonsensical.”

  “Agreed, sir.”

  “Well, this is precisely what the Russians believed, and more, their Admiral indicated that those photographs depicted events that he personally lived through!”

  “Yet those dates are in the future,” said Turing.

  “Quite so, and this was leading to a very alarming conclusion.”

  It was that overwhelming question that he had run through his mind on the verse of T.S. Eliot…. Oh, do not ask what is it, let us go and make our visit. This brought him to the tour of the Russian ship.

  “At that point the Russians invited me to visit their ship, and what I will now tell you must be held at the highest level of secrecy. No one else will know it, and I mean no one—not the Admiralty, not even the Prime Minister…. The real thunder comes now, Mister Turing. I was told that the photographs are authentic, and when I discretely pointed out the obvious misdating on the labels, I was told those dates were also accurate.” He let that stand, scratching his nose uncomfortably, but Turing simply nodded.

  “You do not seemed surprised to hear that,” said Tovey.

  “Oh, I find it earthshaking, but I suppose I’ve had a good long while to consider the matter. This echoes the very same logic I applied to the situation when I first uncovered those files. If they were all fabrications, that led to one mystery, as to why anyone would be producing such material. If, however, they were authentic, dates and all, then we had hold of another cat by the tail, and a rather ferocious one.”

  “Well I think it may have sunk its claws into the both of us,” said Tovey. “The question now is how could this be possible? That was, of course, what the Russians asked. They were very disturbed by those photographs. One, in particular, was supposedly taken just after this Admiral Volsky and I had concluded a meeting—the very same meeting referenced in those reports you found in that box. Yet it was the date and time of the meeting that was truly astounding. The man claimed it occurred on August 17, 1942.”

 

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