The result was amazing speed, with powerful engines that could drive the ship to 32 knots, and range exceeding any other battleship in the fleet. Invincible was the pride of the Navy, still state-of-the-art twenty years after she was conceived, and Tovey found himself regretting that the Admiralty had been forced to cancel the last three ships slated for that class.
They were scuttled by the Washington Naval Treaty, he thought, and thank god for the clause we managed to negotiate that allowed us to retain this one ship. We should have built more G3s, Tovey knew. Instead they fuddled about with the Nelson class trying to use the work done for the N3 battleship designs, after scaling it down to meet the requirements of the treaty. What we got was too slow for the war that we find ourselves in now. As it happened, both the Americans and Japanese were busy building new designs that violated the treaty. We were snookered and lost our chance to have all four G3s at sea today. But by god, at least we’ve got Invincible.
Just as HMS Hood had been the only one of four ships planned for the Admiral Class battlecruisers, Invincible was an only son born of the G3 class design proposals. Really a fast battleship, it was nonetheless decided that the ship would form the flag of the speedy Battlecruiser Squadron, which is where Tovey planned to be if things heated up, replacing Admiral Whitworth who was taking the position of Second Sea Lord.
“How is she working out, Brind?”
“Very good, sir. New ears for the old girl, and better anti-aircraft protection. Gunnery trials were entirely satisfactory after the new 4.7 Dual purpose guns were refitted. Engines and propulsion are still top drawer.”
“Good to hear it, as I intend to place my flag there tomorrow.”
“You’re going to sea, sir? Tomorrow?”
“Mister Brind, where else would an Admiral of the Home Fleet better dispose himself than at sea with his ships? Tomorrow will do quite nicely. We’ll settle in for a day and depart on the 14th. That will give Rodney time to get south and stand a watch closer to home. As for Renown I want to her within arm’s reach in 48 hours.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Now then…We’d better have a good look at everything else. Something tells me the Germans are up to something big here, and we had best be prepared for it.”
Tovey’s nose for battle was serving him well.
Chapter 12
Doenitz leaned heavily over the map, his eyes scanning it with misgiving. “Too soon,” he muttered. “We are not yet ready for major operations in the Atlantic.”
“Well it seems Herr Hitler is,” said Raeder. “These plans were drawn up specifically to satisfy that man. You most certainly read the Fuhrer Directive.”
Doenitz shook his head. “Of course I have read it, but that does not mean we should commit the bulk of the fleet like this—all our newest designs..”
“Not all. I’m keeping Kaiser, Rhineland and Westfalen in the pen. What else can I do? Hitler specifically ordered this planning be given the highest priority.”
“You insisted on building these ships, Raeder, so now don’t be surprised when the Fuhrer asks you to use them.”
Raeder folded his arms, thinking. “We’ve sat on our thumbs for all of a year, with little more than the Graf Spee and Admiral Sheer to challenge the enemy. Now we are waiting for Hindenburg to rig out and run through trials. The ship is almost ready, and so are Bismarck and Tirpitz.”
“Well if you had left me a little steel in the bin, and if we could keep fat Goering’s hand out of the purse, then I might have more to support you. As it stands, we’ve no more than a hundred U-boats ready now, a third of what we need for this war, and many of those are early Type VII boats, not suited for operations in the Atlantic.”
“Well how many boats can you commit?”
“I can give you one or two wolfpacks for the Atlantic by pulling in most of the units I have there now. But they will have to operate in the east. All the boats are coming out of Wilhelmshaven, swinging north of the UK and then loitering southwest of Ireland. That’s where the real pickings are at the moment. The rest will have to operate along the French and Spanish coast, or in the Med.”
“That will have to do then.” Raeder was equally concerned, but in spite of his reservations there was still the thrum of a thrill within him over the operation. It was truly grand, truly dangerous. Can we risk it, he wondered? The heart of the fleet? Of what use are the ships if we simply leave them riding at anchor in the Baltic Sea or building up layers of frost in the fiords up north? Winter is coming, and it may be a hard one if the Allies regain their balance. We have knocked them back on their heels. Yet what of the fuel situation? We’ll burn off virtually every drop of oil we have in an operation of this size. It could take us months to recover to a level where we could function normally again.
“Do you really propose to operate on this scale?” Doenitz voiced the same basic question, seeming to read his mind, fully aware of the risks and difficulties involved.
“I know, Admiral,” said Raeder. “I have had nightmares about it for months. But we will not sail out in one great sortie to seek battle with the British Home Fleet. That would be foolish. The bands will play, the crews will stand in dress whites on the decks and then it is out of our hands. How much will come back? That is the question I keep asking myself. No. The virtue of the ships we have built still lies in the unique combination of speed, power and endurance. We will accomplish our aims with maneuver, not a set piece battle. To do this we have deployed tankers that will allow at sea replenishment for our capital ships in the Atlantic. Our Trosschiff fleet support ships are as important as any of the battleships. We have six deployed to support the battlecruiser operation at this very moment.”
“And what about Norway?” said Doenitz. “If you send out all your warships who will watch the coast? The garrisons will be isolated, without replenishment by sea.”
“We have a supply convoy scheduled to go with Bismarck and Tirpitz. In fact, this is part of the cover plan for the operation as a whole. If I can convince the Royal Navy that these initial movements are aimed at reinforcing Norway, then we might not raise enough suspicion to prompt a major response from their home fleet.”
“I would not count on that,” Doenitz shook his head again. “The British have been masters of the seas for generations. They will know trouble when they see it, and act accordingly.”
“That may be, but the plan is sound. Scharnhorst and Gneisenau will soon head for the Atlantic. They’ll be looking to draw in as many British heavy units as possible, and I think the English will oblige us. We already have a Condor report showing the movement of two battleships and a carrier.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Doenitz cautioned.
“True, but this sortie with the battlecruisers will force the British to assign capital units to look for them. Yes, there is always the chance they may find them, but thirty-two knots is a good speed if they have to avoid engagement.”
“Those ships have had teething problems, Raeder. They ship too much water over the bow. Get them into heavy seas and you could find you’ve lost your forward turret without firing a shot. And as for the superheating tubes on the boilers, Scharnhorst will be lucky to average 28 knots in the Atlantic.”
“Yes, well remember, the battlecruisers are only a feint, a shadow on the sea to cause alarm. Then comes Bismarck and Tirpitz escorting the convoy north to Bergen and Tromso from Kristiansand. That is the theater. Operation Valkyrie follows. The British will watch that with great interest, and perhaps even commit more units to the Norwegian Sea to keep an eye on us there. We’ll scoot them up the coast, then turn west for the Denmark Strait.”
“And Hindenburg?”
“It will not be ready in time, but it will stand as fleet reserve. If the other units draw off the hounds as I suspect, then Hindenburg may be able to show a mailed fist and force the British to retain heavy units at Scapa Flow. The weather is very good for us now, all socked in, so the RAF will see nothing. Each group wi
ll be more than enough to defend itself, and a nightmare for the British at the same time.”
“Would it not be better to combine the entire force into one powerful surface wolfpack?”
“You think like a submariner, Doenitz. The Fuhrer might warm to such an idea, but that will result in nothing more than a major tactical engagement that will achieve nothing. We cannot trade the British battleship for battleship. My idea is to disperse the fleet to pose a wide ranging threat at many points.”
“But then you will dribble your force away, a ship here, a ship there, and the hounds would run the foxes down one by one. Would it not be better to concentrate the fleet?”
“No, Doenitz, dynamic dispersal. What we do, the enemy must also do. If we concentrate, so will they, and they outnumber our battleships more than two to one. But if we disperse the fleet we force the enemy to also dilute his forces in trying to run these foxes down, and if they do they will see the fox may be a wolf instead! The idea is to break through to the Atlantic, disperse, and then we dance with the convoys. The Graf Spee and Admiral Sheer have proved that concept. Now I turn Scharnhorst and Gneisenau loose. Just when they mass their forces to oppose that, the battleships sortie. The convoys are the prize, my friend. They are the real reason for sea control and interdiction.”
“Something tells me that will be my task in the end,” said Doenitz darkly. “And this is what will decide this war, not these surface engagements. If you want my opinion it is all a waste of steel and petrol. Even if you do attempt this dynamic dispersal as you call it, the British have enough forces to still overmatch you.”
“Perhaps, but they are spread thin as matters stand. Their battleships are old and slow. They play nursemaid to the merchantmen half the time and have but a handful of ships with the speed to catch our forces if we break out into the Atlantic, and some of those are their older battlecruisers—no match for a ship like Bismarck, let alone Hindenburg.”
“Don’t be so sure, Raeder.” Doenitz wagged a finger at him now. “A 15-inch shell is a 15-inch shell, and if it hits one of your nice new shiny ships it will explode just the same.”
“That is the risk we take any time we sail,” Raeder reminded him. “It would be nice if my battleships could slink out beneath the surface like your U-boats, Doenitz, but that is not the case. We may have to fight to break out, yes, this I know. Yet we will hurt the enemy as well, for every hit they score. You must have faith in that.”
Doenitz smiled. “Well, my friend, you realize that we could both be out of a job if this plan fails. Who do we send? Who commands the task groups at sea?
“Lütjens, he’s the only man for the job. I’m giving the battlecruisers to Hoffmann and putting Lütjens aboard Hindenburg. Lindemann will command the Bismarck class units.”
“Lindemann? He’s a Captain. We have Admirals to spare.”
“I want fighting men.” Raeder was not going to turn the operation over to desk Admirals. Let them sit at home as they were accustomed. This was a job for men who knew the sea, and the ships they fought on.
“What about Marschall? He won’t like losing Scharnhorst and Gneisenau.”
“Hoffmann fights, Marschall worries about ammunition and fuel expenditure.”
“And what about Thiele?”
“A good leader, but he’s a cruiser man. I’ll leave him there with the heavy cruisers. That’s where he does the best job.”
There it was, the map, the tiny models of the massive ships sitting there, the men waiting, ready, filled with urgency, and the silence now as the two Admirals reached an end to their meeting. In that silence many things grew, germinated by the memories of that last war. Jellicoe had been waiting for Scheer with the whole Grand Fleet at Jutland the last time the German Navy sortied in earnest. This plan might lead to the largest clash at sea since that time. It could either be a decisive moment that broke the back of the Royal Navy and changed the whole character of the war, or it could be the death ride of the Kriegsmarine, skewered just as it was being born. Neither man could see the outcome, but both men would live with it, one way or another.
“Well, Doenitz, gather your U-boats into a nice tight fist for me when they swing through the Faeroes gap.” Raeder placed his finger on the map, fingering a spot in the Atlantic. “I’ll want them here.”
* * *
“Any idea when we might see Prince of Wales?” Admiral Tovey was also running down his fleet list, checking on every ship he might have available.
“She’ll be a good while, sir,” said Brind. “We’ve only just completed fitting her out. Captain Leach is optimistic that he can resume trials in a few weeks.”
“I’ll want him working out by week’s end.”
“Week’s end sir? They’d have to put to sea with a hundred workmen aboard.”
“Then do so. We’ll need that ship sooner than we may think. Thank God they came off the docks a little early and we even have them this close.”
The King George V Class had been proposed before the 1936 expiration of the Washington Naval Treaty. At that time Britain was attempting to negotiate reduced caliber gun sizes, and proposed a 14-inch maximum for new construction to lead the way. These guns were subsequently ordered and built before Japan and other nations refused to sign on to the idea, and so the ships were under gunned, and with turrets that were overly complex and unreliable. To compensate, however, they were among the best protected battleship designs in the world, with 374mm of new cemented belt armor and excellent anti-torpedo bulwarks and magazine protection. The first two ships in the new class were ready earlier than expected, but still making adjustments and running trials.
“Now… what about Nelson?” Tovey asked about the ships the Navy had built when the much better G3 orders were cancelled after Invincible. They were smaller with a length of only 660 feet, but crowded three triple 16-inch gun turrets forward giving them the heaviest throw weight of any ship in the fleet. Well armored, they were slow as molasses compared to modern ship designs, and capable of only 23 knots.
“Nelson is presently at Greenock completing her refit. They’re running out that new Type 282 radar for trials.”
“Didn’t she get the Type 279?”
“She did sir, and all her other major repairs have been completed at Portsmouth before Jerry bombers made it a little too hot there. So we moved her to Greenock for this last bit of work.”
“Cancel it. Nelson is to make ready to rejoin the fleet here at once. We’ll pair her with Rodney, and the two of them can watch the Shetlands passage. As for Hood, what wrong with the old girl now? Didn’t she just get new tube condensers?”
“That she did, sir. They have her down at Gladstone Dock, Liverpool, with crew just returning from leave. At the moment they are running anti-aircraft and armament drills on the new 4-inch guns that were added, and splashing a bit of paint about. There’s also a plumbing problem aboard, sir.”
“Plumbing?”
“Well it seems the condenser refit damaged a few feeder pipes and they have no working toilet facilities aboard.”
Tovey’s eyes narrowed. “What? See that it is corrected at once. Recall the crew from leave if they aren’t back yet and lay in a fresh stock of ammunition. When they see the lads all lined up at the gangways they’ll bloody well get the toilets fixed. I want Hood back here in 48 hours.”
“But sir… She was scheduled to cover that ANZAC troop convoy, US3, and then after that she’s bound for Gibraltar and the Dakar Operation. We mustn’t forget the French fleet.”
“I’ll need Hood here, Mister Brind. We’re already sending Barham, Resolution and Valiant, and that is all we can spare for the moment.”
“I see… Shall I inform Admiral Somerville, sir? He was set to place his flag aboard Hood at month’s end and is also expecting Ark Royal for Force H.”
“I’m afraid all of that is up in the wind now. I may be biting off more than I can chew, but they’ve handed me the biscuit here and it’s time I take charge. With both Bismar
ck and Tirpitz near Kristiansand there is simply no way I can release Ark Royal and Hood at this time. I’ll need them both here. In fact I’m inclined to hold that new carrier in home waters as well.”
“Illustrious? She was also nominated for service in the Med, sir.”
“Yes, well I’ve already discussed it with Admiral Pound. With Glorious laid up, fleet air cover is rather thin. He’s agreed to allow Illustrious to hang on here for a spell. Tell Admiral Somerville we’ll send Hermes in the short run and then Glorious after they patch her up. Along with Eagle that should fill the bill.”
“Illustrious has taken on aircraft, but she’s still working up at trials, sir.”
“Good enough, but she stays here. Hermes will simply have to do for Force H at the moment. The disposition of the French Fleet has yet to be decided. We still have time to build that force up further, if need be, pending the outcome of that situation.”
That reminded him of something, and he shifted to his dispatches. “See here, Brind. This Lieutenant Commander that brought Glorious home safely, is he still aboard the ship?”
“I believe so, sir. That crew was overdue for leave and they were sent out to Devonport yesterday, but the officers will remain until next weekend.”
“Send for the man. I’d like to speak with him. We'll need good men like that in the days ahead. How long for those repairs?”
“A week to ten days, dir. The bridge needs work, but the real damage was to the forward flight deck. They can’t use the elevators effectively until that’s cleared and patched, and there may be some structural work required there.”
Tovey tapped the desk with his pen, thinking. “The jig is up, Daddy. I can feel it. This time the Germans mean business, and a dirty business it will be. The fleet is to cease lolling about and any ship under repair for any routine maintenance is to be immediately recalled to active duty. Home Fleet will be going to sea. It's time we give Admiral Raeder something to think about as well.”
Kirov Saga: Altered States (Kirov Series) Page 11