Hechler lowered his binoculars and glanced at Theil and the others. Theil was furious, too angry perhaps to notice the coincidence. The anti-aircraft battery had been haphazard, just as the fighter cover had been far too late to do anything.
It was as if they had been ordered to hold back. If that was so, it meant just one thing. Headquarters wanted the enemy to know they were here. It was like being in the dark. Being told only a part of von Hanke's strategy. Hechler tried to shrug it off. It was not the first time that air defences had been caught napping. He pictured the admiral in his winged collar, the dry grip of his hands. Von Hanke of all people would know each step before it was made. Just as he had known about the army division which existed only on his map. How many more divisions or battalions were represented only by coloured markers and flags? A million men lay dead from the last campaign. How many more were there now? He tried to dispel the sudden apprehension, the sense of danger.
'Aircraft at green one-one-oh, angle of sight one-oh!'
The gunnery speaker snapped into life. 'Disregard! Aircraft friendly!'
Some of the seamen grinned with nervous relief, but Hechler crossed the bridge to watch the float-plane as it left the land's protection and followed its own reflection across the flat water.
He snapped, 'I want to see that pilot as soon as he comes aboard! We may be short of a plane and the man to fly it, but by God I'll send him back double-quick unless he can explain himself!'
All the smiles were gone now. Even young Jaeger had enough experience to realise the cause of the captain's cool anger. If there had been a proper air attack, especially by carrier-borne torpedo bombers, the Arado replacement would have been right in the middle of it, and Kroll's flak gunners would have had to hold their fire or shoot it down with the attackers.
Fall out action stations.' Hechler controlled his anger.
Moments later the guardrails were thronged with men again as the new float-plane made a perfect landing and then taxied towards the anchored cruiser.
Theil dropped his glasses. 'Extra passenger, sir.' He bit his lip. it looks like the rear-admiral.'
Even as the plane glided towards the side Hechler saw Leitner grinning up at them, before removing his flying helmet to don his oak-leaved cap.
He said, 'I don't care if it's Christ Almighty. That was a damn stupid thing to do!'
Hechler was as much concerned at his own anger as he was about the admiral's unorthodox arrival. Was it because there were so many questions still unanswered? If they engaged one of the British convoys for instance. Would Rau's Liibeck be able to withdraw safely? That, almost more than the mission itself, had filled him with uncertainty.
Followed by Theil he hurried from the bridge and down to the catapult, where a side-party had been hastily assembled.
Leitner pulled himself up from the Arado without waiting for it to be hoisted aboard. He was flushed and excited, and could barely stop himself from laughing aloud at Hechler's grave features. Together they watched the plane being hoisted up the side, water spilling from the floats as the handling party used their guy-ropes t o sway it round. The Arado was brand-new, and bore no camouflage paint. As it came to rest on the catapult before being manhandled inboard Hechler saw the bright red stripe on the side. Like something from the Great War, he thought grimly.
Leitner stood with his arms folded, still dressed in a white flying suit, his cap at a rakish angle as he had appeared many times in the newspapers.
Hechler watched the pilot and observer climb down to the deck and then said, 'I'll see you later. You might have got your arse shot off!'
The pilot turned and stared at him and then pulled off the black helmet goggles.
Hechler stared as a mass of auburn hair tumbled over the other man's shoulders.
The admiral made a last effort to contain his amusement and said, 'Captain, may I introduce Erika Franke. One of the finest pilots in the Third Reich, I believe!'
She eyed him without curiosity, her lips slightly parted as she shook out her hair from her flying suit.
'Quite a welcome, Captain.' She did not offer her hand.
Hechler could feel the side-party's astonishment giving way to broad grins, and Theil's pink-faced disbelief that this had happened.
Hechler looked at the admiral. What I said still goes, sir.'
She was watching him, amused or merely bored he could not tell.
Erika Franke, of course. Her father had been an ace pilot who had died in attempting a lone flight across a desert in Africa. She had won several prizes within a year of obtaining her licence. And she had even made her name in the war when she had flown into an encircled army position in Italy to rescue one of the Fiihrer's top advisers before the whole place had been overrun.
He said, 'I am not used to -' It sounded defensive, foolish.
She turned away to watch as the two fighters came roaring back across the water.
'Evidently, Captain. We must try to change that, mustn't we?'
Leitner clapped him on the shoulder.
It will be a different war, Dieter.' He became serious again. For all of us, yes?'
The girl turned and looked at them calmly. 'I'd like to change and have a shower, if I may.' She touched her upper lip with her tongue. 'Even at the risk of getting my, er, arse shot off, eh?'
Hans Stoecker in his best uniform with a bolstered Luger at his belt stood nervously outside the wardroom. He felt on edge, unable to concentrate on anything, even the prospect of meeting Sophie again.
It was all so strange and unreal, he thought, after the patrols and bombardments., the wild elation of watching from his position high above the bridge when the main armament had fired on I he enemy.
The wardroom throbbed with music, and was packed from side to side with officers and visitors alike. Like the peacetime navy must have been, he thought, without fear of a sudden air-attack or torpedo.
With the rear-admiral's flag hoisted over the ship everyone had expected things to move swiftly, that the Prinz would head out to sea again.
He recalled seeing the girl pilot as she had climbed down from the catapult. Like most of the company he had read of her exploits, especially the last one when she had flown through enemy flak to lift off an important politician. Stoecker did not really like the idea of women in the firing line, but after meeting Sophie he was not certain of anything. She was not a schoolgirl any more. She was a woman, and had probably seen more results of war than he had.
Now he had two secrets to hold. One was the letter, still unopened. He had nearly destroyed it several times but something made him hold back. The other secret was what Sophie had told him.
She was ordered to a hospital in Norway. Suppose it was where they were based? They would meet again. Like that last time when they had kissed and clutched each other, hearts pounding while they had tasted a new and delicate love.
A curtain swirled back and Leutnant zur See Konrad Jaeger stepped over the coaming. He took a pistol from the rack and clipped it around his waist.
He grimaced as a great burst of laughter came from beyond him.
'Time for rounds, Stoecker. Others have all the luck.'
It would take all of an hour to go round the flats and messes, to check padlocks and magazine and to sign all the log-sheets. By the time they had finished some of the guests would have left.
Stoecker nodded to a boatswain's mate and messenger who were waiting to accompany the young officer on his rounds. There was a faint smell of schnapps in the damp air, and he hoped laeger had not noticed it. He was a good officer, for a one-striper that was. But he'd come down on Stoecker if he found someone had been drinking on watch.
Jaeger was not aware of the acting petty officer's wary glance. He was thinking of the wardroom party, the first one he had ever attended in a real combat warship. The Prinz was famous; you couid see the excitement, even awe, on the faces of the guests, and especially the women. The admiral must have a lot of influence even in that direction, he
decided. There were lots of women aboard, and most appeared to be German except for the wives of some local officials.
Preceded by the boatswain's mate, Jaeger and his little party climbed to the cooler air of the quarterdeck, where Korvetten-kapitan Froebe was waiting by the accommodation ladder to welcome guests below the shaded police lights.
It was a rare sight, and Jaeger paused to watch as two women in long, colourful dresses with some officers from the airfield stood by the guardrails, their hair moving in the evening breeze, their eyes exploring the ship.
Jaeger thought of the young girl he had met in the wardroom. It was unlikely he would get a look-in there, he thought. Hampe, the torpedo officer and a well-known womaniser, had been watching them, waiting for rounds to be called. For him to leave.
A figure moved from the shadows and Jaeger called his men to attention.
The captain touched his cap and smiled. 'Hard luck, Jaeger, but rank has its privileges, you see.'
Jaeger grinned. He could recall standing like a ramrod at attention for minutes on end in his last ship, where he had completed his training. That captain had been a tyrant, a bully you would never want to speak to even if it had been allowed.
Hechler was so different. Did he never have any worries or doubts?
Hechler saw the youngster's glance in spite of the gloom. He had also noticed the faint tang of schnapps. That would be the boatswain's mate. His mother and sister had just been reported killed in an air raid. He would let it pass. Hechler strode on, half-dreading the party and Leitner's exuberance. This time, he would say nothing.
Theil was waiting to meet him outside the wardroom and Hechler asked, ‘All going well?'
Theil nodded. 'Like old times.'
Hechler stepped into the wardroom and moved through the packed figures. It was hard to see this place as it usually was, or used as a sickbay for wounded troops brought offshore from the I ighting.
He sensed the glances and the occasional bold stares from some ol the women. Why should he feel so ill at ease? This might be the last time for a long while that they could relax and drink too much. It could just as easily be the last time ever.
He heard a woman laugh and saw the auburn hair shining beneath a deckhead light.
Erika Franke wore neither a gown nor a uniform, it was something in between, dove-grey which set off her hair and her skin. She was speaking with Zeckner, a quarters officer, so that I lechler made to step aside before she saw him.
He was still uncertain what to do. Leitner had explained that t he orders came from von Hanke and even higher. Erika Franke was to stay aboard. Incredibly, there was also a camera team. That in itself was not unusual in major warships, but with the prospect of immediate action it could put their lives at risk. 1 .eitner seemed to treat the whole matter like a personal publicity operation.
She called, 'Why, Captain, so you have come amongst us after all!'
He faced her, surprised and angry at the way she got under his skin and made him feel clumsy.
He said, 'I hope you are being looked after?' She had long lashes and eyes which seemed to change colour as he watched. Hazel and then tawny.
She smiled. 'You are staring, Captain.'
Hechler took a glass of champagne which someone thrust into his hand.
'Yes. I'm sorry.' He raised the glass and lowered it again. 'And I apologise for the way I greeted your arrival on board.'
She touched her lip with her tongue as she had when she had faced him at their first meeting.
That must have cost you a lot, Captain.' She nodded, her eyes grave. 'I suspect you are not used to bending your knee.' The smile moved into her eyes again. 'Especially to a mere woman.'
Leitner joined them before Hechler could answer. He said, 'Good party. It will make everyone believe we are here as a part of a local squadron.' He beamed and showed his perfect teeth. 'Let them all relax and enjoy themselves, eh? Who cares about tomorrow?'
Theil was making signals from the door and Leitner remarked, 'A night full of surprises. As it should be.'
Hechler glanced past the noisy, laughing figures and saw her as she stepped over the coaming. He felt as if his breath had stopped, that even his heart was still.
Her hair was quite short so that her small, perfectly shaped ears were visible, as were the pendant earrings as she turned to look around.
Several officers stopped talking to stare, questions clear on their faces.
Hechler put down his glass. Inger had always commanded a lot of attention, like the first time he had seen her and lost his heart.
She had an escort, a much older man in an olive-green uniform, a political officer of some kind and obviously quite senior. That too was pretty typical, he thought bitterly.
Leitner was watching him, one eyebrow cocked. 'She asked to come.' He spread his hands with mock gravity. 'What must I do? How could anyone refuse her?'
'Your wife, Captain?'
Hechler looked at the girl with auburn hair. He felt suddenly lost. Trapped.
He said, 'Yes.'
'She is very beautiful.' But she was studying him, her eyes quiet with interest. 'You seem surprised?'
Leitner smiled. 'It is only right, Dieter.'
Hechler said, 'She has no place here.'
Biit she was coming across, men parting before her or trying to catch her glance.
She wore a red silk gown with thin shoulder straps. It was cut very low both front and back and Hechler guessed that she wore little if anything underneath it.
She presented her hand for him to take and kiss. Even that was perfectly done. The perfume on her skin, it too he could recall as if it were yesterday.
Leitner was shaking hands with her escort, but Hechler did not even catch his name. It was as it nothing had happened, that the
fire still burned. The touch of her hand, the movement of her breasts which were barely concealed by the red silk, seemed to render him helpless.
He knew Theil and some of the others were watching. They were learning more about their captain every day. Why had she come?
She said softly, 'You look tired, Dieter. Doing too much.' She observed him calmly. 'As always.’ Her eyes moved to the girl. And who is this?'
Erika Franke met her gaze, unruffled by the casual but faintly imperious tone.
She replied, 'I work here.' She gave a quick smile. 'I shall go and enjoy myself.'
Inger watched her leave and said, 'That's the flier. I thought I knew her.' She seemed to relax. 'She's been in some bother, I believe.'
Hechler did not want to discuss it. 'I was not expecting -'
‘That is evident.' She smiled and touched his cheek but her eyes were quite cool. 'No matter. You are a man, a hero, some say.'
Leitner had moved away and was in deep conversation with her escort. The latter was staring across, unwilling to be shelved so soon.
Hechler felt the old anger again. Why should he have to put up with it?
Theil was watching too, although he was at some pains to cover it.
He heard himself ask, 'Why here and now, Inger? It's over.'
'You think so?' She rested one hand on his sleeve and touched the four gold stripes. 'You need me. You always will. Nothing's changed.' She seemed to become impatient and thrust her hand beneath his arm. 'Can we talk? In private?'
Hechler heard the lively dance strike up as another record was put on the gramophone and was grateful for the interruption. Voices grew louder and some of the guests began to revolve although there was barely room to move. Perspiring stewards and messmen pushed amongst the throng with laden trays of glasses. This evening was going to cost the wardroom a small lortune.
She said, 'Your cabin?' She looked up at him, her eyes steady, her lips shining, inviting.
They walked along the deck, the noise growing fainter as if the ship was reasserting herself, rising above them, grey steel and hooded guns.
Once she turned and looked across at the darkening water, the thin white line of
a motor-launch's wake.
He asked, 'What about your friend?'
She shrugged. Even that motion stabbed him like a knife.
'Ludwig? He is head of a mission here, something to do with fisheries, I think. Don't worry about him.'
The cabin was quiet, with a tidiness which showed Pirk had been busy clearing up from the last official visitors. But there was some champagne and two glasses, as if it had all been planned. She saw his expression and said, Thank you, I should like some.'
He could feel her watching as he opened the bottle and wiped it free of ice. She never looked tired; he could not recall her ever refusing an invitation to a party or a reception. Like the time he had returned home with the knowledge he was being given Prinz Luitpold. He had been in bed reading when he had heard her come into the house, then the sound of men's voices.
When he had gone down he had found her in the arms of an artillery major, while another officer was on his knees beside a girl w'ho had obviously passed out with drink. The man had been tearing the clothes off her, stripping her naked while Inger and her friend ignored what he was doing.
Somehow, he could barely recall how, they had made it up. She had even been excited when he had thrown the others out of the house, had pleaded for his forgiveness and then given herself to him with such wild abandon that he had surrendered.
Looking back he must have been mad. But he had loved her then. Hechler turned with the glasses. He still wanted her. Was that the same thing?
He sat beside her, feeling the longing and the pain of it as he studied her face and her mouth. When she took his hand and put it around her breast he could feel the drumming in his mind, could think of nothing but taking her, here and now. As Leitner had said, who cares about tomorrow?
She stretched out and put down her glass so that one shoulder strap slipped away and her breast was almost lying bare in his hand. She watched his face as if to test each emotion there and said, 'You are sailing soon. Why else would Andreas invite me?'
He should have guessed that Leitner was behind it. It was a game to him. He used people with little thought for what might happen.
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