Three Kings (Kirov Series)

by John Schettler

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  “We simply must get the navy out in support of Malta,” said Cunningham. “I see no other course. We were damn well chased out of Gibraltar when the Germans hit us there, and to let them pound Malta from the sea unchallenged is simply intolerable. My ships are ready. We were all set to have a go at Taranto, and now the Italians have put to sea. We should be right in their faces, and let them know who they are dealing with.”

  “They won’t be alone,” said Tovey with a guarded edge in his voice. “I was just about to disclose the latest Enigma decrypts we received from Bletchley Park.”

  At this Wavell raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently.

  “As you may have heard, gentlemen, the Germans lately managed to slip two warships past our guard to French ports. When this conference was proposed I met with Admiral Somerville of Force H to aid in the planning of the occupation of the Atlantic islands, operations which we have lately concluded, all while keeping a watchful eye on the German ships at Brest and Saint Nazaire. Well, the foxes have slipped out of their dens. We were led to believe they were being recalled to Germany. Instead they turned south for Gibraltar, and with Somerville covering the operation in the Cape Verde Islands, there was nothing we could do about it. I departed for this conference, and the Germans were kind enough to sit tight at Gibraltar. Now I’m afraid the Germans are on the move again.”

  “In the Atlantic?”

  “No sir, in the Mediterranean…” Tovey let that sit there, allowing Wavell and Cunningham to appreciate the implications. I’ve Admiral Holland back with the Battlecruiser Squadron to look after the North Atlantic. Now, however, we have a new problem on our hands. The French pulled out of Dakar and reestablished their Atlantic Force de Raid at Casablanca—absent one ship, the battleship Normandie. It has moved into the Mediterranean as well, along with the German ships from Gibraltar, the Bismarck and Hindenburg. I must now report that these ships are moving east. Something is afoot, gentlemen, and this news of the attack on Malta is the root of it all. The reinforcement of your fleet is timely with the arrival of Invincible here.”

  “Indeed,” said Admiral Cunningham. “This news, coupled with movement out of Toulon by the French squadron there, and movement by the Italians out of Taranto—well I’m afraid we have a real nightmare on our hands at the moment.”

  “Correct,” said Tovey. “We now know that the battlecruisers Strasbourg and Dunkerque have sailed with that squadron from Toulon, and the Italians have sortied with at least three of the five battleships they had at Taranto. Simply counting the capital ships, we now find ourselves outnumbered two to one, even with Invincible thrown on the scales.”

  “Welcome to the party, gentlemen,” said Wavell. “Our situation at sea is as precarious as our prospects for reinforcing Greece while trying to hold off the Germans in the Western Desert.”

  “Precisely,” said Tovey. “You have not yet started moving troops to Greece, though I see the shipping gathered here in the harbor to do exactly that. I must tell you, General Wavell, that given these movements on the part of the enemy at sea, I do not believe the navy can dispose to cover your planned reinforcement operation for Greece until we can achieve at least parity with the enemy. Admiral Cunningham’s plan to catch them napping at Taranto was our bid to go one up on the Italians. Now, however, with the French and Germans weighing in, the whole balance of the war at sea in the Mediterranean is now on the fire. Naval supremacy would be much preferred for your movement to Greece, but being outnumbered eight to four in capital ships at the moment, we cannot give you that luxury, nor any assurance that your divisions will ever reach Greece safely.”

  Tovey had played his hand, and Wavell listened, realizing that naval operations were at the heart of the matter, in spite of what Churchill wanted now, or what he had determined to do himself. If he could not move his divisions safely, then they would simply have to stay where they were.

  “Well,” he said quietly. “These developments will force me to wait. Mister Churchill won’t like it, but I shall have to hold the ANZAC divisions here in Egypt for the time being. Yet given that order of battle you have just handed me on the German strength in the Balkans, it appears we will not have much time at all. As to the movement of the Italian ships, I must leave that to the Royal Navy. I’ll have enough to deal with on the ground in Libya.”

  “We’ll deal with the Italians easily enough,” said Cunningham, his confidence unbowed.

  “We must also consider the French and German squadrons,” Said Tovey.

  “Yes, but at the moment those ships are still well west of Sicily. If we make a hard run at Malta now, the Italians will have to cover this German parachute operation, and come looking for us.”

  “That they will,” Tovey shrugged. “They’ll have six battleships at sea now from this latest report. Duilio and Andria Doria have just left Taranto.”

  “And we’ll have four. Good enough.” Cunningham was ready for a fight, though he knew the odds were against them now, an unusual situation for the powerful Royal Navy.

  Tovey was more cautious. “Now we see the hardship imposed on us with the loss of Gibraltar,” he said grimly. “Somerville would normally be in the Western Mediterranean with three more battleships in Force H, and we always had two good arms when we thought to spar with the Italians. Now we’re fighting with one arm tied behind our backs., and two other fellows have jumped in the ring! There is no way we can expect help from Force H. Even if Somerville could run the Straits of Gibraltar and survive the thickets of U-boats and Stukas there, he would soon find himself facing the entire French Squadron at Toulon, lately reinforced by the battleship Normandie from Casablanca. Throw Bismarck and Hindenburg into the mix and any sortie on his part would be suicidal. So we’re in this fight alone here, gentlemen, and as I count it now, we will be outnumbered eleven capital ships to four adding in both Strasbourg and Dunkerque, and two to one in cruisers and destroyers.”

  There was a long silence and Cunningham folded his arms, looking at the map. The second knock on the cabin door seemed loud when the adjutant came again with another message. Wavell took it and read quietly, expecting it was an update on the situation on Malta, but seeing more bad news instead. He cleared his throat, and the other men looked up from the map, waiting.

  “Well,” he began. “It seems we have lost our General O’Connor.”

  Nikolin had been quietly translating all this, whispering near Fedorov, who shrugged when he heard this news. He knew that O’Connor had been captured during Rommel’s advance, just as he was about to turn operations over to General Neame. He had hoped to prevent that at this meeting, but it seemed fate had a way of keeping its hand on the back of a man’s neck, no matter what world he served in. Yet this time the news was different.

  “O’Connor’s plane ran afoul of a German fighter and was damaged,” said Wavell. “They ran south into the desert to evade and were forced to make an emergency landing somewhere north of the oasis country near Giarabub and Siwa. The Italians still have troops at Giarabub, and we have a few patrols operating out of Siwa. We got one radio message, then lost contact. The good news is that O’Connor is alive, but given his circumstances surviving out there in the desert is no easy matter. The Italians might be also out looking for the plane if they saw it go down. I would hate to lose a man like O’Connor, but his chances may be very slim.”

  Fedorov’s eyes brightened at this, a quiet fire there, and he whispered in Admiral Volsky’s ear, an urgent tone in his voice that even Wavell could pick up from where he stood across the table. On the spur of the moment, he had come up with another of his crazy ideas.

  Chapter 21

  “This news seems to have your interest,” Wavell said in Russian, catching Fedorov’s eye.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said Fedorov. “After such a brilliant campaign against the Italians it would seem a cruel fate to lose General O’Connor at a time like this.”

  “That it would,” said Wavell. “I shall have to m
ake arrangements to see that General Neame hangs on to what is left of the Western Desert Force. This General Rommel has moved like quicksilver, and stolen back everything O’Connor had in hand after his operation out west. Losing O’Connor will be salt in the wound, but we may be deprived of his services for some good while.”

  Now Admiral Volsky cleared his throat, speaking up.

  “Well, he said quietly. “Then we must do something about this situation. Yes? I have some very good men aboard my ship, and the means to get them anywhere in the desert in a matter of hours.”

  “A matter of hours?” Wavell smiled politely. “The desert is quite extensive out west, Admiral. It is well over 250 miles to Giarabub from Alexandria, and given the terrain and lack of useful roads, that is a journey of many days.”

  “I can put men on the ground there today if you wish. We can go by aircraft.”

  “By air? I suppose you could fly into Siwa, but we have a patrol there from our Long Range Desert Group. Perhaps they could handle the matter and spare you the trouble. The Italians have a few fighters at Giarabub that could cause problems for any air search we attempt. That said, it could take days or weeks for desert patrols to locate O’Connor’s plane.”

  Volsky smiled. “We can find it by nightfall. We have some special equipment we can use to conduct a search for this aircraft. It will stand out as a heat source in the desert, will it not? We have equipment that can find it, even at night. As for the Italian fighter planes, they will pose no threat. Our aircraft can make use of the rockets we demonstrated earlier, and defend itself quite easily.”

  Wavell raised an eyebrow at this, somewhat surprised. “Well… if you’d care to have a go at it, I can send word to my people at Siwa to expect company. I don’t wish to sound discouraging, but it may be more difficult to locate this plane than you believe, Admiral.”

  “We have a way of overcoming such difficulties, General Wavell. I will give the order for the search and rescue operation to proceed at once. Mister Fedorov? You seem very eager to see General O’Connor safely returned to the fold here. This sounds like a good job for our Sergeant Troyak and the KA-40. Please handle the matter for me.”

  “Thank you, sir. I would be honored.”

  “And as to your other problem,” Volsky now turned to Admiral Tovey where he was still consulting the map with Cunningham. “It would seem that my ship is available to help you even those odds.”

  Tovey looked over his shoulder, then turned to face the Russians with a grateful nod. “I thank you for the offer,” he said. “Yet we still have that delicate political issue to consider—a Russian ship pulled into the conflict when your own country has not yet openly declared war on Germany, let alone Italy. If you were to become an active combatant here that could cause… difficulties.”

  “True,” said Volsky, “but I have given this some thought since our last discussion when you informed me of your Admiralty’s decision to relieve our watch on the Denmark Strait. It seems the whole question comes down to the flag flying from our main mast out there, and it occurred to me that is something that can be easily changed.”

  Wavell needed no translation to realize what Volsky was suggesting now. His instincts were as good as his Russian, and he immediately knew that Volsky was offering to re-flag his ship under British colors.

  “Your government would permit this?” he said directly to Volsky.

  “This may come as a surprise to you and others here,” said Volsky, “but while I am empowered to represent the interests of Sergei Kirov’s Soviet Russia, I also remain an independent force de jure, as the French might put things. I can act on my own accord, and exercise my own judgment here. It was my intention to attend this meeting as an observer and advisor, yet the situation you describe seems quite dire. How can I claim to stand with you as an ally, and yet stand aside when it comes to battle, particularly in a situation like this?”

  “Your government makes the claim of alliance with Great Britain,” said Wavell directly in Russian. “Are you saying they have empowered you to assume the role of an active combatant?”

  Volsky knew this question would arise, and he had informed Sergei Kirov that it might be necessary to take a more active stance in the war. Kirov had simply replied: “Do what you must. We stand ready, and if the Germans want to do anything about it, let them try.” Volsky knew that he could not tell Wavell he was operating independently of the Soviet government without raising suspicions and questions he would rather not answer here, so he and Sergei Kirov had determined what he might do—re-flag the ship.

  “The Americans have lately sold you a number of destroyers for use in the Atlantic, have they not?” Volsky smiled. “Consider this an offer to lend the Royal Navy the support of my ship—all authorized by my government. Think of it as a kind of lend lease. The only condition I impose will be that my vessel remains under my direct command, crewed by my men as it stands. Otherwise, I am willing to re-flag and fight in cooperation with your Royal Navy, and I think I can even the odds considerably in this grave hour.”

  “A very generous offer,” said Cunningham. “Yet that makes it eleven to five in capital ships. You realize what you now propose, Admiral Volsky? If we choose to fight here, we do so with the intention of placing our entire force at considerable risk. I assume the Admiralty has no qualms about that?” Now he looked to Tovey, lately dispatched by their Lordships at Whitehall.

  “If they had any hesitation, our Mister Churchill has beaten that out of them by now.” At this they all smiled, for they knew, without any doubt, that Churchill would be the first to demand the Royal Navy now beat to quarters and come to the defense of Malta.

  “Yes,” said Cunningham. “Churchill will raise the flag high and sound the trumpets in the House of Commons, but it will be our ships and guns on the line, and our crews at battle stations here. I remain assured that every man will do his utmost, but I am a realist as well. Even with your ship thrown in, odds are that we may face certain defeat, no matter what we do.”

  “Which leads us to the question of whether we should spend the coin we have in hand now on Malta, or save it for a darker hour that may yet come.” Wavell raised the one question that had not yet been considered. “You have just informed me that we haven’t the strength to guarantee the safety of our planned reinforcement of Greece. Remember also that my force here relies on a supply line stretching over 12,000 miles by sea. And we also have troops on Crete and Cyprus that will need to be supported. If we lose what naval power we now have, those islands will be in jeopardy as well.”

  “True,” said Tovey. “If the Germans are now planning to move on the Middle East, then we must preserve a strong naval presence in the Eastern Mediterranean. We must have the means of preventing the Germans from projecting power against Egypt and Palestine, and the islands you mention, General Wavell. The navy is the one tool for that job. If we use it now in defense of Malta we must be resolute, but ever mindful of the consequences should we lose our battle. I remind you that things have not gone as well for the Royal Navy as we might have expected. Our initial encounter with the Germans in the North set us back for some months. We only now have the services of the Battlecruiser Squadron and Admiral Holland on that watch, and thank God for King George V and Prince of Wales, now that we have those ships at sea. Yet we remain spread very thin. Somerville needs all of Force H just to keep an eye on the two French battleships still at Casablanca. We will need everything we have here to save Egypt and Palestine. So I put it to you all—should we fight now? The consequences of a defeat here will have dramatic repercussions.”

  Tovey left that in the silence as each man considered the situation. The Royal Navy had always been the master of the seas, and could presume to back down any other navy in a one on one conflict. Yet the actions against the new Kriegsmarine, and off Dakar against the French, had exposed a weakness in the fleet that was of some concern.

  The Royal Navy was aging, with 80% of its ships still dating from the last wa
r, many which had seen service with Jellicoe and Beatty at Jutland. Where it had the speed to catch its foe at sea, the armor was thin, except on HMS Invincible. Where it had the guns and armor to stand in any good fight, the battleships were slow, and could be easily out maneuvered by the fast new ships of their enemies. There were too few ships combining the speed and power necessary to prevail in the new war at sea, and the Invincible could not be everywhere.

  “Well,” said Admiral Volsky. “The consequences of a defeat would be too severe to contemplate. So the solution is a simple one. We will win. Yes. I have an answer for you, Admiral Tovey. We will not be defeated. I will give orders that my ship be made ready for action immediately, and if you would be so kind as to entrust me with your naval ensign, I will proudly raise it and stand with you, here and now. We will fight and we will win. Of this I have no doubt.”

  Tovey was the only other man in the room who knew that Admiral Volsky’s words were no idle boast. “That’s the spirit,” he said quickly. Cunningham nodded his approval.

  “We thank you for your offer,” said Tovey, “and I will accept it and be grateful if you would receive my own naval standard as a way of welcoming you to the fleet. It is no ordinary ensign. In fact, it was flown by our very own Horatio Nelson at Trafalgar, and I have been privileged to raise it on my mainmast aboard Invincible. Now I am honored to offer it to you in trade for your able services, and I know it will be in good hands.”

  Volsky fully appreciated the significance of this offer, and knew the history that had been sewn into that flag over many centuries. “The honor is mine,” he said. “And whenever you see that ensign raised on my mainmast, you will be looking at HMS Kirov.” He smiled, extending his hand, which Tovey shook with eager warmth.

  “There we are,” said Wavell. “A rescue operation for General O’Connor, and a new ship for His Majesty’s Fleet. I’d say that is a favorable turn of affairs given all this bad news of late. As for this search and rescue operation, I have a man I should like you to meet, Admiral Volsky, a man named Vladimir Peniakoff. We call him Popski, as most have trouble with his real name. He’s a bit of a self styled soul, expert in special operations in the desert, and he has a private little army of like minded fellows that may come in very handy during this mission you are planning.”