"What is this?"
"It looks like a lake, Reghaïa."
"How would we use the bay?"
"You see here, there is a spit of land. It is like a tiny island. It is just sixty or so yards from the beach. The point is we could shelter there and use the sand to hide the diesel. We would have to arrive at night and bury the drums of fuel. We just dig them up when we need them."
"Bury?"
"We have plenty of men with broad backs. We could do that."
I leaned back, "What else do you know about the operation?"
He held up his hands, "That is all I know. The Captain friend of mine just knew of the theatre of operations and our logistical needs; nothing more."
"Then we go and see Major Foster as soon as we get back. I do not like this working in the dark. This operation seems a little too vague for my liking."
Alan laughed as he threw the stub of the cheroot over the side, "Actually Tom, I thought you and your chaps were in your element when you were in the dark."
"You might be right."
Major Foster knew that something was wrong when he looked at my face. The two of us had used a car to get to the camp as soon as we had docked. As a working up exercise it had been perfect and we could now tweak various features of the boat to make life more bearable.
"This looks ominous, Tom. Is it a mutiny?"
"No, sir but we would like more information."
"Well you have pre-empted my request for a meeting. Sergeant Major!"
Sergeant Major Dean came in with a sheaf of papers and maps. "Here you are sir. I will bring a brew in. This looks like a long meeting."
"Sir down, you chaps and make yourself comfortable. I don't need to tell you that this is top secret." We nodded.
Sergeant Major Dean brought in the tea. "I'll make sure you aren't disturbed, sir."
When the door was closed Major Foster continued, "There will be three invasion forces. One will sail from the US and will land on the Atlantic coast of Africa. The other two will sail from England. You will precede all of these troop convoys. Materiel is being gathered in Gib and you and your E-Boat will be with one of the smaller convoys. It will be mutually beneficial. You can hide among the merchant ships and escorts and you can be used to protect the convoy too. Once you reach Gibraltar you will work with SOE. They have agents and operatives in Spain and Africa. There is a liaison officer, Lieutenant Hugo Ferguson. He will work exclusively with you. Whatever you want then he gets for you." Major Foster smiled as he took a swallow of the tea. "Major Fleming was impressed by your work and he has made this a high priority. If you want it then you get it."
"So Major Fleming is now in command, sir?"
"Let us say he has the ear of Lord Mountbatten and has been impressed by your work thus far."
Alan nodded, "Tom and I were saying that we need somewhere on the African mainland where we can store fuel. If we have to keep coming back to Gibraltar then it will limit our theatre of operations."
"Good idea." He scribbled something on his notepad. "I will let him know you need a small, local ship to transport fuel. Now the convoy leaves Southampton five days from now. The Quartermaster and his chaps have all of your desert gear and he has plenty of ammunition for you. Whatever you need then take now for you will be a long way from a supply base."
"We will have to forage eh sir."
"That's the spirit. Oh and one more thing. This is my last operation with you chaps. I am being sent to London to work on... well you don't need to know but I wanted to thank you both for doing all that I have asked and more." He reached over and shook our hands.
"It's been almost three years sir, that I have worked with you, it will seem strange having a different superior officer."
He leaned back and put his hands behind his head, "Well until Operation Torch is over and Africa liberated you will be operating almost without an officer to give you orders. Lieutenant Ferguson will just pass on targets sent by Major Fleming and you chaps will decide how best to carry them out."
"Who will replace you here, sir?"
"I am not certain. Probably Captain Marsden. He has tired of training recruits up in Scotland."
I breathed a sigh of relief. I had dreaded them bringing in someone new. The last time they had done that, with Captain Grenville, it had been a disaster. Major Foster stood and handed the charts and maps to Alan and the smaller bundle of documents to me.
"Tom, when you have read and memorised these destroy them. Keep it all in your head. Good luck. I daresay we will be working together again. I shall be with Lord Louis and he likes to keep an eye on you pair. Regard this as a secondment to help clear the Med, eh?"
"Yes sir and it has been a pleasure."
As we headed back to the boat Alan said, "That all sounded a little final didn't it?"
"The war is moving on but I will miss Major Foster. You could trust him."
"Well the good news is that we are our own bosses! I like that!"
"Don't forget Alan, that means we might be left to hang out on the breeze; we will not have the RAF to come at our beck and call. If this is an American operation they will give help to their own chaps first!"
"Well you are a cheery fellow aren't you? I think this will be an adventure!"
"A word of warning, Alan, I don't know about the German Navy but the Afrika Korps and Rommel are the best the Germans have. Do not underestimate them."
The next five days passed in a blur. We all had new gear to collect and then find space to store it on the boat. If we thought it was cosy before then it became positively claustrophobic when the ammunition and spare weapons were added. It was little better when we returned to the digs. Mrs Bailey was perpetually tearful. Peter's death had shaken her and now we were all leaving. Reg spent more time than enough with his arm around her shoulders. I realised, as Mrs Bailey dabbed another handkerchief to her face that I needed to speak with Mum. I took the car and headed back to the camp after dark. The duty clerk vacated the office and I telephoned home.
"This is a nice surprise Tom! Are you coming home on leave again?"
"No, Mum, it is just that I am going to be unable to write or telephone for some time." I heard the hint of a sigh at the other end. "Nothing for you to worry about but I didn't want you fretting because I couldn't write you a letter."
There was a pause, "Does your Dad know?"
"No, I shall telephone him after this." There was another silence. "Are you all right Mum?"
I heard the catch in her voice, which she covered with a cough, "I am fine. Don't worry about me. I should be used to this by now. At least I get a phone call now. In the Great War I never knew what your father was up to. Thanks for telephoning."
The operator came on, "This line should be used only for important calls."
Mum snapped back, "And you shouldn't be listening!"
There was a click. "I had better ring Dad. You take care Mum. Love you."
I heard a sob and she said, brokenly, "And I love you my dear boy!"
Dad's call was easier and more businesslike. "I think I know what this is about son. You take care but I think you will be able to handle it. I'll try to keep an eye on you, from afar so to speak."
"Mum was upset."
"She always is. I will be home again this weekend. You watch out for yourself. You can't do it all on your own."
For some reason I felt empty as I headed back to the digs. The phone calls had felt like goodbye and final. Was it a sign?
Ours was a small convoy. There were ten merchant vessels. Some had tanks, some fuel and the others had the vital supplies that Malta, Gibraltar and the invasion force would need. The escorts were led by the destroyer 'Viperous', two corvettes, 'Jasmine' and 'Columbine', a tug and us. Fifteen ships and we had to navigate the coast of France which was filled with German aeroplanes and submarines. Alan was summoned aboard the destroyer to be briefed by Captain Barraclough, the escort commander.
Alan had mixed feelings when he returned. "He
seems like a good bloke. He is regular Navy and not Wavy Navy but we have orders to follow and a position in the convoy. 'Viperous' sails at the front with the two corvettes on each flank. We are at the rear with the tug. We travel at the speed of my dowager aunt!"
I laughed, "What did you expect? Free rein to roam the seas."
"It would be nice!"
The merchant ships sailed in two parallel lines. We had Coastal Command air cover for half of the voyage. Sunderlands would take it in turns to watch for submarines. I saw why we were at the rear, even if Alan couldn't. We had no ASDIC. We could not spot submarines. Our job was to use our speed and rescue any who were torpedoed. We had scrambling nets rigged and ready to be used. I had prevailed upon Alan to have Bill Leslie and Bill Hay on the same watch. I was keen for a bond to be built there. I trusted my old comrade. He would make Corporal Hay less wary. Granddad had been a horseman and he had told me how you had to be both patient and gentle with a skittish horse which had been frightened. Perhaps it would be the same with Bill Hay.
I had done this journey twice before but that had been in a Sunderland and over with in eight hours. By the end of the first day we could still see the coast of England behind us. Admittedly it was a thin smudge on the horizon but it was a warning of our speed. We travelled with gun crews closed up. We had taken the other two MG 39/41 from the stores. It would be easier for us to replace that ammunition than .303 and we knew we might need the firepower of the powerful German guns. We had set them up on the bridge and moved the Lewis guns further aft. We bristled with weapons. We even had depth charges.
It was day two of our voyage, when we were well out to sea that we had our first scare. A Kondor circled high in the sky. The Sunderland bravely climbed to scare it away but by the time it had reached the correct altitude the German had gone. Our position was marked. Would it be a wolf pack or a flock of bombers?
We were answered three hours later. The Sunderland had just returned north and its relief had not yet arrived. We were without air cover. Despite our captain altering course the Ju 88s found us. There were five of them. The yeoman said, "Captain D orders zig zag pattern C sir."
"Righto. Let's hope the tug knows his right from his left or this could be a short voyage." The tug also had antiaircraft capabilities. This would be an early trial of our ability to defend ourselves.
I wondered if they would bomb us from a height or dive bomb us. If they had dropped their bombs above the range of our guns I am certain that they would have done some damage. Perhaps they wanted the glory of a guaranteed kill. They dived in line astern. That, in itself, helped us. They could only attack one column of merchantmen.
"Stand by lads."
Crowe and Hay were on one machine gun with Lowe and Hewitt on the other. Both crews were keen to show their skills. The pilots made a steeper dive than I expected. It increased their speed and made them a harder target to hit. At the same time it gave them a shorter time over the target and they had to be good to successfully hit a ship.
"Fire!"
The heavier sound of the Hotchkiss and Oerlikon was punctuated by the staccato German machine guns and the steady rip of the Lewis gun. The Germans fired their forward machine guns as they descended. I saw men falling from the gun emplacement on the 'MS. Corfe Castle'. Then the bombs fell. The first bomber straddled the next ship in the line, 'SS. North Queen'. As it pulled up it flew into the full force of the destroyer's armament. Its tail was blown off and it spiralled into the sea. Any thoughts of cheering were ended as the crew fired at the second and third bombers. This time we managed a hit on the third bomber which began to smoke. The second one, however, managed to hit 'MS. Corfe Castle' with two of its bombs. Luckily it was carrying neither ammunition nor petrol but there was a mighty explosion. It damaged it but the blow did not appear to be mortal.
The two corvettes had closed in a little and their cross fire brought down the fifth bomber. With two shot down and one damaged the other three limped east.
"Message from 'Viperous' sir. We are to escort the tug and see if 'MS. Corfe Castle' needs assistance. We are to follow when the 'MS. Corfe Castle' is repaired."
"Acknowledge." Alan turned to me. If there are any subs in the area then we will be a sitting duck. None of us have ASDIC."
The 'MS. Corfe Castle' was on fire but I saw that the hands had it under control. Alan took the helm and he circled the tug and the merchantman as they assessed the damage. I saw the relief Sunderland to the north as the rest of the convoy disappeared south. Wacker was on the radio and he said, "The tug's captain has asked the Sunderland to land and pick up the wounded." He looked up at Alan, "They have six dead and four wounded but they reckon they can proceed under their own power. They don't need a tow."
"Good. Signal them and tell the tug's captain to lead when they are ready. We will protect the rear of our little convoy."
We had to wait until the Sunderland had landed and edged close to the 'MS. Corfe Castle'. The wounded were transferred and the Sunderland left us. We would have four hours of daylight and no air cover. If the Ju 88s came back we would be helpless.
It was a relief when darkness fell and we were safe from aerial attack. We now had to worry about submarines. They would be able to travel on the surface and would be able to keep up with the tug and the merchantman. Alan did not zig zag. He had Symons on the radar keeping watch for the convoy. The tug and the 'MS. Corfe Castle' used as much speed as they could. When dawn broke we were weary but all three of us were still safe and, in the distance we could see the smoke from the convoy.
I saw a light flashing from the 'Wingfield Castle'. "Sir, message from the tug! There is a submarine on the surface. It is trailing the convoy."
Alan grinned, "Tell the tug to take charge. We are going after this one. Action stations!"
We had been fitted with four depth charges and they were mounted at the stern. We had both thought them a waste but now we realised they might prove their worth. Alan used every bit of horsepower at his disposal and we leapt through the water as we overtook our slower consorts. I used the binoculars and spied the deadly submarine. It appeared to be three miles astern of the convoy. No doubt it would submerge soon and attack the now unprotected rear.
"Harris, hold your fire until he starts to submerge."
"Right sir!"
"Johnson, get ready with those depth charges. Set them so that they explode deep enough not to blow off our stern."
"Aye aye skipper."
Later I wondered if the lookout on the U-Boat had seen us and thought that we were an E-boat. Whatever the reason we were five hundred yards from it before they realised that we flew the White Ensign and it began to submerge. Harris was ready and the Oerlikon pounded away. The two MG 39/41s in the tubes also opened up and I saw three men fall from the conning tower and into the sea before the submarine began to sink beneath the waves. The Oerlikon's shells continued to punch holes in the conning tower and then it was gone.
"Stand by Johnson!"
"Aye aye skipper."
Alan looked astern and shouted, "Loose depth charges!"
Johnson sent first two and then a few seconds later the last two. There were two water spouts and I felt the hull move as the underwater concussion struck us. I had experienced this from the other side and I felt pity for the crew. Alan spun the wheel and cut the revs to sail over the water we had just bombed. There was nothing save the remains of three German bodies. There would be little to examine. We circled until the tug and merchantman caught up with us.
"Do you think we got him?"
"Hard to say. The water looks a little oily but ... We have no more depth charges. Let's catch up with the convoy. Even if we didn't get him he will go deep to avoid more depth charges."
Captain Barraclough was delighted with our news. We had saved him from attack and driven off a deadly predator. For my part I was just pleased to be back with the three bigger warships.
When we finally reached Gibraltar we had survived another two
desultory attacks. One was by a Kondor and did little damage. The other had been Ju 88s and 'SS. North Queen' had been holed. She had to be towed into the harbour by the tug. The first part of our operation had been successful. Alan had done his part. The next was up to my men and me.
Chapter 16
Lieutenant Ferguson was much older than I expected. He was in his late thirties. He had a pair of wire framed glasses perched on the end of his nose; he had a habit of peering over them. I saw he had a Commando flash on his battle dress and he had a Commando dagger. As he came towards us I noticed he had a slight limp and his hand looked to have a slight shake. He was, however, the most cheerful man I had ever met. He exuded joy. He stood grinning as we stepped ashore, "My dear fellow, we have been following you on your journey. Quite an adventure. I believe it bodes well for our own particular venture. Now I am afraid that accommodation is at a premium. You will have to stay aboard your boat and berths are even more precious. Once you have loaded your stores you must anchor with the other ships. Sorry about this. Still you won't be here for long will you?" He saw my face. "Oh I am sorry, I haven't stopped talking since you arrived and I have yet to introduce myself. How rude! That's what this war does to you."
I took the pause to grab his hand, "I am Tom Harsker and this is Alan Jorgenson."
"Pleased to meet you. I am Hugo Ferguson." He nodded towards his Commando flash. "I was in the Commandoes, albeit briefly. Wounded in St. Nazaire. German grenade went off and... well I can't move quite as quickly as I once did and this damned hand shakes so much I spill more gin than I drink! Still, must be positive. I am, at least, alive. Most of my chaps are either in the bag or dead. I was grateful that I was chosen for this job. So anything you want, I am your man."
Alan took the brief pause to dive in. "Did you get the ship we asked for and fuel?"
He looked around and said, "Follow me! We shall go to my nest where we can talk a little easier."
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