Paradox Hour (13 page)

The plane came on, low and slow, steady at first, until the flak began to rake the sea around it, and the pilot jogged to one side in an evasive maneuver. The gun directors were shouting, the 2.0cm guns rattling with an awful racket, and the 3.7cm batteries were cracking with their steady fire. One round was very close, but the plane continued to bore in on them, dogged to the last.

This pilot is either very stupid, or very brave, thought Heinrich. Then he looked up, and saw a Messerschmitt diving from above and well behind the enemy plane, swooping down in a long arc towards the sea. The excitement of the engagement had the crew out on the decks in spite of the danger. They were hooping and shouting, whistling as the gunners poured on the fire. When they saw that Messerschmitt swooping down, a loud cheer went through the ranks, and Heinrich smiled.

Yet the smile seemed to hang on his cheeks for a time, slackening, until his eyes registered growing alarm. He should have launched by now, he thought. What’s he doing? Come on! Get that plane! It was driving in, right over the wave tops, closer and closer. Now he saw the Messerschmitt pulling out of its dive, roaring in pursuit as it streaked over the water.

The German fighter was close enough to fire, but the
Swordfish
fired first. Heinrich saw the dark lance fall from its belly, and he knew that they were in trouble. The plane had come in through fire and hell to make that attack, and the pilot would not survive. The
Swordfish
was riddled by machinegun fire, then finally hit by the flak. It went cartwheeling into the sea as the crew cheered the kill, but it had delivered its barb before it died. Now Heinrich turned quickly, shouting an order to the helm.

“Belay that last order! Come hard to port!” The ship was turning right into the path of the torpedo, and now it was down to these last desperate seconds as the helmsman pulled the wheel hard over and
Kaiser Wilhelm
lurched in response.

Kapitan Heinrich was out through the hatch to the weather deck, his hands gripping the gunwale as he leaned over to look for the oncoming torpedo. It was going to be close…. Very close….

Kaiser
turned, its sleek bow coming around in a boiling swell, and then Heinrich’s eyes widened as he saw they would not evade. The torpedo came in and struck the ship on its starboard side. The explosion sent up a fountain of seawater, and the ship rolled with the hit.

Pilot Michael Bently was dead in the sea, but he had braved the fire and guns to even the score. Heinrich rushed back onto the main bridge, quickly giving the order ‘All Stop’ to slow the ship and assess the damage. It was soon learned that the torpedo had struck the bulwark, but still managed to penetrate and blow a good hole in the starboard side hull. The flood doors were down in that sector, and the engineers were on the scene.

Fifteen minutes later the news came that they would have to slow speed to no more than 10 knots while the damage control crews fought to get the situation in hand. Heinrich cursed under his breath. So much for chasing carriers, he thought. Now he would have to send yet another message to Lütjens to explain this fiasco. His neck reddened as he thought about that, realizing there would be a good many questions concerning his actions here. If this damage was heavy, it could mean he would be forced to return to Gibraltar, or a French port.

In one brave act, a single man had traded his life to get this hit, but it was to impact the entire mission. Heinrich looked at Schirmer, then turned and walked off the bridge, heading below to meet with the engineers. You wanted that damn carrier, he thought as he went. Be careful what you wish for…

Chapter 11

Aboard
Hindenburg
, Lütjens was pacing, and waiting for news of what was happening with
Kaiser Wilhelm
. At last a messenger came up, handing him a decrypt from the fleet cypher unit: “NOW ON DESIGNATED COURSE – EXPECT CONTACT IN 40 MINUTES.”

At last, he thought. I will have all my sheep in the flock again, though this one has proven to be quite the wolf. “
Kaiser
is now moving to rejoin us,” he said casually to Adler, extending the professional courtesy of informing him of the message contents.

“Don’t look so glum, Adler. Kapitan Heinrich has already acquitted himself well in sinking those two British ships. Now we get out into the Atlantic to look for our real prey, the convoys.”

“We will have to get well to the west,” said Adler. “The British certainly know we are here, and I am told the U-Boats have had slim pickings on routes from the UK to Freetown.”

“When the sharks are in the water,” said Lütjens, “the little fish do not feed so well,” but Adler simply proffered a thin smile. The two men were on the weather deck now, away from other ears on the bridge. The Admiral could perceive the cold in Adler, a chill that was almost disdainful. He decided to sound out his Kapitan and end this nonsense once and for all.

“You do not agree with my recent decisions, Kapitan?”

“What difference would it make,” said Adler quickly. “The Admiral clearly has plans that do not involve the sinking of British capital ships.”

“Speak your mind, Adler. Do you not understand my reasoning here? I could not afford to risk the
Kaiser Wilhelm
. We need that ship.”

“For what, sir? If you are unwilling to pursue a wounded carrier in a situation like this, then what good are those 15-inch guns on the
Kaiser?”

Lütjens smiled. “You may think it a glamorous thing to hunt down that carrier. Yes, I could turn now with everything we have and do exactly that, but have you forgotten what you just said a moment ago? The British know we are here. They will be maneuvering this very moment to bring ships with guns of their own into this little adventure. A fleet attack on that carrier would take time, more than I am willing to spend just now. Instead I will use that time to maneuver to evade the enemy, while pursuing our primary objective—the sinking of British merchant shipping. Believe it or not, Adler, that is what will either win or lose this war for us.”

“Yet now you will leave this aircraft carrier in our wake, sir. Do not be surprised if they follow that wake. They will be able to match our speed, and shadow us with planes.”

Lütjens smiled. “So now you are not so enthusiastic about our pilots off the
Goeben?”

“They will do their job, Admiral, but you and I both know that if the British persist, they will be able to maintain a good general fix on our location. So the advantage will be theirs, as they will now maneuver heavy ships to intercept us, just as you say.”

“Perhaps,” said Lütjens. “And then you fight your battle, Adler. Until then, we move west for the convoys out of Halifax. And don’t forget that we may soon be joined there by the
Tirpitz
battlegroup and
Graf Zeppelin
. Then we will truly have a fleet at sea.”

At that point a runner came onto the weather bridge, saluting as he handed Lütjens yet another message. It was a fleet intercept concerning a planned rendezvous at sea, and Lütjens stared at it for some time, not quite knowing what to make of it.

“This is from Wilhelmshaven,” he said at last. “It is signed by Admiral Raeder, but it makes no sense.”

Adler raised an eyebrow, leaning to glance at the message. “What do you mean, Admiral?”

“Apparently the British have an important shipment at sea just now—so important that they chose to utilize the hold of a battleship instead of sending it in normal convoy traffic. Look here, this message details presumed course, speed, and destination for a British man-o-war, the HMS
Rodney
. Raeder is ordering us to intercept! What’s gotten into that man? What could be so important that it had to be shipped on a battleship?”

“It could be that they have an important high level delegation at sea, Admiral. Perhaps even Churchill himself.”

“Yet it says nothing of the kind here in this message. If this were so, why wouldn’t Raeder advise me properly? Here we are, set to make our breakout, and now we get orders to find this battleship! This is ridiculous!”

Now it was Adler’s turn to give Lütjens an admonishing look. “A moment ago you were bemoaning your overzealous subordinates, Admiral. Now who is chafing at the bit when orders come from senior authorities?”

Lütjens did not appreciate the remark, but he said nothing more. He was considering what this cryptic message could be about. He wasn’t here to chase after high level officials. This was not like Raeder to make such a dramatic change to the operational plan in mid stream like this. Something was going on here that he could not yet fathom, and he wanted to get to the bottom of this at once.

“I will be in the wireless room,” he said to Adler. “You have the bridge, Kapitan.”

Adler watched him go, glad to look about him and realize that he was now the man in charge here. He shook his head, still inwardly bemoaning the lost opportunity here. In a few hours they would lose the light, making pursuit very difficult. They should have turned long ago, and by now they should be pounding that British carrier with the guns of
Bismarck
and
Hindenburg
. This business concerning the British battleship was very strange, and the orders to adjust course to look for it even stranger. Yet it may do one thing, he thought. Lütjens won’t be able to find a way to squirm off after the convoys this time. Those orders come directly from Admiral Raeder. If we do find that ship, then I finally get my battle.

This ship wasn’t built to chase steamers and oilers. No. It was built to face down the Royal Navy, and beat them. And that is exactly what I intend to do.

* * *

When
Lütjens reached the wireless room, the news he had been dreading was waiting for him.
Kaiser Wilhelm
had been hit by a torpedo! He gritted his teeth, his hand stroking his chin as he took the message and read it with growing anger.

It was just as I feared, he thought. Adler had only one thing in mind, and Heinrich was too damn eager for a fight. I will have to sit the both of them down and knock their heads together! So now what? He kept looking at the message, hoping to find his answer there, but the words were stark and cold… TORPEDO HIT TO STARBOARD SIDE… The ship was still underway. Perhaps the damage was not all that serious, but
Kaiser
did not have the armor of the bigger ships, and he had grave misgivings about this now.

One message came after another, and he read them with growing concern. The Italians reported that a flotilla of three enemy ships were maneuvering to run the Sicilian narrows. They had launched an air strike, but encountered rocket air defense fire! That sent a chill down his spine, as it could mean only one thing. I’ll bet my grandchildren that this is HMS
Invincible
. Bold of them to try and move west through the Med like that, but very much like the Royal Navy I know. Desperate circumstances call for desperate acts. How do they think they will get through our defenses at Gibraltar?

Yet even as he thought that, the situation they now faced with
Kaiser Wilhelm
weighed heavily on him. They would have to slow and effect a rendezvous with
Kaiser
. Darkness was just a few hours off, but tonight they should be able to assess the damage and determine whether the ship was still able to operate effectively.

Yet this will cost me eight hours or more, he thought. I could be well out to sea in that time, and in a good position to plan my convoy actions. Now this strange order to alter course and deliberately seek battle with a British battleship! What was Raeder thinking?

Soon we will have those battlecruisers sniffing about, and I must still consider that carrier to the south.
Kaiser
gave this Force H a bloody nose, but not without a cost. Everything is a trade off. There is always risk in any engagement, and we must never think we are invulnerable here. Yes, we have the best ship in the fleet, but I can already feel the air thickening around us. The British are following with the best they have, and there will be threats ahead if we alter course as Raeder orders. Damn! I need more information!

“Send a message to Wilhelmshaven,” he said. “Request clarification on last order. Indicate
Kaiser Wilhelm
struck by torpedo, and say we are loitering on these coordinates to make a full damage assessment. Ask for an immediate reply.”

* * *

Just
after midnight, in the early hours of May 5th,
Kirov
was in position to run the Straits of Gibraltar. They had been monitoring signals traffic, on both sides, and Nikolin had a great deal to report to Admiral Volsky. They finally had news that the Germans had engaged Force H off Cape Saint Vincent, and inflicted some harm, but not without taking a scratch themselves. The Germans had reported one of their ships had taken a torpedo hit, and some hours later, as
Kirov
approached Gibraltar, they learned that
Kaiser Wilhelm
had detached from the main body and was now heading north.

“They are probably making for Brest,” said Fedorov.

“Most likely, said Volsky. “Which means that torpedo hit was significant enough to hamper that ship’s speed, and one more thing. It also means they are well aware of our presence here. Gibraltar was much closer, yet they do not turn about for that port, or Casablanca further south. So they are not all that confident about stopping us here after all.”

“Agreed, sir,” said Fedorov, “though we do not yet know what they are planning. This engagement with Force H left the enemy about 400 kilometers west of Lisbon. That puts us about 900 kilometers behind them now. That is sixteen hours at full speed, and twenty hours ahead two thirds.”

“Something tells me they will not be waiting for us all that time, Mister Fedorov.”

“It’s this latest enigma intercept that I’m most concerned about,” said Fedorov. “We may not have such a long chase ahead of us. Wilhelmshaven has ordered Lütjens to alter course to the northeast. I was thinking he would head due west at this point, but these orders to intercept
Rodney
are most alarming. I can see no reason for such an order. Why would they deliberately seek an engagement with a British heavy warship, just when they are in the perfect position to run west for the convoys?”