U-900 by Michel Poulin - HTML preview

CHAPTER 9 – DEAL OR NO DEAL

 

10:39 (Washington D.C. Time)

Tuesday, October 19, 1943

Bethesda Navy Hospital

Washington, D.C., U.S.A.

 

A male orderly was helping Rear admiral Read to get back in his bed after he had gone to use the bathroom of his private hospital room, when Admiral Ernest J. King, Chief of Naval Operations of the U.S. Navy, entered the room, followed by two other navy officers and one man wearing a civilian suit. King, a tall and solidly-built man with an air of supreme authority about him, waited until the orderly had left before approaching Read and stopping beside his bed.

‘’Admiral Read, let me first tell you how sorry I am about the loss of so many of your men. And please don’t take that as an indirect blame: you were hopelessly outgunned and did the best anyone could in the circumstances.’’

‘’Thank you, Admiral!’’ replied Read in a tired voice, being still under the lingering effects of painkillers. King then continued on.

‘’I came this morning with two of my staff officers, Commander Arthur Renquist, from my Intelligence Department, and Captain Roger Halle, my Assistant Operations Officer. Also with us is Mister Harry Hopkins, political and economic advisor to the President. Would you mind telling us first how the battle near Port Stanley went?’’

‘’Not at all, Admiral.’’ answered Read before spending over six minutes to describe the battle, from its preparation phase to its aftermath. His recounting left his visitors in a somber mood, with King then asking a question.

‘’This U-900, could you describe what you saw of it?’’

‘’Yes, Admiral, but I actually didn’t see much of it. It was a really big submarine, bigger than our own GATO-Class fleet submarines, and had to be at least 350 feet long. Its hull was shaped like that of a whale and its lines were very smooth, making it look like a racer. The top of the sail had transparent canopies forward and aft and there was a curious-looking sort of pod attached to the top of the upper vertical rudder, which stuck partly out of the water. The inside proved to be very spacious and comfortable by normal submarine standards and it had a fully equipped infirmary, with a treatment table and a double bunk rack for patients. The crew had a large dedicated cafeteria, with a capacity of at least sixty seats, and I can attest that the food was of top quality. I was unfortunately not allowed to see the various combat systems of the submarine.’’

‘’And how were you and your men treated while aboard that U-900, Admiral Read?’’ asked Commander Renquist, who had taken out of his briefcase a notepad and a pen and was scribbling down notes.

‘’We were treated very correctly at all times, Commander. The commander of the U-900, Captain von Wittgenstein, struck me as a true gentleman, on top of having proven earlier his tactical competence by sinking both of my destroyers in a fair fight. He genuinely cared for our wellbeing as prisoners and didn’t strike me at all as being some Nazi fanatic. Even the German commandos embarked aboard the submarine, while obviously competent and dangerous, showed restraint towards my men.’’

‘’You saw German commandos on that submarine, Admiral?’’ said Renquist, his interest redoubling. Read nodded his head once.

‘’Yes! I saw at least a dozen of them, all wearing camouflage field uniforms and steel helmets. They were armed with some kind of rifles with long, curved magazines. Their leader was a Hauptmann Margraff. That Margraff actually knew one of my officers, Lieutenant commander John Kaiser, the navigator aboard the OMAHA, and seemed in friendly terms with him. When I later asked Kaiser about that, he told me that the same Margraff and his commandos were aboard the infamous U-800 when that submarine saved Kaiser, his wife and his two young kids, after their transport had sunk in a storm off Cuba in January of 1942. Kaiser and his family ended up spending a few days aboard the U-800 before they were dropped on a beach of the island of Curacao, off Venezuela. Kaiser also told me that Margraff confessed to him that he and his men had been the ones who had infiltrated our East Coast in order to go break a number of Germans out of a prisoner of war camp in Canada, on the shores of Lake Ontario.’’

King and his two officers, along with Hopkins, exchanged quick glances on hearing that, prompting another question from Renquist.

‘’And did your Commander Kaiser tell you anything else that he would have learned about those commandos, Admiral?’’

‘’Well, he did tell me that they belonged to the Brandenburg Regiment, something that he had already reported back in 1942. He did tell me something a bit weird, though. There was a young and very pretty German woman aboard the U-900 who spoke excellent English and helped our men communicate with the crew of the submarine. I saw her from up close a number of time while she was wearing what appeared to me as a German Army uniform. Kaiser told me that, when he asked Margraff about her, Margraff answered that she was only an occasional passenger, like him and his men. Kaiser deduced from that that this woman may have participated in one or more infiltration or sabotage mission. However, I found that hard to believe: the Germans are not known to use women in combat, at least up to now.’’

Read’s answer seemed to touch a nerve in Renquist, who opened wide his briefcase and searched in it before extracting a file marked ‘SECRET’ and opening, then showing one page in it to Read. The page was actually a copy of an artist’s sketch of the kind made by police about suspects.

‘’That young woman, did she look like this sketch?’’

‘’Yes, that’s her!’’ said at once Read, who gave a surprised look up at Renquist. ‘’How did you end up with her portrait, Commander?’’

The intelligence officer had a most somber look on his face as he answered him, while Admiral King looked over his shoulder at the sketch.

‘’Admiral, this sketch was produced by a FBI artist, using the descriptions given by witnesses involved in the July infiltration of our New Hampshire coast by a German commando team that then traveled under disguise all the way to Lake Ontario, where they stole a boat, crossed to the Canadian shore and broke nearly a hundred German prisoners of war out of a Canadian camp. That woman was seen there, both in civilian clothes and in a British naval uniform. Now, you said that you saw her from up close while she was wearing a German uniform. Can you describe to me as best as you can recall the various insignias and badges on her uniform. Any detail that you could remember will prove very useful to me.’’

‘’Very well!’’ said Read before concentrating for a moment in order to recall mental images from his memory. ‘’First, she presented herself to me as ‘Oberhelferin Hanna Blumenthal’. She wore a gray uniform consisting of a double-breasted jacket, skirt, gray silk stockings and black shoes, plus a gray field cap and a white shirt worn with a black tie. There were a number of insignias, patches and badges on her jacket and cap.’’

Read had to slow down then, as he did his best to remember the smallest details about those insignias, patches and badges, while Renquist wrote down everything he said. At the end, the intelligence officer consulted a small military publication carried in his briefcase to try to identify the various things described by Read. The puzzled look that appeared on Renquist’s face then attracted a question from Admiral King.

‘’Is there something unusual about that German woman, Commander?’’

‘’Uh, you could say that, Admiral. Overall, her uniform appears to be that of a German Army female auxiliary wearing the trade specialty patch of radio direction finder operator. Those auxiliaries are typically employed by the Abwehr, the German Army intelligence service. That would jive with the fact that she was with members of the Brandenburg Regiment, an elite unit controlled by the Abwehr.’’

‘’So?’’ said King, not seeing anything special in that.

‘’Two of the things that Admiral Read saw jumped at me, Admiral. That woman was wearing both the U-Boat Combat Badge and the ribbon of the Iron Cross, Second Class. First off, this is the only time I ever heard of a woman wearing the U-Boat Combat Badge, which is normally awarded to submariners who completed at least two war patrols or who distinguished themselves at sea. And that woman is not even part of the German Navy! Second, German women who earned the Iron Cross are very rare indeed. Your Oberhelferin Blumenthal must have accomplished some truly valorous service to earn those two awards. However, going undercover in an infiltration mission deep into American and Canadian territory would probably have helped her earn those awards. For your info, Blumenthal was seen helping to hijack a number of vehicles and also helped to hijack a fishing boat on the shores of Lake Ontario. She was also armed with a pistol and looked ready to use it. If she is ever captured by us, she would risk execution as a saboteur and a spy.’’

Read couldn’t help stare at the artist portrait of Blumenthal, utterly stunned.

‘’But, she was so sweet and polite.’’

Renquist made a bitter smirk at those words.

‘’The best female spies are usually sweet and polite, Admiral, on top of often being at least pretty. That makes them more dangerous and effective. About this Hauptmann Margraff, did he look like this?’’

Read only had to look one second at the other sketch shown to him by Renquist before nodding his head.

‘’That’s him alright! I suppose that he has quite a pedigree attached to him?’’

‘’You could say that, Admiral. This Hauptmann Margraff and his men seem to have made the boarding and hijacking of Allied merchant ships their specialty, along with sabotage operations on American soil. They were the ones who blew up the Boston Naval Ammunition Depot, the army fort guarding the entrance to Portland harbor, kidnapped the Governor of Massachusetts in his own capitol building, blew up the Panama Canal locks on the Pacific side and crossed all of the New York and New Hampshire states to break Germans out of a Canadian prisoner of war camp. And that Blumenthal girl is traveling along with them, probably using her female charms to help reinforce the false identities used by these commandos when wearing civilian clothes.’’

‘’Damn, such a beautiful girl, yet so dangerous!’’ said Admiral King while looking again at Blumenthal’s portrait. ‘’Personally, I would hate to have to shoot her.’’

‘’But she probably wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you if ordered to, Admiral.’’ replied Renquist, dead serious.

‘’So, why would she have been on the U-900 for a raid on Port Stanley?’’ asked Read, still doubtful. ‘’I can’t see how she could have been helpful to these Germans then.’’

‘’Admiral,’’ said Renquist, ‘’I received only this morning some information gathered from the debriefs of the civilian merchantmen whose ships were taken as prize ships by the Germans, ships that are now probably in a German base in Occupied France. One of those ships, the Panamean-flagged BUENAVENTURA, was hijacked just after leaving the Chilean port of Antofagasta, with its intended destination being Seattle. A young couple that had paid for a one-way passage to Seattle forced at gunpoint the ship to stop, allowing a German boarding crew to come aboard and take control of it. While those boarders most probably came from the U-900, the young couple was none other than Hauptmann Margraff and Oberhelferin Blumenthal. The latter even shot dead a crewmember who was trying to resist the hijacking. The Germans then sailed south with the BUENAVENTURA, in the company of another hijacked ship, the American-flagged tanker CHARLES FINLEY. The timeline of those events in turn helped us to clarify a mystery that was bugging us: the utter disappearance of the U.S.S. INTREPID battle group while transiting the Drake Passage. Our ships were probably detected by the U-900 and then ambushed and sunk there in a surprise torpedo attack. Heavy radio jamming by the Germans at that time made any message from our ships totally unreadable during that attack and our eight ships sank without being able to give the alert.’’

Read’s mouth opened under the effect of shock as he digested all that.

‘’And what did the BUENAVENTURA carry to warrant such German attention?’’

With Admiral King and Captain Halle listening closely, Renquist answered Read in a somber tone.

‘’The BUENAVENTURA was carrying no less than 690 metric tons of tungsten, a rare strategic metal that is in critically short supply in Germany. The ship also carried 5,500 tons of copper, 575 tons of nickel, 430 tons of molybdenum and 310 tons of manganese, all types of metals of high strategic importance. Another merchant ship that was seized by the Germans, this time in Port Stanley, was the S.S. MATILDA, an Australian bulk cargo ship loaded with over 8,000 tons of pure bauxite, from which aluminum is produced. Overall, the Germans seized enough various metals and refined fuel during their raid to cover the needs of their war industries for two months or more, on top of sinking many of our warships in the process. From the German perspective, the hijackings by the U-900 and the destruction of Port Stanley were significant strategic successes.’’

There was an oppressive silence for a moment in the hospital room, until Harry Hopkins cleared his voice before speaking up, looking at Read.

‘’Admiral Read, the main reason I came here with Admiral King is because of what Captain von Wittgenstein told you about us needing to think about stopping the fighting. What were your impressions when he told you that? Was it his own personal wish or was he expressing the wishes of his government?’’

Read took his time to respond, thinking over his answer carefully.

‘’Mister Hopkins, I believe that this came from his government. Why do I think so? First, he obviously didn’t have himself the authority to decide to drop off all the prisoners taken by the Germans in Port Stanley. That would have needed the authority of at the minimum the admiral commanding their fleet from the TIRPITZ. Second, for the Germans to let go so many prisoners after a battle, especially when one of these prisoners is of flag rank, is unprecedented. The argument that they didn’t want to compromise the internal security of their ships may have had some weight, but they could have easily dealt with that. Now, let me be brutally frank with you and Admiral King on one point: from what I saw and learned, the new family of advanced German submarines presently hold a large advantage over our present destroyers and sonar systems. With these new submarines, the Germans can basically take control of large portions of oceans, like when they put in place their maritime blockade around the British Isles, and interdict both our maritime commerce and our military supply lines. The only way not to fall prey to them right now is to keep our ship speeds high, at a minimum of twenty knots. However, going that fast burns fuel like crazy and drastically cuts the range of our ships, thus exacerbating our supply problems. Right now, they only have a limited number of those new submarines, but the more time goes, the worst the situation will become for us. Tell me, Mister Hopkins: how long do you think that Great Britain can realistically still fight before the German submarine blockade starves the British into submission?’’

The presidential advisor seemed to suddenly age at that question.

‘’To be frank, there are voices in England that have already started talking about possibly discussing an armistice with Germany. As can be expected, Prime Minister Churchill is still resolved to fight to the end, but the British situation is nearly untenable, with their ships and planes now severely rationed in fuel and with food rationing getting stricter by the week.’’

‘’And what do you think would happen when the Germans eventually have enough of their new submarines to establish a blockade around our East Coast and in the Caribbean Basin? How many men, ships and wasted supplies will we lose then while trying to sustain our war effort and support our forces in the Pacific? Unless we soon find a counter to these new German submarines, then we may just bleed ourselves to death. We need better sonars and better anti-submarine weapons, and fast!’’

‘’Our specialists are working hard on that, Admiral Read.’’ said Admiral King, his expression severe. ‘’However, we can’t give up, not now, not ever!’’

His answer only managed to make Read more adamant about his opinion and he stared back at his redoubtable chief.

‘’Sir, we have been getting promises of better sonars and weapons for over a year now, with little showing up in the front lines. A single one of the new German submarines sank in quick succession the cruiser MEMPHIS and my two destroyers. How many more of our ships will we lose when faced with half a dozen of those submarines deployed along our East Coast?’’

King was struck hard by that question but didn’t reply to it, unwilling to openly acknowledge how bad things had been in the last few days. The truth was that all the efforts to regain control of the South Atlantic had ended in disaster, something that had been heavily censored and which even Admiral Read didn’t know about yet. A battle squadron formed of the old battleships NEW YORK, TEXAS, NEW MEXICO and IDAHO and accompanied by two heavy cruisers, four light cruisers, nine destroyer escorts, four fleet destroyers and one escort carrier had tried to clear the lanes between the Brazilian coast and the Falkland Islands. That massive naval force had then been ambushed repeatedly by at least three German submarines, losing in quick succession all its major combatant units and most of its destroyers and destroyer escorts. The ‘coup de grâce’ to the surviving American ships had come when the German battleship TIRPITZ, leading the battlecruisers SCHARNHORST and GNESENAU, had caught up with them as the battered American ships were attempting to withdraw. The American patrol bombers based in Brazil had done their best to hit back at the Germans, but their bombing had proved mostly ineffective, with only a couple of near misses against the fast and heavily armed German surface warships. With the U.S. Fourth Fleet now essentially destroyed, the Germans had been free to wreck havoc among the heavy maritime traffic circulating up and down the Brazilian coast. Then, the German surface units had withdrawn, disappearing in the middle of the South Atlantic. As for the German submarines, nobody knew if they had also withdrawn or were still lurking around. The final result, which was still in effect, was a virtual paralysis of the Allied maritime commerce along the Atlantic coast of South America.

 

17:03 (Paris Time)

Friday, October 22, 1943

Submarine Pen Number One, Keroman One submarine bunker

Lorient, French Atlantic coast

 

After getting received by a full military band playing the German national anthem inside the giant submarine bunker in the port of Lorient, Ulrich was pleased to see that both Grossadmiral Dönitz and Minister of Armaments Albert Speer were present as well to greet him and his U-900. However, as happy as he was to be back at base after such a long mission, he insisted on bringing the two dignitaries as quickly as decency allowed to the officers’ wardroom of the U-900, where he pointed to Dönitz and Speer three booklets marked ‘SECRET’, three sorts of typewriting machines, an opened wooden crate and what looked like a military instruction manual, all laid on the long table of the wardroom. Dönitz felt his heart jump in his chest when he recognized the three classified booklets.

‘’Enemy code books? Three of them? Mein Gott, my good von Wittgenstein, you are positively spoiling me today! Which ones are they?’’

‘’Admiral, you have here the latest code books for the United States Navy, the British Royal Navy and the British Royal Air Force, along with the code machines for their use. Now, as important as these things may be, they pale in my opinion compared with what we found by pure luck aboard an American Army cargo ship transporting various munitions and which we sank just out of Port Stanley after taking it out of the harbor. If you and Minister Speer may approach that crate on the table.’’

A bit mystified, the two dignitaries came close enough to be able to look inside the opened crate and read the cover title of the military manual. Ulrich then explained himself.

‘’Admiral, Minister Speer, we were intrigued to find thousands of similar crates on that American cargo ship, all of which contained artillery shell fuses designed to fit on American five inch anti-aircraft shells, but not finding a single five inch shell aboard.’’

‘’An improved fuse model meant to upgrade their existing anti-aircraft shells, maybe?’’ proposed Speer, making Ulrich nod his head once, his expression most sober.

‘’Correct, Herr Minister, but when we looked further into that, we found hundreds of copies of the military instruction manual now sitting beside that crate. Reading quickly through one of those manuals made me fall hard on my bum, and for good reasons: these shell fuses you see contain a miniature radar circuit that is meant to detect aircraft around the shell and detonate it when it passes within a certain minimum distance to an aircraft. It is called a ‘proximity fuse’, with the coded designation being ‘VT Fuse’. With such a fuse, American anti-aircraft gunners no longer need to set a specific altitude or time delay to detonate their shells: they just need to aim, fire and let the fuse find out by itself when is the best time to detonate its shell. You can imagine how much more accurate and deadly a shell would be against an aircraft if equipped with this fuse. It seems that the Americans have now perfected such a fuse to the point where it has been put into mass production and is now being shipped to American combat ships in the Pacific.’’

With Dönitz staring down with disbelief at the fuses inside the crate, Speer took one of the fuses in his right hand and examined it closely with an expression approaching awe.

‘’The American radar technology is this advanced? Mein Gott! I must call in experts from Telefunken and the Luftwaffe on this at once.’’

‘’We took care of loading twelve crates of those new fuses aboard the U-900, along with twelve instruction manuals, Herr Minister. You may use them as you wish.’’

Speer gave a thankful look to Ulrich and spoke in a solemn tone.

‘’Kapitän von Wittgenstein, I don’t know what kind of reward would be sufficient to acknowledge the full importance of what you brought back from your mission. And I am not talking only about the tungsten metal and the thousands of tons of refined fuel you brought back, all of them very precious to our war industries.’’

A malicious smile appeared on Dönitz’ face as he stared at Ulrich, visibly most pleased.

‘’Well, I am pretty sure that he will refuse a promotion that would put him in a land-based staff position, even though I would kill to have him teach our future U-Boote commanders, but I can think of one thing.’’

Dönitz’ expression then became most serious and he shouted two words.

‘’KAPITÄN, ATTENTION!’’

Ulrich came at once to rigid attention, following which Dönitz continued in a very official tone.

‘’Korvettenkapitän Ulrich von Wittgenstein, in view of your exceptional services at sea at the commands of the U-900, I now promote you to the rank of fregattenkapitän, effective immediately. You will continue to command the U-900 while wearing your new rank. Furthermore, there will be more awards and distinctions for you and your crew, which will be arranged by me in the next few days. Once those awards will have been distributed, you and your crew will then get a full month of home leave, something you all richly earned. In turn, that month will give me time to have your U-900 fully reviewed and refitted and to install a couple of new little gadgets in it. Congratulation, Fregattenkapitän von Wittgenstein.’’

Ulrich enthusiastically shook the hand offered by his admiral, being most happy about the month of leave at his home town rather than because of his promotion.

 

14:11 (London Time)

Thursday, October 28, 1943

Lead Dornier Do 217 K-3 medium bomber

German air armada arriving over Scapa Flow’s main anchorage

Scapa Flow, Orkney Islands, off northern tip of Scotland

North Sea

 

Generalfeldmarschal Albert Kesselring would not normally be part of an air combat mission, in view of his rank and value as a strategic commander, but this mission was not a normal one. If all went according to plan, it would effectively end British dominance of the seas for years to come and destroy the Royal Navy as a major fighting force. The fact that Albert Kesselring, a veteran aviator, loved flying had also been a factor in deciding the generalfeldmarschal to ignore the objections of his subalterns to his presence on this mission. Looking left and right from the pilot’s seat of the twin-engined Dornier Do 217 K-3 medium bomber, Kesselring felt immense pride as he embraced the 330 aircraft air armada that was about to pound the British naval base and anchorage of Scapa Flow. Ironically, this major bombing mission, along with a couple of smaller ones being done simultaneously against Rosyth and Newcastle, had been made possible by the Kriegsmarine in two ways: first, the submarine blockade around the British Isles, which had starved the British forces of fuel and had forced the Royal Navy to confine its bigger units to port in order to save what precious fuel was left; second, the nearly 23,000 tons of high-quality aviation gasoline captured in the South Atlantic and recently brought to Lorient, Brest and Cherbourg, gasoline that had helped refill the strategic reserves of fuel of Kesselring’s aviation units, which encompassed all the German aircraft on the Western Front, from Norway down to Southern France.

 

As the armada approached from the Northeast the small town of Kirkwall, to the North-northeast of Scapa Flow’s main anchorage, thus flying through a gap in the British heavy anti-aircraft batteries defending Scapa Flow, Kesselring gave an order on the radio.

‘’Shark Four, from Shark Leader: break off from the formation now and go down to deal with the British airfield and anti-aircraft guns on both sides of the anchorage.’’

On that radio command, a total of 41 Messerschmitt Me 410 HORNISS heavy fighter-bombers broke off and split in turn into three separate squadrons that dove towards the ground and Mainland Island, where a British naval air station and eight heavy anti-aircraft gun batteries were located. The Me 410 had been in service for only a few months now and this was going to be its first use in a major operation. Designed as a long range day heavy fighter-bomber with heavy cannon and machine gun armament, the Me 410 had been selected by Kesselring as the perfect type of aircraft to strafe the British air station and gun batteries. If some British fighter aircraft managed to climb up to try intercept the German armada, then 31 Focke-Wulf Fw 190 G long range fighters providing close escort to the German bombers would then deal with them.

 

As the Me 410s started spreading destruction on the ground, Kesselring anxiously scanned with his binoculars the main and secondary anchorage areas, plus the quays of the naval base situated on Hoy Island, to identify and select the main targets for his planes. Battleships and aircraft carriers would of course rate high as important targets, but Kesselring was experienced enough to know that, if anything, cruisers and escort carriers were actually the main strength of the British naval forces that patrolled daily the seas around the World, along with a multitude of destroyers, frigates and corvettes. He was thus prepared to assign a sizeable number of his bombers to deal with those cruisers and escort carriers. A big grin soon appeared on Kesselring’s face as he finished counting the British ships anchored or moored in Scapa Flow: from a distance he already could identify one old fleet carrier, H.M.S. FURIOUS, five escort carriers, four battleships, seven heavy cruisers, two light cruisers and over two dozen destroyers, frigates and minesweepers, plus a dozen submarines. Thinking for a few seconds, Kesselring then started giving a series of short orders, assigning targets to the various units of his air armada as the first puffs of black smoke from exploding British anti-aircraft shells started bursting in the sky around his aircraft. On his part, the bombardier/missile controller sitting in the nose of Kesselring’s Do 217 K-3 concentrated his attention on the British battleship H.M.S. NELSON, anchored in the middle of the bay, some two kilometers ahead of the bomber. With the powerful battleship centered in the crosshairs of his special sight, the bombardier then pushed a button on his control stick, releasing one of the two FRITZ-X guided bombs carried by his bomber. A 1570 kilo weapon put into service nearly a year ago but that had not been used widely until now, the FRITZ-X was a radio-controlled weapon designed to attack and sink heavy naval units. As such, it had a very powerful warhead containing 320 kilos of high explosives, but it had a major drawback: during the guidance phase, its parent aircraft had to fly in a straight line at low speed, thus making it quite vulnerable to enemy fire. As the guided bomb started falling from high altitude towards the H.M.S. NELSON, the German bombardier hoped that the British gunners would take some time to react to the German air attack, thus giving him time for his bomb to hit the battleship. What did help him was the fact that the anti-aircraft defenses of the NELSON, a ship built in the 1920s, were not very heavy, consisting only in a total of six medium anti-aircraft guns, two octuple 2-pounder mounts and eight machine guns. Still, some anti-aircraft shells exploding around in the sky shook somewhat the bomber as the bombardier concentrated into keeping aligned the flare in the tail of the bomb with the British battleship. The German nearly shouted with joy when a huge explosion amidships rocked the NELSON, under the main forward superstructures and near the waterline.

‘’HIT ON THE TARGET! PILOT, TURN AROUND FOR A SECOND BOMB RELEASE, PLEASE!’’

‘’Well, if you ask this so politely, Hans…’’ replied Kesselring, also happy for the bomb hit, before doing a half-turn to the right in order to return to the tail of the lineup of the four Do 217 K-3 assigned to attack the NELSON. As he did so, he looked around at how his other aircraft were doing and nodded his head in satisfaction: surprise seemed to have been near total. While the British had been ready to repel small raids and lone reconnaissance flights, the appearance of such a huge air armada, coming from the Northwest rather than from the East, had clearly taken them off balance. Another battleship, the H.M.S. QUEEN ELIZABETH, had already been hit by a FRITZ-X, while all the British cruisers in sight had to each contend with a minimum of six German dive bombers. A huge blast wave and following fireball in the middle of the anchorage then marked the end of the old battlecruiser H.M.S. REVENGE as it blew up, hit in its forward main magazine by a guided bomb.

 

In one of the Junkers Ju 88 A-4 medium dive bombers assigned to attack the British destroyers moored at the naval base on Hoy Island, the pilot grinned ferociously as he was diving on a group of three destroyers moored side by side along a jetty.

‘’How could anybody miss such an easy target? One of these destroyers will soon be toast!’’

‘’You do miss the dart board at the mess when you have more than three mugs of beer in your belly, Hans.’’ Replied his copilot, being malicious. Hans ignored him for the moment, concentrating on his bombing aim and finally pushing his release button, letting go his two 1,000 kilo armor-piercing bombs. To Hans partial disappointment, one of his two bombs barely missed the outer destroyer of the trio and exploded in the water beside its hull, while the other bomb did hit dead center that destroyer. That direct hit devastated the engine room of the destroyer, while the near-miss still buckled a number of hull plates, creating heavy water leaks inside the boiler rooms. Mentally pestering his poor aim, the pilot of the Ju 88 A-4 pulled hard on his control yoke to come out of his dive and leave the way open to the next Ju 88 A-4 behind him. His copilot couldn’t resist pricking him a little then.

‘’How many beers did you have before taking off, Hans?’’

‘’Fuck off, Karl!’’

About three minutes later, a huge deflagration followed by an unending chain reaction of explosions shook the whole British naval base area, as the main ammunition dump for large caliber naval shells and torpedoes was hit by a number of bombs from an air group of Heinkel He 111 H medium bombers, flying level at medium altitude and carpet-bombing the naval base’s installations. Explosions, fires and thick black smoke now covered the whole British base, while many ships in the anchorage were either sinking or already sunk. However, Kesselring did not let off the pressure from his attack, reassigning bombers which still carried bombs or guided weapons to the targets still intact or afloat. With much of the British air defenses now neutralized, the operators of FRITZ-X guided bombs and of Heinschel Hs 293 rocket-propelled gliding bombs started fully making their mark on the battle, sinking one after the other the British cruisers and escort carriers still afloat. The bombers and heavy fighters which didn’t have bombs anymore but had rounds left for their forward fixed cannons and machine guns were sent by Kesselring to strafe either ground installations or the destroyers and smaller ships still afloat. Only when his bombers and heavy fighter-bombers were completely out of ammunition did Kesselring give the order to return to base. During that time, the R.A.F., as hampered by lack of fuel as the Royal Navy, had been able to send up only nine Hawker HURRICANE fighters to engage the German air armada. Those nine brave fighter pilots were however quickly overwhelmed and shot down by the 31 Fw 190 G long range fighters escorting the bombers, before they could even fire once on the bombers. Only the British anti-aircraft heavy guns did cause some damage, shooting down three German bombers and damaging seven more aircraft, all in all a casualty rate that Kesselring was most ready to pay in view of the massive losses caused to the British fleet. By the time the commander of the Home Fleet could tally the damage, he found out that he still had left intact and ready for sea a grand total of one light cruiser, four frigates and corvettes, two minesweepers and six submarines. The British admiral learned later on that he had also lost to air attack in Rosyth and Newcastle the battleship H.M.S. RODNEY, three cruisers, five destroyers and frigates and two minesweepers. The British Home Fleet had in essence mostly ceased to exist on that day.

 

 

 

10:03 (London Time)

Tuesday, November 9, 1943

Prime Minister’s residence, 10 Downing Street

Whitehall District, London

 

‘’Where is the Prime Minister?’’ nearly growled Deputy Prime Minister Clement Attlee while storming inside Churchill’s official residence. Churchill’s butler did his best to block his way, but could only protest verbally.

‘’The Prime Minister is still sleeping, sir, and asked not to be disturbed.’’

‘’Still sleeping, at past ten in the morning? There are urgent matters to be attended to, damn it!’’

Attlee, a small, thin and nearly bald man with a short moustache, ignored the butler and ran up the stairs leading to the upper floor. There, he pushed open the door of Churchill’s bedroom, finding him alone in bed and snoring loudly. Approaching the bed, Attlee shook his head at the sight of the two empty bottles of scotch on the night stand. The next thing he shook was the Prime Minister himself.

‘’Wake up, Winston! I SAID, WAKE THE BLOODY UP, WINSTON! WE HAVE URGENT MATTERS TO DEAL WITH!’’

Churchill, still in a half drunken stupor, finally opened his eyes and snarled at Attlee.

‘’Uh? What? What is it? I asked not to be disturbed.’’

‘’The cabinet and the nation needs you, that’s what, Winston. We have urgent decisions to take.’’

Reluctantly, Churchill sat up in bed and swung his legs out, then held his head in his hands.

‘’God, I feel awful!’’

‘’With all the liquid courage you have been downing lately to escape the hard decisions needed to be taken, no wonder!’’ Replied Attlee in a severe tone. ‘’What we need from you is less drinking, less bombastic statements, more realism and more empathy towards our people.’’

Churchill snapped his head up to stare angrily into Attlee’s eyes, causing in turn a wave of pain through his brain and making him cringe before he could reply to his deputy.

‘’What do you mean, more empathy towards our people? I always cared for our people?’’

‘’Is that so? Then why do you ignore its suffering and the growing death and destruction from German air attacks and sea blockade, instead simply repeating that we will fight to the death and will never surrender? Right now, our sailors are sitting ducks aboard ships immobilized by lack of fuel, while our bomber aircraft are being systematically destroyed on the ground, thanks again to lack of fuel, and while our war industries are being bombed out of existence one by one. Rationing has now come to the point where the basic health of our civilian population is at risk, while we are running out of ammunition for our anti-aircraft guns, thanks to that damn German submarine blockade. We have to do something else than say empty slogans.’’

‘’Like what?’’

‘’Like possibly looking at discussing an armistice with the Germans.’’ fired back Attlee. ‘’I know that you hate that idea and so do I, but it has now come to the point where we cannot ignore that option anymore.’’

‘’Then, if it’s to discuss our surrender, do it without me.’’ said the stubborn Churchill, swinging back his legs on the bed. Attlee, now getting truly angry, forced him back to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

‘’NOW LISTEN UP, WINSTON! WE NEED YOU, NOW! IF YOU ARE NOT READY TO COME AND DO YOUR JOB, THEN WE WILL VOTE YOU OUT OF OFFICE AND DESIGNATE SOMEONE ELSE IN YOUR PLACE.’’

That threat finally convinced Churchill to get out of bed and to go to his closet, to start dressing up while grumbling to himself. Before leaving him, Attlee stopped for a moment in the frame of the bedroom’s door.

‘’For your info, we have been discussing already for a couple of hours, so don’t be surprised if we will have a list of options ready for you when you will show up at the cabinet conference room.’’

The politician then walked out, leaving Churchill alone in his bedroom. A quick look in a mirror then decided the Prime Minister that he better shave and wash his face before dressing up, if he wanted not to look like some kind of old scarecrow.

 

It was past eleven o’clock in the morning when Churchill showed up at his government’s offices, located next to his residence in the Home Office Building. It took another twelve minutes to reassemble the ministers and military leaders who had dispersed after waiting hours for him. Once everybody needed was present, Churchill looked slowly around the table, noting the mix of frustration, discouragement and resignation on the faces looking back at him. To his annoyance, he saw very little combativeness or resolve in those same faces. Still half drunk and not feeling in a mood to compromise, he sat down in his chair and threw a severe look at his ministers and military chiefs.

‘’So, what kind of options have you been discussing together without me, gentlemen?’’

That earned him annoyed stares from around the table, with Clement Attlee looking the most pissed.

‘’Mister Prime Minister, we had to discuss viable options for the country, since you had deemed not fit to attend yourself. I will now save time for all of us and will list for you the options left to us. The first option is to continue resisting, despite our severe lack of fuel and dwindling food supplies. However, all of us agreed that this option will only result in the gradual destruction of Great Britain as a viable military power and in progressively more acute starvation for the whole of our population. At the present rate, all of our major war industries will have been destroyed by air bombardment, while most of our ships and aircraft will have been destroyed in their bases, and this within two to three months, unless we somehow manage to break the German submarine blockade of our coasts. Unfortunately, our lack of fuel makes that a completely unrealistic expectation. The only way to break the blockade would be to get massive American support in warships and planes. Unfortunately, our ambassador in Washington reports that such American support is not forthcoming. President Roosevelt is presently focused on trying to avoid a complete defeat in the Pacific at the hands of the Japanese. So, the option of continuing resistance is not a viable one in the long or even medium term. What we are left with as realistic options is to either open armistice talks with Germany and try to get as favorable terms as possible that would ensure the survival of Great Britain as a country, or to surrender.’’

That last word made Churchill jump out of his chair, furious.

‘’SURRENDER? NEVER! YOU REALLY WANT TO SEE GERMAN TROOPS PARADING DOWN WHITEHALL? I WOULD DIE RATHER THAN SEE THAT!’’

To his surprise, Attlee didn’t push back at his reaction and looked back at him somberly.

‘’On that point, me and most others present here concur with your reaction, Mister Prime Minister. We only need to look at France to see what a German occupation of Great Britain would bring us. Such a prospect is indeed too humiliating and painful for our country to contemplate. That leaves us with the option of an armistice or negotiated peace with Germany. Fortunately, we do have a few things going for us that would tend to make the Germans fairly reasonable in such negotiations.’’

‘’Oh!? Such as?’’

‘’Such as the fact that the Germans are presently engaged in tough, ferocious battles with Soviet forces on their Eastern Front and are far from assured of winning in the long run. The Germans would love nothing more than to be able to conclude a peace with us that would then allow them to redirect most of their forces to the Eastern Front. Yes, this could be called a betrayal by us of our Soviet allies and would infuriate Stalin, but let’s not forget that Stalin was the first to conclude a peace treaty with Germany in 1939, in order to be able to grab half of Poland for himself afterwards. If we would conclude a peace arrangement with Hitler, then Stalin will be welcome to sign his own peace treaty with Germany.’’

Churchill, now thoughtful, sat back in his chair.

‘’Hum, that makes a lot of sense. To be frank, I wouldn’t mind seeing Stalin getting his due. But what about the United States? If we sign a peace treaty or armistice with the Germans, then it will find itself alone against both Germany and Japan. Japan might also object to a treaty that would not also protect its gains in the Pacific and would leave it alone against the United States.’’

At that point, the minister of foreign affairs, Anthony Eden, jumped in on the conversation.

‘’Japan would effectively object to being left alone against the Americans, so would probably push for including the Americans in any peace treaty, unless Germany promises to keep fighting the Americans. However, that last point would mean that we would consciously decide to abandon the Americans in order to sign a separate peace. Personally, I would find such an outcome repugnant.’’

Most heads around the table, including those of Attlee and Churchill, nodded in agreement at that last sentence. Eden then went on.

‘’In my opinion, the best realistic outcome would be a peace treaty agreed to by us, Germany, Japan and the United States. If the Soviet Union would accept to join such a treaty, then the better. The one delicate point for us would then decide on conditions that would be acceptable to us and would preserve Great Britain as a free, viable country. If we could preserve at least part of our empire at the same time, it would be the icing on the cake.’’

Churchill didn’t find objections to that then, very conscious of what the British people had suffered to date and now realizing at last how desperate the situation was after four and a half long years of war. He thus nodded his head and spoke in a much more conciliatory tone.

‘’Very well, gentlemen. Let’s thus discuss about the peace terms that we would wish to achieve during talks with Germany and with possibly Japan as well. I agree with Sir Anthony that we should keep in mind the impact of any term on the United States. Sir Anthony will be in charge of keeping President Roosevelt appraised of any development if and when we enter in negotiations with Germany and, possibly, Japan. As for me, I will call President Roosevelt myself tonight.’’

 

16:35 (Washington D.C. Time) / 21 :35 (London Time)

Oval Office, White House

Washington D.C., U.S.A.

 

‘’I understand, my friend. Keep me appraised of any new developments on this subject. I will consult my cabinet at once, then will get back to you. Have a good evening, Mister Prime Minister.’’

On those last words, Franklin Delano Roosevelt slowly put down the receiver, then stared a long moment in silence at his telephone, his mind furiously processing the words from Churchill. He couldn’t help slam his fist on his work desk then, in order to spend some of his anger and frustration.