Breakout

give a judgement as to the necessity of the defensive operational role of the ships on the Norwegian coast and in the North Sea.

'In this situation the decision of the Fuhrer is clear and unequivocable. We now have to be employed in a new role. But it must be stated that operating from a base without repair yards, such as Trondheim or Narvik, will bring with it very great dangers. Transfer of the battleships to be repaired in German ports brings the possibility of danger, and in air defence none of the Norwegian ports equal Brest. Aircraft-carriers could approach and long- distance bombers attack, since the local Luftwaffe forces in Norway have not got the same defensive capacity.

'Heavy enemy forces now being held down will be reduced particularly in the North Atlantic and on the main convoy routes to Gibraltar. The move from the Atlantic port of Brest will have an unfavourable effect on the strategic position, freeing enemy forces for redeployment in the Mediterranean and the Far East. Against this, the occasional operations in the Norwegian zone will produce different defensive problems hard to solve. If the enemy really attacks Norway with heavy forces we can no longer reckon with our own superiority. On the extended coastline, it will be impossible to give a decisive warning of the approach of an invasion fleet or to intervene effectively against landings.

'Even small raids cannot always be hindered and the pressure of the British to attack our heavy ships will not let up. From the beginning the employment of our surface forces has always been offensive. In spite of the numerical inferiority of our ships, they gave us success because the unexpected led us to our objective. This principal is now being given up and the battleships employed in a defensive task, which means that the initiative will remain with the enemy.

'In conclusion I would like to express the hope that the decision to evacuate our heavy ships with great difficulty from the Atlantic position will find justification in the future development of the war situation.'

A few hours after writing this dissenting report he put to sea as ordered by the Fuhrer.

As darkness fell on the evening of X-day, 11 February 1942, the warships' boiler-room fans roared as steam pressure was raised. At 6 p.m. the usual rush before leaving port prevailed on all ships. The order was given: 'Prepare to proceed on exercise.' The orders were to carry out exercises between La Pallice and St. Nazaire during the 12th, and return to Brest the following night.

This was the 'secret' order given to the ships, the destroyers, and the port authorities, as tugs with their red, green and white navigation lights fussed across the harbour ready to tow the big ships from their berths. Boats were lowered and landed to the yard. Telephone, steam lines and other connections with the shore were disconnected. Everyone except a few senior officers believed they were preparing for a night exercise due to start at 7:30 p.m. At 7:25 p.m. the German ships had doubled their mooring ropes in readiness for slipping, and hauled in the hawsers from the tugs. The weather was fine with a fresh northerly breeze.

The binnacle light glowed in the darkness revealing shad-owy figures moving on Scharnhorst's bridge. They were Captain Hoffinann with his navigating officer Helmuth Giessler. 'Sir, it's seven-thirty p.m.,' a signalman reported to the Captain who gave an order for the mooring ropes to be lipped. Tugs began to churn the water.

Signals from Scharnhorst were about to blink sailing orders when the Brest sirens howled. The RAF had arrived. Within seconds, the alarm bells—Glocken—were ringing in the ships, it was a nerve-racking situation. The battleships were lying with steam up and tugs alongside. Worse still, in order not to interfere with fire control and gunnery practice on the pre-prended 'exercise,' the elaborate camouflage netting had been removed and rolled up on the jetty. This left the ships at the mercy of flashlight bombs from BAF planes. To avert this dangerous situation, artificial fog was hastily churned out by dock-side apparatus. Everyone began choking as they breathed in the filthy stuff. Captain Brinkmann on the bridge of Prinz Eugen took a mouthful of the fog and had a paroxysm of coughing.

As anti-aircraft guns opened up, aircraft could be heard droning in the sky, obscured by the artificial fog. Only the pale flickering flashes of the massed A.A. guns could be seen through the thickening mist. When a slight puff of the wind tore a hole in the fog blanket over the port area, the crews could see the white beams of the searchlights fingering the starry sky. Amidst the roar of the A. A. fire they could make out the hissing sound of falling bombs, followed by the crash of their explosions.

When the news of the break-out reached Brest, wild rumours swept the town that the 'raid' had been arranged by the Germans as part of a ruse to clear the streets while the ships slid away. The raid was, of course, genuine. Between 7:45 and 8:30 p.m. sixteen Wellingtons dropped bombs. Although some fell on the town, none hit the ships. But photographic planes took pictures in the glare of the flashlight bombs exploding overhead.

This was to prove the first piece of extraordinary good luck for the Germans. For when the reconnaissance pictures were developed that night in Britain, some showed through gaps im the fog the ships still in harbour. This lulled the British into thinking nothing was going to happen.

At 9 p.m., although the Wellingtons had left for home half an hour before, there was still no 'all clear.' Admiral Ciliax checked the time. If the battleships did not sail by 9:30 p.m. they would never make up for lost time, and the elaborately dovetailed plan would fail. He would have to postpone the operation, as Group West had ordered, if there was a two-hour delay.

Ciliax was just about to cancel the sailing when at 9:14 p.m. the 'all clear' sounded. He immediately gave orders to get under way. The crew thought this late departure only meant a delayed practice firing as had happened before.

When the fog lifted sufficiently for the tugs to begin towing the battleships out, they were nearly two hours late on Group West's schedule. Clearing Brest harbour under ordinary night conditions was not easy and now, because of the artificial fog, the two pierheads could only be made out dimly.

With Scharnhorst leading in the smoky darkness they groped their way out. The gap they had to sail through was only 200 yards wide. Suddenly one of the big floating buoys loomed up 300 yards dead ahead of Scharnhorst. But the other buoy marking the channel could not be seen. If they did not spot her the chances were even that they would pass on the wrong side. They did. When this buoy came abreast on the wrong side, Captain Hoffmann suddenly realized he was on top of the harbour nets. Any moment he expected his propellers to catch in the steel net barrage which would put an end to his part in the break-out. There was nothing he could do except to let her drift clear. He ordered: 'Stop engines!' With propellers idle, he tensely watched Scharnhorst glide slowly clear of the nets.

At last the 32,000-ton battleship was free of the heavy wires of the net defences without her propellers being fouled.

Only when they were well clear did the officers on the bridge breathe again and Hoffmann ordered: 'Slow ahead.'

Prinz Eugen ran into worse trouble. The first tug's hawser became entangled with the cruiser's starboard propeller. When the second tug eased her tow rope it also fouled the stern of the ship. It looked like deliberate sabotage, but it was probably only the habitual deliberate carelessness of the French tugrnen working for the Germans. Anyway there was nothing they could do about it. The first priority was to get the ships clear.

When divers went down to clear Prinz Eugens propeller, thick artificial smoke was still drifting over the harbour. Orders had been given for the machines to keep churning out fog as a further safeguard for the break-out. As a result marker buoys could not be identified and squadron navigator Giessler aboard Scharnhorst used his compass to edge the ships out. He dared not flicker a searchlight to check his position. Even if he had done so it would have only reflected on the fog.

Soon Scharnhorst was able to cast off, leaving her two tugs to port. As a precaution the French tugs were ordered to steam a course off Brest until midday next day. This was ostensibly to await the Squadron's return from the 'exercise' but in fact this ensured extra security. They would not return to port until it was certain the battleships had been detected by the British.

As Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen inched their way out of harbour in Scharnhorst's wake, the escorting destroyers moved to their planned position in Brest Roads to protect them.

There was a Morse-flash from a night signal lamp as they came out of harbour. It was the only communication between the ships. The strict order was no radio messages to be transmitted between them until the British were sighted, rendering such precautions unnecessary. The signal was: 'Flagship leading.