Breakout

commission. With them on the bridge was the Australian ship's doctor Lt. David Jackson. As he watched the silvery shape of the destroyers being swallowed up into the mist, the doctor shivered slightly, for he was cold even in his thick jersey and monkey jacket. He was glad they were due back in harbour by tea-time.

The practice shoot was to be with their 4.7 guns at a towed canvas target. After the first series of shoots off Orfordness, it was Worcester's turn to tow the high-speed target for the other destroyers.

It was nearing the end of the forenoon watch when the yeoman of signals aboard Campbell handed Captain Pizey a signal from the C-in-C Nore, Vice-Admiral Sir George Lyon, which read: 'Enemy cruisers passing Boulogne. Speed about twenty knots. Proceed in execution of previous orders.' Signals began flashing from the flagship Campbell, ordering the destroyers to abandon the target shoot, alter course, and join him at full-speed.

It was 11:58 a.m., and off-duty officers were sitting in Worcester's wardroom when an officer came clattering down the companion-way and shouted excitedly, 'Have you heard the news? They're out and we are going after them.'

'Who's out?' inquired someone uninterestedly from behind a magazine.

'The Scharnhorst and Gneisenau—they are coming up the Channel.'

The signal lamps and short-range radio were still flashing messages from destroyer to destroyer. Pizey signalled the Hunt Class destroyers: 'Must leave you behind.' This was because they could only keep up a maximum speed of twenty-five knots against twenty-eight to thirty knots for Pizey's flotilla. In an ordinary operation, he would have kept down to twenty-five knots, but this was too slow if he were to be in time to intercept the enemy. HMS Quorn, flotilla leader of the Hunt Class A.A. destroyers, flashed a farewell message as she turned to obey orders and lead her destroyers home to Harwich.

Aboard Campbell, Fanning plotted the German positions as given by the Admiralty, and Pizey realized the interception could take place at the Hinder Buoy as planned. This meant skirting the British minefields and sailing through the narrow swept Channel in single line.

On arrival at North Hinder Buoy the four destroyers of 21 flotilla were to station themselves on the starboard bow while 16 flotilla under Captain Wright stationed themselves to port.

Upon the signal 'attack' they would simultaneously launch their torpedoes. Although this plan was drawn up specifically for a night action, Pizey felt he had no alternative but to adhere to it.

Chief Engineer Hugh Griffiths of Worcester was writing letters in his cabin when he felt the ship shudder as the engines began to rise towards full speed. When Bill Wellman the torpedo-gunner dashed into his cabin and said, 'We're off after the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau!' Griffiths did not believe him. He had been sleeping in his boots for over a week at five minutes readiness and he replied, 'Don't be silly, Bill. It's just another bloody false alarm. We'll be home for tea.'

As he said this, a messenger arrived asking Griffiths to see the Captain on the bridge. Climbing on deck, he could see Campbell and Vivacious ahead beginning to breast the waves as their speed rapidly increased. Steaming beside Worcester was Mackay, while in her wake were Walpole and Whitshed. All the old destroyers shuddered and thumped as they slowly crept up towards their maximum speed of thirty knots. They looked a brave sight, but every ship was over twenty years old and their torpedo tubes had to be hand-worked into position for firing.

Mackay's crew were piped on to the mess deck to be told by Captain Wright that two or three German ships had come out of Brest and they were going to try to intercept them at the mouth of the River Maas. He wished the ship's company good luck and dismissed them.

Charles Hutchings, an AB writer, went to his battle station on 'Monkey island,' four feet above the bridge. He was operating a sight setter which fed information to the guns. It was Hutchings' first action, and he was very tensed up until an experienced Scots bosun told him, 'Treat it like practice.'

Aboard Worcester, Douglas Ward, a burly 24-year-old gun-layer, was helping to clear the after 4.7 gun, when all hands were piped to an early lunch of corned beef, mashed potatoes and tea. Everyone on the mess deck had now heard the news and were very excited at the prospect of 'having a go at Jerry.' They were not apprehensive as they assumed their role to be just a part of a big attack. Although Pizey and his commanders knew differently, many of the crew firmly believed they would be supporting British battleships steaming out of Scapa Flow, and would be safe under the protection of their great guns. Some of the older, battle- experienced petty officers did not share the optimistic views of the wartime-enlisted sailors. They had been in naval actions before and knew what sudden butchery they could bring.

Then at 1:18 p.m., an hour after he had received his first order, Captain Pizey received another message from the Admiralty. The original signal telling him to intercept the German ships, giving their estimated speed as twenty knots, was based on reports from Spitfires over the Channel and radar. Now, after waiting for over an hour, a more accurate plot of their position was reported from Dover, saying their radar plot had faded at 1:12 p.m. When Navigator Fanning worked this out he calculated that the German warships proceeding on the same course were making nearly thirty knots.

Pizey was the victim of yet another failure to react quickly enough. Why the Amiralty should have so easily accepted the original estimate of speed is inexplicable as the German battleships' cruising speed was known to be twenty-eight knots — and in fact they were capable of thirty-two knots under pressure. Why should they not be cramming on every ounce of speed in their desperate dash up the English Channel? Yet nearly an hour passed before Pizey's destroyers were given details of their real speed.

When he received this report on the bridge of Campbell, Pizey had to think very quickly. If he continued on his present course he would miss them. But the only direct course meant going right through the mined area. Yet it was his only chance of intercepting the Germans.

He took less than five minutes to make his decision. At 1:24 p.m., he sent a signal saying: 'Speed 28 knots, course 090.' this meant he had decided to risk damage to his destroyers in the minefield even before he met the Germans. He had charts of the minefields with the rows of mines marked, and there was a narrow channel about a mile wide through which he decided to lead his destroyers. If they navigated carefully the only danger was floating mines. This risk he calculated he had to take. His decision to change course and go through the minefield was described by the C-in-C Nore as, 'One of the soundest appreciations of the action.'

When Pizey gave orders to change course he could not increase speed beyond twenty-eight knots. Campbell and Mackay, larger and more powerful, could make two to three knots more, but if they did so they would be unable to keep the flotilla together. Even so, one destroyer, Walpole, who was last in line, fell out because her old engines could not stand the pace. Her Captain, Lt.-Cdr. John Eadon, signalled she was unable to go on as her main bearing had burnt out. She was going to try to limp back to Harwich.

Pizey's new plan was to intercept the German battleships off the Hook of Holland. At 1:35 p.m., just as they were entering the minefield, the Germans became aware that the little destroyer flotilla was sailing towards them. A cloud-dodging Junkers 88 appeared and dropped some bombs near Mackay and Worcester. She missed — but she reported their presence.

Five minutes later, Admiral Ciliax on the bridge of Scharnhorst with Captain Hoffmann was handed a signal: 'From JU 88. One cruiser and five destroyers in grid square AN 8714, course 095 degs., high speed.'

Was this report accurate? Were they by any chance capital ships? And why were they so near? Ciliax rightly guessed that a force had been patrolling at sea off Harwich and been ordered to the attack. When the reported position of the British warships was checked on the charts, it was calculated it would be two hours before they could make contact. By that time the Germans would be in a more favourable position to deal with them — or even avoid them altogether.

They were now at the northern end of the Channel and the weather was beginning to deteriorate fast as had been forecast — and hoped for. But there were corresponding disadvantages. Poorer visibility rendered navigation difficult and they had difficulty in finding the mark-boat, which was out of position. Off the Belgian coast there was a depth of water of less than ten fathoms. Although Group West had given them an experienced pilot, who knew these waters thoroughly, a temporary speed reduction was necessary because mine-sweeping was still in progress