Kirov II: Cauldron of Fire

Chapter 24

Admiral Fraser settled into his chair in the officer’s wardroom aboard HMS Nelson, exhilarated by his recent transit to the ship, his cheeks and brow still red, the tang of the sea in his nose, and eyes alight. He took a moment to compose himself while the orderly brought in the afternoon tea. It was just as Admiral Syfret had promised him—Earl Grey, nice and hot.

Fraser was a fast rising star in the Royal Navy. He had served with distinction in the First World War, an expert in naval gunnery, and he supervised the internment of the German High Seas Fleet when that conflict concluded. His broad experience included a stint on the carrier Glorious, service as Chief of Staff for the Mediterranean Fleet, Third Sea Lord, and Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath. History would record that he would lead the British Battleship Duke of York and sink the German raider Scharnhorst in late 1943 before moving to a post in the Pacific Fleet, and he would one day sign the instrument of Japan’s surrender on behalf of the British Empire aboard the battleship Missouri in Tokyo Bay. History, however, had a way of taking some very unexpected turns, though Fraser could not know that as he sat down for tea that afternoon.

“Well, Neville, it seems we’ve got a bit of a mystery on our hands. I know you were in the thickets back there, and had a mind to see it through just a little longer, but I received the same orders as you undoubtedly have, to turn about at once and make all speed for Gibraltar.”

“I certainly hope you’re going to tell me why, Sir Bruce,” said Syfret. The two men had known each other for many years, and were accustomed to drop the formalities of rank and protocol when they met. They had shared many a toast and tea together, though seldom under circumstances such as these. “What, has there been a problem with this Operation Jubilee? I thought it was not to be mounted until this convoy was seen through to Malta and we could get Force H reconstituted at Gibraltar and in position to lend a hand if needed. You know we’ve been rather beaten up out there. They threw planes at us by the bushel, and God bless those boys in the carrier fighter squadrons, they were absolutely superb.”

“Quite so,” said Fraser, his sandy hair now white with his years, but his ruddy features still giving him an animated life and energy. He turned to the orderly, who was standing by the doorway in attendance. “That will be all, young man.”

“Very good, sir.” The man saluted, and quietly left the two men alone. When he had gone Fraser leaned forward and lowered his voice nonetheless, an air of caution about him now.

“No, it has nothing to do with Operation Jubilee—in fact that whole party has been cancelled. Sixty squadrons set back on their rumps at home, and the whole fleet up in a tither over something else.”

“Something else? Do go on, Sir Bruce.”

“Neville, I must first apologize that you will have no inkling of what I’m about to say here. Nobody knows everything, I suppose, and for that matter I only learned about this business when I assumed my post as Deputy Commander Home Fleet when Daddy Brind shipped over to the Admiralty as Assistant Chief of the Naval Staff. I’m just getting my feet wet, you see, and I never expected to hear very much more about the matter, but it concerns that incident a year ago south of Iceland. I’m sure you’ve heard something about it.” He smiled politely.

“I knew Repulse never came home,” Syfret said sullenly, “and we all saw the damage to King George V and Prince of Wales. I must say I made inquiries about it back then, but I’m old enough to know when a door’s being closed in my face, and so I shut up and let the matter go.”

“You heard the rumors, of course.”

“The rocketry? Some new German raider raising hell out there. It was hard not hear about it. Word has spread round through every bar and brothel in the kingdom by now. But sailors say a lot of things, don’t they. We were told to squeeze the necks of any man we caught spreading such rumors, and I dare say I’ve squeezed quite a few.”

Fraser nodded, taking a long sip of his tea and setting down the cup. “Well I’m to tell you that these rumors have more substance to them than we were first led to believe,” he said. “In point of fact, most every last one was the gospel truth. There was a ship, a German ship we believe, and there was quite a row at sea when Home Fleet went hunting for it a year ago. As you know, the Americans were in on it as well, and they were hurt even worse. You’ve read the papers.”

“Yes, that torpedo attack on the Mississippi. A stroke of good luck for us, if you want my mind on it. Brought the Yanks right in on our side just as Sir Winston was hoping.”

“Yes… well there was no torpedo attack…”

Syfret raised an eyebrow, realizing that Fraser was now getting round to the front door on the matter. “No torpedo attack?”

“It was something else,” said Fraser. “Bletchley Park says it was one of Herr Hitler’s wonder weapons. You know he’s got these rockets on the drawing boards, of all sorts. Well he’s also got one bloody hell of a warhead to mount on them. Why do you think we’ve scattered command elements all over the Kingdom in the last year? What do you make of those underground bunkers they’ve been building in the Scottish Highlands?”

“I thought they were to be for munitions stores.”

“So did I, until they started trucking in desks and telephone equipment, and all the other accouterments that clutter up the Admiralty offices. They’ve been spreading the butter and jam thin, Neville, because they don’t want everything together if another of these rockets comes thundering in on Whitehall one day.”

“I see… But what has this to do with our present orders, Sir Bruce? Why the rush home to Gibraltar?”

“Neville, this new General Montgomery is stiffening up the line at Al Alamein, and we think we can keep Rommel out of Alexandria for the time being. So that means Suez is safe—at least for the moment. Now, you’ve done your damndest to secure Malta, and in spite of the losses I think we got enough through to keep them running a few more months there. It’s a pity it cost us so much, what with Manchester, Nigeria, Cairo and others all gutted, and losing Eagle was a hard blow. But Burrough will be turning west in about three hours with the remainder of his Force X, and Admiralty has indicated to me that Operation Pedestal is now of secondary importance.” He tapped his finger on his tea cup as he spoke, his mind running on.

“Operation Jubilee is cancelled, and now all the plans for Operation Torch are up in the air as well. It’s come down to this, Neville. The threat now is to Gibraltar…” he left that on the table for a moment, sipping his tea and noting Syfret’s reaction.

“A threat to Gibraltar? Have the Spanish thrown in with Hitler after all?”

“No, Franco wants none of that. It’s something else, a matter for the Royal Navy, which brings us round to our orders again. It seems there’s another ship at large—right here in the Med. 248 Squadron got a look at it a few days ago. Park sent film through Gibraltar and it ran all the way into Bletchley Park. I’m not quite sure how just yet, but it apparently has something to do with this incident we had a year ago off Iceland. They’ve slapped a code word on it and we’re to be ready to oppose any and all unauthorized sea traffic approaching Gibraltar. You’re to go to full battle readiness at the first sign of any contact at sea, and they want your planes to begin searching north and northwest of our present position at once.”

“I see,” said Syfret, setting down his tea. “Forgive me if I seem a bit thick, sir, but what are we looking for?”

“A ship—a battlecruiser of sorts—the very same ship our 248 squadron took a nip at two days ago. We lost four of six Beaufighters, you know.”

“I heard the report, but had more on my plate to worry about and dismissed it.”

“Yes… well it was the way we lost these planes that got the Admiralty all rankled. They were shot down by rocketry, Neville. There’s another ship out there, and it’s apparently heading our way. That first sighting was in the Tyrrhenian Sea, and apparently this ship ran up north and on through the Bonifacio Strait.”

“An Italian ship?”

“That’s what we thought at first, but there was an engagement off the western approaches to Bonifacio that set Admiralty on its head. Apparently this ship tangled with a couple of Italian battleships, and came off the better