much like the aluminum sided half dome Quonset Huts he was familiar with on US bases, until a curious telephone call came in from the British.
It seemed the Germans were up to something in the Denmark Strait, and they caught the British with their air squadrons all assigned to patrol runs to the south. The British commander asked if the Americans could possibly get a PBY or two up to have a look, and Vosseller was only too happy to accommodate them. It beat sitting around in that frigid hut. There was not even any kerosene about to heat the damn thing!
The Americans and the British would soon define a cooperative agreement that would see the United States largely responsible for the defense of the Denmark Strait. But as yet those negotiations had not been concluded. The sudden appearance of this dangerous and somewhat mysterious new German raider, however, was about to change the situation considerably.
Unbeknownst to Vosseller, his brief reconnaissance flight was to become the first official action in Admiral King’s Operation Plan Five, initiated on 15 July 1941. In that plan the Admiral ordered the Atlantic Fleet to support the defense of Iceland and to “capture or destroy vessels engaged in support of sea and air operations directed against Western Hemisphere territory, or United States or Iceland flagged shipping.” US units were authorized to engage any “potentially hostile vessels,” and the newly reorganized Task Force 1 centered on the new aircraft carrier Wasp was authorized to protect and defend all friendly shipping between United States ports, and Iceland.
FDR communicated the intent of the policy to admiral Stark when he wrote to him that very month: “It is necessary under the conditions of modern warfare to recognize that the words ‘threat of attack’ may extend reasonably long distances away from a convoyed ship or ships. It thus seems clear that the very presence of a German submarine or raider on or near the line of communications constitutes ‘threat of attack.’ Therefore, the presence of any German submarine or raider should be dealt with by action looking to the elimination of such ‘threat of attack’ on the lines of communication, or close to it.” Admiral King would subsequently modify the phrase “close to it” to read “within 100 miles.” There was to be no hesitation in handling these potential threats. Admiral Stark would chime in with clear orders defining the American response: “ If there is conclusive evidence that she is a combatant naval vessel, either merchant type raider or a regular naval vessel, she shall be destroyed.”
The days ahead would see the American navy operating in a strange limbo between war and peace that was, in effect, an undeclared war. Admiral Stark made no bones about it when he said: “Whether the country knows it or not, we are at war.” The situation was very delicate, and Vosseller had some misgivings as he headed out to sea in his PBY that afternoon, rather hoping he would have an uneventful trip. It was not long before he found himself in a most interesting position. He would spot and report the very first violation the new King policy, and do so at a very critical time. It was Vosseller’s luck to stumble across the Russian battlecruiser just as he had completed the outward leg of his patrol and was turning for home.
Aboard Kirov, Admiral Volsky had just relieved Captain Karpov, who was ending his watch, and thankfully so. When the contact came in on radar, Karpov's initial intention was to destroy it quickly. Volsky's presence moderated the response however, as the Admiral had been reading up the previous night, and Fedorov had urged him to be cautious, telling him about the recent American occupation of Iceland and suggesting that this was likely to be an American plane.
“We are already at war with the British,” said Volsky. “Yes, this plane may spot us, but they will tell the British little more than they already know. It is obvious to them that we are running the Denmark Strait. I do not think we need to engage the Americans here. Let it pass.”
As the contact did not appear threatening, and because he believed the British already had a fix on his position, Admiral Volsky elected not to engage the plane. He was gratified when Rodenko reported it had turned and was now heading back to Iceland.
Vosseller was lumbering along in his big bullfrog of a plane, a flying boat with a thick hull for water landings and a small pontoon dangling from each wing. He had first seen the contact on a new British radar set that had been installed in his PBY a few weeks earlier, but he found the reading was soon awash in static and interference. He shook his head, writing it off to bad workmanship by the Brits. Yet he had been curious enough to continue on his heading, hoping to take a look himself the old fashioned way. Vosseller soon had had an eye full of the ship he was still scratching his head about.
When his radio report came in at Reykjavik, it sounded much like that given by the British patrols that had first managed to lay eyes on the Russian battlecruiser. “Sighted what appears to be a large cruiser, or a large commercial ship steaming south to the Denmark Strait.” He gave his best estimate of position course and speed, and then banked into a low drift of clouds, heading for home. At least he had the presence of mind to flip on his forward cameras as well, and got several decent pictures of the contact that would confound the analysts for days to come.
At his communications post aboard Kirov, Lieutenant Isaac Nikolin heard the American’s radio message in the clear, as Vosseller had stupidly made no effort to code it. “We've been spotted again, sir,” he notified the Admiral, relating what the American pilot had said.
Volsky smiled. They still have no idea who and what we are, he thought. All the better, though he realized the situation would likely change, and very soon. Mister Fedorov had reminded him of something else-the American president was as sea.
The previous day, on August 3rd, Franklin Delano Roosevelt had set out on the presidential yacht Potomac for what was described as a fishing trip. In fact he had secretly boarded US heavy cruiser Augusta and was even now headed for the new American naval base at Argentia in Newfoundland. The President’s yacht returned via the Cape Cod Canal with a fireman, presidential aide, and an army general dressed out in summer whites and posing on the forward deck lounge chairs with a pipe as if they were FDR and his party. They waved at a curious public lining the banks and gawking at them from overhead bridges as they passed, quietly enjoying their mission. The deception kept the lid of secrecy on Roosevelt's planned meeting with Churchill in just a few days time.
Not only would these two remarkable men be present, the meeting was also attended by the heads of the Army and Navy on both sides, a gaggle of high-ranking officers and other dignitaries. The gold on the hat bands, collars and cuffs would be fairly thick, as the British were intent on engaging in negotiations with the Americans.
The Prime Minister had already boarded the battleship Prince of Wales at Scapa Flow earlier that morning, and the ship slipped quietly out to sea with only the very highest senior ranks in the Navy and War Cabinet aware of what was happening, and many of them were aboard. Volsky was still considering what to do about this meeting, and weighing his options if they held to this course.
That same morning another man on the ship was exploring the same corridors of thought, though with a very different mind on the matter. Captain Karpov had cornered Fedorov below decks while the Admiral was on the bridge. He marched him into the officer’s ward room and, to the navigator’s surprise, he locked the door.
“All right Fedorov, what is this book you’ve been reading from and bending the Admiral's ear with these last several days?”
“Sir? It's a naval history, a chronology of the war at sea that has fairly detailed information about operations conducted during this time, throughout the whole of the war in fact.”
Karpov eyes narrowed. “And where is this book?”
“At the moment, the Admiral has been reading it in his cabin,” said Fedorov.
“I would like to have a look at it. After all, I am Captain of the ship even if a fleet admiral is aboard. How is it you did not think to inform me as well?”
“I'm sorry, sir. You seemed unwilling to consider the possibility early on, and I did not want to offend you by pushing the matter. The Admiral was particularly interested in what I had to say, so I loaned him the book at his request. I meant no disrespect, sir.”
“Of course not,” said Karpov, changing his tack somewhat. He clasped his navigator on the shoulder. “Very well, Mister Fedorov, as you were. I will ask the Admiral about it myself.” He went to the door, opening the latch. “Dismissed, Lieutenant. That will be all.”
“As Fedorov edged past him, the Captain spoke again. “One other thing, Fedorov,” he said. “The next time you contradict me in front of the Admiral…” He gave the Navigator a hard look that finished the sentence well
