“Sir?”
“Why did you come here today? Why not yesterday, or the day you first went to the docks, or tomorrow?”
Paul was at a loss for words. He sat silently. Neither man knew where the conversation would lead.
“You’re a good intelligence officer, Lieutenant. You put things together and you keep them to yourself, for the most part.” He added the latter comment with a touch of irony and the ghost of a smile. “I have the honor of being your excepted audience. I gather you’ve heard about the operation at Saint-Nazaire today?”
Paul hesitated, and then nodded.
“You’re hoping your brothers are there.”
Paul drew back, closing his eyes and sighing. “I don’t know.” Looking up again, he continued hurriedly, “I don’t want to be wishy-washy, but I’ve followed the success of each evacuation operation. We brought home a lot of our comrades, but we lost huge numbers of them too. The results at Veules-les-Roses were mixed at best. Cherbourg was a disaster, but at Brest, there was little German resistance. The difference appears to be how much support the air forces provided.”
Crockatt pursed his lips and nodded. “I see what you mean, but I don’t know what can be done about it. We’re still building up our air capability.” He gave Paul another studious glance. “Why should that concern you today in particular?”
Paul drew a deep breath. “Because a convoy of transport ships, destroyers, and another flotilla of small private boats are at Saint-Nazaire now, being loaded with tens of thousands of soldiers. I believe it’s called Operation Aerial. The Luftwaffe rules the sky there. Without support from the air, our ships are sitting ducks, and so are the soldiers we’re trying to bring home.” He stared directly into Crockatt’s eyes.
“I see,” the major said. “I don’t know what can be done on that score from this office. You know, I’m familiar with the support that is there now, and it’s formidable. I can’t discuss it with you, but Britannia still rules the waves, and that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” He let the moment ride, and then changed the subject. “Have you given any more thought to transferring over here? The offer is still open.”
“I have, sir, but I’ve made no decision.”
“Please do give it consideration. You’ve developed a keen concern about our soldiers caught behind enemy lines, and our mission is to help precisely those men.”
Paul sensed that the conversation was ending and stood to leave. “Thank you. You’ve been most courteous.” He headed toward the door, then paused and turned back. “If you have any influence at all, perhaps you could call one of the higher powers to direct air cover for those ships.”
Taken aback a bit, Crockatt arched his eyebrows and smiled. “I’m afraid you’ve overestimated my power, but I’ll try.”
Paul nodded his appreciation and departed.
As soon as Paul had left the office, Crockatt summoned his secretary. “Get Air Chief Marshal Sir Hugh Dowding on the secure line for me, would you, please?” He stood, rocking on his feet, deep in thought.
“Will that be all, sir?” the secretary asked.
“No,” he said, pulling himself back to the present. “Do an inquiry for me. Call down to the unit of Second Lieutenant Jeremy Littlefield. I believe he is from Sark in the Channel Isles. I think he deployed to France with one of those engineer units building infrastructure during the Phoney War, and that he went missing in action at Dunkirk. I want to know which unit he was with, and if he shows up, I want him here at first opportunity. If I need to speak to his commanding officer, I’ll be happy to do so.”
“Anything else?”
“Do the same for Corporal Lance Littlefield, and please stay on it.”
“Right, and I’ll put that call through straightaway.”
When Crockatt answered the phone an hour later, he recognized Dowding’s thin, high-pitched voice and clipped manner of speaking.
“You must want something, Norman. We haven’t spoken in some time.” Dowding’s notorious irascibility marked his stern tone. “What can I do for you?”
“Yes. Well there has been a war on, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”
“And neither of us has time to joust, even in jest. What’s on your mind?”
Crockatt related his conversation with Paul regarding the ships at Saint-Nazaire and their lack of air support.
When he finished, Dowding sighed tiredly. “That lieutenant deduces too much, but he’s exactly right. The truth is the fighters are spread thin on higher priority targets.”
“With all due respect, sir, what priority could be higher than covering the escape of tens of thousands of men who’ve already given far beyond what could be expected?”
A short silence ensued. “We’ve been friends a long time, Norman, but what you imply with that question toes close to the line. Besides the three hundred and thirty thousand men we brought out of Dunkirk, we have since rescued at least another one hundred and twenty thousand more. We’ve not been negligent.”
“So, these men at Saint-Nazaire represent a small fraction of the whole and should thus be considered expendable?”
Dowding’s response was terse, bordering on exasperation. “Nothing disastrous has happened to any of those boats. One was fired on from the air this morning, but no major damage was done. At least we’ve received no reports in that regard. You’re browbeating me about a calamity that hasn’t occurred. We just don’t have any fighters to spare, as I’m sure you already know.” He paused a moment and softened his tone. “I wish I could do more, but I just don’t have the assets. Even if I could divert some, it’s too late in the day. They wouldn’t arrive at Saint-Nazaire in time.”
Another silence ensued, and then Dowding said, “They’re not completely defenseless, you know. That’s a good complement of destroyers we have there and they all have anti-aircraft munitions, including the troop carriers.” A heavy silence followed, then he broke it by continuing. “Don’t worry, when
