Back to Battle (9 page)

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Authors: Max Hennessy

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It was as dusk approached on the second day that the navigator spotted her making south, a grey-hulled ship hard to see against the misty background of the land. As they closed, it was possible to pick out the German ensign and finally the name on her stern.

‘There are two torpedo boats with her, sir,’ the officer of the watch called out, his binoculars to his eyes. ‘Norwegian, I think.’

‘Signal her to stop.’

As they drew closer, the Norwegian vessels ranged themselves alongside Kölndom, preventing the destroyers from going close, and abreast Sebring Fjord, she swung abruptly to port, increased speed and vanished through the narrow entrance, with the Norwegians close behind, blocking the channel.

Kelly beat softly on the bridge coaming with his gloved fist. ‘Bloody Norwegians,’ he muttered. ‘Their idea of neutrality seems to be curiously weighted in favour of Hitler.’

Feudal lay off the entrance to the fjord, with Freelance, Wrestler and Vandyke further out to sea watching the escape route. They had reached an impasse. The naval and military experts on board Kölndom made her a legitimate target, but so far they were only suspected, and if they were not on board Feudal had no right to interfere. But what if they were on board?

Kelly was just wondering what to do when the signals officer handed him a signal.

‘Home Fleet’s out, sir,’ he announced. ‘They must be expecting a break-out of German capital ships, because we’ve got two battleships, a battle cruiser, four cruisers and twenty-one destroyers at sea.

Kelly grunted. ‘Last time the Home Fleet went looking for the Germans twenty-two years ago,’ he said, ‘it mustered thirty-five battleships and battlecruisers, twenty-six cruisers and eighty-five destroyers.’

He frowned, wondering if the breakout of German capital ships made it possible to push the matter of Kölndom a stage further. He was just considering the possibilities when one of the Volunteer Reserve officers by the name of Harstatt appeared on the bridge. ‘Sir,’ he announced. ‘My father was a Norwegian who became a naturalised Englishman. I speak fluent German and Norwegian. Can I help?’

‘I’m damn sure you can,’ Kelly said, making up his mind at once. ‘My German’s very dubious and I have no Norwegian at all. Hail the Norwegians and invite the senior officer on board.’

The Norwegian commanding officer, a big man with hair as red as Kelly’s own, was clearly unhappy at the situation but stiff with pride. ‘Norway is not at war with Germany,’ he insisted, ‘any more than she is with Britain. My orders are to ensure our rights over our own waters.’

‘Germany shows scant regard for your rights,’ Kelly argued. ‘I have reason to believe Kölndom has German naval and military experts aboard.’

The Norwegian shook his head. ‘She has twice been examined since her entry into Norwegian waters and there are only German merchant sailors aboard. My instructions are to resist entry by force. My torpedo tubes are already trained on your ship.’

It appeared to be a deadlock and, as the Norwegian returned to his command, Kelly retired to his cabin with the flotilla signals officer and Harstatt.

‘I dare bet the bugger never examined her,’ he snapped.

‘They’re scared stiff of upsetting the Germans. What’s your opinion, Harstatt?’

‘I’m inclined to agree, sir.’

‘Right. Then let’s make a signal to the Admiralty asking for instructions. This seems to be a case for the Foreign Office, because any hurried action on our part might push Norway into the arms of the Nazis and nobody wants that.’

Taking the ship beyond the entrance to the fjord, they waited for the reply. Close under the bleak shoreline with its high steep mountains and hidden inlets, it was bitterly cold and, as the early darkness came, the men on deck shivered, flapping their arms against the wintry weather. It was late in the evening and pitch dark when the reply came. Its text seemed to suggest that Churchill himself had had a hand in it.

‘UNLESS NORWEGIANS WILLING TO ESCORT KÖLNDOM TO BERGEN WITH JOINT ANGLO-NORWEGIAN GUARD ON BOARD YOU SHOULD TAKE POSSESSION PENDING FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS. SUGGEST YOU WARN NORWEGIANS HONOUR COULD BE SERVED BY SUBMITTING TO SUPERIOR FORCE.’

It seemed to cover everything and, closing the Norwegian torpedo boats from where Feudal could rake their decks without their torpedoes being able to reply the sense of the signal was made clear.

There was a long wait, with them all grey-faced and red-nosed with the cold, then eventually the first lieutenant appeared at the door of Kelly’s cabin, grinning.

‘The Norwegians appear to have decided honour is satisfied, sir,’ he announced. ‘They’re withdrawing.’

‘Good.’ Kelly reached for his cap and made for the bridge. The men by the guns and torpedo tubes looked expectantly at him, their faces pale in the shadows.

‘Half ahead both. Navigator, keep your eye on that chart. Let’s have the look-outs alerted.’

Slowly they picked their way into the dark fjord. It was faintly awe-inspiring in its silence and loneliness, with only the low hum of the turbines and the wash of the oily water alongside. Rounding a bend, they saw Kölndom, her bows facing shorewards, her hull black against the snow.

‘Is she aground?’

‘No, sir, up against the ice so that if they have to, their “guests” can escape across it.’

Kelly nodded. ‘We’ll board. Harstatt had better do it since he speaks German.’

The first lieutenant drew attention to packing cases lashed on Kölndom’s deck. ‘She’s supposed to have hidden six-inchers, sir. Could they be behind the cases?’

Kelly grunted. ‘If they are, we’ll just have to see who shoots faster. Have the guns trained on them and at the slightest movement from them, they’re to fire.’

As he turned, he bumped into Rumbelo, waiting by the ladder. He was clad in gaiters and steel helmet and was armed with a revolver.

‘Where the hell are you going?’ Kelly demanded.

‘Reporting for the boarding party, sir.’

Kelly grinned. ‘Take ’em off, Albert,’ he said. ‘Tin hats always did look like tits on mountains on you.’

‘Aren’t we going aboard her, sir?’

‘No, we’re not. War’s a young man’s game and you and I are too bloody old these days.’

Rumbelo looked hurt, then he grinned. ‘I thought I might as well try, sir.’

Clearly the only way to handle the business was to go alongside Kölndom as fast as possible. Her captain had trained his searchlight on Feudal’s bridge in the hope of blinding her officers and, as they approached, she suddenly went astern at full speed in the hope of ramming.

‘Full astern, both!’ The navigator spoke calmly into the engine room voice pipe. ‘Hard-a-starboard!’

Kölndom’s blunt stern scraped Feudal’s bow and, as they slid alongside, Harstatt leapt like a stag for Kölndom’s deck. The petty officer who followed him missed by a yard and fell into the icy water from which he was only rescued by a hastily thrown rope. As the rest of the party scrambled across, there was a hurried scuffle then a shot crashed across the silent fjord and Kölndom slid slowly ahead, her bows crunching into the ice, until she was brought up sharp with a jerk, her nose aground. Another flurry of shots came and one of the boarding party fell, then the German crew began to scramble over the side.

‘You all right, Harstatt?’

Kelly’s breath hung frostily in the air as he shouted. Harstatt appeared from below and waved. ‘Yes, sir. One of the Jerries attempted to move the ship’s telegraph. We have the experts, sir, two of them naval captains. There’s also a German general as well, to say nothing of reams of documents and instruments that look as if they’ve come off Graf Spee. I had one man wounded as the crew got ashore.’

The Germans who had escaped ashore were sniping at Feudal’s crew now but, easy targets against the snow, they were quickly silenced. Kelly made up his mind quickly.

‘We’ll tow you off,’ he shouted. ‘And put a prize crew aboard. See that your prisoners are shoved below hatches. You’ll be sailing her back to England.’

 

They had just seen Kölndom off to the west with her secrets, when the signals officer appeared with a long signal.

‘Intercepted message from Glowworm, sir,’ he announced. ‘She appears to have sighted German heavy ships. Repulse is going to her assistance with four destroyers. We’re ordered to join Renown.’

Half an hour later, as they turned west, the signals officer was back. ‘Glowworm’s stopped signalling, sir. It looks as if she’s run into the enemy and been sunk.’

Kelly frowned. If Glowworm had indeed run into German heavies, the contest must have been short and sharp, and there would be little chance for her ship’s company in the icy northern waters in the blackness of the night.

Outside the fjord a wind had got up from the north-west and as it increased they had to reduce speed. A signal arrived to indicate German ships were entering Oslo Fjord and approaching Bergen, Stavanger and Trondheim, and Kelly swore.

‘This isn’t a break-out! ‘he said. ‘It’s a bloody invasion!’

Their speed further reduced by the increasingly bad weather, they continued to head north and the following morning they learned that Renown had met and engaged the German battlecruisers, Gneisenau and Scharnhorst, and that Admiral Forbes’ group had been attacked by bombers and the destroyer, Gurkha, sunk. Half-way to their rendezvous, another signal ordered them to Narvik to support the Second Destroyer Flotilla. As they crashed northwards, the signals officer brought an intercepted signal from the Second Destroyer Flotilla itself.

‘NORWEGIANS REPORT GERMANS HOLDING NARVIK IN FORCE. SIX DESTROYERS AND ONE SUBMARINE. CHANNEL POSSIBLY MINED. INTEND ATTACKING AT DAWN HIGH WATER.’

‘Full revolutions,’ Kelly ordered. ‘I want to be there, too.’

With Vandyck and Wrestler trailing behind in the heavy seas, Feudal and Freelance arrived off the fjord in the early hours of the next day. As the revolutions dropped and the crashing of the water diminished, they could distinctly hear the sound of gunfire from deep inside the fjord.

‘Second Flotilla seems to have found the Germans,’ Kelly commented. ‘Make to Admiralty, C-in-C, Home Fleet, and the Second Destroyer Flotilla: “Am going in, in support.” Warn Wrestler to wait in the entrance as guard ship. Freelance and Vandyke to follow Feudal. They will operate independently.’

Through the mist, near the pilot station at Tranöy they caught sight of a large freighter heading north-east and a glimpse of the German flag at her stern, then the mist closed again and she was gone.

‘Leave her,’ Kelly ordered. ‘We can pick her up on the way out.’

They passed the entrance to Tjeldsundetfjord, picking their way carefully through the swirling tendrils of smoky vapour, catching brief glimpses of the land as they went. It wasn’t hard to guess that the Second Flotilla had done a lot of damage and was now on its way out. Hamnesholm, Tjellebotn and Djupvik slid past to starboard, the high hills covered with fir trees that were black against the snow, then, as they rounded the corner to where the narrow waters of Ofotfjord opened out, they saw a running fight approaching them, British destroyers retiring at full speed, followed by the bigger German vessels, which appeared to be coming from Herjangsfjord and Ballangenfjord opposite. The retiring destroyers seemed to have been caught between two forces, and one of the British ships was already disabled and drifting towards the shore near Virek, another was sinking and a third appeared to be out of control. Narvik harbour behind, in front of Framnes, was a shamble of sinking ships, the houses obscured by rolling clouds of black and yellow smoke where fires were burning, and through the confusion the Germans seemed to be firing with light field guns.

One of the fleeing destroyers was laying a smoke screen and it seemed a good idea to add to it.

‘Full ahead both,’ Kelly said. ‘Make smoke. Hoist battle ensign.’

They were flying through the water now. Inside the fjord there seemed to be no wind, but the water was turbulent with the washes of swiftly-moving ships, so that Feudal kept lurching savagely, thumping into each small wave as if it were made of concrete, and they could hear the crash and rattle of crockery and tinware below. In the engine room, a red light had glowed on the bulkhead and valves were being adjusted to admit just too much oil and shut off just too much air to allow complete combustion. As the black coils began to pour from the funnels the first lieutenant looked up.

‘Greasy hydrocarbons,’ he said. ‘Known as smoke.’

Kelly clung to his bridge stool as it bucked beneath him, unaware of the motion as the reflexes of years adjusted to enable him to keep his seat. With three minutes of smoke, they could lay a bank a mile long for the retreating ships, and the Germans weren’t going to be in a hurry to plunge through it after them without knowing what was on the other side. As they crossed the paths of the oncoming ships at full speed, he turned to the voice pipe.

‘Guns, I’m turning to starboard in a moment. We shall then be going through the smoke and you’ll find the Germans just about red five as we come out. It’ll take us just about two minutes. Open fire when you’re ready.’

As they came round on to their own wake, they saw the British destroyers emerge from the smoke, tearing it into wisps with the speed of their passage, and a light flashed a message of thanks.

‘Now for the Germans!’

‘They have five-inchers against our four-point-sevens, sir,’ the first lieutenant pointed out, not nervously but matter-of-factly.

‘With a projectile twice as heavy,’ Kelly agreed. ‘Thank you, Number One. I expect we’ll manage.’

What little wind there was carried the smoke to port and, as they resumed course, they plunged into a darkness that stank of unburnt fuel oil. It filled their nostrils and lungs and made them cough and the ship became silent with the silence of alertness.

For a while they endured the smoke, their eyes smarting, trying to hold their breath, then they were leaping clear of it into the daylight again just opposite Bogen Bay. Directly ahead was a large merchantman wearing the German flag. Her decks were crowded with soldiers and, as Feudal swung, her torpedoes plunged into the stirred water like swimmers in a racing dive. As they came round they saw a flash that completely obscured the German ship, then a second later there was a shattering crash that echoed and re-echoed among the surrounding hills.

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