by Ian Blake
‘And they still have their warheads?’
‘Of course,’ said Balbao.
‘What’s in them?’
‘In them?’ Balbao looked bewildered.
‘What explosive does your navy use in its torpedoes?’ Tiller asked, suppressing his impatience with difficulty.
‘What you call Torpex. What else would it be?’
‘How much is in each torpedo?’
‘Two hundred and fifty kilograms.’
That was more than enough. ‘And would you agree to have it taken out of the warheads?’
Balbao stared at Tiller. ‘What are you planning, Sergeant?’
When Tiller explained his scheme, Balbao’s face lit up. ‘I used to be a member of the 10th Light Flotilla. They were the only part of the navy which did anything.’
‘And I want the exploder mechanisms as well.’
‘It can be done.’
‘Torpex?’ Larssen queried when Tiller explained that he had asked Balbao to extract the explosive warhead from the torpedoes.
‘It’s a mixture of RDX, TNT and powdered aluminium, skipper. Half as powerful again as TNT on its own.’
‘So you want to make up a special charge? Aren’t your limpet mines good enough?’
‘I’ve got a better idea. This is what we’re going to sink those destroyers with.’ Tiller pointed down at the speedboat.
Larssen stared down at the sleek mahogany hull shrouded beneath its camouflage netting. ‘But it’s a plaything, Tiger, just a holiday boat.’
‘But it’s fast, skipper, very fast.’
He went on to explain about the work that was being carried out by the Royal Marine Boom Patrol Detachment, and how its boom patrol boat was modelled on the Italians’ explosive motor boat, or EMB.
‘If Jock is as good a mechanic as the lieutenant says he is we can turn this boat into a barchino.’
The others were waiting for them when they returned to the SBS headquarters. Larssen explained the situation and then let Tiller describe his plan. The others listened in stunned silence.
When Tiller had finished, Warrington said: ‘Are you seriously telling us you intend to turn this speedboat into an EMB by packing its bows with Torpex from the MAS boat’s torpedoes? And then you intend to drive it up to the harbour and let it rip, and then bale out?’
Tiller nodded.
Larssen looked at the caique’s stoker. ‘Jock? It’s possible?’
Bryson scratched his cheek, his Scottish caution making him consider the matter carefully. ‘Aye, it’s possible all right. There’s no problem with the explosive charge. The difficulty is making the boat run straight after Tiger’s left it.’
‘Sounds fucking suicidal to me,’ Warrington said.
‘It’s been done,’ Tiller reminded him.
‘Where?’
‘Suda Bay, April 1941. The Eyeties used EMBs to wreck the cruiser York and a tanker.’
‘And the drivers survived?’
‘They did.’
Warrington shook his head in wonderment. ‘Rather you than me, Tiger.’
‘You say there are three methods of detonating the explosive?’ Larssen said.
‘That’s right. Impact, hydrostatic, and with time fuses. The last isn’t an option in this case as the exact time it would take the boat to reach the target is too imprecise to calculate.’
‘What did the Eyeties use at Suda Bay?’
‘Hydrostatic. That’s how depth-charges are detonated. When the pressure of the water reaches a certain amount per square inch it triggers the detonator mechanism. In the case of the EMB an impact fuse detaches the bow containing the explosive when the vessel hits its target. The bow sinks under the target and is then detonated by the hydrostatic fuse.’
‘Very inventive, the Italians,’ Barnesworth commented. ‘They can’t fight, but they’re inventive, I’ll give them that.’
‘It’s the most effective way of sinking a target,’ Tiller said, ‘but I don’t have any hydrostatic fuses. It might be possible to make one, but then we’d have to fashion a method of detaching the motor boat’s bows when it hits the target. We haven’t got the time and it’s much too complicated.’
‘That leaves an impact fuse,’ Larssen said.
‘It’s the simplest method and a torpedo’s fuse mechanism can easily be adapted to explode the charge when it strikes the target.’
‘But you can only hit the outboard destroyer,’ Barnesworth objected.
‘But if we hit it with the explosives from two torpedoes it could take the other with it if we’re lucky.’
‘And how do you escape?’
‘Swim to a predesignated place where Billy can pick me up in the cockle which the MAS boat will carry to the area. We can then rendezvous with the MAS boat. We’ll be back here before any Kraut will have woken up to what’s happening. There will be such chaos in the harbour that it will take them ages to work out what occurred.’ There was a pause while everyone digested what Tiller was proposing, and then Maygan said: ‘It’s either the most fiendishly clever plan I’ve ever heard anyone come up with – or it’s the daftest, as well as the quickest, method of getting a posthumous VC. I’m not sure which. I’ll have to sleep on it before I make up my mind.’
‘No time for that, Andrew,’ retorted Larssen. ‘Anyone got a better idea?’
No one had.
‘Right,’ said Larssen. ‘What do you need, Tiger?’
‘Once we’ve made the necessary alterations I must find out how the speedboat steers on its own with its rudder locked. I’ll need the caique to help me.’
‘Can’t do it here,’ said Maygan firmly. ‘Too risky. We’ll tow the boat across to the mainland tomorrow night. I know just the spot there. Totally deserted.’
Larssen stood up. ‘Let’s get the boat out of the water and under cover where we can work on it.’
Using a block and tackle set up on the caique’s boom, they lifted the boat out of the water and on to an old wagon they had found and pushed it to a nearby warehouse, where Griffiths and Bryson could work without being disturbed or seen. While they started work Maygan and Tiller walked to the MAS boat to join Larssen and Balbao, who were poring over a chart of the waters off northern Rhodes.
‘We can take the boat and the cockle quite close to the port,’ the Italian said, ‘and then wait for the cockle down the coast. Around here.’
He pointed to the chart.
‘Provided the weather is good, there should be no problem. There might be a local current, but we’ll just have to risk that.’
‘How close do you need to get to the destroyers?’ Larssen asked Tiller.
‘The closer the better.’
‘And how do you get close without being seen or heard?’
Tiller shrugged. ‘That’s a risk I’ll have to take.’
‘Jock said the speedboat’s engine at low speed would be very quiet,’ said Maygan. ‘But that once you open its throttle it will make a hell of a racket. I think Magnus has put his finger on what is the weak link in the plan. What we need is a diversion.’
‘I go along with that,’ said Tiller. ‘Would the RAF be willing to mount a night raid?’
‘No bombers closer than Cairo,’ Larssen was thinking aloud. ‘They might agree to send out a couple of Beaufighters from Cyprus. But their range is limited and they wouldn’t be able to stay long. It would need split-second timing for them to be over the port at just the right moment. If they arrived too soon they’d just wake up the defences; if they arrived too late we’d be risking two valuable aircraft and their crews for nothing. No, I think we’re going to have to do without the RAF.’
‘The navy?’ Tiller suggested, but Larssen simply said: ‘Why do you think we’re sitting here, thinking up a crazy plan to get you killed, Tiger?’
‘I could take the caique and we could shoot up Mandraki harbour with the Solothurn,’ Maygan said eagerly.
‘It needs something like that,’ Larssen admitted. ‘But I don’
t think the Solothurn is exactly going to cause any panic ashore.’
Tiller snapped his fingers. ‘I’ve got it, skipper. We could put a couple of limpet mines on the garrison launch and send that towards the shore unmanned. We’ll put a time fuse in it so that it goes up just as I’m ready to send the speedboat in.’
Larssen looked doubtful. ‘It could just alert the defenders. There’s no guarantee it will cause a diversion.’
‘I could shell the harbour,’ suggested Balbao, but Larssen and Maygan vetoed the idea immediately on the grounds that the MAS boat was more valuable as a means of escape than as a diversion.
In the end a compromise was reached and it was agreed that the garrison launch would be used and that the MAS boat would only open fire if something went wrong with using the launch as a diversion.
When they returned to the warehouse Griffiths had already fashioned a flutterboard which, when a catch was released, slid along rails and off the speedboat’s counter. Bryson’s task, of making a control for the boat’s throttle which would work from the flutterboard, was more complicated, but he had no doubts that he could do it.
Tiller had to devise a means whereby the Torpex would be exploded when the boat hit its target. The simplest solution was to insert a detonator mechanism from one of the torpedoes into the bow of the boat. But Tiller soon decided that it was expecting too much for the boat to hit its target with such accuracy. It was much more likely to hit on one side of the bow or the other. So he decided to fit the same kind of bumper as he had seen on the EMB at Southsea. Any pressure on the bumper would trigger the torpedo’s detonator mechanism.
The next evening the speedboat, with its deadly cargo, was put back in the water. It floated bow down, but when Tiller climbed on to the flutterboard it came back on to an even keel, though it was noticeably lower in the water.
That night Maygan towed the speedboat across to the mainland and at dawn the next day Tiller began by testing how straight the boat ran at different speeds without any manual adjustment to the steering wheel to keep it on course. In the flat water of the Turkish bay it held a straight course with very little assistance up to about twenty knots, but beyond that speed it needed an increasingly firm hand on the wheel.
Tiller then tied the wheel with the rudder amidships and let the boat rip. This time it ran smoothly and straight up to about thirty-five knots, but if he increased the speed beyond that it began to yaw.
Next he tested how far it would run in a straight line at different speeds as he had to calculate at what distance from the target he would be able to leave the boat to run on its own. The closer he got to the harbour mouth the more likely he was to be spotted, but the closer he got the more likely he was to hit his target. He had calculated from the chart that the harbour was about 200 yards long and that the pierhead on its left, which included the quay for steamers, was another hundred.
On the other side, to seaward of the sea wall, was the pierhead of Mandraki harbour. He just hoped it did not have guards patrolling it as he would have to get very close to it before baling out. This meant that altogether the boat would have to run for a minimum of 400 yards on its own, much further, he knew, than the Italians had run at Suda Bay.
Maygan marked off this distance with two buoys and after experimenting Tiller found the speed at which the boat ran rock steady for this distance was about thirty knots. So, he calculated, it would take the boat about thirty seconds to reach its target. Tiller knew the German defences would be trying to locate the speedboat and sink it immediately he opened up its engine. But it would take time to focus their searchlights and aim their weapons – not easy to do on an object travelling at thirty knots over water on a dark night.
‘Looks remarkably steady,’ said Maygan when Tiller returned to the caique. ‘Mind you, I still think it’s a crackpot idea.’
He insisted that Tiller practise controlling the speedboat from its counter and then, while Maygan was aboard, sliding into the water with the flutterboard. The speedboat’s propeller was fixed forward of the counter, so Tiller found there was no danger of being hit by it as he dropped off the counter into the water. He also found that Griffiths had given him an unexpected bonus by shaping the board so that it was quite easy to propel through the water with his hands and by kicking gently with his feet.
What would have been useful would have been those swim fins for his feet which had been captured from the Italians and which Tasler had been experimenting with. Combined Operations calculated they increased both a swimmer’s power and endurance by a hundred per cent. But even without these aids Tiller found he was able to progress at a reasonable speed.
Once darkness had fallen they returned to Simi. While they had been away Bryson had altered the steering of the garrison launch so that it could be clamped using the same method as Bryson had devised for the speedboat. But as accuracy was unimportant it was decided that there was no need to test it.
By noon everything had been prepared and Tiller and the others, who had been working throughout the night, got a few hours’ sleep before having a meal. As soon as darkness fell they boarded the MAS boat, and the cockle and the speedboat were hoisted aboard. The launch was too big to be stowed on deck and was towed astern.
The night seemed ideal for the operation. It was overcast, very dark, and with practically no wind. The MAS boat cut its speed to ten knots both to conserve fuel and to prevent the launch from yawing too wildly on the end of its painter. Halfway across a bottle of brandy was passed round and Tiller changed into his surface-swimmer’s suit and Barnesworth into his paddler’s suit.
It was the first time Tiller had worn the suit since he had arrived in the region and he checked it carefully before he donned it, making sure there were no holes in the rubberized fabric and that the urination valve and the mouth-inflated rubber stole, used for buoyancy, worked properly. He carried his commando knife in a sheath attached to his belt, but was otherwise unarmed. Also hooked to the belt was a signalling torch and a small watertight flask filled with brandy. Barnesworth had the cockle fully equipped with food and water and two silent Stens.
The MAS boat arrived off Rhodes port before midnight and eased its way inshore with its engines hardly ticking over. The island was just a hump in front of them. They could hear nothing and the port was so efficiently blacked out that they could not see anything either. When they were about five miles offshore Balbao brought the MAS boat to a standstill, and the cockle, with Barnesworth aboard, and the speedboat, were lowered into the water.
Barnesworth paddled off without pausing as he needed to be in position well before the attack was launched. The cockle was quickly swallowed up in the dark and Tiller, who was watching it, was relieved that it faded out of sight so swiftly. Poor visibility was a bonus he had not expected. He clambered down into the speedboat carefully and started its engine with the MAS boat between him and the shore.
Luckily, there was a slight offshore breeze which would help carry away the sound of his engine. Alongside him Larssen was making last-minute adjustments to the launch.
‘When you’re in position, you flash the letter “R” and I’ll release the launch,’ Larssen said and then repeated his instructions. He knew that apprehension and the cold did terrible things to the memory; he always believed that operational instructions could not be repeated too often. Tiller nodded.
‘When you signal I’ll put a five-minute time pencil in the limpet mines,’ Larssen said. ‘That should give you plenty of time.’
They made sure their watches were synchronized. Then Larssen leant across and gripped Tiller’s hand. ‘Good luck. See you in a couple of hours.’
‘Thanks, skipper.’
Larssen let go the warps holding the speedboat and Tiller slipped its engine into gear and edged it round the stationary MAS boat.
Griffiths had fixed a compass in the speedboat’s cockpit and Tiller steered due south by it. He strained his eyes into the blackness, and kept the revs of the engine right dow
n so that the speedboat crept forward with hardly any way on it.
At first he encountered a slight swell but as the boat edged towards the land the sea became quite flat. Slowly his eyesight became used to the dark and gradually, very gradually, the island began to take shape in front of him, and after about twenty minutes he could make out the outlines of the port.
Soon Tiller was inshore of Cape Zonari, the most northerly part of the island, which lay to starboard of him, and he turned and flashed an ‘R’ with his shaded torch out to sea. He repeated the signal twice more, noted the time on the slate he carried, and then turned his attention once more to the shore.
Almost immediately he saw the outline of the castle against the night sky and realized he was too far to the right of Emborikos harbour. That meant there was more of a lateral inshore current than Balbao had thought.
Swearing under his breath, he began edging the speedboat to port and after a few minutes saw the two piers that made the entrance to Mandraki harbour. He was now heading south-east and for a moment he slipped the engine into neutral so that he could orientate himself.
As he peered intently into the dark he could just discern the stone sea wall that jutted out into Emborikos harbour. He engaged the engine at minimum revs and slowly the mouth of the harbour began to open up.
When he calculated he was on the correct course he swung the boat around until its bow was pointing straight into the harbour. The compass was now indicating due south.
He glanced at his watch and was alarmed to see that he only had ninety seconds left before the launch was due to explode.
He made sure the speedboat was on course, locked the wheel, wriggled stomach downwards on to the flutterboard behind him, and grasped the throttle extension. By pulling the wire out to its fullest extent and winding it round a cleat, he would jam the engine at three-quarters throttle, which would give it the required speed of thirty knots.
Lying flat, Tiller thought he could just make out the outline of the outboard destroyer against the light-coloured buildings around the quay. He looked around him and saw that he was now just inshore of the right-hand pier of Mandraki harbour. There was no movement from on shore, no light of any kind. The only sound was the faint barking of a dog and the mutter of the speedboat’s engine.
