“How will the Germans get fuel for their land based planes?”
“By sea. They might fly some in, but in the main, it will have to be brought by ship. We think they may be using their new aircraft carrier as an aviation fuel ferry to the islands, a rather clever idea. The German Navy has never had to think and act this way, realizing the importance of logistics in projecting naval power at sea. For them it was all about the U-Boats, where they fight that battle on a grand strategic scale. But now, and for the first time since their Norway operation, they must use their navy to sustain troops overseas. It was their inability to do this that eventually allowed us to face them down in Syria. Now they must succeed here, or they will lose these islands, and we will spare no effort in defeating them.”
“At the same time,” said Admiral Fraser, “we shall have to make every effort to hold on to Tenerife and La Palma. Those islands have the last of the good ports and airfields. They are birds in the hand, and if we lose them, then it will take the planning and execution of a major amphibious operation to ever get them back.”
“Right,” said Tovey. “They will also be instrumental as forward bases for plans being laid for Operation Gymnast. Soon we’ll have much more support from the Yanks, and that will make a good deal of difference. French North Africa will become a major new front in this war and, in that campaign, we also have the issue of Gibraltar to settle with the Spanish.”
“I don’t see how we can do all this now,” said Pound. “Mister Churchill has been shuffling off divisions to Burma, and the Australians are pulling their best troops out of the Middle East.”
“We certainly can’t contemplate such an offensive for some time,” said Tovey. “But the planning is still going forward, and the Navy figures prominently in every aspect. We can’t take the Rock from the sea. The only way to do it is from the landward side. Therefore, Spain will have to be dealt with first, and that is a major offensive that will most likely come through Portugal.”
“I’ve had a look at those plans to date,” said Fraser. “That operation is to be timed with another landing at Casablanca. It all depends on the Americans. Without them, all we could do is hold our own in Egypt.”
“Well,” said Pound, “the homeland will have to get serious about building up battle ready divisions soon, but that is a matter for the army. For our part, we’ll get all the transport shipping we need from the Yanks, and more destroyers. But we’ll have to get our own fleet back as a solid fighting force as soon as possible.”
“I’ve checked the yards for progress after Fuerteventura,” said Tovey. HMS Invincible has been given the highest priority, and she’ll be ready in March. Then we’ll have Anson in May, Howe in June, but those are the last capital ships we can count on for the foreseeable future. The Lion class is still in the brewing vats, and will be for some time. The Knight Class cruisers may help fill in for the loss of Renown and Repulse. Let’s get more of those ships to sea as quickly as we can.”
“The Round Table is forming,” said Pound. “Sir Gawain and Percival are already fitting out, and after them come Pelleas and Baudwin. I note that Sir Lancelot has already tangled with those German raiders, but with mixed results.”
“Teething troubles,” said Tovey. “That was a real baptism by fire for those ships and crews. Yet I’m given to understand that the Admiralty diverted Captain Sanford at a critical moment, and sent him off to look for a German tanker instead of closing and engaging with Kaiser Wilhelm. That won’t do if we want to sink German ships.”
“We’ve sunk the Ermland,” said Pound. “Thanks to Trident. I was responsible for that order, and frankly, given the state of our battleships, we will have to be just a little more cautious as to how and when we can engage the enemy now. Kaiser Wilhelm had 15-inch guns. We’ve enough ships laid up as it stands, so I looked for easier prey.”
Tovey nodded, thinking. He had been criticized in some Admiralty circles for being too quick to get the navy into a fight. The losses sustained of late had been very heavy, but he still had Churchill’s backing, and intended to run Home Fleet as he pleased. “Getting Ermland was a good feather in our cap,” he said at last. “Getting the Goeben will do even better. Sanford is still in the chase, in spite of that hit he took amidships, and I intend to support him as best I can.”
“Strange that these raiders did little or nothing on that last sortie,” said Pound. “They go all the way into the South Atlantic to shell an airfield, then simply turn about and return home. We had convoys out there on the way to the Pacific, and the Germans never bothered any of them. It was as if they were trying to avoid engagement, particularly on this homeward leg.”
“Yes… That was odd,” said Tovey, his mind running to the strange photographs Turing had shown him, and the mystery they still represented. He would not mention any of that here. Admiral Pound would remain ‘in the dark’ concerning the real identity of Kirov, the Russians, Kinlan’s Brigade and all the rest. Photographs of ships at sea that had yet to be commissioned, or even laid down, would not be the sort of thing Pound would deal with easily. Nor would Tovey draw water from the bottom of that well for some time, though he made a mental note to see what Turing was up to as soon as possible.
“Sanford believes they had fuel problems. In that case, your orders to go after the Ermland may have been just the ticket, Admiral Pound. Good show. Logistics at sea, gentlemen. Jerry is late to the game, and let us all vow to keep him on the sidelines as long as we can. If they do get well established in the Canary Islands, and well supplied, then we’ve a whole new bowl of stew to get through. German Stukas on those fields will force all convoys to Freetown and the Cape to divert by at least 350 miles, and lord help us if they get U-boat pens set up there. This is why we need to rethink what we’re doing at sea with another vital arm of our force projection—the carriers.”
“We’ve had to send three off to the Pacific with Somerville,” said Pound, “ but that still leaves us three with Home Fleet, and three more at Alexandria.”
“The more the merrier,” said Tovey, but it’s not the ships I’m thinking of now, but the planes they carry. “Look what the Japanese accomplished at Pearl Harbor. Why, they’ve practically re-written the textbook on how to equip and utilize their carriers at sea. In the Pacific, every operation they undertake is centered on their carriers. Their naval air arm is simply superb, and on that score, the F.A.A. could not hope to match them. Now, we have adequate fighters. The Martlet and Seafires are coming along nicely, and giving us good capability for fleet defense. The Albacore is there as a torpedo bomber, but gentlemen, we need a better dive bomber. The Fulmar simply won’t do, and without a decent aircraft in that role, we’re like a boxer with one arm tied behind his back.”
“The Buccaneer is coming along nicely,” said Pound. “It will be a dual purpose aircraft, taking either torpedoes or bombs, just like the new model the Americans are working on, the Avenger.”
“We might want to have a look at that plane if we can talk them out of a few. Putting better strike aircraft on our carriers gives us some real offensive punch. The days of fluttering in with Swordfish are long over. Jerry is building aircraft carriers, and they’ve got the Stuka. We’ve all seen what they can do with that combination. God forbid they ever develop a good torpedo plane.” There was a moment of silence at that, and the Admirals took Tovey’s words to heart.
“I’ll put in a word to Admiral King concerning those Avengers,” said Pound. “Frankly, our projection of power at sea has always been built around the battleship, but you may be on to something here, Admiral Tovey. HMS Glorious has done well with those old Stringbags, and now she has Martlets and the Albacore.”
“It wasn’t the planes,” said Tovey, “it was the man that sent them out to do the job. We need more like this Captain Wells.”
“Yes,” said Pound, “he certainly put Bretagne and Provence under the sea, but we paid a high price for them—France…”
That statement fell like a hot
coal in cold water, and there was a silence about the conference table, until Tovey lifted his chin and responded. “I might add that he sunk those ships on orders from the Admiralty, and against the wishes of his senior Commanding Officer on the scene, Admiral Somerville.”
“I’ll not dispute that,” said Pound, “but we must admit that was one situation we might have handled differently. Had it not been for Churchill’s bullying, things might have gone otherwise.”
“It isn’t what we might have done that matters now,” said Tovey, “but what we might yet do. I daresay Hitler is probably wishing he hadn’t crossed the Soviet border as he did. And there will be time enough for all of us to sit with our regrets in a cold dark closet before this war is over.”
“But we’ll muddle through,” said Fraser.
“Aye,” said Tovey. “That we will.”
Chapter 8
It was one of the most difficult decisions Churchill would make in the entire war, and he stared at the letter he had just received from Wavell with an almost unbelieving expression on his face. The prospect being put to him now by his Theater Commander seemed preposterous, and yet, as he read on, the cold military logic in Wavell’s arguments could not be denied. Now he sat with his newly appointed Chief of the Imperial General Staff, General Alan Brooke, relieved to have him at hand now instead of Field Marshal John Dill, a man Churchill never fully appreciated, and one he quietly maneuvered out of the chair he now gave Brooke.
Given the central role he would play in planning the war, Churchill had found it necessary to take Brooke aside and confide the one great ‘truth’ to him that had shaken the history to its very foundation. Brooke was absolutely amazed, as any man might be upon hearing such a story, but when Churchill handed him a photograph taken in Siwa of Kinlan’s battalion of heavy Challenger IIs, the General had removed his eye glasses, and leaned in very close.
The shock of knowing he was looking at men and machines from another time, Britain’s far flung future, was almost too much to take. Churchill confided he felt the same way, until the reality of what he was looking at finally banished all the arguments his mind put forth as to his own insanity. With those men, those machines, the Allies could win the war.
The Heavy Brigade was now something Churchill treasured beyond the worth of all the Crown Jewels and all the gold in the nation’s treasury. He had in that single brigade, the means of decisive victory at any time and place of his choosing. Beyond that, Kinlan knew the outcome of the war, even as Fedorov had. He was a road map to the victory Churchill was laboring to bring about, yet was isolated there in the Middle East, far from the War Cabinet, and all the decisions that would have to be made there.
At one point Churchill thought he would summon the man to London, and keep him at his side to navigate the stormy waters ahead, but the young Russian Captain Fedorov had convinced him of the danger inherent in the knowledge of future days.
“Knowing what once happened will not necessarily bend the course of this war to follow the same path,” he had told Churchill. “In fact, simply knowing the outcome of any battle could become a fatal poison in the brew. It removes the uncertainty from your thinking, and could introduce a cavalier attitude to the decision making process that might be fatal. For it was only in the dark of the night, with enemies on every side, beset with fear and that awful uncertainty, that you could truly weigh the risks, and the consequences of the choices you had to make. I could hand you a book that would lay out every battle, every misstep and lost opportunity, every advantage before you, but that would take the passion of life out of you, and without that, you would never be the same man again. Understand?”
“I suppose I do,” Churchill had said. “It would be like knowing the outcome of every flirtatious proposal you might make to a lady, and whether you might win through to capture her heart, among other things. Would a man risk his pride and honor to woo a woman he knew he could have at his whim? I think not. There would be nothing at stake, and he could therefore neither feel the elation of his conquest, nor the pain of his loss should he fail. Yes, Mister Fedorov, I do understand what you are saying.”
So it was that Fedorov remained very careful and cautious with the information he had on the outcome of the war, and he had also privately urged Kinlan to be equally reticent. “These men may know they can win this war, but not how, not by chapter and verse. They must write this history themselves now, with the sweat of their brow, and the blood of the men they send to do battle. Besides—from everything I have seen, this entire history seems to be a house of cards. Change one thing and the whole of it could come tumbling down. We have no way of knowing which events could cause such a catastrophe. We can speculate and guess, but never know to a certainty. Tell them everything, and the weight of all that knowledge could be too difficult for them to bear.”
The weight had seemed that way to Churchill, and he eventually decided he had to bring someone ‘inside’ on the truth of the matter, someone with dignity, authority, and the broad respect of his peers—someone like Sir Alan Brooke. He needed a foil to his own mind on the war, and Brooke would become that for him, though he would once write of Churchill: “A complete amateur of strategy, he swamps himself in detail he should never look at, and as a result fails to ever see a strategic problem in its true perspective.”
The two men would have a very tempestuous relationship in the years ahead, but it was one where something would arise from their interaction to define a new truth. Like yin and yang, they would both oppose and define one another at the same time, and something sublime would result.
“Well General,” said Churchill, “We have a rather delicate situation here. Wavell wants Montgomery back for his big operation in North Africa, but the man has only barely warmed the chair in the Pacific. ”
A veteran of the First War, Brooke specialized in the hammering work of the heavy guns in that nightmare, developing a tactic that came to be known as “the creeping barrage.” His thunder was heard at the Somme, and at Vimy Ridge, and after that war he moved on to the Imperial Defense College. There he met many of the men who were now running the war, including General Montgomery, who had 3rd Division in Brooke’s II Corps in France. Both men saw eye to eye. In fact, it had been Brooke who quietly put forward Montgomery’s name when the decision was made to relieve Percival.
“I recommended him wholeheartedly,” said Brooke, “but it will seem a bit of a snub to Percival to have Monty say ‘there, I’ve gone and fixed your little mess, and now I’m off to my desert again.’ The problem is, Monty is just enough of an old goat to say something along those lines. He can be somewhat blunt at times.”
“That is the least of it,” said Churchill, handing Brooke Wavell’s latest communication. “After all this shuffle and bother, Wavell wants to pull out of Singapore! He’s of a mind that, in spite of every effort made to hold it, the place is now indefensible with the Japanese landing on Sumatra. Outrageous!”
Brooke studied the letter for some time, with Churchill pacing about the close confines of the War Cabinet Map Room beneath the Treasury building near Whitehall. Here was a perfect case of the danger in knowing too much. Churchill had learned the truth from Fedorov as to the actual force disparity between the Japanese troops and those under Percival. He had then dispatched his close advisor Brendon Bracken to try and convince Percival to stand fast, but he remained a weak stone in the wall there. Montgomery had been the solution, but now, in spite of that intervention, events were already conspiring to undermine that whole effort. It seemed Singapore was a rock destined to sink, and the question now was what would it take down with it when it fell?
“I know on the face of things that your reaction would seem fully justified,” Brooke said at last. “Quite frankly, I must tell you I personally never believed there was much hope of saving Singapore. Montgomery did a bang up job, stopped the Japanese right in their tracks, but now that island is no more than a solid rock in the stream.”
“Exactly,” sai
d Churchill. “The Rock of the East. Do you realize the political and moral capital we’ve put in the treasury as a result of this one small victory? Here we finally find a General who can win in a good fight, and now Wavell loses his nerve and wants to simply give it all back to the enemy! And for what? Java? We couldn’t hold Gibraltar, and losing it we virtually lost the Mediterranean, at least in the public’s eye, even if Admiral Cunningham still holds sway in the east. To lose Singapore will mean we’ve lost the Pacific, and with the war there only months old.”
“It may mean that to the man on the street,” said Brooke, “but to those of us lurking in the War Cabinet, we must take a wider and longer view.” Brooke quietly laid Wavell’s letter on the table. “Yes, I certainly never expected to see things fall apart as they have,” he said. “I was of a mind to send the British 18th Division to Rangoon instead of Singapore, but Monty made good use of it, and was bull headed enough to stop the Japanese. Yet now they have gone right around him with these landings in Sumatra. They’ve gone after the airfields he was counting on for air cover over the island. Without them, we’ll be forced back to Batavia, and with the Japanese already on Borneo, Singapore will be sitting there like a pearl in a Japanese clam. It will be completely isolated. Mister Prime Minister, the fact of the matter is this…. For the moment we hold that island on the strength of our ground troops there, and the man who led that defense. Yet to hold it further, we will need control of the air and sea around it.”
“You will recall my proposal to secure a lodgment in northern Sumatra?” Churchill wagged a finger.
“Yes, I do recall it, but there was simply no suitable port. Banda Aceh was the only prospect that could be supported from Colombo. Pedang on the west coast was just too small.”
“Yet we might have made a good fight there on Sumatra.”
“With what sir? The Australians have just recalled their entire first Corps from North Africa, and they certainly would not hear anything about sending them to Sumatra. Would you have us divert the 70th Division from Burma to Sumatra? That would be madness. It was all we could do to get the 18th Division to Singapore, but I think all we have done is throw good money after bad. Percival lost his battle before we gave Montgomery a chance to win it for him. He lost it on the Malayan Peninsula. The fate of Singapore always rested on the assumption that we could hold Malaya for at least six months. His Operation Matador decided everything when it squandered all his strength in piecemeal defensive battles followed by chaotic retreat. By the time those troops got to Singapore, they were beaten three times and ready for another good licking. It was a miracle that Monty pulled things together, but remember, he did that with fresh British troops, including the New Zealand Brigade Wavell sent him.”
Turning Point (Kirov Series Book 22) Page 7
