V4 Vengeance

by Nigel Seed

  Ivan rested his forearms on one of the completed missiles. “A pretty good four days’ work there, boss” said Ivan. “Do we get to see the fireworks when these go off?”

  “Do you know, I have never asked? Do we want to sail on these antiques when they go round to the Black Sea? I don’t even know if they have enough people to crew two boats yet.”

  Ivan and Geordie agreed they did want to go. If nothing else it would make a great story for the pub when they got home. Jim nodded.

  “OK then, I will speak to Romanov next time we see him.”

  “Speak to me about what, Major?” said Romanov, as he came through the door.

  Jim told him and Romanov laughed again.

  “Major, these are old boats and it’s a long way to their new home. I will need as much of your expertise and skill as possible to make sure we get there, so of course I need you along on the journey.”

  The next few days were spent in refueling the boats. Restocking them with food and water. Installing modern GPS navigation systems and making final checks of everything that might be needed to ensure a safe journey. Once that was done the V1 flying bombs were wheeled out along the docks and with Geordie operating the gantry crane very carefully; they were loaded through the forward deck hatch and lowered down on the hydraulic lifts and into the tracks inside the large missile compartments of the two boats selected to go. Once firmly settled in the steel tracks they had wedges placed under the trolley wheels and broad webbing straps over each missile unit to ensure that even if the seas were unkind they would not shift and damage themselves.

  All that remained was to fill the dry docks and sail them out. To do that they would need trained submarine crews. The submarine men they had already would only be enough to man the two engine rooms. With all the preparation that had gone into this exercise there must be some crews coming or the whole thing would have been a waste of time.

  Romanov gave the order to fill the two docks and with Geordie on one control and Ivan on the other, the water valves were opened as slowly as possible. Even so the water rushed in under considerable pressure and filled the docks remarkably quickly. In less than an hour the U-Boats were starting to float for the first time in over seventy years. Men stood around the dock edge and all through the boats looking for leaks and holding their breath. It became clear that the German U-Boat builders knew their business and the boats were watertight, at least when on the surface. The true test would come when they submerged to exit the base through the tunnel. Romanov seemed hardly able to contain his excitement. He gave the order to secure all the watertight doors and the deck hatches and then to retire to the mess area for a celebration dinner. He immediately had the attention of all the tired and dirty men.

  “And tomorrow,” he announced, “the crews who will sail them for us will arrive. After a they have a few days of orientating themselves we will be on our way into history.”

  The three British engineers thought that was a little over the top but, as Romanov had said, he was a showman.

  The celebration dinner was subdued. The men were too tired to do more than eat and fall into their beds. Even the lovely Tatiana did not raise much more than the occasional smile.

  There was no early call the next morning and most slept late, but the three British engineers were up early as usual. Force of habit from years of military life got them out of bed, shaved and dressed before anybody else was stirring. They stood in the window of the old officers’ mess and looked down on the base. The first two submarines sat lifeless on their reflections in the still water of the dry docks in the huge silent base. Like all military submarines they exuded an air of menace with their black hulls and functional markings on the conning towers. It was hard to believe that these were relics of a long finished war and would soon be museum exhibits in a holiday resort on the Black Sea. There was a satisfaction in what they had achieved by finding the base and bringing these two boats back to life.

  The third boat sat forlorn in the empty dry dock beyond and in the fourth dock the jumbled remains of the slaughtered Russian prisoners of war still lay with those of their Kriegsmarine captors.

  Ivan looked across the rim of his coffee mug at Jim, “OK, Boss. What’s bugging you?”

  “How do you know anything is?”

  “I’ve worked for you for a long time and I know that look. The last time I saw it was on the banks of the Weser just before that bloody Pontoon bridge failed and caused all that damage.”

  “You’ve got me. We are just about to cross a line here. Up to this point we haven’t done anything wildly illegal. But once we take those boats out of here that is going to be theft of German government property at the very least.”

  “Well you could be right there, but the present German government people are just normal politicians. The bastards who had this base and those boats built were something special. I don’t have any problem taking their stuff.”

  “You might be right. I’ll think about it.”

  As they turned back to the window and stood contemplating their achievement, the roof hatch, high above, opened to a dark sky. Ropes dropped down and within seconds they saw men sliding down to the deck of the center U-Boat. They counted thirty of them as they waited for their personal belongings to be lowered. They did not seem to have brought much with them as each man walked across the gangplank with only a holdall each as they assembled on the dock. They were dressed in black coveralls with green badges on the left shoulder. There was no gawking despite being inside a massive secret base. Who could resist a look round something as amazing as this?

  The men in black coveralls were split into two equal crews and one headed to V4-1 waiting patiently in the now filled dock. They were led across by one of Romanov’s bodyguards. There was a slight trembling in the water as they tramped across the gangplank and disappeared down into the boat. The remaining crew returned across the walkway behind them, climbed the conning tower external ladder and entered V4-2. The three engineers decided to wander across and say hello. Perhaps this group would be more forthcoming than the rest of the people Romanov had brought in so far.

  They got as far as the first gangplank and were met by one of the Russian bodyguards who blocked their way. He didn’t speak English, but placing himself on the walkway and staring at them got the message across. The second gangplank could be seen from where they were standing and it too was equipped with a large unsmiling Russian. There was no point in arguing so they took themselves back to the mess area for some of Andrei’s excellent coffee and a breakfast of bread rolls with cheese and ham.

  “Well boss,” said Ivan as Andrei poured a second mug of steaming coffee and Tatiana cleared away the plates, “it looks like the sailing crews have arrived. We must be getting ready to move out soon.”

  “Can’t be too soon,” said Geordie with a small smile, “I think Tatiana is feeling the pressure of being underground.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Well I’ve been watching her and with two perfect specimens of masculine beauty sitting right here she still keeps smiling at the boss and those early morning assignations for a quiet coffee are getting more frequent.”

  Jim felt himself flush a little as he changed the subject. “Very funny, you two. I wonder how we find out who our new crewmates are?”

  “Arabs!” said Andrei. “Only Romanov would hire Arabs to sail these ships.”

  “I wonder where he got Arabs with submarine training?” said Geordie.

  “Not difficult” Jim said. “A number of the Middle Eastern nations have small submarines for use in protecting their oil rigs in the Gulf. As far as I recall they are all diesel electric boats so a U-Boat should be quite familiar to them. I guess they are going through familiarization drills now to get ready for sea.”

  As they were finishing, Smith appeared. He had been absent for some days now that they came to think about it. “Hello Mr. Smith and where have you been hiding?” said Jim.

  “Hello Majo
r, gentlemen, not hiding I have been doing some different work for Mr. Romanov, making further arrangements for other parts of this expedition. We seem to be ready for the adventure to begin. Mr. Romanov would like to hold a briefing this afternoon to make sure everything is prepared.”

  “Can I have a word with you in private, Mr. Smith?”

  “Of course, Major.”

  They walked out onto the dock and Jim leaned against one of the large crates in the storage area. “I’m getting concerned about the legality of taking these boats out of here. It smells like theft of German government property. You said that you and some lawyers were going to fix that … have you?”

  “Not your problem, Major. You just do your job and we will worry about the legality.”

  “It is my problem if my men and I end up in a German prison for our trouble.”

  “Oh dear. I had hoped to avoid having to say this to you, but Mr. Romanov anticipated your attack of morals.”

  “Saying what?”

  “Our observers report that you seem very fond of your nephew. Joking with him as you two ran through the fens. Mr. Romanov feels you would be very sad if the boy was to be found face down in one of the waterways.”

  “You cannot be serious. You’re threatening me?”

  Smith looked down at his feet then up at the angry Englishman. “Did you think those bodyguards were just for show? I think you should consider your position very carefully and don’t tell your men. We don’t want any trouble from them, do we?”

  Jim seriously considered grabbing Smith and pounding his smug face to a bloody pulp. But he had to consider David and he had no way to warn him. He swallowed his anger and turned back toward the mess area.

  “Just call us when you want us,” said Jim, “it seems we aren’t going anywhere. Tell me something though, how come Romanov has hired Arab crews for his boats? I would have thought he would want Russians to sail them into Odessa as part of his publicity stunt?”

  Smith paused and looked at Jim. “I’m sure he has a very good reason for the people he has chosen. If he feels you need to know he will tell you, but maybe you should just do your part?”

  Chapter 16

  At the briefing Romanov stood at the front of the mess hall with a large map behind him and looking very pleased with himself. Jim looked around the room while people were taking their places. The German submarine engineers were there, as were the two chemists. The bodyguards stood at the back of the room, unsmiling as usual. It must be difficult to be so stone faced all the time, he thought. Smith entered leading four of the black suited Arab sailors. He guessed these must be the skippers and first officers. No reason to bring in the whole of the boat’s crew. Romanov cleared his throat and the low murmuring stopped. Everyone turned to their employer.

  “Gentlemen,” he said, “the time has almost come for our voyage to begin. We will warp the boats out into the maneuvering dock one at a time as soon as the crews are ready and loading is complete. Once the first boat is out we will move the second. The first boat will wait outside the base and then we will head out into the Baltic together. It will be dark when the first boat leaves and we will show no lights.”

  He went on to describe the route they would take. Having entered the Baltic they would head north into Danish waters and pass through the Storebælt channel. Coming out of that they would enter the Kattegat and then turn west into the Skagerrak. Sailing through there would bring them to the North Sea.

  “There is to be no delay, once we are under way,” Romanov said. “We must be into the North Sea before dawn. We have to be away from German and Danish waters before we run any risk of being seen.”

  To the south of England is the English Channel, one of the busiest, most congested and closely controlled shipping lanes in the world. They would avoid this by sailing around the north of Scotland and out into the Atlantic. Once they were well to the west of Ireland they would turn south, keeping well away from the coasts, and head for the Straits of Gibraltar.

  “Now,” he said, “let me introduce our two Captains for this adventure. Captain Ibrahim, late of the navy of Saudi Arabia and Captain Ahmad late of the Egyptian navy. Captain Ibrahim will command V4-1 and Captain Ahmad will take V4-2. If you check the list on the wall at the back of the room you will find which boat you have been allocated to serve on.”

  The two captains had not stood up, but had sat stony faced when introduced. They had not even acknowledged their names. No doubt it would become clear which was which when they got aboard.

  Romanov was about to finish when he said, “Oh Major. This afternoon I would like you and your men to ensure the boat’s crews are familiar with the maneuvering winches ready for lining the boats up with the tunnel. You will not be able to handle them as you three will be on the first boat with me.”

  At least they would be kept together as a team, which was comforting, Jim thought. He nodded and walked toward the two Captains to make arrangements for instructing their crews. They saw him coming and pointedly turned and walked out of the room.

  The two first officers remained. “You are the Major?” one of them said.

  “I am and I was going to speak to your skippers about training your men.”

  “Ah yes. They are both busy so have left us to make the arrangements. Can you start now?”

  Jim showed no sign of the annoyance he felt. He had bottled up his feelings before when senior officers had been as rude as this. Now he was a civilian he had not expected that to continue. This was becoming a little too pointed. He was about to react when he felt Ivan’s hand on his arm. He turned toward the Welshman.

  “Let it go, boss. We’ll see about this crap later.”

  Jim nodded and swallowing his pride turned back to the two first officers.

  “Very well gentlemen, can you have your handling crews on the dockside in ten minutes and please ensure they have someone with them who speaks English. I am afraid I am no linguist.”

  The crewmen in their black coveralls proved to be intelligent and quick learners. Despite being surly, they asked all the right questions and were very soon handling the winches competently. As the lessons on the handling equipment finished Jim and his two men began to return to the mess area for lunch. They stopped and looked across the base. By both of the two submarines that were scheduled to leave, the Arab crews were pushing trolley mounted torpedoes along the dockside. They found a large crate to sit on and watched as heavy webbing slings were put around the underwater missiles and the crane was started and used to lift them through the submarine deck hatches.

  “They must have been stored in amongst those piles of crates near the headquarters, boss,” said Ivan. “This museum is going to be pretty authentic if those are live.”

  Jim nodded slowly. “I had been wondering what the German engineers had been doing for the last couple of days. My guess is they have been working on those beasties and they are fully ready to go. But what the hell are they going to do with live torpedoes? They can’t be used for this firework show that Romanov wants. Something doesn’t feel right about all this.”

  After lunch they waited until the loading of the last torpedoes had been completed and then Geordie and Ivan returned to the dry dock gate controls. On a signal from Jim they swung the winch handles that ground the gates slowly open. The submarines were now fully in touch with the waters of the open ocean. All that prevented them from sailing away was the hillside around them and the tunnel they had to maneuver through.

  Fuel lines were slung across from the docksides and the diesel tanks were topped up on the two U-Boats from the large fuel bunkers within the base. Batteries had already been checked and recharged by the German specialists and any found to be suspect had been replaced from the stores on the dockside.

  The next evening the crews and specialist teams boarded their allocated boats. The three ex-Royal Engineers were the last to board V4-1. As they did so the gangplank was swung back and the mooring lines were loosened. The twin diesel engi
nes started with a throaty roar that echoed around the base. The cables were passed across from the winch and secured to the rings in the foredeck and gently, ever so gently, the boat was pulled forward into the maneuvering dock. As she moved, the cables from the winches that controlled the aft end of the boat were passed across and secured to the afterdeck rings. Once clear of the dry dock that she had sat in for the last seventy years the four winches pulled until the boat was precisely aligned with the exit tunnel. Captain Ibrahim checked that all periscopes and antennae were fully stowed, diving planes in the fully retracted position, and batteries on line ready to take the boat out of the base. Once satisfied he ordered all the crew and passengers to go below before securing the deck hatches.

  Jim looked across at the other boat in time to see Tatiana’s long dark hair disappearing down into the hull of the submarine. He turned and climbed down through the hatch and descended the ladder.

  All watertight doors were shut and the diesel engines were shut down. The cables to the deck rings were released by crewmen who were the last to enter the ship and close the final deck hatch. The order was given and the boat slowly submerged in a welter of swirling water as the roaring air vented from the ballast tanks.

  The three Englishmen were standing by their allocated bunks in the old Chiefs’ Mess aft of the control room, fingers crossed and staring around looking for leaks. Their large holdalls were stowed in the two spare top bunks. They listened as the submarine settled gently onto the concrete floor of the dock. They heard and felt the propellers start to spin as the electric motors turned the drive shafts.