iron pirate

by Unknown Author

  The lieutenant saw his expression and said dully, 'It's been like this for weeks.' He dropped his eyes under Hechler's blue-grey stare. 'I - I'm sorry, sir.'

  Another small cameo came and went as the car picked its way
  A stretcher was being carried from a bombed house, the front of which had tumbled out on to the street. Hechler caught a glimpse of some torn wallpaper and a chair hanging from the upper floor by one leg. An old man was being led to safety by a nurse, but it was obvious even at a distance that he wanted to remain with the blanket-covered corpse on the stretcher.

  Hechler said, 'Night raids?'

  The lieutenant shrugged. 'The Yanks by day, the Tommies by night.'

  Hechler wanted to ask about Kiel's air defences but said nothing. I uni a stranger here.

  The lieutenant gave a sigh and wound down a window as some armed sentries blocked the road. The new headquarters was like a slab of solid concrete, not much different from the outside to one of the great U-boat pens, he thought.

  But once inside, with the huge steel doors shut behind them, it was more like a ship than anything else. Steel supports, shining lifts which vanished into the ground like ammunition hoists, and even the officers and seamen who bustled about with briefcases and signal folders looked different from the embattled people he had just seen on the streets outside.

  The lieutenant guided him into a lift and they stood in silence as it purred down two or maybe three levels. More doors and brightly lit passageways where the air was as cool and as fresh as a country lane.

  Hechler had the impression that the lieutenant was taking him on a longer route than necessary in spite of his haste, perhaps to show him the display of businesslike efficiency. Hechler had not been in the bunker before and he looked into each room and office as they hurried past. Teleprinters, clattering typewriters, and endless banks of switchboards and flashing lights. There were several soldiers about too, and in one map-covered room Hechler saw that the Luftwaffe was also represented.

  He felt his confidence returning, the dismal pictures he had seen on the street put momentarily aside. It was just that when you were involved in the fighting you never thought of those at home who had to stand and accept whatever was hurled at them. He thought of his parents and was glad they lived well away from the city.

  The lieutenant pressed a button and another steel door slid to one side.

  Several uniformed women were busy typing, while an officer was speaking intently on a telephone.

  All of them jumped to their feet as Hechler appeared in the bright electric glare, and stared at him as if he was from another planet.

  The lieutenant was relieved. 'The Admiral is waiting, sir.'

  Two more doors, and each new room became less warlike. There were rugs, and pleasant lamp-shades, and the desks were of polished wood and not metal.

  Leitner was sitting in a comfortable chair, a glass in one hand, his uniform jacket unbuttoned. He looked fresh and untroubled, as if he had just had a swim or a shower.

  'Right on time, Dieter.' He gestured to another officer, a captain who was vaguely familiar.

  Leitner said, 'Perhaps you know Klaus Rau? He commands Liibeck.'

  They shook hands, and Hechler recalled the other captain who had once commanded a destroyer during the attack on Narvik.

  He was a stocky, dark-jowled man with deepset eyes which seemed very steady and unblinking. Hechler sat down and pictured the cruiser which lay near to his own ship. Liibeck had been in the thick of it from the outbreak of war. The Low Countries, France and then in the Baltic against the Russians, she too had a charmed life despite being heavily damaged by gunfire and bombs alike on several occasions. Liibeck was an old ship, built in the early thirties and about half the size of Prinz Luitpold.

  Leitner put down his glass and looked at them blandly.

  'We shall be working together, gentlemen, just as soon as I hoist my flag. It will be a small but crack squadron, and the enemy will have cause to remember us.'

  Rau glanced at Hechler. My ship has already given them reason enough.'

  Hechler kept his face impassive. There it was again. Like Theil. He wondered briefly if it was coincidence or an accident that Rau had arrived here ahead of him. He had not been aboard the old Junkers. He smiled inwardly. It was unlikely that Leitner would ever permit a coincidence.

  The rear-admiral added, 'You will receive your final orders when you return to your commands. This is a maximum security operation.' He gave a quick grin, like an impish schoolboy. 'If it leaks out, I shall know where to come looking, eh?'

  A telephone buzzed, and the flag-lieutenant appeared as if by magic through another door and snatched it up before his superior had time to frown.

  Hechler could not hear what he said, but saw some dust float down from the ceiling; he would not have seen it but for the lights.

  Leitner listened to his aide and said, Air raid. They are going for the harbour again.' He gestured for his glass to be refilled. 'Our fighters have brought down four already.'

  Hechler looked at the ceiling. Was that all it meant down here? A tiny trickle of dust, and not even a shiver of vibration. He thought of the drunken colonel on the plane, his despair. How could a man like that lead his troops with conviction? He had been damaged as much as any man who loses a limb or his sight in battle. It was dangerous to cling to the past merely because he imagined he had no future.

  Leitner glanced at his watch. 'We must see the head of Operations.'

  Raustoodup. 'Until tomorrow then, sir.'He glanced at Hechler. A pleasure meeting you again.'

  Hechler wratched the door close. A man without warmth.

  Leitner smiled. 'He is jealous of you. Nothing like envy to keep men on their toes.'

  He walked to the other door. 'Come with me, Dieter. The time for cat-and-mouse with men like Rau can keep.'

  Admiral Manfred von Hanke was an impressive figure by any standards. He was standing straight-backed in the centre of a well-lit map-room, his heavy-lidded eyes on the door as Leitner and Hechler were ushered in by another aide.

  Hechler knew a lot about the admiral, although he had not found many people who had actually met him.

  Von Hanke had been a captain in the Great War with a distinguished career ahead of him. He had been in the United States attached to the German Embassy where he had been engaged for several years in organising a powerful intelligence and espionage ring. In the final months of the war when America had abandoned her umbrella of neutrality, he had found himself arrested as a spy. Even that, and the possibility of summary execution, had not broken him, and despite his aristocratic family background, something frowned on in Hitler's New Order, he had survived and prospered. Today he was second only to Donitz, while his grasp of strategy and naval operations took second place to no one.

  He had iron-grey cropped hair, and because he had just com: from an investiture was wearing his frock-coat uniform and winged collar. He could still be one of the Kaiser's old guard, Hechler thought.

  Leitner began brightly, 'This is our man, sir -

  Von Hanke raised one hand in a tired gesture and Leitner fell instantly silent.

  Von Hanke said, 'Be seated. This will not take too long, but of course if you have any questions?' He gave a dry smile. 'In that case -'

  He pressed a button on his deck and several long wall panels slid away to reveal giant map.’ of each of the main battle areas.

  Hechler stared at one of the Baltic and the Gulf of Finland where his ship had been mostly employed. It all seemed so long ago instead of weeks.

  His eyes fastened on some red flags where one of von Hanke's staff had marked the various army units.

  Von Hanke watched him steadily, his hooded eyes without expression. 'You have seen something, Captain?'

  Hechler hesitated. 'The Twenty-First Division, sir. It is still shown south-west of Riga.'

  'Well?' Not a flicker of emotion although Hechler could sense Le
itner's irritation behind his back.

  It no longer exists. It was decimated weeks ago.' The admiral's silence was like an unspoken doubt and he added, 'I was there, sir.'

  Leitner said, 'I expect it has been regrouped

  The admiral clasped his hands behind him.

  'I am glad you show interest as well as intelligence, Captain.'

  Von Hanke gestured to the adjoining map which showed Norway and the convoy routes from Iceland to North Cape. It was pockmarked with pointers and flags, and Hechler felt a tightness in his throat when he saw his own ship s name on a metal pennant placed on Bod0. Pictures leapt through his mind. Theil's anxiety, the straddled destroyer heeling over in a welter of fire ,ind steam. Men dying.

  The straight-backed admiral said in his slow, thick tones, The Allies are throwing everything they have into France. Even now there are advance units within miles of Paris, others breaking out Inwards the Belgian frontier. Our forces will blunt their advances of course, and already the army's pincer movements have taken many prisoners and valuable supplies. But the advance goes on.'

  Hechler glanced at the flags nearest to the Belgian frontier. It was said that the new rocket-launching sites were in the Low Countries. The Allies would use every means to reach them before they could do their maximum damage in England.

  Von Hanke continued calmly, 'Intelligence reports are excellent. The British intend to do something they have not attempted before and have two convoys in Northern waters at the same time. A loaded convoy routed for the Russians in Murmansk, and an empty but nonetheless valuable one on the reverse route to Iceland. The Normandy campaign has made the Royal Navy very short of escorts, that is their only reason.'

  Hechler could see that too in his mind. The endless daylight,

  I he convoys drawing further and further north towards Bear Island to avoid air and U-boat attack. It had always been a murderous battleground for both sides.

  He examined his feelings. It was what he might have expected. An attack on two convoys when Allied warships were deployed in strength in the English Channel and Biscay. If they destroyed one or both of the convoys it might give a breathing space. Even as he considered it, he sensed a nagging doubt. Just to look at those probing red arrows, the British and American flags, made such an operation little more than a delay to the inevitable.

  Much would depend on the army's counter-attacks in France. They had to hold the line no matter what if they hoped to gain lime to break the enemy's determination with an increasing rocket bombardment.

  Von Hanke said softly, 'You look troubled, Captain.'

  Hechler faced him. 1 think it can be done, sir. My ship -'

  'Your ship, Captain, is possibly the most powerful of her kind afloat, and she is one of half a dozen major units left in the fleet.' He glanced absently at the maps. 'Others are supporting our troops in the Baltic, as you will know better than most. Some are marooned in ports on the Biscay coast. And there are those which are damaged beyond repair by air attacks.' He turned again and fixed his eyes on Hechler. ‘Prinz Luitpold is the best we have. If she is not properly employed, she may end up like her less fortunate consorts.'

  Hechler glanced at Leitner. He looked bright-eyed; inspired would be a better description, he thought.

  At the right moment you will leave Bodo? and seek out one of the convoys as directed by OKM.' His eyes never left Hechler's. 'And then, Captain, you will take full advantage of the disruption caused and He walked towards him and then gripped his hands in his. 'You will take your ship into the Atlantic.'

  For an instant longer Hechler thought he had misheard or that the admiral was about to add something.

  The Atlantic. A ship like Prinz Luitpold could create hell on the sea-lanes until she was run to ground.

  Von Hanke said, 'You do not question it?' He nodded slowly. 'That is good. I would not like to give the ship another captain at this stage.'

  Leitner exclaimed, 'It is a perfect plan, Dieter!' He could not contain his excitement. A tiger at large, with all the chain of supplies to make it possible!'

  Von Hanke frowned. 'Later.' He looked at Hechler. 'Surprise will be total. It will show the world what we can do.' He gripped his hands again. 'You will do it for Germany!'

  A door opened and Hechler knew that the interview was at an end.

  It was so swift, so impossibly vast he could barely think of it as a feasible plan. At the same time it was like a release, perhaps what he had always been looking and hoping for.

  Von Hanke folded his arms. 'Nothing will be said beyond these walls. Only the Fuhrer knows, and he will let nothing stand in your way.'

  Hechler thought of the colonel on the plane, the frightened-looking people he had seen in the bombed streets.

  Perhaps this was a way. Maybe it was all they had.

  Outside the map-room Leitner said, 'Return to your ship. I will fly up in two days.' He shrugged. 'After that, who knows?'

  Hechler found the tired lieutenant waiting for him and the car was ready to take him to the airfield.

  He barely noticed the journey and was astonished that he could accept it so calmly.

  The Atlantic. The vast Western Ocean. The killing ground, where every ship would be an enemy.

  l.eitner's words stuck in his mind. A tiger at large.

  He touched the peak of his cap to a saluting sentry and walked out to the smoke-shrouded runway.

  The waiting was over.

  Chapter Five

  Rank Has its Privileges

  Dieter Hechler opened his eyes with a start and realised that his face was pressed on to his forearm. Two other facts stood out, that he had been writing a letter to his parents, but had been awakened by the clamour of alarm bells.

  He jumped to his feet, his mind still refusing to grasp what was happening. He was in his day cabin, his jacket hanging on a chair, an empty coffee cup nearby. Normally the sound of those alarm bells would have brought him to instant readiness and it was likely he would have been in his tiny sea-cabin, or dozing in the steel chair on the bridge.

  The telephone buzzed through the din of bells and running feet with the attendant slamming of watertight doors.

  It was Theil. 'Red Alert, sir. Air attack.'

  Hechler slammed down the handset and snatched his jacket and cap even as Pirk scampered past him to screw the steel deadlights over the scuttles.

  On deck the ship seemed deserted, and only abandoned brooms and paint brushes marked the sudden alarm.

  He climbed swiftly to the upper bridge, aware that the antiaircraft guns were already traversing towards the land, and men were putting on helmets and dragging belts of ammunition to the short-range weapons.

  It was still a bright afternoon with just a few jagged clouds towards the open sea.

  Hechler barely heard the quick reports from the officers around him but stared instead at the long stretches of camouflaged netting which hung between the masts and above the main armament. It was the same aboard the Liibeck. It did not hide a ship from an inquisitive aircraft, but it acted as a disguise and broke up a ship's outline.

  Theil took a pair of binoculars from a messenger and then handed them back with a terse, 'Clean the lenses, damn you!'

  Hechler looked across the starboard screen. The airfield was invisible from here, but there ought to be some fighters scrambled by now, he thought.

  He hated being at anchor. Like lying in a trap. The bait. The ship had been at short notice for steam since his return from Kiel, but not that short. It would take an hour to slip and work out to some sea-room.

  He turned his attention to the other cruiser. All her secondary armament was at full elevation, and in his mind's eye he saw Rau, watching the heavy cruiser and probably comparing the times it had taken for both ships to clear for action.

  Theil muttered irritably, Come on, get those planes airborne!'

  He must be thinking much the same. Too many warships had been caught in enclosed fjords and damaged beyond repair by daring hit-an
d-run raids.

  An inland battery had opened fire and every pair of glasses scanned the clouds as the shells left their familiar dirty brown stains in the sky.

  Theil exclaimed, 'I can't see a bloody thing!'

  The young one-striper, Konrad Jaeger, called suddenly, 'I see it! One aircraft, sir, at red four-five!'

  Hechler sensed Theil's annoyance but concentrated on the bearing until sunlight shone like a bright diamond on the plane's cockpit cover.

  Another voice hissed, 'Nowhere near the thing!'

  Hechler watched the shell-bursts gathering in an untidy cluster while some earlier ones broke up and drifted downwind.

  Hechler had to agree with the unknown sailor. The shooting was very poor and the tiny sliver of metal in the sky did not even alter course.

  It was not a bomber anyway, and seemed to be quite alone.

  Bodo was described as a safe anchorage and better protected than most. It was likely that enemy agents would know of Prinz Luitpold's presence here, just as her departure from Vejle would be known and plotted in London. However, there was no need to invite some reckless reconnaissance plane to confirm everything.

  Theil said between his teeth, 'Our Arado replacement is expected, sir,' He sounded anxious. 'I hope to hell that headquarters have ordered it to stand away.'

  Hechler looked over the screen and past the nearest gun-crews as they tried to track the aircraft, their anti-flash hoods making

  them look like members of some strange religious order.

  The aircraft derrick was already swung out, the tackle prepared to hoist the new Arado inboard as soon as it landed in the fjord.

  'Gunnery officer requests permission to use main armament, sir.'

  'Negative.' Hechler knew that Kroll would shoot at anything just to exercise his men. But it was a waste of ammunition and with as much hope of hitting the reconnaissance plane as a bow and arrow, in fact the solitary aircraft was already heading away, flitting between the clouds, the shell-bursts too far away to catch it.

  Theil said, 'Here they are! At last. Late as bloody usual!'

  Two fighters streaked from the land, the echo of their engines roaring around the fjord with a throaty vibration. The sun shone on their black crosses as they tilted over and then tore towards the sea.