Hechler was picturing the immediate chart in his mind. Soon the submarine would vanish. The ocean would be a desert again.
Warn the first Arado to prepare for launching.' He waited for the big navigator to pass the order. 'My guess is that an enemy ship,' he hesitated, 'or ships, are close by. I'd say one hundred miles maximum. That plane will be going to its superior officer with the haste of hell. No radio, in case we pick him up - he'll be depending on surprise.'
Gudegast murmured, 'You saw all this in a few seconds, sir. I admire that very much. Gunnery patrol would have had every weapon with that range banging away in one more moment!'
Hechler smiled. 'You used to carry timber as you have often told me. I have always done this, since I was a boy. It is my life.'
'Arado ready, sir.'
Hechler said, ‘See the pilot and give him a course. I want him to find the enemy and report back to me.'
Gudegast watched his profile. It would be a suicide mission. He was glad he did not have to make such decisions.
Hechler turned his attention to the other vessel. At best, the other ship would be in sight before sunset. If the enemy stood off to await reinforcements to ensure their kill, it might offer time enough to alter course, lose them in the darkness. With their far-reaching radar they had an edge on the enemy. But for it, he would never have known about that speck in the clouds, the slow-moving aircraft.
One thing was certain, no battleship or battle-cruiser had been reported in this area as yet. They were all to the north, employed with the convoys or protecting the supply lines as more and more of their troops flooded across the English Channel and into France. He bit his lip. Into Germany.
So it had to be a cruiser. He viewed his unknown adversary from every angle. If they could hold him off, or cripple him without sustaining more damage to the Prinz, they could still break through. Once their intentions were known, the British in particular would pull out all the stops. He remembered when the battleship Bismarck, the greatest warship ever built except for the trapped Tirpitz, had gone down with all guns firing. But it had taken the whole of the Home Fleet to find and destroy her. Revenge gave an edge to every commander, he thought. Their own sister-ship Prinz Eugen had slipped through the blockade then; so could they!
He heard men stand to attention and Froebe's whispered warning. Leitner moved through the bridge, his uniform soaked with rain. He stared at the submarine, his eyes listless. 'How much longer?'
'Ten minutes, sir.'
Some of the visiting one-stripers ducked as the Arado roared from the catapult and lifted above the bridge like a huge eagle on floats.
Hechler glanced quickly at the admiral. He had expected another outburst as to why the plane had been launched without his first being told.
Leitner merely grunted. 'Taking a look, eh?'
'It seems likely we'll have to increase to full speed, sir.' Hechler watched him in brief snatches while he never lost his hold over the ship. 'As soon as it's dark I shall -'
Leitner shrugged. 'The Fuhrer will be watching us. We must not break that faith.'
He moved away and moments later, left the bridge.
Gudegast passed him on the ladder, but knew the admiral had not even seen him. He whispered to Froebe, 'What did you make of that?'
Froebe spread his big hands. 'He knows we shall fight, Josef. He I eels sick about it, and so would I in his shoes.'
Gudegast eyed the captain's intent shoulders. Thank God he was in command, he thought fervently. There had to be a way out. They had done the impossible, sunk, burned and destroyed to the letter of their orders. What was there left?
He clenched and unclenched his fists. In a few moments now the submarine would slide beneath the waves and they would stand alone. He found himself hating it and all its kind. They, more than any other weapon, had brought horror and brutality to the sea. In a few months they had trodden down all the time-won lessons and the code of the brotherhood of sailors, which had once meant more than anything. It was never a perfect world, and some wars were inevitable. But that kind of cruelty would never be forgotten. He glanced up at their flag, like blood against the jagged clouds. Because of them, they were all branded the same.
Ready to cast off, sir. Engine-room reports fuelling completed.'
Hechler straightened his back. 'Pass the word. Stand by, all lines. Warn the wheelhouse.'
He turned and glanced beyond the bridge, past the raked funnel and Leitner's command flag.
Come what may. He was ready.
'New course, zero-one-zero, sir.'
Hechler loosened his collar. The rain, thank God, was moving away.
'Full revolutions.' He stared astern, his hand to the peak of his cap as if at a salute. But there was no sign of the big supply-submarine. It was as if she had never been.
The clouds were much thinner too. Fine for the flak crews, not so good for their Arado, wherever it was.
He felt the ship trembling more urgently and pictured the engine-room dials misting over to the thrust of the three great screws. The wake was rolling away on either quarter, stiff and almost silver against the shark-coloured sea. If only -
He took a telephone from one of the boatswain's mates.
'Captain.'
It was a lieutenant with the damage-control party.
'The compartment is almost open, sir!' He sounded jubilant, as if nothing else mattered. 'Hammer is still all right.'
Hechler smiled grimly. Thank you. Stay with him.'
He shaded his eyes again to watch the sea which seemed to be rushing to meet them, as if he should feel some kind of impact before it parted and sliced away on either beam.
He said, 'Check Turret Bruno. I want a full report.'
As if to mock him, the left gun in that turret lifted like a tusk and then depressed again.
He heard someone say, 'There goes the admiral's crawler.' He did not have to look to know it was Bauer, the communications officer. No one seemed to like him, even less so since the incident on the island.
Hechler beckoned to Gudegast. 'Call communications and try to discover what has happened to our aircraft.' He saw Froebe watching him, gauging his own fate perhaps.
Hechler moved restlessly around the bridge. Horizon to horizon, shining and empty. It made him feel vulnerable, as if he was suddenly stripped naked.
'The admiral, sir.'
He took the handset. 'Sir?'
'I have had an important signal, Dieter.' He sounded emotional. Direct from our Fuhrer. Germany is expecting great things from us He broke off with a curse as the intercom cut through.
'Aircraft, bearing Green four-five!' A pause, then, Disregard, friendly!'
Someone muttered hoarsely. 'About time too!'
Hechler held up his hand. 'Silence on the bridged Apart from the wind through the halliards and superstructure it was suddenly still.
Gudegast whispered, 'Gunfire.'
Every glass was raised yet again, and even men on the gun sponsons crowded to the rails to stare at the empty sky.
Then they saw the long trail of smoke before they could identify the Arado, The smoke lifted and dipped behind the plane like a brown tail, and Hechler saw the drifting tracks of shellfire which told their own story. The pilot must have dared too much and had gone too close to the other ship, or had been trapped by her main armament.
'Stand by on deck to retrieve aircraft!'
Hechler tried not to lick his lips as he watched the Arado's desperate progress. Lower and lower, until he imagined he could see its blurred reflection on the sea's face.
He said, 'Tell damage-control what is happening. I want a side-party with scrambling nets immediately!'
It would mean reducing speed, stopping even, but he could not just leave these men to drown after what they had done.
Someone was using a hand-lamp. So they had been badly mauled, hit with flak enough to knock out their radio.
The senior signalman opened his mouth but Gudegast said, 'Signal reads,
enemy in sight to north-east.' They were all watching him. ‘One destroyer.’ He winced as the plane dived and almost hit the water before rising again like a dying bird. ‘Two, repeat two enemy cruisersV
Froebe said tersely, 'Damage-control, sir.'
Hechler dropped his binoculars to his chest as the Arado lifted towards the sky, staggered and then exploded in a livid, orange ball of fire.
'Tell them to dismiss the side-party.'
Jaeger offered him the telephone, his face ashen.
Hechler watched the smoke as it clung to the heaving water, and pictured the fragments drifting to the ocean's floor like ashes.
'Sir?'
He had to hold the telephone away from his ear as Leitner yelled, 'Two cruisers and a destroyer! So much for your reckoning, damn you!'
Hechler said sharply, There are people here, sir. We just lost some brave men!'
'Don't you dare to interrupt me! The Fuhrer entrusted me with a mission!' He slammed down the handset, and Hechler looked at Gudegast with a wry smile. 'Not pleased.'
Minutes later Theil appeared on the bridge and stared wildeyed, as if he could barely speak.
Hechler faced him, his patience almost gone. 'This had better be urgent!'
Theil swallowed hard. 'Is it true, sir? I have just been ordered to load those boxes aboard the spare Arado!'
Hechler grappled with the words, his mind still lingering on that last hopeless message. Three ships, but one only a destroyer. There was still a chance.
He said, 'Tell me!'
Theil recovered with considerable effort. 'The admiral's aide told me personally. I had just reported that we have forced open the compartment. The boatswain and his men did it. I sent Hammer to the sick-bay. Then I got this order!'
It was all suddenly so clear and simple that Hechler was surprised he could accept it so calmly.
'Then do it, Viktor.' He lifted the telephone from its special rack, half-expecting there would be no reply.
Leitner said, 'Under these circumstances I have no choice. Neither have you. My instructions are to fly immediately to the mainland. The fight goes on.'
Hechler saw the others staring at him, officers, seamen, young and not so young. All seemed to have the same stunned expression. Disbelief. Astonishment. Shame.
'And my orders, sir?'
Leitner shouted, 'You will take immediate steps to prevent this ship from falling into enemy hands! Close the shore and scuttle her!
Gudegast murmured, 'Dear Christ!'
Hechler put down the telephone and looked at Theil. 'Load the aircraft and prepare for launching.' His voice was toneless. 'Then report to me.'
Theil stared at him despairingly. 'Not you too? You of all people!'
Hechler regarded him gravely. 'We do not have much time left.'
As Theil turned in a daze he added softly, 'No, Viktor. Not me!'
He was not sure if Theil heard him. He was not certain of anything any more. He crossed to the bridge wing and watched the crane dipping over the catapult, the brightly painted Arado suddenly perched there, as if this moment was a part of destiny.
He heard her voice on the bridge ladder and said, 'No visitors!' But she knocked Jaeger's arm aside and ran towards him, I won't go! Do you hear? I won't run away because of that coward!'
He caught her and held her, his eyes looking beyond her as he said, 'Slow ahead all engines.'
Then he said, '1 am ordering you to leave.' His voice was hoarse. He tried again. 'I should have guessed, Erika. A hero's return, or a hiding-place in Argentina. You will take him.' He pressed her against his body. 'I have to know that you at least are safe.'
She sobbed into his coat, her face hidden. ‘No! Don't force me!'
Hechler said, 'I need my remaining Arado. Please go now, my dearest Erika. Please, my men are looking to me.'
She stood back, her face very controlled despite the unheeded tears on her cheeks.
Then she said quietly, 'You'll not scuttle, Dieter? That's what you're saying?'
He did not reply directly. 'I shall never forget.'
Then he turned away. 'Escort her to the plane.'
He did not look again until she had left the bridge. He heard the Arado's engine roar into life, saw Theissen holding his cap in place, his face creased with dismay as he realised for the first time he was being left to fend for himself by the man he admired, perhaps even loved.
‘Radar - bridge!' The merest pause. Enemy in sight!'
Hechler barely heard the babble of instructions to the main armament. He strode to the wing and saw Theil by the catapult, then watched with surprise as Theissen was pushed up into the cockpit behind the girl.
'What the hell - !'
Froebe called, 'From damage-control, sir! The door to the admiral's bridge has jammed! A power failure!'
Hechler stared at the brightly painted plane, then very slowly lifted his cap high above his head.
With a coughing growl the Arado bounced from the catapult and lifted away from the ship, its wings glinting in the glare.
'Full ahead, all engines!' Hechler watched the Arado until it turned away and headed towards the western horizon.
Froebe said huskily, The admiral demands to speak with you, sir.'
Hechler recalled Theil's face. He alone must have cut the power from damage control to seal Leitner in his own bridge.
'Starboard twenty!' Hechler removed his oilskin and tossed it behind a flag locker.
'My respects to the admiral, but I have to fight a battle.'
When he looked again the tiny plane had vanished. And yet he could still feel her pressed against him, feel her anguish like his own when they had parted.
He said, 'We shall share our victory, but I'll never share his dishonour!'
Gudegast regarded him soberly. His one regret was that he had not yet begun the painting. Now he never would.
Hechler levelled his glasses with difficulty as the bridge shook to the vibration.
'Steady on zero-five-zero, sir.'
Hechler took the engine-room handset. 'Chief? Captain here. I need everything you can give me.'
'Can I ask?' Stuck sounded faraway as if he was studying his dials.
'We are about to engage. Three ships. Do your best.' He hesitated, knowing that Stuck wanted to go to his men. 'If I give the word -'
Stuck voice was near again. 'I know, sir. I'll get my boys on deck, double-quick.'
Hechler turned away and plucked at the grey fisherman's jersey. It was quite absurd but he wished he had changed into a clean shirt and his best uniform. The others nearby saw him grin and were reassured. But Hechler was thinking of the little admiral. What Nelson would have done.
The speaker intoned, 'Range fourteen thousand. Bearing steady.'
Two cruisers in line abreast to offer their maximum firepower. Hechler could see them as if they were right here. The destroyer was slightly ahead; they would sight her first.
He heard Kroll's clipped tone, caught in the intercom to give another small picture of their world high above the bridge.
'Anton, Caesar and Dora will concentrate on the cruisers. Warn flak control to expect enemy aircraft, spotters, anything.'
Hechler glanced around the open bridge. He might be forced to go up to the armoured conning-tower, but he would hold out as long as possible. He had been brought up on open bridges, where he could see everything. When their lives were in the balance it was even more important that his men should see him.
Kroll again. 'Large cruiser at Green one-oh.' A brief pause. 'She's opened fire.'
Hechler found that he could watch like any spectator as the enemy salvo exploded in the sea far off the starboard bow. A leaping wall of water which seemed so slow to fall. The wind was whipping it towards them, and he could imagine that he tasted cordite. Death.
'Second ship's fired.'
Someone laughed in the background, a nervous, unstable sound, and Kroll's deputy silenced the man with a sharp obscenity.
'Main ar
mament ready, sir!'
Hechler watched the two forward guns swing across the side, at odds with the jammed barrels of Turret Bruno. Aft, the other turrets were already lining up on Kroll's directions and bearings. Hechler jabbed the button below the screen and seconds later the six big guns lurched back on their springs, the roar and ear-splitting crashes punching at the bridge plating like giant battering rams.
More enemy salvoes fell and churned the sea into a maelstrom of leaping waterspouts and falling spray.
More seconds as the layers and trainers made their last adjustments.
'Shoot!'
The deck jumped beneath the bridge and a huge column of smoke burst over the side while patterns of falling debris were lost in seconds in their rising bow-wave.
The voice-pipes settled down into a staccato chorus, reporting, asking, pleading.
Hechler heard the taut replies from his bridge team. More like robots than men.
'Send stretcher bearers. Fire party to torpedo. TS. Report damage and casualties.'
Froebe shouted, 'One hit, sir. Under control.' He ducked as another salvo screamed over the bridge and exploded far abeam.
'Port fifteen!' At this speed the ship seemed to tilt right over before Hechler's calm voice brought her on course again. The din continued without a break, giant waterspouts rising and fading astern as the Prinz Luitpold tore towards the enemy, her own guns firing more slowly than the enemy's. Hechler knew that Kroll was marking every fall of shot, making certain that his crews concentrated on their markers and did not allow them to fall into the trap of a pell-mell battle.
'Direct hit on left ship!' Someone cheered. 'Still firing!'
A great explosion thundered alongside so that for a few moments Hechler did not know if they had received a direct hit in return. As the smoke filtered downwind he felt rain on his face, and was grateful that the clouds had returned. If they could keep up a running fight until dusk ... He winced as two shells exploded inboard and a huge fragment of steel whirled over the bridge to plough down amongst some men at a Vierling gun. He stood back from the screen, tasting bile in his throat as he saw a seaman hacked neatly into halves before pitching down amongst the bloody remnants of his companions.
'Another hit!' The speaker sounded excited. Left ship is losing steerage way!'
iron pirate Page 29
