‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘It’s hard on his wife. She has two children…’ Gifford ground out his cigarette and leaned back in his chair. Drawing a thin file towards him with an air of resolution he said, ‘Now to the heart of the matter. I’m in a quandary: I want an officer for special service, and you are the obvious candidate because of your familiarity with the subject.’
Clark frowned for a moment, and then the past caught him up. ‘My cousin’s document?’
‘Exactly. My quandary is that there are aspects of this assignment that I would have to conceal from any other officer in the Service, any other officer, mark you…’
‘My cousin again?’
‘Yes. He is a very brave man. He runs incredible risks, but he has secured a post of great use to us.’
A torrent of thoughts rushed through Clark’s brain. Kurt, Kurt rising like a spectre to haunt him, to come between him and Magda. Kurt wanting to survive for Magda Liepmann’s sake! But then another thought, too terrifying to contemplate, except that he must consider it, if only to preserve his own chances with Magda!
‘Look, Captain Gifford,’ he said sharply, ‘I am executing the duties of a naval officer in the North Atlantic, I hope to Their Lordships’ satisfaction…’
‘Of course, my dear fellow…’
‘Well, you had better understand that I am not the stuff of which lonely heroes are made. Whatever virtues I may possess do not include being sent into Nazi Germany to make contact with my cousin. Call me a coward if you will, but the thought makes my blood run cold. I would simply funk it.’
Gifford’s look of growing astonishment changed to a grin. ‘My dear chap, relax. The idea never crossed my mind. Your cousin is too precious an asset for us to go clumsily blundering about by trying to make contact with him. In any case, we don’t have to. He’s perfectly capable of making contact with us. Besides, the Director of Naval Intelligence is, believe it or not,’ he said wryly, ‘intelligent enough to passively allow your cousin to tell us what he wishes to, without us asking him things. We don’t get much, but a diamond is not a very big object, you know.’
‘I see.’ Clark felt the prickle of the sweat of relief under his shirt. ‘I thought my speaking German…’
‘Oh, that may come in useful in due course, but no, not now. Actually, we’re more impressed with your talent as an Asdic analyst. You impressed Brenton-Woodruffe and your present SO, Godfrey Talbot, thinks you’re red-hot.’
‘That’s very flattering, sir, but I’m not aware I’ve killed any U-boats yet.’
‘There’s evidence that you’ve helped materially in several possibles. It isn’t your fault if the attack fails at the point of delivery. It’s the picking up and holding the spoor that’s important.’
‘I’m not certain where all this is going, sir.’
‘No, of course,’ Gifford smiled. ‘I’m a bit off-track myself. You recall your cousin’s paper and the super submarines?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Well, they’ve built three. We’ve managed to get the RAF to damage two, one in Hamburg and one at Kiel, but the third has been completed and is undergoing trials in the Baltic. Thanks to information received, we know enough about it to realise something of its potential. It’s not all due to your cousin; since our last meeting we’ve learnt a lot from Dutch sources. As you may know, the terms of the Versailles Treaty prohibited Germany from building any submarines. So the design team from Krupp’s Germania yard were sent off to the Netherlands, where they set up a company called, if I can pronounce it, Ingenieurs Scheepsbouwkantoor. Behind this front, the Germans built what amounted to prototype U-boats, but they were in fact for Finland, Spain and Turkey. They also secretly made parts for a building programme which, by the time you and I were cosily chatting about the potential dangers of the war at sea, quickly provided Grand Admiral Räder with a fleet of over sixty boats. Apart from various classes of attack types, Jerry was also designing larger hulls for use as underwater cargo carriers and supply tankers, as well as the big super U-cruiser that concerned us in September ’39. We know that the U-tankers are about to be deployed now, along with the U-cruiser. Clearly the U-tankers are intended to refuel and resupply boats already at sea. We can therefore confidently predict that they’ll operate in the Atlantic. The question is, while they might have used a wolf pack of this super-class in the Atlantic, what are they going to do with one by itself?’
‘Well, she could operate as a wolf-pack leader, a flagship,’ suggested Clark, ‘as well as an oiler to her sidekicks.’
‘She’d be wasted.’ Gifford shook his head emphatically. ‘No, we think – and we have some grounds for thinking it which you will have to take on trust –’ Gifford said with a quiet emphasis – ‘that she’ll be deployed in the Arctic. You see, while the interdiction of the Atlantic route is directly important to us, keeping us in the war and so forth, interdiction of the northern convoy route to Russia is directly important to Germany. Every tank and aeroplane we send to Archangel or Murmansk is destined for the field to serve against the German Wehrmacht. Our appreciation is that it is actually more important to Berlin that the Russian convoys are stopped, and soon. Don’t forget, with the United States in the war now and with Hitler and the Eyeties declaring common cause with Japan, Berlin’s under increasing pressure. Besides,’ Gifford said cheerfully, ‘it is winter now and Jerry is probably having a grim time of it in Russia.’
‘I see. What about the Russians?’
‘They seem to be holding up very well. Quite surprising really, but there we are. They’re a pretty tough lot.’
‘Yes. Perhaps that shouldn’t surprise us.’
‘Perhaps not,’ Gifford nodded agreement. ‘Now, if we are right about the theatre of operations for which this super U-boat is intended, we need to take measures to ensure she either does not get there or, if by some mischance she does, we destroy her in the Barents Sea. This in turn raises another problem. We need to protect our sources of information, in particular your cousin. We don’t want to go crashing about in either the Baltic or the Barents Sea as though we expect the bloody thing to pop up there; we want a surgical operation undertaken by an officer who understands the absolute, repeat absolute, necessity for secrecy.’
‘Haven’t you already indicated to the Germans that you know about their big U-boats by bombing two of them?’
‘We don’t think so. They were both caught in general raids on U-boat construction yards. We think they will assume the fate of those two boats to be circumstantial.’
‘I see.’
‘Well, as to the secrecy element of what we are proposing, there are things we can do to help. We hope intelligence from the Norwegian resistance will help us destroy this thing before it gets up to the Barents Sea, but bombing her in the Norwegian Leads may not be easy. If I was Räder I’d send her north submerged, fill her up with fuel when she gets to Hammerfest, or Tromsø or Altenfjord and then let her loose on our convoy route. Having the support of other U-boats and the Luftwaffe, she will have the impact of a cruiser, for she has heavy guns. That is what is concerning Their Lordships upstairs and they have warned the Joint Chiefs. Between ourselves, Admiral Pound has long worried about the presence of Tirpitz in Norwegian waters. She is free to attack a convoy at a time or place of her own choosing and other capital units of the Kriegsmarine are known to be in north Norway, or on their way up there, so, with the augmentation of their forces with this super-submarine, a major attack upon a Russian convoy is confidently apprehended.’
Gifford paused and, picking up a chart from a side table, opened it and, laying it over the papers on his desk, turned it so that Clark could see it. The long, eastwards curve of the Norwegian coast trended round past the North Cape until, beyond the indentations of Porshanger Fjord and Varanger Fjord, lay the Kola Inlet and the Gourlo, leading to the White Sea. Ice-free Murmansk lay at the head of the Kola Inlet; Archangel at the innermost part of the White Sea. To the east o
f the entrance of the Gourlo lay the barrier of Novaya Zemlya, two islands separated by a narrow strait. Far to the north of Norway’s North Cape lay the South Cape of Spitsbergen, a polar irony, between which was the isolated hump of Bear Island. Gifford ran his right index finger along a dotted line that wandered from Novaya Zemlya westwards until it curved round and met the South Cape of Spitsbergen.
‘If you wanted to conceal a ship you’d take her up here, inside the summer ice limit. She could sit up there dozing, out of the way of the prying eyes of the Norwegian resistance, the Royal Air Force, or the Russkies, until the moment came to strike at one of our convoys.’
‘A big submarine could make the entire passage underwater,’ Clark said. ‘She could even get into a Norwegian fjord submerged if she had a small surface escort to lead her in, and would only have to surface to refuel.’
‘I see you’re warming to the subject.’
Clark looked up from the chart. ‘Where exactly do I come in?’
‘Well, Clark,’ said Gifford, folding up the chart and putting it to one side. ‘It’s a simple enough matter on the face of it: we want you to go up there and sink the bloody thing.’
Clark raised his eyebrows and let out his breath. ‘As you say, it’s a simple enough matter. What do I get to do this with, sir? A corvette?’
Gifford shook his head. ‘No, sorry, we’ve got to consider the security aspects of the affair as paramount. The whole thing must be undertaken as a clandestine mission. We can’t afford to send a corvette, partly because their movements may well be known to the enemy, and partly because the complement is too large. Someone’s tongue will wag. No, we’ve found a vessel more suitable. A whaler…’
‘A whaler…?’
‘Not a naval pulling boat, but a whale catcher,’ Gifford said with a smile. ‘Good turn of speed, built to a high standard and specially fitted for the job. We have given her long-range fuel tanks and one or two other refinements. At the outbreak of war she was being built by Smith’s Dock on Teesside for Norwegian owners. Moreover, she has a number of sister ships which have been requisitioned for service with the Kriegsmarine. It will not be immediately obvious to the curious who happen to see her that she is a British man-of-war.’
‘I suppose that will help,’ Clark said thoughtfully. ‘What about armament, sir?’
‘A four-inch gun, same mark as you had on Daisy, two depth-charge mortars, one on either quarter, plus a small rack aft. The most potent weapons we intend to fit you with are two torpedo tubes. At the present moment the vessel looks like a pretty standard auxiliary anti-submarine vessel. We’ve had a number of such hybrids in hand since the beginning of the war. The problem is that the fitting of torpedo tubes is most emphatically not standard, so we are going to do that secretly at Scapa Flow. In fact they are fabricating the units in Rosyth now; they’ll be taken north to meet you.’
‘It would seem, sir, that the matter of the commanding officer is all that is left to be considered.’
‘Not quite, Clark. As I say, we’ve had you earmarked for a while, but yes, the crew is the last thing. We don’t want a word of this breathed outside these walls. The crew is being put together piecemeal. A chap in the Second Sea Lord’s department has been cherry-picking commended ratings and POs out of Home Fleet and Western Approaches ships for some time. Apart from officers, we’ve a list of about twice as many as we need so that we have a good chance of getting what we want, when we want ’em. No good wanting Able Seaman Jack Tar if he’s sitting on a bar stool in Halifax, Nova Scotia, or sunbathing on a cruiser in the South Atlantic.’
‘No, of course not.’ Clark paused a moment. ‘Do I have any choices, sir? I’m thinking in particular of a second-in-command, if you’ll allow me that luxury, and an Asdic operator.’
‘No, you don’t,’ said Gifford bluntly.
Clark pulled a face. ‘That’s a shame, because a good Asdic operator may prove important, especially in the ice. I’d need to be up north early enough to get some experience in the ice and I was hoping to have someone as good as my best man in Daisy.’
‘Are you pleading with me?’ Gifford said, his face serious.
‘Yes,’ answered Clark, meeting the commander’s rather stony expression. ‘I rather think I am.’
‘Well, there’s no chance of changing things now. You’ll have to put up with what you get.’
‘That’s a pity.’
‘Don’t you want to know his name?’
Clark shrugged. ‘Does it make any difference?’
‘How does Carter sound to you?’
‘Daisy’s Carter?’
‘Don’t look so bloody incredulous, Clark, it ruins your good looks! Of course it’s Daisy’s Carter!’
‘Well, that’s wonderful,’ Clark responded, beaming. Then he added, ‘So you’re already selecting people, from your shortlist.’
‘Oh, yes. Time’s pressing and the ball’s already rolling.’ Gifford went on crisply. ‘As for your first lieutenant, we’ve got a chap whom I don’t think you’ll know, but I am pretty confident you will get along with. He’s a regular and has already made a name for himself by some very distinguished service. You’ll understand that I can’t go into details, just as I can’t tell him all that I’ve told you. The only facts germane to the matter presently in hand are that he is a very good navigator and is very cool under fire.’
Clark wondered what the man had done to get such an understated recommendation. ‘Is he a destroyer man?’ Clark hazarded, seeking a chink in Gifford’s reticence.
‘Yes. Shrewd of you.’
‘Any other officers?’
‘Yes, a Norwegian naval lieutenant and a sub from the RNVR. Both come recommended. We’ve got an engineer officer for you, another Norwegian chap, and he is quietly selecting his own black-gang. He has experience with Norwegian whalers in civvie life. As for the rest –’ Gifford withdrew a brown envelope from his file – ‘they’re all good men, and we’ve given you just enough to maintain watches for a longish trip with the possibility of manning the gun and torpedo tubes in a surface action. The alternative scenario is an underwater attack, in which case you are equally well provided for. We’ve given the details a lot of thought.’ Gifford handed the envelope over. ‘There’s the final list of your complement, the men we’ve selected from those available in the country at the moment…’
Clark took the envelope and opened it, giving it a quick glance as Gifford went on. ‘You should all arrive on Teesside on Friday evening. Naturally, you’re the first to know, we thought you ought to have a couple of days to sort things out, get your half stripe put up, make your will if you haven’t already done so, though I’m sure you have…’
‘And the others?’
‘We’ll leave you to tell them. I want you to return here on Thursday and we’ll have a number of pro formas for you to take with you. It’ll make things easier. Now, there will be written instructions, of course, but you won’t get them until just before sailing and you won’t be able to open them until you are over the Arctic Circle, but you clearly cannot go to sea without a full and fundamental understanding of what this particular mission is all about, and what is expected of you. Oh, and I almost forgot, on Thursday the First Sea Lord wants to see you.’
‘Admiral Pound?’
‘Sir Dudley himself.’ Gifford smiled. ‘I don’t suppose you’ll have time to have your half stripe up by then, though…’ Gifford looked at his watch. ‘I don’t know, you’ve probably got time to catch a taxi to Gieves and get a new uniform ordered. Anyway, I expect he’ll forgive you for being improperly dressed in the circumstances, Lieutenant Commander.’
Gifford held out another envelope. ‘That’s the only document you can take with you this afternoon.’ Gifford leaned back in his chair and took out his cigarettes. ‘Go on, read it now,’ he said, waggling the unlit cigarette between his lips.
To the flick of Gifford’s lighter, Clark opened the envelope and read of his promotion. Folding it he replace
d it and tucked it in his breast pocket, taking the cigarette Gifford held out. ‘It’s been quite a day, sir.’
‘I suppose it has. Congratulations, anyway.’ Gifford smiled. ‘I shall pay you a visit before you sail to keep you abreast of the latest intelligence information and hand you your written operational orders. On Thursday you’ll get detailed orders to prepare your ship, but nothing more. The rest of it I leave up to you.’
There was a moment’s silence as Clark digested this information and then he asked, ‘By the way, sir, what’s the whaler’s name?’
‘By heaven, haven’t I told you that?’
‘I don’t recall it.’
‘She goes by the name of His Majesty’s Armed Whaler Sheba. Rather regal, I thought.’
‘And my objective? Does she have a name, or just a number?’
Gifford ground his cigarette out and stood up, shaking his head. ‘We don’t know, but our informant calls her Orca, after the killer whale.’
‘Seems appropriate,’ Clark said, uncomfortably reminded of Kurt and reflecting briefly on the thin thread of kinship and circumstance that linked him with his distant cousin.
‘I’ll see you on Thursday,’ said Gifford. ‘Go home and enjoy forty-eight hours of fun. It may be a while before you get another opportunity.’
Fun, he thought, as he left the Admiralty and hailed a taxi in Whitehall. But then the image of Magda’s white body swam into his mind and he felt the quickening prickle of lust.
‘Savile Row,’ he told the cabbie, climbing in.
‘’Ome fer Christmas, Guv?’
‘Hope so,’ said Clark. There was not a snowflake’s hope in hell of such a thing, he ruminated, but a night with Magda seemed a wonderful substitute, and beyond that…? Well that was not to be thought of. Except that it was north into the pack ice and the white nights of the Arctic.
* * *
From Gieves’s establishment in Savile Row, Clark took a second cab to Euston where he caught the last train to Liverpool. He submitted to a cold, stop-start journey during which he fitfully dozed and dreamed, curled in his heavy naval bridge coat and ignoring the other inhabitants of the carriage. In his waking moments he thought of his mission and it dawned on him that, in the torrent of Gifford’s briefing, no mention had been made of how he was to locate this mysterious super U-boat. But then he consoled himself with the thought that this was not something they could consider in anything other than the light of the most recent intelligence; Gifford had said he would personally come up to Scapa Flow and pass that on to him in due course. In the meantime, Clark had a ship to commission.
Dead Man Talking Page 11
