iron pirate (14 page)

they would scatter if they fired too soon. It would be harder, and there was always the covering force to consider. A battleship and two heavy cruisers.

'
Aircraft
, sir!' Several of the men gasped aloud. Red one-live! Angle of sight one-oh!'

Froebe said between his teeth, 'Torpedo bombers, lor Christ's sake!'

Orders rattled out from every side and the short-range weapons swung instantly on to the bearing.

Hechler stood in the comer of the bridge and levelled his Zeiss glasses, surprised that he should feel so calm, almost detached.

Two aircraft, so they had to be from the crippled carrier. They must have been flown off just prior to their being torpedoed. He considered it, weighing it up. Each pilot would know he had no chance of returning to his ship.

Like the little
Glow-worm
all over again, the unexpected factor. It would be the worst kind of attack - bravery or coldblooded suicide, you could take your pick.

One of the aircraft might even be radioing a sighting report. So much for radar.

The British senior officer must have outguessed von Hanke, or was it just luck?

He tightened his jaw. 'Short-range weapons stand by. Secondary armament -' his eyes watered in the powerful lens as he saw the two small dots heading towards the ships. They were so low now they appeared to be scudding across the water. He knew their outdated silhouettes well enough. Swordfish, twin-winged torpedo bombers, like relics from the Great War.

He cleared his mind and shouted,
'Open fire!

The line of destroyers were already firing and the sky soon became pockmarked with shell-bursts. It would be tracer and cannon-shell soon, and then -

Ahlmann said thickly, 'The Admiral, sir.'

Leitner sounded faraway. 'The convoy may scatter. Increase speed. Signal the group to engage the enemy as ordered.'

Hechler saw the signalmen bending on their flags and said, 'Full ahead. Prepare to take avoiding action.' He saw Froebe nod. Then he forgot him and the others as the power surged up through the bridge like something unleashed until the whole structure quivered around them.

He had to shout above the sharp bang of the secondary armament, which poured acrid fumes over the bridge as the ship swept forward, faster and still faster.

'Main armament.
Open fire!'

He barely had time to adjust his ear plugs before both forward turrets blasted the air apart to fire upon the target which was still invisible, below
⁷
the horizon.

He looked for the two aircraft and saw them weaving amongst the shell-bursts while bright tracer lifted from the destroyers and crossed their path in a fiery mesh. One of the Swordfish was trailing smoke and it seemed impossible that either of them could survive the barrage.

One thing was obvious.
Prinz Luitpold
was their target.

Aftermath

Neither of the Swordfish torpedo bombers stood any chance of survival, and each pilot must have known it. As they pounded past the line of destroyers, the one trailing smoke seemed to stagger as tracer and cannon-fire tore into it.

Hechler jammed his elbows below the screen and stared at the weaving silhouettes as pieces of the damaged plane splashed into the glistening swell. Seconds later it exploded in a vivid orange flash. When the smoke drifted clear there was nothing to be seen. But the second aircraft was dodging the flak, and even as he watched Hechler saw the torpedo drop from the plane's belly and make a small feather of spray as it hit the water.

The plane continued towards them, shell-bursts, tracer, everything which would bear hammering into it. Perhaps the pilot and crew were already dead, but the Swordfish rolled over and then dived into the sea with a dull explosion.

'Torpedo running to port!'

'Hard a-port!'

At thirty knots the cruiser seemed to lean right on her beam, men falling and clutching anything for support as she thundered round.

‘Steady.
Hold her!' Hechler thought he saw the thin thread of white as the torpedo streaked towards the port bow.

The ship was steadying up, and Froebe croaked, 'Two-eight-zero!'

Leitner's voice broke through the din, distorted and wild on his intercom.

'Signal
Hans Arnim
to He got no further. The destroyer received the torpedo halfway down her port side even as she dashed protectively between it and the flagship.

At full speed the effect was instantaneous and terrible. Half of the forecastle collapsed and then rose in the air as the ship broke in two, the thrust of her screws driving her on and down as they watched.

Hechler said, 'Bring her back on course.' From one corner of his eye he saw the
Liibeck
surging past to take the lead into battle. He could picture Rau laughing as he watched the
Prinz
reeling from the line in confusion. His guns suddenly opened fire, and moments later he saw the tell-tale flash-flash on the horizon to mark the fall of
Lubeck's
salvo.

Gudegast's voice intruded from his armoured conning tower.

'On course, sir. Zero-two-zero.' He sounded calm, even disinterested, even though the destroyer was turning turtle in a welter of smoke and foam.

The intercom reported dully,
'Hans Arnim
has sunk, sir.'

Hechler snatched up the gunnery handset. 'This is the Captain. I am turning to starboard. Bring the after turrets to bear on the enemy!' They had a better chance with four turrets in action.

He said, 'Alter course. Steer Zero-seven-zero.'

He raised his glasses again and winced as the fire-gong preceded the violent crash of the main armament. Kroll was using each turret in sequence, so that the bombardment seemed unbroken and deafening.

jaeger wiped a smokestain from his cheek and gasped, 'The Admiral, sir!'

Leitner strode across the bridge, his silk scarf no longer so white.

He snapped, 'Can't see a damned thing up there. Too much bloody smoke.' He gritted his teeth as the two after turrets fired, gun by gun, the great shells shrieking past the ship and lifting towards the unseen enemy. They sounded like express trains.

Leitner shaded his eyes to look for the destroyer. If there were any survivors they were left far astern, forgotten.

Hechler waited for the guns to shift slightly and asked, Can I signal
Lubeck
to take station again?' He grimaced as the guns thundered out once more, their long orange tongues showing that Kroll was using semi-armour-piercing shells.

The intercom shouted,
‘Straddling!
Two hits!'

Leitner scowled. 'Get up there, Theissen! I want to know what we're hitting today!' He seemed to realise what Hechler had said. 'No. Let Rau have his fun. He can take the lead.'

Flash-flash. Flash-flash. The blink of gunfire, partly masked by a mist along the horizon. It looked like copper-coloured smoke. The screeching hiss of a falling salvo and then the tali waterspouts which betrayed the fall of the enemy's shells made every glass turn towards the
Liibeck.

Leitner said, 'Not even a straddle.'

The intercom shouted again. Another hit!' Somebody sealed behind thick steel was actually cheering. Or going mad.

Gunnery officer, sir.' The lieutenant named Ahlmann looked pale, and was biting his lower lip as another salvo screamed out of the sky and burst into towering columns of spray. They seemed to take an age to fall, as if they were solid.

'Captain?'

Kroll said between explosions, 'We've sunk a wing escort and have hit two merchantmen. One ship is leaving the convoy, range closing. I would say it's a cruiser by her size and speed.'

More waterspouts shot from the sea, changing from white to copper in the weird light.

Hechler stared at the
Liibeck,
which was almost stern-on, her turrets trained hard round to bear on the enemy. Where his own ship should be. The bridge quivered again and yet again and Hechler could feel the din of gunfire probing into his ears like hot wires.

'Enemy in sight, sir! Bearing Red four-five!' Hechler lifted his glasses and scanned the distant mist. No longer empty. A dull, blunt silhouette suddenly wreathed in smoke as her guns fired at extreme range.

Hechler did not lower his glasses. 'Tell the Gunnery Officer to concentrate on the cruiser,’ The forward turrets fired instantly, but it was too far away to see the results.

He heard the gunnery intercom mutter, 'Short.' Then Kroll's voice. 'Four hundred metre bracket!' A pause.
'Fire!'

'Straddling!'

Leitner clasped his hands together. 'Signal
Liibeck
to go for the convoy. We'll take care of this upstart!'

'Two hits!' The rest was drowned by a violent explosion and as Hechler twisted towards
Liibeck
he saw smoke and flame burst from below her bridge and spread upwards and outwards in a fiery scarlet mushroom.

Liibeck
was altering course again, her forward guns firing and recoiling as she concentrated on the convoy as ordered.

The British cruiser had been hit too, but there was no let-up in her gunnery or its accuracy.

The next salvo straddled the
Lubeck
as if she was smashing through columns of ice, and another fire had broken out aft, the smoke trailing astern in an oily screen.

Hechler saw a boatswain's mate start with shock, his eyes glow like twin coals as the
Lubeck
received another direct hit. She was slowing down, her bow-wave dwindling.

The speaker intoned, 'A hit!'

Hechler tried to keep his glasses steady. It was as if they w^ere all struck by some terrible fever. Nothing would hold still, only the guns w^hich fired again and again until thought became impossible. He saw the glow of fires amidst the smoke and knew that the enemy too had been badly hit.

Kroll announced, 'Convoy's scattering, sir. Cruiser's disengaging.'

Leitner snapped, 'What about the other escorts?'

'Some destroyers, I think, sir.' He sounded guarded, aware that he was speaking with his admiral.

The first merchantmen were now in view, ungainly and pathetic as they tried to head away from the oncoming warships.

The damaged cruiser was standing off with two of the destroyers closing around her to take her in tow if need be, or to make a last stand against
Prinz Luitpold.

'Shift target!
Open fire!'

The merchantmen had no hope of survival. One by one they were straddled and set ablaze until smoke stretched across the horizon like a dense curtain.

'Cease firing.' Hechler glanced at the conning-tower, knowing that Gudegast would be watching the helpless merchantmen burn and die. Would be recalling his own life in a peaceful timber ship. There were others in his command who would see beyond the destruction, who would feel disgust as their mindless companions cheered and slapped one another on the back.

The enemy cruiser had been outgunned from the start, but it only took a lucky shell. That was different. But merchant ships were vital to the enemy, who knew that each convoy route had to be kept open, no matter at what cost.

Hechler said quietly, In my opinion we should return to Norway, sir.' He stood his ground as Leitner stared at him.
’Lubeck
is down by the head. Even under tow -'

Froebe called, 'Signal from
Liibeck. Unable to make more than six knots. Request assistance.'

Hechler watched his admiral. That must have cost Rau a lot, he thought.

Leitner shrugged. 'Signal the senior officer, destroyers, to escort
Lubeck
back to base.' He watched the lamp stammering,

The young signalman's face white as he shuttered off the signal.

The aftermath of battle. A convoy destroyed; God alone knew how many had died in the twinkling of an eye, or so it seemed.

Lubeck
's signal lamp flashed again, almost hidden by the dense smoke which billowed from her lower bridge. Through his glasses Hechler could see the splinter holes in her funnels, the great crater left by a direct hit. But the fires were under control.

'From
Liibeck,
sir.
1 require a tow.’

Leitner said, 'Has the destroyer leader acknowledged?' He sounded more impatient than concerned.

'Acknowledged, sir.'

'Very well.' Leitner seemed to take a long breath. 'Discontinue the action, Captain. Phase Two,
if
you please.'

He turned as the smoke-grimed camera crew emerged from where they had been hiding.

Leitner went to the prettier of the two girls and pinched her chin.

'Warm work, eh, my child?'

She stared after him, still too dazed to understand any of it.

Fall out action stations.' Hechler picked up the damage control telephone. 'Viktor? This is the Captain. Come up, will you. We have disengaged.'

Gudegast already had his orders. He spoke on his own intercom. On new course and speed, sir. Revolutions for twenty knots.' It was all he said, or had to say.

Even the men who had appeared on deck as they were stood clown from first-degree readiness must have felt it, like a sickness as their ship turned away from the others, the strange light playing into shadows through upperworks and guns, leaving her wake in a wide, crisp arc.

Rau would be watching. Cursing them and their ship, Leitner most of all. But he was too good a sailor to speak out even with a bitter signal as the sea opened up between them.

Left to the wolves. The British would be out for blood, and every aircraft which could be flown from the nearest carrier would be after Rau's
Liibeck.
And he would know it. In the same way that the captain of the
Glow-worm
had known, or the pilots of the two elderly Swordfish. Death or glory. It was no choice.

Gudegast came to the bridge and waited for Hechler to see him.

Hechler said, In ten minutes I'll join you in the chart-room.'