London Dawn (56 page)

Edward felt as if the commodore had struck him across the face with the flat of his hand. “What sort of survivors are we talking about on the
Hood,
sir?”

“None. Though one report says three.”

“None? Three? How’s that, sir?”

“She blew up, Commander. Sank immediately.”

“Do we have the names of the three survivors, sir?”

“No. I’m aware you have family on board the
Hood.
”

“My sister’s husband, sir.”

“I’m very sorry, Commander. I’ll let you know the moment we receive the names of any who were rescued.”

“Thank you, sir.” He kept his eyes on the commodore. “Do we know who the casualties on the
Prince of Wales
were?”

“Not yet. It’s your son, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“A rotten morning, Commander. All I can offer you is this direct signal from the prime minister.”

He extended his hand toward Edward.

“The prime minister?” Edward took the piece of paper from the commodore’s fingers.

“By way of the Admiralty. But it’s his words. In this case, short and to the point.”

Edward unfolded the note.

SINK THE BISMARCK

Edward looked up.

“We are five hundred miles northwest of Ireland,” related the commodore. “At this point we part company with the troopship of civilians we were escorting to Canada and leave it in the capable hands of HMS
Eskimo.
We are taking the destroyers
Somali
,
Mashona
, and
Tartar
with us in pursuit of the
Bismarck
.”

“Yes, sir,” responded Edward.

“Do you recall the firebombing of London on December twenty-ninth? The prime minister saw that St. Paul’s Cathedral was about to be destroyed and declared it must be saved at all costs. He knew it was a symbol not only of London but of the British people. The same is true of the
Hood.
It was a symbol of our nation. We cannot save her, so we must avenge her. The
Bismarck
represents the German Empire, and we must do our part to remove that symbol from Hitler and the Third Reich. At all costs. We cannot let them keep that symbol. Do you take my meaning, Commander?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It is the belief of all on this bridge that according to information we have received,
Bismarck
is headed to Brest, not out to sea to prey on British shipping. This can only mean she sustained a certain amount of damage during her brief engagement with
Hood
and the
Prince of Wales.
Accordingly, we are about to make a turn to port and head south and east to cut her off. We shall need an all-out effort from the crew in the engine room if we are to have any hope of catching
Bismarck.
And more than a bit of luck or some sort of miracle since
Bismarck
can steam faster than any of our ships. Do you believe in luck, Commander?”

“I expect I do, sir.”

“Do you believe in miracles?”

“I expect I do, sir.”

“When you get a few minutes you may go to the ship’s chapel and offer a prayer up for us all. Meantime, not being able to make our own luck or our own miracles, we do what we can do and make steam. Even that needs a touch from Lady Luck or the Almighty. You know how worn out our boilers are. We are due for a complete refit. The men are doing their best with what we have. Work with them, Commander. Assist them in any way you can. Let me know immediately if they need anything. We must make speed and we cannot do it without a Herculean effort from the engine room and her crew.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Edward saluted. “I shall get right on it.”

Commodore Dalrymple-Hamilton returned the salute. “I shall let you know the moment I have news regarding the crews of
Prince of Wales
and
Hood.
”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Carry on.”

Sunday, May 25, 1941

London

“The Lord sustain us in this continuing battle. The Lord comfort all those who grieve the loss of their loved ones on the
Hood.
” Jeremy’s voice broke. “The Lord comfort my sister in the loss of her husband, Commander Terrence Fordyce, RN. No finer man graced the uniform of the Royal Navy. Christ be with us all, and Christ be with our sailors and our nation. Amen.”

Several amens sounded in the hall used for the St. Andrew’s Cross congregation since the church building’s destruction.

Lord Preston, tears on his face, put his daughter Libby’s hands to his lips. “I shall pray for you without ceasing. I shall do whatever I can do. We all shall, the whole family.”

“Of course you will, Father.” Libby’s face was streaming. “I know I will not be alone.”

Lord Preston turned to Jane. “This is no less true for you, my dear. You have lost a father. We love you with all our hearts.”

Jane bowed her head under a dark veil. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

Both Jane and her mother were dressed in black.

People crowded around the two women and the Danforth family to
express their condolences. Lord Preston eventually broke away, one arm around his wife, and walked outside. They stood there a moment, watching the traffic, watching the people. At one end of the street a newsboy shouted, “The
Mighty Hood
sunk. Nation in a state of shock.
Bismarck
free to attack our convoys. Prime minister orders the pursuit of the German battleship by all available vessels.”

Lady Preston’s eyes filled. “Is it just my imagination, William, or is everyone walking more slowly, are all the cars and lorries moving so much more slowly up and down our avenues and streets?”

“I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say a shroud has descended upon our city and the entire island. The air war has been vicious but we have endured, so the Blitz has felt to all of us like a victory. But the loss of the
Hood
is a defeat. It makes it feel as if no matter what we do, eventually the Nazis shall overwhelm us and conquer our nation.”

“Surely now the Americans will come in.”

“They will not come in, Elizabeth. President Roosevelt will be sympathetic, but it’s not their ship that was lost. Not their
Arizona
or
California
or
Oklahoma.
The day someone sinks their ships is the day they will enter the war. It was the same way in nineteen seventeen.”

She wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Where is Charlotte? We must speak with Charlotte. And Eva, poor Eva. Is there any more news about the casualties aboard the
Prince of Wales
? Any news at all about Owen?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Surely Edward is in it now?”

“Yes, of course.
Rodney
is in pursuit. I don’t see how they will catch
Bismarck
to tell you the truth. But let us keep that to ourselves.”

“We cannot have lost Owen too, we simply cannot. Would God be so cruel, William? Is He that sort of God?”

“He is not that sort of God. But we live in a world where people die and cannot all be saved. This is not Eden; it is not paradise. We must bear up. Faith is our anchor. Not having an anchor, not having faith, only makes matters worse and improves nothing.”

“There is Charlotte coming out of the hall. Eva is with her.” Lady Preston began to walk toward them. “I didn’t see them come in. I have no idea where they sat.”

“I saw them.” Lord Preston joined her. “They were at the back. Far at the back. I couldn’t spot them when we left.”

“The poor children. Our poor country. Fourteen hundred drowned.”

“God have mercy,” Lord Preston said softly as Eva’s tear-worn face turned toward him. “Christ have mercy.”

Monday, May 26, 1941

HMS
Rodney,
the North Atlantic

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

The commodore opened the door to his quarters wider. “I did. Step in, Commander.”

Edward stepped into the room and shut the door to spray and wind and shrieking gulls.

Dalrymple-Hamilton smiled. “I wish to congratulate you. I don’t know how you and the engine room crew are doing it. Several times during this chase we’ve gone two knots beyond our designed speed.”

“The men are marvels, sir.”

“How are you keeping the boilers from bursting?”

“We’re plugging leaks constantly, sir. And pumping seawater on top of the engine parts that are overheating.” Edward cleared his throat. “Sir, the lads are passing out from the heat in the engine room.”

“I see by the look of your uniform it must be something of an inferno down there, yes.”

“Their effort really must not go unsung, sir.”

“With you and me and the other officers it shan’t. Whether the rest of the world ever finds out depends upon what happens over the next day or two. A Catalina flying boat spotted
Bismarck
at ten thirty hours. It was one hundred ten miles southeast of us. So we are holding our present course. Nevertheless it’s bound to reach safety before we or any of the ships can attack her. Have you been down to the ship’s chapel, Commander?”

“I haven’t, sir.”

“Spare a moment and see what you can offer up. I can tell you this—the
Ark Royal
aircraft carrier is set to launch a torpedo attack on
Bismarck.
I’ll be using the Tannoy to tell the men. The
Victorious
wasn’t successful with her air strike on the twenty-fourth. But who knows? Perhaps
Ark Royal
and her Fairey Swordfish biplanes will be lucky—or blessed.” He handed a sheet of paper to Edward. “The casualty list from HMS
Prince of Wales
.”

Edward’s stomach tightened as his eyes ran over the names. Then he relaxed. “Thank goodness, sir. My son’s name is not here.”

The commodore nodded. “It isn’t. But I regret to say the list is not complete. I’ve been informed some have died of their injuries. They promised to send a more complete list soon.”

The fear returned to Edward’s stomach and chest with a harsh grip. “Excuse me, sir—can’t they just tell me if Leading Seaman Owen Danforth is alive or dead?”

“I asked them that twice. But I have received no reply.”

Edward handed the sheet back to him. “Thank you, sir.”

“Dreadfully sorry, Commander.”

Edward saluted and left the commodore’s quarters. He returned to the sting of the wind and waves that hurled saltwater over
Rodney
like gunfire. For a moment he stared at the bow of the battleship and its rough rhythm of plunging into the heavy seas and lifting out of the boil again and again, water seething over the deck and the hull. He removed his officer’s cap and bared his head.

You gave the soldiers salvation at Dunkerque, didn’t You? You gave the RAF their victory last summer and fall. You’ve given Londoners the strength to endure the Blitz. Now You must give the navy something. You must. Over a hundred years have gone by since Trafalgar, but You are the great God who forgets nothing. You remember Lord Nelson’s prayer, I know You do, and I offer it up again on this windswept sea. “May the great God, whom I worship, grant to my country and for the benefit of Europe in general, a great and glorious victory. And may no misconduct, in anyone, tarnish it. And may humanity after victory be the predominant feature in the British fleet. For myself individually, I commit my life to Him who made me, and may His blessing alight upon my endeavors for serving my country faithfully. To Him I resign myself and the just cause which is entrusted to me to defend. Amen. Amen. Amen.
”

Edward lifted his head to the sky and let the wind and water lash his face. “And please, God, I ask You for my son.”

Before midnight Commodore Dalrymple-Hamilton told the ship’s crew there had been torpedo attacks on the
Bismarck
from biplanes on the aircraft carrier
Ark Royal.
However, he cautioned them that no damage to the German battleship appeared to have resulted and that, despite the
best efforts of the
Rodney
’s crew, he did not believe they could catch
Bismarck
before she reached safe harbor in France. Edward felt the dejection on board the ship as he made his way to his room and collapsed exhausted on his bunk.

I see you lying and looking at the ceiling, Charlotte, my love, and I feel the fright in you for Owen and for me. My boy Colm is worried for his brother and father as he lies in the dark of Ashton Park. Eva
—
there you are rescuing people from burning buildings, but you couldn’t rescue the man you love from a burning ship; you couldn’t rescue Owen
—
is that what you’re thinking? Is that what I’m feeling from you as
Rodney
pounds desperately through the waves to try to avenge my son and the man you love? And what good is revenge? What difference will it make?

Edward turned on his side, put out his hand, and touched the cold metal of the bulkhead.

My sister is a widow for the second time in her life. She cries and does not sleep. Her daughter, Jane, has lost a father, and she lies on her bed tonight and cannot dream. Terry was kind to her from the beginning, gentle and kind and playful. He rests on the seabed with over a thousand men, but none of those who loved him or loved his shipmates can rest. Not this night. Perhaps not any night.