Most Secret (26 page)

He got stiffly to his feet. “Toss you which of us goes down and has a caulk.”

“You go on down,” said Boden. “I shouldn’t sleep.”

“Okay.” He fumbled in his oilskins and pulled out a watch. “Send someone down to give me a shake at twenty to eight, ’n tell the cook I’ll want a mug of tea and a hot sausage ten to eight. Give you a spell at eight o’clock.”

“All right,” said Boden. “I’ll give you a call if we sight anything before.”

“Aye. I don’t want to miss nothing.”

They rolled on steadily towards the north, over a grey sea covered by low cloud. We had picked our weather well; they saw no aircraft until shortly after noon, when a Hudson picked them up and took the identification signal which they flashed at him. At 12.30 they sighted the Lizard about ten miles to the north and altered course up Channel. They entered Dartmouth at about 20.30, shortly before dark.

*     *     *     *     *

Simon wrote out his report and I had it typed that morning by one of the Wrens in N.O.I.C.’s office. At midday, McNeil, Simon, and I left for London. V.A.C.O. was at his office on the coast; we got there very late that night and saw him first thing in the morning.

He was very pleased with the ship, and listened very carefully to Simon as he was telling him about the raid. He was interested in the state of unreadiness of the
Raumboot
. “You mustn’t expect to catch them in that state again,” he said. “The Germans are very quick to pick up points of that sort.”

McNeil said: “It seems very doubtful if there were any survivors from the
Raumboot
to pass on the information.”

Presently V.A.C.O. asked: “Well now, what is the next move? Are we going to pay off the ship, or have you any plans for going on?”

Simon said quickly, before anybody else could speak: “My officers and crew, they all want to go out and do it again. I think we ought to go again, sir.”

McNeil said: “I agree with that, in principle. But before any operation of that kind is planned, we must have information
about this one. I should oppose doing it again if the Germans are aware that it was a British ship operating a flame-thrower, for example.”

I said: “I agree absolutely with you there.”

McNeil said: “If the Germans are ignorant of that and treat it as an accident, then I think it might be done again. At some later stage we can arrange to tell the people of the town that it is British and Free French action against the Germans. But first of all we must have information.”

V.A.C.O. said: “I should think you’re right. Well, go ahead and get your information, and when you want to do another operation let me know.” He turned to me. “You will see that the ship has everything she may require, Martin, and keep in touch with Brigadier McNeil. Then, when you’re ready, come and talk to me again.”

We went back to London, to my office in the Admiralty. There Simon said to McNeil: “I have been thinking about getting information, sir. I see that it is necessary; I do not want to see my crew lose all their lives. I know Douarnenez, myself. In one day I could find out everything. If I could be put on shore one night, from
Geneviève
, not very far away, and picked up the next night, I could learn everything.”

I said: “Who’s to say that you wouldn’t land straight into the arms of a German patrol? Then the ship might be caught as well.”

McNeil said unexpectedly: “I think we could avoid that, with the information that we have.”

I was silent. He said to Simon: “I was thinking rather on those lines myself.”

McNeil turned back to me. “I should explain,” he said, “that we have been paying more attention to Douarnenez recently. It comes into our Class A category, the places that are ripe for armed revolt. The situation in the town is very tense.”

“Apart from that,” he said, “a landing in that neighbourhood is not difficult. We have done that several times recently.”

I knew nothing of the work of his department. “You have, have you?” I said. “Isn’t the coast guarded by the Germans?”

He said: “Oh, well, it’s guarded against an invading force. That is to say, there are patrols and strong points on the beaches, at the ports, and at all points where troops or armoured fighting vehicles could land. But, obviously, the Germans can’t even patrol the whole extent of coastline that they
have to cover from the North Cape to the Pyrenees. They guard the salient points, and they keep strong reserves at nodal points inland ready to concentrate at any place that may be attacked. But in between the cliffs, where no landing in force could take place, those places are unguarded usually. They simply haven’t got the men.”

“I see,” I said.

“There is no difficulty in putting one man on shore from a row-boat in the night, upon the rocks at the foot of the cliffs between the Saints and Beuzec,” he said. “We have done that more than once. The only danger is the fishing fleet and the
Raumboote;
you’ve got to keep away from them.”

“All this is really rather outside my province,” I remarked.

He nodded. “Let me have a day or so to work upon it,” he said. “I think we could arrange an operation to put Simon on shore there and fetch him off again without too great a risk, say in a week from now.”

He went away and took Simon with him, and I set about the arrears of work that had piled up while I was away. I worked on at the Admiralty till ten o’clock on other matters; from time to time my mind drifted uneasily to
Geneviève
and had to be jerked back to the work in hand. And over a late supper in my flat before I went to bed, the matter crystallised. I was not happy about what we had decided, not quite content.
Geneviève
was a slow ship, though fast for her type, and we were proposing to send this slow ship right back into the same area where she had done much damage. She was a very vulnerable ship, unarmoured and almost unarmed, except for the flame-gun. A
Raumboot
would only have to withdraw out of range of our ship’s flame, which it could do easily with its high speed, and then we would be at its mercy. It could lay off and sink
Geneviève
at leisure.

We were getting terribly dependent upon secrecy, much too much so. We had had luck with a surprise attack; we must not overplay our hand.

If she could have a gun as well as the flame-thrower, a gun that would sink a
Raumboot
, that would enable her to fight it out on even terms, handicapped only by her less speed. Couldn’t we possibly install a 20-cm. cannon in her—for example, an Oerlikon or a Hispano?

These thoughts raced round in my head all night and spoilt my sleep. The matter seemed so important to me in the morning that I passed the rest of my work over to my runner and went
across to Naval Ordnance, and got a handbook and an installation drawing of the gun. By midday I was in the train again upon my way to Dartmouth, to see if we could not possibly find room for it, somewhere, somehow.

I got there too late in the evening to do anything before dark. I had arranged for a naval constructor to meet me on the ship at Dittisham next morning, and early in the morning the truck called for me to take me out to Dittisham, driven by the Wren.

“ ’Morning,” I said, and got into the truck. “How’s the rabbit?”

She smiled and flushed a little. “He’s very well, sir,” she replied.

It seemed to me that I had pulled her leg a little clumsily, and so I said:

“I used to keep a rabbit when I was a boy. They’re rather fun. But I haven’t had much to do with them since then.”

We turned out of the College grounds into the main road. “This one is tremendous fun,” she said. “He’s very tame with Lieutenant Rhodes. You ought to see them having a boxing match together. I’ve never seen a rabbit play like that. He plays just like a dog.”

I said: “Rhodes is very good with animals, I suppose.”

“I think he is,” she said. “He gets very much attached to them. He had a dog once that he had to put away when he joined up. He’s still very much cut up about that.”

We drove on to the ship, where I met the constructor. I had a short talk with Colvin about the gun; he was enthusiastic for it, but doubted if they could find room for it. He got hold of Rhodes and we went down to the hard and were put on board the ship; Boden met us at the gangway.

It was a disappointing forenoon. I had hoped that we could have sunk the gun down the aft hatch; I had forgotten how much gear the ship already had on board in the shape of extra fuel-tanks and the equipment of the flame-gun. We worked over the problem for an hour, and came at last to the conclusion that it was insoluble. For the gun to have any field of fire at all it would have to stand up clear above the deck, betraying the nature of the ship. It was impossible to fit that gun and still maintain the appearance of a fishing vessel.

In the middle of this rather gloomy conference the air-raid sirens went in Dartmouth, and in a very few minutes planes were overhead.

At that stage of the war a daylight raid in any force was quite
unusual, but there were eighteen aircraft in a squadron for this one. It was probably the last raid to be made by Ju.87s upon England. I can’t imagine what the Germans did it for; there was nothing of real value to them in the port at that time and they must have known that they would lose heavily in the attack. It may be that they had wrong information of the movements of our ships.

Each of the aircraft made two dives on Dartmouth and its shipping; the first they each dropped one five-hundred-kilogramme bomb, in the second dive they dropped a pair of one hundreds. From our position three miles up the river we had a grand-stand seat of the whole thing. We saw them screaming down in almost vertical dives and saw the bombs leave the machines. In the crashing bursts of the explosions they zoomed up again perhaps to about five thousand feet, but a flight of three Hurricanes was there by then.

There was little we could do to help, but Boden and André, with a couple of men, were tumbling the Tommy-guns on deck. I said to Boden: “Those things aren’t much good. Don’t waste ammunition on anything but a close-range shot.”

“Very good, sir.”

Nevertheless, he worked on frantically to get the guns ready.

The second dive was spoilt for the attackers by the Hurricanes. The last German aircraft zooming up from the first dive saw two of his comrades shot down in savage bursts of fire, and saw the Hurricanes turning to attack again. From being a disciplined and planned attack the thing developed into something like a raid of wolves upon a flock of sheep. The Hurricanes seemed to be everywhere at once; a third 87 went down in a trail of flame, and then a fourth.

It was too hot for them. They made their last dive on the town and did not zoom again; they swept on at a low altitude, hedge-hopping across country and scattering, working round towards the sea. In that way the fighters could no longer dive on them and, coming up behind, would be a target for the rear-gunners in the 87s.

They scattered across country. One of them came jinking up the river towards us between the wooded hills. Boden said, by my side: “André.
Quand j’ai dit ‘Tirez’, tirez en avance par deux longueurs de fuselage. Compris
?”

The Breton said quietly: “
Oui, monsieur
. Lay off
deux longueurs en avance.
” The other Bretons nodded, fingering the guns.

There was a tense wait as the thing swept on towards us, only a hundred feet up, taking cover in the valley between the hills. Then Boden shouted: “
Tirez!
”

The Tommy-guns cracked out. I crouched down beside the wheel-house with the naval constructor. I did not think this Tommy-gun fire would do any good, but it was better than nothing. But I was wrong. The Jerry swerved and pulled up violently. He passed very nearly over us, and his rear-gunner gave us a vicious burst of fire. Nobody was hit and presently the Tommy-guns reluctantly fell silent, but as the 87 went away low across the hill towards the east it left behind it a white plume of smoke that was not there before. “Glycol,” I said. “You got his radiator,” and no one disagreed with me.

Later we heard that one had come down in the sea seven miles south-east of Berry Head. There was no real evidence till the body of a German rear-gunner was washed up ten days later and the surgeon found two little Tommy-gun bullets in it. I claimed the machine then for
Geneviève
, and it was marked up to the ship.

After that interlude we turned back to the problem of the gun. In ten more minutes we came to the conclusion that it was impracticable. If her camouflage as a fishing vessel were to be maintained we could not fit her with a cannon; it was not possible. The most that we could do was to give her a few Bren guns in addition to the Tommy-guns she had; I decided to see McNeil about that.

There was nothing then for me to wait for, and I had to get back to London. It was doubtful if the raid would not have stopped the train service temporarily from Kingswear, but I knew that V.A.C.O. would be interested to hear the state of the town, and so I told the Wren to take me into Dartmouth.

Rhodes came up just as I was getting into the truck with the constructor. “May I have a lift in with you, sir?” he said.

I said: “By all means,” and he got into the back.

We drove to N.O.I.C.’s office through streets littered with broken glass, making a detour once to avoid a great heap of debris and dust strewn across the road. At the Naval Centre I dismissed the truck, and Rhodes drove off in it with the Wren in the direction of the net defence store.

In the office I got the reports of damage as they came in; I stayed there for about an hour. It was not a very bad account, considering the determination of the Germans. An M.L. had been sunk by a near miss, but it was in shallow water and she
could probably be raised. Two lighters had been sunk, and a number of ships slightly damaged. The total of naval casualties was about thirty, of whom ten or twelve were dead. Among civilians the casualty list was heavier. None of the schools had been hit, but there was a fair list of damaged dwelling houses. One bomb had fallen in the almshouses, and some of the old people had been killed. And they had killed one rabbit!