The Man who Missed the War (51 page)

Gloria nodded. ‘That’s about it, Boy. Although the President seems to have been mighty keen on opening a second front for ages past.’

‘So has Churchill for that matter. We know now that he had put his people on to plan the taking of Cherbourg in an operation called “Sledgehammer” before the United States had even entered the war; and if it hadn’t been for the mess-up in North Africa he would have done “Round-up” as a full-scale invason in 1943. The only reason that the big-shot sailors, soldiers and airmen have hesitated is because they realise better than anyone else the appalling risk of such an operation. After all, the Germans couldn’t do it. They funked it even when they were at the height of their power, and Britain was almost unarmed, and alone. The trouble with an invasion is that once it’s started there can be no pulling back; no breaking off the battle and cracking in again a fortnight later a bit further along the line. If this thing does go wrong it will have the most appalling repercussions. To start with, a great part of the best manhood of Britain, the States and Canada will certainly be killed. And, if it looked as if the Allies would never be able to land an army in France at all, that’s the one thing that really might make U.J. throw in his hand. That brings us back to what I started to say. I don’t believe for a moment that Uncle Joe ever had the least intention of ratting on us, but one can hardly doubt that the Anglo-Americans came back from Teheran definitely committed to opening a second front this summer.’

‘To my mind ‘tis just as well they did,’ Gloria remarked. ‘What hope would they have of defeating Hitler if they left it even to the autumn? By then poor old London will be a heap of rubble from his V-bombs, and all these fine landing-craft we see on the screen when we take a trip down to the South Coast will be smashed to smithereens or sunk in the mud of the harbours.’

‘I know. It’s the very devil, isn’t it? Even if we could escape and get home and, more fantastic still, persuade them to call off the invasion, it wouldn’t do any good in the long run. Yet, the alternative is to sit here and see the whole thing sabotaged by a most frightful storm.’

‘But do you really think, Boy, these devils here will be able to create such bad weather as to sink all these fine modern ships?’

‘God alone knows!’ Philip muttered. ‘We’ve never had a chance to see what they can do yet, because they’ve been husbanding every ounce of power they can put by for D-Day. But
it’s not a matter of sinking the ships; if they can raise even a moderately heavy sea that will be quite enough to prevent our landing-craft getting their freights safely on to the beaches.’

As it so happened they were to witness a demonstration of the Atzlanteans’ powers to control weather conditions many thousands of miles away on the following afternoon.

Zadok did not always conduct the screenings personally. He spent most of his time with Number One team, and one of his deputies named Kishdil usually directed Number Three’s operator. On this occasion the two senior teams both happened to be observing scenes of which Zadok was particularly anxious to have a record, so he came hurrying in to Number Three.

He gave quick instructions in Atzlantean, which neither Philip nor Gloria understood, but they saw the picture at which they were gazing suddenly dissolve and, a moment later, its place was taken by a wide expanse of sea.

As the picture came into focus they could see two groups of warships several miles distant from each other. From what Philip remembered of his father’s books showing the silhouettes of the principal ships in the navies of the world, the first group consisted of the German battle-cruiser
Hipper
and a light cruiser of the
Köln
type. The second included a British battleship mounting a four-gun barbettee forward, which made him believe her to be of the
King George V
class.

Visibility was fair, and the sea moderate. They could see two British aircraft darting high above the flak the Germans were sending up and evidently keeping their own ships informed of the enemy’s position. Zadok meanwhile had given some orders to the assistant who was sitting up at the far end of the room near the retorts. A lever was pulled over, electric flashes came and went in a number of tubes and bulbs, then a large retort gradually filled with what appeared to be red vapour. At another order from Zadok the lever was pulled back and the red vapour disappeared.

Philip stared at the sea-scape, expecting every moment to see rain come sheeting down, but nothing happened. Zadok noticed his anxious expression and said in English:

‘Number Two team was observing a conference at the Admiralty when a signal was brought in for the First Sea Lord.
Fortunately, he read it out to his companions. It was a report that the spotting aircraft of a British Squadron had picked up the
Hipper
off the Norwegian coast and that the Squadron was closing in. I’ve done my best to save the Germans, but it needs half an hour for any action taken here to affect the weather in Europe.’

It was difficult for Philip and Gloria to restrain themselves from cheering the British Squadron on during the half-hour that followed, but the ships seemed well matched for speed, and the British gained only very slowly on the Germans as they raced through the water towards the shelter of the Norwegian fjords. With only a few minutes to go the British battleship fired two shells at maximum range. They sent up great fountains of water only a few hundred yards from the
Hipper’s
stern. Then the outline of the ships became very faintly blurred. It had begun to rain. The battleship fired again—a four-gun salvo this time. The
Hipper
heeled right over under the impact of the explosions close to her port side, and tons of water cascaded down on to her deck; but the scene had now gone misty. It was raining hard. Rocking back on to an even keel, the German changed her course. The next salvo from the battleship missed her by a quarter of a mile. It was evident that the range-finders could no longer see the target, and the German was now shrouded even from the aircraft overhead by the pouring rain. Zadok heaved a sigh of relief, while Philip cursed silently as the
Hipper
altered course again and slipped away unseen to the security of her hideout in the Norwegian coast.

It was only a few days after this that Zadok spoke one morning quite openly to Philip of the Atzlantean plans to sabotage operation
OVERLORD
, as the Anglo-Americans had named their plan for the return to the Continent.

‘O
VERLORD
,’ he said, ‘is by far the greatest and most complicated operation of war that has ever been undertaken. Its complexity far exceeds the much weightier Russian offensives because, to be effective, an entire army must be landed on the coast of France within the space of a few days. That means not only getting ashore several hundred thousands of men but also many thousands of lorries, hundreds of tanks, each weighing several tons, hundreds of guns, millions of boxes of ammunition,
motor cycles, staff cars, petrol, food, balloons, ground equipment for airfields, and the innumerable other items all of which are absolutely essential to the waging of modern war. And it does not end there. It is not enough to get these huge swarms of men ashore with their initial requirements. They will be eating, firing and consuming petrol every hour of the day and night from the second they land. If their supplies run out even for an hour they will be in great danger; if their supplies are cut off for a day they will be lost. Yet everything for their maintenance must be sent in day after day over the open beaches.’

‘Yes,’ Philip agreed with apparent cheerfulness. ‘If you can get a really good storm going they won’t stand a hope in hell.’

Somewhat to his surprise, Zadok replied: ‘We must prevent their ever starting if we can. It is a pity that we cannot let them land in good weather, then stop their supplies of food and munitions reaching them a few days later. I feel that, if we could keep them cut off for even three days, that would be quite sufficient to enable the Germans to drive the whole Anglo-American army back into the sea. But the Lord Toxil does not agree with me. He says that the risk is too great. He fears the tremendous tenacity which both the British and the Americans display once they have committed themselves to a course of action. He thinks, too, that the opposition we shall be up against will make our own task no light one.’

‘What sort of opposition?’ asked Philip, striving to keep out of his voice the excitement he felt at the thought of the secret machinations of the Atzlanteans being met with any opposition at all.

Zadok shrugged his skinny shoulders. ‘
OVERLORD
is the crucial operation of the Second World War. If the Anglo-Americans succeed in establishing an army in France during June, Hitler will be caught between two fires. We may be able to help him to keep going for a year or so, but in the end he will be inevitably crushed. On the other hand if the Anglo-Americans fail in June they will never be able to land an army based on Britain in France at all. Years must elapse before any other method of doing so could become a practical proposition. Long before that Russia will become exhausted and Hitler will have rockets with
a great-enough range and power to destroy the big city ports of the American eastern seaboard. It will then only be a matter of time before Hitler is able to soften Britain sufficiently to invade and conquer the island. Once that is accomplished the shipbuilding yards and aircraft plants of all Europe will be at his disposal. Then it will be the turn of America. That is what hangs on the success or failure of
OVERLORD
. Others are just as well aware of that as ourselves. I speak now not of the living but of the dead. On D-Day every spiritual force, even to the most distant past, which has contributed to the Anglo-Saxon civilisation and the making of the Free Democracies in both hemispheres will be thrown in against us.’

‘You mean,’ said Philip slowly, ‘that, as well as a down-here battle on the physical plane, there will also be a titanic conflict in the unseen spiritual world above?’

‘Exactly. That is why the Lord Toxil is not prepared to take the risk of allowing the Anglo-American spearheads to get ashore. By not doing so we miss a chance of offering a fine sacrifice to Shaitan in the thousands of Anglo-Americans who would be killed and drowned if their Army was driven off again; but as against that, if we succeed in preventing the invasion altogether, in due course Hitler will be able to offer up the whole Anglo-Saxon race, in the same way as he is now eliminating the Poles and countless thousands of other people in his concentration camps.’

Philip nodded. ‘Yes, I see the idea. But how long will you be able to ensure really bad weather in the Channel in midsummer? Even if the Allies can’t go in on June the Fifth, as they have planned, they might still be in time to overrun Hitler’s V-weapon sites if they go in at the end of the month.’

‘They would never be able to get ashore then, and they will know it, so the attempt will not be made,’ Zadok replied with a crafty smile flickering over his thin lips. ‘This enterprise is so vast that one human brain can hardly grasp it. You have already seen some of the hundreds of ships and landing craft that are assembling along the south coast of England, but there are many hundreds more on the west coast and in the great ports up in the north; then there are the naval task forces which are still up in Scotland. All these must be brought down to the assembly
point off the Isle of Wight. That cannot be done in a day. The movements southwards will start at least a week before D-Day. By D-minus-Two there will be such an armada massed within a hundred miles of Southampton that any German reconaissance plane seeing it will know that the invasion is due to start immediately.’

Then the Anglo-Americans will not be able to achieve surprise in any case?’

‘They might still do so if the R.A.F. can keep all German aircraft off from D-minus-Two. But even if the concentration is reported on D-minus-One that will not allow sufficient time for the Germans to bring their strategic reserves into a suitable position to resist the blow.’

‘You hope then to hold the concentration there by bad weather long enough for the Germans not only to spot it but to move up their reserves?’

‘That is our plan. On June the Third, D-minus-Two, we shall start our storm. The cloudy weather should ensure a German aircraft being able to slip in and out without being shot down by the R.A.F. On June the Fifth, or at the latest the Sixth, the Germans will know that the invasion is imminent. If we can give them till June the Tenth they should have completed their redispositions. The R.A.F. will see and report these German troop movements. From that point the Anglo-Americans will know that it would be suicidal to attempt the operation, so the invasion forces will be dismantled and the project of landing an army on the Continent will be indefinitely postponed.’

It was on the same day as this discussion that Zadok first pointed out General Gale to Philip. For some little time now the block in the West End square and the headquarters in Western London had both been semi-deserted. General Eisenhower and General Montgomery had moved to their Invasion Headquarters. Such changes were easy for the gazers to trace as, if some prominent personality disappeared for a few days, he could almost certainly be picked up by one of the teams on his next visit to the Offices of the War Cabinet, and his car with its flying pennant followed back when he left for his new location. So the principal places of interest for Number Three team were now a great area of hutments covered with camouflage
netting in Bushey Park, a little way outside London, and a lovely old country house set in fine private grounds down in Hampshire.

That afternoon the Number Three team had been overlooking a conference about marshalling areas, at which General Montgomery was present, and when it broke up he took aside another General, a big, powerfully built man who stood half a head taller than most of the other people in the room, to have a word with him alone.

Zadok was standing behind Philip at the time, and he said: I want you to take careful note of the big man to whom General Montgomery is now talking, so that you will recognise him again. His name is Richard Gale, and is he the Major-General Commanding the Sixth British Airborne Division.’