Altered States – Volume II. Darkest Hour

Chapter 31

When Lieutenant Commander Wells got the news he had been nominated for a promotion and appointment to his first ship he was elated. Then he learned he was to be reassigned to HMS Glorious and his mood dampened. He had his hopes set on a fast cruiser, and might even have been more pleased to Captain a destroyer. He knew they would never give him anything bigger, and was very surprised when he learned he would now be commanding his old carrier.

At least Woody will be there, he thought. Old Woodfield. What will he say now that I’m sitting in Captain D’Oyly Hughes chair? Well I can start changing things right off, the minute I set foot on the ship. I’ll coordinate well with the Air Wing Commander. I hear Heath was exonerated and returned to the ship after Lieutenant Commander

Stevens went down in that brave attack against the Twins. My Executive Officer is a good man, Alfred Lovell, and then there is Mister Barker to be relied upon, as good a Lieutenant Commander as they come.

So he thanked Admiral Tovey for the internship aboard HMS Invincible, and even more for his faith in him at the helm of Glorious.

“You’ll have a tough job ahead down there, Wells,” said Tovey. “Somerville is a no nonsense admiral, professional through and through, but with a good heart and outstanding character. I’m sure you will learn much more from him than I could ever teach you here.”

“Yet one day I might be glad to be back aboard a battlecruiser, sir,” Wells smiled, shook the Admiral’s hand and he was on his way.

Once he found himself in the Captain’s chair he became a no nonsense Captain as well. They had sailed south with two venerable old battleships, Rodney and Nelson, and a pack of destroyers. Wells made sure he had planes up in every direction, mostly on U-boat watch for he knew the German capital ships were all up north at the time. Yet he would certainly not ever allow himself to be caught flat footed, and always had a good watch posted on the mainmast and a second squadron spotted on deck at all times.

It wasn’t the Germans he had to worry about for the moment, he thought. Strange to think it was the French now! That navy has some fine ships in it. What if they fight? Will it come to that? One look at those two fat battleships out there told him all he needed to know about what might happen. So now he set his mind on planning what his role would be in these operations.

Soon they reached Gibraltar, the men glad to feel the warm July breeze of the Mediterranean as the ship pulled into the harbor. It was not long before he was summoned to present himself to Admiral Somerville, who now set his flag on HMS Nelson.

“Mers — el-Kebir, gentlemen,” said Somerville. “That is the primary French base in French Algeria, Oran, and I am now in receipt of a message from the Admiralty directing me to take immediate and drastic action against French ships remaining in Oran. “

The Flag Officers and senior Captains were all meeting on HMS Nelson for the final briefing prior to the launch of what was now being called “Operation Catapult.” Somerville opened with a brief rundown of what Force H might encounter.

“A pair of older battleships are presently there, Provence and Bretagne, but also the two new battlecruisers, Strausbourg and Dunkerque. They are accompanied by four light cruisers, sixteen destroyers and a fist full of submarines. The rest is riff raff. Now while I should be delighted if Admiral Gensoul decides to join with us, we must be firm in insisting his ships are demilitarized, and that failing, scuttled in place should he decline other options. Any questions?”

Wells immediately raised his hand. “Have we communicated with Admiral Gensoul on this matter, sir?”

“Not yet,” said Somerville, tall, trim, his uniform immaculate and every bit the English gentleman that he was. A navy cadet at the age of just fifteen, he made Lieutenant in only five years, a specialist in radio signals and communications. He won the DSO at the Dardanelles campaign in the first war, then commanded a destroyer squadron during the Spanish Civil War before coming home to study radar applications. In 1940 he had served in the evacuation at Dunkirk before being sent to the warm Med again to organize Force H at Gibraltar. Churchill had now handed him the first real heavy lifting for the new battlegroup, a showdown with the powerful French Navy. He had requested Hood and Ark Royal, but they sent him Nelson, Rodney, and Glorious instead. That was good enough.

“No,” he continued. “We want to maintain the element of surprise. Once we appear off shore at Oran, then we have a good man slated to go in on a destroyer and may the initial contact. We will give the French a list of reasonable alternatives, but must be prepared to act decisively, and in a timely manner, if they are not accepted… as distasteful as this prospect seems. I must also tell you that Admiral Cunningham at Alexandria has expressed strong opposition to the proposal that we resort to force, and while I am inclined to agree with him. We could make a defeated ally into an active enemy if this operation spins out of control. I have expressed these views to the Admiralty and I have been informed that the civilian leadership, remains adamant on the matter.”

Everyone there knew that the civilian leadership meant Churchill, and the word adamant was well applied

“Then we are to attack the French by surprise, sir?”

“We intend to arrive by surprise, Mister Wells, and then give fair warning. I must place Force H in a position to have every option available, and therefore this movement will benefit from the element of stealth. We will leave at dusk, steam throughout the night rigged for black, and expect to reach our destination at dawn.”

“Sir, should our proposals be rejected, am I to expect orders to coordinate a torpedo attack?” Wells wanted to know just what he was in for, as distasteful as it seemed to be planning the betrayal and demise of a former friend and ally. All the other senior officers were equally bothered by the prospect, yet ready to do their duty if so ordered.

“You opinion on that, Captain?” Somerville handed the question back to him.

“Without some supporting fire to silence enemy flak guns protecting the harbor, sir, it would be very risky, and could be a costly option.”

“Admiralty was of the same opinion,” said Somerville. “The presence of netting at the harbor entrance also precludes the use of destroyers to make such an attack. You should, however, be prepared to execute mining operations so as to prevent any French ships from leaving port. Yet do not be too eager, Mister Wells, even this option will likely be an order of the last minute. To do so too soon could be perceived as a hostile act at a most delicate moment, and prevent the French from accepting our proposals.”

“I understand, sir. May I suggest that our first operation be limited to reconnaissance? This would allow us to determine if any of the French ships are making steam or hoisting boats to indicate signs of imminent departure.”

“A good point, Mister Wells, and so ordered. It would also be wise to keep a close eye on the submarines present. Should any be seen to slip their births, 8th destroyer flotilla will be prepared to handle the matter. Your aircraft should be prepared to support this action. Now then, I think it best I read to you the ultimatum I have drafted, if you will all bear with me. I think it’s fair, and I hope it will be well received.”

Somerville took up a typewritten page and began:

“It is impossible for us, your comrades up to now, to allow your fine ships to fall into the power of the German enemy. We are determined to fight on until the end, and if we win, as we think we shall, we shall never forget that France was our Ally, that our interests are the same as hers, and that our common enemy is Germany. Should we conquer, we solemnly declare that we shall restore the greatness and territory of France. For this purpose we must make sure that the best ships of the French Navy are not used against us by the common foe. In these circumstances, His Majesty's Government have instructed me to demand that the French fleet now at Mers el Kebir and Oran shall act in accordance with one of the following alternatives:

(a) Sail with us and continue the fight until victory against the Germans.

(b) Sail with reduced crews under our control to a British port. The reduced crews would be repatriated at the earliest moment.

If either of these courses is adopted by you we will restore your ships to France at the conclusion of the war or pay full compensation if they are damaged meanwhile.

(c) Alternatively if you feel bound to stipulate that your ships should not be used against the Germans unless they break the Armistice, then sail them with us with reduced crews to some French port in the West Indies-Martinique for instance-where they can be demilitarized to our satisfaction, or perhaps be entrusted to the United States and remain safe until the end of the war, the crews being repatriated.

If you refuse these fair offers, I must with profound regret, require you to sink your ships within 6 hours.

Finally, failing the above, I have the orders from His Majesty's Government to use whatever force may be necessary to prevent your ships from falling into German hands.”

Somerville put the paper aside. “That was the easy part,” he said. “The real work is in your hands, gentlemen. Should all else fail the code word signaling opening of hostilities is Anvil, and the guns of the battleship squadron shall be the hammer. We sail for Oran in three hours. That will be all.”

Those three hours never went by so quickly. The destroyers were out first, eleven in all. Then came the light cruisers, Arethusa and Enterprise. Behind them the big battleships moved in a stately procession, Resolution, Valiant, Nelson and Rodney. Wells was to bring up Glorious in the rear, with a flotilla of destroyers waiting in escort when the ship cleared the harbor. It would be a journey of 420 kilometers to Oran, which was over twelve hours sailing time east into the Alboran Sea and the Mediterranean.

As the ships steamed out of the harbor, a man was watching from the Spanish coast sitting lazily on the beach at the little coastal town of Concepcion, north of the isthmus of Gibraltar. He raised a brown hand, squinting, then stood up slowly, brushing off his white trousers and slipping his sandals back on. It was a beautiful hot late July day, and he wished he could stay longer, but now he had business to attend to.

Juan Enrique Calderon had sat on that beach every day that month. The show he was watching now was supposed to have been staged much earlier, on July 3rd in the history Fedorov knew. Instead the action in the Denmark Strait had delayed these events, and shuffled the cast a bit, but the script of the play would remain the same, right down to each letter and period in Admiral Somerville’s note of ultimatum.

Now Juan had his little part to play, just a note scribbled on the margins of these great events, but one that would have a most dramatic effect. He walked into the little hotel there on Paseo Martimo, and slipped into the telephone booth, his brown finger dialing quickly.

The voice on the other end of the line answered with the familiar greeting, and Juan Enrique spoke his quiet message. “Just calling to confirm that I will definitely attend the event tomorrow morning. Please tell my friend that it is a beautiful day here. The birds are lovely off the coast, I saw four white doves and a nice fat goose! I wish he could see it.”

That was all.

Yet it was enough to change all the history that would be recorded on the following morning, for Senor Calderon was working for a deeply nested intelligence section keeping a close eye on British ship movements at Gibraltar, and the four white doves were the four battleships out there on the horizon now, with one fat goose behind-HMS Glorious.

When Admiral Marcel-Bruno Gensoul received the news that a large British task force was now heading east from Gibraltar, he was understandably tense and upset. What would a British force of that size, four battleships and a carrier, be doing? He knew before he had even finished asking himself. The question now was what would he do? He looked out on the fleet where it lay at anchor and realized his predicament. The guns of his most modern ships were pointing landward. Strausbourg and Dunkerque had two quadruple turrets both forward of the conning tower. If caught in their present position they would have no chance if hostilities were to break out.

A disciplined and efficient man, Gensoul was under no illusions about his situation now. Unless he took his fleet to sea, and quickly, it would not survive. He immediately sought instructions from the French Admiralty, pacing as the sun hung lower in the sky, knowing that the British had departed from Gibraltar at 15:00. At 17:00 he was informed by cable that Darlan could not be located, and that the French Chief of Staff, Vice-Admiral Le Luc at French Naval headquarters at Nerac, was now issuing an order for all French naval forces to prepare for imminent hostilities.

Admiral Gensoul was in a quandary. He knew what the British really desired, not conflict but alliance. They hoped his fleet would be sailed to English ports, but this would clearly be impossible. To do so would immediately violate the terms of the armistice signed with Germany and could lead to the complete occupation of all free French territory by the German army. Yet to turn his guns on the British was also an agony. It would create a situation where Vichy France became a de facto ally of Germany, in full cooperation with the Nazi regime, which was a proposition he knew Darlan was strongly considering.

His third alternative would be to try and sail to a neutral port, perhaps Martinique in the Caribbean, where the Old French carrier Bearn had sailed after secretly hauling a load of gold bullion from the Bank of France to safety in the United States. In return Bearn was receiving a new air wing from the Americans consisting of 27 Curtiss H-75s, 44 SBC Helldivers, 25 Stinson 105s, and also six Brewster Buffaloes. The planes were to be loaded and delivered as part of the Belgian Air Contingent, but that was over now. There was no free government in Belgium any longer. He could not sail west in any regard. Not without the likelihood of encountering the Royal Navy and a battle at sea.

That left the sour alternative of scuttling his ships in place, and he knew that this is what the British would demand in time. Refuse that and their guns would fire soon after. He had little doubt of the outcome should he leave his ships where they were.

Vice-Admiral Le Luc sent a further message at 17:20 indicating he was planning to send the French squadrons at Toulon and Algiers to Oran as an immediate reinforcement, but Gensoul knew this would also be a mistake. Mers-el-Kebir could not accommodate these additional ships, and this move would only lead to another battle at sea. The only alternative he could think of was to reverse that order, and take his ships to Toulon. Yet he knew if he sat there, sending messages to Nerac, waiting for Le Luc to respond, arguing the matter should his suggestion be rebuffed, the British would draw nearer with each passing minute. He knew what he had to do-order the fleet to action at once! He must present Le Luc with a de facto situation that he knew would be the only solution now.

And this is exactly what he did.