“That’s a short deck down there, so be careful,” Ritter called. “Now you know why I was drilling you on landings all last week. Make sure you don’t miss your hook up!”
The Goeben had been east of the main group, and much farther ahead, keeping a watchful eye on the Iceland passage in case there were any nosy British cruisers about. It was the only ship of its type built, out to sea for the first time after an extensive training run in the Baltic. Its four 11-inch guns would make it a match for most any 8-inch gun cruiser it encountered, but it also had tremendous speed on its long cruiser hull, and could work up to 36 knots to run from any ship it could not safely engage.
Designed as a scout ship, the Goeben had Germany’s latest naval radar on her mainmast, and its nine BF-109T fighters would provide a strong fighter shield over the battlegroup. The three Stukas would give the ship just a little more sting, one flown by Ritter’s newest recruit, Hans Rudel. The ship was already well south of the Faeroes, out in the vanguard to trailblaze the way for the battleships.
Rudel was on the flight deck when the last of Ritter’s three planes landed. “Good job in rough seas like this,” he said, congratulating Ritter as he jumped down from his cockpit.
“I’ve practiced that twenty times,” said Ritter. “Just as I made you do the same last week! Everyone wanted to know why they had to train for landing with a short hookup cable. Now you know.”
“I was not aware we even had this ship!” Rudel was elated to be among the elite team of pilots chosen for this mission.
“That’s because it was kept secret, Rudel, and listed as a seaplane tender. They had the ship in an enclosed berthing at Kiel, and even its trial runs in the Baltic were kept a secret. I was only told about it last month.”
“How do you hide a ship like this, Marco?”
“Ask the Russians how they hid that rocket cruiser of theirs, eh? Well, we have a few tricks up our sleeve too. Right about now the big ships will be pounding the British on the Faeroes. In thirty minutes we go up again, this time to look for the convoys. You’ll get all the fun, Rudel. I’ll have to be up there on overwatch again.”
“Good to know you’ll be there, Oberleutnant!
It was only Commodore Ritchie’s sad fate that his convoy, HX-69, was in the wrong place at the wrong time when Rudel and the other two Ju-87 Stukas came calling. Ritchie was on the weather deck of Ulysses with his field glasses supervising the detachment of all ships bound for Methil. They would have to go up and over Dunnet head on the north cape of Scotland, and were among the first detachments after receiving orders to scatter the convoy a day early.
He heard the planes before he saw them, craning his neck up to scour the grey clouds. Then the sound of the engines increased, gathering strength and power, and he heard a chilling wail when he saw the first plane diving out of a cloud bank like a falcon. It was Hans Rudel, leading in his birds of prey, and he bored right in on the number three ship in the first line, Voco, a small 8600 ton tanker carrying lubricating oil. True to form, he put his 500 pound bomb right on the target, blasting right through the deck and igniting the volatile cargo below in the holds with a broiling explosion.
Kelbergen, the number one ship in the second steaming row was the next to be hit by Rudel’s wing mate, a Dutch freighter carrying steel scrap. The 500 pound bomb missed and straddled the ship, but the pilot had also dropped the two smaller 100 pound wing mounted bombs, and one struck home to start a fire on the aft section near the main cargo access. The third Stuka straddled the Lylepark with its 500 pound bomb, and the hit was close enough to hole the hull.
“Where in blazes did they come from?” Richie kept looking nervously about, dreading more planes falling from the sky, but none came. If Graf Zeppelin had been ordered in, the heavier strike wing aboard would have had a real feast here, but in Ritchie’s mind the damage to Voco was bad enough.
“Send to R.A.F. Stornoway,” he said to his First Watch Officer. “Tell them we bloody well need fighter cover out here. Jerry has pulled a rabbit out of his hat. Those were Stukas!”
R.A.F. Stornoway got the plaintive call, but they had little more than a few Avro Anson bombers at hand to do anything about it. The base was still under construction, being built on a former golf course in the windy northern Isle of Lewis off the coast of Scotland. There were also 12 Fairy Albacore bi-plane torpedo bombers stationed there in 827 Squadron, but neither plane was likely to be sent to mix it up with German fighters or Stukas.
The storm crows were just the heralds of more trouble to come. An hour later Ritchie heard a strident call from the forward watch. A ship had been sighted on the horizon, and now he was staring through his field glasses at what was obviously the rising silhouette of a warship. His one hope was that it was a Royal Navy battleship sent to bolster their escort. What else would be at large on these waters? HMS Arrow, out in front, was sent to see about it, advancing at high speed and signaling by lantern.
What they got back was the bright roar of distant guns, and the unwelcome plumes of heavy shells, two big rounds falling into the sea ahead of the destroyer. The battleship Hindenburg had just fired its first shots in anger.
“Signal all ships, emergency turn! Thirty points to starboard!”
The signal flags went up, followed by a frantic message from the W/T room: HX-69 under attack by German dive bombers and large enemy warship. It would soon have to be amended. There was more than one wolf in the pack that had found his sheep. Krutschmer’s U-99 had signaled the position of the convoy, and the information was quickly passed on to Lutjens.
Now the hunt began.
HMS Winchelsea was the first ship to be hit. The old Admiralty W Class destroyer had been laid down in 1917, and had little more than four QF 4.7-inch guns to challenge the oncoming enemy. But it did have speed at 34 knots. The ship had done little in the war thus far, except to pick up stranded sailors sunk by German U boats in the Western Approaches. Now it faced a real minute of horror as it realized the size and nature of the enemy threat. Hindenburg turned its extensive secondary batteries loose on the British, and the destroyer was soon hit and burning from three 5.9-inch guns. Winchelsea thought it might get close enough to get a few of its 21 inch torpedoes in the water, but that was not to be. The destroyer was suddenly struck by a bigger round, and not from one of the battleships.
A sleek, dark ship came surging ahead of the main German force, its battle ensign snapping stiffly in the breeze as it took the lead position in the formation. It moved so quickly that the British thought it was a fast light cruiser, but it was something quite more, the new German battlecruiser Kaiser. At 35,400 tons, it was as heavy as a Revenge Class British Battleship, yet could work up to the amazing speed of 36 knots. Designed like a pocket battleship, it had two twin-gun turrets forward and a third aft. Originally meant to be an improved Deutschland Class ship, it was supposed to get the same 11-inch guns, but soon evolved into something better when Raeder proposed they use the same turrets that had been designed for Bismarck, with a total of six 15-inch guns assigned to the ship.
Raeder had originally planned to build twelve Panzerschiffe, each with 11-inch guns, but the larger weapons simply proved to be much more effective, and the shipyards could not build out the whole Kreutzer program. Only two had been built, Rhineland and Westfalen, and they were now escorting Graf Zeppelin home. But Kaiser had been born of the same litter, bigger, faster, more powerful, and it was the ship that broke the back of HMS Winchelsea with one smashing 15-inch round.