The two men had somehow survived the night by finding enough wreckage to keep themselves out of the water. They were also equipped with some sort of dry suits, a subject on which they would be questioned when they were suitably recovered.
Both were placed in the sick bay, with a fierce looking Leading-Seaman armed with a trusty Webley pistol positioned to act as gaoler.
HMS Loch Tralaig was due back in her temporary patrol base at Gedser two days later, so the Admiralty were informed by radio of the two survivors.
The other items recovered were kept ready to be handed to naval intelligence as soon as HMS Loch Tralaig docked at the small Danish port.
By the time that Commander Taggert had brought his vessel alongside at Gedser, a lot of things had changed.
Naval Intelligence had become aware that the Soviets were trying to contact something called ‘Karusel’, broadcasting on the Baltic Fleet frequencies that had become associated with their submarine units, which analysts considered final confirmation of the identity of their target.
Concern had grown that a Type XXI submarine had been constructed and put to sea without Allied knowledge, which caused a wave of reviews of everything from photoreconnaissance evidence to reports from human resources on the ground.
Of greater concern to the Admiral overseeing operations in the Baltic were the reports of problems amongst the crew of his best ASW platform.
HMS Loch Tralaig docked ahead of schedule and the quay was immediately cordoned off and secured by business-like Royal Marines with orders not to let anyone on the ship, and especially not off the ship.
An initial party of four medical personnel, suitably attired, boarded the frigate and found a medieval scene acted out on every deck.
Even as they walked up the gangplank, a party from Porton Down landed on the Gedser Landevej, the straight road having been closed and isolated by security detachments provided by the Danish Army.
Aboard Loch Tralaig, the dead were already set aside and placed in the meat locker where their temperature was kept low.
Both Russians, the Sub-lieutenant and two of his boat crew, the ship’s surgeon, and one sick bay attendant had joined them only a few hours previously.
The rest of the whaler crew were extremely ill, presenting with a range of symptoms, from sickness and diarrhoea, respiratory problems and vomiting blood; some also presented with black lesions on the skin.
The newly arrived personnel took command, and organised the care of the five men directly affected, although three other members of the crew had reported sick that morning.
It was not until the personnel from Porton Down arrived that suspicions were raised.
One of the men, dispatched on a gut reaction by Admiral Parry, head of Naval Intelligence, understood precisely what he was looking at and HMS Loch Tralaig became a quarantine area.
By the time the information had reached England, another seven men were sick, and one more had joined the men in the freezer.
1122 hrs, Monday, 3rd March 1947, NATO Headquarters, Frankfurt, Germany.
“Good morning, General.”
“Brad, thanks for coming so quickly. You know these gentlemen. Grab a coffee and take a chair.”
Omar Bradley had been in the air before the message came, causing him to divert to Frankfurt and be part of an urgent meeting of NATO top brass.
“OK, Colonel. You may proceed.”
Hood nodded to Eisenhower and, with Anne-Marie Foster’s assistance, outlined the general events in the Baltic over the previous thirty hours.
“Admiral.”
Hood ceded the floor to Rear-Admiral Dalziel, now second in the pecking order at British Naval Intelligence, and the man chosen to impart the bad news.
“Thank you, Colonel. I should hasten to add that the Captain in command of the operation followed the rules of engagement to the letter. It has since been confirmed that this was a Soviet submarine, most probably of the excellent XXI type designed by the Germans in the last show.”
He nodded at von Vietinghoff who remained impassive.
“The frigate vectored in a Coastal Command aircraft, which successfully launched torpedoes that hit and sank the enemy submarine.”
He turned to the map and selected the red marker point.
“Here, some twenty miles due south of Rønne on Bornholm.”
He allowed them a moment to orient themselves before forging ahead.
“Quite correctly, the captain did not immediately search for survivors but swept the locale for signs of any other threats. He subsequently returned some hours later and dropped a small boat to investigate the floating wreckage. Major, if you please.”
Foster illuminated the projector and the small group were shown photographs taken from the whaler, ones that showed the dead as well as the two recovered alive, and a plethora of other items that were fished from the water.
“Both these two survivors subsequently died, which would normally be reasonable to expect, given the fact that they were immersed in icy water and left unrecovered for many hours. Major, thank you.”
Anne-Marie Foster removed the photographs and placed them carefully back in the top-secret folder, extracting the next set, ready for her cue.
“Loch Tralaig continued on her patrol, again quote normal, but reported on a strange illness that affected some of her crew. These were originally, without exception, members of the whale boat crew who had rescued the two Soviet submariners.”
He again turned to the map and drew their attention to Gedser.
“The ship returned to her temporary patrol base earlier than planned as a number of fatalities occurred amongst her crew. These included the ship’s surgeon, his senior rating, a rating assigned as security, and two of the whaleboat crew. Major.”
Foster switched on the projector and some of the assembled senior officers almost recoiled from the graphic images that assailed them.
“On docking, the ship was quarantined immediately, and medical personnel went aboard. They were unable to identify the nature of the affliction. Admiral Parry, given the nature of some of our recent intelligence, took the step of ordering a party from Porton Down to the area, and it was they that identified the disease in questi… sir?”
“Porton Down? Don’t know the place.”
Dalziel did a mental check on the questioner and reasoned he would be cleared for such knowledge.
“General, Porton Down is a British facility that deals with research into counter-measures against special weapons.”
“Special weapons?”
“Such as the Tabun used against us, or the plague the Japanese let loose on the Chinese and your naval facilities.”
“Thanks, Admiral.”
“One of the scientists that went to Gedser had previous experience in one particular field of research, and swiftly identified the nature of the infection.”
He had already decided not to mention the goings-on at Gruinard Island.
‘On going goings-on.’
He laughed to himself at the thought.
“Gentlemen, to date, nine men have died and another five are grievously ill. The cause of death has been identified as Anthrax.”
A number of voices gave vent to a mixture of shock and anger.
“Anthrax?”
“Yes, Anthrax. All the sufferers showed what I am told are classic signs of exposure to the disease. The black lesions and abscesses we saw in the photographs are typical of Anthrax, especially if it has entered the skin through sites where there were already lacerations or scratches. It’s also possible to spread through contact with bodily fluids and possibly from inhaling any fluids produced by a patient coughing.”