Prior British responses to the appearance of long-range gun emplacements on the French Coast had generally been in the form of retaliatory bombardment from similar guns — something which it had to be admitted had so far been relatively effective. With the RAF all but non-existent now as a fighting force in the skies above the Home Counties, it was also highly unlikely the enemy would be able to muster enough bombers or fighters to instead launch a concerted air assault. As a return to their ‘tried and true’ alternative of counter-battery fire from railway guns seemed the most likely of any option for a British response, a round-the-clock aerial surveillance of the English coast was put into place.
The Abwehr had already identified many of the more the likely firing sites along the railways close to the Kent coastline, and the watch had been set. The height of the Dover cliffs opposing them meant great swathes of land beyond weren’t visible to observation from land, necessitating the aerial alternative. Even as the men of the Royal Marine Siege Regiment were preparing their guns, unseen eyes flying high above the French beaches had quickly spotted and identified Gladiator and reported its exact position to the battery HQ at Sangatte.
Neither Whittaker nor the rest of the work crews had the slightest inkling that anything serious was about to happen. The sounds of alert klaxons and the movement of propellant charges and those monstrous shells to the gun line from their underground magazines seemed the same as any of the drills they’d already seen that morning, although Dupont at least did note that each gun seemed to have a greater number of projectiles stockpiled behind the mount than had been normal in previous exercises.
The first suggestion of imminent danger came as several, Dupont included, noticed that in this particular ‘drill’ the crews were actually going as far as loading a shell into each gun’s massive breech. Even with the assistance of some very advanced Krupp loading equipment — designed in part by Reuter’s technical departments — it took the guns a full five minutes to lift and chamber their four-metre-long shells, each slowly rammed by heavy hydraulics into their cavernous breeches ahead of the huge brass case carrying its propellant charges.
A large concrete command bunker was positioned toward the western perimeter of the complex between the two weapons, set a good distance in front of both. Mostly underground, only a small, domed control room showed above the surface of the newly worked earth, and from its observation slots, Obergruppenführer Paul Strasser looked on expectantly.
The guns emplaced there were classed as ‘strategic’ weapons, and as such Special Heavy Battery 672(E) answered directly to Reichsmarschall Reuters himself, although technically as a Waffen-SS unit it was ultimately under the command of Reichsführer-SS Heinrich Himmler. Strasser was in contact with Reuters at that moment, speaking to the OdW at his Amiens HQ via secure landline.
“The weapons are loaded and prepared for firing, Herr Reichsmarschall. Our observers estimate we have no more than five or ten minutes at most before the enemy fires upon us. All that’s required is for you to give the word…”
Standing at the desk in the large briefing room, Schiller and Müller beside him, Reuters took a few moments to think long and hard about his decision. Covering the mouthpiece of the phone, he lowered it from his ear and stared around at his colleagues.
“Your thoughts, gentlemen…?”
“You know my mind, Kurt,” Schiller replied instantly with a thin smile. “I’m just sorry I’m not actually there to see the bloody things go off!”
“Joachim?”
“You’ve never wanted those damned things right from the start, Kurt… you fought the Führer tooth-and-nail to divert those resources to something far more useful.” Müller remembered all too well, as did Reuters, the confrontation his opposition to the guns’ construction had produced with Hitler himself.
“Enough steel in each of them to build a U-boat… at least,” Reuters nodded with a rueful smile. “That was one fight I definitely lost to the Führer,” He shrugged. “Nevertheless, the weapons are here now, whether I like it or not, and I suspect it’d be a far greater waste of those vital resources if they’re not utilised at all.”
“If we use them now, we reveal that part of our invasion plan to the British ahead of time,” Schiller observed, thinking quickly, “but that’s about the only disadvantage I can think of to giving the order.” It was his turn to give a matter-of-fact shrug. “On the other hand, there’d be the advantage of allowing us to perform a live-fire trial ahead of time and iron out any bugs or faults that might appear.” An evil smile spread across his face “It’d undoubtedly scare the living Christ out of the local population into he bargain. Any associated mass panic could trigger an exodus that’d further overload their military’s logistic networks throughout the Home Counties, and that can’t be a bad thing.”
“There’s an excellent chance this facility might be considered dangerous enough to bring the aircraft of Hindsight against it,” Müller mused softly.
“I’d considered that also,” Reuters nodded slowly, “and I’m not certain that would be a bad thing either. Even their jets would be hard pressed to get in and out of a low-level strike in one piece with the masses of flak we have there, and this might just be the bait we need to lure them down.” He turned his gaze back to Schiller. “Albert, please have our remaining Flankers on alert and ready for take off: we may need them.”
Lifting the phone back to his ear, Reuters took another moment to take a deep breath before continuing. It was true he’d never wanted the massive guns built in the first place and considered them a terrible waste of resources, but even then, his pragmatic nature had meant that the moment he’d realised the Führer wouldn’t back down on their construction, Reuters was determined to demand modifications that would drastically improved their usefulness on the battlefield.
The most significant change was to the design of the loading equipment the guns used, increasing each weapon’s nominal rate of fire from no more than two rounds per hour to perhaps one ever five minutes: a rate that was still quite low but was nevertheless enough of an improvement to actually make the weapons potentially useful in a tactical as well as strategic sense. Another was the insistence that they be installed in fixed mountings on the coast rather than be left as railway guns as per their original design. They could still be used in that role if necessary, but their fixed positions overlooking The Channel in this case meant a significant increase in accuracy and also assisted the new loading system in achieving its higher rate of fire.
“Herr Obergruppenführer,” Reuters finally spoke after releasing a held breath. “’Gustav’ and ‘Dora’ are ‘weapons free’… you have permission to fire. Eliminate all opposition and conduct further registration bombardments if required.”
“Very good, Herr Reichsmarschall,” the voice at the other end replied instantly with obvious eagerness. “Orders received and understood.”