Across The Channel at that moment, Obergruppenführer Paul Strasser stood within his own command bunker and stared out through the viewing slots with a restrained but confident smile. There was nothing he could actually see from his position, save for the explosion of British shells about the compound and the decimation of his POW workforce — for which he cared little — but the reports from their Forward Air Controller flying high over the Kent coast with its J-4A fighter escort had verified the destruction of two of the three identified enemy railway guns.
The faint smugness was just a hint of the pleasure and pride he inwardly felt: Reichsmarschall Reuters’ first thought upon hearing of the discovery of the British guns was to immediately call in air strikes, and it was only due to Strasser’s desperate persistence that he’d finally give the green light for Battery 672(E) to deal with the problem directly. He’d known of Reuters’ negative feelings concerning the drain on Wehrmacht resources the two weapons represented from the moment he’d assume command of the unit twelve months before, but Strasser had been determined to prove the man wrong right from the start, and believed his unit was well on the way to a major victory in that regard that afternoon.
Long before the lieutenant-general had appeared on the scene, the pair of ‘superguns’ known by their official Wehrmacht order-of-battle nomenclature as SK-100[E] (and only ever referred to as ‘Gustav’ and ‘Dora’ by everyone else) had been proposed in a design study by the armaments manufacturer Krupp as a weapon capable of defeating the defences of the Maginot Line. Any such weapon would need to be able to penetrate seven metres of reinforced concrete, or up to one metre of hardened armour plate, and Krupp’s had theorised that a super-heavy artillery piece of between 70- to 100cm calibre would be required.
A calibre of 80cm was eventually settled upon, plans were drawn up, and construction of Gustav commenced early in 1936. Kurt Reuters had opposed the concept from the beginning and had consistently lobbied the Führer for the massive resources the weapons design and manufacture was consuming to be directed elsewhere to more useful projects, such as the Kriegsmarine’s accelerated naval building program. In spite of his pleas — or possible to some extent because of them — Adolf Hitler remained unmoved on the matter, and the pair of superguns were completed just prior to the outbreak of war at the end of 1939. The fluid nature or the German Blitzkrieg in Poland and against the Western Allies to that point had been such that there’d been no call for the guns’ use, but in Strasser’s opinion they’d now been given the perfect opportunity to come into their own, and were proving their worth admirably.
It was those thoughts that lingered in his mind as an Abwehr intelligence office attached to the battery staff entered the bunker from one of the main access tunnels at its rear and approached Strasser, a freshly-typed report in one hand.
“Herr Obergruppenführer,” the major began, coming quickly to attention and presenting a ‘Heil Hitler’ salute as Strasser turned to face him. “We have some interesting intelligence reports from a listening post at Wissant…”
“Go on, Herr Major…”
“The unit has identified radio traffic between the British gun crews and their command post. There’s an experienced intelligence officer in charge at Wissant, and he believes a high-ranking British officer is on site at the CP.” He paused for a moment. “The intelligence officer feels there’s a strong likelihood the general present may be Sir John Dill, the Chief-of-General-Staff.” Strasser’s eyes flew wide upon hearing that information.
“He’s certain of this?” His mind was already working over the possibility of staging such a huge military coup as eliminating the highest-ranking army officer of the British Empire.
“Not certain, Mein Herr, but he’s very confident.” The major tilted his head slightly as if conceding a point. “The man is one of our best, sir… I’d be inclined to believe him…”
“Have them work on locating this command post!” Strasser commanded without a moment’s thought. “Work with our spotter aircraft and see what you can find out while we deal with this third gun.” The Abwehr major saluted once more and immediately disappeared back down the same tunnel from whence he’d come, his mission clear and urgent.
Piecemaker was already securing for withdrawal as Gustav’s ranging shot fell substantially long, blasting a huge crater in the Dover Road to the north, near Westcliffe. Smoke and earth from the explosion was hurled skyward as the diesel shunter began to pull away, gun and ammo wagons in tow, and the driver needed no more incentive than that nearby impact to open the throttles wide and accelerate as quickly as the locomotive could manage. The safety of Guston Tunnel was at least five minutes away along the curved branch line, and every man riding that train at that moment recognised how incredibly vulnerable they’d be throughout that short journey.
In command of Piecemaker, and riding in the locomotive with the driver and a radio operator, a hatless Major Sebastian Pruitt hung his body half out of the left side of the cab, ignoring the wind flying past as he kept a keen eye out for further shell strikes or the ever-present added danger of air attack. The radioman beside him had already been advised of the loss of Gladiator, and news had also now come through of the destruction of Sceneshifter. The entire mission was clearly a complete and quite disastrous failure, and the recognition of that fact showed clearly in Pruitt’s grim expression as the train continued to build up speed heading into a long curve around to the south that would take the branch line back toward the East Kent Railway main line and Guston Tunnel.
Piecemaker was now the only remaining target, and as such had now attracted the attention of both German ‘superguns’. Dora’s first shell, with aim adjusted based on Gustav’s ranging shot, landed within a hundred metres of their original position, and it was of small comfort that they’d managed to vacate the area in sufficient time to avoid being completely vaporised: something that would’ve been a certainty had they not withdrawn so quickly. Even so, the shockwave hurtling past them carried enough force to shake the entire train and sting the exposed men on the gun carriage with debris and shrapnel that left some with superficial wounds.
Accurate as they were, the huge artillery pieces were intended for use against static fortifications and had never been expected to engage moving targets. With a rate of fire that at best allowed 10-12 rounds per hour, there was no way either weapon could be expected to land a shell even close to Piecemaker as its towing locomotive hit the junction onto the main East Kent Line at better than forty kilometres per hour and the welcoming northern mouth of Guston Tunnel came into view ahead.
As both guns were now running through differing stages of their respective reloading cycles following the impact of Dora’s last shot, there were several precious minutes for Strasser and Battery 672(E)’s gunlayers to consider the information being relayed to them from their FAC aircraft regarding Piecemaker’s hurried retreat. The speeding shunter with gun in tow was just a minute or two away from entering the tunnel and relative safety, although the train would need to slow down somewhat to have a chance of coming to a halt while still within its cover.