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The old battlecruiser Hindenburg was dragged from her grave by using a 40,000 ton floating dock, also surrendered by Germany after the war. Her tall mast and stacks soon reappeared, and the sallow grey of her a barnacle infested superstructure rose up out of the Flow. Yet it was not a resurrection, just the final throes of her death that now awaited. Eventually the whole of the ship, and many others, were raised and dragged off for scrapping at Rosythe, with some of the steel even resold to the Royal Navy again for use in their own building programs. It was a last bitter and ironic twist of fate for the once proud German High Seas Fleet.
* * *
Long years passed before the name Hindenburg was again on the lips of men eager for the sea. Admiral Raeder had been diligent and resourceful in his charge. He had fought stubbornly to secure the necessary materials and particularly the steel required to rebuild the new Reichsmarine. In doing so he had often jousted with Goering, commander of the Luftwaffe, who had equal designs on building the air force for the war that was soon to come.
Raeder’s greatest fears had been realized when Germany invaded Poland just a few years after his fateful meeting with Hitler. He had asked for six years, but the work on many of the ships he had promised was far more advanced than he let on in that January session of 1936. The first two ships worthy of the name battleship had already been completed by late 1940. Bismarck and Tirpitz were fitted out and had finished sea trials that very year. He had worked tirelessly to make sure they would both be commissioned together, sailed together at trials, and be ready for joint action as a formidable heavy unit, the first real menace ready for action at sea in the war that was slowly heating up to the low boil.
Poland had fallen in 30 days in September of 1939. Then came the long “phony war,” a blessed interval of five to seven months until May of 1940 when the German Army again surged across their borders in an operation much like that of the old Von Schlieffen Plan from the Great War. This time there were no trenches, and barbed wire, nor the nightmare pounding of artillery and gas. This time it was lightning quick advances by Guderian’s armor, a real Blitzkrieg that had shocked and defeated the Anglo French and allied forces with equal ease.
France was overrun as easily as Poland, and soon the German army was securing vital ports on the coast of the Atlantic. Raeder was eager to put them to good use! Up until that time, the war at sea had been nothing more than intermittent raiding sorties by the impudent Deutschland Class “Pocket Battleships,” three in all, the Deutschland, Graff Spee, and Admiral Scheer. Joining the fleet in 1936, they were not really worthy of the name battleship, being nothing more than well armed heavy cruisers. They displaced only 16,000 tons and carried only six 11-inch guns, heavier in caliber than most other heavy cruisers, but far less firepower and armor than any real battleship in the Royal Navy.
That said, they had nonetheless managed to raise hell in the Atlantic, though Graff Spee had been finally holed up in an Argentinean port and scuttled when cornered by a squadron of British cruisers. She had given a good account of herself, using both guns and guile to confound the enemy while she steamed over 30,000 miles, sinking one merchant ship after another. At one point she had even erected a false turret and second wooden smoke stack to alter her profile and fool pursuing vessels. She clawed the enemy in battle, damaging several British cruisers, herding the captured sea masters and captains of the merchantmen she sunk into her storerooms, but could not escape unscathed, finally putting in to Montevideo for repairs. Unable to complete them in a timely manner, she sailed out to scuttle herself instead when faced with a superior battle fleet.
The sortie had thrilled the German people, and the professional officers of the newly named Kreigsmarine, but the ship’s fate being scuttled in the face of the enemy had a sour, hollow ring. The purgatory of Scapa Flow, and the demise of the High Seas Fleet there, were still bitter memories. The incident was a reflection of that event, as well as a harbinger of what might come. The picture painted of German fighting ships being scuttled under the eyes of their British masters rankled, and Raeder gave orders that no ship of the German Navy would ever again be scuttled until she had fought to the last gun. Then he continued forging those guns with great fervor, intent on filling out as many of the ships he had promised the Fuehrer as possible, and building a fleet that could be of some real use in the war.
For now however he did not put his real battleships in the shop window, unwilling to commit his heavier vessels to any significant action at sea. Instead he contented himself with jabbing raids by these lighter pocket battleships in early 1940, keeping the Royal Navy off balance as much as possible, testing their reactions and tactics at sea.
Admiral Sheer, had an equally brilliant sortie, lancing deep into the Atlantic and even into the Indian Ocean, and sinking well over 115,000 tons of enemy shipping, the best record of any ship to date. Then he had put his newer battlecruisers to the test with mixed results. The made a credible showing in the Norwegian Sea, but had no real laurels to claim. On one occasion they had brushed up against HMS Renown, and broke off without much of a fight. That said, Scharnhorst and Gneisenau had effectively supported Germany’s occupation of Norway, which provided valuable ports on the Norwegian Sea and better access to the Atlantic.
As a young staff officer to the famous Admiral Hipper, Raeder had been exposed to Hipper’s novel plans for dramatic commerce warfare in the Atlantic involving major elements of the German fleet. We cannot stand toe to toe with the Royal Navy, thought Raeder. No, we will have to dance and jab, yet we can still punch hard now that Bismarck and Tirpitz are ready. It might be better to wait for Hindenburg as well, but we have the power to act now if we choose…If I choose.
He was planning a new operation, much bigger than anything that came before. Admiral Lütjens was eager to get sea. He could send him out with Scharnhorst and Gneisenau, or he could send Hoffmann and give Lütjens something even bigger. If Hoffmann could punch through the British screen near Iceland, and get into the Atlantic to threaten the convoys, it would certainly draw off Royal Navy assets. He would give him orders to sink what he could, and then take his raiders to the French Port of Brest if the army was wise enough to quickly seize the dockyards there. Would the port be ready and waiting to harbor the tired German raiders when they came running home from the hotly contested campaigns in the Atlantic?
I can set those two two panthers on the prowl, he thought, and then surprise the British with another pair of tigers. Bismarck and Tirpitz were fueling and taking on ammunition for their first joint sortie into the fray. The British will not expect much for the rest of this year, which is why we will surprise them. Soon they will be obsessed with trying to neutralize the French Fleet! They will be greedy to get their hands on those ships, and keep them from our grasp. Well, I do not need the French fleet. I could not provision the ships, nor could I fuel them, and I certainly would not give them to the Italians! Perhaps we might pick the carcass and find a few ships we can put to use. For the moment, however, the French provide a nice additional distraction for the British.
Scharnhorst and Gneisenau are out harassing the British evacuation from Norway. I will send those panthers out again, only this time for a run to the Atlantic. With any luck the tigers will find them at sea when they break out, and then let the British try to deal with four raiders of considerable power in the Atlantic at one time.
Yet the best was still ahead, he thought. The real dreadnaughts of the fleet were almost ready to take their place on the board. The battlecruisers were merely knights, posted now to key squares in the opening of the chess game he was playing. Bismarck and Tirpitz were strong rooks finally ready to strike along an open file into the Atlantic, but soon the queen would make her appearance. The first ship in the long promised H class had already been fitted out and was running in secret night action trials in the Baltic.
Rumors of this fearsome vessel had undoubtedly reached the British Admiralty. They had tried, unsuccessfully, to get good aerial photog
raphs of her. Raeder smiled to think that they would soon have more than enough time to study her powerful lines and awesome guns. The Hindenburg had been raised up yet again, not the old battlecruiser whose bones were picked over by a profit seeking British entrepreneur. No, this was an entirely new ship, over two hundred feet longer and twice as heavy as her old WWI namesake.
He still remembered the smile in Hitler’s eyes when he attended he launching ceremony. She was an awesome ship when finally completed, measuring over 900 feet in length, with a beam of 128 feet making her the widest ship in that category and providing her with exceptional stability at sea. Raeder’s fighting falcon, Admiral Fuchs had finally won Hitler’s grudging approval for the installation of 16 inch gun turrets, four in all, and then only by demonstrating that anything bigger would delay the construction of the ship for at least two more years. Hindenburg’s guns could be the equal of anything in the Royal Navy, today, he argued, or they could wait another few years to field something stronger.
Raeder was pleased with the outcome, believing anything larger than the massive 16 inch batteries was nothing more than a wasteful addition of excess weight. In his last meeting with Hitler on the matter, the Admiral had seconded Fuchs’ argument, and reminded Hitler that he should be mindful of the fact that these were German 16 inch guns, not the pop guns the British were putting on their newest ships, the 14 inch guns of the KGV class battleships.
And better yet, the ship was actually completed! She was ready to put to sea in a matter of days to begin her trials in the Baltic, and she would not be alone. A second massive ship in the H class was already well advanced on the shipyard building program, the Oldenburg. She would not be ready for some months yet, as the foundries were still spinning out her massive 16 inch gun barrels, but she would have more than enough company when she finally did join the fleet, and Hindenburg would not be alone when she sailed. I will soon have two more lions in waiting, he thought.
Raeder had also resurrected one of the O-Class battlecruiser designs from Plan Z. Originally intended to replace the Deutschland class raiders that had been so successful. They were moved forward in production when Graf Spee and Admiral Sheer had demonstrated what a smaller ship could do, even when alone at sea, if she was given the right, combination of speed firepower and armor. The designers were keen create an up-gunned version of the Deutschland series, faster and more powerful. Where Graf Spee had carried six 11 inch guns at 28 knots, the sleek new O-Class battlecruiser, named Kaiser, would carry six 15 inch guns, two each in three of the very same turrets that had been mounted on the Bismarck, and the Kaiser was the fastest capital ship in the fleet, capable of 36 knots in early trials with her new hybrid steam and diesel engines. She was given only 190 millimeters of belt armor to achieve that speed, enough to counter the heaviest armed 8 inch gun cruisers of the Royal Navy, and she would be faster than anything carrying bigger guns.
Beyond this, a pair of fast new Panzerschiff armored cruisers would be ready to steam with her as well, bearing proud names of German provincial regions: Rhineland, and Westfalen. These were basically re-workings of the Deutschland class, with the same 11 inch quick firing guns in two turrets of three guns each. They would be faster at 33 knots, and protected with armor to 120 millimeters. While twelve were planned, only two had been completed, and other ship designs had caused all subsequent ships in the class to be cancelled.
Along with these the aircraft carrier Graf Zeppelin was also fitted out and ready for operations, the brainchild of naval architect Wilhelm Hadeler. It would carry modified versions of BF-109Es and Stuka dive bombers as the primary armament, 38 fighting planes in all, with a detachment of 4 Arado 196 seaplanes as well. Raeder had also worked hard to build the Seydiltz, renamed Peter Strasser when commissioned, and that ship would be ready soon too. These additions, combined with the fleet’s best new radar, made the carriers excellent scouting ships. Steaming as part of a task force, they would provide added anti-aircraft defense and extended air search capability to the fleet, not to mention the considerable striking power of their Stuka dive bombers.
Raeder had promised the Fuehrer six new battleships before the war had started, a fantasy in the time allotted. He knew as much even as he flipped through the various designs back in January of 1936, but instead he had delivered six exceptional new designs that strongly augmented the power of the Kriegsmarine, making it a fleet at last worthy of the name. It might not be able to deliver the dream of Admiral Tirpitz when he advocated a world navy, or Weltmachtflotte, but it would be enough to pose a credible challenge to the one navy which could claim that title, the Royal Navy of Great Britain.
Together these ships were all the Admiral could muster in the time he had been given, and even completing this much had put a great strain on the nation’s resources. The Oldenburg would be the last that would come out of the German shipyards for some time, though the keel and hull was complete for Brandenburg, the third H class battleship in the series.
Taken as a whole, he now had another mailed fist to bring to the fight with the Royal Navy, fast, powerful new ships that Germany would not have available if he had not been so diligent, or had the favor of a Fuehrer intent upon building a credible navy. The speed of his ships relative to the bulk of the Royal Navy heavy capital ship classes was a decided advantage, and he also had tremendous operational range. The only problem would be finding the oil to keep the fleet in service.
On paper at least, Admiral Raeder’s fleet looked much more promising. It wasn’t the massive heavy fleet the Fuehrer wanted in the end, but it was twice as strong as it might have otherwise been, and would be further augmented by a large fleet of U-boats as soon as production ramped up. Now, he thought, we will put this navy to the test and see what we can do. God help any ship that comes under our guns…help them to the deepest regions of hell!
In due course I will add the Oldenburg and Brandenburg to that list, thought Raeder, but now he contemplated what he hoped would be the greatest naval operation of the entire war. Its aims were far grander than anything the old fleet had ever attempted, its most notable operation being the support rendered to the invasion of Norway. That accomplished, the Germans now planned a real offensive operation aimed at the convoy lifeline that sustained the British war effort.
We will take them by the throat this time, he thought. Four big ships at once, and Graf Zeppelin along with them!
Chapter 11
June, 12, 1940 ~ CiC, Home Fleet, Scapa Flow
They were called mystery ships, decoy ships, or simply Q-boats, armed merchantmen disguised as humble tramp steamers or cargo vessels and intended to lure in unsuspecting German U-boats. If they sighted a periscope the crews were trained to stage a “panic party” on deck, running this way and that so as to entice the U-boat to surface and use its deck gun as opposed to the limited and more expensive torpedo in an attack. Then, when the enemy was up and out manning its gun, the Q-ship would raise its skirts and reveal a row of three pounders, all ready to blast the submarine to pieces.
That morning the mystery on Admiral Tovey’s desk was the strange report from Q-ship Prunella concerning an unidentified ship that had set off a bit of a panic party at the Admiralty right in the middle of Operation Juno, the evacuation of Norway. It had come on the heels of another warning from Convoy HX-49 out of Halifax about a large warship sighted off Cape Farewell. It seems the navy was seeing ghosts and mystery ships everywhere.
Tovey shook his head, bothered as he read that no further sighting could substantiate the report from Prunella, though it had caused quite a row and sent off the battlecruisers Renown and Repulse, with two cruisers and five destroyers on a wild goose chase to look for these ships. RAF reconnaissance later verified that the Twins were still at Trondheim, so it was all for naught.
That left the evacuation convoys dangerously exposed, and was, in part, one reason why the Germans very nearly sunk their teeth into HMS Glorious. There had been only two destroyers available to escort her home,
and only one came back. In fact they did take a good bite out of Glorious, hitting the ship twice and killing most of the bridge crew. Were it not for the actions of a junior officer, who arrived on the bridge at a crucial moment and took command, the carrier would certainly have been lost.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, chasing a headache as the memory of a similar incident in his own career returned to him. Then he was a young Lieutenant, newly arrived at the British China Station in the Pacific at Weihaiwei and lucky to be posted to the squadron flagship, HMS King Alfred. He remembered it now, a distant look in his eyes. There had been another panic party underway in the Tsushima Strait, and another mystery ship as well. A Russian dreadnaught had been raiding Japanese shipping and threatened to impose a naval quarantine on the whole region, which was preposterous in itself, as a single ship could not hope to live up to such a boast.
Yet this ship was a real mystery indeed. It fought and won several engagements with elements of the Imperial Japanese Fleet, the very same fleet that had so devastated the whole Russian navy just a few years earlier in the famous battle of Tsushima Straits. And then it bore relentlessly down on the narrow channel there where Admiral Togo had sortied again with the Japanese Fleet to intercept the rogue. There was another battle there, he thought, still shivering inwardly as he remembered the distant shadow of the Russian ship, enormous and threatening on the sea ahead as it rounded the headlands of several small islets south of Iki Island.
King Alfred was leading in the entire squadron of six cruisers to support the Japanese, the Captain and First Officer out on the weather bridge. Tovey had been with them there, but was sent in by the Captain to make a course correction. That order had saved his life, for just seconds after he left the weather bridge where he had been posted as First Officer of the Watch, a shell from the Russian ship struck there and killed both the Captain and First Officer. King Alfred was at the edge of battle, leaderless, and Tovey took command.