“I know what Commodore Berenger is thinking. Our squadron has three different speeds. La Motte-Picquet can do more than 30 knots, Tahure and Marne twenty; we are limited to 16. Splitting us up into three groups means that each group can maneuver at maximum speed.” de Quieverecourt sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. “And we all have different guns. 155mm on the La Motte-Picquet; we have 140mms and the others mostly 100mms. Operating separately will ease our fire control problems.”
And I know what Commodore Berenger is thinking as well, Babineau thought. He can take his cruiser in fast, open fire first and claim the credit for any victories. But, if it goes wrong, he will have us coming up behind to bail him out. But to voice such ideas would be insubordinate, at best. Babineau saw his captain looking at him and realized that de Quieverecourt knew exactly what he had been thinking. “Should we come to action stations, sir? We are approaching the anchorage and dawn is not far off.”
de Quieverecourt shook himself. “Yes, do so.”
Tahure and Marne had already sheered away, heading for the channel that led into the anchorage from the north. Then, La Motte-Picquet started to surge forward and peel away to starboard. That left Dumont d’Urville and Amiral Charner heading directly into the anchorage. Babineau looked over to the east. He saw the first faint hint of purple that spoke of a dawn yet to come. In the minor degree of extra light it provided, he saw two shapes close to the island of Koh Krabung. He managed to make out the distinguishing feature of their design, the large single funnel amidships.
“Captain, two torpedo boats. Close by Nagam Island.”
“I see them, Laurent. Bring the ship around to oh-nine-oh. Prepare to open fire on them as soon as we are clear of the Laoya islands in the middle of the anchorage. And order Amiral Charner to take its lead from us.”
Dumont d’Urville was now parallelling the course of La Motte-Picquet but falling steadily behind the cruiser. Looking at the charts, Babineau realized that Berenger, on board La Motte-Picquet, couldn’t see the torpedo boats, since they were screened by Koh Wai Island. “Captain, we have a clear line of fire now. I believe the Thais are trying to raise steam over there.”
Babineau took another look. In the dim pre-dawn light, the threads of smoke from the two torpedo boats were only just dimly visible. Certainly, the two ships weren’t moving. The three 140mm guns on Dumont d’Urville crashed out, sending the first shells of the battle towards the two Thai ships. It was a ranging salvo; three shots spaced out to straddle the targets. Actually, all three fell short. The next salvo was over. It was only the third that actually achieved the desired straddle.
The forward 3-inch gun on one torpedo boat opened fire. Babineau guessed that it was aiming at the gun flashe,s but the shots weren’t even close.
The next salvo from Dumont d’Urville fell all around the torpedo boat. They must be taking splinter damage at the very least. The 140mm guns fired again.
This time the target reeled from the impact of a direct hit. The orange glow of a major fire started to spread from her midship section.
“Why the devil isn’t Amiral Charner firing?” Captain de Quieverecourt was furious. The French force had achieved complete surprise, yet his was the only ship firing on what appeared to be a defenseless enemy.
“Laurent, contact her and order her to open fire on those torpedo boats.”
Babineau grabbed a signal lamp and sent out the message as ordered. While he did so, the Thai torpedo boat had been hit twice more. She was clearly sinking. Her companion was starting to move very slowly, but she was firing her trio of three-inch guns. Where the shots were going was another matter. Certainly it was nowhere close to Dumont d’Urville. The signal lamp on Amiral Charner started to wink. Babineau took down the message. Its content actually made his jaw drop with shock.
“Sir, with respect, the message from Amiral Charner says that Commodore Berenger did not place you in command of this division so, therefore, Amiral Charner will dictate her own movements in compliance with the Commodore’s orders.”
Babineau shook his head. It seemed incredible, but the Captain of Amiral Charner was actually correct. Commodore Berenger had divided his squadron into three divisions but not appointed anybody to command those divisions. Correct that may be, but it would take a mind of incredible pettiness to make an issue of such things in the middle of a battle. Babineau’s thoughts were interrupted by more cheering from the bridge. The gun crews on Dumont d’Urville were into their stride; the guns fired with a rapidity they had rarely achieved before. The second Thai torpedo boat was already hit and her return fire was faltering. That was when a broadside of 155mm shells from La Motte-Picquet blanketed the position of the first torpedo boat to be taken under fire.
If she wasn’t sinking already, she certainly is now. Babineau actually felt sorry for the poor ship. She was hopelessly outmatched by the cruiser and sloops that were pounding her and didn’t even have the steam raised to make a run for it. She was rolling over already and was finished. A sad way for a ship to die. At least she got a shot off to save her honor. The other torpedo boat was in no better condition; her death was made certain when the La Motte-Picquet switched fire on to her.
“Bring us around to oh-oh-five.” de Quieverecourt snapped the order out. He hoped that Amiral Charner would follow the maneuver, since there was a limb of the anchorage ahead and there might be game there.
“Captain, Amiral Charner reports we are under attack by a third torpedo boat approaching from the north. It has a merchant ship following it.”
“What?” de Quieverecourt frowned. “A merchant ship?”
Any additional questions he might have had were broken by the firing of Amiral Charner’s guns as she engaged the new targets. Babineau looked across to where the shells were directed. The ships were hard to see in the gloom and shadows of the nearby land, but he caught a glimpse of the targets in the light of the shells exploding. Two funnels amidships. Suddenly, he realized what was happening. He snapped out a signal to the other sloop.
“Cease firing, those ships are the Marne and Tahure!”
To Babineau’s sickened dismay, Amiral Charner continued firing. Marne’s silhouette was disfigured by the red flare of a hit and the orange glow of fire. That made the identity of the ship painfully obvious. Mercifully, Amiral Charner ceased fire.
“Get under way now.”
Commander Luang Phrom Viraphan snarled the order out. Thonburi was the only diesel-engined ship in the fleet. That meant she was the only one that could move right away. The attack had come a vital few minutes earlier than he had expected. Another quarter of an hour, 30 minutes at most, the four torpedo boats would have raised steam. Faced with them, the French squadron would have been in an invidious position. But he’d never had those few minutes.