The tactical situation was changing as well. Up to now, the French cruiser had been out of the fight, masked behind Koh Mai Si Yai and Koh Mai Si Lek. Now she was emerging from their shadow and was threatening to make an end-run past the Thonburi. Capable of more than 30 knots, the cruiser could do that and there would be little Thonburi could do to stop her, unless she was physically in the way. Luang Phrom saw the ripple of flashes along the cruiser and heard the howl of the inbound shells. Fortunately, they were well off-target.
“Shift target to that cruiser.”
“She’s La Motte-Picquet. I saw her on a trip to Saigon not so long ago.” Lieutenant Sunan Shinawatra looked at his Captain and smiled. “I was on a Dutch liner, travelling for my family’s silk business. Met an American called Jim Thompson. Oddly, I just happened to have a very good camera with me when we passed the French warships.” His reminiscence was interrupted by another broadside from the cruiser. This one was closer but it was still far enough away. In reply, Thonburi’s 200mm guns sent a full broadside at the cruiser. The four splashes were all around her but there was no sign of a hit.
“We need more guns. Our salvoes aren’t dense enough to give a good number of hits.”
“The new cruisers will have six guns.”
Luang Phrom knew that was irrelevant. What mattered were the forces here and now. Where are those dive bombers? We need the support here.
“Lieutenant, go aft to the secondary control position. If anything happens to the bridge, you will take over the ship from there. Your orders in that event are simple. Keep fighting until the French retreat or the ship sinks under you.”
A third salvo from the French cruiser was also wild. In reply, Thonburi once again straddled her without scoring any hits. He next French salvo was different. It was on target. The eight shells were close enough to the gunboat to rattle her sides with splinters. La Motte-Picquet paid a price for her accuracy though.
Thonburi straddled her once again. This time, there was a brilliant red flash between the funnels. Luang Phrom heard the cheer go up from his ship at the long-delayed success. He saw La Motte-Picquet reverse course and return behind the shelter of Koh Mai Si Lek. The threat of an end-run was past, for the moment.
“Reverse course; head back for Koh Krabung. Let us see what our guests in their sloops are up to.”
“What the devil is Berenger up to?” Babineau let the words slip out with much more force than he intended or was prudent.
“He is concentrating his force, I think. Perhaps he realizes that dispersing us all over the anchorage may not have been the best of policies. His orders are for us to circle Baidang Island until he joins us. Then his intentions are for us to assault as a group and force our way past that gunboat.”
This is what we should have been doing an hour ago, de Quieverecourt thought, instead of wasting time messing around. We should have been in the anchorage by now, shooting up everything that floats. One look at the charts shows there is only one way in for ships that draw as much water as we do and that damned gunboat is blocking it.
“She’s hit!” Babineau’s report was a gasp of dismay. “She’s taken a hit amidships.”
Every pair of binoculars on the bridge swung to look at La Motte-Picquet. The cloud of smoke amidships was apparent, but there was no red glare of fire and she didn’t seem to be slowing. “Captain, a report from the flagship. She took a hit amidships that has penetrated the armor but damage is not serious. Commodore Berenger’s compliments and the four sloops are to join him at Baidang Island for an assault on the main anchorage.”
“Assuming the dive bombers don’t get here first.” de Quieverecourt muttered the words to himself, but he saw Babineau nodding. The threat of the Thai dive bombers was on both officer’s minds.
The minutes ticked by as La Motte-Picquet closed on the four sloops that had rounded Baidang Island and were now heading west. Eventually she drew level with them and rounded the island again; the sloops fell in behind her. At that point, the Thai gunboat reappeared from behind Mai Si Yai Island.
Her guns flashed again. The salvo of four shells landed all around the La Motte-Picquet. The cruiser picked up speed, heading east and leaving the slow sloops behind.
“Message from the flagship, sir. It says the Siamese are trying to escape via this channel and we are to remain here to block them. The flagship will go into the main anchorage by the eastern channel.”
“Damn him, why can’t he make his mind up? We’re running against the clock here and he is going backwards and forwards.” Babineau didn’t care who heard him. He swung his binoculars up and watched La Motte-Picquet round Chan Island and head northeast. Then, he swung his gaze to the Thai gunboat. She had reversed course and was heading east as well.
“There he goes; determined little bugger isn’t he?”
Despite the situation, de Quieverecourt was almost laughing at the comment. “You know, I think I like the captain of that gunboat. He’s decided what he wants to do and has set his mind on doing it. There are others who could learn from that example.”
Lieutenant Sunan expected La Motte-Picquet to emerge from the shadow of Koh Mai Si Lek any moment. Based on her previous behavior, she should be at least 15,000 meters out, in the deeper waters beyond the Koh Sang anchorage itself. That was the best range for Thonburi, one where her 200mm guns were still effective but the older 155mm weapons on the La Motte-Picquet were loosing effectiveness. He had the guns already loaded, trained and elevated so that he could open fire with the minimum of delay.
It didn’t work out that way. This time, La Motte-Picquet came in on a much more northerly course and was into the shoal water. Sunan guessed that there was probably only a few meters of water between her keel and the jagged coral. More importantly, she was at least 8,000 meters closer to the Thonburi than he had expected. In the race to get the first salvo off, the lighter, handier 155mm guns on the cruiser won. At what was virtually point-blank range, the effects were devastating.
Sunan picked himself off from the deck. His ears rang from the explosions and blood ran from his nose. Thonburi had been hit at least four times. The forward section of the ship was devastated. The bridge was a shambles, the foremast down and the conning tower had been penetrated. He knew that Captain Luang Phrom could not have survived the blows. Nobody could, not in that shambles. He staggered to his feet, pummelling life back into himself and the rest of the reserve command crew. Before he could get them to do anything in the way of fighting back, a second broadside slammed into the gunboat. The forward gun turret was knocked out; its barrels drooped dispiritedly as the power failed. Another shot bounced off the roof of the aft gun turret, jamming it in train. Two more smashed into the already-wrecked superstructure, causing fires to erupt from the antiaircraft guns.
“Bring her round, use the engines to bring her round.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Lord Buddha have mercy, I am the captain now.
Thonburi started to swing. The French were overconfident; so convinced that the gunboat was crippled that they hadn’t bothered to correct their aim. The shots fell short. Only two of the 155mm shells hit the ship; they hit low on the hull where the armor stopped them. Despite that respite, Sunan felt the tilt of the deck as Thonburi listed. There was a blast and he wondered which of the ship’s magazines had exploded. As it turned out, none of them.