“There will be better pickings ashore,” said Kranke to his executive officer Heintz.
“Ashore?”
“Of course, Heintz. We get their maps, weather information, vital data on this northern convoy route, and possibly even their code machines this time. Just you wait!”
“But sir, we have already sunk two ships here! This will cause a major provocation.”
“Yes,” said Kranke coolly. “It will.” He smiled, and Heintz immediately knew that there was more in the Kapitan’s orders than he first revealed.
“That first ship fired on us,” said Kranke. “We fired back. And you saw them train those deck guns on us just now. I took appropriate defensive action, and now we will punish the men ashore who gave the orders to attack the Kriegsmarine in these neutral waters.”
“These are not neutral waters, sir. We are well within the territorial limit claimed by the Russians.”
“That is not what the log books will read, Heintz. Get a head on your shoulders! It will be our story against theirs, but none of that matters. The important thing is that we have finally lit the match here, and now the fuse will be burning. Besides, we didn’t start the shooting. The trouble started with U-46 and Oberleutnant Grau.”
“Yes sir,” said Heintz, feeling just a bit unsettled. “Grau started it, but one day it must have an end somewhere-in either Moscow or Berlin.”
Kranke raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing more.
The cruiser Kalinin was supposed to have had a sad and lonesome war. In Fedorov’s old history it was built in Siberia, the steel, guns, and all other equipment shipped east on the trans-Siberian rail. Inactive during the war, the ship would later become a floating barracks until it was sold for scrap in 1963. But that history had changed in this new world. Instead the ship’s parts were moved north to Murmansk, and the cruiser was commissioned into the fleet just weeks ago, on the 8th of May, 1940. Designated the flagship of the fledgling Red Banner Northern Fleet, Kalinin’s history would be much more colorful.
At a whisker over 10,000 tons full load, Kalinin had a respectable battery of nine 180mm guns, a little over 7 inches and somewhat smaller than the typical 8-inch guns on a British heavy cruiser. There were also eight 85mm guns, twenty-two anti-aircraft guns, a pair of triple 21-inch torpedo mounts, fifty depth charges and over 100 mines aboard the ship.
Captain Koinev commanded the new ship, and he also had a pair of sleek hounds at his side that day, the destroyers Kalima and Saku. Originally meant for the Black Sea Fleet under the Project 20, class, these new designs weighed in at 3200 tons with a main armament of six 130mm guns and nine big torpedoes. They also carried eighty mines, and were perhaps the fastest ships in the world when commissioned into the Northern Fleet on direct orders from Sergie Kirov. The destroyers easily could run at 40 knots, and at trials the Kalima even recorded a 43 knot sprint. They were ships that had never been completed in the world Fedorov knew.
Now Koinev was pacing on the bridge, impatient in spite of the speed he was making. He was leading the cream of the Northern Fleet out to see about the numerous reports of ships and shore installations coming under fire from what was finally identified as a German raider. The war would not begin on the Polish frontier, he thought. No, it begins here, in the cold north, and this incident will soon be forgotten when the fighting starts on the ground. He knew the situation was very dangerous now, but he was determined to defend the motherland with all the skill he could muster.
The radio intercepts painted a grim picture by the time he reached the channel near the Port of Amderma after a 600 kilometer run east from Murmansk. The two destroyers had come up from Archangel to join him along the way, and by the time they reached Amderma the news of the loss of Siberiakov, old Sasha, had angered the crew when they heard it. The German raider had slipped away and had not been sighted since, but soon word came in from Port Dikson that a large warship had been sighted rounding Cape Anvil and heading into the port.
“We are under attack!” came the urgent warning, and the old port had little more to fight back with than three antiquated 152mm siege guns positioned by the quay at the edge of the harbor. There were no reinforced gun emplacements for them, and little ammunition, but the gunners rushed to man them and fired bravely in the hopes of warding the Germans off.
“Two ships sighted… boats in the water… they are coming!”
Admiral Scheer was at work again, her 11-inch guns pounding the harbor and providing ample cover while a detachment of 180 well armed naval Marines went ashore.
“Damn!” Koinev swore. “We are not ready!”
“There’s a good local militia there,” said Rykov, his gunnery officer. “Perhaps they can hold out until we get there.”
“Yet what are we up against, Rykov? Reports are very scattered. They say the Germans have U-boats and fast cruisers running wild in the Kara Sea, yet not a single ship has been properly identified.”
“We don’t need to know a ship’s name to put it at the bottom of the sea, sir. Just give me a target, and I’ll drive them off. And let them try to run from Kalima and Saku!”
Koinev nodded, his confidence returning, but he was still pacing, restless on the bridge when another message came in: Kuibyshev engaged and sinking! S.O. S!
They had run through the pale Arctic night, still lit by the sun, and cut through the narrow Malygina Strait, heading due east for Port Dikson, but he was too late to stop the Germans. Word came that they had overwhelmed the militia, captured the port command buildings, and looted the place. Then they quickly withdrew, setting buildings afire and blowing up the piers as they went. Kuibyshev was sunk on the way out.
The watch soon spotted the mast and smoke of a ship, and the alarms sent all the crew to action stations. The Germans were trying to move west into the Kara Sea again, and a race ensued as Koinev turned up his speed and released the two hounds that were leading his flotilla. Kalinin quickly worked up to battle speed at 36 knots, but the new destroyers easily pulled ahead, both at just over 40 knots as they raced to run down the German raider.
But there were two ships now… The second sighting was called out almost immediately, and Koinev knew he now had a battle on his hands. Ready or not, he whispered to himself, here it starts, and here we come.
Kranke had a long look at the ships approaching off his port quarter. The Germans had pounded Port Dikson, stormed ashore and made off with a rich haul of intelligence, leaving the Northwest Naval Command headquarters there in a shambles. Now he was in the Kara Sea on a northeasterly course that would take him up above the great barrier island of Novaya Zemlya. He could see what looked like a pair of fast destroyers and one larger ship behind them, coming up off his aft port quarter.
“Those ships are fast,” he said. “We are running at 28 knots and it looks like they will catch us in half an hour.”
“We could turn northeast, sir,” Heintz suggested. “It would be an hour before they could get close enough to engage.”
“Too much ice there. We do not run, Heintz. Don’t forget that. We will have them in range soon, but let’s see what we have here before I show them my guns.”
“It was only a matter of time before they came out to challenge us,” said Heintz. “Soon we will see how the Russian Navy fights.”
“Come 15 points to starboard. Let’s make them work.”
The two destroyers were closing on a converging course, exceeding Admiral Scheer’s speed by over ten knots. They were outpacing the bigger ship behind them to the west, obviously with orders to run the German quarry down.
Kranke signaled Nurnberg to follow him. The light cruiser could run at 32 knots if it had to, but it was clear to Kranke that there was going to be a fight here. The Russian ships seemed much faster, and so he wanted to keep his ships together. The Kapitan slowly pulled on his leather gloves, his jaw set, a determined look on his face.