Raeder had spent a full hour scouring Kranke after ordering him to take the first plane from Narvik and return to Wilhelmshaven to account for himself.
“A 5.7 inch gun that could hit you at over 26,000 meters? I find that difficult to believe Kranke.”
“Then come and look at my ship! We took seven hits at that range. Seven!”
“All from secondary batteries?”
“Thank God, yes. They would engage us and then slip away, every quarter a hour. It was as if they were simply playing with us. But they had something more at the end. I detached Nurnberg to get after that damned marauder… and then the missile came.”
“And why were they shooting at you, Kapitan? Enlighten me on that, for I gave you specific orders to scout the area, and not to engage.” It was only then that Raeder learned of Kranke’s hidden agenda, and one given to him by highly placed officers in OKW.
“Was Jodl privy to this? Keitel? Yes, they were. Am I correct? They put you up to this, did they not? They would like nothing more than to start things boiling along the Polish and Russian frontier. They don’t believe we can get their troops across the Channel, and so they look East, to Soviet Russia. But I tell you now, Kranke. A two front war is the last thing we need. I have argued it endlessly. Why should we repeat the same mistakes that were made in the first war? Surely Hitler must see this, and if he has been poisoned by the likes of Jodl and Keitel, I must do everything in my power to get him to see reason. Then you go off taking pot shots at Russian ice breakers! Are you insane? Those were not your orders!”
On and on it went, until Raeder determined that those were, indeed, Kranke’s orders, even though they had not come from him. He had half a mind to tender his resignation then and there, and to tell Hitler that if it were not his to command the navy then he should find another. Now he looked suspiciously at Canaris.
That man knows entirely too much, he thought. And one thing he knows is that I am determined to force the issue of the war into the Mediterranean. Could the Abwehr Chief have been behind Kranke’s insubordination? Perhaps, he thought. Canaris is a navy man. He knew Kranke, and if anyone could get to that man it would be Canaris.
The more he thought about this, the more he began to see a devious plot here. Why would Kranke listen to Jodl or anyone else at OKW? But Canaris is another kettle of fish. Yes, he could have been the one that put Kranke up to this deliberate provocation. Canaris has been busy in Spain since the Spanish civil war. He speaks the language fluently, is very cozy with Franco, and I have heard that he has been quietly working to maintain Spanish neutrality.
Yes… Canaris. This was the man behind everything, the man with a hand in everyone’s pocket. If Spain remains neutral, then my plans for an attack on Gibraltar will be compromised. We need access to Spanish territory to do that. So what does Canaris do? He arranges this little dance with Kranke when he gets wind of my Operation Wunderland. He knows the kindling is piled high along the Russian border, and now he lights the match. Look at him, sitting there as if this were an afternoon tea. I must be very careful here. I am already on thin ice now after Lindemann’s failure and the loss of Nurnberg and Sigfrid, not to mention the Altmark. I have much to account for, and Canaris is going to enjoy watching me squirm. The question is how to prevent this incident from becoming a pretext for war against Russia? How to prevent it from destroying my plans in the Mediterranean?
The sound of heavy footfalls echoed in the hall and seconds later the door burst open. The SS guards surveyed the room darkly and announced the arrival of the Fuhrer of the German Reich, Adolf Hitler. He stepped into the room, giving the three men there a narrow eyed look as they all stood to attention.
“Very well,” Hitler looked immediately to Raeder, as if the other men were not even present, and spoke the words the Admiral knew he would hear this day. “Explain yourself, Raeder. Tell me… why do all the new ships you've been building have holes in them? Tell me why there has not been a single British transport ship sunk during your operation. Tell me what this nonsense is about a British ship firing rockets, and driving off the finest battleships in the world! And when you are done with that, tell me why, after six years of steel and sweat in the shipyards, all these ships seem good for little more than running home for repairs?” The Fuhrer folded his arms, his eyes smoldering, standing like a carved statue, implacable.
“My Fuhrer,” Raeder began, not knowing where in the list he should start. Begin with any success you have, he realized, and hope you can somehow get this man to learn the lessons you yourself have taken here with this hard medicine.
“The operation was not without its successes. It was never designed to seek an all-out engagement with the Royal Navy, but merely to test the mettle of their strengths, and stand as a trial for our own ships, some fresh from the shipyards and entering battle for the first time. The experience we have gained was invaluable, particularly regarding the use of aircraft carriers in operation with the fleet.”
“Oh? What about Gneisenau? Where is the Nurnberg? Where's that nice shiny new destroyer you built for me? Thank god only two of these ships were sunk!”
“That was regrettable, my Fuhrer, but combat at sea always entails the risks that ships engaged may be damaged or sunk. This is why I gave specific orders to Lindemann not to seek a major engagement that would place our capital ships at risk of sustaining severe damage.”
“But they were damaged, Raeder. Bismarck, Tirpitz, and Gneisenau are now in the repair yards.”
“Yet none hurt seriously enough to impede their operations in the near future, my Fuhrer. Tirpitz sustained a minor torpedo hit, but one that proved again the necessity of protecting the fleet with additional air power.” Raeder glanced at Goering as he spoke. “In like manner, the damage to Bismarck simply involved the loss of a single secondary battery which can be replaced in a few weeks time. As for Gneisenau, the hit that ship sustained was more significant, and will take several months work to repair, but otherwise the ship is sound and seaworthy. Yet in taking this blow, we have discovered that our enemies may now have achieved a level of technical proficiency in another area that can pose a grave threat.” He looked at Canaris now.
“You are speaking of these rockets?” said Hitler.
“What else, my Fuhrer? Yes, the rockets! We are working on them ourselves, so do not be surprised that our enemies have done the same. Only they appear to have achieved something here that is well beyond our capabilities at this moment. These were shipborne missiles, and they proved to be decisive in each and every engagement, as much for the initial shock value as anything else.”
“What about this, Canaris?” Hitler looked to his Abwehr Chief now. “Why is it we have heard nothing of this?”
“Because there has been nothing, sir. My agents have found no evidence that the British have an advanced rocket project ready for deployment.”
“Then who was firing at my ships? The Americans?”
Canaris shifted, poised, a half smile on his face. “My Fuhrer, we have no information that would in any way confirm that.”
“Raeder? Tell me more about these rocket weapons. Clearly my intelligence Chief can tell me nothing!” Hitler’s displeasure was obvious, but Canaris sat unmoved.
“I have interviewed all the senior officers involved in the operation,” said Raeder, chastened but yet determined. “They described these weapons as fast, accurate, and having great range-a range exceeding that of our most powerful naval guns. They were undoubtedly a secret project. These missiles move like lightning. They strike with pinpoint accuracy, and the one that nearly hit the Graf Zeppelin was fired from well over 100 kilometers away.” He left the full weight of that statement out there, watching the reactions of the other men.