“A hunch then,” Sir Joshua said. “These chaps have a hunch, is that what you’re telling me? I’m to mobilize the Home Fleet and God knows what else on a hunch?”
“Call it a theory, Sir Joshua,” Hamilton said, refusing to be intimidated by Bimble’s tone. “These two chaps come back to me with a theory. I didn’t think much of it myself and told them so in no uncertain terms. Even now the idea is too fantastic to contemplate. But Nottingham’s encounter and distressing lack of further communication concerns me. My two chaps think that Jerry’s been hiding an H-class battleship up there.”
The room erupted at the news and questions began flying across the table. How was it possible? How did you hide a sixty-thousand-ton ship? Surely the intelligence services would have gotten wind of this monster?
“Quiet!” Sir Joshua roared. “I can’t think with this cacophony. You shall each have a turn to speak.” His bristly white eyebrows settled low over his black eyes as he scanned the table. “Now. I want your opinions one at a time with no interruptions. Each will speak his mind, no matter how outlandish. Elwes, you first.”
“Sir Joshua,” Elwes said, “with respect to Commander Hamilton, it’s impossible for a ship this size to be commissioned and hidden. I can’t even begin to think of the resources that the Germans would have to employ to accomplish this remarkable feat. Truly we don’t know what happened to Nottingham and I’m sure that we shall shortly hear from Captain Harland on this matter, but we cannot jump to conclusions based upon an incomplete W.T. transmission and the theory posed by two low-level officers. And one of those an American who, I might add, we might rightly assume has no battle experiences and very little to do with Germans to date.”
“Macready?” Bimble said.
“I think it highly unlikely, Sir Joshua. For the most part for the reasons stated by Elwes but additionally because Hitler became speedily disenchanted with large surface vessels after Bismarck was sunk. He has virtually ordered Tirpitz to remain within sight of shore. We are told that he fears the impact of another dramatic loss on the morale of the German people.”
Sir Joshua nodded to the rotund commander. “Blakely?”
“With respect to all said before me I can add nothing of consequence. However,” he added before Sir Joshua had a chance to move on, “what we have not considered is the presence of those U-boats. Prince of Wales can outrun anything afloat, Sir Joshua, should she choose. But what about that line of U-boats?”
“Relative to speed she has nothing to fear from U-boats,” Sir Joshua noted, interrupting Blakely.
“Of course, Sir Joshua,” Blakely said. “But even a bear is in danger of being brought down by a pack of hounds. Let us suppose that this behemoth does not exist, for the purposes of this argument only. We are confident that there are more than a dozen U-boats poised to intercept Prince of Wales. Let us recommend that she chart a course to avoid that concentration of U-boats and proceed with all dispatch.”
“Recall her escorts?” Hamilton said.
“Only those who can’t keep up with her,” Blakely said. “Destroyers and such.”
“The very vessels that she needs to protect her from U-boats,” Sir Joshua said.
“The very vessels which because of their inability to keep up with her,” Macready jumped in, “place her in additional jeopardy from the U-boats.”
Elwes joined the conversation. “No longer the bear, she now becomes the fleet stag.”
Bimble gave him a cross look. The admiral found such imagery distasteful when his ships were in danger. It was unseemly — most unseemly. He said, “All right, let’s continue.” The others around the table gave their opinion, but it appeared if Blakely, not the brightest star in the galaxy, one admiral had commented of him, carried the day.
“I see,” Bimble said. “Allow me to take a slightly different tack. Each of you having your say as to the impossibility of her being an H-class battleship, you must now answer this question. What is she? Tirpitz is accounted for. If she’s a pocket battleship she’s the first one in history mounting sixteen-inch guns.”
“Nottingham’s report could have been in error,” Elwes said.
“Yes,” Bimble said. “But do we take that chance? In front of Prince of Wales is a large force of U-boats. Behind her, possibly, is a very fast, very powerful capital ship. Throw in three convoys that are in the wrong place at the wrong time and we have the makings of a very creditable disaster here. We can’t take chances with this one, gentlemen.”
“With all due respect, Sir Joshua,” Macready said, “war is a matter of taking chances. Calculated risks.”
“Thank you for the education about making war,” Sir Joshua said. “Calculate all you like. Plan as much as you think necessary. Detail every conceivable outcome and in the end all can be thrown into a cocked hat by an unforeseen event or action. Wouldn’t you agree, gentlemen?”
The men around the table were silent.
“Yes,” Bimble said. “My thoughts exactly. Elwes, you will contact Coastal Command and inform them that we suspect the presence of an enemy vessel in our area of operation. Harry?”
“Sir Joshua?”
“See if that impetuous American and the other fellow have anything to add to this development.”
“Indeed I will, Sir Joshua.”
“Now. Hear me on this, gentlemen. If you sift through what we have accomplished today you will find very little. If you place what we know on one scale and what we don’t know on the other, you can bloody well see how it will be tipped. I don’t like that, not one bit. No, gentlemen, I don’t. But I haven’t anything else to go by, so I’ll take what we have discussed to Their Lordships and they can make whatever decisions they see fit. Hold yourselves at the ready because I am fully convinced that we shall be meeting here quite often. Harry, if you please, a moment.”
After the others left the room at a respectful pace, Hamilton joined Sir Joshua at the head of the table.
“How sure are these chaps,” Sir Joshua asked, “and how sure of them are you?”
“I tossed them out of my office straightaway when they first came to me. Now…” Hamilton said, “I’m simply not sure.”
“Who are they? Do I know them?”
“The American’s name is Cole, a lieutenant in the Office of Naval Intelligence. Bright, excellent analysis, bit of a rogue. His companion in this affair is Sublieutenant Richard Moore.”
“His Lordship’s son? Good Lord, man, is that all you’ve got?”
“Yes. Both rather brilliant, Sir Joshua. Both unaccustomed to accepting things at face value.”
“Perhaps that is what we need, because on the face of it we have a bloody awful mystery here with the potential for unmitigated disaster. Maybe they have found something of significance? Perhaps there is just a passing chance that Cole and Moore have the key to this mystery?”
Hamilton did not bother to reply.
“Yes,” Sir Joshua said about his own musings. “And if my uncle had had different plumbing he would have been my aunt. What concerns me, Harry, is that I can think up a thousand questions at the drop of a hat, but it’s the answers that elude me.”
Chapter 18
Mahlberg took his action report on the bridge, listening as each division made its account, interested particularly in engineering and ordnance. Divisions 1–4, the main and secondary armaments, handled themselves quite ably although the second gun shell hoist in Anton and one of the elevating cylinders in Bruno malfunctioned. Repairs were being made. Division 8, Ordnance, kept the big guns fed despite mechanical difficulties. Buried deep within Sea Lion, Division 8’s work was seldom recognized for its danger. These seamen were surrounded by hundreds of tons of explosives and one misstep on their part could destroy the ship.