Planes were to remain over the ships as long as their fuel reserves permitted, then fly to the next airfield where they would quickly be refuelled and supplied with new ammunition ready to fly off again. The first planes were to meet the ships somewhere in the Seine Bay before dawn and accompany them to the North Sea.
At 2 p.m. the control centre was to move from Le Touquet to Schiphol, and the air-bases in the area of the mouths of the Rhine and Scheldt had to be ready. By evening the planes were to join bases in the Wilhelmshaven area.
Galland arranged to put Luftwaffe officers in each of the three big ships to help German fighters to deal with the RAF during the break-out. On the Scharnhorst was their commander Col. Max Ibel who was in charge of the Fighter Control Board. There were also to be fighter controllers on Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen.
After the Hitler conference, Luftwaffe Col. Ibel received orders to co-ordinate and take charge of the air umbrella. On 20 January he arrived with Lt.-Col. Hentschel and Lt.-Col. Elle with a staff to be posted among the ships, Captain Rutsch was attached to Gneisenau and Lt. Rothenberg to Prinz Eugen. To avoid RAF bombing interfering with their preparations, they lived outside Brest in the ironically named château "Beau Repos."
The Luftwaffe installed additional radio equipment in the ships to direct the fighter pilots. The radio contact between the flagship Scharnhorst and the command centres along the German-occupied coast was achieved by very-high-frequency— VHF — radio telephone or by means of long-wave coded messages. Radio telephone communications were established between the fighter command centres and the airfields. Particularly important and difficult to install was a line from the crow's nest to the Scharnhorst's bridge, to give the earliest possible warnings of RAF attacks.
Their next problem was to ensure the faultless adjustment of the ships' equipment, so that it would accurately guide the fighters from the ship, pick up the exchanges of conversation of the low-level cover — above all in the morning and evening twilight — and receive the beamed air warnings from the Luftwaffe command post.
The Luftwaffe officers were aboard when the ships went out to the "Dalbenplatz" — Dolphin Place — in the Bay of Brest for calibration of direction finders. The Dalbenplatz was more than a mooring at which a ship swings with the tides. It was an elaborate iron grill permanently made fast in deepish water. Ships could be "strapped" motionless fore and aft to the Dalbenplatz while the necessary delicate adjustments were made with the ship afloat but completely rigid. Prinz Eugen, Gneisenau and Scharnhorst were calibrated on 22, 23 and 28 January respectively. Afterwards, the three Luftwaffe colonels had a conference with Admiral Ciliax to finalize details of arrangements for protecting the ships from constant air attack.
Calland faced the same problem of keeping the secret as Commodore Ruge and the battleship senior officers, since the plan had to be concealed from the German aircrews as well. He had to invent fanciful excuses for the trial runs while this extensive communication apparatus was tried and co-ordinated. Nearer the time, the Luftwaffe pilots were told that a convoy with a very important cargo was to pass the Channel from east to west and they were to protect it.
The excuse given to the ships' crews for the Luftwaffe preparations was that plans were being made for joint exercises with the Luftwaffe south of Brest. The story was that the ships were to leave Brest after sunset on 11 February, carry out exercises between La Pallice and St. Nazaire during the 12th, and return to Brest on the following night. To allay suspicions, the usual small percentage of men were sent on leave.
Targets were ordered for gunnery practice off St. Nazaire and concentrated patrols were scheduled against British submarines in the same area. These German anti-submarine patrols were unnecessary, as the nearest British submarines were fifty miles out in the Atlantic guarding against a break-out there — not through the Channel.
Setting up such an air protection network required many rehearsals. During the first week of February the Luftwaffe flew 450 sorties simulating actual conditions as near as possible. With wry humour, the Luftwaffe code named these rehearsals "the beginning of Spring." British radar picked them up but no one was alarmed.
Admiral Ciliax was also having his problems. For Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen were no longer the fine fighting ships they had been. Nor did they look it. The once smart, well-painted ships were showing signs of rust and were stained at the water-line by the scum of oil which covered Brest harbour.
Although normally the German sailor is a stolid, levelheaded chap, the ships' companies were not living under the conditions that enhance morale. Sailors were virtually only day lodgers aboard their ships.
Also, while the ships remained immobilized in Brest, there had been a drawing off from the regular ship's company, especially naval technicians for urgent requirements elsewhere.
Unobtrusively, the crews were strengthened by the return of experts and technicians with extensive combat experience who had been posted away. But it was still difficult to train the inexperienced crews when there was no opportunity for "shake-down" cruises.
When Hitler gave his order it left only a month to go. Would they in fact ever get the crews ready in time? Due to the urgent time factor and the deep secrecy, opportunities for training the new recruits were limited. It was not possible to let the officers responsible for trying to bring the crews up to fighting efficiency into the secret of the great enterprise that lay ahead. There could only be talk of exercises which inspired no one.
Yet in spite of continual heavy air attacks, the repairs to the three ships were far advanced, although there was still work to be done in the dockyard. But this could not be hastened in case it aroused suspicions. For the same reason, the ships only dared to make one, or at the most two, short runs out of Brest to the Dalbenplatz for ranging practice on air and sea targets. As these short practice trips were not enough preparation to get the ships into fighting trim, firing practice had to be done at their normal berths on the quai Lannion. This firing practice was so urgent that Scharnhorst's gun crews even carried it out while she was still in dry-dock.
While this was going on, there could be no feeling of urgency reflected upon the faces of the half-dozen senior officers who knew about the coming break-out. Yet all these officers agreed it would be miraculous if no leakage took place.
For the perils were many. Not only did RAF reconnaissance aircraft fly regularly over Brest, but the port was working normally with French labour. Coastal traffic and fishing were being carried out as usual, and the Germans used French tugs manned by French crews. Any one of these could have their suspicions aroused and pass on information to the unseen army of French resistance agents lurking in the town.
There was one comforting factor for the Germans. There had been no sabotage at Brest. Although there was sullen hostility among the locals, the Germans went ashore freely. Officers often indulged their favourite recreation — riding— galloping alone for miles along the coast.
While the ships lay at the quai Lannion secretly preparing for the break-out the major task was to make the French believe they would not be leaving for a long time, and to mislead them about their destination. So tropical helmets were brought aboard to give the impression the' ships might be off to Africa or the South Atlantic. Barrels of lubricating oil marked: "For use in the tropics," were conspicuously loaded into the ships by French dock workers. Gossips discreetly spread rumours around the cafés that the battleships were leaving for a southern destination.