Twelve aircraft of No. 86 Beaufort squadron, reinforced by three Beauforts of 217 Squadron, were at St Eval in Cornwall. Their role was to deal with a break-out from Brest into the Atlantic. The seven remaining aircraft of 217 Squadron were at Thorney Island, near Portsmouth, ready for action in the Channel.
They were much nearer the Germans' course, and could have attacked before the Swordfish at Manston. But the main burden of the immediate attack was left to the six Swordfish, because senior officers were convinced the dash through the Straits would be made at night — and the Swordfish were certainly the ideal planes for such an attack. Under these conditions they had destroyed the Italian fleet in Taranto harbour in 1940.
The Admiralty made one other disposition. They alerted six 20-year-old destroyers, drawn from the 21st Flotilla, based on Sheerness, and the 16th Flotilla at Harwich. With these six old destroyers were four smaller Hunt Class destroyers, which were not armed with torpedoes. The Admiralty decided that if the Germans were to sail through the Channel, these destroyers would attack.
The combined flotilla was commanded by 42-year-old Captain Mark Pizey aboard HMS Campbell. He was ordered to sail for Harwich in Campbell, accompanied by Vivacious, to join Captain Wright commanding the 16th Destroyer Flotilla in Mackay, with Worcester, Whitshed and Walpole. Both these flotillas were normally out day and night escorting convoys along the east coast, to protect them against German E-boats.
Late in the afternoon of 4 February, Captain Pizey sailed into Harwich and went straight to the Commodore's office, where he talked on the green scrambler telephone with Dover. They gave him the Admiralty's view of the possible Schamhorst and Gneisenau break-out, saying if they came through the Channel his six torpedo-carrying destroyers must attack them. To be ready for the attack, they were to remain in Harwich harbour at short notice for eight days, the period that favourable tides lasted.
Captain Pizey was also handed a teleprinter signal from the Admiralty, timed 20:09 February 3, which read: "To Captain D 21 flotilla from Vice-Admiral Dover. If signal 'Proceed in execution of previous orders' is made, destroyers are to proceed forthwith at best speed to North-West Hinder Buoy, latitude 051 degrees 33 minutes North, longitude 002 degrees 36 minutes East, via 53 buoy. You will be kept informed of movement of enemy ships through Dover Straits and you should endeavour to intercept them in the approximate latitude 051 degrees 30 minutes North. MTBs will not operate north of latitude 051 degrees 23 minutes North. Acknowledge."
He acknowledged the signal by teleprinter and went back aboard Campbell. A lamp signal ordered all the five destroyer Captains whose ships were secured to buoys in Harwich harbour, to come aboard his flagship for instructions. These were to be at five minutes' notice for steam from dusk to daylight, which meant that the Chief Engineer must be able to report "Engine room ready to obey telegraph" within a maximum of five minutes. They were to be moored with cables through the ring of the mooring buoys, ready to be instantly slipped and hauled aboard. Everyone slept in their clothes and the signal office was on twenty-four hours duty ready to receive Admiralty radio orders. Each evening at five o'clock, Pizey invited the five Captains aboard Campbell to discuss battle-plans and any new tactics—"tatticks" as the Navy calls them. Everyone scanned the charts thinking of every conceivable situation — but no action signal came.
As all night leave was stopped, the ratings assumed that something big might happen. Ted Tong, 41-year-old PO. steward aboard Whitshed, told his wife Violet, who was living near Harwich, that something big was brewing. He confided to her that Lt.-Cdr. W. A. Juniper, captain of Whitshed, kept walking up and down the wardroom twisting a match-box in his hand, as he always did when he was thinking over a problem.
The only other forces ready when the attack came were six motor-torpedo boats in Dover and three in Ramsgate. The Dover boats were commanded by Lt.-Cdr. Nigel Pumphrey, the Ramsgate boats by Lt. D. J. Long.
So, to contest the passage of the battleships through the Dover Straits the Royal Navy had six Fleet Air Arm Swordfish at Manston, nine MTBs at Dover and Ramsgate, and six 20-year-old destroyers at Harwich. It was a pathetic force to put against the might of the German battle squadron, steaming at thirty knots under the shadow of the greatest air umbrella any ships had ever had.
On 11 February reconnaissance reports showed Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen out of the repair yards and lying against fuelling wharves. Six destroyers were also in harbour. But the boom defences were still in place.
Admiral Ramsay at Dover made his preparations. His plan was to slow down and cripple the battleships with combined torpedo attacks by the MTBs and Swordfish, while they were in the range of the Dover heavy guns. If the Germans sailed through in moonlight, the Swordfish were to attack singly. They were to be directed by Flt-Lt. Gerald Kidd, the RAF Controller at Swingate, while Hurricane fighter bombers were to drop flares over the German ships. If they managed to scrape through the Straits they would be attacked by the whole might of the RAF Captain Mark Pizey's six destroyers were then to attack off the Dutch coast, in an area where they could fight unhampered by the British minefields. It was not much of a plan even for a night dash.
III
"YOU WILL KISS YOUR WIFE TONIGHT"
On 11 February a German supply petty officer went ashore as usual to collect the officers' laundry and the mail. The officers had to wait a long time for their clean shirts and the crew for their mail, as he received an additional order-to stay ashore and await further instructions. Not until the ships had sailed did he receive his orders — to deliver the bags to Wilhelmshaven and Kiel. Eventually he brought the ships' laundry and the mail by a regular German train running across France direct from Brest to Wilhelmshaven. It was known as the Submarine Train, as it mostly carried U-boat supplies.
Among the officers who had to wait a long time for his shirts was Chief of Staff Reinicke. Although he spent most of his time aboard Scharnhorst he had rooms ashore where he kept personal belongings. When he boarded Scharnhorst that morning he left all his clothes behind. He did not dare pack anything in case French dock workers on the quai Lannion might notice his taking a suitcase on board — and wonder why.
As a result of this precaution he had to borrow shirts and collars for seven weeks. But not everyone was deceived by these elaborate subterfuges. Small oversights occurred. Thirty-six-year-old Lieutenant Wilhelm Wolf was one junior officer who did not fully believe in this "exercise" of the ships. A car was used for ferrying officers to and from the nightly RAF air attacks. When he saw this car being taken on board it seemed to him a strange cargo for a short exercise.
And in the German naval bases of Kiel and Wilhelmshaven the coming break-out was an open secret, particularly among the wives of the destroyer crews. As they left one by one to steam westwards down the Channel the women gossiped over their coffee, "They are going to escort the battleships home through the Kanal." In spite of these indiscretions, since these were German naval bases, not French ports surrounded by hostile inhabitants, the secret remained safe.
Everything stood ready for the break-out. Ruge's minesweepers reported they had cleared a safe passage. Captain Bey's destroyers and torpedo boats were concentrated in Brest.