Whenever 91 Squadron expected trouble of this sort they flew in pairs. Sq. Ldr. Oxspring took Sergeant Beaumont with him in a second Spitfire.
At 10:16 a.m., the RAF radar station at Swingate began to plot three big "blips," indicating ships fifty-six miles away in the direction of Boulogne. The size of the "blips" and the estimated distance indicated they were much bigger than anything ever before seen. But the only German ships of any size were locked up in Brest. Or were they?
The radar station commander, 31-year-old Flt.-Lt. Gerald Kidd, a solicitor in civilian life, suddenly asked, "Are these the Scharnhorst and the Gneiserum?"
At the same time, other radar stations began picking up constant circular plots, which they identified as patrolling German E-boats. But they were in fact Galland's fighter umbrella circling over the German battleships.
It was 10:20 a.m. The German ships had been at sea for eleven hours undetected. Now at last Kidd had deduced the truth. When he carefully examined the reports, the size of the "blips" absolutely convinced him that the German warships were approaching the Straits of Dover in daylight.
When Kidd tried to telephone a warning to Dover Castle, the GPO line was defective. Further attempts to call on the scrambler proved equally frustrating. Later investigation of the defective telephone revealed that both the GPO and the secret scrambler were plugged into the same line, so anyone in the area could eavesdrop on Swingate and Dover discussing top secret radar reports.
Just before Gerald Kidd saw the "blips" on his radar near Dover, Group Captain Victor Beamish, one of the more dashing aces of the RAF, was looking at the weather report at Kenley fighter aerodrome. As it was too cloudy and misty for his new and inexperienced pilots to fly operationally, he thought it was going to be "one of the quiet days' of the war." So he decided to take Wing-Cdr. Finlay Boyd with him to do a two-man sweep "just to keep things moving."
At 10:10 a.m. they climbed into their Spitfires. Flying over the Channel twenty minutes later, they saw two Messerschmitts and climbed up to attack them. They had stumbled into the outer guard of Galland's air umbrella protecting the German battleships.
The Spitfires had discovered the ships at their most vulnerable moment. They were nearing the square on the chart in which there had been the new mine alarm during the night. The First Mine-Sweeping Flotilla under Lt.-Cdr. Bergelt, with only four boats, was still-trying to clear them. As the big ships hove into view, they had just managed to produce a very narrow channel free of mines. Between 10:26 a.m. and 10:47 a.m., Bergelt's mine-sweepers with their gear out went ahead, while the ships followed them through the channel at only ten knots. During these twenty-one terrifying minutes they saw the Spitfires overhead.
At 10:30 a.m., Jarvis at Fighter Command became seriously worried about the heavy jamming, which he now decided might be deliberate. Were the Germans doing it to hide something coming up the Channel? When he suggested to Number 11 Group that they send off a special reconnaissance plane, they pointed out that twenty minutes before the "Jim Crow" flight consisting of two Spitfires had taken off from Hawkinge. They did not know about Victor Beamish's trip over the Channel.
As the German ships were sailing slowly through the narrow swept channel, Oxspring and Beaumont flew between 1,200 and 1,800 feet in rain showers just below the heavy clouds, ready to nip into them if they encountered German fighters. Visibility was so poor it was hard to distinguish between cloud and sea.
At 10:40 a.m., Kidd from Swingate finally succeeded in telephoning his first warning to Dover by routing his call through Portsmouth. He was ordered to come to Dover Castle at once.
At the same moment, Oxspring and Beaumont dived through the clouds fifteen miles west of Le Touquet. They quickly nipped back into cloud as flak shells began to burst round them, and a dozen Messerschmitts raced towards them. They had arrived over the E-boat screen. As they dodged the fighters, they sighted three big ships sailing close together. Oxspring and Beaumont thought they were British vessels, even though the ships kept firing at them as they seemed to be pointing straight at Dover. In the BAF view, the Royal Navy was notoriously trigger-happy after Dunkirk.
As Oxspring and Beaumont swung over the German convoy, with rain beating at their cockpit perspex and dimming their vision, they suddenly sighted two fighters beneath the clouds. They turned to attack them but as they closed to 500 yards on their tails, Oxspring saw to his astonishment red, white and blue roundels on their wings. He hastily called over the intercom to Beaumont, "Don't fire, they're Spitfires!"
It was Group Captain Victor Beamish and Wing-Cdr. Finlay Boyd. They had also seen three large warships steaming towards Dover. As they went down to have a better look, neither Beamish nor Boyd noticed the two other Spitfires above them, because flak began to burst around them as well and German fighters roared on to their tails. Oxspring and Beaumont watched their two Spitfires turn and dive down on the ships.
E-boats and destroyers threw up a tremendous screen of flak and more German fighters plummeted down towards Beamish and Boyd. To escape the pursuing Messerschmitts, they dived straight through the flak, and the German pilots did not try to follow them.
As they came lower, they saw two large ships with trident masts. Flying down to sea level to get a better look, they could see the bow waves curling over the foredecks of the battleships and their long lines of escorts.
On the bridge of the Scharnhorst, Admiral Ciliax watched the wave-hopping planes and said to Captain Hoffmann, "This is the start of it. We are now discovered. The attack will come at any minute."
As they were now out of the narrow mine-free lane, he ordered the battleships to increase speed to thirty knots. Mist and low cloud came drifting down over the Channel. It was bitterly cold and driving rain began to fall as the German gunners waited for the British attack. Why did it not come?
It should have, for this was the first piece of luck for the British. By coincidence, four Spitfires had arrived together over the ships. Three of the pilots were experienced, high-ranking RAF officers and if they all identified them there could be no doubt.
Yet nothing happened. The main reason was that Beamish never thought to disobey the radio silence order. This was the supreme moment, when he should have ignored all the regulations and warned the British forces that the German ships were just about to begin their dash through the Straits of Dover. All he had to do was to switch on his radio and repeat the word "Fuller" — and the whole of the British defences would have been alerted. But regulations said that radio silence should be observed on all operational flights. So with a wave to Boyd to follow him, he led the way back to Kenley preserving radio silence on the way.
His junior officer, Sq. Ldr. Oxspring, was much more enterprising. Watching the other two Spitfires courageously dive into the thick flak, Oxspring instantly realized that such a large number of ships sailing so close to England must be protecting German battleships. As his job was reconnaissance, not fighting, he decided this was the moment to disobey orders, and break radio silence to warn the Biggin Hill controller. It was one of the most sensible decisions made that day. He did not know the code-word, as his senior officer Beamish did, but he flicked over his switch and gave his recognition phrase, "Barman Blue Leader. Three large German ships, probably battle-cruisers, escorted by twenty-plus craft sailing off Le Touquet heading towards Dover."
He then called to Beaumont, "Get back to base," and both planes headed for Hawkinge. The time was 10:35 a.m.