Peter accepted that as true. The Navy seemed to be reacting rather than initiating conflict in the North Sea. The fleet on the back foot was not the one that would win. It might not lose, either. Was that good enough for Nelson’s Navy?
“Bugger it, sir! Nelson’s dead. So will we be if we don’t get this flying right. How are we to organise ourselves, sir? Do we run our own little show or are we to take day-to-day orders from on high?”
Troughton was not entirely certain – he had been told that ‘it was all being worked out as a matter of urgency’.
“That means we shall certainly have an answer by this time next year, Naseby… With luck. For the while, get the lads in the air and out on their first long patrols while the weather holds. Out over the Channel to the French coast will be best. Send them up at fifteen minute intervals, out of sight of each other, I would suggest. Bombed up and fused as seems best to this new man in the magazine.”
“Handsworth? He seems competent, sir.”
“Talks well. Apparently there are new fuses designed to explode a bomb underwater. Something about a membrane that gives way under pressure so it can be set for a desired depth, or maybe not. There was definitely a membrane involved, but I’m not sure what one of those is. Has to be done in the magazine. The pilot can’t make a choice in the air.”
“Set for one hundred feet as a rule, sir? On the big bombs at least.”
“Subs won’t want to go much below that if they can avoid it, especially if they are chasing coasters in the Channel. What about the sixteen pounders?”
Peter sat back in his chair, searching for the right words.
“Do we need them, sir? If we were so lucky as to come out of cloud directly above a sub, we might drop one down the conning tower. Exploding inside the pressure hull it must rip the crew to shreds. Other than that, sir, what damage would one do to the outside of a pressure hull? Too small, I suspect, to do any good at all. I think we should use the big bombs exclusively, sir.”
“A single attack. After that, our sole function will be to use the wireless and act as eyes for the destroyers and sloops.”
“That may be what we are best at, sir. High in the sky, two pairs of binoculars scanning for miles ahead and astern of a convoy, pottering along for hours, keeping the subs down.”
“Not very glamorous, Naseby.”
“Balls to glamour, sir. I’ll leave that to Beatty.”
“Well said – but not outside this office, for Christ’s sake!”
The laughed, nervously. The China Station loomed for those officers who spoke out of turn, or possibly OIC Port Stanley in the Falklands, as far from civilisation as was possible.
“What do we know about wind, sir?”
“Apart from the very obvious, Naseby?”
“I was thinking more of the effects on the balloons, sir. What wind can we fly in and does it make a difference if it’s abeam or ahead?”
“Bloody good question. No idea. If it’s abeam it must blow you off track to an extent. Leeway. You would have to turn into it to maintain your course. I wonder how much? Pass that across to Tubbs, if I was you, Naseby. I don’t know what the maximum force is you can fly in. I shall ask about.”
“Captain Fitzjames, perhaps, sir?”
“He’s not very well, just now, Naseby. In fact, he’s bloody ill! Didn’t like the look of him at all when I saw him yesterday. Skin and bone and grey in the face, under that beard. Not a lot more than a skull staring out at me. I don’t know what’s wrong with the man – I’m no doctor – but I wouldn’t give you tuppence for him lasting the month.”
“Pity, sir. An able man and dedicated to the balloons.”
“Too much so, perhaps, Naseby. Too busy with the blimps to look after himself. Might have been something that could have been cured if he had gone a doctor early. Too late now.”
They talked a while longer, agreed that Fitzjames’ passing might well lead to a new command structure over them, more formalised and awake to their day-to-day activities.
“Might end up with a lot more by way of orders from on high, Naseby.”
“It’s the Navy, sir. We are enjoying a quiet time at the moment. Let’s make the most of it.”
Tubbs thought it would be simple to draw up a table for compass corrections according to windspeed and direction.
“An anemometer here at Polegate, sir, so that we have our own information on windspeed immediately to hand. Then we can make allowance for the wind as soon as we take off. Mind you, sir, we will almost always be in sight of land, working in the Channel, so we won’t need to take a compass bearing very often. If we have to intercept a convoy out in mid-Channel, it might be useful, though the odds are high we shall see it simply enough.”
He said he would sit down for an hour or two that evening and work out the basics of a table.
“Should be easy enough, sir.”
Peter was glad to hear that.
The morning saw two Sea Scouts out on the field, Bracegirdle ready to take his new command out for her maiden flight.
“Excellent! An hour inland to see that the kinks are all worn out and then bring her back and make ready for an operational patrol west along the coast as far as the Isle of Wight. Circle around the Island and return. I shall be taking SS9 out for the day.” Peter turned to the other crews. “We expect the other blimps this morning. Mr Troughton will see to them and to allocating them to you and sending you all out. A busy day, I hope.”
He looked for CPO Yarney.
“We shall have five blimps operational by day’s end, Chief. Is all in hand?”
“It is, sir. I suspect I shall put in for more bodies for ground crew, sir. It seems likely that we will want bodies to handle two balloons at a time, sir. That will stretch us at the moment.”
“Speak to Mr Troughton, Chief. I will warn him and tell him I support your request.”
Peter had no choice but give his backing to Yarney. The Chief Petty Officer was vital to the running of the field, probably more than any of the officers.
Peter took SS9 up to five thousand feet on the way out, for the experience, never having done so. They could see both sides of the Channel, but nothing in detail, would have to be lower to pick out the dot that was a surfaced submarine. It was wonderful to be high, above everything, masters of the air. Pointless from the military sense. He would not repeat the adventure, unless he happened to be on posting, travelling rather than patrolling.
“Down we go, Griffiths. Is that a rifle you have with you? Not the standard carbine?”
“Yes, sir. My own, sir. Brought it back with me from Africa. Better range than a Lewis, sir, and very accurate. Might be able to put a bullet or two into the conning tower of a sub going down, sir. Drop one or two of the crew, sir, slow them in getting clear and shutting down their hatches.”
“Worth having, I suspect. Make sure you have a loose cord tied on so that you don’t lose it when turning hard.”
“Done that, sir.”
They patrolled to the French coast and back again, three times, saw few ships and no submarines. It was a peaceful way to spend a day, not necessarily productive from any naval viewpoint.
“Another nine hours in my book, sir.”
“Book?”
“I’m keeping a logbook, sir. Like a midshipman’s journal. To show the Board for my promotion.”
“Well thought, Griffiths. I had not considered that. I will instruct the rest of the snotties to do the same.”
Peter sat with Troughton, going over the day.
“We have our five blimps now, Naseby. Won’t be getting a sixth, I am informed. We are to provide cover for Channel convoys from tomorrow on. Where possible, we shall take a westbound as far as Portland and pick up an eastbound there to come back with. Won’t always be practical. Might have to turn around at Portsmouth if the convoy is very slow. Depends on the day-to-day workings of the Channel forces. That will normally account for three blimps. Two will go out on patrol of inshore waters, one west, one east, each day working up and down the coast, backwards and forwards over a stretch of thirty miles or so. Differing a bit each day. Sometimes very early, other days later on, into the evening. When we get bigger blimps, soon, that will be, then it will be patrols down into the Bay of Biscay and back, looking for submarines at sea, on their way towards the killing ground.”