Breakout Read online

  Churchill insisted upon the elaborate camouflage of a tubular steel network with string netting and interlaced coloured steel wool to protect the gun. The Germans were not deceived. From their side of the Channel they interestedly watched the gun being mounted. At this time, the invasion of Britain was a serious intention and one of the first German objectives must be to knock out the Channel guns. They did not know, however, that on 3 August 1940, Churchill visited the first 14-inch naval gun position, manned by Royal Marines, which was promptly dubbed "Winnie."

  On 15 August Junkers dive-bombed "Winnie's" gun site. They did little damage, but it was a curtain-raiser for the Battle of Britain. At that time "Winnie" was not quite operational, but a week later Lt.-Col. H. D. Fellowes fired "Winnie's" first round. It was the first shell ever to be fired across the English Channel from a gun located in Britain. It burst within 300 yards of a German battery at Cap Gris Nez. Two more followed, but then the artillery spotter plane was attacked by 50 Nazi fighters, and it was ordered back to base.

  While the two 14-inch guns were being made ready, Churchill rightly insisted that they were not enough, saying, "We must control the Dover Straits." But where were other big guns to be found?

  In July, Colonel Stewart Montague Cleave, an expert on super-heavy railway guns from World War I, gave the answer. He discovered four 13-5-inch World War 1 guns in an ordnance depot near Nottingham. They came from the old Iron Duke class battleships and their gun-barrels, weighing 97 tons, were covered in cobwebs. Their 1,400-lb. shell was too heavy to reach targets in Calais, but if they fired a lighter 1,250-lb. shell it would give them a range of 40,000 yards— nearly as far as a 14-inch. Colonel Cleave recommended using these 13.5s on railway mountings. In the case of invasion, these guns could be rapidly moved by railway track from one place to another, and retire into a tunnel when not in use.

  Impressed by their mobility and range, Churchill ordered them cleared of cobwebs and rushed to the Channel coast. One 13.5 was placed at Lydden Spout, another in a cutting outside Guston tunnel.

  On 20 September 1940, only five weeks after "Winnie" first fired at the Germans in the Pas de Calais, the first mobile gun, nicknamed "Scene Shifter," was ready for action. Another one, "Peacemaker" was ready on 27 November 1940.

  On 8 February 1941, the second 14-inch naval gun sited behind St. Margaret's village and inevitably nicknamed "Pooh," was operational. The other two 13.5 railway guns, "Gladiator" and "Bochebuster," were ready on 8 May 1941.

  By the spring of 1941, these six clumsy, slow-firing guns were the only heavy armament on the English side of the Dover Straits. They were fairly useless. The four railway guns were difficult to load and bring to bear — and "Winnie" and "Pooh" could only fire at five-minute intervals against fixed targets in France. All six guns could only reach the German batteries in the Pas de Calais by firing super-charged naval ammunition. This meant that after eighty rounds a new barrel was needed, and the three largest cranes in England had once again to be called in to lift it into position. As this complicated, lengthy operation could easily be observed by the Germans on the French coast, it needed a Cabinet decision before it was carried out.

  These difficulties meant the guns were not fired much. In addition, to shell France indiscriminately was considered a futile and unfriendly gesture to a defeated ally. The Germans, of course, had no such inhibitions. Without provocation, their heavy batteries used systematically to shell Folkestone, Dover, Ramsgate and occasionally Deal. Whenever the British guns did shell across the Straits, they always replied at once. That is why the town clerks of those four towns were always warned before the British opened fire to give out a double-siren warning of German shells, which would soon arrive.

  The situation was unsatisfactory and perilous. Obviously, fester-firing, longer-ranging, more modern guns were urgently needed. In September 1940, it was decided to construct three new batteries in the Dover area. They included batteries of 6-inch anti-convoy guns at Fan Bay with a range of 25,000 yards. When they were ready in February 1941, the 54 °Coast Regiment, commanded by Lt.-Col. J. H. Richards, was formed to man the new guns.

  Then South Foreland battery with four 9.2s was formed. The guns had a range of 31,000 yards and their rate of fire was one round per minute, compared with the five minutes of the old-fashioned 14-inch guns. When the South Foreland heavy guns were ready at the end of October 1941, it was planned to place a third and heavier battery of 15-inch guns at Wanstone Farm.

  The Germans also replaced their guns on the other side of the Channel. In June 1941, when the Russian war started, the German mobile guns were withdrawn to be replaced by heavy guns of Coast Artillery regiments in concrete emplacements. There was the Batterie Lindemann, with three 16-inch guns taken from the captured French battleship Jean Bart. They fired armour-piercing shells, which could penetrate 50 feet before exploding. The other two batteries were Batterie Todt with three 15-inch guns, and the Batterie Grossekurfurst, with four 11-inch guns.

  All the German batteries were active and most troublesome. Whenever a British battery fired at German shipping trying to scuttle through the Straits, German shells began to land in Kent less than five minutes afterwards. They seemed to have their guns permanently loaded.

  There was no secrecy about the positions of the German guns. The British knew where all of them were. On fine days, gunners like Albert Mister, "attached to a British 6-inch gun anti-convoy battery at Fan Bay, watched through their field-glasses while the Germans built gun emplacements across the Channel.

  From their daily reconnaissance flights, German Intelligence also knew the exact position of all the British batteries. To deceive the German pilots, dummy guns made of lathe and plaster were placed near the new guns. They failed in their purpose. One day a German plane came over and derisively dropped a wooden bomb on them.

  The 15-inch Wanstone battery was not ready and the six old-fashioned heavy guns were far too slow against moving targets — except for a thousand-to-one lucky shot.[5]

  If the ships hugged the French coast, the fast-firing six-inch British guns could not reach them.

  The only dangerous guns were the 9.2s at South Foreland. As with everything else in this operation, this peril depended on whether the British had sufficient warning. With good advance information, their 9.2 guns in the narrow Straits might be able to lay down an arc of fire to damage or disable the ships enough for them to be finished off by the Navy or the RAF.

  As they approached the Straits the German Captains had one great fear — was there any possibility that their reconnaissance might be proved wrong? Did the British have extra heavy long-range batteries hidden, which could turn the Dover passage into a cauldron of fire?

  V

  A GROUP CAPTAIN OBEYS ORDERS

  Just after eight o'clock it was raining in the English Channel, but the wind was moderate and the sea fairly calm. The German warships, at sea for more than ten hours, had covered 250 miles and were only fifteen minutes behind their planned timetable. Speeding at nearly thirty knots, which they had maintained most of the night, the battleships were almost exactly where they should be, in spite of the failure of their radar aids to navigation.

  No one had detected them yet. So far the bluff had succeeded. The Admiralty in London remained blissfully convinced that the battleships were still in Brest.

  Just after dawn, the German ships were off Barfleur and had almost caught up on their timetable. It was colder up-Channel than it had been at Brest but there was some February sunshine. The morning wore on with little incident. The official cameraman filmed shipboard scenes in the intervals of bright sunlight. The gun crews had a meal of lentil soup and sausage and coffee.

  They knew it would be their last hot meal for a long time. One problem to which the planning staff had paid great attention was victualling for the lengthy period at battle-stations. As the two cooks detailed for service during action could not prepare warm meals, concentrated rations were deposited at each combat station, to be
opened only on orders. For the German planners knew that combat excitement, with its physical over-exertion, can be best removed by small repeated amounts of food. The ships' doctors went round distributing slabs of chocolate and vitamin tablets.

  Everyone remained tense. For the crews of all the big ships now understood why Luftwaffe staff officers and additional A.A. crews had embarked before sailing. The decks and even the coverings of the gun turrets bristled with flak guns.

  The state of tension was revealed when Scharnhorst repeatedly made short smoke screens and shot off ranging shots in différent directions. As no RAF aircraft of any kind was in sight, the reason for this was not perceptible to the other ships. When Captain Fein of Gneisenau made a semaphore signal to the Scharnhorst inquiring why, Ciliax replied: "We are doing it for the protection of the Squadron." But there was still no sign of the RAF or the Royal Navy.

  When the task force was off the mouth of the Somme— about forty miles from Dover — the night-fighters were replaced. They flew to Holland for refuelling, ready to guard the ships again in the evening. The fighter escort was taken over by Messerschmitt 109s.

  Me-109

  The fact that the German ships were still steaming undetected in full daylight up the Channel was due to the failure of the RAF Coastal Command night patrols. This combination of bad luck and inefficiency was beginning to emerge as the pattern for the operation from the British side.

  Now it was the turn of the day patrols. At dawn and dusk every day one Spitfire patrolled from Cap Gris Nez to Flushing, another from Cap Gris Nez to Le Havre. If they sighted anything important their orders were to maintain radio silence, return to base and report. The German battleships were nearing Dieppe when the Spitfires known as the "Jim Crow" patrol took off

  Commanding "Jim Crow," from 91 Squadron stationed at Hawkinge near Manston, was Sq. Ldr. Bobby Oxspring. His squadron's task was to cover the coastal ports and try to discover any overnight movements of ships. It was called the "Milk Run."

  There was no liaison between Oxspring's squadron and the Coastal Command "Habo" patrol, which came off patrol as dawn broke, to be relieved within minutes by "Jim Crow" Spitfires. Neither was aware of each other's existence. But this lack of liaison had an even more serious aspect. Oxspring and his pilots had no knowledge of the code-word "Fuller." The RAF had become so security-minded that no one had told the "Jim Crow" squadron that this was the warning code-message for the possible emergency of a German battleship dash through the Channel. It had been unofficially passed, often on the "old boy net," to RAF controllers like Bill Igoe at Biggin Hill, Southern England's most important fighter base, but it appeared to be unknown to the duty officers at No. 11 Group at Uxbridge, which controlled the hundreds of fighter aircraft over southern England.

  When the two "Jim Crow" Spitfires went out as usual that morning, the Cap Gris Nez-Le Havre Spitfire spotted some fast-moving light craft leaving Boulogne. These were the German E-boats congregating to escort the battleships through the Straits of Dover. As he flew on towards Dieppe, clouds came right down on to the sea and as he could see nothing he returned to base. He did not know that the German battleships were steaming just behind the weather screen. Fifteen minutes later they appeared exactly where he had been patrolling.

  The second Spitfire on the Flushing run only sighted seventeen small vessels off Zeebrugge, which looked like fishing smacks. Obeying orders to maintain radio silence during flight, both planes returned to base to report what they had seen.

  This blanket radio silence appears inexplicable after the event. Yet there was a good reason for it. At that time big RAF fighter sweeps were being carried out daily over France. Hundreds of aircraft piloted by brave but young crews took part. If someone started talking over the radio, the German direction finders would soon pinpoint them at whatever height they were flying — whether at ground level or 15,000 feet — and attack. To avoid this, orders were given that everyone must be silent unless an emergency occurred.

  It was upon the interpretation of what was an "emergency" that much depended. Later that morning two RAF officers flying in Spitfires over the Channel were to put entirely different meanings on it.

  When the two "Jim Crow" Spitfires landed, British coastal radar stations were already registering numerous "blips" which seemed to come from German aircraft constantly changing course.

  But how many early radar warnings were ignored? David Jackson, a 23-year-old lance-bombardier, was in charge of a radar detachment in a wooden cabin perched on the tip of Beachy Head. For weeks their old M-set with bedstead aerials suffered from continual interference, which they called "running rabbits and railings." They were certain this persistent jamming was caused by the Germans. They switched off their old-fashioned M-sets and used the K-set, which they had had for only three months. It was a newer, more efficient short-wave radar, which the Germans did not know existed and therefore could not jam.

  Just before dawn Jackson's detachment plotted something moving too fast for shipping, and assumed it to be a heavy movement of German aircraft over the Channel. After fifteen minutes the plot faded. Although being gunners their job was to look for ships only, they decided to advise the RAF about this unusual plot. They also reported it to Naval H.Q. at Newhaven. But as their report did not concern shipping, the Wren who answered the phone was not very interested. Neither was the RAF This sort of situation occurred on many airfields and radar stations during the morning.

  Aboard the German ships everything was peaceful. The weather was still fine and there was no sign of the British. The only problem was exact navigation. One of the officers said jokingly to Giessler, "This could well be an instruction trip for quartermasters." It was so quiet that the crews began to worry. Why were the British apparently doing nothing? Was it all a dreadful trap?

  He-111

  They did not know that all morning General Martini's electronic interference had almost completely deceived the British. Two specially equipped Heinkel 111 aircraft had left Evreux, north of Paris, in complete darkness in advance of the fighters. Each had jamming equipment which could simulate twenty-five aeroplanes. Over the Channel, the recognizable search pulses of the British equipment were soon received on their cathode-ray tubes. When they switched on their jammers, British radar impulses wavered, altered their synchronized position and their amplitude, or changed occasionally to another frequency. The planes could follow these changes without difficulty.

  Both jamming planes flew parallel to the English coast to give the British radar direction finders (RDFs) the impression that German planes were circling there. This was to distract attention from the night-fighters circling over the battleships.

  As the German warships passed the mouth of the Seine the British radar stations, holding on to die deceptive impulses, did not detect them.

  Martini ordered his land-jamming installations strung along the French coast not to be switched on until 9 a.m. All known British RDF transmitters were each monitored by German groups, to which they were tuned in exactly. These stations knew precisely the behaviour of "their" British transmitters.

  They soon observed that several British transmitters began to alter theiir frequency in an attempt to avoid the jamming. Two switched off completely, then suddenly a new station between Eastbourne and Dover, which had not been observed for several months, was tuned in. This was also jammed.

  This was the first engagement in pure high-frequency war. Martini's plan was succeeding — but not completely. Although the British radar operators were confused by these counter-measures, at the same time the German computing centre at Boulogne picked up transmitters with seven to eight centimetre wavelengths. These were the new K-sets for which the Germans had no jammers.

  British radar station K-set, located at Swingate, was beginning to report that several aeroplanes were circling over a group of ships sailing at a speed of about twenty-five knots. As a result of this report, and the accumulation of evidence about radar-jamming, the British began a
t last to suspect that there might be something special going on in the Channel. It remained a suspicion. They still had no confirmation.

  At 8:25 a.m., when Wing-Cdr. M. Jarvis, Senior Controller of the radar filter room at Fighter Command headquarters at Stanmore, West of London, came on duty, a number of plots of. German aircraft were coming in from the British south coast radar network. The operations table at Fighter Command seemed to show them circling in a small area. Between 8:25 a.m. and 9:59 a.m., four plots appeared intermittently. Three seemed to indicate the presence of a single German aircraft — the fourth possibly two German aircraft.

  No one took much notice. Plots like these were common over the Channel. They usually indicated aircraft circling over coastal shipping, aircraft testing their guns or air-sea rescue planes.

  At 8:24 a.m., Swingate RAF radar station located several small groups of German aircraft, flying at 3,000 feet, twenty-five miles to the north of Le Havre. They plotted them until 9:20 a.m., then again from 9:47 a.m. to 9:59 a.m. The plotters diagnosed the "blips" as aircraft circling over ships steaming at about twenty-five knots.

  They were Colonel Galland's early duty fighters, which had joined the ships at 7:50 a.m. If the pilots had obeyed orders Beachy Head would not have picked up their plots. Their orders called for very low flying to avoid radar detection. But it was not dawn until just after 8 a.m. on that foggy winter's morning, so the German fighters did not risk much wave-hopping — and Beachy Head detected them.

  At 8:45 a.m. — twenty minutes after the first "blips" were reported — Fighter Command talked to 11 Group about them. Jarvis was particularly interested in the Swingate plot, which showed a number of aircraft circling somewhere off Le Havre. He informed 11 Group, whose job was the protection of London and the south coast, that this was probably German aircraft escorting coastal shipping. There were also reports of interference, but as this had been experienced frequently recently he paid little attention to it.