John Schettler - Golem 7

Then again, if this was the convoy it would be very like the British to send a brave sheep dog out like this to try and frighten off a potential threat. He decided to hold course until they got closer to make an assessment.

Twenty minutes later he had his answer.

“Ship ahead on Seetakt radar, sir.”

“One ship?”

“Aye, sir, and from the sound of its props on the hydrophones it looks to be a single cruiser, or possibly a destroyer.”

That made sense if this was his sheepdog, thought Fein. He was already within range of the contact, but firing blind at night based on radar and hydrophone readings alone was not wise. All he would do would give away his position.

“Steady as she goes, and ready on forward turrets,” he ordered. A few minutes more and he might get good optical ranging on the other ship, he thought, and his gamble paid off. Forward spotters signaled one ship ahead and Fein immediately gave a steering order.

“Come to 270 degrees rudder.”

He wanted to turn his ship to the right so as to bring all his guns to bear in a broadside. The maneuver would also get him headed in the direction he wanted to move next, west, and out into the Atlantic. The seconds ticked off as the great ship surged ahead, coming around on the new heading where she was now picking up a twenty knot headwind. The spray from her sharp bow as she lanced through the grey swells was washing back and over the massive forward turrets, which were even now completing their turn to range on the oncoming enemy ship. It was now or never, thought Fein, and he gave the order to fire.

The forwardwatch on Sheffield was staring ahead into the grey night, eyes straining at the thickening of a shadow in the distance. He had been an Able Seaman aboard “Old Shiny” as her crew affectionately called the cruiser, for eight long years now.

While the bigger battleships in the fleet had proud names like Renown , Repulse and others, all the cruisers bore the name of a city, though the city of Sheffield had waited some time before she got her first fighting ship. London, Nottingham, and Newcastle had ships at sea for centuries bearing their names, but Sheffield was only just commissioned in July of 1936, a shiny new addition to the Royal Navy cruiser fleet, and one that made the locals there equally proud. She was one of ten in her class, each named for a similar town. All together the class itself was named after the first ship off the line, that being the Southhampton .

Sheffield was called “Old Shiny” for another reason as well. All the fittings that were normally crafted in brass on the other ships in the line had been machined in stainless steel, a high chromium content metal that was very resistant to corrosion at the time. Her railings gleamed in the pale moonlight as it broke through the overhead cloud cover briefly, and the stanchions, horns and ships bells, also made of steel, winked as she rolled in the turbulent sea. Her main ship’s bell had been made by a local company in the city, Hatfield’s, and the ladies club had taken it upon themselves to make a silken Union Jack and snappy pennants for the ship as well.

She also had forward directed radar, one of the first ships in the fleet to get the new devices. It was mounted well up on the foremast, which came to be called the “cuckoo’s nest” when the odd antennas and metallic siding of the radar equipment were added there.

With this equipment she was pressed into service as a patrol ship over many a long, cold and lonesome night in the North Atlantic. Her first prize of the war had been the German freighter Gloria , which she captured and delivered to a British port. And she had distinguished herself with good service in the Norwegian campaign, going so far as to send her crew ashore armed with anything they could find to try and hold off German paratroopers in the early hours of the invasion. But her virtue remained as a patrol ship, so it was no surprise when she got the order to steam ahead.

Tonight “Shiny Sheff” was rolling forward in increasingly rough seas and, unbeknownst to her captain, she was slowly pulling away from the rest of Force H.

It was well after two in the morning when her radar antenna detected something amiss in the cold night ahead. She had contact on another ship, and word soon went out to the watches to keep a sharp eye out for the enemy. Action stations jangled the crew from their fitful sleep as the cruiser made ready for battle. Eyes were pressed hard into the rubber cups of field glasses and the watchmen scoured the angry seas ahead. The aft watch perked up as well, suddenly realizing he could no longer make out the familiar shape of Renown behind them. He was about to call the bridge and notify the captain, but events took another turn.

The shadow the forward watch had seen suddenly changed shape, growing larger and more extended. He removed his field glasses, trying to clean the sea spray from the lenses, and rubbed his eyes for good measure. When he looked again he saw an ominous silhouette, dark and threatening, as if the night itself had taken shape and form, thickening into the angled contours of a massive ship.

He gave the warning cry just as the darkness was brilliantly split open by the orange fire of many big guns. Seconds later he heard their crashing report, a loud boom in the dark. Agonizing seconds passed and he heard another, more chilling sound as heavy shells sailed over the ship, falling in her churning wake and adding to the wild white water there. Huge spumes of ocean leapt up where they fell, and one flew directly over the cuckoo’s nest where the watchman was stationed, close enough that he could feel the swoosh of the massive metal projectile as it passed overhead.

Captain Larcom was shocked at the suddenness of the attack. He was only just getting radar reports on the contact ahead when the first salvos landed near his ship. Sheffield had sailed right up on a large German warship, though the enemy was still some ways off. His mind raced, considering at once that the enemy may not yet be in range of his smaller six inch guns, and he had already been straddled by a fairly accurate barrage.

“Make to Renown ,” he said quickly. “German battlecruiser, dead ahead, and we are under fire. Turning about to lead her home.”

Then he gave the order hard a port to bring his ship about and make smoke. There was no way he could stand in a fight with this enemy alone. Once Renown came up it would be a different matter, but for the moment his only move was to cover Old Shiny with thick, black smoke and high tail it back to Force H.

How in the world did we get this far ahead, he thought? He should still have Renown in sight off his aft quarter, but by the time the watch there reported empty seas it was too late.

The cruiser heaved over, turning sharply in response to the helm, and at that moment the enemy fired again, this time with deadly effect. A single 11 inch shell struck the cruiser amidships and there was a considerable explosion. One of her stacks was blown clear away and the round splintered the whole area with shrapnel, penetrating deep into the ship.

Aboard Renown , Captain McGrigor saw the action lighting up the black horizon ahead, and heard the distant boom of heavy guns a moment thereafter. The ship had clamored to action stations and the bleary eyed men were taught at their posts, the cold night air chasing the last remnants of sleep from those who had been lucky enough to find a place in a hammock or bunk.

“Twenty degrees to port and ready on main batteries,” said McGrigor. Wee Mac was ready for a fight.

The ship turned and the captain turned to his executive officer. “Give me 28 knots or better,” he said coolly. “I’m afraid the Chief of Engineers will have to keep his ice water handy on bearing number nine.”