John Schettler - Paradox Hour

Just after her conversion in 1930, Glorious had another brush with fate when she collided with the French liner SS Florida in a heavy fog off Gibraltar. The bow of the carrier plunged right into the liner’s port side, and the two ships seemed locked in the grip of death, though both survived. Her bow was crumpled beyond recognition, but only one man lost his life aboard Glorious in that collision. Florida took the worst of the damage, and lost 32 souls that day.

The accident started the whispered rumors again. Some said the ship had escaped the curse because her conversion to a carrier had introduced so many changes that she was really not the same ship any longer. Others argued that was foolish, she was still HMS Glorious , and that keel had still come from Harland and Wolff. When HMS Courageous met her sad end on the 17th of November, 1940, at the hands of U-29, they nodded their heads, knowing it was only a matter of time now before Glorious followed her sister ship to the grave.

“Uproarious and Outrageous are doomed ships,” they said disparaging the vessels in their strange reincarnation as carriers. Yet fingers wagged on the other side when Glorious escaped from her dangerous encounter with Scharnhorst and Gneisenau in the North Sea. Yet, as Captain Wells watched that fire burn forward, he had a sickly feeling inside. The ship’s penchant for bad luck had seen her hit in that Stuka attack, and now the situation he was in seemed perilous in ways he could not entirely fathom.

There had once been a 15-inch gun battery where that fire now burned. It was now stowed away in a warehouse in England, also destined to live again when Britain launched her last and greatest battleship, HMS Vanguard . Now Wells found himself wishing he had that gun battery back. His contingent of aircraft might have been a useful weapon in this situation, but that fire was preventing him from launching, and to do so he would have to turn into the wind in any case, right towards the shadow that now darkened his horizon.

“A bit of a pickle,” said Woodfield at his side, looking from the fire to Wells, and then out to sea where the destroyers were making their bold charge in the hopes of fending off this threat. “At least we have a little more company this time.” He nodded to the cruiser squadron steaming in close escort, Coventry off the port quarter, and Sheffield to starboard, with Gloucester following in the carrier’s wake. Two more destroyers, Fury and Fearless, were also in attendance, but they gave Wells no real comfort. The cruisers had nothing bigger than 6-inch guns, twelve each on Gloucester and Sheffield , and five on the Coventry . The distant boom and rolling thunder on the horizon told him the Germans were coming with something considerably bigger.

Wells had done everything right this time, remembering the mistakes made by Captain D’Oyly-Hughes in that first harrowing encounter with enemy warships. Hughes had the destroyers in too close, but Wells had posted three on picket, and they were now making a desperate charge at the enemy. Hughes had no air cover up, and no planes ready below decks for a quick spot. Wells had four fighters on overwatch, but they had been brushed aside by hot German pilots off the Goeben , and could serve no vital role now. He also had Swordfish ready and armed below decks, but that damnable fire forward was preventing their launch, and the German fighters were still up there somewhere, though thankfully the Stukas were gone.

“If it comes to a fight, the cruisers will do their best,” he said quietly to Woodfield. “But that ship out there looks like it will have a big walking stick. Listen to those guns!”

It was then that a runner came in with the news that Impulsive had been lost, which did nothing to raise anyone’s hopes or morale at that moment. Wells looked at his watch, noting their speed was just under 30 knots now. He figured the enemy was perhaps 30,000 meters off. His horizon was 22,000 meters, but he was seeing the high conning tower of the enemy well before that. If the Germans had a five or six not speed advantage, this might be a long chase for them if they wanted to close the range. But they were already in range of those heavy guns, or would be very soon.

“Sir, Icarus reports damage forward as well. They make their range 10,000 meters, but the Germans are still coming.”

Woodfield looked at Wells, his jaw set. “Those destroyers will all go down,” he said flatly. “They’ll have to get to 5,000 meters to launch torpedoes.”

“Signal Lieutenant Commander Maud,” said Wells. “Tell him the Germans seem to be calling our bluff. He is to make smoke and break off at once. We’ve lost one destroyer. No use losing two more. It will just have to be a foot race now, and at least we have our speed.”

“For the moment,” said Woodfield.

“What’s on your mind, Woody?”

“Well sir, that German carrier is still out there. Those Stukas may be back. I think we should try to get more Fulmars up instead of the Swordfish .”

“We’ll need both aloft soon,” said Wells. “Fire or no fire, I want planes spotted for takeoff at once. Alright, Woody, get me six fighters up first. Then we go with the torpedo bombers.”

“Very good sir.” Woodfield was off to the voice tube to call down the orders.

Wells looked at the fire again, gritting his teeth. We’re running fast, he thought, and that will be all the headwind I can give them. And they’re going to have to go right through that business forward. I’m launching whether that fire is out or not. We’ll try, by god, and if necessary we’ll do just what Lt. Commander Stevens did the last time—turn the damn planes around and launch off the aft quarter!

It was then that he saw what he feared, big, heavy rounds coming in wide off his starboard side, but with a good fix on his range. “Come five points to port, and all ships to follow,” he said, the order echoed by the helmsmen and relayed to the flag bridge. No sense giving them an easy target. It was time to squirm a bit, and he would put the ship in a zig-zag until he had his planes on deck and ready to go. He looked for his executive officer, Lovell.

“Mister Lovell, kindly sent to the W/T room and advise Admiral Somerville and the Admiralty of our present predicament. They were sending us help, but we’ve heard no word. Then send to Fury and Fearless . Have them fall back on our wake, zig-zag, and make smoke.”

It was going to be a very hard morning.

WhenLieutenant Commander Maud got the order to break off he thumped his briarwood walking stick hard on the deck of the bridge.

“Damnation!” he swore. “We’ve run up under that monster’s guns for the last fifteen minutes, and now we’re to break off? What’s the bloody range?”

“Sir, I make it 7500 yards,”

“Then steady as she goes. Make ready to fire torpedoes! We’ll not turn tail without sticking it to those bastards out there.”

He waited, the tension on the bridge obvious, and then gave a final order. “Hard to port and fire when we turn!”

Icarus launched her torpedoes as the destroyer turned, getting only five in the water as the destroyer wheeled about in a wide arc. The range was still about 7200 yards, but the enemy was coming at them fast, and they would have to run full out just to keep the range from closing further now. They were going to be in the soup for a good long while, and Maud immediately gave the order to make smoke and continue evasive maneuvers.