Stuart Slade: A Mighty Endeavor

Sir Edward Bridges was aghast. “Prime Minister, I must protest. A preemptory message of the kind you propose will have the most disastrous of effects upon our relations with the Dominions. A conciliatory tone, a gesture of consideration need not imply any irresolution on our part, only a desire to resolve what amounts to a very inconvenient situation for everyone. It will even be seen as a sign of strength, that we consider our position to be so secure and well-founded that it will withstand any objection made to it. We cannot drive the Dominions, Sir. We must lead them.”

“You presume much, Sir Edward. And so do the Dominions. They hide behind our skirts while profiting from Imperial Preference. This country carries the burden of their defense and little thanks we get for it. When I was Viceroy in India, I tried to discuss issues with them and they defied me. When I showed them the rod, they deferred to me. That is the way it has always been, Sir Edward; that is the way it will always be. Arrange for the message to be sent by the Colonial and Dominion Offices. Immediately.”

Or I will replace you with somebody who will do what I order. That’s what you have left unsaid, isn’t it? Bridges felt depression swoop down upon him, but mixed with it was a sense of relief. His belief that he had a way out was proven false. He was trapped here by his own existing position and his own sense of duty. He had to remain in office in order to try and ensure that the country and the Empire ran smoothly.

“Is it true?” Captain Edgar Porteous Woollcombe guessed what the answer would be before he got a response.

“It’s true. Winston is gone; Halifax is Prime Minister. He’s signed an Armistice with Germany.” Admiral James F. Summerville looked stricken, as if repeating the news somehow gave it extra weight. “You got here just in time by the look of it.”

“What do you mean, Sir?”

“I received a message from the Admiralty this morning. It advises us that an Armistice has been signed with Germany and we should govern ourselves in accordance with standing order number 03-9839. Well, I looked up that order and it says that our orders in the event of England being forced to capitulate are to continue to prosecute the war against Germany under the direction of the governments of the Commonwealth countries. In this event, we will govern our operations to sink, burn and destroy enemy forces and personnel without mercy until victory has been achieved. All signals, orders or communications from Britain directing a surrender or cessation of hostilities prior to the defeat of Germany being achieved are to be considered false and disregarded.”

“Oh.” The import of the message was clear; the fleet still in the United Kingdom was trapped but the ships abroad were being slipped off the leash. A little bit, anyway. Perhaps it would be better to say the leash was being placed in new hands.

“Exactly, Captain Woollcombe. I propose to contact the Viceroy of India to place this squadron at his disposal and await his orders. If he decides to fight on, then he has a fleet to do it with. If he decides to follow the lead from London, well, then we follow that course. But, Valiant has not yet formally joined this squadron. On paper at least, you are still part of Force H based in Gibraltar and will remain so until you report to me. That is why I wished to see you privately before you do so. If you wish, you may not report to me, quoting the current situation and your assignment as a unit of Force H. In that case, since Gibraltar is not a Dominion, you may take Valiant home. Your other alternative is to report to me, join the India Squadron and remain with us. In that case, Captain, it might be many years before you see home again.”

Woollcombe didn’t hesitate. “Admiral, Sir. If it means fighting on, I would wish to report to you and to join your squadron as per my existing orders.”

Summerville relaxed slightly. “Good man. It will be most beneficial for us to have a battleship out here. I am having a Captain’s conference in 30 minutes, please join us. It will be a chance for you to meet the other Captains in the fleet.”

Woollcombe saluted and left. Summerville left the wardroom, quietly thanking the steward for the opportunity to have this quiet meeting. An “accidental” meeting in a wardroom where Summerville was a guest was one thing; summoning Woollcombe to his bridge would have been quite another.

Once out on a bridge wing, he looked over the expanse of the naval base. Trincomalee was the one reason why the Royal Navy was here in Ceylon. It was the finest naval base this side of Singapore and dominated the Indian Ocean. Over to port was the aircraft carrier Hermes. Not one of the largest or best-equipped carriers in the world, Summerville thought, but better than nothing. At least she means I’ll have some form of air cover if we have to fight.

Then there were two heavy cruisers, the modern 8-inch gunned Cornwall and Hawkins . His third heavy cruiser, Dorsetshire, was out on patrol. His light cruisers were all in, Capetown and Colombo were sixinch gunned veterans of the Great War. They still looked lean, purposeful ships. Their older sisters, Calypso and Caradoc were more archaic looking and their design showed their age badly. Still, they could take on any of the Japanese light cruisers in a ship-to-ship pounding match. His destroyers weren’t so fortunate. All twelve were old V/W class ships and compared badly with the Japanese destroyers they might have to engage.

Despite the age of the ships, this squadron gave India a navy, a tool it could use. That was more than it had at the moment. The Indian Navy fleet consisted of two sloops and four escort vessels that were barely more than coastal gunboats. If India was going to go it alone, she would need the British ships. The corollary to that was having the ships presented to them on a plate might well make the Indians more likely to stay in. A lot depended on what the Australians intended to do. As if the young officer had been reading his mind, a Sub-Lieutenant arrived on the bridge clasping a message.

“Sir, message from Admiral Crichton in Australia.”

Summerville took the flimsy and read it carefully. It was a simple note, one that stated the Pacific Squadron would be conducting itself in accordance with 03-9839 and would comply with the directions of the Australian Government. That didn’t mean too much by itself; a fast minelayer and four destroyers were hardly crucial elements in the balance of power. What it did show was that others in the Royal Navy were preparing to carry on the fight. Suddenly, Summerville felt a lot less lonely.

“You, what’s your name?”

The Sub-Lieutenant drew himself up. “James Ladone, Sir. Signals.”

Summerville smiled at him. “I bet everybody calls you Jim Lad. How long have you been on Valiant ?

“Three months, Sir. First posting. Most people call me Jim Lad One. There’s another subbie in Signals, Sir; James Ladde. They call him Jim Lad Two.”

“Sensible. Tale a message for transmission to Admiral Crichton. Message reads. ‘Indian Ocean Squadron submitting ourselves to Indian Government Authority in accordance with 03-9839. Our actions will be determined by their decisions.’ Message ends. Got that?”

“Yes, Sir.” Ladone scuttled off with an enthusiasm that reminded Summerville of a young puppy. If Valiant was to be his flagship, he would need a signals staff and Ladone would suit him well as a junior member.

“Thank you all for coming here today. On behalf of the government of Thailand, I welcome you to our country and will endeavor not to waste your time. You are all familiar with the events in Great Britain, I assume?”