Derek Robinson - A Splendid Little War

“And the damned island,” Stattaford said.

“Yes. Kotlin forms an immense natural defence for the naval base. Ever since Peter the Great, Russia has been enlarging those defences, on land and at sea. Kronstadt has been called the safest, the most protected fleet base in the world.”

“Well, that’s act one,” Charles Delahaye said. “I hope there’s act two.” He had left urgent business at the Treasury to be here.

“Patience,” Fitzroy murmured.

“The defences are worth examining,” Judd said. “Kotlin, of course, is studded with forts covering the approach. On the north side a chain of forts in the sea reaches from Kotlin to the mainland, and each fort is linked to the next by a submerged breakwater, making that channel impassable to a warship of any size. On the south side of Kotlin, several fortresses have been built in the sea. Only one channel exists for vessels leaving or entering the base, and it is here.”

“Not totally safe, then,” Stattaford said. “I smell a loophole.”

“The channel is narrow,” Judd said. “It has minefields on either side. Furthermore, here, to the west, outside Kotlin Island, a thick and extensive minefield guards against intruders. And finally, on the mainland, and especially where high land gives advantage, are fortresses carrying very heavy artillery, in some cases 12-inch guns.” He laid down his pointer.

“What you’re saying,” James Weatherby said, “is, take away Kotlin Island, and the northern sea forts and their breakwaters, and the southern sea forts and their minefields, and the huge minefield out to the west, and the land forts with their 12-inch guns, take away all that, and the Russian fleet at Kronstadt is wide open to attack by the Royal Navy.”

“You’ve forgotten something,” Sir Franklyn Fletcher said. “Their fleet can see the enemy coming while he’s miles away and blow him out of the water.”

“Damn,” Weatherby said. “And I thought I had the problem solved.”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Fitzroy said. “The commander is making a very serious point.”

Judd looked at Delahaye. “Here is act two. The Red Fleet in Kronstadt could indeed blow anything out of the water, considering it has two battleships, both with 12-inch guns, a cruiser with 6-inch guns, a submarine depot ship, seven submarines and a squadron of destroyers, plus several auxiliaries. The Royal Navy’s fleet in the Baltic cannot penetrate the Kronstadt defences. At the same time, we cannot stop the Red Fleet coming out and causing havoc.”

“This is a very sad story,” Delahaye said.

“Hang on to your hats, as the Americans say,” Fitzroy told him.

“The Royal Navy sank the Red Fleet,” Judd said. “The bulk of it. In Kronstadt.”

That had the effect it deserved. Everyone straightened and stared. Most smiled, some applauded. All Judd’s careful preparation had paid off: his audience was amazed. Nothing changed in his face or his manner.

“Well done,” Weatherby said. “You’ve sawn the woman in half. Now put her together again.”

“The Navy has developed a new type of vessel, called the Coastal Motor Boat, or C.M.B.,” Judd said. “Forty-footers, hydroplane hulls, engines up to 500 h.p., speed over 40 knots. Intended for hit-and-run raids on the German and Belgian coasts, had some success but the war ended too soon. Then two C.M.B.s under Lieutenant Agar R.N. did some Secret Service work, operating out of the coast of Finland, running agents to and from Petrograd.”

“We can’t mention that, of course,” Fitzroy said. “Never happened.”

“What Agar proved was that the C.M.B.’s shallow draught — less than three feet — lets it skim over breakwaters and minefields.”

“Ahah!” Sir Franklyn said. This was rattling good stuff.

“On his own initiative, Agar took a C.M.B. out one night and sank, with a single torpedo, the Red Navy cruiser Oleg . His act was contrary to our Rules of Engagement at the time.”

“Can’t mention that, either.”

“Do shut up, Fitzroy,” Sir Franklyn said.

“However, it prompted the First Sea Lord to persuade the War Cabinet to give the Navy more freedom of action,” Judd said. “Agar was sent seven larger C.M.B.s and an R.A.F. squadron, all based on the Finnish coast. The boats penetrated Kronstadt harbour at night while the R.A.F. flew low overhead to drown the noise of the engines. They torpedoed and sank the battleships Andrei Pervozvanny and Petropavlovsk and the submarine depot ship Pamiat Ozova . Other damage was done. This action effectively removed the Red Navy’s threat to our Baltic fleet.”

They pounded the table with their fists. “Best news since the Armistice,” Stattaford said.

“Inevitably, the defences were aroused,” Judd said. “We suffered losses. Three C.M.B.s failed to return. Agar won the Victoria Cross.”

“Three C.M.B.s for two battleships and a cruiser,” Weatherby said. “Not a bad rate of exchange.”

Jonathan Fitzroy proposed a vote of thanks to the Royal Navy in general and to Commander Judd in particular. Oh, and to Lieutenant Agar.

They left. Sir Franklyn said his club was nearby and invited them to join him for lunch.

His club was the Sheldrake, and as chairman of the wine committee he had no difficulty in getting a private dining room. “No menu,” he said. “They know what to bring us. I think champagne while we’re waiting, don’t you?”

They drank to pluck and courage, dash and daring, and a brace of dreadnoughts at the bottom of the sea. Champagne cleansed the palate wonderfully. “This opens the way to Petersburg, doesn’t it?” Stattaford said. “Or Petrograd, or whatever it is.”

“Um… not necessarily,” Fitzroy said.

“What’s your problem? The Navy’s put the kibosh on Kronstadt. The capital’s wide open. Consolidate success. Rule one.”

Fitzroy swirled the remains of his champagne. “Well… it’s not as simple as that.”

“Judd made it sound simple,” Weatherby said. “No more Rules of Engagement. We can do what we like. Can’t we?”

Fitzroy made sure the door was firmly shut. “This is a very delicate matter,” he said. “You must understand that what I’m going to tell you is absolutely secret.”

“Yes, yes,” Sir Franklyn said. “Do get on.”

“It’s true that the Rules of Engagement, for the Navy in the Baltic, are highly flexible. There were losses on both sides at Kronstadt. Weapons were fired in hot blood. It would be hard to deny that a warlike state existed.”

“Not hard. Impossible,” Stattaford said.

“In fact, before our assault was launched, the War Cabinet discussed the matter,” Fitzroy said, “and the Prime Minister said that we were at war with the Bolsheviks.”

“Hurrah,” Sir Franklyn said. “Hurrah for honesty.”

“Who’s going to pay for it?” Charles Delahaye asked. He was talking to the air.

“ But ,” Fitzroy said, “and here I must remind you of your pledge of secrecy, the P.M. added that we had decided not to make war in Russia.”

“Now what in God’s name does that mean?” Weatherby demanded.

“No armies,” Sir Franklyn said. “That’s right, isn’t it? A spot of skirmishing at sea is acceptable, but we shan’t put an army ashore.” Fitzroy nodded. “Just words, then,” Sir Franklyn said.

“Good,” Delahaye said. “Words are cheap.”

“One other thing,” Fitzroy said. “Well, two things. First, we keep very quiet about Kronstadt. It’s not Trafalgar. Nobody gets excited. And second, we say nothing, nothing at all, about the P.M.’s words on war.”

“That’s absurd,” Stattaford said. “What the devil is Lloyd George playing at?”