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For the second in time in less than an hour, the signals officer approached Vice Admiral L. E. Holland. The news this time was not much different.. But it proved that the game had begun.. That ever so deadly dance in the arctic seas. "Sir.. Report from Rear Admiral Wake-Walker on the Kent. They've also sighted Bismarck and Prinz Eugen. Bismarck fired five salvoes at them; One hit to Kent's aft funnel, no other damage." The lieutenant seemed a bit tense, but, then, they all were, thought Holland. Whoever thought war was man's natural state was a lunatic. "Carry on, then, Lieutenant." The lieutenant saluted and returned to signals quietly. The bridge was silent.
Prime Minister de Fossier had arrived only minutes ago; He'd been delayed in reaching the War Room. Already, though, the questions were coming. de Fossier had been a naval officer himself, once, but before the time when wirelass and the associated radio technology really came of age in naval use. Still, he'd had enough sense of it to guess that the position of the First Battlecruiser Force (BC1) was not given because it was not known... Maintaining radio silence for that group was vital if they were to successfully engage the Bismarck. He now stood beside Vice Admiral Delacroix, when Chief Forgeron again entered the room, carrying a dispatch. He saluted as a measure of respect to the Prime Minister first, as Vice Admiral Delacroix asked, "What is this one, Chief?" The man offered the dispatch over, de Fossier looking to it with interest. "Signal from HMS Kent, sir." Delacroix nodded in acknowledgement, and read it off, out loud, for the Prime Minister. "Intermittent contact with Bismarck and Prinz Eugen due to radar problems. Closed in attempt to maintain contact and lost fog cover. Bismarck commenced firing at us, five full salvos. Laid smoke and retired at best speed to fog cover; One hit to aft funnel, no shell detonation, minor damage only. HMS Suffolk maintaining contact. - Wake-Walker."
"Well," de Fossier commented, "It appears that they've definitely found her... Now it seems the matter is all one of First Battlecruiser giving a good accounting of themselves." Vice Admiral Delacroix nodded grimly. "Holland is a solid, reserved man. I trust he'll be able to engage Bismarck from the best possible angle... But I am concerned about the German ships being lost again before battle can be met." de Fossier nodded, looking to the plotting map briefly. "If all goes well, then.. We shall atleast know, very soon, how good our decisions were in the building of Trevanne." Both men had the utmost faith in the capabilities of the sailors and officers of the Royal Terentrian Navy and it's shipbuilders.. But, however irrational, there are always doubts about capabilities, before battle. Vice Admiral Delacroix thought of the British.. And Hood. A part of his mind warned him that's where his concerns should lie, but he pushed that aside. The British had dealt with cordite and flash decades ago, after all.
The seas were now very heavy, and the ships were struggling to maintain speed.. The destroyers, atleast, that was. The cruisers had a better time of it, while both the Hood and the Trevanne plowed through the swells at twenty nine knots, mostly. Sometimes speed fell down, but both Hood and Trevanne did not have much trouble maintaing the speed. They were good sea boats, and big, and Hood was performing splendidly as she pushed on her course of 295 degrees northwest. However, the destroyers were falling behind a bit. Vice Admiral Holland on the Hood ordered speed reduced to 27 knots... And then the signal light broke the darkness from Hood, the message passed on to the destroyers... "If you are unable to maintain this speed, I shall have to go on without you. You should follow at your best speed." The destroyers acknowledged, but the difference of two knots was enough, and they kept up with the cruisers and capital ships.
The time had come. Action was expected with the enemy. Hood and Trevanne were soon to engage Bismarck. Captain Nicholai Chevalier raised the talker for a general shipwide broadcast on the intercom system. Rear Admiral D'Artagnan de Lafayette stood in the background on the bridge, silently. This same scene was being repeated on every ship in the force.
"Officers and men of His Terentrian Majesty's Ship Trevanne," began Captain Chevalier.. Formal, yet filled with emotion was his voice. He had never been in combat, nor had his ship, nor most of the crew. This was their test, their day under the hammer. All around, men looked up from their duties briefly, or roused groggily in their bunks, to listen to the words of their Captain. "Vice Admiral Holland, overall commander of this force, has been receiving regular reports now for several hours from HMS Suffolk and HMS Kent regarding the location of the Kriegsmarine warships Bismarck and Prinz Eugen. Suffolk and Kent are currently trailing the Bismarck and Prinz Eugen and providing us with course and location so we can close. Our orders are to engage the Bismarck and Prinz Eugen before they can break out of the Denmark Strait, and either sink them or force them to turn back to Norway at any cost. For the sake of the lives of thousands of merchantmen in convoys across the Atlantic, Bismarck and Prinz Eugen must not, cannot escape us. Interception and action is expected to take place between One fourty and Two hundred hours this coming morning. All hands should change into clean undergarments and be prepared to don battle gear. In the name of the King and the people of Tarrantry, I expect and trust that all of you will do your utmost. That is all."
Silently, on the bridge, Rear Admiral de Lafayette grimaced. The days of the deck being spread with sand to soak up the blood were long past, but the order to change into clean undergarments, to prevent infection, was a reminder of the brutality of the engagement that was sure to lay ahead. However, among the youthful voulunteers and conscripts of the Terentrian ship Trevanne, there was little of D'Artagnan's dark introspection. Instead, a ragged cheer was raised at the Captain's words in some areas, while in others, groups of crewers spontaniously broke out into Tarrantry's national anthem. Many had heard the horrible, horrific tales of The Great War from their fathers and other relatives, of course, but they thought of that as a land battle in a different era. This was something else for them.. Gallantry and courage on the high seas, in the greatest tradition of their country. Those youthful souls and youthful faces had yet to see the terror and the horror, and all they held was expectation. On the bridge, D'Artagnan looked out into the darkness, and saw the faint outline of the Hood.. And then all he saw, was that moment in 1916, when he watched Queen Mary blow up.
The order had been passed through the force fourty five minutes prior, "Darken Ship". All of the ships, the four destroyers, the Light Cruiser Ardent, the Heavy Cruiser Imperatrice, the Trevanne, the Hood, steamed on at a steady 27 knots, black shapes against a black sky.. One that would not remain black long. Here, in approaching the polar regions, this time of year, sunrise was at 0200 hours.
And then the order was given by Vice Admiral Lancelot E. Holland, standing on the Bridge of the gallant, the mighty Hood. "Signal all ships... Go to Action Stations." He nodded to Captain Kerr, who gave the orders for Hood herself. Klaxons sounded as the call went out over the intercoms, and men raced to their positions... And on the masts of the Hood, multiple Battle Ensigns were raised, flapping smartly in the breeze, the symbol of the Royal Navy and it's might for as long as anyone could remember.
On the HTMS Trevanne less than a minute later, Captain Chevalier also gave the order.. Relayed over the intercom, "General Quarters, General Quarters, all hands to Action Stations, on the double!" The crew there, too, reacted at once. Though not the veterans on Hood who had at least seen Mers-el-Kebir and convoy escort in the 'Med, they were well trained, and reacted swiftly, jogging in a sense of orderly chaos to their posts, guns prepared, systems tested. Likewise, here, the Battle Ensigns of the Royal Terentrian Navy were brought up on the masts. The ship was made ready for combat.
On the Bridge, Rear Admiral D'Artagnan de Lafayette looked sternly to Captain Chevalier. "Captain, is my Flagship ready?" Captain Nicholai Chevalier turned to D'Artagnan, and came to attention, hand raised in salute. It was Terentrian naval tradition, harking back centuries, or longer, perhaps. "The Trevanne is fully at your command, sir!"
On the HTMS Ardent, Captain Lennard Deveraux gave the order over the Intercom personally, and swallowed a lump in his throat. Unlike most of his untested crew, and that of the Trevanne, he had read enough to know that... The real thing would be far worse than anything one could read. He could only have faith in his ship, his men, his training... And do his duty.
Outside, in the biting cold of the polar north, one Chief Forgeron, younger brother of the same man who reported dispatches and adjusted markers on the plotting board at Terentrian Naval Command's War Room, in his battle gear and cold weather clothes to boot, reached his station at the port quadruple 21" torpedo launcher. His crew had drilled and drilled, and he was one of the best torpedomen in the fleet in exercises. Like much of the crew, he was likewise eager.. In some ways, an old childhood rivalry, to show himself good at combat to his elder brother, but also to let his fish loose at a real target.. A German Battleship or Cruiser, lurking somewhere out there in the darkness.
For Captain Ellis and the crew of the Suffolk, things had gotten tense, very tense indeed. For a while, shortly after midnight, radar reported that the Bismarck had appeared to double back, heading straight for them. Captain Ellis had no choice but to turn the ship about and flee.. He couldn't stand up to that firepower, not the least. He could only hope HMS Kent could maintain contact.. But with HMS Kent's radar malfunctioning and only providing data intermittently, they had no firm contact with the German ships. When HMS Suffolk had finally turned back, the Germans were gone.. Vanished into a raging snowstorm ahead that made radar work all but impossible at that range. Repeated radar sweeps and course changes could not find them, and now the two cruisers blundered in the darkness and the waves and the driving snow, sweeping and searching the Denmark Strait for the Bismarck and Prinz Eugen, which it now seemed were coming dangerously close to slipping through the net. He had just had the message sent off that he'd lost contact. Of course, the two crusiers would keep searching.. But now, Captain Ellis could only hope, and pray, and turn his knowledge and considerable seamanship towards tracking down the Bismarck once again.
Vice Admiral Holland read the message a second time, but displayed no outward emotion, as was his usual, reserved fashion. Inside, though.. Everything was a turmoil.. A matter of decisions. He quickly made up his mind, though, and began to give orders to the signals officer. "Signal all ships to go to relaxed action stations and to prepare for a course change to a heading of 340 degrees North, and to reduce speed to twenty five knots. Also signal that if the enemy is not in sight by oh two ten hours, I will probably alter course to one hundred and eighty degrees until cruisers regain touch... And remind them.. The intent is for Hood and Trevanne to engage Bismarck, with Ardent and Imperatrice engaging Prinz Eugen." The Signals Officer wrote down the message hurridly as Lancelot E. Holland dictated it. "We'll start sending it out on the signal lights right away, sir." The Vice Admiral nodded. "Very well, then. Dismissed."
"Vice Admiral.. Prime Minister, sirs, you'd better wake up... Some very urgent news has come in." Lieutenant Commander Bertin's voice broke through the haze of Vice Admiral Delacroix's sleep, and he opened his eyes, sitting up slowly. The Prime Minister, who had announced his intention to spend the night at naval command and had done so, likewise awoke, though slower. They'd gotten somewhat less than four hours of sleep, Delacroix realized, glancing to a clock. It was actually a rather long time for him to sleep in these troubling times. "What is that news, Lieutenant Commander?" Bertin seemed unusually grim as he responded, both Vice Admiral and Prime Minister listening intently. "The Suffolk has reported she's lost contact with Bismarck and Prinz Eugen.. They may have slipped past the cruisers, sirs." Delacroix frowned deeply. To put it mildly, it was going to be a very, very long day.. All the more so if Bismarck did indeed successfully get out to ravage the convoy system.
"Sir!" came the cry from one of the bridge wings. "Signals from Hood incoming.." Both D'Artagnan and Nicholai brought up their glasses, studying for the signal, as did the lookouts. The Admiral spotted it first, and read it off calmly himself. "If Battlecruisers and Cruisers turn to heading of two hundred degrees at oh two hundred and five hours, destroyers shall continue to search Northward." Captain Chevalier frowned slightly at the message, as D'Artagnan lowered his binoculars. "Something wrong, Captain?" There was a faint laugh. "No, Admiral.. Other than the idea that Trevanne is a Battlecruiser in British eyes." That actually brought a faint smile to the white haired Admiral's face.
Vice Admiral Holland again gave orders to his signals officer. "Hood, Trevanne, and Cruisers to come together in Line Ahead formation on a heading of two hundred degrees south, maintaining twenty five knots. Destroyers shall part company to screen at intervals fifteen miles north." They, someone, anyone, had to find the Bismarck, and soon, or the Battleship and her Heavy Cruiser consort would slip away from their grasp.. And possibly out of reach of the allied navies entirely. It was an option he could not allow.
And so the Hood, the Trevanne, the Imperatrice, and the Ardent came together in line ahead on their southerly course, making a steady twenty five knots, as the destroyers sailed off into the light of the dawn.. Just minutes after the sun had risen, in the far north.
The phone buzzed from the radar plotting room, by Captain Ellis. He picked it up. "Go ahead." A moment's pause. "Bridge, Radar, sir. We have contact with two blips, one larger than the other.. We have them again, sir." Captain Ellis smiled grimly. "Coordinates?"
"Sir, signals from Suffolk. They've regained contact with the enemy." With those words, Vice Admiral Holland knew he was back in the hunt. A few moments of conversing with the navigator, after receiving the coordinates and heading and estimated speed of Bismarck and Prinz Eugen, confirming that they were only some thirty five miles north-west of those two ships. The course was ordered changed to a heading of two hundred and twenty degrees, and speed increased to twenty nine knots.
By 0341, the squadron was on a heading of 240 degrees, maintaining a steady 29 knots. In the War Room at Terentrian Naval Command, the Prime Minister and Vice Admiral Delacroix were fully awake, thanks to the steady infusions of coffee, and waiting tensely for the latest news regarding the hunt. It had been nearly an hour, now, since Suffolk had regained contact.... The First Battlecruiser Force had to be close. There were not many more hours to wait.
"Sir.. Signals from Hood. They want us to take over guide of the squadron." Odd, thought Admiral de Lafayette... Whatever for? Ah well.. Orders. Hood was already hauling out to the port, and slowing slightly. Captain Chevalier couldn't resist giving the order now so they would quickly take up their just-ordered position. "Increase to flank speed!" he announced with a slight clip to his voice. Dartagnan smiled again, faintly, as Trevanne bore down with a bone in her teeth, taking on the arctic seas and reaching thirty knots, slowly overhauling Hood.
Trevanne held the lead position in the squadron for the next fifteen minutes, as Dartagnan mused over the reasons for the order. Then... The signal came through that Hood was re-taking lead in the Squadron, and Trevanne slowed to allow Hood to overhaul them, retaking her place in the lead, in the line.
Five minutes later, the words they had been waiting for.. Either eagerly, or dreading, for the past few hours, came through. An excitable ensign caught the message, from signal flags on the Hood. "Sir! Signals from Hood..... Prepare for instant action!" Rear Admiral de Lafayette's expression tightened. Captain Chevalier brought the mike up for the intercom system. "This is the Captain.. All hands.. Prepare for Instant Action. That is all."
High in the foremast of the HTMS Trevanne, a lookout spotted two shapes over fifteen miles off. He realized what they were, and raced to get a bearing.. As soon as he had it, Near instantly, he reached for the phone for the bridge.
On the Bridge of the HTMS Trevanne, the message was received by one of the junior officers. "Sir.. Foremast lookouts report the enemy has been sighted, bearing three thirty degrees, believe seventeen miles off." Rear Admiral De Lafayette interrupted, then. "Signal Hood with the news immedietly." His voice cut with the urgency of the order, though he did not raise it. With the enemy sighted, radio silence rules no longer applied.
"Radio Message from Trevanne, sir!" Vice Admiral Holland looked to the man who had spoken.. Not with surprise, but with certainty. That could only mean one thing, as the man continued and confirmed it. "Enemy sighted, bearing 330 degrees, range seventeen miles." A second later, another officer reported the same thing, relayed from the lookouts on Hood's foremast.
They had met the enemy.
Chief Forgeron hurried in, the dispatch in his hands, thinking of his younger brother. Both the Prime Minister and Vice Admiral Delacroix looked up when he entered. Chief Forgeron stopped before them. "Sirs... We've received a message.. From Vice Admiral Holland." Those two pairs of eyes got very intense. Forgeron, by unspoken order, read. "Emergency to Admiralty, CinC Home Fleet, and Terentrian Naval Command, From BC1 - One Battleship, One heavy cruiser sighted, bearing 330 degrees, distance seventeen miles. My position 63-20 North, 31-50 West. My course 240 degrees. Speed twenty nine knots - Holland."
