20 May 1982 - 11 January 1940.
allanpcameron
Donor
I've decided to try to finally put this work to bed, and have decided to have it here in this forum. Obviously, there is no discussion on here, but here is the link to the discussion forum where, if you do want to chat about it, please do.
20 May 1982. 14:00hrs. South Atlantic.
Captain Alan Grose finished writing the letter to his wife and looked at his watch. There was fifteen minutes to spare before the meeting with his Heads of Department, and so he called for his steward to bring him a cup of tea. His desk was full of reports, as it always seemed to be the case. His ship, HMS Bristol (D23), had set sail on 10 May from Portsmouth. Most of the Royal Navy Task Force was in and around the Total Exclusion Zone, preparing for the invasion of the Falklands. The Admiralty had put together a small fleet of reinforcements and replacements consisting of HMS Bristol, two Type 21 frigates, HMS Avenger and HMS Active; three Leander class frigates, HMS Minerva, HMS Andromeda and HMS Penelope, accompanied by RFA Olna, a tanker and stores ship. Just south of Gibraltar they had been joined by the Type 42 destroyer, HMS Cardiff. They had departed Ascension the day before, Wednesday 19 May and were now in the South Atlantic and making steady progress at 16 knots, expecting to rendezvous with the fleet on or about the 26 May.
Having finished his tea and done some more paperwork, Captain Grose joined the senior officers for the Heads of Department meeting, the main point on the agenda was the damage control exercise that had been run that morning. Since the loss of HMS Sheffield to an Exocet missile ten days previously, the damage control exercises had been more intensive, frequent and dedicated. Captain Grose was able to ascertain that morale was pretty high throughout the ship, and that the exercise had been generally successful, though the Chief Engineer had picked up on a couple of points that needed further work. More damage control training during the night and the next day was planned, and Grose was confident that Cdr Tom Cummings, the First Officer would make sure that everything would be well organised. As the meeting was coming to an end a more general speculation about the amphibious assault on the Falklands, which was due to begin the next day, and how it would go was interrupted by a sudden and violent movement that threw the men to the deck. His first reaction was that the ship had hit a mine or been torpedoed, so violent was the shock.
The General Quarters alarm was sounding. Picking himself up Grose made for the ops room, while the others hurried off to their battle stations. Arriving in the gloom room, a little breathless from the adrenalin, he sat on the Captain’s Chair and asked, as calmly as he could for a damage report. Warning lights were flashing all over the consoles and one rating was still on the deck rolling around holding his ankle. Lieutenant William 'Taffy' Jones, who had the duty watch, quickly briefed his captain and tried to say what he had experienced, but it was outwith anything he had ever known. Various departments of the ship began to report in with damage reports and requests for information. Grose ordered Engineering to stop the ship, and Communications to contact the other ships in the group to report and to likewise hold their position until they could figure out what had happened.
Things started to get back to something like normal. There had been a few injuries, mostly broken bones, but the ships company were gradually regaining control of themselves and their ship. In due course the flashing red lights were replaced with green as it was found that the ship’s systems were all working within acceptable limits.
Lt-Cdr Tony Wilson, the communications officer, approached the captain and asked for a quick word in private. He was looking particularly pale, so Grose led him to a quiet spot, while Cdr Cummings, the First Officer, joined them at Grose’s invitation. Wilson had, as ordered, contacted the other ships which had all had the same experience. But he had had no contact with the rest of the fleet, nor with Northwood. The satellite links were all down, and there was nothing wrong with the equipment that his men could find, there just wasn’t any signal at all. He had picked up other traffic, mostly in morse code. One was a mayday from an SS Streonshalh, saying that they were being forced to abandon ship by a German battleship. Also while his code man was still working on it, there was another message which seemed like an old admiralty code, a really old code. Grose nodded for him to continue. “Well, I am obviously wrong, but I would have sworn that the Streonshalh was the last freighter the Graf Spee sank in December 1939. I don’t remember the date offhand.”
Grose asked if the Streonshalh had given its position. The position it gave was 800 miles east of Rio de Janeiro. HMS Bristol and her consorts were only about 2 days sailing, but they should have been forty three years away. Grose asked Wilson to invite the captains of the other ships to join him immediately aboard for a conference. As Wilson went off to comply, Grose talked through some of the implications with Cummings and what else might explain the anomaly. Other than science fiction they couldn’t come up with anything. They discussed what other information they would need to prove or disprove that they weren’t transported into the past, into a much bigger conflict than they had been expecting.
The conference of ships' captains got underway at 16:00hrs local time. In attendance were: Bristol: Capt Alan Grose; Cardiff: Capt Mike Harris; Avenger: Capt Hugo White; Active: Cdr Paul Canter; Andromeda: Capt James Weatherall; Minerva: Cmdr Steven Johnston; Penelope, Cmdr Peter Rickard; RFA Olna: Capt James (Bill) Bailey. Each of the ships had experienced the same odd falling sensation, and there were a number of broken or strained ankles and legs in the fleet. All ships were nonetheless fully operational and had resumed their southerly course. The situation was discussed fully, there was a noticeable change in the weather, which suggested a definite change from May to December. Once darkness fell a star shot should give some clarity about just exactly where and when they found themselves. The communications specialists had been unable to make contact with anyone, but were picking up bits and pieces of Morse, most of which appeared to be in various kinds of code. As well as getting a clear view of the sky, it was hoped that as darkness fell, radio reception would improve. The good news was that air and surface radar pictures were clear, as were the sonar returns.
The question was left then as what to do? The options were to return directly to Ascension Island and make contact with the naval and air units based there, if there were any. Or they could turn north and go back directly to Britain. Alternatively they could continue south in the hope whatever the anomaly was would reverse itself and they would have something interesting to tell Admiral Woodward when they arrived in the Total Exclusion Zone.
On the other hand, if it was indeed December 1939 they could either find the British cruisers on their way to the River Plate or could attempt to take on the Admiral Graf Spee themselves. There was a lengthy discussion concerning the last. Looking at the seven ships’ armaments it wasn’t clear if they would be able to actually take on a pocket battleship/heavy cruiser. Someone had come up with the information that the Graf Spee had six 11-inch and eight 5.9-inch guns. The thickness of its belt armour was up to 3.1 inches, the deck up to 1.8 inches and the turrets up to 5.5 inches of armour. Most of the Bristol Group ships had Exocets, but it reckoned that these would need a miracle to actually do any damage to a heavily armoured ship. To get in range to use the 4.5 inch guns, they need to close to under 24000 yards, well inside the range of Graf Spee’s guns. HMS Bristol’s Ikara might have been useful if they were carrying a nuclear depth charge, but these had been left behind. The Lynx helicopters could fire Sea Skuas, but these would be even less effectual than the Exocets.
One thing that was clear, the 7 warships, with RFA Olna, were a fantastic resource to Great Britain if she was indeed at war with Nazi Germany. Yet, even more than the ships, it was the knowledge, training and expertise of the crews that was even more valuable. Not one of the captains would think twice about going up against a pocket battleship, but the possible loss to a nation at war that a single 11 inch shell could cause had to be taken into consideration. Continuing south was the agreed course, speed would be increased to 20 knots, Olna’s top speed. Hopefully they would be able to make contact with the 1939 Royal Navy, and then all sorts of possibilities were open to them.
During the night comms were able to pick up various radio signals that could only come from 1939, as did the star sightings. The ships’ companies were abuzz with the rumours, and many a matelot lay awake considering his future, and his past.
21 May 1982. 12:00hrs. South Atlantic.
Lt Cdr Andy Johnston leaned over Leading Seaman Martin Clarke’s shoulder and asked “Still nothing?” “No, Sir, nothing from Northwood since the last message we got on the 18th." Clarke continued, "There's some morse code that doesn’t make any sense, and there was that distress call I told you about, Sir.” "Very well, Clarke, carry on" replied Johnston as the turned back into the control room of HMS Onyx. After looking at the charts for inspiration, Johnston said, “Right, Number One, we’ll surface and see if we can pick up anything at all on the radio… Sonar, any contacts?” “None sir” was the reply. “Fine, standby to surface, take her up Number One.”
The Oberon class submarine rose from the depths and its antennae vacuumed the radio waves, listening for anything that would explain the changes that had happened the previous day. Clarke had his eyes closed as the radio cycled through frequencies, at last he had something he recognised. He passed the word for the Captain.
“Sir, it’s a request for contact from HMS Bristol. They aren’t picking up anything from Northwood, and are trying to signal HMS Hermes. We must be directly in the path of the signal to have picked it up.” Johnston, offering a silent prayer of thanks, ordered him to reply with their position and request further instructions.
An hour later Johnston was in his cabin, reading the oddest communication he’d ever had, or even heard about in the Royal Navy. Although HMS Onyx had left Ascension a week ahead of the Bristol Group, he had been making much slower progress. Now, according to Captain Grose it was 8 December 1939, which meant he was at war with Nazi Germany. To make matters even more interesting, he was about 200 nautical miles ahead of the estimated position of the German pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spee which was heading for the River Plate. Until informed otherwise, the rules of engagement were to positively identify and sink the German raider. That brought a smile to his lips. You didn’t have to have a fancy nuclear boat like the Conqueror to sink Second World War vintage cruisers! Now all he had to do was figure out what and how to tell the ship’s company. “Good news and bad news, I suppose,” he thought.
9 December 1939. 13:00hrs. South Atlantic.
Kapitän zur See Langsdorff paced the open bridge going over in his mind the opportunities and threats that faced him in the River Plate area. So far he had been able to avoid contact with the British and French forces that were searching for him. By heading to the rich sea lanes off Uruguay there was every possibility that the British navy would have something there to protect the convoy he knew was about to leave. Hopefully it might just be a couple of destroyers, maybe a light cruiser, nothing too dangerous to trouble his magnificent ship.
Suddenly he found himself prostrate on the deck, the shockwave of the explosion under the keel had lifted the whole ship out of the water. As his mind tried to process how he found himself on the deck, and in terrible pain from his legs, he could hear the ship’s officers calling for damage reports, or like himself crying out in agony. He found that was unable to push himself off the deck, it seemed to one part of his mind that he must have broken both his legs. A couple of men from the bridge came over to check on him, but every attempt to get him to his feet simply incurred greater pain. Through the agony the admiral was furious with the look-outs who should have given warning of torpedo tracks, had the idiots been asleep?
The damage reports that were relayed to the bridge were calamitous. The ship’s back had been broken. The torpedo seemed to have exploded under the ship, not on the side, and there was no way the ship could be saved. Langsdorff gave the command to abandon ship, but the ship went down quickly, taking the Langsdorff and four hundred and eighty of the crew with it. In addition a number of captured merchant crews also went down with the ship that had sunk their ships and taken them prisoner.
On board HMS Onyx the sounds of the explosion of the Tigerfish torpedo, and the subsequent breaking up of the ship were played through the internal sound system. Lieutenant-Commander John Mulholland, the weapons engineer officer, had spent a long and frustrating period of time when HMS Onyx had been the submarine which had been used to test the torpedoes. Their unreliability had become a source of constant frustration for the whole crew. They had ten on board, as well as 2 Mark 20 and 11 Mark 8 torpedoes. As the submarine had worked itself into a position to ambush the German pocket-battleship, the question of how to sink it had led to a fairly heated debate among the senior staff. The Admiral Graf Spee was cruising at about 18 knots. To get a shot on it with the Mark 8 torpedoes would take a fair bit of work. Mulholland argued that using the Tigerfish would give them two bites at the cherry. They could launch the Tigerfish and guide them from a position where they could use their own active acquisition to attack the ship. If they failed, then there was still a chance to get another shot away with the Mark 8s. This plan was eventually agreed.
Mulholland and his team had then spent the next few hours giving the two chosen torpedoes some tender loving care in the hope that they could to get them to work. Mulholland would have preferred to fire off four Tigerfish, but there was no chance of getting anymore, ever, so keeping some of them in reserve was the captain’s decision. So the two fish had been fired, one of them immediately breaking its wire, and being lost. The other however did exactly what they had hoped, making Mulholland feel enormous relief, though the thought of all those men drowning didn’t give him any pleasure.
10 December 1939. 13:00hrs. South Atlantic.
Captain Hugo White felt the thrill of HMS Avenger’s speed as she raced towards the River Plate. The sea was quite calm and Avenger was making 32 knots. The Bristol Group were following behind having picked up survivors from the ill-fated Admiral Graf Spee. Captain White had been detached and tasked with making contact with HMS Ajax which should be around the River Plate at 32° south, 47° west, waiting to be joined by HMS Achilles and HMS Exeter. Commodore Henry Harwood had ordered the three cruisers to rendezvous there to wait for the arrival of Admiral Graf Spee. It was now 10 December and HMS Avenger was eating up the miles to the rendezvous. His reverie was interrupted when he was called to the ops room with a surface contact. The profile fitted HMS Ajax, and so White ordered an intercept course and for the battle ensign to be raised to ease identification.
First contact with HMS Ajax was achieved successfully. Commodore Henry Harwood and Captain Charles Woodhouse, Ajax’s captain, were invited to dine in the Type 21’s comfortable wardroom. After a tour of the ship and a flight in the Lynx around their own cruiser, Avenger accompanied HMS Ajax and to the rendezvous with HMS Achilles and in due course Exeter. The four Royal Navy ships eventually met with the rest of the Bristol Group and made for Freetown. HMS Exeter was given the task of carrying the rescued sailors from Admiral Graf Spee to the Falkland Islands, where they would have to be held incommunicado, until someone could decide what to do with them.
One of the first and important pieces of information that was passed on from the Bristol Group was that the German B-Dienst code breakers, were reading British Naval Cipher No.3. This information would be used to provide false information for a period of time until new ciphers were introduced for the whole fleet, both naval and merchant. This meant that information being passed from Force G to the rest of the fleet was highly curtailed. The decision to sail for was for Freetown was so that Admiral George d'Oyly Lyon, Commander in Chief, South Atlantic could make an assessment of the situation.
20 December 1939. 14:00hrs. Freetown, Sierra Leone.
The men of 1982 lined the rails and looked on in wonder at HMS Ark Royal, HMS Renown and 3rd Destroyer Division. There were a very great number of men on the Bristol Group ships who had made plastic models of this aircraft carrier and battlecruiser when they were children, and to see them in real life was a thrill. Likewise the men of 1939 were fascinated by these future ships. Over a couple of days information was exchanged, tours were undertaken.
The arrival of a Wessex onto the Ark Royal was greeted with enthusiasm, and a degree of wonder. Many of the matelots were exchanging stories and happily found that not much had changed in the humour and complaints of those who served in the Royal Navy. A copy of the film Battle of the River Plate was screened and met with much glee. The crew of RFA Olna, whose predecessor played the Altmark in the film, were proud owners of full copy of the film and had the proper facilities to show it.
During the journey across the Atlantic a great deal of effort went into looking at listing the issues, resources and priorities that the Bristol Group’s arrival in 1939 should be considered. Lists were made of the knowledge base of all the servicemen on board. There were a large number of specialists who were earmarked to go ashore to share the technological advances of the next forty years with British industry. In addition the Olna was proving to be a gold mine as its inventory of stocks which it was shipping to the Task Force was impressive, over and above its fuel stocks. There were a great many books, including a great deal of naval history that would be of use. One Sub-Lieutenant had brought his reference books on the battle of the Atlantic which he was studying for his Masters degree.
In discussion with Admiral d'Oyly Lyon and his staff it was decided that there were some things that were of such importance that a group of men from the Bristol Group, including Captains Grose and White would fly by seaplane back to Britain with some of the material. Photographs were taken of the materials to provide a copy in case anything should happen to the flight. The group was split between two Sunderlands giving a better chance of not losing all their eggs in one basket. Along with the two Royal Navy captains, there was a ship’s surgeon, with some medical materials; the senior intelligence officer from the Bristol Group; an RAF Flight Lieutenant who had been sailing on RFA Olna as a late replacement for the Harrier Squadron on HMS Hermes; a Captain from The Scots Guards, who’d also been on RFA Olna, who had missed sailing with his regiment due to being on leave after his marriage.
After an uncomfortable journey, both Sunderlands arrived safely in Cornwall, where the party was met by a large group of military and civilians to begin the process of sifting through the implications of the arrival of the future ships and the possible impact on the war.
23 December 1939. 09:00hrs. RAF Mount Batten. Cornwall. England.
Having arrived in the Sunderlands late the night before, the men of the Bristol Group had been given a night’s sleep before their first meeting with their reception party. The morning was spent with a very suspicious group of men from Military Intelligence who interviewed each of them separately. The possibility of this being some kind of elaborate hoax played by an enemy had to be examined, even if it seemed unlikely. Each of the Bristol Group men got more and more frustrated as the morning and its interviews dragged on. Having to tell their stories over and over again was causing them a great deal of anger. They had information that could literally mean the difference between life and death, winning the war quickly or far more slowly, even possibly losing it. However after a break for lunch, Captain Grose was invited to speak for the whole group to a select audience from various parts of the government and the military.
Among the materials that had been brought back on the Sunderlands was a television, a VCR and a set of VHS tapes of the television series, “The World At War”. While the Bristol Group men were being interviewed, or stewed as they called it, the audience had been sitting through a version of history that might unfold. They hadn’t had time to watch all of it, which would take a whole day. A recommendation of which episodes to watch had been made, covering the first part of the war, up to the fall of Singapore, and then the last couple of episodes, including the one on the Holocaust. What they had seen had horrified them.
That gave Grose an audience which was full of questions, but also ready to listen. Much thought had gone into this lecture, one that Grose and his comrades would probably have to repeat a number of times. There were a number of things that could be done that would hinder Hitler’s plans in the first part of the war. There were a number of other things that would provide the ability to win the war. Lastly there were a number of things that could be done to improve the position of the nation in a post-war world. Obviously some things could be worked on concurrently, but his team had put together a list of priorities to avoid the defeats of 1940 and 1941.
31 December 1939. 21:00hrs. Loch Ewe, Scotland.
Having sailed nine days previously from Freetown, and keeping a steady 18 knots, the Bristol Group, along with force K, arrived at Loch Ewe. The passage was uneventful, they’d deliberately steered clear of any other shipping, and their arrival at night was met by elements of Home Fleet, especially minesweepers which had been hard at work making sure the anchorage was clear. Loch Ewe had been chosen as giving the best equipped anchorage which would also inhibit German reconnaissance efforts. The need to camouflage the future ships had also been prepared for. Amongst those who were desperate to have a look around the new arrivals was the First Lord of the Admiralty, Winston Churchill and Admiral of the Fleet Alfred Dudley Pound.
The best use of these ships had been the subject of much discussion. The loss of personnel ashore would mean that at least two ships would be unable to be manned. HMS Penelope was the oldest of the Leander class ships and it was felt she would be best suited to be taken apart to look at her systems, including the Babcock and Wilcox propulsion system. It was felt that the Type 21s were the least useful ships and that HMS Active would be similarly given over to be broken up. Active was chosen over Avenger because there was evidence of greater hull cracking. The Rolls-Royce Olympus and Tyne gas turbines would be of some interest to the Navy, and the RAF. As to the rest, the suggestion that was made to the Admiralty was that they would be very useful in their primary role of Anti-Submarine Warfare. In addition they might be deployed alongside the aircraft carriers to provide them with greater radar support. A few exercises with Ark Royal personnel and aircraft on the way north had shown that this would be beneficial. HMS Onyx had made her own direct way home in solitary fashion, having been fully stored before leaving the Bristol Group, and had arrived just the day before.
There were others who were appalled at the very thought of putting these future ships, and more importantly, their crews in harm’s way. Their potential loss would be catastrophic. Cooler heads however prevailed. Designed to kill Soviet submarines, far more advanced than the U-boats of the beginning of the war, having three or four hunting groups based around the future ships, could end the battle of the Atlantic before it began. The appeal of the crews matched this desire. While many of them were resigned to their fate of winding up ashore in offices or workshops, the chance to give the Nazis a good kicking was a too good to miss.
The psychological impact on the crews of the Bristol Group had been of enormous concern to their officers, and, to their credit, that of the wartime Admiralty. Long conversations with the chaplains, from both times, and with many of the officers had taken place. There was no definitive answer to anything, but one rating, who was a keen reader of science fiction had posited the multiverse theory. Many of officers and men had taken up the idea that they were copies transferred to this version of reality to do away with tyranny. Meanwhile their true selves were continuing on their way to the Falklands conflict and would return home in due course. For some that was enough. A few hands had disappeared overboard, unable to contemplate their loss, but the vast majority were professionals getting on with the job, and dealing with things their own way.
If God or the Universe or whatever, had put them here to kick Adolf in the ball, then that was a cause they could get behind. There had been a few incidents at Freetown when the consumption of increased amounts of alcohol had allowed feelings of anger and confusion come to the surface. The chaplains and medical officers were keeping an eye on people and offering what comfort they could. Even some of them were struggling. One example was the Roman Catholic chaplain, Fr Tim McGlynn, who’d arrived on HMS Cardiff having been picked up in Gibraltar. He’d taken refuge in the bottle, his alcoholism becoming a particular cause for concern. Along with a couple of others who weren’t coping, he would be sent to a secure location where some support and care could be given.
2 January 1940. 08:00hrs. Loch Ewe. Scotland.
Winston Churchill could hardly contain himself, despite the restraints that he’d been forced to wear when he boarded the Wessex that would deliver him and his entourage onto HMS Bristol. The pilot had kindly agreed to a fly past of each of the ships that had been hurriedly camouflaged as the sun rose over Loch. The fact that it was raining helped make sure that no German eyes would see the ships of the future. Fully laden HMS Bristol displaced over 7100 tonnes, about the same size as HMS Achilles, the Leander class light cruiser which had made the journey with them. The Type 42 destroyer Cardiff displaced 4000t, in contrast to the H class destroyer HMS Hero which displaced 1900t fully loaded. The frigates Avenger and Active displaced 3200 tonnes, the Leanders were around 3000 tonnes, had no real equivalents in the 1939 navy. The Onyx was a few meters longer than a T class submarine, but with a much greater displacement. RFA Olna was simply huge to the eyes of 1940.
Winston Churchill jumped down off the Wessex and saluted the flag and then Captain Grose, who welcomed him and his party on board. As the Wessex clattered away and normal conversation was able to be resumed the First Lord of the Admiralty was quick to recognise that these visitors were a godsend to him, but at much cost to themselves. After an exhaustive tour of the ship, and what seemed like thousands of questions, Captain Grose brought the Admiralty party to the wardroom for lunch, as invited by the ship’s officers.
The main questions that came up were around the capabilities of the ships of the Bristol group, their strengths and weaknesses. The discussion beforehand had been very keen to emphasise the limitations of the technology they had brought back. While many of the systems were developments of things that were already underway, there were other elements, such as transistors that would have to be “invented”. The war stocks on hand of the missiles wouldn’t last long if they were put under constant air attack. Once those missiles, especially Sea Dart and Sea Wolf were expended it would be long time before they could be replicated. Exocet anti-ship missiles, as discussed regarding Admiral Graf Spee, would be very limited against the highly armoured capital ships, as were the smaller Sea Skua carried by the Lynx helicopters. These too would take a lot of time before they could be replicated.
The Vickers mark 8 4.5-inch guns were effective enough, but only four of the ships had them. The fact that all three Leander class frigates had no large guns, likewise HMS Onyx, had been a revelation to the Royal Navy of 1940. It felt that it was a pity that the Leanders had lost their twin Mark 6 gun mountings, replaced by the Exocets, as that had been an effective system, and was within the ability of current manufacture to replicate. The Leanders did have two 40mm Bofors guns each. The others had two Oerlikon 20mm guns for close defence against air attack, (HMS Bristol had four) all the ships were preparing to use GPMGs to supplement their anti-aircraft defences. The Sea Cat missile system on the Type 21s and the Leanders was recognised as being the most easily copied system, though it was felt that using its radar system with Bofors 40mm guns was likely to be a better, certainly quicker choice.
The helicopters, six Lynx and three Wessex, were something that the Admiralty were familiar with the concept of, however their capabilities were something that obviously had great potential. The fact that anti-submarine warfare was the main capability of most of the ships was exciting, especially knowing the potential dangers of an unrestricted U-boat campaign. The radar, which always confused the people who knew it as RDF, was far in advance of what was currently being used, and the sonar, or ASDIC, was likewise far more capable. For anti-submarine killing HMS Bristol had the Ikara system, the took some explaining, the rest of the ships all had anti-submarine torpedo launchers with Mk 46 homing torpedoes, the description of which made a number of RN personnel drool. HMS Andromeda also had five of the latest Stingray torpedoes.
Already the process of stripping the ships of all material that would go for study in various sites was underway, and the officers and men whose knowledge and expertise were considered essential were being fitted for 1940 pattern uniforms so that they would fit in with their new surroundings. As Winston was about to disembark, he was requested to say a few words to the assembled crew, words which would be recorded and conveyed to the other crews in the anchorage. Normally he liked to prepare for speech, but he was buoyed by the experience of the day, and the generous portions of whiskey provided by officers of HMS Bristol. As he came to the microphone, his well-known voice, even to those born long after he died, began…
“Dear shipmates, forgive my impertinence using this term, but it seems that we have been thrown together on this voyage into the unknown. You have entered this New Year festival far from your time, far from your family, yet I hope that you do not feel so far from home. Whether it be the ties of blood, or the friendships that have developed, or the commanding sentiment of comradeship, we face this new year, and new situation together, as men of the Royal Navy.
“We are locked in deadly struggle, and, with the most terrible weapons which science can devise, the nations advance upon each other. Here, in the midst of war, raging and roaring over all the lands and seas, creeping nearer to our hearts and homes, here, amid all the tumult, we have a task. A difficult task, a task that will call on all of us a terrible toll. But, whether 1940 or 1982, we are …, well perhaps it is best summed up in a chorus (you’ll forgive me if I don’t sing): ‘Heart of Oak are our ships, Jolly Tars are our men, We always are ready: Steady, boys, Steady! We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.’”
2 January 1940. 11:00hrs. RAF Mount Batten. Cornwall. England.
Commander Tom Allen, the senior intelligence officer on board HMS Bristol had spent the longest week of his life passing on all the information he had about the secret war of spies and intelligence. His entire career had been faced with the danger of the Soviet Union, and so his knowledge of the Second World War was limited, but the information in the book “The Double Cross System” by John Masterman had been picked over intently. It was hoped that this time around British Intelligence would have a similar success rate.
The fact that Allen had some knowledge of Bletchley Park was initially horrifying, but knowing the central importance of the Ultra to British success, and the fact that a team from the Bristol Group would be going there to help matters along was a relief. The cryptology that was used by the Royal Navy in 1982 was being examined, and the problems brought to light with the knowledge of German code breaking successes were being addressed with great urgency.
It was the matter of Soviet penetration into the Secret Intelligence Service that was the biggest surprise. Two of the books that Allen had brought along, “A Climate of Treason” by Andrew Boyle and “Their Trade is Treachery” by Chapman Pincher, gave a fairly extensive picture of Soviet success, and British failure. Allen was keen to stress that, for all he knew, the unmasking of the spies’ names in these books wouldn’t necessarily be the whole story. It was highly likely there were others passing information to the Kremlin completely unknown to MI5.
To complicate matters some of those named in these books, and from Allen’s general knowledge were, as yet in 1940 innocent, or at a very low level. What was currently going on was as much a mystery to him, as it was to MI5. At least now they had no excuse, there was obviously a problem, and it was clear that something would have to be done about it. Allen himself was sure that wouldn’t be something he’d be informed about, but he was keen to stress, that while Stalin and Hitler were still in cahoots, there was ample reason to crack down as hard on Soviet spies as it was on Nazi spies. The Cambridge spy ring was a good place to start.
The Joint Intelligence Committee, as Allen had been informed of this just this morning, had agreed to the proposal that had been suggested by him. His idea was that Britain should pretend to have a highly placed spy within the Nazi hierarchy who was feeding information. Under this cover appropriate future knowledge could be disseminated safely. The worst that could happen if the Germans found out about it is starting a mole hunt in their own leadership cadre. Allen had been careful to point out that things would change from what was “known” as events progressed or “butterflied away”.
2 January 1940. 14:00hrs. RAF Mount Batten. Cornwall. England.
It was painful, very, very painful. Flight Lieutenant Robin Smith finished his lunch and was heading back to the office where he seemed to having been banging his head against a brick wall for a week. As a Harrier pilot in 1 Squadron, he had missed joining the rest of his squadron when they’d left to go off to HMS Hermes. He’d had been on an exchange visit in America. When he’d returned, post haste, he’d been put aboard RFA Olna, with a few ground crew from the squadron to act as battle replacements, should it be necessary. So he had missed one war, and here he was in another, but not exactly as he had expected. Instead of being given a Spitfire and shooting down Nazis, it seemed he was at war with his own service.
It was clear that his assessment of the RAF’s performance in the war was not to the liking of the Air Ministry or the most senior officers of the RAF. Hugh Dowding, the commander of Fighter Command was the exception, he was prepared to listen, probably because his command had done very well, from Smith’s point of view. Bomber Command, on the other hand, he expected would sooner burn him as a heretic than anything else.
It was fair to say that watching “The World At War” had been a bit counter-productive for the Bomber Command officers. They could see the destruction of German cities and it seemed to them that this was exactly what Strategic Bombing was all about. The fact that it didn’t really get going until 1944, and it cost a huge amount of casualties among the air-crew, and in fact didn’t really stop the war, didn’t seem to matter one iota. One of them had actually said to him, in front of others, “Ah well, old boy, once we get the Atom Bomb, that will hurry things along much more quickly, won’t it?” Smith had been gobsmacked. They seemed to have no clue about the failures and costs of their obsession with “the bomber always getting through”.
They had got fixated about fleets of Lancasters dropping Tall Boys with pin-point accuracy and weren’t prepared to listen to the very real, and very quick, small changes that could be made now, that would improve things enough to stop the appalling losses this May in the Advanced Air Component and Advanced Air Striking Component in France. Like all pilots who’d been trained in the RAF, Smith had learned about the mistakes, and bravery of the pilots, flying in Battles and Blenheims, and their complete failure to achieve anything, except die in large numbers. As a Harrier pilot he’d tried to explain the importance of Close Air Support, used successfully by the Luftwaffe, but not really employed by the RAF until well into the desert campaigns in 1942. He’d have been as well beating his head against a brick wall for all the good it was doing. He’s spoken to one of the Fleet Air Arm pilots who’d arrived along with him from Freetown about his conversations. It seemed the FAA were open to what they were being told, but they’d laughed together when they’d tried to imagine how the RAF types would have reacted to getting the same information from the Royal Naval Air Branch!
Taking a deep breath, Smith opened the door to office, and was surprised to find an RAF Officer he hadn’t met before, alone, sitting smoking a cigarette. “Flight Lieutenant Smith, pleased to meet you. My name is Douglas Evill. Evill by name, but not by nature I hope.” Noticing the braid that signified an Air Vice Marshall, Smith came to attention and saluted. “Now, now, none that!” he said, motioning him to a chair. “It seems that my colleagues have been giving you something of a hard time, Flight Lieutenant, or may I call you Robin?” “Of course sir, if you prefer.” Smith’s response came from that same place of frustration that he’d been feeling since he’d arrived in Cornwall. Evill nodded, “It seems that you now have friends in high places. A heavily censored report you wrote crossed the desk of Sir Kingsley Wood, the Secretary of State for Air, he particularly noted the concerns you raised over my bailiwick in France, and sent me down to “get to the heart of the matter”. Now that was the single most surprising exercise of my life, to get into this building and to meet you, Robin.” “I can imagine, Sir! Though not as surprising a time travel I expect.”
“Indeed, there you are! And here you are! I’ve been having a bit of a chat over lunch with the men who you’ve been with the last few days, and I have to say, that I’m a bit surprised at their response to you. Not at all what I expected. Nothing in the manner of ‘manna from heaven’, ‘a wonderful stroke of luck’, which makes me fear a little for the state of the Royal Air Force. I wonder, if you’d mind terribly talking me through what you’ve been trying to say, but perhaps haven’t been listened to? I can assure you that I will give you a fair hearing. Now if you find me agreeable I’ve been assigned to be your liaison. No more banging your head against brick walls, what!”
Smith took a deep breath, “Well Sir, I have been banging on about a number of things. It’s no good looking at what might be available in three or four years. We have until May at the latest before the Nazi hammer falls, April if you count Norway. What can and needs to be done in three months to make us ready for what’s coming?
“If there is just one thing that could be done now more than anything else to make the biggest difference, is get Castle Bromwich to produce Spitfires now. You might have to fire Lord Nuffield to do it, but the sooner that factory can contribute its production the better. In my time it was July before the first Spitfires were produced, but we have to get them moving by the end of January. Even if they only produce fifty a month from February to April, an extra 150 Spitfires in May will make a huge difference. That is the one single thing that I can’t emphasise enough.
“There are a few simple fixes to increase the effectiveness of the planes already in service. I’ve mentioned in my report a way of fixing the Spitfire’s problem with the engine cutting out in negative G manoeuvres. Putting De Havilland constant speed propellers on all the fighters will give them better performance. Sort out the delays with getting the 20mm canon working, even if you have to beg the French for their help, but start putting canons in the fighters as soon as possible, it will give them a much better chance to shoot down Jerries.
“In terms of training the “finger-four” formation needs to be practised rather than the three plane “vic”. We should be setting up a “Red Flag” exercise with the home based squadrons. The idea is to get pilots to have an intensive time of battle-like conditions, with as much realism as possible. I would also propose a “Top Gun” school. This means having one squadron which will mimic German tactics, called the aggressors. The best pilots from each squadron will be brought together to go up against them, hopefully learning how to overcome them. Dogfighting is a skill that can make all the difference. Remember, many of the Luftwaffe’s pilots have combat experience in Spain and Poland. That means they already have an advantage. We have to close that gap as quickly as possible.
“In the short term every Spitfire and Hurricane pilot should go up against the bomber squadrons to learn how to shoot accurately, and particularly learn deflection shooting. Much greater emphasis must be placed on gunnery training. If the fighters start to get 20mm canons instead of machine guns, accurate fire will be all the more crucial. Pilots have to learn to not waste their limited ammo by missing the targets completely. There’s a lot more I could say about that, but well…
“The bombers take terrible losses, are basically ineffective for the best part of four years, and DON’T win the war! How long does it take to train the pilot, navigator and gunner in a Battle? I would guess about a year, right? Though most men on squadron will be in for a couple of years at least. You have about 18 squadrons of Battles designated for France. That is a lot of aircrew, a huge investment in training and skills. The Battles will be withdrawn from frontline service after the battle of France, because they are too vulnerable, too many are shot down by flak and Me 109s. Too many excellent men are lost, and for no gain. You have to withdraw the Battles now and save some of your best trained aircrew. You might consider is using a whole lot of the planes in Training Command, especially when the Empire Training Scheme gets up and running. That is about all they are useful for.
“OK, so what do you do if you have withdrawn 18 squadrons of Battles? My expertise is Close Air Support that is what I’ve been trained to do. I think it would be possible to teach some of the basic skills quickly enough to be able to offer the army in France something, rather than the nothing we would otherwise. We have to blunt the German edge in tank and mobile warfare. If Hawker could adapt the wings of Hurricanes with hard points to carry bombs, then they could do ground support missions as what we call Fighter Bombers. Stop production of the Battles immediately, and use the Merlins meant for them to make more Hurricanes. They were called ‘Hurribombers’ where I come from. If we lose one to ground fire, at least it is only one crewman killed or captured, not the three in a Battle. It might be worth asking the current Battle navigators to retrain as pilots, even ask the air gunners. They've been through a lot of training already, so hopefully pilot training for them could be quicker. You’ll need a lot more pilots and they could be a good source for some quickly.
“You’ve already learned that unescorted daylight bombing is suicidal. I’ve written down some ideas for better navigation at night so that your bombs fall something closer than five miles from the target. We are some distance from radars being fitted, but there is are things called Gee and Oboe that could be brought forward. The German’s have a method based on the Lorenz system which would be a good start. Though I’m told that there aren’t enough oscilloscopes, sorry, oscillographs. I could go on, Sir, but you look a bit overwhelmed.”
The Air Vice Marshall hid his smile while lighting another cigarette. “Well, well, Robin that was about as passionate a speech I’ve ever heard. And I can see why my colleagues weren’t of a mind to listen. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off? I have to get back to London and place a very big bomb under the Air Ministry, and another under Lord Nuffield. I would love for you to come along and see the faces of people who are not going to like the medicine you’re prescribing. But dear chap, pleased be assured that this medicine will be forced down their throats, whether they like it or not. You have my word.” “Thank you Sir,” was as much as Smith could muster.
2 January 1940. 15:00hrs. RAF Mount Batten. Cornwall. England.
Captain Iain Murray, Captain of the Scots Guards, had been on board RFA Olna instead of Queen Elizabeth II with his regiment due to his recent and now distant nuptials. Murray’s reception by the army’s representatives who’d been gathered to listen to the recommendations from history had been very well received. He definitely fitted the bill as “one of us.” The fact that he was a guardsman, from a good family, with the correct alma maters, made his communication with the representatives of the army of 1940 very smooth. This afternoon’s session was a final read through the report that would be put to the Army Council regarding the priorities for making the army as ready as possible for the blooding that was to come.
There were three basic recommendations, which it was hoped would give the army a fighting chance against the Germans when they came. There were many other recommendations about weapons and their production that would be part of supplementary reports. The army hadn’t changed that much from 1940 to 1982 in its love for training. The first recommendation was increased training, something that no-one would likely complain about. The types of training however was a little more radical. Basically it was proposed that all the soldiers in France, and those preparing to go to France, would spend the next three months doing a serious of training exercises. Instead of wasting much of their time digging trenches along the Franco-Belgian borders as they did during the phoney war as Murray knew it, the chances to exercise had to be made the most of. Even it was going to be a harsh winter and spring.
Murray happened to have with him the 1981 serious of pamphlets “Training for War.” These dealt with the principles and organisation of training, then individual training and finally collective training. In essence what these pamphlet recommended was a logical progression from the 1937 “Infantry training, training and war.” The fundamental difference between them was that in 1937 it was expected that each regiment was responsible for its own training, and that gave a lot of latitude for the officer responsible making for an unevenness between the levels of training from one regiment to another. Whereas in 1981, everyone in the army was expected to have the same level of basic training, and that “battle school” an innovation of World War Two, was an essential part of that training.
It had been learned that troops had to be preconditioned to the disorientating physical environment of the battlefield. The best way of overcoming the inherently stressful conditions was for them to learn rote actions that they could repeat as ordered almost without thinking. This school would be set up and run by the Royal Marines that had arrived in HMS Onyx, members of the SBS, who would be well capable of setting up and running a battle school at Fort George, outside Inverness. Two senior sergeants from each infantry Battalion destined for France would be detached to the school for a period of three weeks during January. They would spend the first part learning the drills themselves, and then the second part learning how to teach it. Representatives of each training cadre in the army would then go through the same process so that all the new recruits to the army would learn them too as part of their basic training.
In the month of February these sergeants would train their fellow NCOs and junior officers, so that in March every infantry battalion would learn these drills at individual, squad, platoon and company level. During the months of January and February the basics of physical fitness and weapon proficiency would be worked on with the infantrymen until the trainers had been trained.
Meanwhile Murray would organise a school for company and Battalion officers. One Major and one Captain from each infantry battalion would then have the three week course starting later in January. Much of the work of this school would be to do with communication, leadership, and combined arms cooperation. This would take place at Sandhurst, so that that organisation would benefit from the methodology. The officers who passed this training course would then be organised as Brigade teams to pass that training onto their fellow officers during the rest of February into March.
The last part of the process, due to happen at the end of February into early March, would be a week’s “war school” for all the senior officers: Brigadiers, Divisional, Corps and Army Commanders. By this time it should be clear what the BEF’s strategy would be, in and of itself, and in relation to the French and probably Belgian allies.
That would mean that during the month of April comprehensive Battalion, Brigade, Divisional and finally Army series of exercises could be conducted, hopefully with French participation. Four months was all they had to prepare to Fall Gleb, they had to make the most of that time.
The second recommendation was regarding “C3I”: Command, Control, Communications and Intelligence. If the BEF had been defeated in May 1940 it was due in no small part to its failure in these matters. They had not foreseen how German doctrine and organisation would interact with their own on the battlefield. Hopefully the hindsight that the Bristol Group had brought would fix that problem. But historically the BEF’s C3I could not cope with the tempo of operations that the Germans imposed upon it. Amongst the recommendations was that the C-in-C of all forces in France, General Gort, should not also have the responsibility of the army commander. So within the BEF, there should be created First Army, with its own commander-in-chief. In due course it was expected that a second, even a third army would be created, with would require an Army Group commander. C-in-C of the BEF would then be free to deal with the whole, while the army commander got on with that specific job. Part of the hope for the “war school” mentioned in training, was that each Corps staff should be adequate for the job they were entrusted with. The deficit of training of senior officers was a problem that needed to be addressed and could only be done so but the leadership of the army.
There was a reliance on cable communications by the BEF, not least on the French telephone system, that was dangerous. It was clear that the army did not have enough radios to be able to do its job effectively. The Royal Corps of Signals needed to be strengthened as did the signals platoon in each battalion. Attention should be given to radio security, and Murray had a tried and tested system used by the army in 1982 that should be introduced, rather than the time consuming ciphers currently used. Getting to the point where each Company had radio communications, that all formations, including the RE Field Companies, were tied into a network was of paramount importance. This would be particularly helpful in the combined arms operations that were envisaged. Everything possible should be done to acquire enough Wireless Sets No 11 and 18 and fully trained operators by May 1940.
Unless something drastic took place, the Intelligence part of the equation should be very strong. However the danger could be that there would be an over-reliance on what the Germans should do, as opposed to what they were actually doing. So while strategically the German plan was understood, but it was the role of Intelligence to make sure that the German ability to be creative and flexible, didn’t outwit them this time around. The BEF’s intercept service should be strengthened by having enough linguists, who were well versed in German military terms, so that plain text tactical messages intercepted, could be utilised, but again the need for the dissemination of that intelligence between the intercept stations, GHQ and lower headquarters would have to be well organised and trained.
The third and final recommendation was more of a medium to long term issue. The various battles and campaigns of World War Two had seen a number of experiments with the Table of Organisation and Equipment (TOE) of the army from squad to divisional level. What the army had finished the war with in 1945 had then become the foundation of the army all the way up to 1982. Murray’s description of that TOE was to be examined and ideally moved towards as soon as practicable. Trying to implement wholescale changes at this point would simply confuse matters, but since First Armoured Division was still in the process of formation, replacing the “support group” with an infantry Brigade, preferably “mechanised” could be done and still allow it to arrive in France by the end of April. Two Divisions (5oth (Northumbrian) and 51st (Highland)) should be chosen as the first two infantry Divisions to attempt to increase their mechanisation. They would then join First Armoured Division as a “Mechanised Corps.”
As the group finished off their deliberations and found a consensus among themselves about these recommendations, Murray wondered if they had enough time, and motivation to be able to stand up to Hitler’s armies. He was reminded of a quote from Claude Auchinleck that the British Army in 1940 had encountered in the Germans a foe as radical as their forebears had found in Napoleon’s Grand Armée. It had taken a lot of learning before the army in the early 19th Century had finally been able to best Napoleon’s troops. Murray hoped that the recommendations that were being proposed would short-cut some of the most expensive lessons so hard won by 1945. That would only happen as long as the army as a whole would be prepared to listen and change. If there was one thing the British army of 1940 needed to do, it needed to change.
3 January 1940. 14:00hrs. 10 Downing Street. London. England.
Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain was sitting contemplating his future over a cup of tea. The War Cabinet had spent the morning being fully briefed on the events that had led to the sinking of the Admiral Graf Spee and the arrival of the Bristol Group. The information that they had given, and the hope they held out had made for an interesting discussion. Lord Halifax had, perhaps simply playing devil’s advocate, explored the question of whether the long term future of the British Empire would be better served by withdrawing from the agreements with France and making a separate peace with Hitler. The Germans were beastly and would have to be stopped somehow, there was no question of that. The question however, was whether or not defeating them was worth the cost of an impoverished and weakened England, divesting itself of its colonial possessions with indecent haste. Was that outcome better or worse than the loss of face in abandoning treaty obligations?
There was a strong disagreement about this line of thinking in the cabinet. A much rosier point of view was given by Winston Churchill, First Lord of the Admiralty. In his view, the information, if properly distributed, and there was a big choice to be made regarding the French, then the German’s expansionism could be brought to a resounding stop. As some of the new equipment was brought into production, it might well be possible to see the Nazi regime collapse within a year or two. Then the Empire would be in a much stronger position, with the opportunity to become the world leader in science and technology.
Eventually this line of argument won the day, and the decision was made to establish an Oversight Committee under the chairmanship of Baron Maurice Hankey, Minister without Portfolio. The committee was given the task of making the most of the information that had fallen into their laps. The job ultimately would be to make sure that all elements of the nation would work together to bring success to the military forces that would take the brunt of the fighting.
However, what was really on the Prime Minister’s mind was the fact that the future Navy doctor had examined him the other day. It was known that he had died of cancer and the hope was that an early diagnosis might give him a chance of recovery. The best men from Harley Street would no doubt confirm the diagnosis of cancer. Chamberlain was no coward, and the possibility of going under the knife wasn’t what he was thinking about. War. Total, relentless and awful war. He knew that he wasn’t the right man for the job. He put down his cup and picked up the telephone, asking his private secretary to see if perhaps he might have an audience with the King.
4 January 1940. 10:00hrs. The Admiralty. London, England.
Lieutenant Charles Parker checked his notes once more as he waited to be called into the conference room. His studies on the Battle of the Atlantic were well advanced and he had been nearing completing his Masters Degree in History. Now he was right in the middle of that very history he’d studied. He had packed some of the most important sources with him when he had set sail for the Falklands on HMS Andromeda hoping to do some work when he had a chance. Thank goodness he had, because it was now worth its weight in gold.
As he had sailed up from Freetown he had time to organise his study materials so he could present them to the Naval Intelligence Division in London. The trip south from Loch Ewe in an uncomfortable steam train compartment had been a revelation, seeing Britain in January 1940 pass his window. London itself was suffering from a particularly cold winter, as was all of Europe, if there was one thing that he’d forgotten was the ubiquitous coal smoke from chimneys.
He was wearing a downtime uniform, which was slightly ill-fitting, and this added to his discomfort. The door opened and a pretty Wren invited him to come in. Picking up his cap from the chair beside him, he marched into the room and gave his best salute. He was immediately put at ease by the chairman, a rear admiral. “We’ve a lot to get through, Lieutenant, so pull up a chair and explain this goldmine you’ve given us.”
“Thank you, Sir. What you have before you are photocopies of the war diaries of the German Naval Staff Operations Division for 1940. These were translated by the American’s Office of Naval Intelligence after the end of the war and declassified in 1972. These particular copies are ones I made from the original in the library at Dartmouth and are part of my research into the early stages of the Battle of the Atlantic. Each folder covers one calendar month. If I may… (he picked up the January 1940 folder and turned to 4 January, that very day)…it notes that U30 is southeast of Ireland and U32 west of the Shetlands. U46 is in the Atlantic and U56 and U58 are in the North Sea. U58 was responsible for sinking Swedish vessel Lars Magnus Trozelli on New Year’s Day and Swedish vessel Svarton yesterday. Now it doesn’t give us exact coordinates, but it is enough to give us an idea of where to look for them.
“Looking at tomorrow’s entry you will see U30 is in the Irish Sea, U32 is in the North Channel, and U46 is on its return passage near the Hebrides, and U19 is on passage towards Rattray Head. We know for example it was U30 that was responsible for damaging HMS Barnham in December. I’ve tried to make charts of the probable locations of the various submarines over the next couple of weeks.
“I believe Captain Grose has requested permission to make a demonstration of our ASW abilities. There is a huge amount of information in these diaries, a lot of it will be really useful, I believe that such a demonstration might be particularly effective in the second half of January.
“May I also point out that these diaries also shows the German penetration of the Naval Cipher.” (There was an audible harrumph from more than one of those at the meeting) These detailed reports will obviously be less accurate the more things change, you’ll notice that there is information about HMS Hood, Warspite, Rodney and Suffolk. As we change the code and start to act on some of the intelligence this will become less and less useful. Above all I strongly urge you to examine the Norwegian campaign. If we can seriously interdict that and keep Norway out of the hands of the Nazis, that alone will be a huge game changer to the war.”
The meeting proceeded for another few hours, Parker fielding as many questions as he could, including one "what is a photocopy?" One outcome was that Commodore Grose’s plan for a demonstration was agreed.
5 January 1940. 10:00hrs. Hatfield. Hertfordshire. England.
Geoffrey de Havilland rose from his desk as his visitor entered the office. “Wilfred, to what do I owe the honour seeing you again so soon?”
Air Chief Marshal Sir Wilfred R Freeman: Thank you for seeing me at such short notice Mr de Havilland, there are a couple of pressing matters that we’d appreciate your help with. As you know we’ve been making changes to the Merlin to allow it to take the Rotol propeller. However there are a great many Spitfires and Hurricanes already in service which don’t have the improved propeller. We were wondering about whether your company might be able to fit your constant speed propellers onto those aircraft, as a matter of urgency?
GdH: I believe that should be possible. If I remember correctly the mechanism will be the same as our Hydromatic propeller, but we’ll need to have a Spitfire and a Hurricane to test them on. If you were able to have one of each here, I’ll get in touch with our factory in Bolton, and get a team to bring a couple of sets down so we can get to work immediately.
WF: That is wonderful, there is a Spitfire pilot standing by, so I shall telephone his station and get him on his way as soon as possible. I’ll need to make another call to get a Hurricane, but that will be no problem. Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, there is another thing. Since our meeting on the First, we have decided to go further than just the prototype we agreed on then. I have here a contract under Specification B.1/40 for 150 bomber-reconnaissance variants of the DH.98. In addition we have another Specification F.21/40 for a long range fighter armed with four 20mm cannon and four .303 machine guns in the nose. It should be able to carry an Airborne Interception equipment to enable it be a night fighter. We have an initial order for 150 of these. To be perfectly honest, we believe that this could be a world beating aircraft, and these 300 orders are the first of many.
GdH: Well, that is extraordinarily excellent news! I will inform Eric Bishop immediately to let him know to get his pencils sharpened.
WF: I’m glad to be the bearer of good news. I would urge a sense of urgency for Mr Bishop, and indeed for your whole company. If you could get the design work as far forward as possible, and we might be able to offer some help with that. We would really love to see a prototype in the summer, and if all goes well pre-production before the end of the year. If it was in squadron service by spring of next year, we would be most grateful.
GdH: I really can’t promise you any timings as this point, but we will certainly do our best. This help you’re offering, could you say a little more?
WF: Not at this point, there’s a bit of a sea change about to happen, and your aircraft will be at the cutting edge of where we want to be in 1941. So please expect a lot of help, and probably some pressure too.
GdH: Help and pressure. An interesting combination. Do you have time for some tea Wilfred?
WF: There’s always time for tea, though if you wouldn’t mind contacting Bolton about the propellers first.
GdH: My, it really is a priority.
The Spitfire arrived at Hatfield later that day, joined the following day by a Hurricane. It took four days for de Havilland technicians to make the necessary changes. With the new propeller the modified Spitfire had a shorter take-off run, was much faster in climb, and its maximum altitude increased by 7,000 feet, the same performance as those equipped with the Rotol propeller. Similar improvements were made to the Hurricane’s performance.
Two days after that a convoy of trucks departed the de Havilland factory in Bolton aiming for the various RAF stations where Spitfires were based. Each truck carried six conversion units. The de Havilland engineers did the conversions, training RAF fitters as they did so. They then moved onto the next station. Each Spitfire squadron was thus equipped within three weeks of the initial meeting. Once the Spitfires had been converted work began on the Hurricane Squadrons. Those currently based in France were first, flying back for two days, having the installation done, and then returning to their forward bases.
While they were back in the UK, the pilots were given a series of lectures about proposed changes to the directives on formation flying, aerial tactics and some updated information about the German aircraft they would be facing. Each Squadron was asked to exercise with a four ship formation rather than three. They were paired with Battle or Blenheim Squadrons to practice attacks, and occasionally with a visiting Spitfire Squadron for practicing dogfighting.
6 January 1940. 10:00hrs. Derby. England.
Ernest Hives rose from his desk in the Rolls Royce factory as his visitor entered the office. “Air Chief Marshal, to what do I owe the honour?”
Air Chief Marshal Sir Wilfred R Freeman: Thank you for seeing me at such short notice Mr Hives. I’d like to talk about production of the Merlin if you don’t mind.
EH: Of course, sir. How can I help?
WF: I see from your last report that the shadow factories in Crewe and Glasgow have started production, which is excellent news. There are a number of changes to the planned aircraft production coming before the end of the month and I wanted to give you some pre-warning personally. You may have heard that Lord Nuffield is no longer in charge of the factory at Castle Bromwich?
EH: That must have been quite a conversation between the Prime Minister and his Lordship!
WF: I believe it was, and I’m not sure his Lordship quite knows what happened. A team from Vickers will be arriving there as we speak. However, back to the matter at hand. It is essential that we get as many Spitfires and Hurricanes into the air as quickly as possible. For that we will need to increase the production of your Merlins. The fourth shadow factory planned for Rolls Royce is at Trafford Park, and will be run by Ford, I believe. Currently it isn’t due to start production until early next year. We have been looking at that, and it really has to change. I know it will be difficult to get the machine tools, and train the workforce, but we need that factory as soon as humanly possible. I wonder if I could urge you, in the strongest possible terms to work with Ford and get things moving much more quickly.
EH: I suppose we can do something about it. I will get a team onto it and light a fuse under them.
WF: Thank you, we’d appreciate it. There have been some developments in the last month regarding the war, and so there are a few other things we would appreciate your help with. I’m afraid it is a mixture of both good and bad news.
EH: Why don’t you give me the bad new first, Air Chief Marshall?
WF: We are going to concentrate all of our efforts on just a few aircraft, and therefore engines. Therefore I would urge you to suspend all work on the Peregrine and Vulture engines, just as you have already with the Exe. The Whirlwind and the Manchester are both going to be cancelled. We need you to put all your design expertise into improving the Merlin and developing the Griffon.
EH: Well, that isn’t exactly bad news, I’ve been thinking along the same lines myself, though Westland and Avro can’t be too happy.
WF: We have other plans for those two companies that should satisfy them. Avro will move to a four engined type, based around the Manchester, but we expect it to have four Merlins. I can’t say too much about Westland at the moment. However we have some further bad news, some of your design team are going to be “requisitioned” into another project. This will pay great dividends for you as a company in the future, and again I can’t say too much more on this, but, believe me when I tell you that the name of Rolls Royce will continue to be associated with cutting edge technology for decades to come.
EH: Well, that is intriguing, I have to say. There will be a problem if you are asking us to develop the Merlin and Griffon and at the same time taking away some of my designers.
WF: I understand your concern, however I believe we may be able to compensate you in other ways, but at the moment, again, I can’t say any more. Now, further bad news. It is the desire of His Majesty’s Government that the production of the Merlin should be increased dramatically. To that end we would like you to enter into negotiations with the Packard Motor Car Company in the United States to licence production of the Merlin in America. Now, I know that is something that you have avoided before, and I understand your reasons for it. However such are the numbers of aircraft that are going to be built using the Merlin, and later the Griffon that having another source of engines will be necessary. There is a particular fighter aircraft that we hope will be designed and built in the USA that will be bought by the RAF, but we want it to have your engine.
EH: If I refuse, will I have a telephone conversation with the Prime Minister, as Lord Nuffield did?
WF: I doubt it, but I can’t rule it out. At this point, we would simply want you to begin the process of inquiry about the possibility. We still have to get agreement about the aircraft, and until that is resolved, we can’t be sure about the engine. It would however make life a little easier for the Canadians if they could ship Merlins up from America, rather than across the Atlantic.
EH: When you put it like that, I will of course look into what would be involved. Now I hope you might have some good news, to sweeten this somewhat bitter pill I’m having to swallow.
WF: Well, actually yes. As well as vastly increased orders for the Merlin, and the Griffon in due course, we would also like to have a de-rated Merlin IIIs for the use in land vehicles, specifically tanks. This isn’t exactly my area of expertise, but getting some kind of powerful engine for their tanks has got the Army into a bit of a tizzy. It seems that someone has come up with the brilliant plan to adapt the Merlin. To that end I have here a letter of credit for £1 million pounds to make it happen. I would suggest entering into an agreement with Rover at Tyseley for them to open up a plant for manufacturing, but with your company taking the lead in getting it ready for production. It may be that some of your chassis design team might fit the job for designing tanks and their engines.
EH: A million pounds is quite a sweetener! Once more, I will ask some of my people to look into it. So let me make sure I’ve got this right. You want us to suspend all work on everything bar the Merlin and Griffon. You are going to steal some of my designers for something very hush hush. We’ve to explore a licence deal with the Americans, and you want us to build a tank engine based on the Merlin. Is that about it?
WF: Basically yes, but don’t forget getting Trafford Park up and running as soon as possible. Otherwise that is the gist of it. Thank you for your time.
7 January 1940. 19:00hrs. Greenock. Scotland.
A heavily escorted convoy of merchant ships slipped into Greenock and tied up, a heavy presence of soldiers all around the docks increased the feeling that something very special was happening. During the night the ships were unloaded, and crates of varying size and shape, quickly covered over with tarpaulins, were transferred onto two trains, with a number of soldiers riding in the goods wagons as protection when they departed.
A large number of sailors got into the passenger carriages on the two trains. The men didn’t look any different from any other sailors being transferred, though the fact there had special trains laid on for them was odd. The trains headed south at best possible speed. The first train headed for RAF St Athan, near Cardiff where all aeronautical materials and experts were headed. A large number of engineers, designers and other interested parties from all around the country were given short notice of their transfer to special projects, but their movement took place under a great veil of secrecy.
The second train made its way to Plymouth to the Royal Naval Engineering College at Keyham College. The actual college itself moved to Manadon a little quicker than had originally had been planned. Keyham then became the centre of research and development for nautical design, using the materials that fallen into their laps. Like RAF St Athan the population was quickly increased by all sorts of people from all over the country.
In both sites Bristol men were finding themselves in the company of people who were often heroes to them. Frank Whittle and Barnes Wallis took up residence in Wales. Alan Turing and Tommy Flowers passed through the RAF station to be shown the kind of thing they had fathered. Leaving Wales they went back to Bletchley Park with 8 specialists who joined them to increase the speed and complexity to what was already called “Colossus.”
As well as the two centres that had been set up a large number of academics of various types were visited with encouragement, investment and advice. John Randall and Harry Boot were visited at the University of Birmingham to see how they were progressing with the cavity magnetron, and they found themselves with a few extra pair of hands to get a working design ready for production.
Where possible patents and royalties continued to be honoured. One exception to this was with the introduction of the transistor. Julius Lilienfeld had filed patents in Canada and the United States, and he was approached by the electronics firm Pye Radio Ltd to take up his ideas and try to bring something to fruition. The promised royalties were enough for him to agree. Within a relatively short time a purpose built facility in Cambridge was attempting to develop various types of transistor for several different applications.
A number of other companies found themselves being chosen by the Government for significant investment. There was a large order for radios for the army, and so Philips, despite it being a Dutch company, and supposedly neutral, were encouraged, some would day bribed, by grants and tax breaks to build a new factory near Liverpool to diversify their production base from Holland.
The shadow factories planned before the war were being opened and brought into production as fast as possible. Men from the Ministries of Labour and Production were active in making sure that this process was as smooth and rapid as possible. Castle Bromwich, where Spitfires were supposed to be produced, was particularly singled out for “support” and a number of workers were found other positions in other companies if they didn’t collaborate with the new management regime. Supermarine, and their parent company Vickers, were under no illusion that if Castle Bromwich wasn’t producing Spitfires by February that heads would roll.
The government began to make purchases of a number of rare metals and these were being stockpiled over and above the strategic resources that were already being acquired. The price of certain commodities increased as demand rose, but the quantities that were being sought didn’t lessen.
8 January 1940. 10:00 hrs. Small Heath. Birmingham. England.
Man from the Ministry of Supply: The French have been very helpful with these modifications to the spring, de-icing and the belt feed on the Hispano cannon. We’ll be wanting a great many of these, in fact they’ll probably replace nearly all the Brownings you’re making for aircraft over the next couple of years. When can we expect delivery of the first 12 for testing? Remember, it is urgent.
Director of Birmingham Small Arms Factory: These don’t seem as if they’ll take much doing. I’ll need to check with the engineers, some of these notes are in metric numbers rather than Imperial, so we’ll need to translate that. But, well, how does the end of next week sound for the twelve?
MofS: A week on Friday it is then. Now, we’ve been looking at the shadow factories planned for the Hispano. Of the three factories at Stoke-on-Trent, Corsham and Newcastle-Under-Lyme, we’d like you to get Stoke-on-Trent up and running as quickly as possible. They’ll be working round the clock. When can I tell the minister it will be producing?
BSA: I reckon it will take a good few months to get the machine tools made and installed, then we’d need to get the workforce trained. We could move a few of our teams from here to get them started. Say June for initial production and August for full?
MofS: April and June would be better. Maybe have a few more teams in at the beginning from here?
BSA: That would be pushing it, how about May and July?
MofS: We might be able to get some help from the French with some tools and training, as I said, it is very urgent. So anything you can shave off that would be appreciated. Thank you for your time.
9 January 1940. 09:00hrs. Woolwich. London. England.
Tank Board Meeting, Royal Arsenal. Woolwich.
Attendance: Cmdr E R Micklem (Chair), Mr P Bennett (Director General of Tanks and Transport), Maj General Campbell Clarke (Director of Artillery), Brigadier V Pope (Army Representative), Mr J H Moyses (Birmingham Railway Carriage & Wagon Ltd), Mr W A Robotham (Rolls Royce), Mr G W Thompson (Member of General Council of Trades Union Congress), Mr AAM Durrant (Chief Engineer of London Passenger Transport Board).
Chair: It seems that we have been brought together to sort out what to do about our tanks, and to begin the process of deciding what will replace those currently being produced. We’ve managed to get some details about the German Panzer III and IV which we will be facing and, other than the 37mm gun on the III and the IV’s short HE only gun, we think they are both pretty good, arguably much better than what we have. So we have a look at a new specification, and the guidance from the Ministry of Supply is that we are to aim towards having one “universal” tank. Let’s just talk through some of the big issues now and produce the specifics in due course if that is alright with you?
Vyvyan Pope: So rather than having three types of tank: light, cruiser and infantry, you’re saying that all three should be replaced with something like Panzer “medium” tank, which is about 25 tons? From the army’s point of view there are three things a tank needs: good protection, a good gun and speed. It needs to have a three man turret, be reliable, and easy to manufacture and maintain in the field. No small task to get all of that right.
Harry Moyses: Companies like mine, Birmingham Railway, while we’re working on the A10, just now, we don’t have a lot of experience in designing new tanks.
Roy Robotham: I’ve been working on chassis for Rolls Royce, I really don’t understand why I’ve been asked to sit on this board!
Chair: Harry and Roy have been identified as being people who could start from a blank piece of paper and, with the specifications we decide, make a working AFV. So please don’t underestimate your abilities.
Peter Bennett: I find it interesting that both myself as Director General of Tanks and Transport, and General Clarke as Director of Artillery are both here. I suppose that means that the development of the tank and its gun has to go hand in hand?
Campbell Clarke: Yes, that’s certainly my understanding. The guidance I’ve been given is that we should be looking at the 6-pdr gun as the first choice for this tank, with some debate on whether the French idea of a 75mm gun, which would have a good HE round, but might need some help to have a satisfactory anti-tank round.
Arthur Durrant: The Brigadier mentioned reliability and speed. That depends a great deal on the power plant. We obviously can’t get Maybach to sell us their V12 engine, and currently the Liberty engine is the only one available, unless we try to fit lorry engines into tanks, which I imagine would be a failure.
Chair: Part of the reason that Roy is here is because Rolls Royce have been approached to adapt their Merlin III for a tank engine. That should give plenty of power, which will give good speed, though we will also need to consider range as a factor.
George Thompson: I see from the notes that the Panzer has torsion bar suspension. Is that a possibility, or will the Christie suspension be used?
Peter Bennett: That is an excellent question, as is the gears, the cooling system, in fact pretty much everything. For myself I would argue that the new tank has to be made of cast armour and welded. Rivets or bolts flying around inside the tank are deadly. One of the other things I don’t particularly like about the Panzer IV is it has narrow tracks, on mud they might struggle, so wider tracks for us I think.
Vyvyan Pope: Having been spending time with the men of the Royal Tank Regiment they would have a long list, as you can imagine, but there are a few things that make perfect sense. It has to be easily maintainable. Don’t put something in an awkward space that means you need to take the whole engine out to get to. Perhaps being able to take the whole engine out in one easy stage would be good too, that way if it does break down putting in a new one won’t take too long.
They also wanted good sized hatches, if they need to get out in a hurry, so you may want to think how each crewman gets in and out. They want some kind of boiling vessel so they can make a brew! Where you store the ammunition will be an issue too, they’re worried if the tank gets penetrated how you can minimize the risk of all the ammo blowing up. Also good radio and some kind of improved intercom system so they can speak to one another more easily. Also some way of speaking to the infantry without having to open hatches, one person suggested a kind of telephone at the back of the tank.
Chair: So basically we want the perfect tank, and if at all possible, we’d like it yesterday…
Peter Bennett: May I ask about the current tanks under development? Have any decisions been made, or are we going to have look at that too?
Chair: As I understand it, in general terms, the Mark VI light tank will stop production, allowing Vickers to concentrate on speeding up process of getting the Valentine into production. Regarding the cruisers, the mark I, or the A9, is going to concentrate on the Close Support version with its HE gun. The mark II, or A10, will continue production, but give way to the Valentine as Vickers gets it moving. The cruiser mark III or A13 will go ahead, though probably up-armoured enough to call it a mark IV. Production of this will continue until our new tank replaces it and in due course, the Valentine. What Nuffield are calling the Covenanter, the cruiser mark V, will be cancelled, so that more production resources can go into A13 and prepare the way for the universal tank. The A15 Crusader, which is a development of the A13, is under consideration as the basis of a family of vehicles such as self-propelled guns, both artillery and anti-aircraft, armoured personnel carriers and specialised engineering vehicles. It doesn’t offer that much of an improvement over the A13 as a tank to warrant replacing it on production lines.
As for the infantry tanks, the Matilda I will come to an end almost immediately and Vulcan will be asked to put all of their efforts to get Matilda IIs into service. The Valentine falls somewhere in between the infantry and cruiser tanks, a heavy cruiser if you will. All of this means that our Tank Brigades will be a mixture of Mk VI lights, A9, A10, A13, Matilda IIs and Valentines. That gentlemen is why we want one “universal” tank.
George Thompson: There are a lot of companies involved in all of this, many of them have no experience of building tanks, not even of heavy engineering. A lot of workers are being asked to work on something about which they are unprepared and untrained. I foresee problems in quality control unless that is addressed.
Arthur Durrant: With all of these new factories being opened, would it be worth assigning one or two of them to be devoted exclusively to tank manufacture? If we’re talking about welding rather than riveting or bolting, the workers will need to be trained on that. If we are aiming to get this new tank into production in a year, which to be honest seems a bit ambitious to my way of thinking, maybe we could use that time to set up the factories, get the right tools and training, so that when production begins, it is streamlined.
Chair: I believe we have a good deal to work on, and I feel that we have a good team here to get on with it. So, shall we move into specifics? General Clarke, let’s talk guns shall we?
10 January 1940. 09:00hrs. Vulcan Plant, Newton-le-Willows, Lancashire. England.
Man from the War Office: So, as you know, we’ve curtailed the Matilda I and have given you a larger order for the Matilda II. I’m here today to ask if you can put everything into the Matilda II and get as many of them ready by April, even if you have to go to twenty-four hour working, we need as many of them as we can get as quickly as possible.
Director of Vulcan: They are terribly slow to make. I can get more shifts on to increase production a bit, but the grinding is specialised work. I’m not sure how many more we can produce in a few months.
MWO: Regarding that, as you know we approached Ruston & Hornsby to begin production of the Matilda II last September. What we would like to do now is to approach a number of other firms: William Fowler; London, Midland & Scottish Railway; Harland & Wolff and North British Locomotive Works to support production with some of the castings and other bits and pieces. We are hoping that many hands will make light work. Tank production is now at the highest level of priority in the country, followed a close second by aircraft manufacture. So you see, everything that can be done, needs to be done.
DV: I suppose we could have a word with those other companies and sort out who would make what, then bring it all here and assemble them. That would certainly make things go along a bit quicker.
MWO: That would be very helpful. In addition we will accept some changes to the tank to speed production up. I believe the hull side coverings could be left off or simplified, if that would save time. Now, between us, I believe a new tank design may be in the works, and if you are able to help us with this, I’m sure that will be taken into account when we look at ordering the next tank.
DV: Well, I’m sure we’d want to bid on that. I’ll talk to the managers to see if we can’t get you as many tanks as we can in the meantime.
11 January 1940. 09:00hrs. RAF St Athan. Wales.
“Gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to a few of the weapons that are used by British forces in the future, and hopefully the near future. Let us begin with something you will be completely unfamiliar with. This is the Carl Gustav 84mm recoilless rifle. Somewhat different from the Boys elephant gun you are currently using, I think you’ll find. This is a single shot, breech loading weapon with a rifled barrel. The thing that makes this so powerful is the shaped charge "HEAT" (High Explosive Anti-Tank) round. Shaped charges are already around in various forms, you will be familiar with the Munroe Effect. Now, the Charlie G is a heavy, awkward piece of kit to lug around. When it goes off it's like the world farting and the cheeks of its arse slapping you round the head. Fire off too many rounds and you’ll feel concussed. But if you hit a Panzer with this thing, it will ruin their whole day. You can hit a moving target out to 150 meters, and stationary targets up to 700m.
“This is the L1A1 Self Loading Rifle, or SLR. It is a semi-automatic, that is, it fires one shot each time you pull the trigger, without the need to cycle the bolt yourself; it has a twenty round detachable box magazine. The L1A1 is a reliable, hard-hitting, gas-operated, magazine-fed semi-automatic rifle. It is very accurate out to 600m. Obviously if it is chosen to replace the Lee Enfield, there will be an issue with the cartridge. The .303 as you know is a rimmed round, and that will cause problems. I get the impression however that no one is keen on changing guns and ammunition at this point.
“This is the Sterling submachine gun. It takes the 9 x 19mm Parabellum round. Its rate of fire is 550 rounds per minute and is accurate enough out to 200 yards, though 100 is more likely. The magazine holds 34 rounds. It is very useful for close in work, and at 6lbs weight, is a useful little number for carrying around. Sub-machine guns are extremely useful, and I believe that you may want to give this serious consideration.
“This however, it the piece-de resistance. The L7A2 General Purpose Machine Gun, known affectionately as the Gimpy. Effective range of the GPMG light role is 800m. In the Sustained Fire role it is 1800m and using map predictive fire 3000m. Its cyclic rate of fire is between 750-1000 rounds per minute. Practically about 200 in sustained fire, and 100 in light role. The problem will be that it will difficult to adapt it for .303. One suggestion is to use this instead of the BESA on tanks, but using the same 7.92 x 57mm Mauser round. Hopefully there will be a lot of captured German kit lying around to keep it fed.
“Now, Gentlemen, you can see on the table here various other pieces of kit for your perusal today. The Browning 9mm pistol is probably already familiar to you; the M79 grenade launcher, the 66mm LAW disposable rocket launcher, and beside the table the L16 81mm mortar. We also have the L9 A1 51mm, but it is basically the same as the 2 inch mortar currently in use. There are however some types of rounds for it that you will find useful. The Olna was carrying good quantities of these weapons and ammunition as part of her cargo. There were also a few other bigger bits of kit that the RAF will be interested in.
“So, shall we go to the firing range and try out some of our goodies? Good, follow me then, and feel free to ask any questions…”
11 January 1940. 10:00hrs. Plymouth. England.
In a Nissan Hut in Keyham College.
Bristol Man: So that was the Hedgehog, which was replaced by the Squid launcher that I was trained on, and then there was the Limbo, which has just been taken out of service. I was on the old Salisbury, which was the last operator of the Squid. I’ve written down as much as I can remember about its system and operation. Though to be honest, I think the Hedgehog will do in the meantime. The fuse was really interesting on the Hedgehog. The problem with a contact fuse is how you get it not to explode on contact with the sea. Some boffin came up a kind of propeller system. So the bomb is fired and enters the sea, the propeller is then turned by the water as it sinks, three or four turns later the fuse is armed and, if it hits a sub, BOOM. Really clever. There was book called "The Secret War 1939-45" that covered all of that kind of thing. You should ask around to see if anyone has a copy, it will be dead useful.
11 January 1940. 11:00hrs. RAF St Athan. Wales.
In a Nissan Hut in RAF St Athan.
PO (Missile) Harry Collins: “And that Sir, is the Exocet missile. To be honest, I don’t think it is worth bothering doing much with this at this point. There are bits and pieces in here that will take years of development to replicate. I think if we had fired it at the Graf Spee it would just have burned off some paint. So it’s not really worth bothering about. The missiles you should be looking at are the 2 inch rocket pods that the Olna was carrying down to the carriers. They’re unguided, and should be able to be reproduced with that you already have. If you want missiles that may be your best hope. All the others that I’m familiar with – Sea Dart, Sea Wolf, Sea Cat, even Sea Slug are some way off. Sorry I can’t be more help sir.”
In another Nissan Hut in RAF St Athan.
PO (Weapons) John Reynolds. I’m sorry but I wasn’t trained on this, but helpfully there was a manufacturer’s leaflet with it on the Olna. It was carrying forty of these BL755 Cluster Bombs. It is an area attack and area denial weapon. The bomb weighs 600lb. The casing contains 147 HEAT bomblets packed in seven sections of 21 rounds each. Someone has explained HEAT to you yes? Good. When released from the aircraft the outer casing covers are jettisoned by a gas ejector at one of four pre-set times. The bomblets are then ejected sideways up to 60ft. Each of the bomblet deploys a small parachute to make sure it explodes on impact. The shaped charge produces a jet of high velocity, high temperature plasma which can punch through up to 250mm armour. In addition they release of 2000 pieces of shrapnel produces a secondary anti-personnel effect.
Basically it wipes out anything it falls on within the size of a football pitch, maybe a bit bigger. Drop this on a tank battalion and they won’t come out to play again. It is very nasty. I remember reading that the Soviets had a kind of early version of this called a PtAB, I’m not sure what it stands for. But basically it was a small bomb, about 2.5kg, about 5 and a half pounds, with 3lbs of explosive. You drop a bunch, say forty of those and you cover a greater area than dropping a 250lb general purpose bomb, at least on armour. It also gives your pilots a better chance of hitting something. Worth thinking about.
20 May 1982. 14:00hrs. South Atlantic.
Captain Alan Grose finished writing the letter to his wife and looked at his watch. There was fifteen minutes to spare before the meeting with his Heads of Department, and so he called for his steward to bring him a cup of tea. His desk was full of reports, as it always seemed to be the case. His ship, HMS Bristol (D23), had set sail on 10 May from Portsmouth. Most of the Royal Navy Task Force was in and around the Total Exclusion Zone, preparing for the invasion of the Falklands. The Admiralty had put together a small fleet of reinforcements and replacements consisting of HMS Bristol, two Type 21 frigates, HMS Avenger and HMS Active; three Leander class frigates, HMS Minerva, HMS Andromeda and HMS Penelope, accompanied by RFA Olna, a tanker and stores ship. Just south of Gibraltar they had been joined by the Type 42 destroyer, HMS Cardiff. They had departed Ascension the day before, Wednesday 19 May and were now in the South Atlantic and making steady progress at 16 knots, expecting to rendezvous with the fleet on or about the 26 May.
Having finished his tea and done some more paperwork, Captain Grose joined the senior officers for the Heads of Department meeting, the main point on the agenda was the damage control exercise that had been run that morning. Since the loss of HMS Sheffield to an Exocet missile ten days previously, the damage control exercises had been more intensive, frequent and dedicated. Captain Grose was able to ascertain that morale was pretty high throughout the ship, and that the exercise had been generally successful, though the Chief Engineer had picked up on a couple of points that needed further work. More damage control training during the night and the next day was planned, and Grose was confident that Cdr Tom Cummings, the First Officer would make sure that everything would be well organised. As the meeting was coming to an end a more general speculation about the amphibious assault on the Falklands, which was due to begin the next day, and how it would go was interrupted by a sudden and violent movement that threw the men to the deck. His first reaction was that the ship had hit a mine or been torpedoed, so violent was the shock.
The General Quarters alarm was sounding. Picking himself up Grose made for the ops room, while the others hurried off to their battle stations. Arriving in the gloom room, a little breathless from the adrenalin, he sat on the Captain’s Chair and asked, as calmly as he could for a damage report. Warning lights were flashing all over the consoles and one rating was still on the deck rolling around holding his ankle. Lieutenant William 'Taffy' Jones, who had the duty watch, quickly briefed his captain and tried to say what he had experienced, but it was outwith anything he had ever known. Various departments of the ship began to report in with damage reports and requests for information. Grose ordered Engineering to stop the ship, and Communications to contact the other ships in the group to report and to likewise hold their position until they could figure out what had happened.
Things started to get back to something like normal. There had been a few injuries, mostly broken bones, but the ships company were gradually regaining control of themselves and their ship. In due course the flashing red lights were replaced with green as it was found that the ship’s systems were all working within acceptable limits.
Lt-Cdr Tony Wilson, the communications officer, approached the captain and asked for a quick word in private. He was looking particularly pale, so Grose led him to a quiet spot, while Cdr Cummings, the First Officer, joined them at Grose’s invitation. Wilson had, as ordered, contacted the other ships which had all had the same experience. But he had had no contact with the rest of the fleet, nor with Northwood. The satellite links were all down, and there was nothing wrong with the equipment that his men could find, there just wasn’t any signal at all. He had picked up other traffic, mostly in morse code. One was a mayday from an SS Streonshalh, saying that they were being forced to abandon ship by a German battleship. Also while his code man was still working on it, there was another message which seemed like an old admiralty code, a really old code. Grose nodded for him to continue. “Well, I am obviously wrong, but I would have sworn that the Streonshalh was the last freighter the Graf Spee sank in December 1939. I don’t remember the date offhand.”
Grose asked if the Streonshalh had given its position. The position it gave was 800 miles east of Rio de Janeiro. HMS Bristol and her consorts were only about 2 days sailing, but they should have been forty three years away. Grose asked Wilson to invite the captains of the other ships to join him immediately aboard for a conference. As Wilson went off to comply, Grose talked through some of the implications with Cummings and what else might explain the anomaly. Other than science fiction they couldn’t come up with anything. They discussed what other information they would need to prove or disprove that they weren’t transported into the past, into a much bigger conflict than they had been expecting.
The conference of ships' captains got underway at 16:00hrs local time. In attendance were: Bristol: Capt Alan Grose; Cardiff: Capt Mike Harris; Avenger: Capt Hugo White; Active: Cdr Paul Canter; Andromeda: Capt James Weatherall; Minerva: Cmdr Steven Johnston; Penelope, Cmdr Peter Rickard; RFA Olna: Capt James (Bill) Bailey. Each of the ships had experienced the same odd falling sensation, and there were a number of broken or strained ankles and legs in the fleet. All ships were nonetheless fully operational and had resumed their southerly course. The situation was discussed fully, there was a noticeable change in the weather, which suggested a definite change from May to December. Once darkness fell a star shot should give some clarity about just exactly where and when they found themselves. The communications specialists had been unable to make contact with anyone, but were picking up bits and pieces of Morse, most of which appeared to be in various kinds of code. As well as getting a clear view of the sky, it was hoped that as darkness fell, radio reception would improve. The good news was that air and surface radar pictures were clear, as were the sonar returns.
The question was left then as what to do? The options were to return directly to Ascension Island and make contact with the naval and air units based there, if there were any. Or they could turn north and go back directly to Britain. Alternatively they could continue south in the hope whatever the anomaly was would reverse itself and they would have something interesting to tell Admiral Woodward when they arrived in the Total Exclusion Zone.
On the other hand, if it was indeed December 1939 they could either find the British cruisers on their way to the River Plate or could attempt to take on the Admiral Graf Spee themselves. There was a lengthy discussion concerning the last. Looking at the seven ships’ armaments it wasn’t clear if they would be able to actually take on a pocket battleship/heavy cruiser. Someone had come up with the information that the Graf Spee had six 11-inch and eight 5.9-inch guns. The thickness of its belt armour was up to 3.1 inches, the deck up to 1.8 inches and the turrets up to 5.5 inches of armour. Most of the Bristol Group ships had Exocets, but it reckoned that these would need a miracle to actually do any damage to a heavily armoured ship. To get in range to use the 4.5 inch guns, they need to close to under 24000 yards, well inside the range of Graf Spee’s guns. HMS Bristol’s Ikara might have been useful if they were carrying a nuclear depth charge, but these had been left behind. The Lynx helicopters could fire Sea Skuas, but these would be even less effectual than the Exocets.
One thing that was clear, the 7 warships, with RFA Olna, were a fantastic resource to Great Britain if she was indeed at war with Nazi Germany. Yet, even more than the ships, it was the knowledge, training and expertise of the crews that was even more valuable. Not one of the captains would think twice about going up against a pocket battleship, but the possible loss to a nation at war that a single 11 inch shell could cause had to be taken into consideration. Continuing south was the agreed course, speed would be increased to 20 knots, Olna’s top speed. Hopefully they would be able to make contact with the 1939 Royal Navy, and then all sorts of possibilities were open to them.
During the night comms were able to pick up various radio signals that could only come from 1939, as did the star sightings. The ships’ companies were abuzz with the rumours, and many a matelot lay awake considering his future, and his past.
21 May 1982. 12:00hrs. South Atlantic.
Lt Cdr Andy Johnston leaned over Leading Seaman Martin Clarke’s shoulder and asked “Still nothing?” “No, Sir, nothing from Northwood since the last message we got on the 18th." Clarke continued, "There's some morse code that doesn’t make any sense, and there was that distress call I told you about, Sir.” "Very well, Clarke, carry on" replied Johnston as the turned back into the control room of HMS Onyx. After looking at the charts for inspiration, Johnston said, “Right, Number One, we’ll surface and see if we can pick up anything at all on the radio… Sonar, any contacts?” “None sir” was the reply. “Fine, standby to surface, take her up Number One.”
The Oberon class submarine rose from the depths and its antennae vacuumed the radio waves, listening for anything that would explain the changes that had happened the previous day. Clarke had his eyes closed as the radio cycled through frequencies, at last he had something he recognised. He passed the word for the Captain.
“Sir, it’s a request for contact from HMS Bristol. They aren’t picking up anything from Northwood, and are trying to signal HMS Hermes. We must be directly in the path of the signal to have picked it up.” Johnston, offering a silent prayer of thanks, ordered him to reply with their position and request further instructions.
An hour later Johnston was in his cabin, reading the oddest communication he’d ever had, or even heard about in the Royal Navy. Although HMS Onyx had left Ascension a week ahead of the Bristol Group, he had been making much slower progress. Now, according to Captain Grose it was 8 December 1939, which meant he was at war with Nazi Germany. To make matters even more interesting, he was about 200 nautical miles ahead of the estimated position of the German pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spee which was heading for the River Plate. Until informed otherwise, the rules of engagement were to positively identify and sink the German raider. That brought a smile to his lips. You didn’t have to have a fancy nuclear boat like the Conqueror to sink Second World War vintage cruisers! Now all he had to do was figure out what and how to tell the ship’s company. “Good news and bad news, I suppose,” he thought.
9 December 1939. 13:00hrs. South Atlantic.
Kapitän zur See Langsdorff paced the open bridge going over in his mind the opportunities and threats that faced him in the River Plate area. So far he had been able to avoid contact with the British and French forces that were searching for him. By heading to the rich sea lanes off Uruguay there was every possibility that the British navy would have something there to protect the convoy he knew was about to leave. Hopefully it might just be a couple of destroyers, maybe a light cruiser, nothing too dangerous to trouble his magnificent ship.
Suddenly he found himself prostrate on the deck, the shockwave of the explosion under the keel had lifted the whole ship out of the water. As his mind tried to process how he found himself on the deck, and in terrible pain from his legs, he could hear the ship’s officers calling for damage reports, or like himself crying out in agony. He found that was unable to push himself off the deck, it seemed to one part of his mind that he must have broken both his legs. A couple of men from the bridge came over to check on him, but every attempt to get him to his feet simply incurred greater pain. Through the agony the admiral was furious with the look-outs who should have given warning of torpedo tracks, had the idiots been asleep?
The damage reports that were relayed to the bridge were calamitous. The ship’s back had been broken. The torpedo seemed to have exploded under the ship, not on the side, and there was no way the ship could be saved. Langsdorff gave the command to abandon ship, but the ship went down quickly, taking the Langsdorff and four hundred and eighty of the crew with it. In addition a number of captured merchant crews also went down with the ship that had sunk their ships and taken them prisoner.
On board HMS Onyx the sounds of the explosion of the Tigerfish torpedo, and the subsequent breaking up of the ship were played through the internal sound system. Lieutenant-Commander John Mulholland, the weapons engineer officer, had spent a long and frustrating period of time when HMS Onyx had been the submarine which had been used to test the torpedoes. Their unreliability had become a source of constant frustration for the whole crew. They had ten on board, as well as 2 Mark 20 and 11 Mark 8 torpedoes. As the submarine had worked itself into a position to ambush the German pocket-battleship, the question of how to sink it had led to a fairly heated debate among the senior staff. The Admiral Graf Spee was cruising at about 18 knots. To get a shot on it with the Mark 8 torpedoes would take a fair bit of work. Mulholland argued that using the Tigerfish would give them two bites at the cherry. They could launch the Tigerfish and guide them from a position where they could use their own active acquisition to attack the ship. If they failed, then there was still a chance to get another shot away with the Mark 8s. This plan was eventually agreed.
Mulholland and his team had then spent the next few hours giving the two chosen torpedoes some tender loving care in the hope that they could to get them to work. Mulholland would have preferred to fire off four Tigerfish, but there was no chance of getting anymore, ever, so keeping some of them in reserve was the captain’s decision. So the two fish had been fired, one of them immediately breaking its wire, and being lost. The other however did exactly what they had hoped, making Mulholland feel enormous relief, though the thought of all those men drowning didn’t give him any pleasure.
10 December 1939. 13:00hrs. South Atlantic.
Captain Hugo White felt the thrill of HMS Avenger’s speed as she raced towards the River Plate. The sea was quite calm and Avenger was making 32 knots. The Bristol Group were following behind having picked up survivors from the ill-fated Admiral Graf Spee. Captain White had been detached and tasked with making contact with HMS Ajax which should be around the River Plate at 32° south, 47° west, waiting to be joined by HMS Achilles and HMS Exeter. Commodore Henry Harwood had ordered the three cruisers to rendezvous there to wait for the arrival of Admiral Graf Spee. It was now 10 December and HMS Avenger was eating up the miles to the rendezvous. His reverie was interrupted when he was called to the ops room with a surface contact. The profile fitted HMS Ajax, and so White ordered an intercept course and for the battle ensign to be raised to ease identification.
First contact with HMS Ajax was achieved successfully. Commodore Henry Harwood and Captain Charles Woodhouse, Ajax’s captain, were invited to dine in the Type 21’s comfortable wardroom. After a tour of the ship and a flight in the Lynx around their own cruiser, Avenger accompanied HMS Ajax and to the rendezvous with HMS Achilles and in due course Exeter. The four Royal Navy ships eventually met with the rest of the Bristol Group and made for Freetown. HMS Exeter was given the task of carrying the rescued sailors from Admiral Graf Spee to the Falkland Islands, where they would have to be held incommunicado, until someone could decide what to do with them.
One of the first and important pieces of information that was passed on from the Bristol Group was that the German B-Dienst code breakers, were reading British Naval Cipher No.3. This information would be used to provide false information for a period of time until new ciphers were introduced for the whole fleet, both naval and merchant. This meant that information being passed from Force G to the rest of the fleet was highly curtailed. The decision to sail for was for Freetown was so that Admiral George d'Oyly Lyon, Commander in Chief, South Atlantic could make an assessment of the situation.
20 December 1939. 14:00hrs. Freetown, Sierra Leone.
The men of 1982 lined the rails and looked on in wonder at HMS Ark Royal, HMS Renown and 3rd Destroyer Division. There were a very great number of men on the Bristol Group ships who had made plastic models of this aircraft carrier and battlecruiser when they were children, and to see them in real life was a thrill. Likewise the men of 1939 were fascinated by these future ships. Over a couple of days information was exchanged, tours were undertaken.
The arrival of a Wessex onto the Ark Royal was greeted with enthusiasm, and a degree of wonder. Many of the matelots were exchanging stories and happily found that not much had changed in the humour and complaints of those who served in the Royal Navy. A copy of the film Battle of the River Plate was screened and met with much glee. The crew of RFA Olna, whose predecessor played the Altmark in the film, were proud owners of full copy of the film and had the proper facilities to show it.
During the journey across the Atlantic a great deal of effort went into looking at listing the issues, resources and priorities that the Bristol Group’s arrival in 1939 should be considered. Lists were made of the knowledge base of all the servicemen on board. There were a large number of specialists who were earmarked to go ashore to share the technological advances of the next forty years with British industry. In addition the Olna was proving to be a gold mine as its inventory of stocks which it was shipping to the Task Force was impressive, over and above its fuel stocks. There were a great many books, including a great deal of naval history that would be of use. One Sub-Lieutenant had brought his reference books on the battle of the Atlantic which he was studying for his Masters degree.
In discussion with Admiral d'Oyly Lyon and his staff it was decided that there were some things that were of such importance that a group of men from the Bristol Group, including Captains Grose and White would fly by seaplane back to Britain with some of the material. Photographs were taken of the materials to provide a copy in case anything should happen to the flight. The group was split between two Sunderlands giving a better chance of not losing all their eggs in one basket. Along with the two Royal Navy captains, there was a ship’s surgeon, with some medical materials; the senior intelligence officer from the Bristol Group; an RAF Flight Lieutenant who had been sailing on RFA Olna as a late replacement for the Harrier Squadron on HMS Hermes; a Captain from The Scots Guards, who’d also been on RFA Olna, who had missed sailing with his regiment due to being on leave after his marriage.
After an uncomfortable journey, both Sunderlands arrived safely in Cornwall, where the party was met by a large group of military and civilians to begin the process of sifting through the implications of the arrival of the future ships and the possible impact on the war.
23 December 1939. 09:00hrs. RAF Mount Batten. Cornwall. England.
Having arrived in the Sunderlands late the night before, the men of the Bristol Group had been given a night’s sleep before their first meeting with their reception party. The morning was spent with a very suspicious group of men from Military Intelligence who interviewed each of them separately. The possibility of this being some kind of elaborate hoax played by an enemy had to be examined, even if it seemed unlikely. Each of the Bristol Group men got more and more frustrated as the morning and its interviews dragged on. Having to tell their stories over and over again was causing them a great deal of anger. They had information that could literally mean the difference between life and death, winning the war quickly or far more slowly, even possibly losing it. However after a break for lunch, Captain Grose was invited to speak for the whole group to a select audience from various parts of the government and the military.
Among the materials that had been brought back on the Sunderlands was a television, a VCR and a set of VHS tapes of the television series, “The World At War”. While the Bristol Group men were being interviewed, or stewed as they called it, the audience had been sitting through a version of history that might unfold. They hadn’t had time to watch all of it, which would take a whole day. A recommendation of which episodes to watch had been made, covering the first part of the war, up to the fall of Singapore, and then the last couple of episodes, including the one on the Holocaust. What they had seen had horrified them.
That gave Grose an audience which was full of questions, but also ready to listen. Much thought had gone into this lecture, one that Grose and his comrades would probably have to repeat a number of times. There were a number of things that could be done that would hinder Hitler’s plans in the first part of the war. There were a number of other things that would provide the ability to win the war. Lastly there were a number of things that could be done to improve the position of the nation in a post-war world. Obviously some things could be worked on concurrently, but his team had put together a list of priorities to avoid the defeats of 1940 and 1941.
31 December 1939. 21:00hrs. Loch Ewe, Scotland.
Having sailed nine days previously from Freetown, and keeping a steady 18 knots, the Bristol Group, along with force K, arrived at Loch Ewe. The passage was uneventful, they’d deliberately steered clear of any other shipping, and their arrival at night was met by elements of Home Fleet, especially minesweepers which had been hard at work making sure the anchorage was clear. Loch Ewe had been chosen as giving the best equipped anchorage which would also inhibit German reconnaissance efforts. The need to camouflage the future ships had also been prepared for. Amongst those who were desperate to have a look around the new arrivals was the First Lord of the Admiralty, Winston Churchill and Admiral of the Fleet Alfred Dudley Pound.
The best use of these ships had been the subject of much discussion. The loss of personnel ashore would mean that at least two ships would be unable to be manned. HMS Penelope was the oldest of the Leander class ships and it was felt she would be best suited to be taken apart to look at her systems, including the Babcock and Wilcox propulsion system. It was felt that the Type 21s were the least useful ships and that HMS Active would be similarly given over to be broken up. Active was chosen over Avenger because there was evidence of greater hull cracking. The Rolls-Royce Olympus and Tyne gas turbines would be of some interest to the Navy, and the RAF. As to the rest, the suggestion that was made to the Admiralty was that they would be very useful in their primary role of Anti-Submarine Warfare. In addition they might be deployed alongside the aircraft carriers to provide them with greater radar support. A few exercises with Ark Royal personnel and aircraft on the way north had shown that this would be beneficial. HMS Onyx had made her own direct way home in solitary fashion, having been fully stored before leaving the Bristol Group, and had arrived just the day before.
There were others who were appalled at the very thought of putting these future ships, and more importantly, their crews in harm’s way. Their potential loss would be catastrophic. Cooler heads however prevailed. Designed to kill Soviet submarines, far more advanced than the U-boats of the beginning of the war, having three or four hunting groups based around the future ships, could end the battle of the Atlantic before it began. The appeal of the crews matched this desire. While many of them were resigned to their fate of winding up ashore in offices or workshops, the chance to give the Nazis a good kicking was a too good to miss.
The psychological impact on the crews of the Bristol Group had been of enormous concern to their officers, and, to their credit, that of the wartime Admiralty. Long conversations with the chaplains, from both times, and with many of the officers had taken place. There was no definitive answer to anything, but one rating, who was a keen reader of science fiction had posited the multiverse theory. Many of officers and men had taken up the idea that they were copies transferred to this version of reality to do away with tyranny. Meanwhile their true selves were continuing on their way to the Falklands conflict and would return home in due course. For some that was enough. A few hands had disappeared overboard, unable to contemplate their loss, but the vast majority were professionals getting on with the job, and dealing with things their own way.
If God or the Universe or whatever, had put them here to kick Adolf in the ball, then that was a cause they could get behind. There had been a few incidents at Freetown when the consumption of increased amounts of alcohol had allowed feelings of anger and confusion come to the surface. The chaplains and medical officers were keeping an eye on people and offering what comfort they could. Even some of them were struggling. One example was the Roman Catholic chaplain, Fr Tim McGlynn, who’d arrived on HMS Cardiff having been picked up in Gibraltar. He’d taken refuge in the bottle, his alcoholism becoming a particular cause for concern. Along with a couple of others who weren’t coping, he would be sent to a secure location where some support and care could be given.
2 January 1940. 08:00hrs. Loch Ewe. Scotland.
Winston Churchill could hardly contain himself, despite the restraints that he’d been forced to wear when he boarded the Wessex that would deliver him and his entourage onto HMS Bristol. The pilot had kindly agreed to a fly past of each of the ships that had been hurriedly camouflaged as the sun rose over Loch. The fact that it was raining helped make sure that no German eyes would see the ships of the future. Fully laden HMS Bristol displaced over 7100 tonnes, about the same size as HMS Achilles, the Leander class light cruiser which had made the journey with them. The Type 42 destroyer Cardiff displaced 4000t, in contrast to the H class destroyer HMS Hero which displaced 1900t fully loaded. The frigates Avenger and Active displaced 3200 tonnes, the Leanders were around 3000 tonnes, had no real equivalents in the 1939 navy. The Onyx was a few meters longer than a T class submarine, but with a much greater displacement. RFA Olna was simply huge to the eyes of 1940.
Winston Churchill jumped down off the Wessex and saluted the flag and then Captain Grose, who welcomed him and his party on board. As the Wessex clattered away and normal conversation was able to be resumed the First Lord of the Admiralty was quick to recognise that these visitors were a godsend to him, but at much cost to themselves. After an exhaustive tour of the ship, and what seemed like thousands of questions, Captain Grose brought the Admiralty party to the wardroom for lunch, as invited by the ship’s officers.
The main questions that came up were around the capabilities of the ships of the Bristol group, their strengths and weaknesses. The discussion beforehand had been very keen to emphasise the limitations of the technology they had brought back. While many of the systems were developments of things that were already underway, there were other elements, such as transistors that would have to be “invented”. The war stocks on hand of the missiles wouldn’t last long if they were put under constant air attack. Once those missiles, especially Sea Dart and Sea Wolf were expended it would be long time before they could be replicated. Exocet anti-ship missiles, as discussed regarding Admiral Graf Spee, would be very limited against the highly armoured capital ships, as were the smaller Sea Skua carried by the Lynx helicopters. These too would take a lot of time before they could be replicated.
The Vickers mark 8 4.5-inch guns were effective enough, but only four of the ships had them. The fact that all three Leander class frigates had no large guns, likewise HMS Onyx, had been a revelation to the Royal Navy of 1940. It felt that it was a pity that the Leanders had lost their twin Mark 6 gun mountings, replaced by the Exocets, as that had been an effective system, and was within the ability of current manufacture to replicate. The Leanders did have two 40mm Bofors guns each. The others had two Oerlikon 20mm guns for close defence against air attack, (HMS Bristol had four) all the ships were preparing to use GPMGs to supplement their anti-aircraft defences. The Sea Cat missile system on the Type 21s and the Leanders was recognised as being the most easily copied system, though it was felt that using its radar system with Bofors 40mm guns was likely to be a better, certainly quicker choice.
The helicopters, six Lynx and three Wessex, were something that the Admiralty were familiar with the concept of, however their capabilities were something that obviously had great potential. The fact that anti-submarine warfare was the main capability of most of the ships was exciting, especially knowing the potential dangers of an unrestricted U-boat campaign. The radar, which always confused the people who knew it as RDF, was far in advance of what was currently being used, and the sonar, or ASDIC, was likewise far more capable. For anti-submarine killing HMS Bristol had the Ikara system, the took some explaining, the rest of the ships all had anti-submarine torpedo launchers with Mk 46 homing torpedoes, the description of which made a number of RN personnel drool. HMS Andromeda also had five of the latest Stingray torpedoes.
Already the process of stripping the ships of all material that would go for study in various sites was underway, and the officers and men whose knowledge and expertise were considered essential were being fitted for 1940 pattern uniforms so that they would fit in with their new surroundings. As Winston was about to disembark, he was requested to say a few words to the assembled crew, words which would be recorded and conveyed to the other crews in the anchorage. Normally he liked to prepare for speech, but he was buoyed by the experience of the day, and the generous portions of whiskey provided by officers of HMS Bristol. As he came to the microphone, his well-known voice, even to those born long after he died, began…
“Dear shipmates, forgive my impertinence using this term, but it seems that we have been thrown together on this voyage into the unknown. You have entered this New Year festival far from your time, far from your family, yet I hope that you do not feel so far from home. Whether it be the ties of blood, or the friendships that have developed, or the commanding sentiment of comradeship, we face this new year, and new situation together, as men of the Royal Navy.
“We are locked in deadly struggle, and, with the most terrible weapons which science can devise, the nations advance upon each other. Here, in the midst of war, raging and roaring over all the lands and seas, creeping nearer to our hearts and homes, here, amid all the tumult, we have a task. A difficult task, a task that will call on all of us a terrible toll. But, whether 1940 or 1982, we are …, well perhaps it is best summed up in a chorus (you’ll forgive me if I don’t sing): ‘Heart of Oak are our ships, Jolly Tars are our men, We always are ready: Steady, boys, Steady! We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.’”
2 January 1940. 11:00hrs. RAF Mount Batten. Cornwall. England.
Commander Tom Allen, the senior intelligence officer on board HMS Bristol had spent the longest week of his life passing on all the information he had about the secret war of spies and intelligence. His entire career had been faced with the danger of the Soviet Union, and so his knowledge of the Second World War was limited, but the information in the book “The Double Cross System” by John Masterman had been picked over intently. It was hoped that this time around British Intelligence would have a similar success rate.
The fact that Allen had some knowledge of Bletchley Park was initially horrifying, but knowing the central importance of the Ultra to British success, and the fact that a team from the Bristol Group would be going there to help matters along was a relief. The cryptology that was used by the Royal Navy in 1982 was being examined, and the problems brought to light with the knowledge of German code breaking successes were being addressed with great urgency.
It was the matter of Soviet penetration into the Secret Intelligence Service that was the biggest surprise. Two of the books that Allen had brought along, “A Climate of Treason” by Andrew Boyle and “Their Trade is Treachery” by Chapman Pincher, gave a fairly extensive picture of Soviet success, and British failure. Allen was keen to stress that, for all he knew, the unmasking of the spies’ names in these books wouldn’t necessarily be the whole story. It was highly likely there were others passing information to the Kremlin completely unknown to MI5.
To complicate matters some of those named in these books, and from Allen’s general knowledge were, as yet in 1940 innocent, or at a very low level. What was currently going on was as much a mystery to him, as it was to MI5. At least now they had no excuse, there was obviously a problem, and it was clear that something would have to be done about it. Allen himself was sure that wouldn’t be something he’d be informed about, but he was keen to stress, that while Stalin and Hitler were still in cahoots, there was ample reason to crack down as hard on Soviet spies as it was on Nazi spies. The Cambridge spy ring was a good place to start.
The Joint Intelligence Committee, as Allen had been informed of this just this morning, had agreed to the proposal that had been suggested by him. His idea was that Britain should pretend to have a highly placed spy within the Nazi hierarchy who was feeding information. Under this cover appropriate future knowledge could be disseminated safely. The worst that could happen if the Germans found out about it is starting a mole hunt in their own leadership cadre. Allen had been careful to point out that things would change from what was “known” as events progressed or “butterflied away”.
2 January 1940. 14:00hrs. RAF Mount Batten. Cornwall. England.
It was painful, very, very painful. Flight Lieutenant Robin Smith finished his lunch and was heading back to the office where he seemed to having been banging his head against a brick wall for a week. As a Harrier pilot in 1 Squadron, he had missed joining the rest of his squadron when they’d left to go off to HMS Hermes. He’d had been on an exchange visit in America. When he’d returned, post haste, he’d been put aboard RFA Olna, with a few ground crew from the squadron to act as battle replacements, should it be necessary. So he had missed one war, and here he was in another, but not exactly as he had expected. Instead of being given a Spitfire and shooting down Nazis, it seemed he was at war with his own service.
It was clear that his assessment of the RAF’s performance in the war was not to the liking of the Air Ministry or the most senior officers of the RAF. Hugh Dowding, the commander of Fighter Command was the exception, he was prepared to listen, probably because his command had done very well, from Smith’s point of view. Bomber Command, on the other hand, he expected would sooner burn him as a heretic than anything else.
It was fair to say that watching “The World At War” had been a bit counter-productive for the Bomber Command officers. They could see the destruction of German cities and it seemed to them that this was exactly what Strategic Bombing was all about. The fact that it didn’t really get going until 1944, and it cost a huge amount of casualties among the air-crew, and in fact didn’t really stop the war, didn’t seem to matter one iota. One of them had actually said to him, in front of others, “Ah well, old boy, once we get the Atom Bomb, that will hurry things along much more quickly, won’t it?” Smith had been gobsmacked. They seemed to have no clue about the failures and costs of their obsession with “the bomber always getting through”.
They had got fixated about fleets of Lancasters dropping Tall Boys with pin-point accuracy and weren’t prepared to listen to the very real, and very quick, small changes that could be made now, that would improve things enough to stop the appalling losses this May in the Advanced Air Component and Advanced Air Striking Component in France. Like all pilots who’d been trained in the RAF, Smith had learned about the mistakes, and bravery of the pilots, flying in Battles and Blenheims, and their complete failure to achieve anything, except die in large numbers. As a Harrier pilot he’d tried to explain the importance of Close Air Support, used successfully by the Luftwaffe, but not really employed by the RAF until well into the desert campaigns in 1942. He’d have been as well beating his head against a brick wall for all the good it was doing. He’s spoken to one of the Fleet Air Arm pilots who’d arrived along with him from Freetown about his conversations. It seemed the FAA were open to what they were being told, but they’d laughed together when they’d tried to imagine how the RAF types would have reacted to getting the same information from the Royal Naval Air Branch!
Taking a deep breath, Smith opened the door to office, and was surprised to find an RAF Officer he hadn’t met before, alone, sitting smoking a cigarette. “Flight Lieutenant Smith, pleased to meet you. My name is Douglas Evill. Evill by name, but not by nature I hope.” Noticing the braid that signified an Air Vice Marshall, Smith came to attention and saluted. “Now, now, none that!” he said, motioning him to a chair. “It seems that my colleagues have been giving you something of a hard time, Flight Lieutenant, or may I call you Robin?” “Of course sir, if you prefer.” Smith’s response came from that same place of frustration that he’d been feeling since he’d arrived in Cornwall. Evill nodded, “It seems that you now have friends in high places. A heavily censored report you wrote crossed the desk of Sir Kingsley Wood, the Secretary of State for Air, he particularly noted the concerns you raised over my bailiwick in France, and sent me down to “get to the heart of the matter”. Now that was the single most surprising exercise of my life, to get into this building and to meet you, Robin.” “I can imagine, Sir! Though not as surprising a time travel I expect.”
“Indeed, there you are! And here you are! I’ve been having a bit of a chat over lunch with the men who you’ve been with the last few days, and I have to say, that I’m a bit surprised at their response to you. Not at all what I expected. Nothing in the manner of ‘manna from heaven’, ‘a wonderful stroke of luck’, which makes me fear a little for the state of the Royal Air Force. I wonder, if you’d mind terribly talking me through what you’ve been trying to say, but perhaps haven’t been listened to? I can assure you that I will give you a fair hearing. Now if you find me agreeable I’ve been assigned to be your liaison. No more banging your head against brick walls, what!”
Smith took a deep breath, “Well Sir, I have been banging on about a number of things. It’s no good looking at what might be available in three or four years. We have until May at the latest before the Nazi hammer falls, April if you count Norway. What can and needs to be done in three months to make us ready for what’s coming?
“If there is just one thing that could be done now more than anything else to make the biggest difference, is get Castle Bromwich to produce Spitfires now. You might have to fire Lord Nuffield to do it, but the sooner that factory can contribute its production the better. In my time it was July before the first Spitfires were produced, but we have to get them moving by the end of January. Even if they only produce fifty a month from February to April, an extra 150 Spitfires in May will make a huge difference. That is the one single thing that I can’t emphasise enough.
“There are a few simple fixes to increase the effectiveness of the planes already in service. I’ve mentioned in my report a way of fixing the Spitfire’s problem with the engine cutting out in negative G manoeuvres. Putting De Havilland constant speed propellers on all the fighters will give them better performance. Sort out the delays with getting the 20mm canon working, even if you have to beg the French for their help, but start putting canons in the fighters as soon as possible, it will give them a much better chance to shoot down Jerries.
“In terms of training the “finger-four” formation needs to be practised rather than the three plane “vic”. We should be setting up a “Red Flag” exercise with the home based squadrons. The idea is to get pilots to have an intensive time of battle-like conditions, with as much realism as possible. I would also propose a “Top Gun” school. This means having one squadron which will mimic German tactics, called the aggressors. The best pilots from each squadron will be brought together to go up against them, hopefully learning how to overcome them. Dogfighting is a skill that can make all the difference. Remember, many of the Luftwaffe’s pilots have combat experience in Spain and Poland. That means they already have an advantage. We have to close that gap as quickly as possible.
“In the short term every Spitfire and Hurricane pilot should go up against the bomber squadrons to learn how to shoot accurately, and particularly learn deflection shooting. Much greater emphasis must be placed on gunnery training. If the fighters start to get 20mm canons instead of machine guns, accurate fire will be all the more crucial. Pilots have to learn to not waste their limited ammo by missing the targets completely. There’s a lot more I could say about that, but well…
“The bombers take terrible losses, are basically ineffective for the best part of four years, and DON’T win the war! How long does it take to train the pilot, navigator and gunner in a Battle? I would guess about a year, right? Though most men on squadron will be in for a couple of years at least. You have about 18 squadrons of Battles designated for France. That is a lot of aircrew, a huge investment in training and skills. The Battles will be withdrawn from frontline service after the battle of France, because they are too vulnerable, too many are shot down by flak and Me 109s. Too many excellent men are lost, and for no gain. You have to withdraw the Battles now and save some of your best trained aircrew. You might consider is using a whole lot of the planes in Training Command, especially when the Empire Training Scheme gets up and running. That is about all they are useful for.
“OK, so what do you do if you have withdrawn 18 squadrons of Battles? My expertise is Close Air Support that is what I’ve been trained to do. I think it would be possible to teach some of the basic skills quickly enough to be able to offer the army in France something, rather than the nothing we would otherwise. We have to blunt the German edge in tank and mobile warfare. If Hawker could adapt the wings of Hurricanes with hard points to carry bombs, then they could do ground support missions as what we call Fighter Bombers. Stop production of the Battles immediately, and use the Merlins meant for them to make more Hurricanes. They were called ‘Hurribombers’ where I come from. If we lose one to ground fire, at least it is only one crewman killed or captured, not the three in a Battle. It might be worth asking the current Battle navigators to retrain as pilots, even ask the air gunners. They've been through a lot of training already, so hopefully pilot training for them could be quicker. You’ll need a lot more pilots and they could be a good source for some quickly.
“You’ve already learned that unescorted daylight bombing is suicidal. I’ve written down some ideas for better navigation at night so that your bombs fall something closer than five miles from the target. We are some distance from radars being fitted, but there is are things called Gee and Oboe that could be brought forward. The German’s have a method based on the Lorenz system which would be a good start. Though I’m told that there aren’t enough oscilloscopes, sorry, oscillographs. I could go on, Sir, but you look a bit overwhelmed.”
The Air Vice Marshall hid his smile while lighting another cigarette. “Well, well, Robin that was about as passionate a speech I’ve ever heard. And I can see why my colleagues weren’t of a mind to listen. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off? I have to get back to London and place a very big bomb under the Air Ministry, and another under Lord Nuffield. I would love for you to come along and see the faces of people who are not going to like the medicine you’re prescribing. But dear chap, pleased be assured that this medicine will be forced down their throats, whether they like it or not. You have my word.” “Thank you Sir,” was as much as Smith could muster.
2 January 1940. 15:00hrs. RAF Mount Batten. Cornwall. England.
Captain Iain Murray, Captain of the Scots Guards, had been on board RFA Olna instead of Queen Elizabeth II with his regiment due to his recent and now distant nuptials. Murray’s reception by the army’s representatives who’d been gathered to listen to the recommendations from history had been very well received. He definitely fitted the bill as “one of us.” The fact that he was a guardsman, from a good family, with the correct alma maters, made his communication with the representatives of the army of 1940 very smooth. This afternoon’s session was a final read through the report that would be put to the Army Council regarding the priorities for making the army as ready as possible for the blooding that was to come.
There were three basic recommendations, which it was hoped would give the army a fighting chance against the Germans when they came. There were many other recommendations about weapons and their production that would be part of supplementary reports. The army hadn’t changed that much from 1940 to 1982 in its love for training. The first recommendation was increased training, something that no-one would likely complain about. The types of training however was a little more radical. Basically it was proposed that all the soldiers in France, and those preparing to go to France, would spend the next three months doing a serious of training exercises. Instead of wasting much of their time digging trenches along the Franco-Belgian borders as they did during the phoney war as Murray knew it, the chances to exercise had to be made the most of. Even it was going to be a harsh winter and spring.
Murray happened to have with him the 1981 serious of pamphlets “Training for War.” These dealt with the principles and organisation of training, then individual training and finally collective training. In essence what these pamphlet recommended was a logical progression from the 1937 “Infantry training, training and war.” The fundamental difference between them was that in 1937 it was expected that each regiment was responsible for its own training, and that gave a lot of latitude for the officer responsible making for an unevenness between the levels of training from one regiment to another. Whereas in 1981, everyone in the army was expected to have the same level of basic training, and that “battle school” an innovation of World War Two, was an essential part of that training.
It had been learned that troops had to be preconditioned to the disorientating physical environment of the battlefield. The best way of overcoming the inherently stressful conditions was for them to learn rote actions that they could repeat as ordered almost without thinking. This school would be set up and run by the Royal Marines that had arrived in HMS Onyx, members of the SBS, who would be well capable of setting up and running a battle school at Fort George, outside Inverness. Two senior sergeants from each infantry Battalion destined for France would be detached to the school for a period of three weeks during January. They would spend the first part learning the drills themselves, and then the second part learning how to teach it. Representatives of each training cadre in the army would then go through the same process so that all the new recruits to the army would learn them too as part of their basic training.
In the month of February these sergeants would train their fellow NCOs and junior officers, so that in March every infantry battalion would learn these drills at individual, squad, platoon and company level. During the months of January and February the basics of physical fitness and weapon proficiency would be worked on with the infantrymen until the trainers had been trained.
Meanwhile Murray would organise a school for company and Battalion officers. One Major and one Captain from each infantry battalion would then have the three week course starting later in January. Much of the work of this school would be to do with communication, leadership, and combined arms cooperation. This would take place at Sandhurst, so that that organisation would benefit from the methodology. The officers who passed this training course would then be organised as Brigade teams to pass that training onto their fellow officers during the rest of February into March.
The last part of the process, due to happen at the end of February into early March, would be a week’s “war school” for all the senior officers: Brigadiers, Divisional, Corps and Army Commanders. By this time it should be clear what the BEF’s strategy would be, in and of itself, and in relation to the French and probably Belgian allies.
That would mean that during the month of April comprehensive Battalion, Brigade, Divisional and finally Army series of exercises could be conducted, hopefully with French participation. Four months was all they had to prepare to Fall Gleb, they had to make the most of that time.
The second recommendation was regarding “C3I”: Command, Control, Communications and Intelligence. If the BEF had been defeated in May 1940 it was due in no small part to its failure in these matters. They had not foreseen how German doctrine and organisation would interact with their own on the battlefield. Hopefully the hindsight that the Bristol Group had brought would fix that problem. But historically the BEF’s C3I could not cope with the tempo of operations that the Germans imposed upon it. Amongst the recommendations was that the C-in-C of all forces in France, General Gort, should not also have the responsibility of the army commander. So within the BEF, there should be created First Army, with its own commander-in-chief. In due course it was expected that a second, even a third army would be created, with would require an Army Group commander. C-in-C of the BEF would then be free to deal with the whole, while the army commander got on with that specific job. Part of the hope for the “war school” mentioned in training, was that each Corps staff should be adequate for the job they were entrusted with. The deficit of training of senior officers was a problem that needed to be addressed and could only be done so but the leadership of the army.
There was a reliance on cable communications by the BEF, not least on the French telephone system, that was dangerous. It was clear that the army did not have enough radios to be able to do its job effectively. The Royal Corps of Signals needed to be strengthened as did the signals platoon in each battalion. Attention should be given to radio security, and Murray had a tried and tested system used by the army in 1982 that should be introduced, rather than the time consuming ciphers currently used. Getting to the point where each Company had radio communications, that all formations, including the RE Field Companies, were tied into a network was of paramount importance. This would be particularly helpful in the combined arms operations that were envisaged. Everything possible should be done to acquire enough Wireless Sets No 11 and 18 and fully trained operators by May 1940.
Unless something drastic took place, the Intelligence part of the equation should be very strong. However the danger could be that there would be an over-reliance on what the Germans should do, as opposed to what they were actually doing. So while strategically the German plan was understood, but it was the role of Intelligence to make sure that the German ability to be creative and flexible, didn’t outwit them this time around. The BEF’s intercept service should be strengthened by having enough linguists, who were well versed in German military terms, so that plain text tactical messages intercepted, could be utilised, but again the need for the dissemination of that intelligence between the intercept stations, GHQ and lower headquarters would have to be well organised and trained.
The third and final recommendation was more of a medium to long term issue. The various battles and campaigns of World War Two had seen a number of experiments with the Table of Organisation and Equipment (TOE) of the army from squad to divisional level. What the army had finished the war with in 1945 had then become the foundation of the army all the way up to 1982. Murray’s description of that TOE was to be examined and ideally moved towards as soon as practicable. Trying to implement wholescale changes at this point would simply confuse matters, but since First Armoured Division was still in the process of formation, replacing the “support group” with an infantry Brigade, preferably “mechanised” could be done and still allow it to arrive in France by the end of April. Two Divisions (5oth (Northumbrian) and 51st (Highland)) should be chosen as the first two infantry Divisions to attempt to increase their mechanisation. They would then join First Armoured Division as a “Mechanised Corps.”
As the group finished off their deliberations and found a consensus among themselves about these recommendations, Murray wondered if they had enough time, and motivation to be able to stand up to Hitler’s armies. He was reminded of a quote from Claude Auchinleck that the British Army in 1940 had encountered in the Germans a foe as radical as their forebears had found in Napoleon’s Grand Armée. It had taken a lot of learning before the army in the early 19th Century had finally been able to best Napoleon’s troops. Murray hoped that the recommendations that were being proposed would short-cut some of the most expensive lessons so hard won by 1945. That would only happen as long as the army as a whole would be prepared to listen and change. If there was one thing the British army of 1940 needed to do, it needed to change.
3 January 1940. 14:00hrs. 10 Downing Street. London. England.
Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain was sitting contemplating his future over a cup of tea. The War Cabinet had spent the morning being fully briefed on the events that had led to the sinking of the Admiral Graf Spee and the arrival of the Bristol Group. The information that they had given, and the hope they held out had made for an interesting discussion. Lord Halifax had, perhaps simply playing devil’s advocate, explored the question of whether the long term future of the British Empire would be better served by withdrawing from the agreements with France and making a separate peace with Hitler. The Germans were beastly and would have to be stopped somehow, there was no question of that. The question however, was whether or not defeating them was worth the cost of an impoverished and weakened England, divesting itself of its colonial possessions with indecent haste. Was that outcome better or worse than the loss of face in abandoning treaty obligations?
There was a strong disagreement about this line of thinking in the cabinet. A much rosier point of view was given by Winston Churchill, First Lord of the Admiralty. In his view, the information, if properly distributed, and there was a big choice to be made regarding the French, then the German’s expansionism could be brought to a resounding stop. As some of the new equipment was brought into production, it might well be possible to see the Nazi regime collapse within a year or two. Then the Empire would be in a much stronger position, with the opportunity to become the world leader in science and technology.
Eventually this line of argument won the day, and the decision was made to establish an Oversight Committee under the chairmanship of Baron Maurice Hankey, Minister without Portfolio. The committee was given the task of making the most of the information that had fallen into their laps. The job ultimately would be to make sure that all elements of the nation would work together to bring success to the military forces that would take the brunt of the fighting.
However, what was really on the Prime Minister’s mind was the fact that the future Navy doctor had examined him the other day. It was known that he had died of cancer and the hope was that an early diagnosis might give him a chance of recovery. The best men from Harley Street would no doubt confirm the diagnosis of cancer. Chamberlain was no coward, and the possibility of going under the knife wasn’t what he was thinking about. War. Total, relentless and awful war. He knew that he wasn’t the right man for the job. He put down his cup and picked up the telephone, asking his private secretary to see if perhaps he might have an audience with the King.
4 January 1940. 10:00hrs. The Admiralty. London, England.
Lieutenant Charles Parker checked his notes once more as he waited to be called into the conference room. His studies on the Battle of the Atlantic were well advanced and he had been nearing completing his Masters Degree in History. Now he was right in the middle of that very history he’d studied. He had packed some of the most important sources with him when he had set sail for the Falklands on HMS Andromeda hoping to do some work when he had a chance. Thank goodness he had, because it was now worth its weight in gold.
As he had sailed up from Freetown he had time to organise his study materials so he could present them to the Naval Intelligence Division in London. The trip south from Loch Ewe in an uncomfortable steam train compartment had been a revelation, seeing Britain in January 1940 pass his window. London itself was suffering from a particularly cold winter, as was all of Europe, if there was one thing that he’d forgotten was the ubiquitous coal smoke from chimneys.
He was wearing a downtime uniform, which was slightly ill-fitting, and this added to his discomfort. The door opened and a pretty Wren invited him to come in. Picking up his cap from the chair beside him, he marched into the room and gave his best salute. He was immediately put at ease by the chairman, a rear admiral. “We’ve a lot to get through, Lieutenant, so pull up a chair and explain this goldmine you’ve given us.”
“Thank you, Sir. What you have before you are photocopies of the war diaries of the German Naval Staff Operations Division for 1940. These were translated by the American’s Office of Naval Intelligence after the end of the war and declassified in 1972. These particular copies are ones I made from the original in the library at Dartmouth and are part of my research into the early stages of the Battle of the Atlantic. Each folder covers one calendar month. If I may… (he picked up the January 1940 folder and turned to 4 January, that very day)…it notes that U30 is southeast of Ireland and U32 west of the Shetlands. U46 is in the Atlantic and U56 and U58 are in the North Sea. U58 was responsible for sinking Swedish vessel Lars Magnus Trozelli on New Year’s Day and Swedish vessel Svarton yesterday. Now it doesn’t give us exact coordinates, but it is enough to give us an idea of where to look for them.
“Looking at tomorrow’s entry you will see U30 is in the Irish Sea, U32 is in the North Channel, and U46 is on its return passage near the Hebrides, and U19 is on passage towards Rattray Head. We know for example it was U30 that was responsible for damaging HMS Barnham in December. I’ve tried to make charts of the probable locations of the various submarines over the next couple of weeks.
“I believe Captain Grose has requested permission to make a demonstration of our ASW abilities. There is a huge amount of information in these diaries, a lot of it will be really useful, I believe that such a demonstration might be particularly effective in the second half of January.
“May I also point out that these diaries also shows the German penetration of the Naval Cipher.” (There was an audible harrumph from more than one of those at the meeting) These detailed reports will obviously be less accurate the more things change, you’ll notice that there is information about HMS Hood, Warspite, Rodney and Suffolk. As we change the code and start to act on some of the intelligence this will become less and less useful. Above all I strongly urge you to examine the Norwegian campaign. If we can seriously interdict that and keep Norway out of the hands of the Nazis, that alone will be a huge game changer to the war.”
The meeting proceeded for another few hours, Parker fielding as many questions as he could, including one "what is a photocopy?" One outcome was that Commodore Grose’s plan for a demonstration was agreed.
5 January 1940. 10:00hrs. Hatfield. Hertfordshire. England.
Geoffrey de Havilland rose from his desk as his visitor entered the office. “Wilfred, to what do I owe the honour seeing you again so soon?”
Air Chief Marshal Sir Wilfred R Freeman: Thank you for seeing me at such short notice Mr de Havilland, there are a couple of pressing matters that we’d appreciate your help with. As you know we’ve been making changes to the Merlin to allow it to take the Rotol propeller. However there are a great many Spitfires and Hurricanes already in service which don’t have the improved propeller. We were wondering about whether your company might be able to fit your constant speed propellers onto those aircraft, as a matter of urgency?
GdH: I believe that should be possible. If I remember correctly the mechanism will be the same as our Hydromatic propeller, but we’ll need to have a Spitfire and a Hurricane to test them on. If you were able to have one of each here, I’ll get in touch with our factory in Bolton, and get a team to bring a couple of sets down so we can get to work immediately.
WF: That is wonderful, there is a Spitfire pilot standing by, so I shall telephone his station and get him on his way as soon as possible. I’ll need to make another call to get a Hurricane, but that will be no problem. Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, there is another thing. Since our meeting on the First, we have decided to go further than just the prototype we agreed on then. I have here a contract under Specification B.1/40 for 150 bomber-reconnaissance variants of the DH.98. In addition we have another Specification F.21/40 for a long range fighter armed with four 20mm cannon and four .303 machine guns in the nose. It should be able to carry an Airborne Interception equipment to enable it be a night fighter. We have an initial order for 150 of these. To be perfectly honest, we believe that this could be a world beating aircraft, and these 300 orders are the first of many.
GdH: Well, that is extraordinarily excellent news! I will inform Eric Bishop immediately to let him know to get his pencils sharpened.
WF: I’m glad to be the bearer of good news. I would urge a sense of urgency for Mr Bishop, and indeed for your whole company. If you could get the design work as far forward as possible, and we might be able to offer some help with that. We would really love to see a prototype in the summer, and if all goes well pre-production before the end of the year. If it was in squadron service by spring of next year, we would be most grateful.
GdH: I really can’t promise you any timings as this point, but we will certainly do our best. This help you’re offering, could you say a little more?
WF: Not at this point, there’s a bit of a sea change about to happen, and your aircraft will be at the cutting edge of where we want to be in 1941. So please expect a lot of help, and probably some pressure too.
GdH: Help and pressure. An interesting combination. Do you have time for some tea Wilfred?
WF: There’s always time for tea, though if you wouldn’t mind contacting Bolton about the propellers first.
GdH: My, it really is a priority.
The Spitfire arrived at Hatfield later that day, joined the following day by a Hurricane. It took four days for de Havilland technicians to make the necessary changes. With the new propeller the modified Spitfire had a shorter take-off run, was much faster in climb, and its maximum altitude increased by 7,000 feet, the same performance as those equipped with the Rotol propeller. Similar improvements were made to the Hurricane’s performance.
Two days after that a convoy of trucks departed the de Havilland factory in Bolton aiming for the various RAF stations where Spitfires were based. Each truck carried six conversion units. The de Havilland engineers did the conversions, training RAF fitters as they did so. They then moved onto the next station. Each Spitfire squadron was thus equipped within three weeks of the initial meeting. Once the Spitfires had been converted work began on the Hurricane Squadrons. Those currently based in France were first, flying back for two days, having the installation done, and then returning to their forward bases.
While they were back in the UK, the pilots were given a series of lectures about proposed changes to the directives on formation flying, aerial tactics and some updated information about the German aircraft they would be facing. Each Squadron was asked to exercise with a four ship formation rather than three. They were paired with Battle or Blenheim Squadrons to practice attacks, and occasionally with a visiting Spitfire Squadron for practicing dogfighting.
6 January 1940. 10:00hrs. Derby. England.
Ernest Hives rose from his desk in the Rolls Royce factory as his visitor entered the office. “Air Chief Marshal, to what do I owe the honour?”
Air Chief Marshal Sir Wilfred R Freeman: Thank you for seeing me at such short notice Mr Hives. I’d like to talk about production of the Merlin if you don’t mind.
EH: Of course, sir. How can I help?
WF: I see from your last report that the shadow factories in Crewe and Glasgow have started production, which is excellent news. There are a number of changes to the planned aircraft production coming before the end of the month and I wanted to give you some pre-warning personally. You may have heard that Lord Nuffield is no longer in charge of the factory at Castle Bromwich?
EH: That must have been quite a conversation between the Prime Minister and his Lordship!
WF: I believe it was, and I’m not sure his Lordship quite knows what happened. A team from Vickers will be arriving there as we speak. However, back to the matter at hand. It is essential that we get as many Spitfires and Hurricanes into the air as quickly as possible. For that we will need to increase the production of your Merlins. The fourth shadow factory planned for Rolls Royce is at Trafford Park, and will be run by Ford, I believe. Currently it isn’t due to start production until early next year. We have been looking at that, and it really has to change. I know it will be difficult to get the machine tools, and train the workforce, but we need that factory as soon as humanly possible. I wonder if I could urge you, in the strongest possible terms to work with Ford and get things moving much more quickly.
EH: I suppose we can do something about it. I will get a team onto it and light a fuse under them.
WF: Thank you, we’d appreciate it. There have been some developments in the last month regarding the war, and so there are a few other things we would appreciate your help with. I’m afraid it is a mixture of both good and bad news.
EH: Why don’t you give me the bad new first, Air Chief Marshall?
WF: We are going to concentrate all of our efforts on just a few aircraft, and therefore engines. Therefore I would urge you to suspend all work on the Peregrine and Vulture engines, just as you have already with the Exe. The Whirlwind and the Manchester are both going to be cancelled. We need you to put all your design expertise into improving the Merlin and developing the Griffon.
EH: Well, that isn’t exactly bad news, I’ve been thinking along the same lines myself, though Westland and Avro can’t be too happy.
WF: We have other plans for those two companies that should satisfy them. Avro will move to a four engined type, based around the Manchester, but we expect it to have four Merlins. I can’t say too much about Westland at the moment. However we have some further bad news, some of your design team are going to be “requisitioned” into another project. This will pay great dividends for you as a company in the future, and again I can’t say too much more on this, but, believe me when I tell you that the name of Rolls Royce will continue to be associated with cutting edge technology for decades to come.
EH: Well, that is intriguing, I have to say. There will be a problem if you are asking us to develop the Merlin and Griffon and at the same time taking away some of my designers.
WF: I understand your concern, however I believe we may be able to compensate you in other ways, but at the moment, again, I can’t say any more. Now, further bad news. It is the desire of His Majesty’s Government that the production of the Merlin should be increased dramatically. To that end we would like you to enter into negotiations with the Packard Motor Car Company in the United States to licence production of the Merlin in America. Now, I know that is something that you have avoided before, and I understand your reasons for it. However such are the numbers of aircraft that are going to be built using the Merlin, and later the Griffon that having another source of engines will be necessary. There is a particular fighter aircraft that we hope will be designed and built in the USA that will be bought by the RAF, but we want it to have your engine.
EH: If I refuse, will I have a telephone conversation with the Prime Minister, as Lord Nuffield did?
WF: I doubt it, but I can’t rule it out. At this point, we would simply want you to begin the process of inquiry about the possibility. We still have to get agreement about the aircraft, and until that is resolved, we can’t be sure about the engine. It would however make life a little easier for the Canadians if they could ship Merlins up from America, rather than across the Atlantic.
EH: When you put it like that, I will of course look into what would be involved. Now I hope you might have some good news, to sweeten this somewhat bitter pill I’m having to swallow.
WF: Well, actually yes. As well as vastly increased orders for the Merlin, and the Griffon in due course, we would also like to have a de-rated Merlin IIIs for the use in land vehicles, specifically tanks. This isn’t exactly my area of expertise, but getting some kind of powerful engine for their tanks has got the Army into a bit of a tizzy. It seems that someone has come up with the brilliant plan to adapt the Merlin. To that end I have here a letter of credit for £1 million pounds to make it happen. I would suggest entering into an agreement with Rover at Tyseley for them to open up a plant for manufacturing, but with your company taking the lead in getting it ready for production. It may be that some of your chassis design team might fit the job for designing tanks and their engines.
EH: A million pounds is quite a sweetener! Once more, I will ask some of my people to look into it. So let me make sure I’ve got this right. You want us to suspend all work on everything bar the Merlin and Griffon. You are going to steal some of my designers for something very hush hush. We’ve to explore a licence deal with the Americans, and you want us to build a tank engine based on the Merlin. Is that about it?
WF: Basically yes, but don’t forget getting Trafford Park up and running as soon as possible. Otherwise that is the gist of it. Thank you for your time.
7 January 1940. 19:00hrs. Greenock. Scotland.
A heavily escorted convoy of merchant ships slipped into Greenock and tied up, a heavy presence of soldiers all around the docks increased the feeling that something very special was happening. During the night the ships were unloaded, and crates of varying size and shape, quickly covered over with tarpaulins, were transferred onto two trains, with a number of soldiers riding in the goods wagons as protection when they departed.
A large number of sailors got into the passenger carriages on the two trains. The men didn’t look any different from any other sailors being transferred, though the fact there had special trains laid on for them was odd. The trains headed south at best possible speed. The first train headed for RAF St Athan, near Cardiff where all aeronautical materials and experts were headed. A large number of engineers, designers and other interested parties from all around the country were given short notice of their transfer to special projects, but their movement took place under a great veil of secrecy.
The second train made its way to Plymouth to the Royal Naval Engineering College at Keyham College. The actual college itself moved to Manadon a little quicker than had originally had been planned. Keyham then became the centre of research and development for nautical design, using the materials that fallen into their laps. Like RAF St Athan the population was quickly increased by all sorts of people from all over the country.
In both sites Bristol men were finding themselves in the company of people who were often heroes to them. Frank Whittle and Barnes Wallis took up residence in Wales. Alan Turing and Tommy Flowers passed through the RAF station to be shown the kind of thing they had fathered. Leaving Wales they went back to Bletchley Park with 8 specialists who joined them to increase the speed and complexity to what was already called “Colossus.”
As well as the two centres that had been set up a large number of academics of various types were visited with encouragement, investment and advice. John Randall and Harry Boot were visited at the University of Birmingham to see how they were progressing with the cavity magnetron, and they found themselves with a few extra pair of hands to get a working design ready for production.
Where possible patents and royalties continued to be honoured. One exception to this was with the introduction of the transistor. Julius Lilienfeld had filed patents in Canada and the United States, and he was approached by the electronics firm Pye Radio Ltd to take up his ideas and try to bring something to fruition. The promised royalties were enough for him to agree. Within a relatively short time a purpose built facility in Cambridge was attempting to develop various types of transistor for several different applications.
A number of other companies found themselves being chosen by the Government for significant investment. There was a large order for radios for the army, and so Philips, despite it being a Dutch company, and supposedly neutral, were encouraged, some would day bribed, by grants and tax breaks to build a new factory near Liverpool to diversify their production base from Holland.
The shadow factories planned before the war were being opened and brought into production as fast as possible. Men from the Ministries of Labour and Production were active in making sure that this process was as smooth and rapid as possible. Castle Bromwich, where Spitfires were supposed to be produced, was particularly singled out for “support” and a number of workers were found other positions in other companies if they didn’t collaborate with the new management regime. Supermarine, and their parent company Vickers, were under no illusion that if Castle Bromwich wasn’t producing Spitfires by February that heads would roll.
The government began to make purchases of a number of rare metals and these were being stockpiled over and above the strategic resources that were already being acquired. The price of certain commodities increased as demand rose, but the quantities that were being sought didn’t lessen.
8 January 1940. 10:00 hrs. Small Heath. Birmingham. England.
Man from the Ministry of Supply: The French have been very helpful with these modifications to the spring, de-icing and the belt feed on the Hispano cannon. We’ll be wanting a great many of these, in fact they’ll probably replace nearly all the Brownings you’re making for aircraft over the next couple of years. When can we expect delivery of the first 12 for testing? Remember, it is urgent.
Director of Birmingham Small Arms Factory: These don’t seem as if they’ll take much doing. I’ll need to check with the engineers, some of these notes are in metric numbers rather than Imperial, so we’ll need to translate that. But, well, how does the end of next week sound for the twelve?
MofS: A week on Friday it is then. Now, we’ve been looking at the shadow factories planned for the Hispano. Of the three factories at Stoke-on-Trent, Corsham and Newcastle-Under-Lyme, we’d like you to get Stoke-on-Trent up and running as quickly as possible. They’ll be working round the clock. When can I tell the minister it will be producing?
BSA: I reckon it will take a good few months to get the machine tools made and installed, then we’d need to get the workforce trained. We could move a few of our teams from here to get them started. Say June for initial production and August for full?
MofS: April and June would be better. Maybe have a few more teams in at the beginning from here?
BSA: That would be pushing it, how about May and July?
MofS: We might be able to get some help from the French with some tools and training, as I said, it is very urgent. So anything you can shave off that would be appreciated. Thank you for your time.
9 January 1940. 09:00hrs. Woolwich. London. England.
Tank Board Meeting, Royal Arsenal. Woolwich.
Attendance: Cmdr E R Micklem (Chair), Mr P Bennett (Director General of Tanks and Transport), Maj General Campbell Clarke (Director of Artillery), Brigadier V Pope (Army Representative), Mr J H Moyses (Birmingham Railway Carriage & Wagon Ltd), Mr W A Robotham (Rolls Royce), Mr G W Thompson (Member of General Council of Trades Union Congress), Mr AAM Durrant (Chief Engineer of London Passenger Transport Board).
Chair: It seems that we have been brought together to sort out what to do about our tanks, and to begin the process of deciding what will replace those currently being produced. We’ve managed to get some details about the German Panzer III and IV which we will be facing and, other than the 37mm gun on the III and the IV’s short HE only gun, we think they are both pretty good, arguably much better than what we have. So we have a look at a new specification, and the guidance from the Ministry of Supply is that we are to aim towards having one “universal” tank. Let’s just talk through some of the big issues now and produce the specifics in due course if that is alright with you?
Vyvyan Pope: So rather than having three types of tank: light, cruiser and infantry, you’re saying that all three should be replaced with something like Panzer “medium” tank, which is about 25 tons? From the army’s point of view there are three things a tank needs: good protection, a good gun and speed. It needs to have a three man turret, be reliable, and easy to manufacture and maintain in the field. No small task to get all of that right.
Harry Moyses: Companies like mine, Birmingham Railway, while we’re working on the A10, just now, we don’t have a lot of experience in designing new tanks.
Roy Robotham: I’ve been working on chassis for Rolls Royce, I really don’t understand why I’ve been asked to sit on this board!
Chair: Harry and Roy have been identified as being people who could start from a blank piece of paper and, with the specifications we decide, make a working AFV. So please don’t underestimate your abilities.
Peter Bennett: I find it interesting that both myself as Director General of Tanks and Transport, and General Clarke as Director of Artillery are both here. I suppose that means that the development of the tank and its gun has to go hand in hand?
Campbell Clarke: Yes, that’s certainly my understanding. The guidance I’ve been given is that we should be looking at the 6-pdr gun as the first choice for this tank, with some debate on whether the French idea of a 75mm gun, which would have a good HE round, but might need some help to have a satisfactory anti-tank round.
Arthur Durrant: The Brigadier mentioned reliability and speed. That depends a great deal on the power plant. We obviously can’t get Maybach to sell us their V12 engine, and currently the Liberty engine is the only one available, unless we try to fit lorry engines into tanks, which I imagine would be a failure.
Chair: Part of the reason that Roy is here is because Rolls Royce have been approached to adapt their Merlin III for a tank engine. That should give plenty of power, which will give good speed, though we will also need to consider range as a factor.
George Thompson: I see from the notes that the Panzer has torsion bar suspension. Is that a possibility, or will the Christie suspension be used?
Peter Bennett: That is an excellent question, as is the gears, the cooling system, in fact pretty much everything. For myself I would argue that the new tank has to be made of cast armour and welded. Rivets or bolts flying around inside the tank are deadly. One of the other things I don’t particularly like about the Panzer IV is it has narrow tracks, on mud they might struggle, so wider tracks for us I think.
Vyvyan Pope: Having been spending time with the men of the Royal Tank Regiment they would have a long list, as you can imagine, but there are a few things that make perfect sense. It has to be easily maintainable. Don’t put something in an awkward space that means you need to take the whole engine out to get to. Perhaps being able to take the whole engine out in one easy stage would be good too, that way if it does break down putting in a new one won’t take too long.
They also wanted good sized hatches, if they need to get out in a hurry, so you may want to think how each crewman gets in and out. They want some kind of boiling vessel so they can make a brew! Where you store the ammunition will be an issue too, they’re worried if the tank gets penetrated how you can minimize the risk of all the ammo blowing up. Also good radio and some kind of improved intercom system so they can speak to one another more easily. Also some way of speaking to the infantry without having to open hatches, one person suggested a kind of telephone at the back of the tank.
Chair: So basically we want the perfect tank, and if at all possible, we’d like it yesterday…
Peter Bennett: May I ask about the current tanks under development? Have any decisions been made, or are we going to have look at that too?
Chair: As I understand it, in general terms, the Mark VI light tank will stop production, allowing Vickers to concentrate on speeding up process of getting the Valentine into production. Regarding the cruisers, the mark I, or the A9, is going to concentrate on the Close Support version with its HE gun. The mark II, or A10, will continue production, but give way to the Valentine as Vickers gets it moving. The cruiser mark III or A13 will go ahead, though probably up-armoured enough to call it a mark IV. Production of this will continue until our new tank replaces it and in due course, the Valentine. What Nuffield are calling the Covenanter, the cruiser mark V, will be cancelled, so that more production resources can go into A13 and prepare the way for the universal tank. The A15 Crusader, which is a development of the A13, is under consideration as the basis of a family of vehicles such as self-propelled guns, both artillery and anti-aircraft, armoured personnel carriers and specialised engineering vehicles. It doesn’t offer that much of an improvement over the A13 as a tank to warrant replacing it on production lines.
As for the infantry tanks, the Matilda I will come to an end almost immediately and Vulcan will be asked to put all of their efforts to get Matilda IIs into service. The Valentine falls somewhere in between the infantry and cruiser tanks, a heavy cruiser if you will. All of this means that our Tank Brigades will be a mixture of Mk VI lights, A9, A10, A13, Matilda IIs and Valentines. That gentlemen is why we want one “universal” tank.
George Thompson: There are a lot of companies involved in all of this, many of them have no experience of building tanks, not even of heavy engineering. A lot of workers are being asked to work on something about which they are unprepared and untrained. I foresee problems in quality control unless that is addressed.
Arthur Durrant: With all of these new factories being opened, would it be worth assigning one or two of them to be devoted exclusively to tank manufacture? If we’re talking about welding rather than riveting or bolting, the workers will need to be trained on that. If we are aiming to get this new tank into production in a year, which to be honest seems a bit ambitious to my way of thinking, maybe we could use that time to set up the factories, get the right tools and training, so that when production begins, it is streamlined.
Chair: I believe we have a good deal to work on, and I feel that we have a good team here to get on with it. So, shall we move into specifics? General Clarke, let’s talk guns shall we?
10 January 1940. 09:00hrs. Vulcan Plant, Newton-le-Willows, Lancashire. England.
Man from the War Office: So, as you know, we’ve curtailed the Matilda I and have given you a larger order for the Matilda II. I’m here today to ask if you can put everything into the Matilda II and get as many of them ready by April, even if you have to go to twenty-four hour working, we need as many of them as we can get as quickly as possible.
Director of Vulcan: They are terribly slow to make. I can get more shifts on to increase production a bit, but the grinding is specialised work. I’m not sure how many more we can produce in a few months.
MWO: Regarding that, as you know we approached Ruston & Hornsby to begin production of the Matilda II last September. What we would like to do now is to approach a number of other firms: William Fowler; London, Midland & Scottish Railway; Harland & Wolff and North British Locomotive Works to support production with some of the castings and other bits and pieces. We are hoping that many hands will make light work. Tank production is now at the highest level of priority in the country, followed a close second by aircraft manufacture. So you see, everything that can be done, needs to be done.
DV: I suppose we could have a word with those other companies and sort out who would make what, then bring it all here and assemble them. That would certainly make things go along a bit quicker.
MWO: That would be very helpful. In addition we will accept some changes to the tank to speed production up. I believe the hull side coverings could be left off or simplified, if that would save time. Now, between us, I believe a new tank design may be in the works, and if you are able to help us with this, I’m sure that will be taken into account when we look at ordering the next tank.
DV: Well, I’m sure we’d want to bid on that. I’ll talk to the managers to see if we can’t get you as many tanks as we can in the meantime.
11 January 1940. 09:00hrs. RAF St Athan. Wales.
“Gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to a few of the weapons that are used by British forces in the future, and hopefully the near future. Let us begin with something you will be completely unfamiliar with. This is the Carl Gustav 84mm recoilless rifle. Somewhat different from the Boys elephant gun you are currently using, I think you’ll find. This is a single shot, breech loading weapon with a rifled barrel. The thing that makes this so powerful is the shaped charge "HEAT" (High Explosive Anti-Tank) round. Shaped charges are already around in various forms, you will be familiar with the Munroe Effect. Now, the Charlie G is a heavy, awkward piece of kit to lug around. When it goes off it's like the world farting and the cheeks of its arse slapping you round the head. Fire off too many rounds and you’ll feel concussed. But if you hit a Panzer with this thing, it will ruin their whole day. You can hit a moving target out to 150 meters, and stationary targets up to 700m.
“This is the L1A1 Self Loading Rifle, or SLR. It is a semi-automatic, that is, it fires one shot each time you pull the trigger, without the need to cycle the bolt yourself; it has a twenty round detachable box magazine. The L1A1 is a reliable, hard-hitting, gas-operated, magazine-fed semi-automatic rifle. It is very accurate out to 600m. Obviously if it is chosen to replace the Lee Enfield, there will be an issue with the cartridge. The .303 as you know is a rimmed round, and that will cause problems. I get the impression however that no one is keen on changing guns and ammunition at this point.
“This is the Sterling submachine gun. It takes the 9 x 19mm Parabellum round. Its rate of fire is 550 rounds per minute and is accurate enough out to 200 yards, though 100 is more likely. The magazine holds 34 rounds. It is very useful for close in work, and at 6lbs weight, is a useful little number for carrying around. Sub-machine guns are extremely useful, and I believe that you may want to give this serious consideration.
“This however, it the piece-de resistance. The L7A2 General Purpose Machine Gun, known affectionately as the Gimpy. Effective range of the GPMG light role is 800m. In the Sustained Fire role it is 1800m and using map predictive fire 3000m. Its cyclic rate of fire is between 750-1000 rounds per minute. Practically about 200 in sustained fire, and 100 in light role. The problem will be that it will difficult to adapt it for .303. One suggestion is to use this instead of the BESA on tanks, but using the same 7.92 x 57mm Mauser round. Hopefully there will be a lot of captured German kit lying around to keep it fed.
“Now, Gentlemen, you can see on the table here various other pieces of kit for your perusal today. The Browning 9mm pistol is probably already familiar to you; the M79 grenade launcher, the 66mm LAW disposable rocket launcher, and beside the table the L16 81mm mortar. We also have the L9 A1 51mm, but it is basically the same as the 2 inch mortar currently in use. There are however some types of rounds for it that you will find useful. The Olna was carrying good quantities of these weapons and ammunition as part of her cargo. There were also a few other bigger bits of kit that the RAF will be interested in.
“So, shall we go to the firing range and try out some of our goodies? Good, follow me then, and feel free to ask any questions…”
11 January 1940. 10:00hrs. Plymouth. England.
In a Nissan Hut in Keyham College.
Bristol Man: So that was the Hedgehog, which was replaced by the Squid launcher that I was trained on, and then there was the Limbo, which has just been taken out of service. I was on the old Salisbury, which was the last operator of the Squid. I’ve written down as much as I can remember about its system and operation. Though to be honest, I think the Hedgehog will do in the meantime. The fuse was really interesting on the Hedgehog. The problem with a contact fuse is how you get it not to explode on contact with the sea. Some boffin came up a kind of propeller system. So the bomb is fired and enters the sea, the propeller is then turned by the water as it sinks, three or four turns later the fuse is armed and, if it hits a sub, BOOM. Really clever. There was book called "The Secret War 1939-45" that covered all of that kind of thing. You should ask around to see if anyone has a copy, it will be dead useful.
11 January 1940. 11:00hrs. RAF St Athan. Wales.
In a Nissan Hut in RAF St Athan.
PO (Missile) Harry Collins: “And that Sir, is the Exocet missile. To be honest, I don’t think it is worth bothering doing much with this at this point. There are bits and pieces in here that will take years of development to replicate. I think if we had fired it at the Graf Spee it would just have burned off some paint. So it’s not really worth bothering about. The missiles you should be looking at are the 2 inch rocket pods that the Olna was carrying down to the carriers. They’re unguided, and should be able to be reproduced with that you already have. If you want missiles that may be your best hope. All the others that I’m familiar with – Sea Dart, Sea Wolf, Sea Cat, even Sea Slug are some way off. Sorry I can’t be more help sir.”
In another Nissan Hut in RAF St Athan.
PO (Weapons) John Reynolds. I’m sorry but I wasn’t trained on this, but helpfully there was a manufacturer’s leaflet with it on the Olna. It was carrying forty of these BL755 Cluster Bombs. It is an area attack and area denial weapon. The bomb weighs 600lb. The casing contains 147 HEAT bomblets packed in seven sections of 21 rounds each. Someone has explained HEAT to you yes? Good. When released from the aircraft the outer casing covers are jettisoned by a gas ejector at one of four pre-set times. The bomblets are then ejected sideways up to 60ft. Each of the bomblet deploys a small parachute to make sure it explodes on impact. The shaped charge produces a jet of high velocity, high temperature plasma which can punch through up to 250mm armour. In addition they release of 2000 pieces of shrapnel produces a secondary anti-personnel effect.
Basically it wipes out anything it falls on within the size of a football pitch, maybe a bit bigger. Drop this on a tank battalion and they won’t come out to play again. It is very nasty. I remember reading that the Soviets had a kind of early version of this called a PtAB, I’m not sure what it stands for. But basically it was a small bomb, about 2.5kg, about 5 and a half pounds, with 3lbs of explosive. You drop a bunch, say forty of those and you cover a greater area than dropping a 250lb general purpose bomb, at least on armour. It also gives your pilots a better chance of hitting something. Worth thinking about.