Read Online Alternate Generals by Roland Green, Harry Turtledove, Martin H. Greenberg - Free Book Online
Book: Alternate Generals by Roland Green, Harry Turtledove, Martin H. Greenberg
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Cape Malea, far enough north that their smoke would be dispersed up its steep slopes. He would put parties ashore who could signal when the Germans were well into the channel.
The signal flashed, and flashed again. Cradock smiled at the charts, and then at his flag captain. Souchon was as bold and resolute as his reputation. He had chosen the direct route, after shaking off Gloucester back at Matapan. Cradock had fretted over the signals from above that told of exchange of shots between Gloucester and Breslau ; the minutes when the Goeben turned back to support Breslau —when he feared she might turn away from the northern passage altogether—had racked his nerves, the more so as he could not see for himself what was going on.
But the Germans had gone straight on when Gloucester turned away, and now—now they were well into the passage.
Defence grumbled beneath him, power held in check like a horse before the start of a run. Below, stokers shoveled more coal into the maws of the furnaces; boilers hissed as the pressure rose. Thicker smoke oozed from the funnels, whirled away in dark tendrils by the wind. Cradock could almost see the engineering officers and engine crew, alert for every overheated bearing, every doubtful boiler tube. Gun crews were at their stations, the first rounds already loaded and primed, awaiting only the gunlayers' signals.
But ships could not reach racing speed as fast as horses; he had to guess, from the positions signalled to him, the moment to begin the run-up. He wanted the cruisers to be moving fast when they cleared the island. So much depended on things he could not know—how fast the Goeben was, how fast she could still go, how Souchon would react to the sudden appearance of hostile ships in front of him.
Signals flashed down, translated quickly into Goeben 's position on the chart in front of him. She was not racing through; she was up to nineteen knots now, but keeping a steady course, well out from either side of the channel, Breslau trailing her. When . . . when . . . ? He felt it, more than saw it in the figures on the chart. Now .
Defence surged forward, behind Black Prince , and ahead of Warrior . Cradock squinted up at the lookout. The Germans would be watching carefully; they had the sun over their shoulders, perfect viewing. But surprise should still gain Black Prince the first shot. She had won her vanguard position on the basis of an extra knot of speed and her gunnery record. He put into his ears the little glass plugs the Admiralty provided.
Across the passage, fourteen sea miles, he saw dark smoke gush from the funnels of the Duke of Edinburgh and the destroyers. In minutes, it would drift out across the passage, but by then they would be visible anyway.
For an instant, the beauty of the scene caught him: on a fair summer afternoon, the trim ships steaming in order under the rugged cliffs. Then his vision exploded in fire and smoke, as Black Prince fired her port 9.2-inch guns; the smoke blew down upon Defence coming along behind, and obscured his vision for an instant. Then Defence was clear of the point, and at that moment he saw the raw fire of Goeben 's forward turrets, just as Defense rocked to the recoil of her own. White spouts of water near Goeben showed that Black Prince 's gunners had almost found her range.
Too late now for fear or anxiety; his heart lifted to the raw savagery of the guns, shaking every fiber, the heart-stopping stink of cordite smoke, chocolate in the afternoon sun, blowing over him. Black Prince 's port guns fired again, and behind, he heard the bellow of Warrior 's, as she too cleared the point. The shells screamed on their way like harpies out of Greek legend.
The Goeben 's first shots rocked the sea nearby, sending up spouts of white. Had she picked out the Defence ? She would surely try to sink the flagship, but he trusted his captains to carry on. His orders had been clear enough: "Our objective is to sink
The signal flashed, and flashed again. Cradock smiled at the charts, and then at his flag captain. Souchon was as bold and resolute as his reputation. He had chosen the direct route, after shaking off Gloucester back at Matapan. Cradock had fretted over the signals from above that told of exchange of shots between Gloucester and Breslau ; the minutes when the Goeben turned back to support Breslau —when he feared she might turn away from the northern passage altogether—had racked his nerves, the more so as he could not see for himself what was going on.
But the Germans had gone straight on when Gloucester turned away, and now—now they were well into the passage.
Defence grumbled beneath him, power held in check like a horse before the start of a run. Below, stokers shoveled more coal into the maws of the furnaces; boilers hissed as the pressure rose. Thicker smoke oozed from the funnels, whirled away in dark tendrils by the wind. Cradock could almost see the engineering officers and engine crew, alert for every overheated bearing, every doubtful boiler tube. Gun crews were at their stations, the first rounds already loaded and primed, awaiting only the gunlayers' signals.
But ships could not reach racing speed as fast as horses; he had to guess, from the positions signalled to him, the moment to begin the run-up. He wanted the cruisers to be moving fast when they cleared the island. So much depended on things he could not know—how fast the Goeben was, how fast she could still go, how Souchon would react to the sudden appearance of hostile ships in front of him.
Signals flashed down, translated quickly into Goeben 's position on the chart in front of him. She was not racing through; she was up to nineteen knots now, but keeping a steady course, well out from either side of the channel, Breslau trailing her. When . . . when . . . ? He felt it, more than saw it in the figures on the chart. Now .
Defence surged forward, behind Black Prince , and ahead of Warrior . Cradock squinted up at the lookout. The Germans would be watching carefully; they had the sun over their shoulders, perfect viewing. But surprise should still gain Black Prince the first shot. She had won her vanguard position on the basis of an extra knot of speed and her gunnery record. He put into his ears the little glass plugs the Admiralty provided.
Across the passage, fourteen sea miles, he saw dark smoke gush from the funnels of the Duke of Edinburgh and the destroyers. In minutes, it would drift out across the passage, but by then they would be visible anyway.
For an instant, the beauty of the scene caught him: on a fair summer afternoon, the trim ships steaming in order under the rugged cliffs. Then his vision exploded in fire and smoke, as Black Prince fired her port 9.2-inch guns; the smoke blew down upon Defence coming along behind, and obscured his vision for an instant. Then Defence was clear of the point, and at that moment he saw the raw fire of Goeben 's forward turrets, just as Defense rocked to the recoil of her own. White spouts of water near Goeben showed that Black Prince 's gunners had almost found her range.
Too late now for fear or anxiety; his heart lifted to the raw savagery of the guns, shaking every fiber, the heart-stopping stink of cordite smoke, chocolate in the afternoon sun, blowing over him. Black Prince 's port guns fired again, and behind, he heard the bellow of Warrior 's, as she too cleared the point. The shells screamed on their way like harpies out of Greek legend.
The Goeben 's first shots rocked the sea nearby, sending up spouts of white. Had she picked out the Defence ? She would surely try to sink the flagship, but he trusted his captains to carry on. His orders had been clear enough: "Our objective is to sink
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