Doppelganger (10 page)

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Authors: John Schettler

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Military, #Space Fleet, #Time Travel, #Alternate History

BOOK: Doppelganger
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“Right ten degrees at the double quick. Move!”

 

* * *

 

HMS
Invincible
was coming on, and right into the thick of that last German salvo. Axel Faust beamed when he saw a single round strike the ship, and he knew it must be his.

“Got the bastard!” he beamed. “We’re counterpunching off the ropes! Let’s give them another.”

His own 16-inch shell was the biggest on any ship in the German Navy, from the 40.6cm SK C/34 gun, screaming out of Axel’s turret at over 2600 feet per second. The shell was heavier than the British round, at 1,030 kg. If the turret had not found its way to the
Hindenburg
, it would have ended up as “Battery Lindemann” on the French coast, in honor of the Captain of the
Bismarck
who was supposed to lose his life this month. Yet that history was now on the scales of time and fate, and Lindemann was still very much alive, and more than happy to cede the turret to Axel Faust.

Invincible
was equally well armored, with all of 8 inches on key deck areas, 14 inches at the belt, and 17.5 inches shielding her massive turrets. But Faust was going to hit the much smaller 4.7 inch AA gun mounted right to the starboard side of the conning tower, and it would be completely demolished, and all its ready ammo also fed the explosion, sending off a series of jolting reports, like fitful firecrackers. The shrapnel took a heavy toll on the deck crews near the second 4.7 inch twin gun mount, but when the smoke of the initial blast cleared, the fire there was not serious.

So right at the outset, both sides had landed good punches, and now Tovey saw the German ships begin to angle into a turn. He might have one, or possibly two more salvos where he actually outgunned both enemy ships combined, but they would soon double their firepower.

“Now or never, Mister Connors,” he said, and the boom of the guns answered with the ship’s fourth salvo, this time four barrels, quickly followed by the remaining five. Of those nine shells, Connors’ luck would hold long enough to see one of them strike the
Hindenburg
, and it would be a very telling blow.

Yet even while those shells were in flight,
Bismarck
had put in a good shot with its third salvo, and Tovey felt the hard thunk and explosion of a side armor hit.

“No worry there, gentlemen,” he said calmly. “That was on the main belt, and our hide is as thick as they come.” The
King George V
class actually had slightly heavier belt armor, but what it added there in protection, it had lost in much needed speed.

“Range?” asked Tovey.

“I make it a tad under 22,000 yards sir,” said Connors.

“Let’s make good use of it,” the Admiral replied. “We’ll be inside 20,000 in little time .”

 

* * *

 

Lütjens
had seen the hit on
Invincible
, and wanted a better look. He was outside on the weather deck off the Admiral’s bridge when it happened, the luck of Mister Connors, and the single shell of the nine he had fired that struck a fatal blow—not for the ship, but for the man standing on that weather bridge, the Admiral himself. Lütjens had just raised his field glasses to have his curiosity satisfied.

Let’s see what we’ve done here, he thought, and that was the last thing to run through his mind before the shrapnel came. When Connors’ round struck the heavily armored conning tower, protected by 14 inches of Krup Cemented Steel, and with a roof nearly 8 inches thick, the cruel metal splinters suddenly swept the field glasses from the Admiral’s hand, and smashed into his right temple, killing him instantly.

For a brief moment, the Admiral’s legs still held strength, then his body slumped to the deck, his life’s blood bleeding from a catastrophic head wound. In those dark, dangerous seconds, Johann Gunther Lütjens stopped being something the universe was doing, and the process that had begun on the 25th of May, 1889, now ceased, just a few weeks shy of his 52nd birthday. Every experience of his life, and memories recorded in his long distinguished naval career, came to a sudden and absolute end. He would never know what happened to him, how he would die, or have even a single moment to contemplate his fate. One moment he was there, in the fullness of his prime, calmly assessing the damage his guns might have inflicted on the distant enemy. The next moment he was simply gone, the flame of his consciousness blown out, and never to shine again.

At that instant, the overall command of the battle had quickly passed from the calm and calculating mind of Lütjens, to that of his eager, yet less experienced Kapitan Adler. Fate had tapped the shoulder of one key player that had been slated to go into the void of death that very month, though there was an entire ship’s crew aboard
Bismarck
that was once destined to die as well. Whether that would happen this day remained to be decided by this terrible contest of guns versus armor.

The blast and shock of the hit shattered glass in the wind screen of the conning tower, ripped away shutters on a nearby signals platform, and shook loose a voice tube on the bridge, sending it gyrating back and forth in a noisome clatter against a nearby bulkhead. Three men were also shaken off their feet, and Adler took a white knuckled grip on the binnacle.

 By the time he realized what had happened, and the bridge crew got sorted out, he had allowed the range to continue to close until it was now inside 18,000 meters. The turn he had made was aimed at exposing the rear firing arcs of his ships to bring another eight guns into the deadly calculus of this battle. Yet in the heat of the action he had foolishly forgotten Lütjens last remonstration.
Bismarck
still ran on a fast parallel course, and was now interposed between the
Hindenburg
and the oncoming British ship, still charging boldly into the fray, all guns firing.

The sudden news in the discovery of Lütjens death had also served as a distraction, and no flag signals had been sent to order
Bismarck
to take station behind. Fortunately, Kapitan Lindemann saw what was happening and cut speed to fall off on
Hindenburg
’s wake, but not before
Invincible
was able to put another full 9-round salvo right into the formation. This time it was
Bismarck
suffering the hit, and at this range the 16-inch shells striking the belt could penetrate just over 13 inches of armor, which was just enough to do the job. The penetration was not serious, but jets of fiery steel shot through the minor breach to lacerate the inner hull.

“Range at 17,300 meters,” shouted Eisenberg. “We’ll do better at 20,000, Kapitan.”

Adler folded his arms, almost protectively, and still somewhat shocked by the suddenness of the Admiral’s demise. His ship had already been riddled by at least fifteen smaller caliber rounds from the harassing attack put in by
Argos Fire
. Now he could finally see his enemy, still bemused to think this ship could have put those lighter hits on them while still over the horizon. Yet
Hindenburg
had also received two hits from heavy guns off the
Invincible
, and Lütjens was dead.

What was Eisenberg trying to tell him?
Open the range!
They were letting the British run in too close. Inside 15,000 meters these monstrous guns could blast right through his belt armor, penetrating 14.4 inches of steel. Both ships had nearly that, and yet both would now be vulnerable. He did not know that to a certainty, not with the cold measurements of a ruler, but he could sense the rising danger as the enemy ship loomed ever larger, and the warning was evident in Eisenberg’s statement.

“Helm! Come left fifteen and ahead full battle speed! Signal
Bismarck
to follow.” This time he remembered his signals flags, though he knew that if the British ship persisted in its daring approach, it would now be very difficult to really open the range. He finally had his battle, yet the smell of blood was on the wind, tainting the dark rolling soot and smoke with a tinge of added danger.

 

* * *

 

“A hit sir!” Connors exclaimed. “Well up on the conning tower. That had to shake them up.”

“Nothing like putting one right on the noggin,” said Tovey. “Good show, Mister Connors. Look, they’re all in a jumble with that turn. And that lead ship has a broken finger. Give them all nine guns!”

Connors was only too happy to comply, as he could now see the aft segments of both ships light up with gunfire, and knew
Invincible
was going to be outgunned fifteen to nine. That was a considerable margin, and if they had to turn and attempt to break away, the very same gun configuration that made
Invincible
so deadly as it charged, would now work against them. There were eight 6-inch guns, all mounted aft behind the funnels, but it would be much more difficult to open up firing arcs for the bigger turrets. X-turret would be completely blind dead aft, unlike a similar rear mounted turret in a more classically configured ship design. To get it into action, the ship would again have to withdraw in a zig-zag, allowing the X-turret to fire at an angle of at least 15 degrees. The two forward turrets would need at least twice that to look over their shoulder and stay engaged. The ship was never meant to run from a fight.

These were all things running through Tovey’s mind as
Invincible
kept on with its charge. If I turn, he thought, they’ll have all their guns available to sight on our full silhouette. For those minutes, the ship will be much more vulnerable, and when we run we can’t hit them as hard on those rear firing arcs. What I miss now is a good pack of hunting dogs! Fighting here without a destroyer escort was a clear liability, but there was no way they could trail along through the Med. I counted heavily on the Russian ship standing with me, and now our entire battle squadron has been scattered.

If I turn here, what will Lütjens do? Will he follow and give chase, or merely take his shots and come round to finish
Rodney
? Why should I give him any choice at all? No. All our teeth are right up front, and thinking of the destroyers, I’ve another little surprise, a legacy of the era that saw this ship built, so let it roll.

“Mister Bennett,” he said to the Captain. “Steady on, and make ready on all torpedo tubes.”

The Captain raised an eyebrow, yet he knew what Tovey intended now. They were going in, hell bent, and the Admiral aimed to make this a fight to the death. The
Invincible
had a pair of submerged torpedo tubes forward of the A-turret, and carried eight massive 24-inch lances that were driven by oxygen enriched air. They had two speed settings and were already in range of the enemy ships. At 35 knots they could run out 15,000 yards, and at 30 knots that extended to 20,000 yards, the interval that now separated the two sides.

Other ships had them from that era, including
Rodney
, which saw them become the liability that rent her hull open when the
Tirpitz
struck the torpedo magazine. Other ships would normally fire from the broadside, but
Invincible
had a rotating torpedo mount below decks, and could alter the angle of the tubes by up to 15 degrees. This gave him a little flexibility, and the innovation would allow him to fire as he continued to close the range, which was exactly what he intended to do.

Tovey had no intention of turning full broadside. He was running all out, his forward silhouette still presenting a much more difficult target for the enemy as his bow was aimed right at them. All he had to do was make five or ten point zigzags to allow X-turret to fire, and with his slight speed advantage he was inexorably closing on his enemy. He was making a battleship sized torpedo run, as any destroyer might, only he had nine 16-inch guns to use on the way in.

“Set torpedoes to mode one. Speed 35.”

That was an obvious choice, as
Invincible
would literally outrun her own torpedoes at the longer range setting. Yet to use mode one, Tovey knew he needed to get well inside that 15,000 yard range marker to give the torpedoes any chance. So it was all or nothing now, and the Admiral was pushing all his chips out onto the table.

The Germans were trying to cross his T, but at the last minute, he would swing hard to starboard to aim his nose at a point well ahead of the enemy formation, and then send four lances out at 35 knots, each one tipped with nearly 750 pounds of TNT. Then he would come hard to port and add four more torpedoes to widen his spread. Unless the German formation turned radically off their present heading, he knew they would face the prospect of taking a deadly hit. Captain Adler had insisted on coming to the ball, and soon, in that wild minute when the watchmen shouted out the torpedo warning, he and his ship would have to learn to dance.

 

 

Chapter 9

 

On
came Tovey, standing like a carved statue on the Admiral’s bridge of
Invincible
, his face and eyes set. The long bow of the ship was carving through the sea, the wash of grey-green water high over the wet iron anchor chains stretched along the deck. Behind them the massive steel fingers of the guns reached for the enemy as the ship roared out its anger. Connors had shifted to a 6-3 pattern on his salvos, with both forward turrets firing together, while the X turret waited for the ship to turn and open its forward angle as
Invincible
jogged left and right.

The battlecruiser remained a difficult target, even as the range closed inside 15,000 meters, about nine miles from the German formation. The death of Lütjens, and the damage slowly accumulating on the
Hindenburg,
had dampened Adler’s ardor for battle somewhat, yet he still believed the day must surely be his. When he saw
Bismarck
score a hit amidships forward of the twin funnels on
Invincible
, he took heart. Yet the damage was not as severe as it might have been on a ship with a more conventional design. The entire area was swept clean to give X-turret clear angles of fire. There was no superstructure built there, and so the 15-inch shell found only the hard steel of the 8-inch deck, and its shallow angle could not penetrate. Shrapnel flailed the turret, causing no harm, and scored the forward funnel, causing it to stream smoke in odd places, but otherwise the ship was not hurt.

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