The Sinking of the Bismarck (8 page)

The nearest destroyers to him, as it happened, were those of Captain Vian. Could the Admiralty risk detaching them from the troop convoy and sending them to protect Sir John’s two battleships? If this were done, the ships of the convoy would be sitting ducks for a single German submarine. Twenty thousand British troops might be drowned in an hour. It was a hard decision to make. But it was made. Captain Vian was ordered to leave the convoy and steam at full speed north for the British battleships some 300 miles away. He began the dash at 2:00
A.M.
on May 26.

When he heard, just before noon, that the Catalina had sighted an enemy battleship, the Captain was somehow sure that she must be the
Bismarck
. At that moment he was only about three hours’ fast traveling time from a meeting with Admiral Tovey’s battleships. Without waiting for fresh orders—indeed in violation of his standing orders to make a junction with Sir John’s ships—Captain
Vian turned around and dashed off at full speed through heavy seas with his five destroyers toward the enemy. He knew he could get to the
Bismarck
well ahead of the
King George V
and
Rodney
. With luck he might slow her up for them with his torpedoes.

***

That also was the all-important mission of the
Ark Royal
. Since noon of May 26, her shadowing planes had been hovering over the
Bismarck
. It was now time to attack her with aerial torpedoes launched from the carrier’s Swordfish.

By 2:30
P.M.
every aircraft available—fifteen in all—was up on the flight deck. Torpedoes were loaded and engines started. The storm still blew and the waves were high. The whole deck was drenched with spray and as slippery as a skating rink. At 2:50 the take-off began. A British observer later described the scene.

The fifteen Swordfish ranged on the pitching flight deck, each wing-tip within inches of the next… Their engines roaring… The spray from the waves dashing against their wings and soaking them… Sailors at the chocks [which
held the wheels] bracing their bodies against the driving wind and the pitch of the ship… The Commander on the bridge trying to time his moment for the lifting of the ship, then lifting his green flag for a takeoff… One plane trying to get up flying speed uphill when the ship lifted… The next being forced to run downhill almost into the waves when the bow sank…

It seemed a miracle to the ship’s crew when all fifteen planes got off safely. The pilots had been told that they would find the
Bismarck
about forty miles to the south. Since she would be all alone, there could be no mistaking her.

Aboard the
King George V
Admiral Tovey received a radio message from Vice-Admiral Somerville advising that his Swordfish had taken off at 3:00
P.M.
for a torpedo attack on the
Bismarck
. This was welcome news to the Commander in Chief. He knew that everything depended on the success of the planes in slowing up the enemy.

Shortly after three o’clock he was further heartened by the appearance of the
Rodney
on the horizon off the
King George V
’s port beam. By 6:00
P.M.
they joined up. The older ship could make only twenty-two knots in the heavy seas and
she signaled this to Tovey, who had the speed of his flagship reduced accordingly. But after a few minutes the
Rodney
signaled: “I am afraid your twenty-two knots is a bit faster than ours.” Tovey remarked with a chuckle that one could almost hear the old
Rodney
panting for breath as she tried to keep up. His ship reduced speed slightly.

At such a slow pace, Sir John was reducing his chances of overtaking the
Bismarck
. In fact, he now realized he had no chance at all—unless the
Ark Royal
’s Swordfish pressed home their torpedo attack and scored enough hits to bring down the
Bismarck
’s speed by half. No planes had ever succeeded in doing that, he knew, to a battleship.

It was natural, then, that Admiral Tovey should be impatient for news from the
Ark Royal
as the crucial afternoon waned. The Swordfish should have reached their target, he calculated, by 3:30
P.M.
But 4:00
P.M.
came and 5:00
P.M.
and 6:00
P.M.
—and there was no news. The silence became almost unbearable.

It was broken at 6:30
P.M.
by shattering news. Sir James Somerville radioed that his planes had
failed to score any hits. Sir James did not say why. Admiral Tovey concluded that they must have been held off by the powerful anti-aircraft guns of the German battleship or handicapped by poor visibility in the storm or both. But these were not the reasons at all.

Another terrible but human error had occurred in the high-seas drama.

Because the weather was so foul and getting worse, Vice-Admiral Somerville had begun to worry that his shadowing aircraft might lose sight of the
Bismarck
. He had therefore decided to send on his cruiser
Sheffield
to establish surface contact with the enemy. She could not only shadow the
Bismarck
but also direct his planes to the exact target. So at 1:30
P.M.
the
Sheffield
left Force H and made at high speed toward the German battleship.

Watchers on the
Ark Royal
, busy landing then-scouting planes and preparing for the big take-off at 2:50
P.M.
, did not notice the cruiser slipping away. Somerville radioed the carrier of this action, and the coded message was received. But it was not immediately deciphered. The cipher staff on
the
Ark Royal
was too busy at the moment decoding a stream of radio messages from the carrier’s own planes shadowing the
Bismarck
.

In the meantime the Swordfish, flying blind through cloud and mist, had spotted a ship on their radars in the approximate position of the
Bismarck
. Since they had been told that the German battleship would be alone and that no British vessels were in the immediate vicinity, they dived to the attack. Roaring down out of the clouds, they clearly sighted their target and closed in. Perhaps they should have recognized that it was the
Sheffield
. For months they had been making dummy attacks on her during training in the Mediterranean. But in the heat of impending battle and in the bad visibility they did not recognize her. They began skimming over the waves toward her to launch their torpedoes.

At that precise moment, back on the
Ark Royal
, a signal officer was racing as fast as his legs would carry him on a lurching ship to the cabin of Captain Maund. The message from the Vice-Admiral about the
Sheffield
had just been decoded.

The Captain hurriedly read it. There was not a moment to lose. Desperate, dangerous measures were called for. No matter if Admiral Luetjens on the
Bismarck
heard his signals! Captain Maund immediately cast caution to the winds. He sent out an open urgent radio message in clear, un-coded English to his fliers: “WATCH OUT FOR THE SHEFFIELD! WATCH OUT FOR THE SHEFFIELD!”

It was too late.

Torpedoes from the Swordfish were already churning through the water toward the
Sheffield
. Captain Larcom on the cruiser had received the signal that the Swordfish had flown off the carrier at 3:00
P.M.
He was therefore expecting to see them as they flew over. He had not quite got within sight of the
Bismarck
, but he knew she was just over the horizon. He could direct the planes right on to the nearby target.

But to his amazement the British planes, when he got his first sight of them, were diving straight down at him. Giving the command for full speed and a zigzag course to avoid torpedoes, he ordered his anti-aircraft guns not to fire. In this way, he was sure, he would make it plain to the
pilots that they were mistakenly attacking one of their own ships.

The planes, however, kept coming in and launching their torpedoes. Six or seven came dangerously close. But most of the torpedoes, Captain Larcom noticed, exploded harmlessly on hitting the water. This discovery, ironically, was to play a vital role in the drama before the long day was over.

Finally the last three planes recognized their mistake and swerved off without dropping their torpedoes. One of them flew over the cruiser and signaled: “Sorry for the kipper!”

It was a despondent crew of pilots that brought their Swordfish back to the
Ark Royal
that afternoon. The seas were even higher than they had been when the aircraft took off. Three planes crashed on the pitching flight deck as they attempted to land. This only added to a miserable failure. Knowing that the fate of the whole enterprise depended on their crippling the
Bismarck
, the pilots had taken off full of determination. They had been told she was the only target in the vicinity. They had attacked her. But the
target had turned out to be the wrong ship—one of their own.

Captain Maund had not been aware of what was happening until the plane crews returned and reported to him. He told them to forget it, that it was not really their fault. After advising them to get some hot food for their chilled bodies, he promised they would be given another chance before dark.

***

At 6:30 that evening Admiral Tovey heard that the
Ark Royal
’s planes had failed to hit the
Bismarck
. The report plunged him into gloom. He had no inkling that the Swordfish had attacked the wrong ship. He assumed that they had valiantly tried to get at the German battleship but had been driven off by her flak guns or had found the visibility too bad to get in close enough for their torpedoes to take effect.

Vice-Admiral Somerville had promised a second attack before dark, but the Commander in Chief by this time was somewhat skeptical of carrier planes being of any use against battleships. He had had some disillusioning experiences in that
regard during the last couple of days and was convinced that he could count no longer on the planes of the
Ark Royal
. Captain Vian’s five destroyers would be reaching the
Bismarck
shortly before midnight. But Admiral Tovey’s experience was that destroyer attacks at night seldom succeeded. He had exhausted his opportunities. He might as well face it: he had lost the race.

To complicate the situation his two battleships were running low on fuel. The oil tanks on the
King George V
were down to thirty-two per cent of capacity and those of the
Rodney
were even lower. In fact, the
Rodney
had just signaled that she would have to turn home not later than eight o’clock the next morning to refuel. The two big ships would also have to reduce speed if they hoped to get home on the oil they had. This meant that there would be increased danger from submarine and air attack.

Sir John Tovey was a realist. In addition to facing the abandonment of the chase for the
Bismarck
, galling as that was, he had to consider the risk of losing the
King George V
and the
Rodney
because of reduced speed on the way home. The
Hood
was sunk, the
Prince of Wales
crippled. His flagship was the only ship left in the British navy which could stand up to the
Bismarck
in speed and gun power. In a few months, Tovey knew, the Germans would have the
Bismarck
’s sister ship, the
Tirpitz
, ready for action. As commander in chief he could not risk so weakening the British Home Fleet as to give the Germans complete superiority in fast, heavy ships. He must preserve the
King George V
at any cost. The future demanded it.

Reluctantly and no doubt with heavy heart he radioed the Admiralty in London and Vice-Admiral Somerville on the
Renown
. He told them that unless the
Bismarck
was slowed up considerably by midnight the
King George V
would then break off the chase and return to home base to refuel. The
Rodney
would continue the pursuit until daylight.

As Sir John Tovey took his dinner in his cabin on the
King George V
with darkness beginning to fall that evening of May 26, he could not hide his gloom. He had been after the elusive
Bismarck
for four days and nights. He had chased her for
more than 2,000 miles through the stormy Atlantic. He had lost the Fleet’s most powerful ship and seen one of its two newest battleships crippled and forced to return for repairs. He had come so near to his prey and then lost her. And because of a schoolboy’s mistake in arithmetic, after radio-direction bearings had relocated her, he had sailed off in the wrong direction and fallen behind in the chase. Now, when he was only a hundred miles from the enemy, he must abandon the pursuit because of a shortage of oil. He must admit failure and defeat.

Nor could Sir John prevent his discouragement from spreading to the crew of his flagship. It was a dark, bitter hour for all of them. They could not know that out of the gathering night and the storm, fortune at that very moment was beginning—at last—to smile on them.