I did not attend his funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it.
(Mark Twain)
Of course, no Timmy – but several bullet holes in the superstructure. Thank goodness, no one on board had been hurt. But the venture was a failure. Sir Hamilton William Kerr had known it wasn’t going to work. Albeit, it had to be tried, just to affirm he was doing everything to save Timmy. His wife wouldn’t accept anything else. – He had chartered a sturdy ocean-going tug complete with crew. The captain was a German, Paul Klinnemeyer. The crew was a ghastly assortment of Germans, Poles, Danes and Latvians, vicious fellows. But who else would sail to Britain these days?
Kerr had used his excellent ties to the German intelligence community to receive a security update. The whites in Portsmouth were still holding out, but they were under close siege – and their stocks were running out. The suppliers, although well paid hitherto, were refusing to touch at Portsmouth. The blacks had now moved close enough to fire at everything that moved in Portsmouth Harbour. They even had brought up some field guns, light pieces, probably anti-tank cannons. That was enough to discourage the suppliers.
One had lash-up armoured the tug and installed four machine guns – in a Danish port, far away from the attention of the German authorities – and had steamed for Portsmouth. Klinnemeyer was a reserve officer in the Kaiserliche Marine, a Kaleu with experience in handling fast patrol boats. Nevertheless, the lad had never before been under fire. The crew, however, had created the impression they were going to a donnybrook fair. They were extremely well paid – by their standards – and not expecting tedious toil, but a bonny fray.
Going in during darkness should have provided them an edge. But the blacks had large parachute flairs, and the concerto had promptly begun. After two near misses by an AT-gun, Klinnemeyer had decided to abort mission. Kerr had seen the calamity: the Portsea Island with Portsmouth and Southsea was still held by the Brits, but Gosport on the other side of the harbor entrance was in possession of the enemy. Even if you were lucky to get in, there was no telling whether you might make it out again.
The blacks were well established on Hayling Island too; hence every attempt to make contact on the Southsea beaches had been doomed as well. And the Isle of Wight was in black hands too, as one soon had found out. – A military outfit with appropriate equipment might have managed the situation, but the tug was lucky to get away unscathed. – There had been radio contact, with some Royal Navy staff on land. They had cried for help; they needed ammo, fuel and food; things which Kerr couldn’t deliver. In revenge, the navy dudes had had no clue who Timmy was and where he might be.
One was now returning to Ringkøbing in order to civilize the tug again – and have the bullet holes spackled and painted over. Then one would proceed to Hamburg. It had been a waste of time and effort – and it had almost ruined Kerr.