The Rainbow. A World War One on Canada's West Coast Timeline

Just as important as possible mis-identification: Would people receiving the reports realize that they might be wrong?
 
Not if it was another German ship doing the transmissions under her instructions...

Which seems disturbingly likely.

Nürnberg was last definitely sighted southbound in Fitz Hugh Sound. Rainbow passed through northbound, and did not see her.So Nürnberg either laid up in a side channel while Rainbow passed, or ducked out through Hakai Passage to Queen Charlotte Sound. From there, she could have steamed north to Dixon Entrance, as apparently reported by Demodocus; or turned south to the passage east of Vancouver Island, which is full of juicy targets. (Or run directly south from a side channel lay-up.)

I note that the last posting from the German PoV was this...

Aug 18, 1330 hours. SMS Princess Charlotte, Ocean Falls...

Nürnberg led the way back down Cousins Inlet at 18 knots....

Posted 22 December, 18 posts and almost two months back. I suspect our author is up to something sneaky.

The most valuable targets for Nürnberg are to the south. Faking a sighting in the north to divert Rainbow could be a very effective ruse de guerre. Von Schönberg hasn't hesitated to fly a false flag.

Also, if Nürnberg goes north, the submarines at Vancouver will have nothing to do. (Maybe if one of the captured raiders goes in.)
 
The most valuable targets for Nürnberg are to the south. Faking a sighting in the north to divert Rainbow could be a very effective ruse de guerre. Von Schönberg hasn't hesitated to fly a false flag.
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A regular massacre
Aug 19, 1830 hours. SS Otter, Ocean Falls.

Brown thought a smoke cloud would obscure the approach to the ruins of Ocean Falls. But the destruction had happened more than 24 hours before. The Otter rounded a bend in Cousin’s Inlet in clear air, and all of a sudden, there was the town. Or half of the town. To the left, was a brand new company townsite of white frame houses and administrative buildings. The barrel roofed General Store greeted them with Ocean Falls painted high on its clapboard sides.

On the right side sticking out of the bay was a geometric pattern of wooden pilings, truncated and blackened on top. Close to shore, some rusted tangled pieces of metal remained above the surface. A torrent of water gushed forth from a burst metal pipeline that ended jaggedly at the shoreline. The air did smell slightly of smoke, but of old wet smoke. Brown was reminded of, as a child, playing in a neighborhood house that burned and sat abandoned for years. This underlying odor was mixed with the smell of creosote, and burned fish. An unnatural number of gulls flocked in the bay. They bobbed on the water, and whirled overhead, and walked on the log booms and shore, pecking at the ground. Crows and eagles and ravens were also foraging all around the shoreline. A cacophony of bird arguments coursed through the air as the different species shouldered in on each other.

A splayed pair of masts jutted from the bay, at the boundary between the pilings and the open water. Several fishboats and tugboats were anchored off the town site. The Otter was the first ship of any size on the scene. Some of the log booms had broken apart and loose logs floated about the inlet. Lacking a suitable wharf, the Otter dropped anchor. The captain immediately sent ashore a boat with a doctor and several nurses and orderlies brought from the Bella Bella hospital. Brown went ashore with this crew.

The civilian population mobbed the boat at wharfside, falling over each other to shout their stories and demand information. “What is being done?” “How could this be allowed to happen?” “What is happening now?”

A man in a grey suit raised one arm above his head as he pushed his way to the front of the crowd towards Brown. A single Provincial Policeman accompanied him, then helped to clear a path shoreward through the crowd for the doctor and his medical party.

“Richard McNulty, manager,” the man introduced himself to Brown.

“Tell me what happened here,” said Brown. “We are trying to construct a picture of what the Germans are up to. Perhaps if we learn their habits we can predict their next move.”

McNulty led Brown to a quieter location, overlooking the bay. The Otter had begun to load its boats with supplies for the General Store. “The liner,” began McNulty “the Princess Charlotte, steamed into the bay around quarter after one in the afternoon, and tied up to the deep water wharf.” He gestured at the pilings, empty space, and protruding masts of the wreck. “The ship was flying the Red Ensign, but we had already heard the warning from Swanson Bay on the wireless, so we were not fooled. I went down to the ship and told them so.”

“You talked to the German crew?” said Brown, incredulous.

“Yes, a very young captain, I recall his name was Von Spee.”

Brown scribbled furiously in his notebook. “Young. Von Spee,” he repeated.

“He told us to evacuate the mills. He said they were going to destroy the war industries, but that Swanson Bay had been an accident and he wished not to cause any civilian casualties.”

“The German Captain said that?” asked Brown.

“Yes, and they didn’t. We did have some minor injuries, none from direct German action, and there we no deaths.”

“How did this unfold? Brown asked, “what did they do?” He was not getting the answers he had imagined.

“We evacuated the mills as they asked,” said McNulty. “In fact the men had already started evacuating spontaneously. Everyone knew the story of Swanson Bay, and there was something of a panic. The Germans rigged the mills and the freighter for demolition, and then blew everything up. They were very efficient. What was left caught on fire, and the fires were not fought. We were left with what you see. The Germans were only here for no more than half an hour. Probably less. The longest half hour of my life.”

“And the Princess Charlotte was the only German raider?” asked Brown.

“A cruiser came and sat in the harbour covering the town with its guns, once the young Von Spee announced his intentions,” said McNulty. “I must say it looked very intimidating.”

“Describe the cruiser,” asked Brown excitedly.

“Three funnels with a wider space between the second and third, two masts with searchlights on platforms. I counted what looked like five guns on the broadside. I could not see a name on her, she was too far away.

“Very useful description,” said Brown still scribbling in his notebook. “The cruiser sounds very much like the Nürnberg. And it couldn’t really be any other. Ahh… go back. You said the German, Von Spee, said that Swanson Bay had been an accident. What did he mean?”

“He said they had been fired upon, and that one of his men had been killed.”

“Fired upon?” Brown stopped writing and looked up. “By who?”

“I understood him to mean the civilian population of Swanson Bay. That was all he said. Oh, you may be interested in talking to the crew of the Kintuck. The freighter sitting on the bottom of the bay. They were marched off their ship by the German landing party. They are billeted here for now at the Empire Hotel. This way.”

McNulty led Brown from the waterfront along a plank road through the small tidy houses of the town. Much construction was in evidence, with basement excavations and half-framed structures interspersed with the lived-in houses. Brown noticed that many of the windows facing the harbour were broken. “I thought you said the town was not bombarded?”

“The freighter exploded before it sank. Something in the cargo. The town was bombarded, but with flying cans of fish. It caused some injuries, but nothing serious. All in all we were very fortunate.” Seagulls sat on the roofs of some of the houses, pecking at the gutters.

Brown met with the crew of the SS Kintuck. They were resentful that their ship had been sunk by the Hun, and that they were stranded in the Canadian wilderness, but they had no complaints about their captors. All agreed that the German landing party had treated them respectfully, as fellow sailors. The ship’s quartermaster had noticed that the boarding party carried a wooden Dynamite crate labeled in English, and that there was a bill of lading stapled to the crate that listed Anyox, B.C. as the destination. Brown took copious notes.

Afterwards, McNulty took Brown to the infirmary, attached to the town doctor’s house. “The hospital is scheduled to be built next year,” said McNulty. “We are lucky we did not suffer more casualties.”

Two men lay in beds in the infirmary. A nurse was giving them oxygen from a tank, from time to time. McNulty introduced Brown. “These men inhaled some of the chemical fumes from the mill fire,” the nurse said, with a Scandinavian accent. “They will be fine, but they have to rest for now.” Two other beds sat vacant.

The doctor entered the room. He wore small spectacles and a stethoscope around his neck. “Ah, the navy arrives, just in the nick of time,” he laughed. “I’m sorry, I sent your medical party away. I accepted their supplies, but there is no help we need really. We were quite busy here, for a while, but that is all taken care of now.”

“Please tell,” said Brown, taking out his notebook.

“We have these men here,” the doctor said, gesturing at the two men in the beds. The men smiled back, weakly. “They got too close to the cloud of sulphur trioxide, and singed their lungs a bit. I am keeping them here under observation. The rest I sent home. Not enough room here. There was a mill worker who tripped running across the bridge, and broke his wrist. Another woman broke her arm falling down a flight of stairs. Half a dozen people were hit by flying cans of salmon. It sounds funny, but those one pound cans are… one pound, falling from the sky. Those caused contusions mostly. A twelve year old boy got a nasty goose egg, knocked him unconscious. His mother was distraught. A couple of people were cut when their windows were smashed by flying tins. And a tugboat operator got a burst eardrum from being too close to the explosion. So a regular massacre it was, although not worse than a typical Saturday night in Prince Rupert.”

The Otter sounded its horn. Brown made his way back to the waterfront. The ship had finished unloading provisions for Ocean Falls, and was preparing to leave. The crew of the Kintuck was offered passage to Prince Rupert, and from there, rail passage to the rest of Canada. They had declined, preferring for the time being to stay off of waters where marauding Germans may still be lurking.

The Otter raised anchor, and Brown watched Ocean Falls shrink to stern.


 
A note about the photo galleries above from the Ocean Falls Museum: The timeframe of the photos includes the state of the town in August 1914, but as with many frontier resource towns, construction happened rapidly and constantly. The largest iteration of the pulp mill and the big square hotel downtown that appear in some photos had not happened yet a tthe time of the story.
 
News of the war
Aug 19, 1930 hours, Langara Point Lighthouse, Queen Charlotte Islands.

Fisheries Officer Edwin Blake, commander of CGS Falcon, stood on the observation platform that ringed the top of the concrete lighthouse tower. Above him was the glass and red metal structure of the lantern. In front of him, brightly lit by the evening sun, was as panoramic a view of Dixon Entrance as could be imagined. Looking west, his vision was dazzled by the low sun reflecting off the open Pacific. To the north, a mass of clouds hinted at the rocks of Cape Muzon, and the mountains of Dall Island, the most southern point of Alaska. Beside him stood the lighthouse keeper, and his daughter, who was hopping with excitement to see new people.

The Falcon sat offshore, anchored and rolling on the swells. Falcon’s designation was Fisheries Patrol Vessel, but her lines clearly said she was a steam tug. The ship’s jolly boat was moored at the lighthouse wharf, at the bottom of the 2200 foot long tramway ramp used to haul supplies up to the lighthouse station. Blake had already been at sea, patrolling off Masset, when he picked up the distress calls from the Demodocus. He had set course to investigate and perhaps affect a rescue, when he received orders from Naval Headquarters to pursue the course of action he had already decided on.

He noticed to the east, that the Fisheries launch Josephine was holding off just at the edge of visual range. They have been ordered to watch and see if we get sunk, the bastards, thought Blake to himself. McCallum would love to be promoted to head of Masset station. So sorry to disappoint. Blake was resentful, but forced to admit that this move was prudent, from a military perspective.

“Do you have any news of the war?” asked the girl. “We read all the newspapers, but we only get them every six months.” Her voice trailed off sadly at the last part of the sentence.

“That is just what I was asking your father,” said Blake.

“The weather has been like this all day,” said the lighthouse keeper, his eyes gazing into the deep distance. “The best visibility we get here.” The breeze blew his hair about on this forehead. “I have seen no cruisers, and no boarding action. Nothing like you describe. Fish boats over on the American side. Steamers of the Alaska and Pacific Lines, in American waters. Almost nothing moves on this side of the line any more. I could shut the light off, and it wouldn’t make a difference.”

“We have a very detailed report of one side of a chase and boarding action,” insisted Blake. “They gave their position as right here.”

“Well whatever happened, it wasn’t here,” said the lighthouse keeper with finality. “How could I not see?” He gestured out at the open water.

“An adventure. And we missed it,” said his daughter, bitterly disappointed.
 
Very Faint
Aug 19, 2000 hours HMCS Rainbow, off Aristazbal Island, Hecate Strait

RRR SS YARROW BEING ORDERED TO STOP BY HOSTILE CRUISER OFF FORESTER ISLAND DIXON ENTRANCE ATTEMPTING TO RUN TO AMERICAN WATERS RRR

Commander Hose read the wireless message. “This was very faint sir, almost at the limit of our ability to receive,” said the wireless rating.

The Rainbow was steaming at fifteen knots northwest through Hecate Strait, keeping far offshore from the treacherous archipelagoes of islets and rocks to the west of Aristazbal Island. The last glow of sunset was fading to the west, and Hose wanted to stay well clear of any grounding hazard as darkness set in.

Soon the wireless rating reappeared. The distress message had been repeated by several Dominion Wireless stations, and by Naval Headquarters in Esquimalt, and by CGS Falcon. Falcon added:

GGS FALCON RESPONDING TO SOS FROM SS YARROW REPORTEDLY OFF FORESTER ISLAND DIXON ENTRANCE STOP INVESTIGATED DISTRESS CALL FROM SS DEMODOCUS STOP FOUND NO TRACE OF RAIDER OR QUARRY LANGARA POINT LIGHT REPORTED NO SIGHTING OF THE ACTION STOP

“That captain has brass balls!” Hose said to the First Lieutenant. “He is chasing after Nürnberg with an unarmed tug. These are the men we have here! If only we had the equipment,” he lamented. The Rainbow steamed on into the night. A series of increasingly frantic wireless distress calls from the SS Yarrow were received and repeated, ending with:

RRR SS YARROW BEING BOARDED

No further messages came from the SS Yarrow. The night was dark, with the moon just the tiniest sliver. The northern lights came out around midnight, painting the sky with ghostly green sheets, swaying from side to side like underwater plants. The guns crews, manning their stations on stand-by, temporarily forgot their perilous situation, and were absorbed by the pure beauty of the moment.

At 0200 next morning the Rainbow was still steaming north west, half way up the length of Banks Island, at about the latitude of Sandspit, when the Officer of the Watch was brought a wireless message.

CGS FALCON APPROACHING LAST REPORTED POSITION OF SS YARROW SO FAR NO SIGN OF SHIP OR WRECKAGE

At 0230 the Falcon updated her situation.

CGS FALCON SEARCHED AREA OF SS YARROW LAST REPORTED POSITION NO SHIP OR WRECKAGE FOUND IN THE DARK CONTINUING SEARCH

At 0330 Rainbow had passed Bonilla Island, off the north end on Banks Island. A wireless message was brought to the bridge.

RRR SS CRAIGARD BEING CHALLENGED BY UNKNOWN VESSEL SUSPECT GERMAN CRUISER DIXON ENTRANCE RRR

The Officer of the Watch noted that SS Craigard’s reported position was about 25 nautical miles south of CGS Falcon’s current position.


 

Driftless

Donor
By the way.... Bravo to the crew of the CGS Falcon! They know they are likely sacrificial lambs, but they are filling a very important role.
 

Driftless

Donor
Its sort of like an inverse of the old Minesweeper computer game.... The Canadians (with few other options) need to plunk their way through what conflicting information they have. At least now, there are more reliable eyes (CGS Falcon for one) looking in more places. This is still only a few days(4?) after the first attack in Anyox
 
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@YYJ, I have to tell you that I'm really engrossed in your timeline and all the drama and wittiness of the situations proposed. I rarely have something to say (I know nothing about Canada in the WWI), but I will tell you this: I have proposed your timeline for 2020 Turtledove - Best Early 20th Century Timeline. Hoping for your approval, I ask for everyone who found this work enjoyable to give your support on the linked thread.

Thank you and keep up with the good work.
 
I'm sure some of them either have already or are rapidly coming to that conclusion. The problem is going to be convincing the people in charge.....
Thing is, not being able to trust radio transmissions is going neuter the defense here anyways. I mean, if they stop trusting ship transmissions then it's still a win for the Germans.

Frankly, the Canadians needs to defend point targets and limit shipping, not chase something that'll probably kill them quickly. If the Germans force a fight at a harbor, take it and recognize that ammunition expenditure and moderate damage will cripple the Germans capacity in the region. If they don't force a fight, then they run out of coal or get killed by an IJN that's love to flex its muscles. Possibly both.
 
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@YYJ, I have to tell you that I'm really engrossed in your timeline and all the drama and wittiness of the situations proposed. I rarely have something to say (I know nothing about Canada in the WWI), but I will tell you this: I have proposed your timeline for 2020 Turtledove - Best Early 20th Century Timeline. Hoping for your approval, I ask for everyone who found this work enjoyable to give your support on the linked thread.

Thank you and keep up with the good work.
Cool! Thanks!
 
The tiniest sliver of moon
Aug 20, 0230 hours. SS Otter, Swanson Bay.

Brown marvelled at the stars in the dark sky. Around midnight, they had been treated to the northern lights. Now, with Otter maintaining blackout, and just the tiniest sliver of moon, the stars were out in their full countless splendor. A steward had awoken Brown, as requested, so he was standing on the Otter’s deck when the steamer rounded the point and entered Swanson Bay. The HMCHS Prince George sat at anchor in the middle of the harbour. Prince George was brightly lit, so as to show off her status as a hospital ship. Brown had to squint until his eyes adjusted.

The light from the ship lit some of the shore, and Brown could see the ruins of a mill and wharf structure. Much was burned, and rows of blackened pilings lined a part of the bay, just like at Ocean Falls. But here the pulp mill had been built on land, so a concrete shell and several large crumpled metal vessels remained. One smokestack still stood, another was broken off where the upper part had fallen. The empty windows in the concrete mill building stared like the eyes of a skull. On the north end of the bay, a row of small wood houses sat behind a wooden sea wall, untouched by the devastation so close at hand.

Otter nestled close to the Prince George, and dropped her anchor. Moored close by was a 50 foot wooden launch, with Fisheries Protection livery and the name Hawk painted on her bow. Brown climbed down into the Otter’s boat and was rowed across the narrow space to the Prince George. Other boats were lowered, and Otter began loading her boats with supplies for the stricken town through her side cargo doors.

Brown was welcomed at the Prince George’s side cargo door by the Second Officer. The dining room, the largest single space on the ship, had been converted into an operating theatre and intensive care ward. The Second Officer escorted Brown on his tour, quietly briefing him of details. Nurses in masks and white uniforms attended to the patients.

“There are 5 men here, where the medical staff can keep them under constant supervision,” said the Second Officer.

The Head Nurse came to address Brown. “Please keep well back from the patients, and don’t disturb them, they need their rest,” she ordered the men.

“Yes, of course,” said Brown, in a hushed tone. “I need not speak to the men directly, I am merely seeking their condition, so I can report to the authorities. Please describe these men’s injuries.”

The Head Nurse led them to the edge of the room so as to be out of earshot of the patients. “Three of them were either shot or hit by shell splinters. They all have critical internal injuries. These ones should pull through, if all goes well. Two others, the ones wrapped in bandages, have serious burns. Their prognosis is not as good. They were pulled from a burning building by their comrades.”

She gestured to another nurse, to let her know she was leaving the room, “If you come this way, gentlemen…” she led them up a very ornate set of stairs to the deck above. “We have some staterooms set up as recovery rooms. It would be better if they were on the same deck as the operating room, but well, this is a ship. We have to make do.”

The doors of the rooms opening off the central passageway were propped open, so the nurses on duty could check on the patients. “There are four men here with less serious gunshot or shell splinter wounds,” said the Head Nurse, “and three with moderate burns. We discharged another half dozen who just needed first aid. The doctors are sleeping now, but they start their clinical rounds at 0600. I expect you could schedule a meeting after then if you want more detail.”

“Thank you,” said Brown. “I shan’t keep you further.” The Head Nurse descended the stairs back to her station. When she had gone, Brown asked the Second Officer, “And what of the dead? The wireless message mentioned heavy casualties.”

“Four men are lying in the refrigerated storage in the ship‘s pantry,” he said. “We have commandeered it as a morgue. Those men were either killed on the hillside behind the mill, or succumbed to their wounds. There are another seven men missing. Likely they died on the wharf or their bodies are buried inside the collapsed pulp mill structure. There was a sawmill on the wharf that was a scene of fighting. It has completely burned away and fallen into the water.”

“Am I able to talk to any of the wounded, or the men who took part in the… battle?” asked Brown.

“The Head Nurse will be very irate if she finds out, so we will have to do it on the sly.” The Second Officer seemed genuinely afraid of the imposing nurse. “I have someone in mind who I expect will be eager to tell his story. He’s been telling it to everyone else.” The Second Officer led Brown down the hall, and craned his neck peeking in a cabin doorway.

“C’mon,” said a voice. “ I’m not sleeping anyway.” The Second Officer and Brown filed into the room. A man with an impressive grey beard lay on the bed, his leg elevated. “I got a compound fracture of my right shin. I’m just waiting for the nurse to come around with more morphine. That don’t happen until after 6AM.” Brown introduced himself.

“Elliot Knox,” said the man. “Navy, huh? Well that’s good. Those Huns need some sinkin’.”

“So tell me what happened here,” said Brown.

“Those Huns came into the bay,” said Knox, “with their pirated ship, and we fought them. That’s what you do, right? We had just started the morning shift. That CPR Princess tied up at the dock and a bunch of Huns with guns started pushing everyone around. So all the guys who had rifles went and fetched them, and we started to repel the invasion.”

“Whose idea was it to resist?” asked Brown.

“I don’t rightly recall,” said Knox. “ We just knew it was the thing to do.”

“Did the mill manager order you, or encourage you to resist?” asked Brown.

“I’m not much for being told what to do, or what not to do,” answered Knox. “He’s dead by the way, or what they call missin’. The mill manager, that is. They had our number, I’ll concede that, with their cannons, but we got our licks in.”

“You may have fired the first Canadian shots of the war,” said Brown.

“Hmmm…” Knox reflected on this thought. It seemed to satisfy him.

“Can you recall how the Princess Charlotte was armed?” asked Brown.

“I do,” said Knox. “I was watching her over my sights for a few minutes before the shooting started. A cannon at the bow, and two right at the stern, side by each. Sort of medium size guns, I guess. I don’t really know cannons. Those shot explosive shells. Some machine cannon a deck above, again one at the bow, one at the stern. Those guns were murder. Then some regular machine guns on the top deck.”

“And you inflicted some casualties on the Germans,” asked Brown.

“We did, at that. Two of them we got on the dock. They carried those ones back. Don’t know if they were alive or dead. And I saw at least two get hit on the ship. We were aiming for the gun crews. Having some success too, but the real cruiser was too much for us. Blew the mills to kingdom come, and everyone in ‘em.

“I…” Knox looked past Brown’s shoulder.

“Gentlemen,” said a woman’s deep voice from behind them.

The Head Nurse was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. “My patient needs rest.”

“Of course,” said Brown. “Well, I think we are finished here.”

“Yes,” said the nurse. “You are.”


 
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