Aug 22, 1100 hours.
SMS Leipzig off Barclay Sound.
Friggattenkapitan Haun watched the barrier islands of Barclay Sound draw astern with some relief. His ship had been in Canadian waters for far too long, in his estimation, and nothing was to be gained by lingering. The late morning sun was warm on the shoulders of his tunic, as he looked out to sea. The sky overhead was clear, but to the west a band of cloud sat on the horizon, hinting at weather to come. The collier
Bengrove was a nautical mile to Leipzig’s port side, on the southern leg of her watch picket route. The big freighter slowly turned back north.
“I wish Von Schönberg would get on with it,” said Haun to the gunnery officer beside him.
Haun saw a flash of movement in the water and lowered his binoculars to look. A school of porpoises was riding
Leipzig’s bow wave.
“Dall’s porpoises,” said Heinrich Mueller. “It is so charming when they do that.” He was about to be relieved of his role as pilot, and he and his son would soon become civilian passengers, but they still took the privilege of sight-seeing from
Leipzig’s open bridge atop the wheelhouse. The marine mammals wove back and forth across the cruiser’s prow. “A fitting send-off I think.” The Muellers were as eager as Haun to leave British Columbia far behind.
The coast shrank in their wake as Leipzig moved offshore. Haun was relieved to feel the ocean swells under his feet. Looking back he saw taller, bare crags poking their heads above the tree covered ranges surrounding Barclay Sound. The tallest of these peaks were rimmed with cloud. He swept his binoculars to the north, and noticed a long white sandy beach, then another, like those he remembered from Mexico, nestled between black jagged headlands. He intended to take a position about 10 nautical miles off shore, where he could still communicate by Morse light or flag with Von Schönberg on
Niagara, but would extend his visual reach further towards the horizon.
At 1145 a lookout called “Smoke! Due South!”
“Bother,” said Haun to the gunnery officer. “I do not want to trifle with taking prizes just now.” He focussed his binoculars to the south. The smoke was indeed from a ship, still out of sight over the horizon “Japan is going to be jumping into this war, by 1900 hours local time if they declare as soon as their ultimatum for Germany to surrender Tsingtao runs out. The opportunists. I can not afford to to have a boarding party on the decks of some British gin palace when our old friend Captain Moriyama arrives in Izumo.”
“I suppose that ship could be a neutral,” said the gunnery officer.
“I don’t even want anyone on a wireless reporting my position,” said Haun. “Send a message alerting Captain Von Schönberg.”
SMOKE FROM SHIP DUE SOUTH OVER THE HORIZON, flashed Leipzig’s Morse light.
“Keep a close eye on that smoke,” Haun ordered the lookouts. He could not long ignore the smoke himself, but the lookouts up in the top crow’s nests would have a better angle of view, with 25 meters more altitude. Leipzig was converging with the unknown ship at her own speed of 15 knots, but the bearing and speed of the other ship was unknown.
“Two Masts visible,” announced the lookout, ten minutes later.
“Does the mast have a spotting top?” called up Haun.
“Not enough visible yet sir,” answered the lookout. Haun racked his brain for
Izumo’s profile. He had last seen the Japanese cruiser on August 5, the day war was declared with Britain, 17 days ago. He could not remember if Izumo had a proper spotting top like the British and American large cruisers.
“The masts are obscured by smoke, sir,” the lookout reported. A few moments passed. The new ships slowly rose up the curvature of the earth.
Haun had his binoculars trained on the new arrival. A swirling column of smoke, and two thin upper masts. The line of the sea was dark blue-grey, the sky behind almost white. Heat lines caused the image to dance and shimmer.
“Ship has a naval spotting top,” called the lookout.
“American navy sir?” prompted the gunnery officer.
“Perhaps,” replied Haun, focussed on the horizon. “I would not expect the Royal Navy to have a ship here, just yet. The Royal Navy will be too busy chasing our Admiral Von Spee all around the wide Pacific. Bremerton Naval Yard is nearby, so this could be an American. The Yanks like those strange lattice masts, but they also like military masts with those old washtub fighting tops. That cruiser
South Dakota we saw yesterday had one of each. This ship does not have lattice masts.”
“I am seeing funnels!” called the lookout. “One. Two. Three. Three Funnels.”
“Send a message to Niagara,” ordered Haun.
SHIP SIGHTED WARSHIP MASTS AND THREE FUNNELS, flashed the Morse light.
“Niagara acknowledges sir,” reported the signal officer. “The Morse light is very marginal in these conditions,”
“I can see an ensign, Sir,” announced the lookout, “but it is obscured by smoke.”
A few more moments passed. Haun saw the tips of the funnels clear the horizon through his own binoculars. There were indeed three.
“Rising sun!” called the lookout finally, “Japanese!”
“Damn,” said Haun. “That is
Izumo.” He looked at the chronometer. It read 1200 hours. The Japanese cruiser was just cresting the horizon, 20 nautical miles away from
Leipzig, and a further 10 miles to the shore of Vancouver Island, where the rest of the German flotilla was penned up against the coast or inside the Sound.
If the two cruisers converged at their full speeds, they would collide in half an hour.
“
Izumo will certainly have seen who we are by now. But they will not be able to see
Bengrove or
Niagara yet. If they do, that will put a sudden end to Von Schönberg’s sortie. Signal
Niagara.” The Morse light flashing on Leipzig’s shoreward side was invisible to the Japanese.
NEW SHIP IS IZUMO WILL DRAW OFF TO THE WEST IF WE ARE ABLE GOD SAVE THE KAISER
“Commence jamming
Izumo’s wireless,” ordered Haun. “Set course west at 19 knots. Let us see how her hull condition and boilers are doing, after all that time off Mexico. I seem to recall Captain Moriyama being coy while we bragged about each other’s vessels. Over the excellent local Mezcal.” The gunnery officer nodded in acknowledgement, of the remembered exchange, and of the liquour. “Naval Intelligence says Izumo could do 20 and a half knots, but that was in 1899.
Leipzig is not brand new either, but she is 6 years younger, and we should be a full 2 knots faster.” He pulled down the brim of his hat, against the wind.
“Ship is changing heading to follow,” reported the lookout.
“Good,” said Haun. “Range?”
The gunnery officer gave orders, and crewmen took a sighting with the rangefinder behind them on the signal deck. “37,000 meters,” he reported.
“Very good,” said Haun. “Maintain 19 knots, and let’s see if
Izumo gains. I see she is making more smoke now. I want to let her close, so she does not give up the chase, but let her stokers work for it. We have plenty of coal. I don’t see why
Izumo should not herself. She is still a neutral, so she can coal where she pleases.”
Leipzig had worked up to 19 knots, and was sporting a tall bow wave. The porpoises had departed long ago. The mountains of Vancouver Island were now a greenish band on their starboard quarter. 15 minutes passed.
“Range?” asked Haun.
“No difference,” answered the gunnery officer.
Haun looked about. The Muellers, father and son, were still standing on the open bridge, huddled back against the base of the foremast. Despite the sun and wind, the men looked pale.
“Well gentleman,” said Haun jauntily, “Are you still pleased you chose to come with us? Such adventure, right out of the gate.” Haun rubbed his hands together. “Ah, the thrill of the chase.”
Fifteen more minutes passed. Leipzig had travelled 10 nautical miles westward out into the Pacific since turning away from
Izumo.
“Range?” Haun asked again.
“36,000 meters.”
“Just as the script calls for,” said Haun. “If
Izumo is gaining at 1000 meters in a half hour, she has one knot on us at our current speeds. We have her on the hook.” He paused. “What would you figure for the range of Izumo’s 20 cm guns?” he asked the gunnery officer.
“I recall Captain Moriyama was tight lipped about that number as well,” said the gunner officer. “Their guns are in 15 degree mountings. They might get a 20 cm shell out to 12,000 meters. Same as us. Are you thinking of fighting? Sir?”
“Not if I can help it,” Haun answered. “And we control this engagement, by virtue of our speed. I simply want to know what margin I can let
Izumo close to. To keep her on the line. If Moriyama gives up on us, and turns back, he could bag
Niagara and her prizes.”
The ships continued racing west. The sun reached, then passed its zenith, and the cruisers now followed its progress across the sky. At 1300 hours, the range had fallen to 33,000 meters. “I see Izumo found that extra half of a knot,” said Haun. From time to time, Izumo flashed Morse light messages inviting Leipzig to stop, or to parley. Haun ignored the messages. At 1400 hours, the gunnery officer reported the range to be 30,000 meters. Canada was now simply a dark patch to the northeast. To the west, white cauliflower shaped clouds rose on the horizon, above a dark grey stripe at sea level.
“I am familiar with the inexorable maths of a sea chase,” said Haun, “but this is becoming excessively dull. Can we communicate with
Izumo by Morse light in these lighting conditions?”
“With difficulty,” answered the signal officer.
“Go to my cabin astern and fetch my chess set,” he ordered a sailor. When the sailor returned, Haun set up the board on top of the signal flag locker. “Send a message to Izumo.”
KINGS PAWN TO KING 4 E 4 Flashed Leipzig’s Morse light.
“Let’s see what Moriyama does with that!” Haun chuckled.
After 10 minutes with no response, Haun ordered the signal officer to repeat the message. Another 10 minutes passed, then Izumo signalled.
C5 flashed the light on the Japanese cruiser’s bridge wing.
“Bishop’s pawn to bishop’s 4,” said Haun, moving the black piece. “The Sicilian Defence?”
“How about King’s knight to king’s bishop 3,” said Haun, chewing on his top lip. NF3
The exchange continued across the rolling ocean swells. Captain Moriayama played an aggressive game, and put Haun in his heels several times, but he lost his queen early, and was checkmated on turn 26.
“Range 27,000 meters,” announced the gunnery officer. The chronometer read 1500 hours.
REMATCH flashed
Leipzig.
Izumo responded with a series of requests for Leipzig to stop, which Haun ignored.
Finally,
Izumo flashed E4
D4 responded
Leipzig.
This game took longer. Both sided played offensively, and kept the pressure on. The game concluded with a draw.
“Range 23,000 meters,” said the gunnery officer.
“Time is 1600 hours, Sir,” said the navigator. “Sunset is at 2014 hours. Full darkness around 2200 hours. It looks like we will be under cloud by then, although there will only be a sliver of a moon in any case.”
Haun did some quick calculations in his head. He invited the assembled officers down to the more spacious wheelhouse, and summoned the head officers of Leipzig’s departments.
“The Japanese ultimatum expires at 1900 hours. Captain Moriyama should expect to receive orders to commence hostile action, if Japan actually declares the moment the ultimatum expires. Which they will. Everyone understands the ultimatum to be a diplomatic ploy. It was never meant to be accepted. Moriyama will not receive those orders, on account of our wireless jamming the airwaves. Will our Captain Moriyama take unilateral action on his initiative? There is no doubt that he will. That man is destined for Admiral. At 1900 hours,
Izumo will have closed to 14,000 meters at this rate. Moriyama will have an hour of daylight, and two of twilight once a state of war commences. I am counting on our engineers to be able to give us another two knots right around then, otherwise we will be
ein Happen for the Japanese. And when the state of war commences, we will have put 140 nautical miles between
Izumo and Captain Von Schönberg’s flotilla.”
The sun went behind the clouds at 1730 hours. At 1830 hours it began to lightly rain. Visibility dropped to 15,000 meters.
Izumo was barely visible through the mist, doggedly pursuing. At 1902 hours. Izumo flashed a Morse light message.
A STATE OF WAR EXISTS BETWEEN THE EMPIRE OF JAPAN AND THE GERMAN EMPIRE
Izumo’s forward turret trained on Leipzig, barrels at maximum elevation. The guns flashed. A pair of waterspouts rose in Leipzig’s wake, 2000 meters short.
“Engineering, give us full speed,” ordered Haun. Leipzig’s engine telegraph rang. “Signals, send a message to Izumo.”
SINCEREST REGARDS TO THE EMPEROR.
Izumo fired again, ranging shots. The shells again fell short. Leipzig’s engine revolutions rose. The Japanese cruiser continued to fire ranging shots sparingly, testing to see if the range had closed. Instead, Leipzig began to pull away, opening the space by 1000 meters in the first 15 minutes.
“That would be marvelous luck to lose Izumo in the mist,” said Haun, hopefully, but the rain stopped, the mist lifted, and Izumo remained in Leipzig’s wake. They missed the sunset, under the clouds. At 2100 hours Izumo became lost in the murk 11 nautical miles astern of Leipzig. By 2200 hours it was pitch black.
“Wireless, cease jamming,” ordered Haun. “Helm take us south.” Leipzig heeled over as she made a wide turn.” The wireless runner soon reported transmissions nearby, but was unable to decode them. After two hours of steaming, Haun brought the ship down to 18 knots, to give the engines and stokers a break, and retired for some rest himself.
Pre-dawn twilight came at 0430 hours, still under high cloud. At 0515 hours Haun was back on the bridge, just as a lookout reported “Ship!”
“Incredible!” Haun exclaimed, looking through his binoculars. “Moriyama is still there!”
Izumo sat just on the horizon. The Japanese captain had guessed Haun’s intention, but not his exact bearing, and Izumo was well to the east of Leipzig. “Full speed!” Haun ordered. By the time the sun came up, peeking under the lid of clouds as it rose from the sea,
Izumo was just a pair of masts and a smoke trail on the horizon, and an hour later not even that.
The Muellers came up on deck at 0630, and looked around at the horizon apprehensively, until they were satisfied it was empty.
“Well gentlemen,” Haun laughed, looking down on them from the bridge wing, “onward to Mexico."
en.wikipedia.org
These article by Peter Brook is from Warship International, 1972, #3.
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