Tidal Effects (Gray Tide In The East Book 2) Read online

  In fact, he had never said anything remotely like it. “I merely said, Your Majesty, that they might be reluctant to use force in this situation, as President Lowden does not appear to have very strong support for his Martinique policy. If you recall, I also suggested that if the Americans held firm, we would ultimately either be forced to negotiate from an even weaker position than before, or else escalate the situation in a very dangerous manner. I must strongly advise Your Majesty against the latter course.”

  The Chancellor remained outwardly impassive under the continued glower of his sovereign, so Wilhelm turned to his Minister of War. “And are you in agreement with the Chancellor, Rupprecht? Do I have no choice but to surrender to the Americans, to humble Germany and myself before the democracy…” This last word emerged dripping with contempt and vitriol, “… without a single blow being struck in defense of my honor?”

  The Crown Prince of Bavaria smoothed his mustache thoughtfully with his thumb and forefinger before responding. “I think, Your Majesty, that the inherent risks of escalation outweigh the possible gains,” he said judiciously. “Certainly, if we are forced to come to terms with the United States, there may be unflattering articles in the press and some slight, temporary diminution of our prestige overseas for a time, but memories are short and such things will soon pass without causing any permanent injury to our international position or your reputation.”

  This was obviously not the response Wilhelm wanted. He showed his displeasure by clenching his right hand, which rested on the table, in a fist, and scowling more ferociously than ever. The Kaiser was silent for a long time, as he tried to regain control of his temper. His complexion, which had been flushed with anger, slowly returned to normal.

  “Admiral Scheer,” he said, “which of our battleships has the greatest ability to absorb battle damage? In other words, which ship, if placed in a hopeless fight, would give its crew the best chance to survive?”

  Scheer was taken aback by the question. Was the Kaiser planning to sacrifice one of his dreadnoughts? “Does Your Majesty wish me to consider the issues of firepower or speed?” he asked, to gain time to think.

  “No, they would not be relevant for my purposes. I am just interested in ability to survive punishment,” Wilhelm answered.

  “In that case,” Scheer said, “I would probably choose one of the Nassau class, Your Majesty. The principal differences between the Nassaus and our later battleships are in propulsion and armament. The Helgoland class and all subsequent types have 30.5 centimeter main batteries, or larger, and are turbine powered. Nassau and her sisters have 28 centimeter main guns, and triple-expansion engines. But the Nassaus all have extensive watertight compartmentation and double hulls precisely like the later dreadnoughts, and they are as tough to sink as any capital ships afloat.”

  “Ah, Admiral Scheer,” Prince Rupprecht said, “Unless I am mistaken, I seem to recall that Pommern was lost at the Battle of Cape Cepet. Wasn’t she a Nassau class dreadnought?” Rupprecht was recalling the 1915 sea battle off Toulon, where the French fleet had been virtually annihilated at the cost of a single German battleship.

  “You remember correctly, Your Excellency,” Scheer said. “No ship is unsinkable, if she is holed badly enough below the waterline. There are no guarantees. But, I repeat,” he continued doggedly, “I do not know of any capital ship afloat today that is more capable of surviving battle damage than the Nassau class.”

  The room fell silent again. Suddenly the Kaiser thumped his fist on the table. “I will see Americans in Hell before I bow my head to them,” he said. “Admiral Scheer, which of the Nassaus is closest to operational readiness?”

  “I cannot answer that question at this moment, Your Majesty,” Scheer said, “but I will certainly have an answer for you by…” he glanced at the elaborate gilded wall clock over the Kaiser’s chair, “1600 hours today.”

  “Whichever one it is will be ordered to proceed to Dominica at the earliest possible date, to rendezvous with our merchant ships, Orlanda and… what’s the name of the other one?” Wilhelm asked.

  “Ambria, Your Majesty,” Michaelis supplied the name.

  “Yes… with Orlanda and Ambria, and to escort them to the harbor at La Trinitie, Martinique,” the Kaiser continued. “If our ship encounters American battleships, her Captain is not to fire her guns at the Americans under any circumstances…” He paused and stared at Scheer to emphasize the importance of this point.

  “Not even in self-defense, Your Majesty?” Scheer asked, aghast at the thought.

  “Under no circumstances, Admiral, is our battleship to fire on the Americans,” the Kaiser repeated. “The Captain will be under orders to surrender the ship or abandon it, if necessary, if the damage is too serious, but he must not discharge his weapons at the Americans. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Scheer said unhappily. “But may I be permitted to ask why?”

  “Do you understand, Michaelis?” Wilhelm asked, turning to his Chancellor. He immediately answered his own question. “Of course you do. Please explain to Admiral Scheer.”

  “We are in no position to go to war, Admiral,” the Chancellor said, “but the Kaiser does not believe that the Americans will fire upon a ship of the High Seas Fleet at the risk of precipitating a war themselves. If they do, then we will concede the game in Martinique…” He turned to look at his monarch, who made a sour face but nodded his agreement. “…and accept American shellfire without returning it, so as to give no excuse for a declaration of war.”

  Scheer must have still looked puzzled. “Do you know the game of poker, Admiral?” asked Prince Rupprecht.

  “I don’t play it myself, but yes, I know the game,” Scheer answered.

  “What the Kaiser is planning is essentially a ‘bluff’ – an attempt to win the pot with a weak hand, by pretending to have a strong one,” the Minister of War explained. “If the Americans call our bluff, we shall have to throw in our hand, at the possible cost of a dreadnought battleship and its crew.”

  “I see. That is why Your Majesty wanted to know which ship could survive the greatest amount of damage,” Scheer said, understanding at last. “I must get back to my headquarters immediately. If Your Majesty will excuse me…”

  “You are excused, Admiral Scheer,” the Kaiser said.

  As Scheer’s footsteps echoed in the great hall, Wilhelm turned back to his Ministers. He looked them over. “I see that you do not approve of my stroke,” he said. “But sometimes great things can be accomplished only by taking great risks.”

  Crown Prince Rupprecht remembered his governess reading him an old fairy tale about a little girl and a fox when he was a small boy in Bavaria. Unconsciously, he murmured a line from the story under his breath. “Be bold, be bold… but not too bold.”

  “Did you say something, Rupprecht?” Wilhelm asked.

  “Oh, nothing, Your Majesty,” he answered. “Nothing of the slightest importance.”

  Broadside from a battleship c 1920

  Chapter Twelve

  London, May 19, 1923

  At the request of the Prime Minister, Sir Edward Grey stayed behind at Number 10 Downing Street after the cabinet meeting had concluded.

  “I never had the opportunity to tell you my opinion of your memorandum on the Martinique situation, Edward,” the P.M. said. “If the Americans had not stood up to the Kaiser, I would have followed your recommendations. You set out the issues with striking cogency, I think. Fortunately, it does not appear that we will be obliged to take any part in the matter. It seems to be all but settled.”

  “Then you are quite certain that the Germans have completely given up on the project, Winston?” Grey asked.

  A look of mild puzzlement crossed Churchill’s face. “Do you have any reason to suspect they have not? Some new intelligence, perhaps?” he asked.

  Grey shook his head. “Nothing specific that I can put my finger on, no. It is simply a feeling…” the Foreign Secretary trailed off. />
  “A feeling, yes?” Churchill prompted.

  “It is just not like Wilhelm to give way so easily in a crisis. Generally, that doesn’t happen until the situation is on the verge of a catastrophe,” Grey explained. He tried to make light of it. “More than likely it is nothing more than a bad piece of fish from lunch.”

  “As you know, the Grand Fleet has been on ‘maneuvers’ for the last two weeks, in the event that President Lowden was unable to resolve the crisis on his own, and the fleet was needed immediately,” the Prime Minister said. “I was considering ordering Admiral Beatty to stand down after the recent news from America, but perhaps it would be better to wait a little while longer, until we are absolutely certain that the crisis is over. What are your thoughts, Edward?”

  Grey nodded. “I agree, Winston. In the next week we will either see the Germans open negotiations for a peaceful settlement with the Americans, or…” Again, the Foreign Secretary paused, leaving the thought unfinished.

  This time the Prime Minister finished for him. “…or they won’t,” he said grimly. “We’ll keep the fleet on maneuvers for now.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Washington, D.C., May 22, 1923

  “They’re sending a battleship over here?” the President demanded in voice that combined outrage with disbelief. Before him on his desk lay a copy of the latest announcement from the office of the Chancellor in Berlin to the effect that the dreadnought Rheinland was being dispatched to the Caribbean to escort the merchant vessels Ambria and Orlanda to their destination in Martinique.

  Lowden glared at his Secretary of State accusingly. “It doesn’t look like our blockade… excuse me, our ‘interdiction’… is going to remain ‘pacific’ for much longer, does it, General?” he asked sarcastically.

  Wood’s expression did not betray any emotion, but his tone was icy. “Mister President,” he said, “if you believe I have mishandled this crisis, you only need to say so directly and my letter of resignation will be on your desk before the close of business today.”

  The President’s face clouded in anger. Before he could say anything that might create an irreparable breach with the proud Wood, his private secretary, Joseph McCormick, jumped in. He knew that Wood’s resignation at this point in the growing crisis would be a political disaster of the first magnitude. “Now, now, gentleman,” he chided, “there’s no need to say anything we’re going to regret later. I can hear the Kaiser laughing right now when he finds out that our government is tearing itself to pieces over Martinique.”

  General Wood and President Lowden had been rivals for the Republican nomination in 1920, and it was clear that the Secretary of State still thought he would have made the better President. McCormick glanced sharply from one to the other. Lowden compressed his lips, biting back whatever he was about to say. Wood’s face remained impassive, but his color, which had darkened, slowly faded.

  “The President did not mean to imply that you have done anything but an exemplary job during this crisis,” McCormick continued. “Isn’t that right, sir?” he asked, staring at Lowden.

  “Yes… yes, of course, Leonard,” Lowden told his Secretary of State. “You still have my utmost confidence. I was simply taken by surprise by this new development, especially now, when we thought that the crisis was all but over. If I said anything that implied anything less than my complete satisfaction with your performance, please accept my apology.”

  “There is no need for any apologies, Mister President,” Wood answered. “These last weeks have been a tremendous strain on all of us, particularly on you. It seems that whatever we do to relieve the situation, the tensions seem to grow rather than relax. I still believe that the Germans will not, cannot go to war with us under the current circumstances, but I will admit that my confidence in my ability to predict their behavior is less than it was. I do not believe that we should take the dispatch of the Rheinland to this hemisphere at face value. Do they truly think in Berlin that they can carve a path through the entire U.S. Navy with one old battleship? I cannot believe they are so foolish. In my opinion, this is simply another demonstration, another gesture, like the original announcement about accelerating the building schedule at the new base, and sending the two freighters. The Kaiser is raising the stakes, putting the question to us in a way that cannot be avoided.”

  “That question being: are we willing to risk a casus belli by firing on a German Imperial warship to enforce our blockade?” McCormick asked. “That is a question that only you can answer, Mr. President.”

  Lowden nodded. “True enough, Joseph. How much time do I have to think about it?”

  “The Rheinland has a cruising speed of 12 knots,” Wood said. “The Navy Department estimates that it will not arrive in the Caribbean before June 7.”

  “Two weeks,” the President mused. “Thank you, General Wood. I will obviously need to bring this development before the full cabinet tomorrow. Please prepare a briefing on the subject for that meeting. I would like you to consult with the Navy Department, and include their estimates of the capabilities of the German battleship in your memorandum.”

  “Yes, sir. I will start on that right away,” Wood said. He rose. “Good morning, Mr. President.”

  After the door closed behind the Secretary of State, Lowden swiveled his chair around to face his private secretary. “Well, Joseph, Kaiser Wilhelm is certainly not making this easy for us. What am I supposed to do now? What is the right decision?”

  “I don’t know if there is a ‘right’ decision, boss,” McCormick answered. “I think what you have is a choice between bad and worse. But, let me ask you a question: how important is being re-elected to you?”

  Lowden grimaced. “I suppose it would be easier if this was the last year of my second term, and I wasn’t planning to run again. But you must believe me, Joseph, I have thought about it and I am ready to make the decision to go to war, even if it means losing the election next year, if I am convinced that it is absolutely necessary. But I’m not convinced, damn it.”

  “I believe you, boss,” McCormick said. “If I had a crystal ball that showed the future, I could probably give you excellent advice based on what the history books twenty years from now will say about this crisis. They would know exactly what the right decision would have been. Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of hindsight. This is one of those times when I remember how glad I am that I’m not sitting in your chair and I don’t have to make these kinds of decisions. But I will tell you this: I don’t know of another man in the country that I would rather have in your place right now. Boss, whatever you decide, I know it won’t be based on consideration of what is best for your political career. I’m sure it will be what you believe is in the best interests of the United States.”

  “I appreciate your vote of confidence, Joseph,” Lowden said. “Having your support makes the burden of this office much more bearable.”

  As was his habit when facing difficult decisions, Lowden remained alone in the Oval Office for a long time after his last appointment of day had concluded. As he stared out the windows of his office, watching the cloak of night settle over the streets of Washington, he wondered what his counterparts in Berlin were doing at that moment.

  SMS Rheinland

  Chapter Fourteen

  Off Martinique, June 8, 1923

  Vice-Admiral Hugh Rodman stood with his legs braced, well apart, and his hands together behind his back, the very image of calm confidence amid the air of growing tension on the bridge of the battleship Nevada. The veteran Rodman firmly believed that confidence in any naval unit began from the top command and spread all the way down to the ordinary seaman, as did its absence. He wanted every officer and man under his command in the Caribbean Battle Force to have the utmost confidence in competence of their comrades.

  “There she is!” the young Lieutenant j.g., who was peering through field glasses at a column of smoke on the horizon, cried excitedly. He must have realized that his announcement had be
en made in a voice that was a bit too loud and high-pitched, because he quickly added in much more measured tones, “Unidentified warship sighted, Admiral, ten degrees off the starboard bow. She appears to match the configuration of a Nassau-class battleship of the Imperial German Navy, sir. Warship is accompanied by two merchant vessels.”

  Rodman approved of the way the way the young officer had regained control of his emotions, so he confined his response to a dry comment. “I think we can be reasonably confident that you have spotted S.M.S. Rheinland, Mr. Sprague. It would be most unsporting of the Germans to send any other ship, after they have gone to so much trouble to advertise the arrival of that one.” The Admiral found it unnecessary to add that the German dreadnought and the two merchant ships it was escorting had already been identified by a destroyer of DesRon Three two hours earlier.

  “Captain Luby, sound general quarters,” Rodman ordered. As the controlled chaos of clamoring bells and officers shouting orders to men rushing to their battle stations erupted around him, he continued, speaking now to one of the men assigned to run messages to the radio room. “Signal to Task Force: Battle Group…” (this was the main battle line, consisting of six American dreadnought battleships: Nevada, where Rodman was flying his flag, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, Arizona, New Mexico and Tennessee, all armed with 14-inch main batteries, and as far as Rodman was concerned, a match for any warships on the planet) “… execute Action Plan B, on course zero-seven-three, speed at 18 knots.”

  Rodman watched the maneuver through his field glasses, and was gratified by the smooth perfection with which his orders were executed, as the big ships gracefully formed a line to the stern of Nevada. It was evident that the weeks of rehearsing for this moment had not been in vain. Rodman was proud of his men and his ships, and he did not have the slightest doubt that they could sink anything the Germans sent against them. That fact the Germans dared to send out a single battleship, and an old one at that, to challenge the might of the U.S. Navy, was taken by the veteran Admiral as a personal insult. After he crossed the T of the little German column and put his battleships in position to annihilate the arrogant Prussians with broadsides of fourteen-inch armor-piercing shell, he wished he could then give the order to fire.