The Dardanelles Conspiracy by Alan Bardos (best ereader for pc TXT) 📗

a surprisingly high-pitched voice, for someone who’d grown up on a parade ground. He pointed at a sleek battleship that towered over their cruiser. ‘That lovely sea monster over there.’

‘Me... Sir?’ Sir George was taken aback. The man had hardly said three words to him, now he was being invited to attend a staff meeting aboard the flagship.

‘Yes, you sir, you are a naval liaison officer!’ Hamilton shrieked. Sir George smiled humourlessly, not letting his irritation at Hamilton’s tone show. This could after all be an opening. He was clearly marked as a man of destiny even to a vulgar eccentric like Hamilton.

That afternoon Sir George and Hamilton repaired to a stateroom aboard HMS Queen Elizabeth. Sir George knew of the flagship from his time at the Admiralty. It was the first of a new super dreadnought class, and, armed with 15-inch guns, was the most powerful warship in the world.

Sir George stood awkwardly to attention, unsure what to do as Hamilton was introduced to the French and British naval officers attending the meeting. Hamilton was the most senior person present, so Sir George didn’t pay them any mind.

Sir George wasn’t invited to sit at the table and was forced to stand at the back with the other supernumeraries while Vice Admiral de Robeck, the commander of the Allied fleet briefed Hamilton on the state of play.

‘As I’m sure you are aware, Sir Ian, our plan was to reduce the defences of the Dardanelles Strait in stages. However, we had little idea of the strength of the inner defences. Every attempt we’ve made to clear them has failed. The only consolation I have is that at least we haven’t lost any ships.'

De Robeck paused and Hamilton nodded to show he followed. 'It all sounds pretty bloody.’

‘That’s one way of putting it,’ De Robeck said. ‘The defences along the inside of the Strait are extremely well organised. We can dominate the main batteries, silencing them, for a time at least. However, to get in and finish them off we need to clear the minefields that protect them. In order to clear the minefields, we must first silence a network of hidden field guns and howitzers that protect them from our mine sweepers.

‘It is the hidden batteries that are the main stumbling block. They are extremely difficult to spot and the aircraft we are using can hardly fly above sea level let alone rifle fire.’

‘But surely a great sea monster like this, has little to fear from a howitzer?’ Hamilton asked.

De Robeck grimaced. ‘Getting hit by a 5.9-inch shell is distinctly unpleasant – especially in the old pre-dreadnoughts we are using. Concealed behind hills or dips in the ground, the howitzers can shoot straight up and drop a shell down onto their wooden decks. The lightly armoured parts of the superstructure on all our ships are also extremely vulnerable to this type of fire. As are the ready use ammunition lockers. And should we break through the Dardanelles Strait, these guns will be able to make life impossible for the unarmoured support ships and transports following us to Constantinople.’

‘Yes, I see.’ Hamilton evidently didn’t need a lecture on artillery. ‘Your ships are designed to fight on a flat trajectory side on, against other ships. Vertically dropping shells on you, from behind a hill, isn’t really playing the game.’

‘It’s certainly playing merry hell with our mine-sweeping operations. The converted North Sea trawlers we’ve been given are simply not up to the task. Their clapped-out engines struggle against the fast tide of the Straits and they are extremely vulnerable to enemy fire. We’ve tried to armour them as best we can, but there is precious little protection in their wooden hulls.’

Sir George began to pay a little more attention. There might be a purpose to this meeting after all. De Robeck looked at an upright naval officer sitting next to him. ‘Keyes, my chief of staff, went out with the trawlers on the last attempt.’

‘Yes sir, we’ve been trying to clear the minefields at night to give the sweepers a sporting chance, but the Turks have deployed search lights, subjecting the sweepers to the most terrific barrages. And as we can’t give effective covering fire sweeping becomes impossible.’ Keyes spoke pointedly and Sir George could sense his frustration. He was evidently a firebrand. ‘Had we been provided with fleet minesweepers, crewed by Royal Navy sailors, things would have been different.’

‘Our civilian trawler men have shown terrific courage, but they were not recruited to be shelled,’ de Robeck added. ‘Keyes has placed naval personnel aboard the trawlers to stiffen their resolve, but as things stand nothing can be done until we’ve cleared the mines. Before that can be done, the shore batteries must be silenced.’

De Robeck glanced at Hamilton, who was listening thoughtfully. ‘Despite that, I believe that our best course of action is still to clear the Straits through a naval assault. The enemy have been building up their defences against possible landings ever since we shelled their outer forts, in November.’ Admiral de Robeck drew himself up. ‘I therefore intend to launch a naval coup de main. The latest intelligence reports from London suggest that the Turks are running short of shells, which should even the odds. Troops will therefore only be employed after the forcing of the Straits. In mopping up operations and to act as an occupying force. I hope that doesn’t impede your plans, Sir Ian?’

‘No, it all sounds eminently sensible. I’m sure you have every chance of succeeding on your own, without my help.’ Hamilton seemed charmed by the Admiral. ‘Your plans sit perfectly with General Kitchener's intentions for the Expeditionary Force. My orders are merely to act as a second string. Should the Navy be unsuccessful then we are to step in. It is very much your innings.'

'Those are your only orders, sir?' Keys asked in disbelief.

'As it