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

brought here, to let you know we’ve been ordered to rejoin the fleet. Sorry to spoil your little jaunt, but this is a serving naval vessel, at time of war.’

‘You’re rejoining the fleet?’ Johnny couldn’t understand what possible use this old boat could be. ‘I’m supposed to report to the Headquarters of the new Expeditionary Force, forthwith, which I’ve been told is on Lemnos.’

‘I am aware of that. We were pulled off duty and sent to the Adriatic to collect you like a bloody taxi and flogged ourselves to get you back and now before we can complete that task, we are ordered to take part in today’s operation. My men have hardly slept in three days – would you care to offer me an explanation?’ Barringtons glared.

‘I must have enemies in high places,’ Johnny said. The invisible hand of Sir George Smyth was obviously at play, sending him to war in a death trap.

The Sub lieutenant frowned. ‘Yes, you seem the type to make enemies and it’s my men who are going to suffer as a result.’

‘But how, I mean, what exactly do you do?’ Johnny asked.

‘Good God man, haven’t you noticed anything? We’re kitted out as a minesweeper.’

‘This is a minesweeper?’ Johnny asked, incredulous.

Barringtons tapped the steel plate, impatiently. ‘What do you think this is for and why do you think there are Royal Navy sailors on a fishing trawler?’

‘Just guests really,’ the old man at the wheel mumbled, straining to keep the boat on course.

‘It is the Skipper’s boat.’ The Sub-lieutenant glanced at the helmsman. ‘It’s been very decent of the civilian crews to carry out minesweeping operations, but we’re here to help them out when the shells start falling.’

‘Shells…’ Johnny nearly said there weren’t any shells, but didn’t want to explain how he knew that. ‘Surely you could put me ashore on the way past Lemnos, it’s just over there…’

‘What are you talking about?’ Barringtons interrupted and pointed at the land on the left. ‘That’s Turkey, you idiot! The Gallipoli peninsula to be precise.’

He pointed at a hazy blur to the right. ‘That’s Asia minor, sight of the siege of Troy and all things classical.’ He moved his hand to a narrow strip of water which Johnny had thought was an island inlet. ‘And in the middle of it all is what the fuss is about, the Dardanelles Strait.’

Barringtons swung his arm in a flourish and pointed at the line of ships on the horizon. ‘That’s the fleet and it’s going to force the Straits today, regardless of your orders!’

‘How are we going to do that in this bucket?’ Johnny asked as the trawler lurched sideways and he nearly gagged.

‘Come on, Daisy lass, buck up,’ the Skipper snarled.

‘What?’ Johnny snapped thinking the old geezer was insulting his manhood.

‘That’s what he calls the boat,’ Barringtons said. ‘She doesn’t have an official Admiralty name. When the navy doesn’t give its vessels a name it usually means they aren't expected to come back.’ The Sub gave Johnny a condescending smile. ‘You shouldn't have joined up if you couldn't take a joke.’

Johnny watched the line of distant battleships steam into the Straits. The most powerful weapons ever constructed. Set against the rough barren waste land of antiquity, they were like something from War of the Worlds.

Chapter 34

Spurred on by an urgent call to arms, Laszlo Breitner charged up the fort’s stone steps as fast as his mutilated leg would allow and ran along the barbettes that housed huge bulbous guns. Well-drilled gunners were rushing to ready them to meet the distant grey shapes coming through the Straits.

He reached his assigned position. An observation post between two of the guns, and looked over the parapet at the Dardanelles, enjoying the bright sunshine flickering across the clear blue water. Breitner found it hard to believe that under that serene stretch of water lay rows of mines, which were all that effectively stood between the enemy and Constantinople.

It was, Breitner felt nonetheless, a very romantic view, stretching all the way down to the ruined forts at the entrance of the Straits some fifteen miles away. More importantly it gave the guns a complete field of fire. Straight down the throat of the enemy.

Fort Anadolu Hamidiye 1 was sited on the banks of the narrows, just outside the city of Chanak on the Asian side of the Dardanelles. It had been built in 1837 and was a relatively modern design, flat and open, with a large earthen rampart. It had since been reinforced with yellow sandstone gun emplacements cut into the rampart and resembled the edge of a saw.

There were nine model 1885 Krupp guns altogether, two 355mm and seven 240mm. Rusty and obsolete, they lacked the range of the modern naval guns they faced.

The British guns, designed to punch holes in steel warships, had however provided ineffective against the fort. Scoring a number of hits and destroying a shell store, but making no notable effect to the functioning of the fort. Only a direct hit on a gun was enough to put them out of action.

When Breitner viewed the task that the Allies had set themselves logically, it looked impossible. It would take remarkable accuracy to score such a hit on a gun, from a moving platform, while avoiding mines and return fire. He could not see how they hoped to achieve it. Breitner wondered if the Royal Navy had forgotten Nelson’s dictum that only a fool attacks a fort with a ship.

Unfortunately, no amount of logic could stop Breitner’s legs from shaking as three lines of enemy battleships gradually came into focus. The enemy was attacking in force and he wondered if that was due to his ruse. It may have been prudent to let the enemy think they are weaker than they actually were, but it was another matter when they arrived.