Genesis of Antimony - Softcover

Carpenter, S.D.M.

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1945507934 ISBN 13: 9781945507939

Verlag: Clovercroft Publishing, 2018

Inhaltsangabe

November 1915 – HMS Halberd, while protecting a collier convoy, confronts a German cruiser. Through a gallant attempt, the convoy is saved, but the doughty little destroyer is outgunned and sunk. Only a few sailors survive, including Lieutenant John Braithwaite. Wounded and unfit for sea duty, Naval Intelligence Division (NID) recruits him for field work based on his knowledge of East Africa and fluency in German. The mission – discover the secret of the mysterious enemy light cruiser SMS Aachen operating out of German East Africa, which is devastating British shipping. How is Aachen always able to find targets? How does she always evade the Royal Navy? Arriving in Zanzibar, he meets the beautiful and charming Alice, code name MINSTREL, a widow serving as NID’s resident agent. Going aboard the enemy cruiser disguised as a native laborer, Braithwaite discovers references to “The Machine” and charts marked with the term “Station Wilhelm” located in the heart of Africa on Lake Nyasa. Together, Braithwaite and MINSTREL travel up the Zambezi River in search of the Aachen’s secret, but they must battle the elements as well as the Germans as they go deep into the Dark Continent.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

S.D.M. Carpenter, retired US Navy Captain, Professor of Strategy, and Command Historian at the US Naval War College in Newport, Rhode Island, holds Doctorate and Master’s degrees in British History specializing in military and naval history as well as in the twentieth-century world wars. Widely published on the seventeenth-century British Civil Wars, the American Revolution, and World Wars I and II, Professor Carpenter used his background as an historian and naval officer to craft a World War I historical novel of espionage, intrigue, and danger on the high seas and in East Africa.

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Genesis of Antimony

By S. D. M. Carpenter, Lapez Digital Services

Clovercroft Publishing

Copyright © 2018 S. D. M. Carpenter
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-945507-93-9

CHAPTER 1

A Valiant Little Warship

18 November 1914. The North Sea.

"Smoke on the horizon! Ninety degrees off the port bow, bearing ... wait ... bearing 270 degrees. Contact unknown!"

"Action Stations, Mr. Braithwaite!" came the crisp order from the captain who had just come onto the flying bridge at the top of the ship's conning tower.

"Aye, aye, Sir." The officer of the watch (O.O.W.) turned to the seaman and nodded. Without a word and with a piercing cry of the boatswain's pipe, he called the ship to battle stations. "All hands to action stations! All hands to action stations! All hands to action stations!"

With a clanging of hatches and heavy leather shoes scrambling across cold metal deck plates, HMS Halberd prepared for battle. Sailors just off watch rolled out of hammocks, bare feet hitting the decks, arms flailing to pull on shoes and uniforms. As sailors reached their battle stations, the clanking of wrenches reverberated about the spaces as they dogged down hatches and secured scuttles. Petty officers shouted orders as gun mounts and torpedo stations came to life. Below in the engine spaces, stokers pulled on their gloves, prepared to fire the boilers with more coal. Speed would be needed.

"Signals, bridge."

"Yeoman, aye," came the tinny voice in reply.

"Make a signal to all ships. Investigating contact. Make best speed and proceed on assigned course." Within seconds, signal flags fluttered up the halyards in the stiffening, cold, November sea breeze.

"All stations report manned and ready," shouted the sailor from the opposite side of the flying bridge.

"Very good," responded the captain. The O.O.W. marveled at the "old man's" calm demeanor and matter-of-factness. The captain raised his binoculars, scanning for any further contacts. None. A ship's mast broke the horizon as a setting sun illuminated the waves. The O.O.W. stared, transfixed by the water's calmness despite the freshening breeze.

"Mr. Braithwaite, what do you see?"

"Nothing yet, Sir. She could be one of ours or perhaps a German," he responded.

The captain merely nodded, and, with the calm voice of authority honed by years of sea service, issued the orders to intercept. "Set course 075, 20 knots."

Braithwaite gave the order crisply, "Helm, Port 20 degrees, come to course 075. Engines ahead for 20 knots."

The helmsman responded as the ship's wheel whirled to the left. "20 degrees Port, aye."

As Halberd picked up speed, a white foamy bow wake formed. The destroyer heeled to port. Lieutenant John David Fairchild Braithwaite had seen some minor action before in this new war of the 20th century. The doughty, stout little destroyer had earned her battle spurs in action in earlier engagements that late summer and early autumn against German raiders of the Kaiserliche Marine (Imperial German Navy) attempting to either shell port cities or interdict maritime traffic along Britain's North Sea coast. But somehow, someway, this action seemed different, as if two mounted knights prepared to charge at each other at full gallop. He felt a queasiness in his gut — one that he had not even felt in his first action at sea the previous August. He squinted into the gathering dusk, fearful for what he might see.

The unknown interloper looked to be in a wide turn clearly planning to intercept the collier convoy making steam for the safety of a nearby port. Its lookouts had spotted the multiple smoke plumes to the west. As the steamers read the escort's signal, each collier poured on the coals for maximum speed — the speed of flight. Halberd, now coming up to battle speed, raced to intercept the intruder on what had been to this moment, a routine convoy run down from Newcastle to the Thames.

"Port 10," Braithwaite calmly ordered as the helm quickly responded. The captain's quiet demeanor infected the anxious bridge watch with an amazing calmness despite the inward racing of heartbeats and beads of nervous perspiration welling up on foreheads and cheeks. For some, this would be their first action should the unidentified contact prove to be an enemy. Braithwaite marveled at the captain's incredible calm in the face of perilous combat, certain death, and destruction.

"Bridge, lookout," shouted the anxious seaman into the voice tube from the foretop lookout station as the intruder's funnels and upper superstructure came into better view.

"Bridge, aye," responded the captain as he leaned over the brightly polished brass speaking tube. "She looks like a cruiser, Sir. Can't make the class yet."

Before the lookout had even finished his report, Braithwaite started flipping through the pages of the enemy recognition book kept permanently at the O.O.W.'s station. Braithwaite shouted into the voice tube that led up the mast to the men with the best position for observation. He knew that the entire ship would know the interloper's nature soon enough. "Very good. Stay on her."

Braithwaite stared at the stoic commanding officer who, showing no emotion whatsoever, relit his briarwood pipe. "Could be a bad night, Mr. Braithwaite. A bad night, indeed." The O.O.W. could only muster an acknowledging nod. The young naval officer knew as much. A bad night, indeed.

Collingwood, the teenaged sub-lieutenant, as the Junior Officer of the Watch, barely out of public school, but already well-seasoned, had been tracking the contact in silence, and finally had a solution to report. "Contact bears 045 degrees. Estimated course 220, speed, 14 knots."

"Very good. Well, Mr. Braithwaite, it looks as if she intends to parallel us and close slightly. Let's close with her and let our colliers put some distance between." As the orders rang about the bridge, the destroyer raced to intercept the interloper. Torpedo tubes cranked out pointing to starboard, readied for launch. At the forward gun mount, a young sailor, trembling, rammed in a round, then looked over at the chief petty officer, who in the best stoic tradition of His Majesty's senior noncommissioned officers, nodded in approval. Halberd reached 20 knots, closing rapidly to a firing position.

"Contact bears 020 degrees off the starboard bow, range ...," the sub-lieutenant paused to re-check his calculation, "... range 10,000 yards. She looks to be a Kolberg-class light cruiser." In the distance, a white smoke puff from the contact signaled the fight had begun. The first rounds landed perilously close. Salt spray covered the fantail.

"This German knows his business," remarked the captain in obvious admiration. "Mr. Braithwaite, come right 20 degrees." The captain meant to close to torpedo range. Braithwaite stepped to the railing and gripped it tight, knuckles white with tension. The nervous anticipation never changed no matter how many times he had seen this before. He strode back to the chart table and opened the enemy recognition book.

"If she's a Kolberg, that beast has — let's see, 4.1-inchers — two forward and two aft with twelve total, plus 5-pounders. Torpedoes as well. Max speed looks to be 25 knots on all boilers." Braithwaite laid down the book and snapped the binoculars to his eyes. "More smoke. Looks like she is laying on the coal and coming up to speed."

The old man crossed his arms and grunted — a low, guttural acknowledgment as he nodded in agreement. "Come right another 30 degrees. Let's close the range."

"Right 30...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Clovercroft Publishing
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2018
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1945507934
• ISBN 13: 9781945507939
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 336
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar