WesWorld

Good posts from Bruce and Brock with some well thought out stuff.

I can't help thinking that Hrolf, when he decided to co-develop the Blackburn B.44 floatplane fighter had already conceived the problem Lütjens now faces, his seaplane screen being effectively removed and his force being blinded. Hrolf and I felt even 4-5 sim years ago that ship-based seaplanes were vulnerable targets. While the FAA uses its B.44s as lagoon-based figher cover in remote areas at the moment, Blackburn is working on a catapult-launched recon-fighter variant with a camera in the rear fuselage. While not equal to a proper carrier-based fighter it is at least a faster target to intercept, more manouevrable and with four 20mm cannon packs a punch when it does need to fight.

Quoted

Originally posted by Hood
I can't help thinking that Hrolf, when he decided to co-develop the Blackburn B.44 floatplane fighter had already conceived the problem Lütjens now faces, his seaplane screen being effectively removed and his force being blinded. Hrolf and I felt even 4-5 sim years ago that ship-based seaplanes were vulnerable targets. While the FAA uses its B.44s as lagoon-based figher cover in remote areas at the moment, Blackburn is working on a catapult-launched recon-fighter variant with a camera in the rear fuselage. While not equal to a proper carrier-based fighter it is at least a faster target to intercept, more manouevrable and with four 20mm cannon packs a punch when it does need to fight.

Speaking just for myself, I don't think the B.44 would be doing any better in this scenario unless we artificially inhibited the capability of the carrier aircraft in order to "make it fair" to the floatplanes. In fact, I think they might even be doing worse.

The speed of the B.44 really wouldn't matter much in the sort of situations the German floatplanes are encountering. You don't run air searches at full speed, since it it cuts into the fuel economy. These floatplanes are getting bounced while they're going around their search patterns, often without warning, by groups of two to four Milans. The CAP fighters have so many advantages. They're at higher altitudes, and they can convert altitude into speed to attack a floatplane. They have a numeric advantage (the French task force currently fields fifty-six fighters). They have the further advantage of competent direction from surface ships equipped with centimetric radar. And, due to Godfroy's tactic of offensive counter air, there's no point at which they are safe unless it's on the deck of their mothership.

Comparing the B.44 and the Ar-196 used in this situation, the Arado gives several critical capabilities the Blackburn does not. The Arado has more than one set of eyes, and the observer can call in reports while the pilot concentrates on flying. The Arado also has a rear machine gun, which shouldn't be overlooked. I still think the Blackburn, while it's got a 'gee-whiz' factor, will probably not be as reliable as a regular floatplane, and that's going to be a more crucial factor than anything else. There's no second crewman to radio things in to the ship; no second pair of eyes to see what the first might miss. Putting a camera in a catapultable B.44 really isn't going to help unless the plane's taking photos of ground targets - it's not like the pilot will develop the photos in flight, after all.

As I see it, "the problem Lutjens faces" is not that he brought Arados instead of some other aircraft. It's that Lutjens brought a one-trick pony (a surface ship force) to the exercise, while Godfroy brought a three-trick pony, with carriers, submarines, and battleships. To borrow from Tukhachevsky, Godfroy's using the depth of resources in his own task force composition in order to compensate for his lack of depth in quantity of resources. That said, Lutjens has done a pretty good job offsetting those advantages as much as he is able.

I'm not saying its the only problem Lutjens faces, just an observation of what might have been and what was forseen.
I'm talking generally of seaplanes, the Arado is compact and has a good armament and is a tough nut to crack. I don't think the B.44 is that unreliable, no more so than any undercarriage and the much larger B.20 did not have mechanical problems either. I don't see the pilot having problems flying and using a radio, after all fighter pilots do it all the time and most tactical recon from 1943 (overland at any rate) onwards in WW2 was done by fighters. Even so the Boeing F8F, Martin Mauler, Douglas BTD-1 and Douglas Skyraider by 1945 were showing a one-man trend. Also we can't forget the one-man Curtiss SC Seahawk too. The the few two-seaters (Spearfish) had remote-controlled barbettes with HMGs for defensive effectiveness at the cost of weight and performance etc.
Also, no Navy can always plan to have ample carriers and subs around it all the time...

Thursday, 17 June 1943 – The North Atlantic

As the sun fell towards the western horizon, Admiral Godfroy stayed on Paris's flag bridge and watched the plot as it was continuously updated by one of the ensigns as reports came in from the aircraft.

I think we need to make Chatelaine's night tracking part of the doctrine, Godfroy thought to himself. It's tough work, but it has such a payoff. Now I hope my current gamble pays off.

Suffren's searching Epaulards had found the second opposition battleship force late in the afternoon, turning northwest at speed behind a screen of light cruisers. With the four Sachsens lurking to the north, Godfroy was nearly caught in a pincer movement. There was the temptation to take advantage of the gap between the two battleship forces: Godfroy thought that he could dash through without interception, but that temptation was weak. The four Audaciaux class destroyers escorting the task force were low on fuel - so low that Paris and Justice had used their minimalist underway replenishment gear to pass hoses over to top them off in the afternoon, just in case they had to use their fuel during the night. Really wish I'd been able to get more modern destroyers to join my task force.



Forty kilometers north of the main task force, Duquesne was still alone, having discharged her orbiting fighters for the night, and recovered her floatplane. Now the cruiser was running south to rejoin her comrades - and the sparks in her aerials told her crew that she was not alone.

Lieutenant Bruno Haun looked at the greenish Signal Autoplot Scope with its bewitching rotating sweep. The DRBV-9 teledetector on the top of Duquesne's mainmast was easily picking up Paris and Justice to the south, with less distinct returns for their escorting destroyers - but to the northeast, at the reliable maximum range of the DRBV-9, a small nest of contacts was slowly resolving.

Haun picked up the sound-powered phone. "TD Control to Bridge."

The three non-commissioned officers operating the teledetector equipment were fiddling with their gear, and one of them pointed to one of his readouts, gesticulating at his co-workers.

"This is Capitaine Moreau," the bridge answered.

"Capitaine, TD reports surface contacts, range estimated eight-zero bearing zero-four-zero. Second group at range estimated seven-zero bearing zero-five-zero. No estimate of target group speed or bearing at this time. First group is indistinct but second group is four definite individual strong contacts in line northwest-southeast."

Haun heard Capitaine Moreau swearing over the sound-powered telephone. A few moments later, the feel of the deck changed underfoot as Duquesne answered her helm and came around to the west-southwest. The turbines slowly began working her up to speed.

For a few minutes, Haun wasn't certain whether or not the little blips were chasing them or still moving away. Finally the senior NCO looked up, gestured to a readout, nodded, and smiled. Two minutes later, the last of the contacts disappeared out of range.

Moreau kept the Duquesne running westward at twenty-eight knots for another two hours before looping back southward to rejoin the rest of the fleet. If the Germans had seen Duquesne - Haun suspected they probably had - they might be tricked into believing the French carriers were still to their west, rather than slipping away, fox-like, to the southeast.



Dawn of the eighteenth found the Atlantic Fleet intact and unengaged. Godfroy, drinking a stiff coffee to battle his fatigue, looked at the overnight reconnaissance reports. Chatelaine's night-flying pilots had lost the northern battleship force overnight, as the range increased; but they'd maintained a track on the much closer group, which had continued to the northwest during the night. Godfroy slowly nodded and smiled. Have to tip my hat to you, Monsieur Admiral Lutjens. Fine performance.

"All right, gentlemen," Godfroy said. "Let's go meet up with our replenishment group. We've got some nervous and thirsty destroyer skippers."

Quoted

Originally posted by Hood
... <snippage>
I don't see the pilot having problems flying and using a radio, after all fighter pilots do it all the time and most tactical recon from 1943 (overland at any rate) onwards in WW2 was done by fighters. ... <snippage>

Therein lies several of the reasons for the KM retaining a two seater aircraft for the over-water search mission.

1 - Navigation - without landmarks to provide a visual guide, the pilot of a scouting aircraft has to be able not only fly, but navigate his aircraft and *know where he is* when he spots his targets. These two tasks are difficult enough to leave him little time to observe and operate his radio set.

2 - Communications - the technology of the time had naval search aircraft rely on morse code transmissions rather than voice. While wonderful for fighter control voice communications could not be encrypted at this time, and the longer-wave lengths used by morse transmissions were of far greater range than VHF wavelengths used for voice. Thus the wireless operator/air gunner would be responsible for encrypting a sighting report and assuring its transmission and receipt. Indeed, some aircraft in this role were three-seaters, like the Aichi E13A1 Jake for this very reason, providing a dedicated observer to spread the workload.

3 - Mission - the Arado is intended to conduct long-range search missions and report back findings in real time, not conduct photo-reconnaissance and bring back the pictures for development.

It's worth noting that the USN, having ordered the Curtiss SC-1, also sought from the manufacturer the SC-2 Seahawk, a two seater thought to be of greater utility for search missions; only nine aircraft of this type were completed prior to VJ-day. The SC-1 also served as a tactical observation aircraft, controlling the fire of offshore bombardment vessels, and not conducting long-range searches - by 1945 the USN had far-better carrier aircraft to undertake that mission.

So, upon reflection, even if the Kriegsmarine had pursued development of the B.44 in conjunction with Blackburn, Lutjens would be no better off than at present.

Friday, 18 June 1943 – The North Sea

The U-121 moved slowly through the pre-dawn murk. Her commander, Kapitänleutnant Karl-Ernst Schroeter, kept her lingering on the surface to give his generators the maximum time to charge the U-boat’s batteries, and to move quickly if another of the boats on the patrol line spotted the advancing carrier task force.

The part of the U-boats in this exercise was merely to observe and report, and they had been tied to relatively small patrol stations; it was not a tactic Schroeter would have chosen.

-----

The Fieseler Fi168 “Hammerhai” had been launched more than an hour ago from the deck of the Graf Zeppelin as part of the advancing task force’s antisubmarine patrol. The operator turned the knob alongside the display screen to sharpen the image, and spoke to the pilot over the aircraft’s intercom; the pilot turned the aircraft slightly to the west. The Hohentwiel-H detection apparatus in the pod beneath the starboard wing indicated a contact on the surface below. The air gunner tapped out this news to a second Fi168 which followed in the wake of the first using an Aldis lamp. The two aircraft now descended, the second more steeply than the first.

-----

The lookouts aboard the U-121 did not see the aircraft that approached them from the east, out of the sun now rising above the horizon. Too late one of them shouted an alarm, but by then the submarine had been bracketed by a pair of smoke pots, simulating an attack. As the attacking Fi168 flew off in the distance, wagging its wings in parting salute, Schroeter looked up to see a second aircraft zoom overhead and follow in the direction of the first.

“Damnation,” he muttered. “I’ve been sunk.”

-----

Vizeadmiral Hermann von Fischel read the report from the exercise umpires with a sense of pleasure. The morning’s antisubmarine patrol had caught and ‘sunk’ two of the U-boats on the patrol line, and his task force had not been spotted. Lindenau’s caution in ordering the pre-dawn launch of the antisubmarine patrol proved to be completely in order – by getting aircraft equipped with detection apparatus in the air early they had caught the patrolling U-boats unaware.

Later that morning the German carrier task force, well clear of the Orkney Islands, turned northwest and then west, and headed towards the operational area of the exercise. It would effect refueling before doing so, and begin its role in the main exercise on the following day.

-----

Friday, 18 June 1943 – The North Atlantic

The two groups of German battleships made rendezvous near dawn, but to Lütjens it was clear that the prey had made good an escape. He had hoped to catch the French but their persistent search aircraft had obviously warned their commander of the approach of the battle groups and the French commander had wisely made off – the question was in which direction.

Kapitan First Rank Sergei Orlov stood beside Lütjens as the latter stared at the current plot; he could sympathize with the German commander, though he quietly applauded the skill with which the French commander had handled his ships. “Admiral,” Orlov ventured, “what will you do now?”

“The are four possibilities as to where the French have gone,” Lütjens began to say, partly in response to Orlov’s question and partly to work through his own thoughts.

“It is possible that the French have continued to move westward, dancing out of our way while reading an air strike intended to cripple us. The weather remains good, and no matter which direction the French have taken, I expect an air attack. Our Seetakt will give us good warning of such.” Lütjens paused and considered. “The French could have turned to the north, hoping to avoid Admiral Burchardi’s oncoming battle group, but such a move would place our forces between the French aircraft carriers and their tankers, who I expect are operating somewhere here,” he concluded, drawing a wide circle on the map to the southeast of their current position.

“That would be a dangerous position for the French,” Orlov noted, “unless they chose to attack your own supply ships which are operating here.” Orlov tapped the northwest quadrant of the exercise area to emphasize the point.

“True, if the French knew that they were there” noted Lütjens. “Then we all could run out of fuel together,” he said with a small laugh. “It is also possible that since my French counterpart has better knowledge of where my ships are than I have of his, he could have tried to thread the needle and pass eastward between the two pincers of the battle force, where they may surmise my supply ships to be. This would be a bold move, but quite risky to have effected at night.”

“I believe that the French have moved to the south, or the southeast, to link up with the service force,” Lütjens concluded with an air of assurance. “They have done much high speed maneuvering in the last several days, and to have sailed thus far since departing Brest they have not had the opportunity to refuel since their departure. Their air attack on Langsdorff’s cruisers also cost them, and it will take time for them to replenish the gaps in their air squadrons. They would also retain the support of the patrolling submarines, which a move to the west or the north would deprive them of.”

“That is logical,” Orlov agreed. “Will you pursue?”

“No, unfortunately. My own destroyers are running low on bunkers,” Lütjens admitted, “and I wish to rejoin with Langsdorff’s cruisers and reconstitute the battle force before Admiral von Fischel’s aircraft carriers arrive on the scene; I expect that they shall do so tomorrow or the day after. We will go north to refuel, and try again to come to grips with our worthy foe.”

Within the hour the German battle force had turned north-northwest, towards its supply ships. Thus far it had failed in its mission to overcome its opponent by sheer strength; but then, with the exception of a single crippled cruiser, its combat power was undiminished, and a threat to any force foolish enough to come within gun range.

Friday, 18 June 1943 – The North Atlantic

Orlov pondered the decision Lütjens had made to refuel rather than attempt to track down the French task force and bring them to battle; it struck Orlov as conservative – when concentrated the German battle force could fend off any air attack two carriers could mount, and he doubted that the French surface escort could hold off four Bismarck class battleships, let alone four Sachsen class, for any length of time. He stopped by the officer’s mess for a cup of tea, where he found Konteradmiral Hans von Stosch, the chief of the group of umpires moderating the exercise.

Orlov sat down to engage von Stosch on the very point; not that he wished to sway the umpire’s decisions in any way, but to gain insight into the thinking of German commanders and to gauge German doctrine against that of the French, with which Orlov was familiar, and that of his own service.

“Admiral Lütjens has a dilemma,” von Stosch explained. “His original tactical planning foresaw more time for him to enter the exercise area before the arrival of the carrier task force under Admiral von Fischel. Had the French force under Admiral Godfroy not entered the arena, Lütjens would have been able to conduct operations with his supply train safely to his rear.”

Orlov lifted an eyebrow at the mention of the French commander. He knew Amiral Godfroy by reputation – not an aircraft carrier commander but a skillful commander of surface ships, calculating. Given the manner in which the French aircraft carriers had been handled it seemed likely that someone on Godfroy’s staff was providing excellent recommendations.

“So,” Orlov replied. “The presence of the French aircraft carriers was not expected. That does not mean that they should be ignored.”

“True,” von Stosch continued. “Sending the supply ships to the northwest while attempting to come to grips with Godfroy made sense at the time, but it now leaves the Battle Force vulnerable to a gabelangriff.”

Von Stosch quickly realized that Orlov was not familiar with the term. “Like a fork in chess,” he explained. “By entering the exercise area from the northeast von Fischel’s aircraft carriers can either strike directly at the Battle Force or obliquely at its supply train. If Lütjens dallied in pursuit of Godfroy, the situation would have become more dangerous.”

Orlov nodded, seeing the point von Stosch had made. He grasped some of the utensils lying on the mess table – spoons, salt cellars and the like, and put them into the relative positions as he remembered from Lütjens map. “So,” he said, “to reduce the threat of this forking movement, the Battle Force will affect its rendezvous and refuel, minimizing the potential loss if the train is attacked.”

“Indeed,” von Stosch agreed, “and it puts the Battle Force on the flank of the probable southwestward track of the Carrier Force. Should von Fischel mismanage his air search, Lütjens might be able to close the distance undetected.”

The Russian officer moved the impromptu markers on the table. “Yes,” he grunted, “it is possible.”

“More likely,” von Stosch said, “that von Fischel will run to the east or southeast, dancing away from Lütjens’ heavy thrust like a well trained fencer while nipping at the Battle Force’s weak spots.”

“I know that von Fischel’s force contains only two aircraft carriers,” Orlov announced. “That is insufficient strength to overcome the Battle Force’s antiaircraft defence. The exercise results will be inconclusive.”

“Unless someone makes a grievous error,” von Stosch concluded, “that is the likely outcome.”

Friday, 18 June 1943 - The North Atlantic, northeast of Scotland

Captain Second Rank Mikail Tupolev of the Russian Federation Navy stood on the bridge wing of the cruiser Magdeburg watching the fueling evolution with rapt interest. In terms of size there was little difference between the heavily-gunned cruiser and the replenishment ship Donau as the two ships matched course and speed, there was great difference in purpose. The Donau lay low in the water, laden with fuel, and from stations on her side pumped fuel into the Madgeburg’s bunkers at the rate of two tons a minute. Jackstays linked the two ships and dry stores and provisions were moved from the Donau to the Magdeburg in rapid succession. Beyond the Donau Tupolev could see the upper works of the cruiser Stralsund, also performing replenishment at sea.

“It is interesting is it not,” asked Konteradmiral Ralf von der Marwitz, who had walked up alongside the Russian officer un-noticed.”

“Yes Admiral,” Tupolev said with a start. “The Donau is a most interesting vessel, and I must comment the quartermasters on all three ships for the steadiness of their ship handling.”

“Quite so,” replied von der Marwitz. “It has required much training to attain this level of proficiency.”

Tupolev considered the likely cost of a ship like the Donau and unexpectedly asked, “Admiral, why does the Kriegsmarine require such vessels? Are not ordinary fleet oilers sufficient?”

“Both types of supply ships have their role to play in supporting us at sea,” von der Marwitz explained. “The Donau can provide us with all manner of supplies, and, while our fleet oilers carry small quantities of stores and provisions, they do not have the capacity to provide for all the needs of the aircraft carriers.” He pointed aft to where the oiler Sauerland was fueling a pair of destroyers. “They take care of the needs of the escort vessels. In wartime, of course, the number of supply ships would grow astronomically.”

Tupolev had studied the growth of the Kriegsmarine’s service force over the last four years; a singularly large investment, which conferred on the Kriegsmarine a longer reach than many European navies. Nearly one fifth of the ships taking part in the exercise were supply ships of one sort or another. Given the ability of the Kriegsmarine to maintain its forces at sea, Tupolev was happy that his nation and Germany were formal allies.

-----

Vizeadmiral Hermann von Fischel was taking no chances with the eyes of the exercise umpires upon him. A regular combat air patrol flew above the Carrier Force as it refueled before formally entering the operational area; so too flew an antisubmarine patrol – one could not be certain that a foreign ship might blunder into his path at an inopportune moment. More importantly he had ordered that a search be made to the northwest, west and southwest, the likeliest approaches for the Battle Force if perchance Lütjens chose to meet the Carrier Force head on. Eight pair of Fieseler Fi168 scout bombers had been launched, each carrying a 220 kg practice bomb, what they would carry if their mission were real.

Von Fischel did not expect them to find anything; the latest information that had been disclosed to him put the Battle Force well to the southwest, having sailed in pursuit of the French carrier force with whom he was to cooperate. Given the plot, he expected to find the Battle Force some time on the next day to his west or perhaps northwest. Time would tell.

-----

Günther Lütjens was pleased to find the three ‘surviving’ cruisers of Langsdorff’s squadron had already made rendezvous with the supply ships and had refueled; his own destroyers could thus more rapidly fill their bunkers and take on stores required to maintain the combat readiness. The ‘loss’ of Prinz Eugen was unfortunate but not fatal to the plan for the exercise. Now at least Lütjens could advance to battle with his supply ships somewhat protected by his own Battle Force. Today they would concentrate on refueling, and making ready what replacement scouting aircraft were carried aboard the battleships and heavy cruisers; the ‘losses’ of the Arado floatplanes to the French were grievous – of the thirty four scout planes available to him at the outset of the exercise no fewer that fifteen had been ‘lost completely’ – including those aboard the Prinz Eugen.

Signals intelligence suggested that the French carrier group was well to the southeast of his position; Lütjens suspected that his opposite number had hauled off to refuel and rebuild his carrier strike squadrons. He also knew that von Fischel’s two aircraft carriers would be somewhere to the east. If the weather would worsen, he felt it possible that could evade air searches and fall upon the flank of the Carrier Force. However, one does not count upon the cooperation of the weather.

Friday, 18 June 1943 - Atlantic Ocean

Vice-Admiral Godfroy watched from the bridge of the Paris as the last of his destroyers broke away from the tankers. He'd rendezvoused with the tanker force shortly before noon, and quickly started to refill his thirsty escort ships. The last of them, the longer-legged and modern Barfleurs, were the last to tank up. Godfroy wished he could send his shorter-ranged Audaciaux class ships behind, but he hesitated to re-enter the exercise area with two capital ships, two carriers and a cruiser protected only by four destroyers. I wish I had a dozen more Barfleurs, or Sabres, or the Surcoufs...

Reports from the submarine scouting line, and Suffren's air scouts, confirmed that Admiral Lutjens had retired northward, presumably to refuel. Godfroy wished he could have followed immediately, playing the clever hound nipping at the heels of the lumbering bear. But fuel and stores had been more important.

It will be nice to have some more carriers on the scene for the rest of the exercise, Godfroy mused to himself. If only I knew von Fischel's plans - or his strategy and intentions, and he knew mine. I wonder if...

Saturday, 19 June 1943 – The North Atlantic - The German Battle Force

Admiral Lütjens arrived on the Bismarck’s bridge in the early morning hours and was pleased to find that there was finally intelligence regarding the possible location of his adversaries.

“Late yesterday we detected a transmission from a source located to the southeast,” explained the force intelligence officer. “It was speaking to a shore station, which replied approximately two hours later.”

Lütjens nodded. This information, such as it was, was what the exercise umpires allowed him to know. “Presumably this is the French carrier group,” he allowed.

“Yes Herr Admiral,” the intelligence officer continued. “While we do not know the content, the transmission characteristics are consistent with the practice of the Marine Nationale. We also surmise that the shore station with which it was in contact was the French naval base at Brest; its traffic was picked up on that bearing.”

“They are far out of range at that point,” said Lütjens. He pointed to markers to the northeast of the Bismarck’s present location. “If I were to guess, this would be von Fischel’s aircraft carrier group.”

“Just so Herr Admiral,” replied the intelligence officer. “It acknowledged a signal from a shore station some two hours after the signal sent from Brest. The source subsequently sent several signals, which were acknowledged by what we believe to be the French carrier group.”

Lütjens slowly nodded. “They are trying to coordinate the efforts. If I were in von Fischel’s place I would sail southwest or perhaps south-southwest to close the distance with the French. Whether the French would oblige is a different question. Thank you.”

He stepped out onto the port bridge wing to be alone with his thoughts a moment. In the distance he could see the great mass of one of the Sachsen class battleships completing her refueling. He had ordered all ships to take on board the maximum fuel, draining as many of his oilers as they could, with the intention of sending home those emptied and reducing the size of his fleet train. They would sail an evasive course and exit the exercise area, increasing the effective escort of those that remained. He returned to the bridge.

“When fueling is complete detach the ships of the Second Supply Group as planned. The Battle Force will then set course 130.”

-----

Saturday, 19 June 1943 – The North Atlantic - The German Carrier Force


Vizeadmiral Hermann von Fischel had reacted swiftly to the information conveyed from Fleet Command in Berlin and had opened communication with his French opposite number. The presence of the team of umpires aboard his ships, and those of Amiral Godfroy, cut through some of the problems that would have been encountered if this was a real operation and not an exercise. Von Fischel made the mental note that inter-operability of signals equipment and communication protocols would have to be addressed in the exercise post-mortem.

He had ordered a course change to 210 and increased speed to eighteen knots; it was the fastest he dared go without overtaxing the fuel consumption of his destroyers. He had ordered Lindenau to concentrate his air search to the northwest and west, in case Lütjens had picked up the signals traffic between the two carrier groups and tried to interpose his battleships. In any event, he looked forward to the proposed visit by the French commander to his flagship. “A bit of le touché Nelson,” he mused.

Quoted

Originally posted by BruceDuncan
Vizeadmiral Hermann von Fischel had reacted swiftly to the information conveyed from Fleet Command in Berlin and had opened communication with his French opposite number. The presence of the team of umpires aboard his ships, and those of Amiral Godfroy, cut through some of the problems that would have been encountered if this was a real operation and not an exercise. Von Fischel made the mental note that inter-operability of signals equipment and communication protocols would have to be addressed in the exercise post-mortem.

An interesting point. I assume that in WW the KM uses Engima encryption for its radio comms as OTL. What system do the French use? I would assume from the info in these posts than unless the French possess Engima machines that some other method of encrpytion is being used to communicate with the French bases and French commanders. Given the belief of the Germans that Engima is unbreakable (nothing has happened in WW to suppose fundamentally alter that) would von Fischel and other German commanders be happy to entrust a possibly weaker system? Its fine in peacetime but under war conditions it may be a dangerous move, so I was wondering whether there would be some moves towards adopting a common system based on the highest secure encryption system?

Actually, the Kriegsmarine does not use the OTL Enigma system for high-level communications, but a combination of codebooks and machine-based enciphering equipment. Other comsec systems are used at lower levels.

For purposes of the exercise, all communications intelligence and traffic analysis is being run through the exercise umpires - and the involvement of shore stations in the exchange to handle the initial 'introductions'.

You are quite correct though - one of the unintended lessons of this exercise will be exposing the need to improve inter-operability in a number of areas - communications being one.

Quoted

Originally posted by Hood
An interesting point. I assume that in WW the KM uses Engima encryption for its radio comms as OTL. What system do the French use? I would assume from the info in these posts than unless the French possess Engima machines that some other method of encrpytion is being used to communicate with the French bases and French commanders.

What the French use depends on the sort of communications that are required.

Historically, the French Army used Hagelin or Hagelin-inspired cipher machines from 1936 onward. This is like the Enigma machine but... different. (It's completely mechanical, unlike the Enigma, but has the benefit of being extremely portable.) In 1942, the Marine Nationale believed that someone had gotten a hold of a C-36 machine and the the necessary codes, and they switched to using a SAGEM telex machine. As telex codes would be electronic rather than using mechanical rotors like the Enigma or Hagelin machines, they're going to be harder ciphers to break than something mechanical like Enigma.

As a small side-note of personal interest, my grandfather was part of a communications unit in Bermuda during WWII, and he typed the first telex message for the US Army.

Quoted

Originally posted by Hood
Given the belief of the Germans that Engima is unbreakable (nothing has happened in WW to suppose fundamentally alter that) would von Fischel and other German commanders be happy to entrust a possibly weaker system?

The Indians apparently received an export version of the German Enigma back before the falling-out, and the French FMF/2 (French Maritime Forces Dieuxeme Bureau) broke that system for a time in 1939 and decoded some outdated traffic. The Germans would probably have learned about that since the formation of the GA.

Saturday, 19 June 1943 – The North Atlantic - Force Opérationnelle Atlantique

St. Cyr's helicopter touched down lightly on Paris's quarterdeck, the pilot staying well clear of the cranes and catapults for the battlecruiser's own floatplane compliment. Admiral Godfroy and Capitaine Chatelaine ducked as they moved to the open side doors, buckling in before the Cigale lifted off and turned to the northwest.

The flight to the Graf Zeppelin was uneventful, and covered by two Milans from the French fleet; an escort of Fw190Ms from the German CAP appeared midway between the fleets, and guided the SH.22M towards the force flagship. Circling several times around the fleet while waiting the signal to land, Godfroy evaluated the German force with a bit of envy. Two heavy cruisers, eight light cruisers, sixteen modern destroyers - a good force, strong in intermediate-caliber surface gunfire. And good antisubmarine coverage.

"Signal to land on the Zeppelin," the helicopter pilot announced. "I'm going to go ahead and put her down, Admiral."

"Right, go ahead," Godfroy said. He glanced over the Chatelaine. "Good call to use the helicopter instead of the aircraft, Capitaine. I hate arrested landings."

Chatelaine shrugged microscopically. "I'm too much of a traditionalist to entirely enjoy these machines, but it's just good sense to make use of them this way."

The Cigale came down to rest on the Graf Zeppelin's flight deck, and Godfroy unlatched the side door as the pilot shut the engine down.

Saturday, 19 June 1943 – The North Atlantic

The conference between the commanders of the two carrier forces has begun on a happy note; Godfroy and Chatelaine found that both von Fischel and Lindenau, who had been ferried over from Peter Strasser, spoke rather-good French, which eased much of their discussion. For his part, von Fischel had appreciated the wealth of information the French commander had brought with him regarding the observed movements of Lütjens’ Battle Force.

“Your decision to aggressively beat down the air search capabilities of the Battle Force has paid handsome dividends,” von Fischel commented. “It would seem that Lütjens never properly ascertained your position.”

Godfroy nodded. “True, but he came closer that I wished with the pincer movement of the two groups of battleships. The Duquesne escaped interception by good fortune.”

Von Fischel turned his gaze to the large plotting board that indicated the relative positions of the three groups of ships. “The latest sightings suggest that Lütjens attempted to intercept us as we moved closer to establish contact. The latest contact report put him to the north-northwest of our present position, on a course of 130. Unless he alters course to the south, he will pass behind us.”

“That seems likely,” Godfroy agreed. “But he will soon realize his error. I recommend that both task forces make off to the southwest.”

“I would agree,” von Fischel said, and turned to a staff officer, ordering a change to course 205 for the aircraft carriers, while ordering his supply train to head southeast before turning westward for a future rendezvous. “That should give us sufficient sea room to maneuver.”

Capitaine Chatelaine offered, “"Admiral, I would advise against attempting to join the two task forces."

The German commander nodded. “Such a move at this time would be unwise I think. Our tactics and doctrine differ – to operate as one task force is too great a step to be improvised.”

“Besides,” added Lindenau, “it would give Lütjens but one target to concentrate upon.”

Godfroy was thankful for the attitude taken by the Germans on the question. “If we coordinate our movements while maintaining a distance of perhaps one hundred to one hundred fifty kilometers, it would permit us to maximize our search options while maintaining insurance against an unfortunate encounter with the Battle Force.”

“A good suggestion,” replied von Fischel. “I would also propose an exchange of liaison officers to promote the exchange of information and hopefully minimize confusion in our forthcoming operations.”

Saturday, 19 June 1943 – The North Atlantic, Late Afternoon

Admiral Lütjens looked at the afternoon plot with distaste. His run to the southeast in the faint hope of intercepting one or the other carrier forces stalking him had proven a chimera. The long-legged and persistent French scouting aircraft had found the Battle Force in the early afternoon, and had no doubt warned both Opfor commanders of his location, course and speed. What was worse, traffic analysis suggested that von Fischel’s carriers had sidestepped eastward putting more distance between their flight decks and Lütjens’ guns. He turned and ordered a course change to 200 and increased speed to twenty knots; the fleet train and its escort could be left behind for the time being. If committed to a stern chase, he would do so with his warships only.

-----

The searching pair of Fi168 “Hammerhai” spotted the wakes of fast-moving warships, and changed their course; the huge battleships in double columns churned the waters of the Atlantic to a froth that no airman could miss. With the luxury of no defending fighter aircraft, the pilots could take their time to count the vessels in sight, identify their type, determine their location, log their course and estimate their speed.

“No tankers,” commented the element leader to his companion. “Do you see them?”

”Negative leader,” came the terse reply.

A contact report was tapped out and the two “Hammerhai” circled over their target until it was acknowledged. Each aircraft carried a 220kg practice bomb, which would be wasted on the armoured deck of a battleship or cruiser. But if the Battle Force had detached its tankers, they might be far worthier targets.

“Come to course 020,” the element leader ordered, putting the aircraft on a reciprocal course to the northeast. The “Hammerhai” banked in a gentle turn and flew off.

Below them the Seetakt screens of the Battle Force tracked their movements. When news that German scout aircraft had found his force was brought to Admiral Lütjens he was concerned, anticipating that von Fischel would waste little time in striking at his force.

-----

A half-hour of flying brought the “Hammerhai” to the Battle Force’s fleet train – the humps of the vessels appearing on the horizon and then resolving into recognisable shapes. They were on the same course as Lütjens’ battleships, but were moving at a more sedate twelve knots. Further contact reports were sent out, providing the Carrier Force with the location, course and speed of the vital supply ships. Having received acknowledgement, the two aircraft climbed, preparatory to attack.

“Remember to offset your point of aim,” the element leader cautioned. Even a 220 kg practice bomb would do considerable damage should it land squarely on the deck of a tanker.

The Fi168s screamed down from three thousand metres, releasing their bombs at five hundred metres before pulling out and skipping away at sea level. Both bombs fell near the tanker Altmark; in response the escort had thrown up a considerable amount of antiaircraft ‘fire’ in an attempt to defend the supply vessels.

The umpires, in considering the ‘attack’, considered both bombs to have missed the Altmark, but close enough to have caused splinter damage to her; the escort’s fire was deemed to have damaged both of the scouting “Hammerhai”, one severely.

Saturday, 19 June 1943 – The North Atlantic, Evening

Von Fischel sat on the wing of the flag bridge of the Graf Zeppelin to observe the operations on the flight deck below. The sixteen aircraft of Marine-Sturz-kampfstaffel 112 occupied the after end of her deck as they were prepared for a night launch. Admiral Lindenau had convinced him that a night attack on the Battle Force could be successful, if only to damage one or two vessels in order to slow down Lütjens’ progress. Von Fischel had his doubts, but the Hohentwiel-H detection apparatus with which the “Hammerhai” were equipped needed trial under combat conditions. While below decks crews prepared aircraft for a major air strike in the morning, these Fieselers would attempt to penetrate the ring of escorts around Lütjens’ battleships under the cover of night. “Who knows,” he mused. “They could get lucky.”

Night launch operations proceeded deliberately. The Fieselers carried a practice torpedo and maximum fuel load, to assure them the range to find their targets and return with a margin of safety. One-by-one they bolted down the deck of the Graf Zeppelin and circled the carrier as they formed up. When the last had joined, the formation set off to the northeast, their pilots reading dimly-lit gages while the operators of the Hohentweil-H kept careful watch. The sixteen aircraft flew low, barely twelve-hundred metres above the waves, hoping to minimise the chances of detection by the Battle Force’s Seetakt.

-----

Lütjens was in his cabin, finishing his personal log for the day’s activities, when a knock disturbed him. “Come!” he ordered.

It was Trautmann, the Bismarck’s captain. “Seetakt has picked up aircraft to the east of us Herr Admiral,” he reported. “Their course is reciprocal to ours, flying at approximately thirty kilometres distance.”

This news surprised him. Lütjens wondered whether this could be a force from the French carriers or from von Fischel’s; he knew his opposite number well – despite the faith evinced by the Marineflieger in the ability to sink vessels at sea, at heart von Fischel was a gunnery officer; Lütjens doubted that the aircraft were German. “I will join you on the bridge presently,” he announced.

A few moments later Lütjens had arrived on the Bismarck’s bridge. The course of the aircraft formation was plotted – it was presently off the port side of the formation, well beyond gun range of even the outer ring of destroyers.

A report came from the Seetakt station. “Aircraft have disappeared, I repeat, aircraft have disappeared.”

“That is odd,” said Trautmann with a note of concern in his voice.

“Yes,” said Lütjens slowly, looking at the plot. He then looked to starboard, where the moon cast a glow over the sea and his ships. He instantly recognised the danger.

“Order all ships to action station, immediately!” he said, rapidly. “Prepare for air attack to port; prepare for evasive maneuvers”

-----

Werner Hennigsdorf had led his squadron carefully across the dark sea, and had taken the time to select a position ‘down-moon’ from which to launch his attack on the Battle Force. The huge battleships stood out among the mass of returns in the display of the Hohentweil-H, indicating the priority targets. He had ordered his aircraft to descend to five hundred metres as they formed up for the attack, and he could now see the silhouettes of the ships in the distance.

“Forget the destroyers,” he told himself. “Save the fish for something worthwhile.”

Ahead of him he suddenly saw searchlights stab into the night, seeking his oncoming aircraft. Some were momentarily held in the searchlights’ glare, and then they were lost as their speed carried themselves closer to the Battle Force. Hennigsdorf concentrated on a battleship leading the port column; he hoped it was one of the big Sachsens – they were too huge to miss. At a distance of eight hundred metres he dropped his practice torpedo, and flew onwards, now lightened.

-----

The officers and men of the Battle Force responded to the unexpected ‘air attack’ in a disciplined manner, and the ships turned to starboard to comb the tracks of the torpedoes launched against them. Ponderous battleships however, do not turn quickly, a fact that the attacking aircraft knew; the close range at which they had dropped their ‘fish’ increased the odds of a hit.

The attack had lasted at best twenty minutes. It took the umpires several hours to determine the effectiveness of the strike and the defensive fire thrown up by the Battle Force. Defensive ‘flak’ was deemed to have shot down one aircraft before it launched its torpedo, and to have damaged two others while attempting to escape after launching. Of the fifteen torpedoes judged to have been dropped, one impacted the belt armor of the battleship Preussen, doing little damage.

Admiral Lütjens was far less happy with the result of the second torpedo, which had been deemed to have struck the Bismarck aft, damaging her steering gear. Nothing too serious, but it would require time for Trautmann’s crew to make it right. Time, Lütjens thought, he did not have.

For his part, Admiral von Fischel received the results of the air ‘attack’ with equanimity. Hits on two battleships – though damage assessment was uncertain. Only one aircraft lost in the ‘attack’, with two ‘damaged’. It seemed a good return for his risk. Against these imaginary gains he had to offset the real loss of two of the “Hammerhai” torpedo bombers sent out – only fourteen aircraft had returned to the Graf Zeppelin; he ordered an air search first thing in the morning for survivors.

at 245m/270m targets...

and only 2 hits of 15?

Tough umpires, lol!

Or maybe, a Big Ship background?

I think it could be real, because not every areal torpedo will hit and explode, or ???

Quoted

Originally posted by AdmKuznetsov
at 245m/270m targets...

and only 2 hits of 15?

Tough umpires, lol!

Or maybe, a Big Ship background?

OOC -

At night, with targets maneuvering at speed, under simulated combat conditions, perhaps. Tough umpires, allowing for 'simulated flak', perhaps.

Since Brock and I had agreed to about a 10% hit percentage on the French strike on Langsdorff's cruisers earlier in the exercise, I couldn't go for much better performance under night conditions.

Besides, the Bismarck has this big "MY RUDDER IS HERE" target bullseye on either quarter.