Part One
Wednesday, 3 July 1940
Captain Stephen Jarvis, of the steamer Yorkbrook, stood upon her starboard bridgewing, and noted Ushant off in the distance. It confirmed the home-bound course the freighter was steaming, and signaled that soon she would change course to turn up the Channel. Taking one last look about him, he saw in the distance the smoke of another steamer; this was no surprise – but as he continued to watch the smoke cloud seemed to grow larger, and then he could see the first hint of the upper works of a large vessel, still hull down. He entered the chart house, encountering his first officer, Edward Parker, and asked him to join him on the port-side bridgewing.
“There’s something unusual ahead,” he said, pointing Parker’s attention toward the approaching ship. “What do you make of her?”
Parker, like Jarvis, was a veteran of the Great War. Putting his glasses to his eyes he could now clearly see that the black blob resolved itself into two, no, three ships. Two were clearly warships; the third looked like a tanker, he long low lines indicating she was fully loaded to the plimsols. “Men o’war sir,” Parker replied. “Two big ships and a tanker.” While answering, he did not take his eyes off the three vessels.
“I suppose the Navy is exercising again,” said Jarvis, “or maybe the Frenchies. Close enough to Brest.” Jarvis too had his eyes riveted on the strangers. “I can’t see their colors.”
Parker’s voice betrayed his surprise. “They certainly not the Navy sir; not unless the RN has chosen a new paint scheme. And their lines don’t look French”. Parker stepped back into the chart house and began rummaging under the plotting table.
“At least they have no interest in us,” spoke Jarvis, as he too entered. “They seem to be keeping to themselves, and making good speed in doing so.” The foreign warships had now come abeam of Yorkbrook, and were perhaps two miles to port on a heading south-southwest.
Parker had found the book he sought and was thumbing through it quickly. The thick, oblong book with the green covers bespoke its name even open, ‘Janes Fighting Ships’. Parker stopped thumbing and laid the book on the table. “Battlecruisers sir, German by the look of them. And that tanker” he said, thumbing a few pages forward, “looks like one of their Dithmarchens. Fleet auxiliary. I wonder where they are going in such hurry.”
”Good question Mister Parker, but they are not likely to answer us if we ask. Change course once we weather Ushant and let us get home; we’ll soon find out what’s happening once we get there.”