Chapter 13

The flotilla carved the still waters of the Gulf of Finland leaving its foaming wake to gradually disperse far behind. On the bridge of the four-funnelled 'Destroyer Leader' Strelny, Commander Yvgeny Gorshin leaned out with his binoculars at the 5 trailing behind.

The Strelny was similar to the British Admiralty type 'V and W' Class, one of several donated to their 'Triple Entente' allies. It was bigger, however, some 1400 tons, and adapted as a command ship with a powerful Radio, extra torpedoes, and suitable accomodation for a Senior Officer and his staff.

"6 points starboard helm," he ordered, "I want an attack formation with Strelny in the centre."

"Yes, sir," he heard.

The bridge was open to the elements with just a windbreak of canvas spread on the handrail. In the middle was a lightly armoured tower housing the helm, and behind that the Radio shack. Aft, in the waist of the boat, the torpedo crews swung the two triple mounts outboard, fully loaded and ready for action.

"Tell the Gromky to keep station!" he ordered, "Feodorov's too anxious," he grinned.

"Yes, sir!"

"Sir!" yelled 'Observation, ' "West Norwest group... two Amazons and two 'G' class... looks like Augsburg and two more 'G's to the South."

"Ah, the Augsburg!" replied the Commander, "nothing like meeting old friends!" There was a ripple of laughter. "And she's brought some pals along. Let's have a party, hmm?"

"Fuck!" cried 'Observation.'

"What else?" Yvgeny asked.

"Fat Mamas to port of Augsburg, sir, Sachsen and Schlesien, must be!"

"What the Hell are they bringing them along for?" someone asked.

"Hmm, probably bombarding the coastal batteries at Hango," Yvgeny considered. "Radio! Get me Div HQ!"

"Schleswig-Holstein... and I think there's a fucking Dreadnought with them... Nassau class, it looks like," 'Observation' continued.

"Radio! We've got big trouble, can we make it snappy?" Gorshin yelled.

"Sir, I have Div HQ!"

"Good, message reads, four Battleships, including one Dreadnought, three Light Cruisers and four Destroyers, 20 kilometres South of Hango Point. I want orders."

A few minutes later came the reply.

"Do what you can, sir. That's all!"

"What the Hell kind of order is that? Shit! Ok... here's what we do... we split up into twos and come in from different bearings... split their fire!"

"Sir?"

"The Germans weren't our natural enemies," continued the Admiral, "The Moslem Turk, they were our traditional enemies, not the Germans. I tell you," he pointed his yellowed finger at the Ensign, "I couldn't have given a fuck for the Serbs. They had no gratitude for Russia then and they haven't any now."

"No, sir!"

"The French... they started it... they pushed us to mobilise against Germany. Germany was always going to stand alongside the Habsburg Empire. That meant, with two powers against us, France would feel 'obliged' to declare war against Germany and Austria-Hungary. It was all a conspiracy. My Father thought so and so do I. France paid that Serb to shoot the Arch-Duke Ferdinand, I know this as a fact."

"You do?" asked the Ensign, in wonder.

"Yes. France wanted revenge for the War of 1871. She wanted to take back Alsace and Lorraine. She had a score to settle with Germany and wanted the Ivan to squeeze her from the East. But Tannenburg... tut, tut, Hindenburg demolished Samsonov and Rennenkampf's armies in August 1914 and we never really recovered from that defeat."

"The Navy?"

"We mined the Gulf of Finland, placed shore batteries along the coast, sealed up Kronshtadt nice and tight. I had a flotilla of my own and we fought their light forces trying to penetrate our defences. Every now and then they'd come with units of the High Seas Fleet to bombard our guns."

"... And submarines," he added chuckling, "occasionally they'd try and slip in a U boat and therein lies a tale."

The relatively shallow Gulf of Finland was easy to mine and dangerous for undersea warfare. The Russian minefields were extensive, submarine booms protected the channels, and the whole guarded by shore batteries along the Estonian and Finnish coasts.

U7 was built in 1913 by Blohm und Voss, the Hamburg shipbuilders. Its Koerting, Kerosine/Electric engines were never that reliable and the German Naval Submarine Service soon switched to Diesel/Electric. The Koerting boats were characterised by the dense clouds of white smoke they emitted while running on the surface.

U7 had been among the first to sortie out into the North Sea in August/September 1914. Since then, however, she'd been relegated to the 'less demanding' theatre of the Baltic after the North Sea Flotillas were replaced with Diesel/Electric boats. Their small size seemed to be an advantage in the Gulf of Finland and the Koerting boats soldiered on until replaced by 'UB' Class coastal submarines.

In May 1915, U7 had done well to get so far into the Gulf. Her luck ran out just South of Primorsk, however, among the shifting sands and tiny islands. U7 grounded heavily on a sand bar, her mainshaft was dismounted, transom frames bent and the hull split along a third of her length. Clearly, she was a 'constructive total loss.' The 25 crew were picked up by steam launches the next day.

Yvgeny watched the crew of the U boat being brought ashore at one of Kronshtadt's quays. They were miserable, cold and wet, and some Russian sailors were handing out grey blankets and hot mugs of tea to them. Their Officers had a stiff, studied arrogance about their manner. One of them caught his eye, he thought he recognised the fellow.

"Who's that bearded guy in the white cap?" he asked the launch Captain.

"Their Captain, I believe, sir," he replied.

"Who around here speaks German?" Yvgeny asked.

"That you, Gorshin?" the German Captain asked in Russian.

"Just who the Hell are you?" he demanded of the German.

"Don't you recognise me?" he smiled, "are you still looking after my cousin?"

"What? Is that you, Rolf? What the fuck are you doing with this outfit?"

"I took your advice," he replied, still smiling, "except I went South because I knew my Uncle would be looking East. I stole a draught horse and rode all the way to Germany. I joined the Navy in Elbing... graduated an Officer in 1911... U7 was my first command."

"And ran it onto a sandbar? That's bad luck! What were you fishing for in those waters, crabs?"

"I cannot tell you."

"Dammit, man, the German Navy?"

Rolf shrugged. "It seemed a good idea at the time," he told Yvgeny.

"I met him later," said the Admiral, "when we occupied Latvia in 1940. They had a small Navy and I was sent to Libau to find out what we could incorporate into the Soviet Fleet. Rolf Talsii was a Rear Admiral in charge of the submarines in the Latvian Navy. They had two, the Kalev and the Lembit, British-built... we decided to use them. The NKVD wanted to take Rolf away and shoot him but I insisted I needed him to help us with the technology."

"I see," replied the Ensign, "and was he of any use?"

"Don't know... he escaped... funny. He found himself on a Naval Auxiliary on its way to collect some supplies from Sweden, apparently."

"Admiral, you didn't..."

"Of course I punished the guards. They were exiled to the Black Sea... Poti, I believe."

"Admiral, you..." The Ensign decided to halt the line of questioning.

The Admiral's mansion at Petrodvorets was all but deserted. The senior Gorshin had accepted a posting to the Northern Port of Arkhangel'sk on the White Sea. His Naval staff had all gone North while the domestics had gone East with Yvgeny's Mother, out of danger.

The Gulf of Finland had been closed to shipping, Turkey's entry into the War had closed access to the Mediterranean and Russia's only ice-free Port, Vladivostok, required a three and a half week journey by train across the whole of Russia. The small fishing port of Murmansk, and Arkhangel'sk seemed the only way to maintain regular contact with Russia's allies.

Stavka, Russia's General Staff, authorised the foundation of what was to become the Northern Fleet to protect that route. By late 1915 British Merchant ships had started to arrive at Arkhangel'sk and Royal Navy escort vessels began to use both there and Murmansk.

Katka had refused to be evacuated. The younger Gorshins had three children, now, and all refused to be moved. They remained at the empty mansion with just the children's nanny for assistance.

Where Yvgeny and Katka had explored along the shore, the mudflats were now decorated with barbed wire. In the grounds of the mansion a battery of 155mm guns was dug in. Their crews were billeted in tents and the various outbuildings. Down the coast a little, two massive 260mms in concrete barbettes stood menacingly out towards the Gulf of Finland. They were originally built as spares for the Oslyabya Class Battleships. Clearly they wouldn't be needed for their original purpose as Peresviet, Pobieda and Oslyabya were no-longer in existence.

Yvgeny visited the family between missions. The Russian Light Forces in the Gulf were very active as the German Navy was always testing the Russian defences. U Boats, Cruisers and Destroyers periodically raided, trying to forge a path for their minesweepers to clear the fields. Every now and then German Battleships would hover at the mouth of the Gulf and attack the shore batteries. Katka could hear their bigs guns rumbling, it stilled her breath.

Yvgeny could tell her little about their operations. Sometimes, however, she watched the Strelny flotilla limp back to Kronshtadt. She counted the vessels as they arrived and scanned the Destroyers for signs of damage.

She learnt to spot the signs; a vessel sitting lower in the water, more smoke than usual or pouring from a riddled funnel, black scorch marks on her grey hull or deck. She died a little death until she saw the Strelny, her battle ensign proudly flying and command pennant fluttering from the mainmast, sweep confidantly towards her tender across the estuary.

She saw the signs of stress begin to show on Yvgeny. He was thinner, his eyes a little sunken and he appeared more easily upset. Katka tried to keep family life as normal as possible for him and their children. He began to call her 'his rock', an endearment he repeated many times during their life together.

One summer's day in 1915 she watched the flotilla arrive back and gasped in shock. There were only 5 Destroyers and one, listing and burning, was being towed. The Strelny itself had one funnel missing, was down at the stern, and her afterdeck smoldered. Obviously she'd been hit by a very big shell.

She didn't breathe again until Yvgeny strode up the cobbled path. He knew she knew, she knew he knew what she knew, so they pretended they knew nothing.

She kissed him, he held her a little longer than normal, they forced a smile and walked, arm in arm' into the house to the children. Eventually, she could no-longer keep up the pretence.

"Who's missing?" she asked suddenly.

"Feodorov," he replied, after a pause.

"I'm sorry, my Love."

He shrugged a reply and looked sadly down at the carpet until little Katerina bounced into his lap. He managed a smile for the three year old and played tickling with her for a while. The Nanny arrived and took the child out. When Yvgeny looked at his wife again, he was in tears.

The flotilla had broken up into pairs and spread out across the sea. Almost immediately, German 150mm and 105mm shells began to splash around the Russian Destroyers. German fire discipline was good, the Krupp guns were accurate and their Zeiss rangefinders the best there were.

Their light cruisers stood off while the big 'G' class Destroyers arrowed in towards their rivals. Further out, the old Battleships, Sachsen, Schlesien and Schleswig-Holstein together with the Nassau Class Dreadnought, Rheinland, opened up with their secondary batteries. The Russian Destroyers weaved and dodged between the massive watery plumes.

Lieutenant-Commander Feodorov's Gromky and her mate Bravy, ship names carried on from the heroic Tsushima Destroyers, stood out from the rest of the flotilla. They both hared off after the four-funnelled Augsburg, a familiar 'face' in the Gulf of Finland.