North Strike by John Harris

Author:John Harris [Harris, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: North Strike
ISBN: 9780755127771
Publisher: House of Stratus
Published: 2013-06-11T04:00:00+00:00

Four

The word flew round the ship and they all cheered as the destroyers passed them. Magnusson was standing towards the entrance to the fjord, waiting for the transports bringing troops and the big-gun ships of the back-up force, but as the destroyers slipped away astern it dawned on him there were no troopships, and no back-up force. He began to wonder what the five destroyers could hope to achieve against ten Germans, all bigger than they were, and came to the conclusion that Oulu would probably be safer outside the fjord and in the lee of the Lofotens.

The destroyers were disappearing into the mist and Oulu was gathering speed as the breeze filled her sails. Then as they made their way along the coast he realised that Annie Egge had appeared alongside him, frowning.

‘Where are the others?’ she demanded. ‘The transports full of soldiers and guns. They cannot capture Narvik with five destroyers.’

He didn’t reply, pretending to be occupied with the business of the ship. The destroyers had vanished and as Annie moved in front of him, her eyes angry, doggedly determined to get an answer, they saw a white flash of flame light up the curling vapour astern and a moment later heard the crash of an explosion.

The roar was followed by another, and as the mist turned scarlet they knew that in Narvik ship after ship was being hit. Gunfire was rolling round the narrow confines of the fjord, echoing and re-echoing down to where Oulu sped along close to the shore. Silhouetted against the distant trees they could make out anchored ships and faint shapes moving swiftly in front of them that they guessed were the British warships.

‘Whatever they’re up to, they seem to be making a good job of it,’ Campbell said excitedly, his eyes alight. ‘That’s the Navy in action – the real Navy!’

Oulu continued to pick up speed, the water hissing along the side of the ship as she leaned to the wind. The gunfire still rolled behind them from the direction of the town and every now and again Magnusson saw the mist leap, as though the atmosphere had emptied and filled again as the shells exploded.

Willie John clambered out of the hold, his hang-dog face grinning. ‘They’re comin’ out, boy,’ he yelled. ‘They’ve finished! They’ve just made “I am withdrawin’ westwards.”’

As they swung south-west towards the Lofotens, they were losing a little wind so that Magnusson edged to starboard in the hope of picking it up again to carry them clear into the open sea where they could use their radio to call for help. With Willie John’s transmitter blasting out its appeal, he felt the destroyers couldn’t fail to escort them to safety.

Turning to watch for the British ships returning, he was still congratulating himself that their luck had changed when he heard a shout from forward and saw a merchant ship heading straight towards them. She was only two hundred yards away, bursting through the mist that swirled about her blunt bow.

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