This is
another illustrative extract from Signal!, Captain Barrie Kent’s history
of signalling in the Royal Navy. It is about the latter part of the Battle of
the North Cape in December 1943 when Scharnhorst was sunk. I’ll quote
from the book and then make two points: will you guess what they are?
‘At
1723 Fraser (CinC Home (HMS Duke of York) signalled to Burnett (FO 10th Cruiser
Squadron (HMS Belfast)): “Steer south to get between enemy and his base”. Duke
of York continued firing as the range increased but at about 1830 it became
apparent that Scharnhorst's speed had been reduced - she had been hit and a
broken steam pipe temporarily reduced her speed to ten knots. This enabled the
four destroyers – HMS Savage, HMS Scorpion, HMS Saumarez and the Norwegian HNoMS
Stord - to close in and attack her with torpedoes.
In
the RCO things had risen to a crescendo:
“One
had no time to think of the enemy's shells which could be heard whistling
overhead and exploding with sharp cracks. Our own broadsides became less
noticeable, as did the rough sea. Quick decisions had to be made, but with a
backlog of coding and decoding in the small RCO, when an urgent signal for CS10
was handed in from the plot
I
ordered it to be made in plain language as it could not help the enemy even if
he read it. Having broken the ice, we used P/L from time to time when
appropriate.”
No
one actually saw the Scharnhorst sink - she just disappeared from radar
screens. When destroyers reported picking up survivors, Courage (Fleet Signal
Officer) was at last able to originate the signal: “Admiralty from C-in-C:
Scharnhorst Sunk – 262100”. Dawnay (Fleet Wireless Officer) remembered:
“I
had great difficulty in getting the signal through and eventually got Iceland
to take it – just two groups of Fleet Code. Then came a busy hour of
signalling, clearing up the mess and giving instructions what to do and where
to go. By this time the Duke of York was steaming by herself at high speed for
the Kola Inlet: with U-Boats about, she had been hanging around for quite long
enough. Having transmitted the last orders I reimposed silence on MF, and
comparative peace reigned once more.”
But
the problems faced by Courage and Dawnay were not over.
“A
situation dreaded by all signal officers arose: Admiral Fraser wished to talk
to Admiral Burnett on the R/T. Neither had received any training whatever in
how so use this method of communication.”
Unable
to persuade the C-in-C to desist Dawney embarked on a lesson:
“First
Sir, you press this thing when you wish to speak: when you have finished, you
say ‘Over’ and release it, and listen to Admiral Burnett. Finally, you must use
callsigns or you will make it too easy for the Germans. Yours, Sir, is WIGLEY,
and Admiral Burnett's is REMBRANDT.” Then the trouble started. "WIGLEY?
Who gave me this ridiculous name? You?"
Meanwhile
Admiral Burnett was happily in ignorance of the fact that he was about to be
summoned to the microphone, nor did he have the benefit of instruction from the
Fleet Wireless Officer.
Courage
again:
“In
Duke of York we heard only one side of the conversation, which went like this: ‘Bob,
is that you? Bob, can you hear me?’ (‘Say “Over” and release the handle’ from
Dawnay). ‘Bob, are you clutching your thing? I'll send you Jamaica. I'm off to
Russia, follow me when you can’ (‘Out!’ from Dawnay). It may have done more
good than harm - it was clear that even “very senior officers” must be property
trained in this double-edged means of rapid communication. It also made us all
laugh.”'
First of
all, I admire the fact that it was the Fleet Signal Officer who took the
decision to send a message en clair whether or not its content meant
that it would be expected to be encoded before being sent. There was a
permanent tension between signallers of all services and the Comsec ‘authority’
in GC&CS: the former wanted to be able to send signals as quickly as
possible; the latter was insistent that maintaining security came before all
other considerations. Here is an obvious example of when sending en clair
will make no difference whatsoever. If the security organisation can’t make a
system that makes sending a classified message as (relatively) straightforward
as sending an unclassified message, then it should be a problem for the
security organisation, not the signaller. As described above, the signaller had
enough problems finding a way of getting the signal to the Admiralty in London,
eventually finding an RN Comcen in Iceland which could relay the message.
Second is a
naval equivalent to what many soldiers would say was the greatest threat to
safety possible: an officer with a map! How about two Admirals with
push-to-talk radios and no idea how to use the equipment, never mind how to
pass secure information via that medium? The pragmatism of the signallers, the
pretty certain guess that the Kriegsmarine would have other things to do
rather than have its signallers search for insecure RN communications, the
prudent decision (again) that there was unlikely to be any real security
implication if the message was sent, and finally the opportunity to give
everyone in the Comcen the chance for a bit of an after-action laugh (‘Bob, are
you clutching your thing?’ - ooh err, Missus!) all suggest that the signallers on HMS Duke of York
would eventually go off watch on a high.
