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.
