• U.S.

AT SEA: Daring at Dakar

4 minute read
TIME

The bowler hat, black jacket, sponge-bag pants and white spats, which he wore as a broker in London’s “City” until a few months ago, were far away and forgotten by 6 ft. 3 in. Robert H. Bristowe as he cruised south along the west coast of Africa one night last week in a special service detachment of His Majesty’s Royal Navy. Broker Bristowe, a nautical-minded man since boyhood, retired from the Navy five years ago but now, ranked Lieut. Commander, he was back, and in the hot night off France’s colony of Senegal, there was desperate work to do.

A British heavy cruiser and the aircraft carrier Hermes were ordered to immobilize, by persuasion or force, the one remaining capital ship of France’s Navy not already knocked out or taken over by Britain. Mightiest Frenchman of them all, the brand-new, 35,000-ton Battleship Richelieu, mounting eight 15-inch guns and a bristling mass of lesser armament, lay somewhat ahead in the tropic darkness, inside a net-boom in the harbor of Dakar. Smaller French warships lay there, too, to protect her, and all were well warned of an impending attack. For the Richelieu’s commander had been signaled and had refused surrender terms similar to those offered Vice Admiral Gensoul for his squadron at Oran last fortnight. As the deadline approached in the small hours, the flag officer of the British detachment designated Broker Bristowe to lead an attack.

With a volunteer crew, Bristowe entered a twin-motored ship’s launch. Starting far offshore, it purred in quietly to the steel harbor net, which it passed over safely. Through the thick darkness Commander Bristowe felt his way undetected to the looming bulk of the Richelieu, and around under her stern. There to damage the giant’s propellers and steering gear, his men put overboard a batch of depth charges so powerful that, when they went off, the harbor-heaving concussion knocked dead both of Bristowe’s launch motors. As French shouts, searchlights and anti-aircraft fire filled the thinning night, the launch wallowed helplessly. Just as a French patrol boat spotted her, one engine responded to good round British cursing and the raiders started out of the harbor.

With no time to spare, Hero Bristowe and crew reached and repassed the barrage net, which luckily enmeshed their pursuers. Dawn broke in time for them to see the Richelieu’s grand finale. Seaplanes from the Hermes came skimming in and loosed five long-snouted sea torpedoes. Titanic explosions shook the ocean and the mighty Richelieu settled by the stern in shallow water, surrounded by a vast pool of oil. Destroyed was one more threat to Britain’s sea rule, and into R. N.’s log went an exploit to rank with that of U. S. Captain Richmond Pearson Hobson, who in 1898 scuttled a blockship in Santiago Bay, Cuba, under the guns of Spain’s bottled-up fleet.

With France’s eight capital ships accounted for, leaving only the unfinished Jean Bart at large (supposedly at Casablanca with several French cruisers, destroyers and submarines), R. N. continued cauterizing French warships all over the world. Under the guns of Fort-de-France and Negro Point at Martinique in the West Indies still lay the aircraft carrier Beam, the mine-laying cruiser Emile Bertain, two light cruisers, four destroyers and a patrol ship. At Guadeloupe, just north, lay the training cruiser Jeanne d’Arc. British cruisers prowled so near, defying the French to run for home, that jittery Martinique complained it was blockaded. U. S. warships in the Virgin Islands kept steam up for a dash to maintain the sanctity of President Franklin Roosevelt’s “Neutral Zone.” Without hindrance from the British, two U. S. steamers laden with food entered Martinique.

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