Tea at Sea

The convoy was two days out of Alexandria, with supplies for unconquered Malta. So far the only enemy had been the choppy Mediterranean waves, making life miserable for the correspondents on one of Rear Admiral Philip L. Vian’s light cruisers. Then, at dusk of the second day, birds of death appeared in the sky. Five swastikaed transport planes and a Messerschmitt flew overhead, winging from the Libyan front to German bases in Crete. They had sighted the convoy, and the British knew that the next dawn would bring enemy planes and warships.

Four torpedo planes came first. Heavy fire and Italian caution kept the planes well away, too high and too far for good aiming. Then came bombers, some high and some diving on the five light cruisers, the destroyers and the supply ships in the British convoy. Unscathed, the convoy pushed on toward Malta.

At 2:25 p.m. one of the cruisers reported to Admiral Vian’s flagship: “Four suspicious vessels to the starboard.” The A.P.’s Preston Grover raised his field glasses, saw the Italian fleet on the horizon. Said he to the Chicago Daily News’s Richard Mowrer: “Well, it’s been nice knowing you.” Mowrer’s throat was too dry for reply; he nodded, and admired a British captain calmly ramming tobacco into his pipe.

The Italians had at least one 35,000-ton battleship (probably the Littorio), with 15-in. guns; the Trento and the Trieste, heavy cruisers with 8-in. guns; three or four light, 6-in.-gun cruisers of the Condottieri class, and a destroyer screen. None of the British light cruisers could match the Trento or Trieste, much less the battleship. Admiral Vian invoked the tactics which dogged the Graf Spee to suicide in 1939. His light force laid down an intricate smokescreen, then peppered and confused the heavier enemy with darting attacks and withdrawals.

Ahead of, behind, to the side of the British ships great geysers rose in the sea. They were misses from the 15-in. Italian guns; any one of the shells could have demolished a British ship. Not one was a hit. One of the cruisers dashed out of the smoke and for ten minutes defied the Italian battleship. The Italians came within 10,000 yards of the British—for the 15-in. guns, easy range. Still the wretched Italian gunnery spared the British.

At 4:20 p.m. the battle let up—for British tea. One man from each battle station went to the galleys, returned with steaming pots and cups. A.P.’s Grover noted: “It is hard for Americans to understand . . . but a Briton with a spot of tea under his belt is a better fighting man.”

After a proper tea, the cruisers again sortied out of the smoke. Ahead of one cruiser loomed the battleship, a bare 6,000 yards away. Its forward turrets were a solid, orange wall of flame. The British gunners knew that their shells could do no more than annoy the battleship. But they fired away. A British destroyer careened out of the smokescreen. The captain was certain that he holed the battleship with a torpedo. Another destroyer captain believed that he got a second hit. The battle ship did not sink, but it had had enough. At dusk, after five hours of combat, the Italians gave up.

The Italians claimed that they sank a British cruiser, damaged 19 ships in all. Berlin said that German dive-bombers had sunk three merchant ships and damaged three others. Correspondents Grover and Mowrer confirmed the British reports that one supply ship was sunk, that a cruiser and three destroyers were hit but made port. Able Admiral Vian had earned the thanks of Winston Churchill, the praise of his captains. Said one of them: “Our Admiral has fought one of the most brilliant actions against greatly superior forces ever successfully brought off.”