Attack On The Iron Coast Page #3

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and will put in at Le Clair.

If we destroy the docks,

one of Germany's largest battleships

will be helpless.

An open target.

Did you hear that rumor, Freddie?

No, but that doesn't mean it's not true.

Yes.

Yes, I suppose so.

I want this operation.

I want it badly.

But without the commander-

There is an officer, sir.

One of the best I've served under.

Would you accept going in

without a senior naval officer?

Admiral, I won't accept it!

The Major can go in with his own men,

but I'm damned if he'll command mine!

Captain, I want this operation.

Have you established rendezvous?

Yes, sir.

Our ETD is 1700 hours Portsmouth.

On Wednesday.

Very good.

I think that's all, Michael, isn't it?

I think so, sir.

The party's yours, Captain.

Good luck.

Is that an order, sir?

That's an order.

Say when.

When.

I'd never have done it without your help.

I sure thank you, Don.

No need to thank me, Jamie.

Well, they've given you the green light,

but God knows what

you're letting yourself in for.

I hope you meant what you said.

Yes, I meant it.

Jamie, I'm sorry about Franklin,

but there was no other way.

All I want is for him to do his job.

He'll do it.

When did he last see action?

A man like him

never loses his sea legs.

I hope to God you're right.

You'll get well again.

All in good time.

Who knows?

Maybe they've given me a break.

Be lucky, Jamie.

Yes. Thank you.

- Port ten.

- Port ten, sir.

Ten degrees, port wheel on, sir.

- Midships.

- Midships, sir.

- Steady as she goes.

- Aye-aye, sir.

Captain, if it's a few more

revolutions you're wanting-

Skipper, she's doing just fine.

Bless her old heart.

It's just like a mill pond out there.

The weather boys' predictions

were right on the nose.

Well, there'll be

no seasickness on this trip.

Don't be so optimistic, Major.

A steady swell,

cramped conditions below,

and the thought of the job ahead-

some of your men

are bound to throw up.

And it won't be any better

on those launches either.

No. Not if we have to crawl along

at this speed.

Major, we are not crawling.

Our speed's governed

by the load in the bows

and the launches' ability

to keep station with us.

You mean they'll have to play

follow the leader all the way across?

They're neither equipped

with wireless nor radar.

They're depending on us

for protection and accurate navigation.

And if we're intercepted, what then?

Major, let's get something straight

at the outset.

You have your responsibilities,

and I have mine,

which happen to include the safety

of those launches.

Well, Jamie, here we go again.

The way things were going, I thought

we were making this trip in a dinghy.

How are they below?

Complaining.

Puking.

They'll get over the puking.

Everything all right?

For a vessel sailing to her own funeral,

I'd say she's bearing up mighty well.

Don't worry, sir.

We'll get you there all right.

Truce, Captain?

I am not at war with you, Major.

This ship is blacked out.

What kind of a sailor are you?

I'm a scared sailor, sir.

You'll be a lot more scared

after you've been court-martialed.

I'll decide about that.

He could've blown this whole mission.

- Get back to your station.

- Yes, sir.

That man should be disciplined.

That man's a naval rating.

He's my responsibility.

Then assume it.

Radar to bridge.

Radar to bridge.

Contact, sir.

Contact, Red 3-0.

Hold it and keep reporting.

Red 3-0.

Aircraft closing fast.

- Course?

- 3-4-0.

Action stations,

gun crews close up.

Signal disperse to the launches.

Hold fire unless attacked.

Lookout, aircraft coming up

fine on port bow. Identify.

- Course?

- 1-7-6, sir.

- Port ten.

- Port ten, sir.

- Steer, 0-9-0.

- 0-9-0, sir.

- You'll meet her head-on, sir.

- That's the idea.

Steady as she goes.

Aye-aye, sir.

Steady as she goes.

Can't you do a zigzag?

She's too heavy in the bow, sir.

Gun crews, hold fire until ordered.

All guns independent, open fire.

A life on the ocean waves.

Home on the rolling deep.

Anybody want my dinner,

just hold out your canteen.

Cease fire. Cease fire.

All stations keep closed up.

Chief reports no damage, sir.

- Casualties?

- Every gun's crew, sir.

Their pride's been hurt.

He got away.

Tell them not to worry about their pride,

and signal close up, keep station.

Aye-aye, sir.

Well done.

Normal naval procedure.

When are we getting back on course?

When I damn well say so.

As long as you realize we're losing time.

Losing time is better than losing a ship.

That plane has reported

our position and course,

and I don't want Jerry to know

we're heading directly for Le Clair.

Any more questions?

And Major...

that cigarette incident

had nothing to do with the attack.

The plane was 30 miles away

at the time.

And that man wasn't a day over 16.

You sent for me, sir.

- What's your name?

- Pringle, sir.

Ordinary Seaman Thomas Pringle.

How old are you, Pringle?

Nineteen, sir.

Sixteen.

How long in the service?

Six months, sir.

And at sea?

Three weeks.

I'm sorry, sir, about the cigarette.

I don't know what come over me,

if you know what I mean, sir.

I know.

I just didn't stop to think, sir.

Nor did I.

Between the two of us, I lost my head.

But maybe that's because

I didn't want you to lose yours.

Thank you, sir.

Pringle.

Sir?

I can't take a thing like that, sir.

Take it.

Just come in, Herr Oberst.

Hans, is this important?

Nothing is more important

than the ladies.

"From K2C to Le Clair BHQ.

Immediate.

"Coastal air patrol report

enemy minesweeper and escort

"intercepted at Red 4-7-1,

course due east.

Attacked.

Negative result. "

Minesweepers, huh?

What do you think, Erich?

Where is it now?

Red 4-7-1.

Contacts like that every day.

They sweep east up to Red 400,

and then always turn back.

Routine.

Just routine.

Nothing from our surface patrols?

Nothing, Herr Oberst.

The harbor approaches

are well covered.

If our ships get a sighting,

you'll hear about it.

Keep me informed, Hans, will you?

The English are predictable,

but they're not stupid.

Jerry must've been alerted by now.

It's strange we don't get another visit.

The RAF has some

heavy bombing raids planned.

The Luftwaffe might well be too busy

to worry about a minesweeper.

They know darn well

we're not sweeping.

On the contrary.

We've had sweepers visit this area

a number of times

during the past few weeks.

Sowing minefields?

Yes. But that's not the point.

The idea was to let Jerry think

that we were sweeping regularly,

so that Mad Dog would look

like a continuation of the routine.

It was a subterfuge

that may well play off.

Who dreamed that one up?

Their Lordships readily agreed

to the value of the idea.

Did you put it to them?

It was a suggestion.

...on the earnings

of a lady friend I know

Don't want bullets in my basket...

Hark ye to the serenade

of brutal and licentious soldiery.

How do we go, pilot?

Most excellently, sir.

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