Night Sky (9 page)

‘That’s not the point,’ Hans persisted. ‘You are officially Jewish. You have your scientific status –
at present
– but you are not safe where you are. Why don’t you think about working in this place?’ He indicated the complex of stone buildings that made up the research establishment.

David stood still, astonished. ‘Here? Why?’

‘Haven’t you heard? The Navy is refusing to throw Jews out of the service. Old Raeder is defying Hitler. As a naval scientist you would be safe. Hitler will never take on the whole Navy: he’s too frightened of it.’

David walked on slowly, shaking his head. Hans meant well, there was no doubt about that, but come and work here? No, it was impossible. Very little original work was done in the establishment. He would die of frustration.

The two men joined the rest of the scientific and naval personnel standing silently in a knot by the rail.

David stroked down his windswept hair and watched the group which was making its way up the gangway. He recognised the well-known figure of Grand Admiral Raeder, Commander-in-Chief of the German Navy, but he was not certain about the others. He was no expert on rank or uniforms, but he guessed there were at least five other admirals in the group. Behind the Grand Admiral was Schmidt, looking as officious and self-satisfied as ever. David sighed inwardly. How simple life would be if the Schmidts of this world were not allowed to poke their noses into the
real
work. The problem with Schmidt was that he was not overblessed with brains. He had never been a good scientist, let alone a great one. Perhaps that was why he had grabbed an administrative job: it was the only thing he could do.

David stood back as Schmidt started to introduce the managers of the Gema Company to the naval officers. David thought how strange official protocol was, when the organisers came before the people who actually did the work. Still, as long as he was allowed to get on with his project, he didn’t really mind who took the glory.

When it was David’s turn to come forward he tried to concentrate on the name and rank of each man as he shook hands with him but, apart from Raeder, he managed to memorise only about half of them. After the introductions one name – Doenitz – stood out in his mind and he tried to think why. Then he remembered: it had just been announced that Doenitz was to command the new submarine arm of the Kriegsmarine.

U-boats: now there were vessels in need of a really small high-definition apparatus. If the opportunity arose it would be interesting to talk to Doenitz. David looked at the rings of Doenitz’s sleeve to make sure that his rank was indeed no higher than that of captain. There was a chance, then, that David would be allowed to talk to him without Schmidt interrupting. Schmidt did not like anybody talking to really senior officers without him being present. He said it was a matter of protecting his scientists from outside interference, but David knew better. Schmidt just hated anything going on without his knowledge, particularly when a scientist had views which differed from his own.

The main group had moved off towards the bridge. Schmidt was pointing to the bowl apparatus and explaining the reason for its shape, which differed considerably from that of the earlier prototypes. As Schmidt’s voice droned on David felt the deck vibrate beneath his feet and saw that the
Welle
was beginning to move gently away from the wharf. The wind was coming in great gusts now; the sea outside must be very rough.

David began to wish he hadn’t come. He’d always disliked physical discomfort – as a child he’d been hopeless at sport and rough games – and he had no doubt the
Welle
would toss and roll like a pig.

Schmidt’s voice had ceased and everyone moved into the large chart room behind the wheelhouse. David followed and looked for a quiet corner to stand in, but Schmidt impatiently beckoned him forward and directed him to join some junior officers on the outside of the group. The group had formed a circle round a large metal cabinet bolted to the chart room floor. On the top of the cabinet was a circular screen which the senior officers were watching expectantly.

Schmidt cleared his throat and announced, ‘It will take us a few moments to get to the open sea, where the device can best be demonstrated. We beg your indulgence, but we assure you that the wait will not be in vain. You will not be disappointed!’

David felt faintly embarrassed at Schmidt’s manner. He was making it like a circus performance. The brass were intelligent men; they didn’t go in for dramatics.

Suddenly there was a quiet voice at David’s elbow. ‘We have not met. My name is Fischer, Karl Fischer.’ David turned to see a young officer with his hand outstretched.

‘Ah, I’m Freymann, David Freymann.’ He shook the hand, then said by way of explanation, ‘I work on this project. My field is radio ranging.’

Fischer nodded. ‘Well, it will be most interesting to see this device working. I had no idea anything like this was being developed. It is really most extraordinary.’

David smiled politely. ‘And yourself, are you on the naval staff?’

‘No, no.’ Fischer shook his head, and David noticed how even and finely drawn were the younger man’s features. The hair was blond, the eyes pale-blue: he supposed this was what the Nazis meant by Aryan. Then he thought: Why on earth did I think that? I’m getting as bad as Hans.

Fischer was saying, ‘I have come here with Captain Doenitz. I’m with the First U-boat Flotilla at Kiel, in command of U-13.’

‘Ah.’ David did not know much about the new submarine arm.

‘It is the first operational flotilla. It is a great honour to serve in it.’

‘Indeed, indeed. It is wonderful that Germany has submarines again, after all these years.’

Fischer looked at the device humming quietly in the centre of the chart room. ‘And this, will it be useful for submarines?’

‘Well, at present – in this form – no. As you see the whole thing is too large. Really it is only suitable for use on ships – or on land, of course. It would never fit into submarines or, for that matter, aircraft.’

‘I see, I see.’ Fischer frowned in concentration. ‘And what about being
detected
by such a thing. Could an enemy detect
us
easily? I am thinking particularly of when we are on the surface at night.’

David looked at Fischer with new respect. Here at least was someone who recognised the possibility of an enemy possessing this device, which was more than Schmidt did. He said, ‘Well, yes, a surfaced submarine
could
be picked up. But it would be difficult. A submarine is so low in the water – and so much smaller than a ship, of course – that the conditions would have to be perfect for an enemy to see you. I mean, a calm sea and the range between three and five miles. But even if a ship did manage to detect you I imagine there would be plenty of time to dive and get away. A plane … now a plane would be a bit more tricky.

If a plane managed to detect you it could be on top of you very quickly.’

‘I thought you said it was impossible to construct a device small enough to fit in a plane.’

David shook his head. ‘Ah, no. What I said was,
this
device is not suitable for planes. I did not say it was impossible to develop small devices. Quite the opposite.’

Fischer nodded slowly. ‘After the demonstration, could we talk again? I know that Captain Doenitz would be most interested in what you have to say.’

‘Of course.’ David was pleased. It would be an honour to talk to Doenitz.

The
Welle
had begun to pitch gently and David realised they must have reached the open sea. He looked out through one of the chart room’s large ports and saw rolling, white-topped waves. He tried to concentrate on the horizon: someone had told him it stopped you from feeling sick.

Schmidt was speaking again. ‘As you know we have been working hard on the development of the DT device. Incidentally, I shall continue to call it by its cover name, the DT Apparatus, because secrecy is so important. Originally you may have heard it called the revolving turret device, but more properly it should be called a radio detection and ranging device, or radar for short.’ He cleared his throat and paused. Ever theatrical, David thought. Well, perhaps it was justified. It was, after all, a special occasion.

‘When we last demonstrated the device, we could not give you great range accuracy. And of course it is not much good if you don’t know how far away your opponent is. But now …’ Schmidt put a hand on the metal cabinet. ‘I am glad to say that, by means of a revolutionary new concept, we can give you the range of your enemy to within about a quarter of a nautical mile.’

Schmidt’s audience was silent and expectant. For a moment there was no sound except the hum of the device and the vibration of the ship’s engines. Then the chief scientist continued, ‘We have developed a
pulse
system which sends out a short but powerful radio signal in a single burst. It then waits for the signal to return before sending another. By measuring the time it takes for the signal to get to its target and return, we can measure range with a good degree of accuracy.’

Schmidt raised his voice. ‘Furthermore, gentlemen, that range is now improved. You will be able to see land approximately ten miles away, other ships eight miles away, and aircraft as much as fifteen miles away.’

He stepped to one side. ‘And now, gentlemen, I invite you to look at the screen, to see for yourselves.’

Admiral Raeder and the senior officers stepped forward and leant over the screen. Schmidt pointed to a piece of coast visible on the port side and then put his finger on to the screen. Comparisons were made and there was a great deal of nodding; the brass were obviously impressed. David felt pleased. Schmidt then ordered the aerial to be rotated and the group examined the echo of a ship which was just visible on the horizon. Raeder summoned more of his colleagues and Schmidt began his explanations afresh.

David was feeling sick. The trick of staring at the horizon had not worked at all. The
Welle
seemed to be rolling and pitching in every direction and each new movement took his stomach by surprise. He edged towards the door in case he had to make a sudden dash for the rail. He realised he should try to be unobtrusive, but he was fast getting to the stage where he didn’t care.

Suddenly the sickness welled up. David pulled open the door and heaved over the rail. As soon as his stomach was empty he felt better. The fresh wind helped too; it seemed to blow the cobwebs out of his head. He concentrated on the horizon again. This time the trick seemed to work and the nausea passed. But he decided against going back into the chart room; he wouldn’t last five minutes in there.

After a while he became mesmerised by the rise and fall of the waves. At one point he looked down to where the waves growled along the ship’s side. But that was a mistake – it brought the nausea back – and he quickly looked up again. Then he tried closing his eyes and found that, despite the sharp wind, he was able to doze where he stood. The sensation was quite pleasant: he felt as if he were floating, gently suspended in water.

‘Ahem.’ Someone was clearing his throat. For a moment David hoped the sound might go away, but it was repeated. Reluctantly he opened his eyes and turned round.

It was Fischer. Beside him stood the tall, erect figure of Captain Doenitz.

Fischer said, ‘Herr Freymann, may I introduce Captain Doenitz? The Captain would be most grateful if you would answer a few of his queries.’

David tried to wake himself up. He smiled thinly and said, ‘Of course.’

The captain was frowning in concentration. He had a sharp face with thin lips and protruding ears. But most of all David noticed his eyes, which were small and penetrating, like those of a small animal.

Doenitz spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. ‘I have grasped the principles of the DT device. I understand how it can be used against aircraft and surface vessels
by
surface vessels. But I gather this device will never be suitable for submarines. Is that correct?’

David made an effort to concentrate. ‘In its present form, no. It is too large and cumbersome.’

‘Can it be made smaller?’

‘It is possible, but it means using shorter wavelengths.’

‘And this can be done?’

David nodded. ‘Work on slightly shorter wavelengths is to start soon, I believe.’

‘Slightly—?’

David sighed and looked down. What was he to do? Tell the truth and suffer Schmidt’s wrath, or toe the official line?

He brought his eyes back to Doenitz’s face. The captain’s expression was enquiring but anxious. The answer was obviously important to him.

David thought: Why not? This man deserves to know.

He said, ‘Yes, only
slightly
shorter. Investigation into really short wavelengths is not being considered at present. There is a belief that such short wavelengths are impossible to generate – and that they would be
less
efficient rather than
more
efficient. But …’ David said firmly, ‘this is only a belief. It is by no means proved.’

Doenitz was trying to absorb the information. ‘But if it
was
possible,’ he said slowly, ‘it would be useful for us?’

‘Not just useful, it would be
revolutionary
!’ David talked rapidly, his sickness forgotten. ‘You see, first, short waves would make the device very small indeed. It would be no more than the size of – of say a large suitcase standing on its end. Obviously it would fit easily inside a plane or a submarine. That would mean – well, you can imagine! For the Luftwaffe, it would mean they would be able to see enemy planes coming from miles away, even at night. For you, it would mean you could find your enemy and make your attack in the blackest of conditions!’

David always liked to understand the practical applications of his work. So few scientists did, and that, he believed, was a great mistake. It meant you were much slower to appreciate the shortcomings of your inventions – and slower, too, to
foresee
problems.

David paused before going on. So far he had stated facts that were generally accepted – although Schmidt would have a seizure if he knew David had mentioned them. But it was the next part – the most
important
part – that was really David’s personal theory. And not only was the theory unproved, but Schmidt was bitterly opposed to it.