Dedicated to my wonderful wife, who supports my return to writing, encourages my creativity, and understands more than anyone my desire to entertain people.

Chapter 53 - In His Majesty's Service Part 2

It was quiet in Jacot's home in the officers' quarters part of the garrison in Casablanca, one of the few senior officers here other than the General with family for their long term assignment. Despite the risks, Josephine and Armand believed that it would be good education for their eight year old daughter Jeanne to be able to see a different part of the world and learn about new cultures. Jeanne was asleep in her bedroom clutching her favorite doll, while the young couple did in fact quietly have their 'goodbye' intimate moment.

They were nestled together in their afterglow when Armand heard an unexpected, but very recognizable sound that increased in its intensity. He grabbed his wife and rolled her from their bed to the floor, and underneath it as far as they could go, covering her with his body and wrapped a blanket around them. She shrieked, but instantly knew what he was doing and curled up under him, with her eyes shut tight. They'd practiced this, but never expected to have to do it for real. Especially having just made love to each other.

The whistling of three artillery shells grew intense and exploded in the garden, the garrison's drill area, and the dining hall. All of the windows in the house and surrounding buildings blew out, and they were covered in debris. Fortunately Jeanne's bedroom window faced the other direction but they could hear her scream with the deafening booms.

"Sacre bleu, Armand," Josephine in total fear, still buried in his embrace, could barely utter, "What happened?"

Calling her by her pet name, Armand noted, "It was an attack, Jo. We have to leave right now."

They were able to throw on some clothes as they rushed to their daughter's room. Armand snatched Jeanne close to his chest, but noted she was unharmed, and as she continued to scream and cry from the horrible explosions, he grabbed his duffel bag that was already packed from the heavily damaged foyer, and ran for the docks, with Josephine clutching his arm with a few things she could carry.

"That was too close, Armand," Josephine winced, out of breath and attempted to comfort their daughter in their dead run to the French warship, as yet undamaged.

"The next round will be closer once they see where these hit," said Armand seriously.

…

Sleeping lightly in his Captain's chair onboard the French Battle Cruiser "Victoire" he commanded as a part of a Battle Group, not able to really sleep soundly in his quarters in the night before their departure, Admiral D'Arnot heard the sounds of the artillery impacts on the Army side of the French base. He knew immediately that they were being attacked, hit the 'general quarters' klaxon, and yelled through the acoustic piping and used a megaphone to contact the late shift engine room and dock workers to cast off and get underway. Fortunately they had planned to depart the next day and most of the ship's systems and boilers were up and running anyway. He had wanted at least some of the crew to have one last good night of sleep in port, especially those with family on the base. That was obviously not going to happen. The attack precipitated an emergency departure.

Just as quickly as the Jacot's vacated their home, the nearby barracks were emptied instantly of the French Special Forces and the ship's sailors. Most of the men had slept in their uniforms as they ran to the docks. All of them had their duffel bags and back packs prepared for the originally planned sunrise departure, and so they just snatched them and ran. The bulk of the Special Forces team's equipment and weapons were already on the warship.

The soldiers heard the next round of incoming shells that had been corrected for windage and other aiming errors. Jeanne shrieked as she saw her house and room explode behind them, sobbing and burying her head into her father's neck. Jeanne clutched her doll tightly. Other than the nightgown she wore, the toy was the only thing she now possessed, and other than the security of her dad's embrace, the doll was her only grip on sanity.

Armand's family and his men ran across the docks and up the Victoire's gangplanks, which was already free from its moorings and ready to go.

"Full reverse! Hard turn to port 90 degrees, then full flank speed ahead," D'Arnot shouted as he snatched the helm from the inexperienced and stunned seaman assigned the duty, who was frozen in place. The young man never experienced the violence of an attack before.

The big battle Cruiser was not designed to maneuver in such close quarters, but Philippe was an expert helmsman and got the behemoth headed out of the channel and out to sea expertly. The young helmsman's mate stood in awe of the old Admiral's navigational skills.

Philippe could see the training of shells taking out everything in the garrison. He could see people left behind fleeing for any kind of shelter. The shelling took out the docks next. It would have taken the ship too. This was no random Zaian insurgent flare up, despite it being made to look like one. This was an expertly planned attack, and there was only one nation who would want to do this.

There would be a lot of casualties in the morning. But this expedition would be long gone and there was no time to mourn. They would not know for days who survived and who did not.

The German artillery officer, disguised as a Zaian dissident, looked through binoculars examining the destruction on the base and smiled. He did see the Cruiser had escaped, but he knew the operation was not over. The man said with satisfaction, "Our work is done here. It's up to the Navy to finish the job."

The gunnery sergeant was apprehensive, "Sir, are you sure they won't pin it on us?"

"All the propaganda and media will blame the Zaians."

"Zaians don't have heavy artillery, sir."

The officer shrugged and said confidently, "It just so happens that the newspaper today will report that a 'Zaian cell' ambushed a French Army unit and confiscated a whole battery of French cannons and made an unprovoked attack on the French base in revenge. It's all plausible."

"It's brilliant, Korvettenkapitan."

"Tell the General, Sergeant. I need a promotion. Moroccan women are too expensive on my salary."

The two soldiers had a good laugh, but returned to more serious matters.

The artillery commander noted, "They'll never make it to Dahomey. There's already a 'surprise' for them in the bay. And even if they do make it a few days down the coast our people will be ready for them."

"How do you know that we'll destroy them? And especially how do you know they're going to Dahomey?" questioned the Sergeant.

The Korvettenkapitan said confidently, "We captured a French soldier on the 'inside' who cracked during interrogation a few weeks ago who knew a little about some kind of clandestine operation there, and there have been some very strange transmissions from Nigeria. Such a waste of youth that he didn't know more. We don't know a lot, but we know enough. And about what happens? Well, Sergeant, let me just say this. No one in the world has a weapon that lurks the waters of the Atlantic like we do. They'll disappear without a trace. Just like the others. The Navy needs a test against a combatant. The ship that just escaped will do fine. So we solve two problems at the same time."

"You scare me, sir."

With a wicked smile, the officer said, "You should be afraid of me. Without people like me we'll lose the coming war. It's only a matter of months now. Stick with me soldier, and you might just live through the whole thing."

…

Slicing through the glassy smooth ocean, Philippe was feeling better about their situation. All the Special Forces were aboard, with most of their equipment, and all unharmed. The mission would have to go on. And it was vitally important. Jacot's family was terribly shaken but was safely aboard too. That was even more important. The Admiral let the devastated family have his quarters temporarily. He shook his head at the terrible way a girl had learned about the horrors of war by watching her own home be destroyed. Only her doll was salvaged, and she soothed herself by cuddling it as her mother Josephine rocked her in her arms. She hadn't said a word since the attack, and the look of complete fear filled her young hazel eyes, a match to her father's eyes. It was a striking contrast to her otherwise maternal Greek-Italian heritage coloration of dark olive skin and shiny, long, straight black hair.

The calm waters of the Atlantic churned in the wake behind the Victoire fleeing at flank speed. He could see the shimmering reflection of the crescent moon in the water. He looked aft and saw the flames of the carnage of the French Navy port at Casablanca. The third round of artillery took out much of the rest of the docks and some berthed ships that were part of his Battle Group. And unfortunately some of the dock workers and naval base sailors with the explosions. The General's quarters seemed to be unharmed. He noted that the French forces were shooting back against the emplaced 'Zaian' artillery, but imagined the Germans had fled into the night, and wondered which poor local bastards would be sacrificed to give clues that the Zaian insurrectionists had performed the attack. He was sure the Zaians were being blamed already and not the real perpetrators of this military action.

Turning the helm over to the night watch, Philippe peered out from windows next to the Captain's chair on the bridge, knowing this wasn't over yet. He had a bad feeling he couldn't shake. The Germans were too well prepared and too well armed to actually let them escape into the night. Philippe knew something was still afoot. He peered harder into the waters of the Atlantic and saw a dark shape. A familiar dark shape.

He yelled through the ship's acoustic pipes, "Weapons, fire forward 10 degrees to port. Target range 1500 yards. Fire when ready."

The water around them exploded in concussions from shells fired from the German Destroyer that was bearing down on them from off the bow. But thanks to Philippe's intuition, they were ready. D'Arnot was determined not to miss or it would be a deadly chase down the African Atlantic coast. The bigger, older, slower Cruiser would lose to the more modern German Destroyer if it was permitted to come about.

The well prepared crew swung the front gun turret forward, slightly to port as he ordered, and leveled the guns at the range D'Arnot had estimated.

The French ship rocked with the discharge of its enormous shells. Below decks in the Admiral's quarters, Jeanne screamed again, not knowing what was going on. Her mother tried again to comfort her. Even Armand looked nervous. He heard and felt the concussion of the German ship's volley and near miss.

The French shells flew true. Explosions erupted all over the single Destroyer that evaded being detected for weeks off the Moroccan coast, having learned of some kind of operation being launched from here by the tortured French Army captive.

By the time the Cruiser steamed over the Destroyer's debris field, D'Arnot could see only the stacks and the mast of the dead ship with its German Navy battle flag disappear into the dark waters of the Atlantic at night. There appeared to be no survivors. This was clearly a secret operation to preempt the French Special Forces' operation from starting. The Germans would disavow anything happened for fear of retaliation. The war would not begin on this failed interdiction. D'Arnot worried how much more the Germans knew of the coded telegraphic messages between him and Tarzan.

The Admiral prayed there would be no more resistance as they headed a flank speed to Dahomey with the special forces aboard, and two unexpected passengers. It appeared to be quiet, and there were no more pursuers. D'Arnot permitted himself a thought that with a bit of luck, they might be in Dahomey and Nigeria in less than a month.

Unfortunately, this close to the start of the war, having any luck was a scarce commodity.

…

The Victoire was making good progress down the western coast of Africa a couple of weeks since it departed Casablanca, and nearly able to make the turn eastward toward Nigeria, and unfortunately Togoland. It was still very tense aboard the ship, and young Jeanne, despite all the kindness shown by everyone on the warship, was still shaken and withdrawn. She often had nightmares, but seemed to be fitfully asleep late in the night. The ship was illuminated by a very bright full moon in a cloudless sky. It made Philippe nervous, and he had a bad feeling. It was warranted.

About a mile to the starboard of the Cruiser, what we would know now as a periscope pierced the water, but could not be seen by the French sailor scanning the seas with binoculars atop the speeding ship.

The observer called his leader to the periscope, "Mein Kapitan, I have something. Is that the ship that escaped Casablanca?"

The German Captain took the periscope from the sailor, "Yes it is. Good job, sailor."

The Captain grabbed the acoustic intercom line, and shouted forward, "Load the torpedoes. Helm, bring us about 45 degrees starboard."

"Aye, Kapitan."

Like a macabre ballet, several sailors and a junior officer unsecured two torpedoes, and loaded the two forward tubes of their pride of the German fleet – the first of a new class of secret weapon, the Unterseeboot, a ship that could operate under the oceans and carried a lethal cargo of underwater weapons called torpedoes. The submersible ship would soon be very well know to sailors of every world navy as the "U-boat" - garnering both respect and fear.

The weapons room report was terse, "Torpedoes loaded and ready at your command sir."

"All right then, men. Let's see what the best of the French Navy thinks of our Unterseeboot. This is our last trial. It worked on helpless cargo ships. The Admiralty needs a test against a real warship."

The U boat's First Officer sneered, "Won't this be a nasty surprise to interrupt their evening glass of wine."

Ignoring the First Officer's attempt at gallows humor, the Captain yelled, "Launch torpedoes!"

With precise movements, the weapons officer and sailors moved levers, spun wheels, and slid bolts. The torpedo tubes on the submarine filled with water, the outer doors opened with a clanking sound that could be heard all over the submerged boat, and they were shoved out of the U boat and into the water. The sailors could all hear the whir of the high-speed electric motors of the torpedoes as they sped away from the hidden vessel.

From the top of the crow's nest on the French Cruiser, a sailor saw the twin frothy wakes in the water.

"What the hell is that?" the watchman said to himself, but quickly yelled into the sound tube connecting him to the bridge, "Sir, two objects in the water, approaching the starboard. Fast!"

Armed sailors on the deck opened fire on the speeding objects but they were too fast.

The helmsman tried to turn the Victoire 90 degrees to port, trying to the change the angle of the ship to avoid the speeding objects. It was too little and too late. Both torpedoes exploded against the ship's hull. Two huge explosions rocked the ship from bow to stern, and water and flames surged high above the highest part of the ship. Huge holes were ripped in the metal warship, and water gushed in, with shrapnel shredding and drowning crewmen instantly. The ship lurched and every piece of metal groaned.

Philippe was literally knocked out of his bunk. He rushed to the deck and saw the awful damage. He knew they would sink if they didn't do something fast. He also guessed that whoever attacked them would take no prisoners if they were stranded in the water. He had to try. They weren't that far offshore.

"Engine room. Give me everything you have. Run the ship aground ashore. Flank speed. Try to seal the damage down there."

"Aye Admiral."

The great ship was limping and vulnerable, but the U boat could not get another round of torpedoes loaded and launched to send the combatant to the ocean bottom as it had done to three cargo ships. Something was wrong with the launch tubes on the U boat and they jammed.

The German submersible's Captain cursed, but ordered, "If they get ashore, surface and man the deck guns. Finish them off. We can afford no witnesses. We cannot start the war here today."

"Aye, Kapitan."

The great warship listed terribly, but they ran aground only a few yards from shore. The twisting and bending of metal against the rocks and sand beach created a terrible sound, and most of its hull and deck plates popped and leaked. D'Arnot heard a more ominous sound. The piping around the steam boilers had ruptured and the boilers would soon blow up.

Philippe shouted with all his might from the bridge and into all the acoustic intercom pipes, "Evacuate the ship. All hands! Now!"

It was harder said than done, with some men trapped in compartments or injured or burnt from the torpedo attack.

Nonetheless, because of their training, the sailors and the Special Forces evacuated the battleship with rappelling ropes and nets, along with some of the injured, to the nearby shore. Jacot got his family to shore safely in one of the few lifeboats that D'Arnot prepared for their escape. Much of the soldiers' equipment was still on board the doomed ship. Everyone fell on the sandy beach exhausted. But there was no respite in this attack. They all saw the gun flashes from offshore on the deck of the strange shape of the dark black from the U boat that had surfaced and opened fire on them, and they heard the whistling of the incoming artillery rounds. The Frenchmen only saw the outline of the strange combatant against the full moonlight.

D'Arnot, a student of marine architecture, looked in amazement and muttered, "Damn. It's true! The Germans have an undersea warship."

The shells were coming quickly as a second deck gun got into operation.

"Everyone into the jungle. Now!" D'Arnot yelled.

The first shell blew a huge geyser in the water near the dead Cruiser, but the rest were hitting and hammering the hulk of the Cruiser.

Jacot complained over the explosions, "But Philippe, most of our supplies and equipment…!"

"I am not letting you back into that deathtrap. Do your men have their rifles?" Philippe gritted through his teeth.

"The ones that survived, yes sir," Jacot said sadly, estimating that only two-thirds of his men survived with barely half of their equipment and heavy weapons. Many were in the area that took the first torpedo, including the portable Wireless radiotelegraph operator.

Philippe ordered Armand, "Then if you don't want fewer men, get them all into the jungle. And your family."

D'Arnot was devastated he could not help any remaining sailors and Special Forces troops, but knew it was fruitless. The survivors quickly retreated into the jungle, which had its own set of dangers. Jeanne and her mother were nearly in total shock in yet another nearly fatal attack, but obeyed the commands of Armand and the Admiral.

"When will this end, Armand?" she said desperately while running, once again cradling a terrified Jeanne against her bosom.

"I do not know, my love. Only prayers can save us now," sighed Armand, completely out of options in this continuing series of surprises.

Too many of the ship's crew lay dead or trapped below decks from the torpedo attack, and the U boat deck gun was destroying what was left of the Cruiser. D'Arnot knew anyone still left behind was doomed. Behind the relative safety of the jungle tree line away from the sand dunes, he heard the boilers finally explode, taking what was left of the crew with them. He offered a prayer to them and their families and cursed his unpreparedness against a very determined enemy, having a distinct advantage with previously unknown, advanced weapons. He hoped to live long enough to get this vital information to the French forces. So far the odds were not promising of that happening.

Deep in the jungle, the far too small group of sailors and soldiers and the tiny family huddled, dripping wet from the ocean escape and sweat from running through the hot, humid jungle even in the middle of the night. They formed a perimeter of defense against any German sailors who might come ashore to finish them off. Fortunately, that final attack, which would be fought hand to hand, never happened. D'Arnot reluctantly had the men start a fire for warmth from the shock and to dry out. And to keep the wild animals at bay, which were just as deadly as any German sailor. D'Arnot and Jacot took stock of their meager forces, but gave thanks they survived.

Out of earshot to the family and crew, Armand seethed with anger, "Philippe, could anything have gone more wrong?"

"Well yes, but we wouldn't be here to talk about it," conceded the Admiral.

The Army Colonel sighed, and looked at his sleeping family and men, "Yes, yes. I suppose you are right. What are we going to do?"

Philippe tried to sound confident, "We have to still fight. I just hope the war hasn't started tonight."

"How? We have lost so many men and so much equipment."

"My sailors can augment your losses, and some of the British defense force in Nigeria can help us too. They aren't Special Forces but they can learn. We will trek through the jungle until we get to Nigeria. We are not stopping in Dahomey. We must regroup before the attack on Togoland. We still have a few maps, a few compasses, star charts, and frankly we made good progress. We're more than halfway there and in French territory again. Somewhere in Senegal. Perhaps we can get to Dakar and get word to Tarzan and the British before we progress on."

Armand was desperate, "I agree. But now we need your jungle Count even more. And we can't even tell him it will be months now, not weeks. God help us, Philippe. I brought my family into this."

Jeanne was curled up into a fetal ball in her mother's arms.

Armand continued, "I am not sure how much she can take of this. Wars were not designed with children in mind."

Philippe tried to reassure the younger officer, "Better for her to be able to live another day than to be dead with her mother in Casablanca."

"You are always right, my friend," the younger man tried to smile.

Philippe said, "One thing is certain. We have to get Josephine and Jeanne to Count Clayton's lands for safety so we can get into the fight and win. It's about time Lady Luck shines on us, not the Germans."

"Or die trying," said the Colonel glumly.

...

Author's notes: We had a long history lesson the last chapter that was needed to immerse our characters in real history of the events leading up to WW1, the situation in colonial Africa, and their fictional part of it. This secret battle in Casablanca is fiction, but placed in the context of the history of the time. The U boat, perhaps Germany's most devastating weapon of both WW1 and WW2, is introduced here. These stealthy weapons nearly turned the tide of battle by sinking thousands of tons of shipping in the Atlantic until the US got into WW1 in 1917. Oh. The name of the Cruiser Victoire? In 1766 there was a French warship that was the "Languedoc" but was briefly renamed "Victoire", but the ship is really named for you Assassins Creed fans (my kids play it all the time) - it was a 1735 French sailing warship commanded by Assassin Adewale! hahaha.