Chapter Thirty Three: Lord Nelson's Legacy
Colin Creevey slept in his hammock, dead to the world. His had been a hectic two weeks.
When he arrived, he found himself in a strange office. The office of the chief of Naval Intelligence. The man in charge, Captain Smollett, immediately took hold of Harry (and Hedwig) and escorted him from the room.
Robert saluted Captain Grissom. "I can find my way, Sir."
Grissom stopped him. "Lieutenant, visit your home first. It may be your only chance for quite some time."
Robert saluted again, and left.
"Captain Grissom," a Naval Commander said as he entered the room with his aide. "If you will come with me." He paused to look at Colin. "Lieutenant Creevey, Lieutenant LeClerc will show you to temporary quarters."
Colin followed the older Lieutenant from the building and down the street. "Will this be your first ship?" he was asked and Colin nodded.
"I've been doing class work mostly."
LeClerc smiled. "I remember my days as a cadet, young and eager. I fear your education will advance more quickly now. Did they tell you anything?"
"Only that classes were canceled for the duration." Colin noted that they were walking a fair distance. "Where are we going?"
"There is a hotel on the next street. We will be housing you there, with other officers, until we are ready. Spies are everywhere and we do not wish to tip our hand too soon by bringing all of you to the barracks. We are not supposed to know anything yet."
Colin understood. He was not to say anything about why he was here. He was a cadet heading for his first ship and enjoying a day or two in London before he left for Dover.
Colin was ushered into the hotel and registered. He was given a room key and directions and was left on his own. He grinned in spite of himself. He was in London without supervision. He was also without luggage or money. He went to his room for lack of any better ideas. It was occupied.
"I knew it was too good to last," a tall red haired boy said. He could have been Ron Weasley's twin brother, a fraternal twin of course. He bowed politely. "Colm Gilhooley."
"Colin Creevey."
Colm looked surprised. "No chest?"
Colin shrugged. "I was told to report at once. I did and they sent me straight here."
"They'll do right by you," Colm told him. "Are you hungry? I was heading to the hotel restaurant for dinner."
Colin shrugged again. "I don't have any money either."
"Neither do I. But you don't need money. You're active now. Give them you service number and they'll seek credit from the Navy."
Colin sighed with relief. "I was afraid I'd starve to death."
As Colm walked Colin to the restaurant, he asked, "Do you know anyone in London or are you a stray like me?"
Colin paused. "I don't want to drop names."
"Please do," Colm encouraged.
"I know the Marquis of London. I was going to school with his brothers."
Colm stopped in his tracks. "You were taking classes with the Somersets? It will be hard to top that for name dropping. Where were you stationed?"
"Um, Captain Grissom told me not to say."
"Grim Peter? Colin, you have come close to topping yourself. Was he your teacher?"
Colin nodded. "He says I'm going to be his aide 'as soon as matters are settled'."
Colm put his hand on Colin's shoulder. "Colin, while we are in London I want to be your best friend."
Colin smiled. "And I want to be yours. You know something about Captain Grissom that I don't. He doesn't talk about himself."
"You've read about the Bristol, of course."
"Not really. All the books the Captain gave me were general histories, or tactical books."
"We'll start there," Colm said. "The Bristol was his first commission. He wore his sword for the first time on that ship."
"Then he was there, in '39."
Colm nodded his head. They entered the restaurant and settled into a booth. After they ordered, Colm told his new friend the story of the Bristol.
The Lord High Admiral glared fiercely at Grissom. "This is not a joke, Peter. This is all too real. Lord Henry's pet bird may, and I say may, save us from a serious catastrophe in the Eastern Mediterranean Theatre."
"Val, I can not take a serious command. I have been sitting on my laurels too long."
"You can and you will. You can adapt to any situation quickly. It is your greatest talent. And it is exactly the skill we need at this moment." The Admiral paused, then said in a lower voice, "You have never disobeyed an order in your life. And as your superior I order you to accept this commission." The Lord High Admiral held out a roll of paper with His August Majesty's seal attached.
Reluctantly, Peter took the parchment.
"What is my status?"
"We have three Dreadnaughts heading for Dover, and one at the docks. We can supply you with a handful of frigates but not much. If we are right, we have less than a week."
Grissom listened as he was briefed. Constantinople's request for a show of force was, most likely, a feint. They expected the Mediterranean fleet to be attacked and hoped that a warning could be delivered in time. As it was, they had to write off the entire fleet until they heard otherwise. Grissom had four Dreadnaughts to take to the Mediterranean to thwart any plans of the combined Byzantine and Caliphate fleets in those waters. Those fleets were expected to head out toward the Atlantic as soon as their hand was played at Constantinople Other ships were being patched together to make an Atlantic fleet until ships that could be spared elsewhere could be recalled. That, however, could take months.
Peter Grissom thought about all the Naval strategies that he had read, and he had an advantage. He had two worlds to draw on. He remembered how an England, bereft of its union with France had handled the situation.
"We abandon the Mediterranean," Grissom said firmly.
"I beg your pardon?" the Admiral asked.
Grissom walked to the map of the world that covered one wall of the Admiral's office. "This is the place I want my fleet. This is where we must build a port." He was pointing to Gibralter.
"Peter, what are you getting at?"
"It is simplicity itself, Val. With four Dreadnaughts I can hold the Straits of Gibralter from any foe, but they must stay there. We need a port. The free port at Gibralter Rock can be enlarged quickly enough to keep our ships supplied. For the present all we need to do is hold the straights and keep open our supply lines to that point. We can expand our defenses as our situation improves."
Peter de Valera ap Smith was impressed. "And that would make the Mediterranean the largest lake in the world. Our coastal defenses should be strong enough for the present." He asked conspiratorially, "did you get that idea from the other world."
Peter smiled. "Do you remember that quote I told you? 'Those who do not know history are condemned to repeat its mistakes.' Well, if you know history, you can also repeat its successes." He then added casually, "could you spare some Two Thousand Marines?"
"And a ship to carry them."
Colin looked out as the coach approached the house of Lord London. He had dared risking to ask to visit with a friend, and the response was the arrival of the coach and an invitation to supper. Colm was amazed and delighted at the pull his roommate seemed to have. He was only slightly disappointed that Colin was warmly greeted by Gwilliam, the stableman's son, than by the Lord himself.
"Colin, welcome back to London. And welcome to you, Sir. I'll take you in if you like."
Colm followed Colin and Gwilliam to the back of the house. Again, he was upset not to have entered the front door, but then neither he nor Colin were nobility. Still, he was being let inside the Marquis's house. To his surprise, they were led to the stables instead.
"Harry," Colin called out with almost no etiquette, surprising his new friend at his familiarity. "Are you staying in London?"
Harry grinned as he rubbed down his horse. "Naval Intelligence. I have the important task of delivering messages. And You?"
"Don't know. Harry, this is Colm. I met him at the hotel. He's waiting, same as me."
"Lord Somerset, it is a pleasure."
"Please, Colm, call me Harry. Then I will not have to embarrass Colin by asking your last name."
"I forgot it, anyway," Colin said with an infectious grin.
Colm was quickly made at ease by Harry's manner. He didn't act like a lord, but more like a fellow officer off duty, which is what they all were. When Harry was finished, he led them to the house with a warning that Lord London was at home.
"Is Lord London a cantankerous person?" Colm asked.
"Only when he has not had his nap," Harry answered.
"I am too old for naps," an eight-year-old boy said from the stairwell.
"Lieutenant Gilhooley," Harry said with a grin, "May I introduce my younger brother, The Marquis of London."
"Welcome to my house, Lieutenant," Lord London said warmly. "I understand that we have the pleasure of your company for dinner. Please tell me you are a better conversationalist than my brother." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and said, "Colin, will you sit next to me when we eat. I have all sorts of questions for you."
"I'd love to," Colin replied and was immediately dragged off by Lord London.
Harry saw the confused look on Colm's face. "My brother likes Colin because they are the same size." Colm smiled at the thought and Harry added, "To be honest with you, Colin is more a big brother to him than I am."
"It seems that way, but why, if I may ask?"
"Do you know my history, Colm?"
"Everyone does, to a degree."
"I first knew my brother as Lord London. We are close but . . . there is always that barrier. And it may seem odd but Colin does not understand nobility. He sees it as something one has to do. Colin looks at my brother and sees an almost nine-year-old boy who is called My Lord." Harry let out a wistful sigh. "That is why he is closer to London than I am. He can look past the title."
"But you are not jealous," Colm noted.
"Of Colin? How can you be jealous of him?"
Colm hesitated. "I was jealous of him because he had you as a friend."
"And you are wrong," Harry replied, "I have him as a friend."
"My Lord," Colm asked when Harry led him to the dining room. "You said you were stationed at Naval Intelligence. Do you know what is going on?"
"Truthfully," Harry answered, "No. All I get to do is deliver the messages. I do not write them. And I may not read them. But I expect the worst."
"As do we all."
Colin Creevey said nothing that night, or ever, about the conversation that he overheard. But he always remembered Harry's words.
Colin awoke in the morning to find Colm reading a letter he had opened. Colm heard him stir and pointed to an unopened letter. Colin's orders.
"I'm going to Dover," Colin said in a slightly confused voice. "The noon train. I'm to report to the Admiral's Flagship?"
"I've drawn the same lot, Colin. We can travel together."
"But I was supposed to serve under Captain Grissom."
"If that is true," Colm said calmly, "Then it can only mean one thing. Admiral Grissom."
"Would they make him an Admiral?"
"They have tried before." Colm exhaled heavily. "And if they did, this IS a serious situation."
Colm was right. The two of them boarded a military train that went directly to the dockyards at Dover. They, and hundreds of other officers and seamen stepped off the train and headed for their respective ships. Colm was the lucky one. As soon as they reached the Admiral's flagship, HRMS York, he gave his name to the dockmaster and was immediately assigned fifth mate. Colin gave his name and was told to stand on the foredeck and await orders. He waited three hours.
"Mister Creevey," the familiar voice called, and Colin looked up to see Vice Admiral Grissom standing behind him.
Colin saluted. "A question, Sir. Shouldn't you have been made a Commodore first?"
"Yes, and then a Rear Admiral, Mister Creevey. You are correct. Do you know why?"
Colin frowned. It was Grissom's habit to turn any question Colin (or anyone else) asked into a learning experience. "It's because I'm an officer, Sir," Colin said after a minute.
The officers standing around the Admiral snickered, until Grissom answered. "Correct, Mister Creevey, but I would have given a less cryptic answer."
"Admiral," the ship's captain asked. "I must admit that I do not understand the answer."
Grissom turned to Colin. "Mister Creevey, answer the man."
"Sir," Colin said, "I am an officer. As a sub-lieutenant I am the lowest ranking officer possible, but I am still an officer. In the event that no other officer can command, I must do so and I must have the authority to do so. That is why I am an officer."
"You have your basics down," the captain commended. "And the Admiral."
"The Admiral was made Vice Admiral. That is a jump of three levels of rank. There must be a reason. The easiest explanation is that he is to be in command. As all combined fleets must have an Admiral, it is necessary to give the Vice Admiral a rank that will permit him to keep command should he meet another fleet. It's actually the reverse of my situation."
Colin smiled at the polite applause the officers gave him. Then, Colin was unintentionally given a chance to amaze the officers.
"Now for your duties, Mr. Creevey," Grissom said with an impish grin. "You need to learn this ship backward and forward and there is not much time, so find the, um, fifth mate and ask him what his name is, then report back to me."
"Colm Gilhooley, Sir," Colin said with a grin that would have made an idiot proud.
"And I never saw him leave," one of the Lieutenants commented.
"We roomed together while waiting for our orders, Sir," Colin explained.
Grissom did not miss a beat. "Then find the sixth mate, and report to me in my cabin. Captain's mess is in forty-five minutes. I suggest you hurry."
Colin was proud of the fact that he made his report forty-two minutes later.
Colin ran though the ship every day. After the first day, he ran barefoot because his boots hurt too much. He went to his hammock tired every night, but he did learn the ship and the names of all the officers and midshipmen. And because of his position, he was present at all briefings. As a result, he had the clearest picture of what the immediate situation was. He knew all about the dangers to the Mediterranean fleet, while all Harry knew at that point was that his owl had returned with a message from Admiral Ashton.
At this same moment in time, Harry was sitting in his chair waiting to take a folder somewhere, and Colin was standing behind Admiral Grissom as he explained his plan to the Captains of all five Greatships in his fleet. To rub it in, Harry was still wondering what happened to Colin.
"This is my plan. We know that the enemy is heading toward the straights but they are not thinking of stopping there. That, however, is exactly where we stop."
"A blockade?" the Captain of the Calais asked in surprise.
"Exactly. Until we have the strength to maneuver in this area, we will, as the Lord High Admiral stated, make the Mediterranean the largest lake in the world. But we have to get there, and get there first." He unfolded a large map of the area. "If we do, the York will escort the Exeter to the free port of Gibralter. She will assist in the assault and capture of the port, then proceed to patrol the surrounding area until contact is made with the enemy fleet, which will be of an unknown size. The Calais, the Caen and the Ville de Paris will patrol the waters during the York's actions and report upon sighting the enemy. That is the best we can hope for."
"Admiral," Captain Dubois pointed out, "The Ville de Paris is the best ship in its class, and I do not brag. Should we not be the ones to participate in such an action."
"No," Admiral Grissom said clearly. "The port of Gibralter is for the long term. If events go badly, that part of the plan can be delayed or abandoned. The enemy fleet is the main problem. I want our best there when we make first contact."
Dubois smiled in understanding. "I should have asked instead what the worst scenario is."
Grissom returned the smile. "When we left Dover, the worst scenario was that they were already in the Atlantic. Tomorrow we will reach the Straits. The worst scenario is now that we will run into them in the dark. Captain Dubois, at dawn you will lead the Caen and the Calais through the Straights and begin your search. We will escort the Exeter, and if you make contact, we will cover her retreat. In case any of you are unaware, the Exeter was taken out of drydock without her guns having been repaired. She is here only as a transport for the assault forces."
"Sir," Captain Leslie interrupted. "As you know, we have a great number of skilled engineers on board the Exeter with nothing to do. I gave them the guns as a project." Leslie smiled with pride at his next statement. "We had to cannibalize the aft guns, but I can give you all forward guns, and four on the forward starboard. The larboard guns show promise but I think we have run out of time if it comes to a fight."
"Duly noted, Captain," Grissom said with satisfaction.
"Do you know where we are, Mister Creevey?" Grissom said as he watched Captain Dubois lead his ships ahead in the early dawn. "Think of that book you gave me for Christmas."
"Is that Cape Trafalgar, Sir?"
"It is. I shall admit that I almost wished to meet the enemy here. That would have been a good omen. Instead, we will have to make our own history. Would you find the Commodore and invite him to my cabin for breakfast?"
Colin saluted and went on his first run of the day.
Grissom's ship had passed through the Straights of Gibralter when he saw the smoke from the Caen. It was his first indication that the fleet was near. As the ships neared and began their turns, the captains again met on board the flagship.
"How much time do we have?" was Grissom's first question.
"We caught them by surprise," Dubois explained. "Their sails were still running with the Dreadnaughts. We have at least a full hour but I would not hope for two. We damaged one Dreadnaught when it went ahead of the fleet. We took damage during our turn, but we did have some amusement. I ordered my midship guns to fire into the sails, to shake them." Dubois paused as Captain Gill of the Caen grinned. "But some fool Lieutenant on the Caen thought of it first."
"I would like to know that Lieutenant's name, Captain Gill," Grissom said casually.
"You do know him, Sir. It was Somerset. He was supposed to fill the position until we could get someone capable."
"I should have known," Grissom said without expression. "I did train him myself."
Amidst the laughter, Colin was surprised. They were talking about Robert.
"Permanent Damage?" Grissom asked.
"Only the Caen," Dubois stated.
"One aft gun lost, another disabled," Gill responded.
"Captain, how does one lose a mounted Seventy- Five pounder?"
"It was Somerset, Sir." Everyone was grinning.
Captain Leslie quipped, "It was probably something he picked up on his own."
Colin fell to laughing with everyone else. He would have something to talk about when they went back to school. Colin stopped laughing immediately. He just realized he was never going back.
"Leslie, are you up for battle? We will line you up so you can favour your starboard."
"Well up, Sir."
"Very Well. Gentlemen, we will form as a wolf pack. I believe you know the formation. The rules are simple. When you are close enough to the enemy, fire your guns without hesitation."
"Here, here," the Captains responded.
"And Gentlemen," Grissom said in a serious tone. "Do not withdraw. Do not surrender. These five ships are all the Empire has at this time and this place. If we can not win here then we must make this a Pyrrhic victory for them. We have no choice. We must stand fast. The only other option is to let the Empire fall."
Colin watched as the Captains returned to their ships. The enemy had just been sighted on the horizon, but even at high speed they were still an hour away. It was almost enough time to finish preparations. Colin turned when he noticed movement behind and above him. The pennants were being raised. The young boy smiled as he read the message. It was not original.
"That's it," Colin said to himself as he suddenly understood something. Admiral Grissom was not an original thinker. He did not come up with brilliant, innovative ideas. But he could copy an idea. Nelson was England's greatest hero in his time. Grissom could not be a Nelson, but he could mimic him. Grissom could act as Nelson would, and in this he did. His every action was not designed to bring about a decisive engagement. There were too many things that could go wrong. But Grissom would do everything to bring out the best in the men under him. That included stealing someone else's words and claiming them as your own.
Holding the far right of the formation was the Caen. "Can you make that out, Lieutenant?" the gunner's mate asked. The crew quieted to hear Robert who was staring through his lensed scope.
"The Empire expects that every man will do his duty."
Robert did not know the origin of those words but it would not have changed the way he felt. He looked down from his scope and glanced at the faces around him. They shared his expression. They shared his pride.
Colin Creevey stood near the Admiral as Grissom observed the approaching enemy ships. They would not form a line. That tactic was obsolete. The HRMS Bristol proved what one dreadnaught could do against an entire fleet by fighting each ship one at a time. The approved method now was to try to engage an enemy ship by either coming broadside at her before she could turn, or dividing her attention with a dual attack with a companion ship. Traditionally, both fleets would swerve to one side or the other, pressing for advantage, a series of maneuvers that could take place over miles of open water and last for most of the day before a decisive shot was fired.
Grissom's plan was simple and dangerous. They would sail through the enemy fleet, targeting the enemy guns as they passed, but particularly the aft guns and the stern of the ship. (If the aft guns were silenced and, by good fortune, the rudders or possibly the engines damaged, even a dreadnaught was helpless from behind.) Once through, the dreadnaughts would harry the sails, the frigates and brigantines that often accompanied the fleet to make possible smaller actions. Upon completing the turn, weather and light permitting, the fleet would attempt to force the surrender of any disabled ship and drive off any of the others. The men on all ships knew what to do, had known all along that this was the likely maneuver, and were ready.
Colin took a deep breath as one of the Byzantine ships fired a forward gun to find the range. After days of sailing, and hours of getting into place, the battle was beginning. The next half hour would tell them if it was enough.
No one ever asked the Byzantine Admiral what he thought. It became obvious in a short time that he did not expect such a brazen move. And it was that simple fact which lost him the engagement. The ships passed each other in a matter of minutes, both sides firing hotly. But surprise and luck where on the side of the Empire, luck made by two thousand and more men all trying their best.
Admiral Grissom and Admiral Nelson shared this in common. Their men worked together and trained together. Most seaman served all their years aboard one ship. And unlike other navies His Majesty's Officers, in either world, came from the ranks. Every Captain had served as a midshipman and a Lieutenant, while in the other navies, commanding officers often achieved their ranks because of whom they knew instead of what they knew. That was the luck that these men brought to bear.
The Ville de Paris proved that its reputation was earned when she disabled the rear guns on both ships she passed between. Her aft guns disabled the rudder of one ship and blew a hole below the waterline. The Exeter, with the least guns, passed on the outside of the enemy fleet. It had little hope of doing serious damage, but the enemy could not know that. It passed with little damage but also did little damage in turn. The York and the Calais between them disabled a third ship but the aft guns could still fire. Both came under heavy fire, however, and suffered for it. They had enough energy left to shell the frigates, driving them away.
The Caen did not make the run. It started but came directly under two pair of guns. An early shell pieced her armour and started a fire below decks that could not be contained. Robert would later tell Colin all that he knew.
Robert felt the shudder and guessed what it was. Shouting was heard and he noticed the ship turn to starboard as though to intercept the enemy Dreadnaught. Then the runner appeared.
"The Captain's compliments, Lieutenant. Abandon your post and prepare to board the enemy on the starboard at your earliest convenience."
Robert did not hesitate. As the runner fled to the next station, he shouted his orders. Men grabbed anything they could use as a weapon and followed their officer. All of them knew what it meant to abandon your post. Their ship would sink, but if they took the other ship, they would live. Robert led them quickly to midship, where they had to wait only briefly.
The two ships touched, grating against each other as the men of the Caen jumped briskly whenever they saw a chance. Robert made a rolling jump and came up on his feet, amazed that he did so, but he would not tell Colin that. In Colin's version it would come out as "I landed on my feet, of course, and proceeded to lead my men against the enemy guns."
The third Lieutenant appeared suddenly and ordered Robert to organize his men, and to take the nearest guns at all cost. He then disappeared in the opposite direction leading his own group.
With half of his original crew, Robert rushed to the attack and subdued the starboard midship guns. Fighting was fierce at the first but the Greeks began shouting to each other and quickly surrendered. Robert followed their gaze and saw a wonderful sight. At the pinnacle the colours had been dropped and in its place waved the Lions and the Lilies.
As though knowing it was no longer needed, The Caen exploded.
"Oh my God," the Commodore said when he heard the explosion. He turned and tried to see through the smoke, his scope to his eye.
"What do you make it to be?" Grissom asked.
"It appears to be the Caen, Sir. I think it was the magazine exploding." The wind pushed the smoke away briefly. "She's gone, Sir, but . . . " The Commodore began to laugh. "Sir, the far Byzantine ship. The one that is slowing. You can make out her colours."
Grissom took the scope and looked. "I would call that a fair trade."
Colin was running. His message was for all guns, which meant he would be running the full length of the ship and back. It would not be the first time. He fell as a shell hit the side of the ship, blowing up part of the deck in front of him. Without thinking, Colin raised to his feet and proceeded on his way. He had cleared the immediate area of damage when he saw the body. It was the fifth Lieutenant.
Colin looked down briefly and the Lieutenant looked up without seeing him. He was clearly in shock and losing blood from a shrapnel wound in the thigh, almost to the point of severing the leg. Colin knelt down and reached into the wound, using his hands to clamp the severed artery.
"Fifth Mate," Colin called when he saw his friend standing there, frozen in surprise.
Colm Gilhooley shook off his stare and looked blankly at Colin.
"A Tourniquet, Colm. Now."
A seaman appeared, grabbed a length of rope and ran to help. By this time, Colm was moving again, and was able to help secure the rope around his superior's leg. As the tourniquet was tightened, Colin asked, "This is your first time?" and Colm nodded.
"I froze, Colin."
"So did I, my first time." Colin grinned at his friend, and noticed the seaman's scowl soften.
"I'll be fine next time," Colm answered. "I promise."
"And I'll pray there won't be a next time," Colin looked at the seaman, old enough to be his father, "for any of us."
"Amen," the seaman whispered. "She's tight now, Sir. You can let go."
Colin nodded and found the gunner's mate and relayed his message. He then ran to finish his duty. When he returned to the foredeck, the Admiral was gone, and Colin was too tired to look for him. He sat down on the deck and waited.
Two hours later, a bucket of water was dumped onto the sleeping boy. "Mister Creevey, we are fighting a war, if you don't mind."
"My apologies, Captain."
"Try calling me Admiral."
Colin opened his eyes after he brushed away the last of the water, and stood up. He noticed the Admiral and the shipboard chirurgeon. "I'm not injured, Sir. It was one of the Lieutenants."
"Stand still," the chirugeon said as he took another bucket and splashed Colin's face with some of the water. He stopped Colin from raising his hand to wipe his face and ordered the boy to wash his hands first. That was when Colin noticed they were still smeared with blood.
"Clean yourself," Grissom ordered, "and prepare yourself with a clean uniform." He looked down at Colin's bare feet. "And do wear your boots this time."
It was a parlay under flag of truce. Grissom had the upper hand and he knew it. Of the Roumeleian fleet, two ships were disabled, two was damaged, one was captured and only one was still in battle form. On the other hand, the captured ship was firmly under control. If further combat ensued, the Byzantines would lose.
Admiral Grissom made a generous offer to release all prisoners and to permit the crews of the prize and the disabled ships to be evacuated. The Byzantine Admiral had little choice but to accept. Those two ships would have to be towed, and they could not be towed under fire.
The frigates sailed up and the arduous process of transfer began the following morning. By midday, the enemy fleet had ignominiously departed. Safe for the moment, the two prizes were towed toward Gibralter while the Ville de Paris and the Exeter prepared the way. Port Gibralter, as it was officially renamed, was under control by the time the York arrived, and exhausted Marines and engineers were still working to make a temporary dock for the dreadnaughts.
Sub-Lieutenant Colin Creevey was given the chance to go ashore but used his time to gain much needed rest. It had been two weeks to the day when he had heard the call to the Great Hall, and for the first time he did not have to worry about tomorrow.
Admiral Grissom was not as fortunate. He had to spend most of his night going over the details. He knew he had won a victory but at great cost. Only the York and the Ville de Paris were battle ready. The Caen, and a third of its crew had been lost. Most of the survivors had made it to the new ship, renamed the Caen by its captors. She had surprisingly little damage but she also had a skeleton crew. The Exeter and the Calais had plenty of men but both had been hit too hard to not need immediate repairs. The two captured dreadnaughts were useless, and would be for months until they could be repaired and refitted. He would have to send them to Dover.
Two ships, Grissom thought, three if he moved men to the new Caen, to hold the straights. And the worst was that the Byzantines still had a dozen Dreadnaughts somewhere in the east. Also, the Turkic Mediterranean fleet had not yet appeared, and their Atlantic Fleet had a free hand.
