The Campbelltown
Its 1941, Europe has fallen under the brutish boot heel of Nazi tyranny. People are disappearing off the streets, Wehrmacht armies patrol the countryside, Kriegmarine ships terrorize the Atlantic and prevent the Allies from building up the strength to fight back.
In the frigid seas near Norway, the Germans had a ship the likes of which the world had never seen. Twice the length of any Allied battleship, triple the firepower, every bit as fast. Armor too thick for anything in the British fleet to pierce, at least on their own. The Bismarck threatened everything on the British coast, putting the island in serious danger of seaborne invasion and falling victim to the same fate as France and Poland.
In the face of this monstrous war machine just across the Channel, Allied command activates the Special Operations Executive, or the Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare.
A collection of lunatics, anyone and everyone with a bone to pick with the Nazis. Their mission to to make the Nazi occupiers’ lives a living hell. Make continued operations within western Europe impossible. But before the fight back be taken back to Europe itself, the Bismarck had to be made vulnerable enough to kill.
In northern Norway was the St Nazaire shipyard, the only facility large enough to maintain the Bismarck’s colossal size. Take it out of action, eliminate the only place the Bismarck could limp back to for repairs if the navy managed to damage it. St Nazaire’s destruction was the key to keeping Great Britain, and possibly the Allies, in the war at all.
Sane and reasonable tactical thinking would suggest smuggling in explosives via Resistance networks, or sabotage missions to flatten the base with air power. However, SOE command didn’t have time to think reasonably.
An old WWI-era battleship was pulled back into service, for what would be her final mission. The SS Campbelltown was then packed to the brim with explosives. Storage decks, crew quarters, even the engineering deck was filled with plastic explosives. The men assigned to the mission carried more bombs on their person, to keep the party going once the Campbelltown hit her mark. When the SOE’s work was done, the ship had been converted into the world’s largest torpedo. At 4 am, the ship set off from the northern coast of England, the SOE operatives prepared to launch the first and most outlandish assault of the war.
Just before dawn, the Campbelltown struck her target perfectly. The ship’s bow sunk into the concrete dry dock, the same one capable of repairing the Bismarck. From there, the operatives set about phase two, otherwise known to history as “KILL EVERYONE.” SOE soldiers leaped from the ship, armed and ready to deal with the security detail, totally caught off-guard by the brazen attack. Once the defenders were dealt with, they set about planting their carried bombs. The fuel depot, the security detail’s ammo dump, even the pressurized gas canisters of the workshops were rigged to blow.
From there, they disappeared into the Norwegian wilderness just as Wehrmacht reinforcements arrived. By dawn, many had been tracked down and taken into captivity. But it was too late by then, the timers on the ship’s bombs had already counted down. The blast reduced the dry dock to a crater, sinking and crippling surrounding Kriegmarine vessels. The next town over, all windows were blown out and hearing damage was reported.
The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare had accomplished two things that night. First, tore out a vital component of the Nazi war machine, preventing the invasion of England and stopping an early Axis victory to the war. Secondly, and arguably more importantly, proved that the “invincible” Nazis could bleed like any mortal. They’d struck an irreparable blow to the pride and joy of Adolph Hitler’s war machine, putting a dent in his myth of indestructibility.
The SOE had shown the world that if the Nazis could be defeated at St Nazaire, they could be defeated anywhere. It was simply a matter of time, luck and artful application of extreme violence.
