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.There were dry docks too.And a submarine, which was moving across the harbour, its wake a line of darker grey against the brilliant whites of the sparkling water.The road dropped away and turned, and then they were down almost at water level.They crossed over a small canal and rumbled through another commercial area before coming to a sudden halt.Almost immediately the truck started off again and David realised they had passed through the gates of a defence establishment: there were several guards on the gate, as well as barracks and military vehicles.Most of the personnel were wearing naval uniform.David relaxed a little: he liked the Navy.Though formal and correct, they always seemed straightforward and trustworthy.The officers were of the old school: proper gentlemen, many from the old families, and few real Nazis among them.It would be good to work here …The truck stopped outside a squat brick building.The guard jumped out and indicated that David should follow.Inside the building a girl showed him up to an office and ushered him in.When David looked back he saw that the guard had gone.There was a German naval officer sitting behind a desk.He stood up, a thin, nervous-looking young man.‘I am Kapitanleutnant Geissler.Please be seated.’David waited for the officer to sit down then lowered himself gingerly on to a chair and waited.‘Herr Freymann, we understand you are highly qualified in radioelectrics and that you have been working for some time on the design of radio ranging devices.’David nodded, a little taken back by the ‘Herr’.It was a long time since anyone had called him that.The officer went on.‘There is a company here in Brest which we have appropriated to produce electronic and radio components for us.They are making one particular piece of equipment which has the highest priority.It is essential that this device is produced with all speed and in some quantity …’ The officer looked a little unhappy.‘However there have been problems … Problems of a technical nature.We wish you, Herr Freymann, to supervise the technical side of the operation.’David nodded and waited for the rest.‘The device is needed to protect our U-boats from enemy attack.’ The officer stood up and picked up a thin file from the top of a filing cabinet.‘I have the technical specifications here.If you could study them immediately – then I will take you over to the manufacturing unit and you can see the organisation for yourself.’David frowned.Protecting U-boats, but from what exactly? He still felt woolly-headed from the journey.As he took the file and opened it, he tried desperately to clear his brain.There were a few pages of written specifications and a fold-out plan.Both were headed: Project Metox.Most Secret.David started to read the first page of the specifications.He blinked.It was an anti-radar device.His pulse quickened and his mind cleared.This meant that the British had radar, just as Meyer and he had guessed.He looked again at the specification.It stated the necessity for the Metox device to pick up signals at maximum possible range, up to thirty nautical miles.The absolute minimum tolerable range was six miles.That seemed very precise …David looked up and asked, ‘Why this six miles? What is so special about six miles?’The officer replied, ‘Ah.You see, our U-boats must have plenty of warning.They need at least one minute to dive, and another thirty seconds to get below bombing depth!’Bombing …? David stared with incomprehension.Bombing.‘You mean aircraft attack …?’‘Yes, indeed!’ The young man exclaimed.‘These aircraft approach at over 200 knots, you must realise.We need warning of over five miles to give enough time …’But David wasn’t listening.The British had succeeded in putting radar in aircraft.That meant they had made it small enough.But how? How had they done it?Rapidly he searched down the first page of the specifications and then flipped impatiently over to the second.Where on earth was it? There! At last!The detection device was to cover the wavelengths 1.4 to 1.8 metres.David stared, trying to understand.The British radar wasn’t shortwave after all.It was within a range of wavelengths Germany had been using for some time.Nothing new at all.David felt a mixture of relief and anxiety – relief that no-one had got to the shortwave idea before him and anxiety that perhaps he had got it wrong and it wasn’t possible after all.He dragged himself back to the rest of the specification and read through it, glancing at the large-scale drawing.It was all quite simple.Whoever had designed this detecting device had got the basic idea right.There was a simple aerial, which led to a radio receiver.When the receiver picked up a radar signal from an approaching plane it emitted a high-pitched warning signal.The main problem, David saw immediately, was to get the emitter to give off a strong signal whatever the range and frequency of the incoming radar waves.The receiver itself was relatively straightforward.‘What problems have you been having, then?’ he asked.The Kapitanleutnant breathed in with obvious annoyance.‘It is difficult to be precise.Most of the devices produced so far have had small but serious defects.We don’t know why.We need you to tell us and to prevent it happening in the future.’‘I see.And the technicians at this factory, are they competent?’‘Apparently so.’‘And the components, where have they been manufactured?’‘Mainly in Germany, a few in France.They all appear to be up to standard, but …! There always seems to be something wrong with the finished sets.We need someone to make sure these faults are stamped out!’David closed the file and stood up.‘I am ready then.At your convenience.’It took two days at Goulvent, Pescard et Cie for David to realise that the Metox project was a shambles.Some of the components weren’t up to standard, the assembly line was disorganised and the French personnel were less skilled than he’d been led to expect.The problems could be solved, no doubt about that.As always, it was a question of identifying the trouble spots and eliminating them.But it would take time – rather a long time by present standards.From the moment he arrived David had run into an unexpected difficulty: he was virtually unable to communicate.He was more than a little surprised when the factory personnel failed to understand more than a few words of his French.He spoke the language badly, admittedly, but not that badly
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