For the Royal Navy, the English Channel was home waters. The idea of major enemy warships sailing through it in broad daylight, in full view of British shores, was simply unthinkable. Germany made the unthinkable happen on February 11-13, 1942, in what became known as Operation Cerberus — or in Britain, simply and bitterly, the Channel Dash.
The three ships involved were the battlecruisers Scharnhorst and Gneisenau and the heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen, which had been bottled up in Brest harbor since their return from Atlantic operations, subject to repeated RAF bombing raids. Hitler had become convinced they were more useful in Norwegian waters to threaten Allied convoys to the Soviet Union and ordered them home.
Vice Admiral Otto Ciliax chose the boldest possible route: straight through the Channel, departing at night but making most of the passage in daylight. His thinking was that the British would never expect it and that the element of surprise outweighed the risks. He was right about the surprise.
German electronic jamming disrupted British radar. A British submarine sent to observe the harbor mouth missed the departure. Two RAF reconnaissance aircraft failed to spot the fleet. The flotilla sailed through the night undetected, and by dawn was already past Cherbourg and heading into the Strait of Dover.
When the British finally realized what was happening, the response was chaotic. Six Swordfish torpedo bombers from 825 Naval Air Squadron at RAF Manston were scrambled under the command of Lieutenant Commander Eugene Esmonde. They flew directly into massive anti-aircraft fire and fighter cover with no real fighter escort of their own. All six planes were shot down. Only five of the eighteen men survived. Esmonde was awarded a posthumous Victoria Cross.
Destroyers attacked ineffectively. Coastal battery fire missed. By the time the fleet reached the North Sea, both Scharnhorst and Gneisenau had hit mines, but both survived and reached German ports. The British press was outraged. The Times declared that "nothing more mortifying to the pride of sea power has happened in home waters since the seventeenth century."
The bitter irony, recognized by naval historians, is that the Channel Dash was actually a strategic victory for Britain. The ships were now in German ports where they would be less dangerous than in Brest, where they threatened Atlantic shipping lanes. But no one who watched those six Swordfish fly toward their doom felt like claiming a strategic win.