To the Rescue
"Another picnic!" exclaimed Sefton joyfully, as the bugles sounded for
"Action Stations". "Look--there's the French squadron piling it on.
They are every bit as keen as we are to have a sniff in."
If anything, the opening phases of the bombardment were tamer than on
the occasion of the last operations. The combined fleets delivered a
tremendous fire at gradually decreasing ranges, while the Turks
gradually diminished the rapidity of their reply. It was for the most
part a gigantic waste of Krupp's ammunition, for very few of the
British and French ships were hit.
Against the fortifications at the entrance to the Straits the
battleships directed their fire, and at half-past one all the forts had
ceased to reply to the salvoes of the Allied ships.
Meanwhile the _Hammerer_ and her consorts had penetrated a considerable
distance up the Dardanelles. Here they gave and received hard knocks,
for the range averaged only two thousand yards. Several gaping holes
appeared in the unarmoured portions of the _Hammerer's_ hull, her
funnels were torn through and through, her after-bridge had been swept
away, and almost every boat she carried was splintered.
Yet her crew, well protected by the armoured barbettes and casemates,
and the broad nine-inch belt extending two-thirds of her length,
suffered little loss; and when at half-past two the _Vengeance_,
_Irresistible_, _Albion_, _Swiftsure_, _Ocean_, and _Majestic_ steamed
up to assist in the bombardment, the forts quickly ceased firing.
During the lull in the firing Dick Crosthwaite had to go on deck to
superintend the clearing away of some of the remains of the
after-bridge, which interfered with the training of the starboard
6-inch gun.
As he did so he saw the _Irresistible_ listing heavily. Whether
mortally injured by gun-fire, torpedo, or mine, he knew not at the
time, but it was certain that she was done for. An attempt was being
made to take her in tow, but already the stanch old craft was heeling
too much.
Seeing the plight of the battleship, the Turks again opened fire,
sending a hail of projectiles at the stricken ship. Her consorts
attempted to intervene and screen her from the harassing storm of
shell, for her devoted crew, working hard in a vain effort to check the
inrush of water by means of collision mats, were fully exposed to the
fire of the Turkish guns.
Reluctantly the order was given to abandon ship, and in response to
signals for assistance British destroyers dashed up, and, manoeuvring
with the utmost skill and coolness under the galling fire, actually ran
alongside the fast-sinking vessel.
Most of the _Irresistible's_ crew succeeded in leaping upon the decks
of the destroyers; a few had to take to the water, and were promptly
hauled out by ready helpers. The rescuers were only just in time, for,
amid a cloud of smoke and steam, the ship sank in deep water.
The catastrophe was not the only one, for within a very few minutes
after the sinking of the _Irresistible_, the _Ocean_, a slightly larger
battleship, having struck a mine, sank, with very little loss of life.
It was a black day for the Allies, for the French had not come off
without serious losses. The _Bouvet_, fouling a mine, the detonation
of which caused her principal magazine to explode, sank with appalling
suddenness, taking with her practically the whole of the crew. The
_Gaulois_, badly mauled by gun-fire, was obliged to haul out of line,
and it was rumoured that she had to be beached on the island of Imbros.
A new and hitherto unexpected danger had threatened the British and
French battleships--a danger against which ordinary mine-sweeping was
impracticable.
Owing to the continual current down the Dardanelles, it occurred to the
minds of the German officers serving with the Turkish forces to set
adrift numbers of floating mines. These formidable engines of
destruction were launched from the southern outlet of the Sea of
Marmora, while to make the chances of their fouling a ship doubly
certain they were released in pairs, each couple being connected by
fifty or a hundred feet of wire. The bight of the wire getting caught
across the bows of a ship would result in the mines swinging inwards
and exploding upon contact with the vessel's sides.
Wisely the British Admiral ordered a retirement, until steps could be
taken to cope with this latest scheme of defence on the part of the
enemy, and as night fell the fleet steamed towards its anchorage.
The weather was now beginning to change back to a spell of hard winds
and rain, which in itself would cause a temporary suspension of
operations, and the officers and men of the fleet had to face the
dismal prospect of "standing by" instead of returning to the attack
with renewed zest and animated by a desire to revenge their losses.
Dick was just about to sit down to a hasty meal--it was his first
opportunity of doing so since the _Hammerer_ went into action that
morning--when the "Officers' Call" was sounded.
"Now what's in the wind?" he mentally enquired as he dashed on deck.
The Sub was not kept long in doubt. A message had been received from
the flagship stating that one of the mine-sweepers, the _St. Rollo_,
had gone ashore at Yenikeui on the Asiatic shore, and about six miles
SW. by S. of Kum Kale. The _Hammerer_ and the _Tremendous_ were asked
for volunteers to attempt the rescue of the crew. It was expressly
stated that, owing to the shoaling nature of the coast at the point,
gigs or whalers must be employed, but a destroyer would be cruising in
the vicinity to pick up the rescue parties on their return.
It was taken for granted that the business was a dangerous one,
otherwise the boats would be ordered to proceed to the spot. The mere
fact that volunteers were asked was in itself significant. Not only
was there grave risk of being fired upon by the Turkish troops, who
doubtless would muster in force at the spot where the mine-sweeper
grounded, but it was now a pitch-dark night with a falling glass and a
rising sea.
"What boats have we fit for service, Mr. Box?" the Captain, addressing
the carpenter.
The warrant-officer had the information at his fingers' ends, for, as
soon as the _Hammerer_ had drawn out of range, one of the first of many
tasks of the carpenter's crew was to set to work and patch up the boats
that were most capable of being made seaworthy again.
"Now, gentlemen," continued the owner. "You know what is required and
the condition of the boats. Who will volunteer?"
Almost all the executive officers and every one of the midshipmen
signified their willingness to answer the call for aid.
"Thank you, gentlemen," exclaimed the skipper, with ill-disguised
appreciation of the result of his question. "Your answer is exactly
what I expected. Mr. Bourne will take charge of the gig, and Mr.
Crosthwaite will take the whaler. They will each have a midshipman
with them."
The Captain had not made his choice without due consideration. Bourne,
he knew, was a capable officer in a boat, while Dick Crosthwaite had
had a great amount of experience in that sort of work, both at
Dartmouth and during his commission on the _Seasprite_. In fact the
Sub had been specially reported to the Admiralty for the smart way in
which on several occasions he had taken away a boat to board merchant
ships during the light cruiser's patrol work in the North Sea. In
these days of steam propulsion, small-boat work in the British Navy
rarely gets the attention it deserves, and comparatively few officers
can handle a sailing boat with any great degree of smartness. Dick's
qualification, therefore, was the exception rather than the rule.
Saluting, the Sub hastened to make his preparations. His first act was
to choose a midshipman. He would have selected Sefton but for the fact
that that young gentleman had received a slight wound in the hand from
a flying fragment of shell. Maynebrace he dismissed from his mind; the
youngster was too impetuous, and apt to lose his head in a tight
corner. Eventually the Sub decided to ask Farnworth to accompany him,
and the lad literally jumped at the chance.
Dick had no difficulty in getting together a crew, for the men
belonging to Farnworth's boat simply clamoured to be taken. This was a
decided advantage, since all the party were used to the whaler.
While Farnworth was busily engaged in seeing that the boat was ready,
comparing the articles placed in her with the list in his "Watch Bill",
the Sub made his way to the chart-room and obtained a copy of the
largest-scale chart of Yenikeui and neighbouring coast. Rolling up the
plan he placed it in a cylindrical watertight case and hurried to the
quarter-deck, where the whaler's crew had already fallen in, and all
hands for lowering were waiting at the falls.
The whaler seemed a frail craft to take away on a dark and boisterous
night. Being only of moderate beam in proportion to her length of
twenty-seven feet, she was fairly swift under oars or sail in calm or
moderate weather, but was a "wet boat" whenever she had to encounter
any crested waves.
Nevertheless her pointed stern enabled her to manoeuvre in broken
water, such as had to be expected in Yenikeui Bay, where it would be
almost a matter of impossibility to approach the stranded trawler in a
steam cutter or pinnace.
"All correct, sir," reported Midshipman Farnworth.
The Sub thoroughly examined the boat, not that he doubted his
subordinate. It was a case of "two heads being better than one", for
in the excitement it was quite possible for necessary articles to be
overlooked.
"Boathooks, balers, spare oars, anchor and cable, signal flags and
rockets, flashing lamp, compass, lead-line--where's the lead-line?"
That important article was missing. It was speedily forthcoming, and the
Sub proceeded to take stock of the rest of the inventory.
"You have the telescope and signal-book, Mr. Farnworth?"
"Here, sir," reported the midshipman.
The men's rifles were already in the boat, secured by light lashings,
termed "beckets", under the thwarts. Spare ammunition in a box was
stowed under the stern-sheets.
Satisfied that they were all in order, Dick awaited Lieutenant Bourne's
appearance. Already that officer's boat, the gig, was ready for
lowering.
"Keep half a dozen boats' lengths astern of me, Mr. Crosthwaite,"
ordered the Lieutenant, as senior officer of the expedition. "When the
trawler is sighted we'll confer as to the best means of approaching
her. Judging by the direction of the wind, we ought to find a certain
amount of shelter under Bender Dagh Point--you know where that is?"
Dick assented. It was a precipitous crag fringed by a partly submerged
reef that extended obliquely with the shore for nearly half a mile.
"Very good; carry on!" continued Bourne.
The boats' crews climbed into their respective crafts. Amid the good
wishes of the rest of the officers Bourne took his place in the
stern-sheets of the gig, and Crosthwaite in the whaler.
"Lower away!"
Smartly the falls of the whaler were paid out, and as the boat became
waterborne the bowman and the coxswain promptly released the
disengaging gear.
"Give way!"
As one the blades of the supple ash oars dipped as the rowers bent to
their task, and the boat shot forward on her dangerous errand.
It was a long pull of five miles dead to leeward, and in all
probability a doubly hard row back in the teeth of the wind and sea.
To avoid undue chances of discovery by the Turkish batteries the boats
were unable to be towed, but it was understood that on the return
journey they might be "given a pluck" by a destroyer as soon as the
rescuer party drew out of effective rifle range from the shore.
Hardly a word was exchanged between the Sub and the junior officer from
the time of leaving the ship to the arrival of the four boats at the
rendezvous. Farnworth had all his work cut out to keep in touch with
the gig, for the night was thick with rain. That in a sense was
fortunate, for it beat down the crested waves considerably. The
midshipman had not to steer a compass course, since Bourne was
responsible for the navigation, and as long as the two boats of the
_Hammerer_ kept together all was well.
Dick, muffled in oilskins and sou'wester, kept a bright look-out for
the flashing signals from the ship, since it might be possible that
orders for recall might be made, in the event of the crew of the
stranded vessel getting away in their own boats.
Suddenly, and before the Sub realized that the boats were so near land,
the precipitous outlines of Bender Dagh Point loomed through the
darkness, a few points on the whaler's starboard bow. Not a light
appeared on shore, for which the officers were devoutly thankful; but
above the moaning of the wind and the hiss of the rain could be heard
the ominous sound of surf lashing the rocky beach.
A cast of the lead-line gave eight fathoms. At present there was no
fear of getting into shoal water, for the reef rose from a submerged
bank having only half that depth. As long as the soundings gave not
less than five fathoms the Sub knew that there was enough sea room to
clear the saw-like ridge of rocks.
"By Jove! What a death-trap!" ejaculated Farnworth, as the whaler
followed the gig round the extremity of the reef.
Dick nodded acquiescence. As a sailor he had a wholesome respect for a
lee shore. He feared the perils of the coast far more than the chance
of falling into a hostile ambush.
"Lay on your oars!" he ordered.
The boats of the _Tremendous_ were already at the rendezvous. Here it
was comparatively calm water, only a long oily roll setting in over the
reef. The four small craft lay at a boathook's length apart while the
officers discussed the plan of operation.
"I propose that the two whalers make their way alongside the wreck,"
said Bourne. "The gigs can lay off and cover them should they be fired
upon. If anything befall either, and the crew cannot be rescued
without endangering the others, the men must make their way ashore as
best they can. We cannot afford to lose two boats."
"And what then?" asked the lieutenant of the _Tremendous_.
"They'll have to make an attempt to skirt the shore of the bay,"
continued Bourne. "The chart shows that there is a beach extending
almost as far as Bender Dagh Point. We would then stand a chance of
picking them up, as it would be practicable to run a boat ashore under
the lee of the reef. You quite understand?"
The rest of the officers signified assent.
"Very well: the sooner we get to work the better. Nor'west by west a
quarter west ought to bring us in sight of the wreck. Now carry on."
The two whalers pulled almost neck and neck at half a dozen boats'
lengths apart, while at a good cable's length astern, and quite
invisible to the rest, followed the gigs.
At a quarter of the distance across the bay the boats began to feel the
effect of the seas. Half-way the crested waves, broad on the port
quarter, began to break over the gunwales. Two men were detailed to
keep baling, but in spite of their efforts the _Hammerer's_ whaler was
in danger of being swamped. To keep on the course was to court
destruction. It was only by watching the waves, and meeting the more
menacing ones nearly bows on, that the frail craft was able to live in
the turmoil of angry water.
"Lumme! won't we have a job to clean our bloomin' rifles when we get
back," muttered the "stroke" in tones loud enough for the Sub to hear.
Dick smiled grimly. It was a typical grumble of a British seaman. He
paid no heed to the present danger; the possibility of not returning to
the ship never occurred to him. He was anticipating the irksome task
of removing the effects of salt water from his rifle and bayonet.
"See anything, Jones?" asked Dick of the bow-man, raising his voice to
enable the man to hear above the roar of the elements.
The bowman faced about and, shading his eyes, peered through the mirk.
For a few moments he gazed steadily.
"Something on our starboard bow, sir," he reported, "but it may be a
rock. Luff, sir, luff--there's a brute a-coming."
Farnworth tugged at the yoke-line, at the same time ordering the men to
"back water, port--pull starboard!"
"Give way, all."
Forward dashed the whaler to meet the wall of water as near as
possible. It seemed as if nothing could prevent the frail craft from
being overwhelmed by the avalanche of foam. The oarsmen, "keeping
their eyes in the boat", saw nothing of the danger. The midshipman
gripped the tiller-lines tightly and set his teeth. Dick realized the
peril, but with great self-control moved hardly a muscle of his face,
although he fully expected to find himself and his boat's crew
struggling for dear life in the water within the next few seconds.
Like a feather the boat's bows rose in the air as she began to climb
the wall of water. It seemed as if the strenuous efforts of the rowers
would be totally insufficient to enable her to mount the towering
barrier. The bowman, missing the resistance to his blade, collapsed in
a heap on the thwart. Even in this moment of peril the Sub felt
inclined to smile at the grotesque attitude of the unfortunate man.
Then, with less than half a dozen bucketfuls of water in her, the
whaler hung irresolute on the crest of the wave, and commenced her
rapid plunge down the other side.
Two more waves of less height followed in quick succession. Then in
the ensuing "smooth", Farnworth steadied the boat on her course.
"That's her, sir!" sung out the bowman, who had extricated himself from
his undignified position. "Well on the starboard bow now, sir."
The man was right. It was the unfortunate trawler. She lay with a
considerable list to port, with the waves breaking right over her. Her
mast and funnel had gone by the board. It was too dark to see whether
any of her crew remained.
But in the meanwhile what had happened to the _Tremendous's_ whaler,
for there was no sign of her? Had she, Dick wondered, been overwhelmed
by the heavy breakers which had all but swamped his boat?