SUBMARINES
The ships destroy us above
And ensnare us beneath;
We arise, we lie down, and we move
In the belly of Death.
The ships have a thousand eyes
To mark where we come ...
And the mirth of a seaport dies
When our blow gets home.
_From "Fringes of the Fleet,"_
_by_ KIPLING
On January 15, 1917, we left the base where we had spent Christmas and
proceeded northward again, but nothing worthy of note occurred until
some six weeks later. Then one day we were going to sea for manœuvres,
and soon after we had cleared the harbour some of us Snotties at the
time variously occupied in the gunroom were startled by blasts from
the siren.
We promptly rushed up on deck to find the ship rapidly altering course
to port; at the same moment the forward 4-inch guns fired a salvo,
and we saw the shells fall about 3000 yards away, just short of the
conning-tower of a U-boat awash on the surface. Apparently until
we fired she had been unaware of our approach, for she immediately
submerged, and made no attempt to fire a torpedo at us.
Notwithstanding the fact that submarine warfare has become almost a
commonplace of naval existence, the knowledge of the near presence
of an invisible foe never fails to produce a considerable thrill and
a tightening of the nerves, half hope and half apprehension. This
doubtless is intensified in the case of those who have already been
through the unpleasing experience of having their floating home sunk
beneath their feet. In addition to my own midnight adventure in the
Dardanelles on May 13, 1915, three of the others in the gunroom had
already undergone that ordeal when the _Hogue_ was torpedoed. However,
this particular U-boat must have been suffering from nerves, for, so
far as we know, she made no attempt to attack us. Perhaps the near
presence of our watchful destroyers suggested to her that it was a case
for discretion rather than for valour. Barring this incident manœuvres
on that occasion passed off uneventfully.
_I regret that this chapter cannot justify its title. On mature
consideration I have come to the conclusion that to dilate further on
the very interesting subject of submarines would be indiscreet._
* * * * *
A week or two later the Vice-Admiral evolved a scheme for alleviating
the monotony of our lives, and requested the C.-in-C.'s permission to
send each division of his squadron over to the northern shore of the
anchorage for three day's complete rest from routine and in order to
provide officers and men with a chance of getting ashore.
Permission having been duly granted we anchored one evening, having
previously dispatched a working party consisting of A.B.'s, carpenters,
etc., to prepare a field in which to hold some athletic sports.
The next day dawned fine and clear. Owing to the flow of the Gulf
Stream, the temperature in these latitudes is much warmer than dwellers
in the south would imagine, and in this month of April 1917 we were
certainly much more fortunate than our fellows in less northerly
districts.
At 9 A.M. I landed in company with a Lieutenant and two other Snotties,
and we decided to walk the eleven miles to the nearest township in
preference to watching the sports. We reached our destination shortly
after midday, somewhat footsore and weary from the unaccustomed
exercise, but with fine appetites for lunch, which we had in a very
decent little hotel much frequented in piping times of peace by ardent
anglers. Later on we inspected the curious old distillery which is the
chief object of interest in the town. Then we did some shopping, and
started on our return tramp at about 2.30. We got back at 5, had an
excellent tea at a farmhouse, and returned on board our ship at 7.30,
feeling much the better for the change and exercise.
Next morning, to our great disgust, we were detailed to exchange some
ammunition, which occupation took up all the forenoon and robbed us of
time which could have been spent more pleasantly on the beach. However,
by 1.30 I was free and went ashore with another Snotty. Close by was
a high hill which had long been a painfully familiar landmark to us
by reason of range-finding exercises, carried out, with the pole on
its summit as object, while the ship steamed round the land-locked
anchorage in endless monotonous circles. Up this hill we climbed,
passing on our way little groups of officers or men lying about on its
lower slopes, and smoking and chatting in the pale sunshine, the while
they luxuriated in the brief change from shipboard: only a very few
of them emulated our youthful energy and reached the top, from which a
splendid view of our base and its surrounding islands was obtained.
As the afternoon wore on, various fires sprang up, resulting from the
action of careless smokers, and these spread so rapidly that shortly
after we got on board again a call came for volunteers to extinguish
them, since it was feared that if damage to the countryside resulted,
future "joy stunts" in that district would be prohibited. There was
no lack of recruits forthcoming, for this was just such a job as the
"matloe's" soul loves, as it gives him ample scope for the indulgence
of his twin passions of dressing-up and roaring lusty and ribald
choruses to popular tunes! To the dreamy melody of "Keep the' Ome Fires
burning—I _don't_ fink," the fire party embarked in the picket-boat
with launch and cutter in tow, all chock-a-block with men of diverse
ratings. Their costumes were varied and heterodox, and they were all
heavily armed with broomsticks, swabs, etc., with which to combat the
flames. When we reached the pier the men fell in, and Commander "T."
who was in charge divided them into three parties and detailed one
party to deal with each of the main outbreaks.
The party officered by Wilson, Laurence, and myself ran the first mile
at breakneck speed, but the pace flagged when we got among the bogs at
the bottom of the hill, for here every few yards we floundered up to
our waists in mud and water. To our disgusted disappointment, when we
arrived at our special objective it was only to find that we had been
forestalled by a party from another ship and the fire was already out.
It was a weird scene: from all over the hill-side different parties
were signalling with flash-lamps, and bursts of song came from every
quarter. On the summit a group of men from H.M.S. —— were lustily
yodelling "Life in the Alps," and altogether it was a fair old beano
for the ships' companies engaged.
When all the fires had been adequately "strafed," we returned on board,
an uncommonly dirty but very merry crew.
That night the gunroom was entertaining some officers from one of our
submarines which happened to be alongside, and on our entry we were met
by a fog of tobacco smoke you could have cut with a knife, and a chorus
of song which made up in volume what it lacked in melody. Clamouring
for instant drinks, we joined the throng, and only a few minutes later
who should blow in but Commander ——, no less dirty and dishevelled
than the rest of us. Evidently he had found the staid decorum of the
wardroom little to his taste, and with that sublime indifference to
his "exalted rank" which characterized him when "off duty," he joined
in our gunroom "rag" with as much zest as the youngest Snotty—to whom,
notwithstanding his decorations and three stripes, he was in point of
age not more than a dozen years senior.
The uproar was at its height when the ship's corporal came to report
in reproachful tones that "lock up" was long overdue, and I shall
not easily forget his face of amazed dismay when he saw the Acting
Commander (the Commander was away on leave) hobnobbing with the gunroom
in democratic disregard of overwhelming seniority.