Forced to Ascend
There were no signs of confusion on the deck of R19. Only the two
after quick-firers were available, and these were promptly manned.
Those of the crew who, in normal circumstances, were stationed below,
threw themselves flat on the deck.
The submarine could not dive without great risk of again courting the
peril from which she had so recently emerged. It was even a hazardous
business to keep under way, as the forward motion, combined by the
fact that she was down by the head, made it a difficult matter to
forge either ahead or astern. To all intents and purposes she was a
motionless target for the huge battle-seaplane that manoeuvred
overhead, seeking an opportunity to strafe her opponent by means of
her powerful bombs.
"Hoist the ensign! Let her have it, lads!"
Both quick-firers were speedily in action. So rapidly were they fired
that there was a constant clatter as the ejected metal cases were
thrown from the breech.
With his head thrown back, and a pair of binoculars to his eyes,
Fordyce watched the effect of the bursting shells. Viewed from below,
the sea-plane seemed in the very midst of a hollow globe of
mushroom-like clouds of smoke from bursting projectiles. Ahead,
astern, above and below, the shells burst. It seemed as if the
hostile air-craft could not escape the inferno of flying fragments;
yet, seemingly possessing a charmed existence, she swooped onwards to
take up a favourable position for releasing her bombs.
A heavy object, hurtling with ever-increasing velocity through the
air, struck the surface of the water at less than half a cable's
length on R19's port side. With a terrible din the bomb burst,
churning up cascades of spray and hurling minute particles of metal
in all directions. A second later another "egg" fell, fortunately
without exploding, although several of the submarine's crew were well
doused by the volume of foam that was flung all around.
Back swept the biplane, manoeuvring for the position she had lost by
her momentum.
[Illustration: AHEAD, ASTERN, ABOVE, AND BELOW, THE SHELLS BURST]
As she did so, she lurched violently and began a dizzy tail-dive.
Twisting and turning in erratic spirals she dropped seawards. Loud
cheers from R19's crew greeted her descent, but their jubilation was
premature.
The tail-spin was a "blind" to enable the Hun to avoid a particularly
unhealthy "air-patch". When within five hundred feet of the surface
of the sea, the air-craft described a semi-loop in a vertical plane,
and, flattening out, sped rapidly away until lost in the faint mist
that was banking from the nor'west.
"She's bitten off more than she can chew," declared Macquare. "Now,
lads, overboard with that lumber for'ard."
Half a dozen hands, led by the Lieutenant and Fordyce, plunged
knee-deep in the water that surged over the forepart of the
submarine. It was bitterly cold. Even at that time of the year the
temperature of the Baltic was far below the average.
With handspikes and crowbars the men strove to lever the huge
projectile over the side, "sword-mats" being placed in its path to
protect the exposed edge of the deck plating. All went well until the
shell was rolled to within a few inches of the edge. Then came a
check. Something, unnoticed owing to its being under water, prevented
further progress.
"Slue her round and let her roll for'ard a bit, sir," suggested a
petty officer. "Plenty of beef out to do the trick."
Lieutenant Macquare considered the suggestion. It was one thing for
an object weighing a ton to fall through several fathoms of water and
alight upon the submarine's deck without starting the steel plates,
another to roll the same object when its weight in air was enormously
greater than when immersed in water.
"Round with her, then!" he exclaimed.
"Destroyer broad on the starboard beam, sir," reported a signalman.
The Hon. Derek, standing on the platform in the wake of the
conning-tower, was quick to take in the situation. With a thirty-knot
destroyer bearing down at top speed delay would be fatal.
"Diving-stations!" he roared. "Look alive, men!"
Down the sole available hatchway the crew poured, the
Lieutenant-Commander, Macquare, Fordyce, and the Russian officer
standing by until the last of the "lower-deck ratings" had left the
deck. To dive was R19's only chance if she were to escape the
attentions of the destroyer. Badly trimmed, it was a difficult matter
to speculate as to how the submarine would behave--whether she would
dive too steeply and ram the mud or roll completely over.
The destroyer had evidently sighted the submarine, for she had
altered course and was bearing straight down towards her. As the Hon.
Derek leapt below and closed the water-tight lid of the hatchway the
approaching craft was less than two miles off.
With the water pouring into her ballast-tanks, and her motors running
full speed ahead, R19 plunged rather than glided beneath the waves.
Never before had the indicator pointed to such an excessive dip. The
lighting dynamo short-circuited, plunging the interior of the vessel
into profound darkness, while various articles of gear, breaking
loose, careered noisily across the confined space.
Clutching the hand-rail of one of the ladders, Fordyce felt his feet
slip from under him. There he hung, his weight supported solely by
his hands, awaiting what fate had in store for him.
He was surprised at his own calmness. He found himself reasoning
that, after all, one cannot expect to have things all one's own way.
Whatever happened, R19 had had more than an ordinary run of good
luck, and, should she be "knocked out", there was some satisfaction
in the knowledge that she had already acquitted herself in a manner
worthy of the traditions of the Royal Navy.
Above the turmoil of inanimate objects on board--for amongst the crew
strict silence and discipline were maintained--could be heard the
rapid threshing of the destroyer's propellers as the long, lean craft
passed almost directly above the diving submarine. Had the destroyer
made use of depth charges, nothing could have saved R19 from swift
destruction. Why she did not was a mystery to every man of the
submarine's complement.
Suddenly, to the accompaniment of a disconcerting, rasping clamour,
R19 jerked violently until she hung on an even keel. For some seconds
she remained thus; then, rolling excessively from side to side, she
bobbed up to the surface in spite of the weight of water in the
ballast-tanks and the action of the depressed diving-rudders.
Groping in the pitch darkness, the Lieutenant-Commander found the
lever actuating the hydroplanes. These he brought to a neutral
position, since they were useless for the purpose of submersion. R19,
unable to dive, was forging ahead blindly and erratically upon the
surface, an easy prey to the vigilant destroyer.
"Up, every mother's son of you!" roared the Hon. Derek. "We'll fight
her while there's a gun left fit for action or a man jack of us
remaining to face a Hun."
With a cheer the undaunted seamen followed their gallant captain,
ready to face death with the grim determination that is ever the
enviable possession of every true Briton when up against desperate
odds.