Under Russian Escort
Hard on the heels of the Russian officer, Naval Lieutenant Rodsky,
the Sub made his way through the narrow hatchway. The sudden
transition from the darkness of the interior of the hull to the
brightness of the open air left him blinking in the watery sunlight.
Already the two after guns, which in the haste had been left
"unhoused", were being manned by the crews. Other guns' crews were
rushing for'ard to serve the bow quick-firers, for by this time R19
was floating on a perfectly even keel and showing an abnormal amount
of freeboard. The Hon. Derek and Lieutenant Macquare were standing by
the Quartermaster on the navigation-platform, since, owing to the
jamming of the conning-tower hatch, it was impossible to steer the
vessel except by means of the hand-wheel on the exposed raised
platform.
The destroyer was now less than a mile away. She had ported helm, and
was circling, with the evident intention of closing with the
submarine. Up to the present she made no attempt to use her guns. If
the destruction of R19 was her object, she apparently meant to use
her knife-like stem as the weapon of annihilation.
In strict silence the gun-layers trained the weapons, while the
captains of the guns awaited orders to open fire.
The stillness was broken by Lieutenant Rodsky suddenly leaping in the
air and waving his cap over his head, alighting heavily upon the toes
of the astonished Fordyce.
"Good!" shouted the Russian in his own language, forgetting to make
use of French in his excitement. "All is well. It is a Russian
destroyer, the _Zabiyaka_. I am certain on that point."
The Sub hastened to his commanding officer and translated the
Russian's words.
"Let's hope Ivan won't make a mistake then," remarked the Hon. Derek.
He glanced upwards at the White Ensign. In spite of the fact that it
was saturated with moisture, the bunting was streaming proudly on the
breeze.
Almost at the same time the destroyer's colours fluttered athwart her
course. There was no mistaking the blue St. Andrew's Cross on a white
field--the naval ensign of Russia. Notwithstanding changes ashore,
where a Republican flag had superseded that of the Emperor of all the
Russias, the fleet still retained the blue diagonal cross.
Even then the thought that the oncoming vessel might be displaying
false colours flashed through the Hon. Derek's mind. Russian-built
she might be, but there was no telling what changes had recently
taken place. She might have been captured by the Huns during the
operations in the Gulf of Riga or in the subsequent battle of Moon
Sound, and, as a prize, used against her former masters and their
allies. So the order was given for the guns' crews to stand fast and
await further orders.
Slowing down, the _Zabiyaka_ drew within hailing distance. She was
cleared for action, while a couple of jagged holes through her
foremost funnel and a dismounted quick-firer flung across her deck
were evidences that she had participated in a recent "scrap".
Her officers still wore the uniform of the Imperial Russian Navy; her
crew, alert, blonde-featured men, were quick to obey the orders given
by their superiors. It was pleasing to find that in this destroyer
the blighting canker of red revolution had not done its ruinous work.
A lively exchange of greetings passed between Rodsky and the
Captain-Lieutenant of the Russian vessel, from which the British
officers gathered that the destroyer had engaged and brought down the
Hun sea-plane that had vainly endeavoured to strafe the
partly-crippled R19. They also learnt that the Russian battleships
and cruisers had contrived to escape the trap in Moon Sound,
sustaining comparatively trivial losses; while the German High Seas
Fleet, shaken by submarine attack, had not ventured in pursuit, but
had drawn off, making, it was supposed, for Kiel.
The _Zabiyaka's_ commanding officer, hearing of the plight of the
British submarine, offered to escort her to within the limits of the
port of Cronstadt, where, it was to be hoped, sufficient repairs
could be effected to enable R19 to resume her aggressive rôle.
Examination showed that the submarine had sustained considerable
damage. In diving she had shaken off the enormous projectile that lay
across her deck, but as the missile rolled over the side it had bent
one of the diving-rudders hard over against the hull. At the same
time a considerable portion of the false keel had become detached,
although what caused the automatic fastenings to release themselves
remained a mystery. It was the sudden release of both the keel and
deadweight of the projectile that had caused R19 to shoot up to the
surface. Combined with the fact that both periscopes were out of
action, and that the submarine could only dive erratically under the
influence of the remaining hydroplane, it was plain to all on board
that the sooner she made Cronstadt the better.
During the following morning the Captain-Lieutenant of the _Zabiyaka_
paid a visit to the Lieutenant-Commander of R19, and in the course of
the conversation the British officers became better acquainted with
the chaotic state of affairs in and around Petrograd. A section of
the Russian fleet had mutinied, murdering several of their officers
and subjecting them to unnameable indignities. Rioting was taking
place in the capital, while the soaring increase in wages was met
with more than a corresponding rise in the prices of the necessaries
of life. Countless revolutionary and Extremist "committees" were
being formed, to increase still further the difficulties of the
unhappy country. Already the deluded peasantry found that there were
stupendous defects in the clap-trap theory of social democratic
equality. It was doubtless an easy matter to seize and distribute the
possessions of the rich landowners; but it was quite another matter
to manage with any degree of efficiency their newly-acquired land.
Reports, too, of increasing cases of fraternization between the
German and the Russian troops in the trenches showed that the wily
Hun, a typical wolf in sheep's clothing, was content to play a
waiting game so far as the Eastern Front was concerned, knowing that
the anarchy-torn country could be left to itself until the masses of
German troops, released for sterner work elsewhere, could return to
complete the destruction of the vast but already-tottering new
republic.
The Russian officer had barely taken his departure when R19's yeoman
of signals reported the receipt of a wireless message sent from the
British Embassy at Petrograd. It was in cipher, but when decoded its
meaning was bluntly emphatic:
"The state of affairs here renders it necessary for H.M. Submarine
R19 to return to her base. Co-operation on the part of the Russian
Government can no longer be guaranteed. Admiralty orders to this
effect have been communicated to all British forces engaged in
operations in the Baltic and on the Eastern Front."
The Hon. Derek read the decoded message and glanced enquiringly at
his brother officer.
"By Jove," he exclaimed, "we're in a pretty fix! Now what would you
suggest, Macquare?"
The Lieutenant solemnly closed one eye.
"Since you ask me, sir," he replied, "I'd carry on to execute
repairs. In our present condition we could no more get out of the
Baltic than fly. Refitted we could have a fair chance of having
another slap at the Huns."
"But in the face of these orders?" asked the Lieutenant-Commander.
"Take Nelson's example at Copenhagen as a precedent, sir," rejoined
the Lieutenant.