THE END OF THE "TERRIER"
H.M. torpedo-gunboat "Terrier" lay at anchor just within the limits
of one of the numerous shallow estuaries of the Essex Coast. By the
aid of the lead-line and an Admiralty chart on too small a scale to
be of much assistance, Captain Holloway had taken his craft through
the intricate approach channel with often less than three feet of
water under her keel. Now she was lying head to wind, for it was high
water and no tide running, in six fathoms, and within two hundred and
eighty yards of the mud-fringed shore.
The "Terrier" had spent an uneventful week on her station, patrolling
her appointed limits in the North Sea without a single incident to
break the monotony. Swept fore and aft by huge seas that her high
fo'c'sle failed to ward off; plugging away in a zig-zag course day
after day, till her grey funnels were bleached white with salt spray;
with her guns' crews standing by their guns through watch and watch
day and night, she was "doing her little bit" as one small unit of
the vast, tireless navy.
A few hours previous to the torpedo gunboat's anchoring in the creek,
one of the crew had with great suddenness developed appendicitis.
Although the "Terrier" carried a surgeon, the case was one for a
shore hospital, and as one of the Admiralty "sick-quarters" was
situated in the village at the head of the creek, Captain Holloway
decided to land the patient with the utmost despatch.
It was blowing fairly fresh. Outside the bar the sea was
foam-flecked. Rollers came tumbling in, breaking heavily on shore or
else expending themselves harmlessly in the creek. At her anchorage
the torpedo-gunboat was pitching slightly to the heave of the open
sea.
"Do you see any sign of the boat, Mr. Aubyn?" asked Captain Holloway.
"Those fellows ought to be on their way back by this time."
Terence, who was officer of the watch, brought his glass to bear upon
the shore, where a cluster of red-tiled roofs, dominated by the grey
tower of a church, marked the position of the village--a distance of
about a mile and a half from where the "Terrier" lay.
"Boat's still at the hard, sir," he reported. "The boat-keeper is
sitting in the stern sheets."
Lieutenant-Commander Holloway gave vent to a gesture of impatience.
He knew from the fact that the seaman left in charge was taking it
easy that the rest of the party were not on their way back to the
hard.
On board the "Terrier" the crew were taking advantage of dry decks to
air their saturated clothing and bedding. The watches had just been
changed. Down on the ill-ventilated mess-deck grimy stokers, up from
the confined stokehold, were scrubbing themselves and changing into
clean rig. The fo'c'sle was packed with humanity. Amid the babel of
voices Terence could detect the burr of Glorious Devon, the broad
Scotch of the Highlands, the staccato voice of an excitable Welshman,
the rich brogue of Connemara, and the last but not least, the
unmistakable Cockney accent, but one and all stout-hearted British
seamen. The most frequent topic of conversation that drifted to the
sub.'s ears as he stood on the elevated bridge was football. Some of
the men were discussing home affairs in the blunt open fashion that
Jack Tar unconsciously adopts; others were debating the prospects of
Christmas leave. As for the war, the subject was almost entirely
ignored.
Once more the sub. brought his telescope to bear upon the shore.
There were signs of activity on the part of the boat-keeper, so
Terence came to the conclusion that the hospital party were on their
way back.
Then, with a true seaman's almost unconscious instinct he gave a
glance first to windward and then towards the open sea. As he did so
he made a sudden dash to the engine-room telegraph, signalling for
full speed astern with the starboard engine and full speed ahead with
the port, at the same time shouting in stentorian tones that
electrified the whole of the crew within hearing:--
"Submarine on the port beam!"
A bugle blared. Ere the short notes of alarm had died away Captain
Holloway was beside his subordinate on the bridge. The guns' crews of
the two 4.7's sprang to their weapons. Clang went the breach-blocks.
"Eight hundred yards!" announced the gunner calmly, as the copper
cylinders with their deadly steel heads were thrust home.
But a deadlier weapon was already on its way towards the doomed ship.
A torpedo, set at its minimum depth in order to make sure that it
would not pass under the keel of its intended prey, was tearing
towards the "Terrier" with the speed of an express train.
From his position on the bridge Terence watched its rapid progress.
He could do nothing beyond what he had already done. It was evident
that before the ship could swing on her cable, under the adverse
action of her twin propellers, until she was bows on to the deadly
missile, the torpedo would hit her.
At times the gleaming steel cylinder was clear of the water between
the crests of the waves, yet unswerving either to right or left, it
headed with disconcerting accuracy towards the ship.
The two 4.7's clashed almost simultaneously. The shell from her bow
gun, aimed at the now disappearing periscope of the hostile
submarine, missed it by a bare yard, and ricochetting, threw up five
distinct columns of spray ere it sunk for good and all.
The gun-layer at the after gun with admirable presence of mind
launched a projectile at the torpedo in the hope of diverting its
course. He made one mistake: he forgot to take into consideration the
refractive properties of water, and consequently the missile struck
the surface too far in the wake of the torpedo to affect its
direction.
"Stand clear there!" shouted the captain, seeing even in that tense
interval that several of the men were standing by the stanchions.
There was a general rush to the starboard side to avoid the direct
effect of the explosion of the "tin-fish," then a strange silence
fell upon the ship's company.
"Crash!"
A hundred feet or so in the air rose a column of spray, as the deadly
torpedo exploded on the port side nearly abreast of the fo'c'sle gun.
The ship literally jumped a yard or so out of the water, then with a
sickening thud, followed by the unmistakable sound of water pouring
into her hull, subsided heavily in the agitated foam.
With his senses practically numbed by the shock of the explosion,
Terence stood stockstill, grasping the bridge rail with both hands,
while unconscious of the fact he held his telescope under his arm. He
was dimly aware of the débris flying all around him, as the slender
pole-mast, ventilators, and other heavy objects went crashing over
the side. Then, as the cloud of spray and acrid smoke dispersed he
could discern the forms of the crew as with varying speeds the
majority regained their feet. A few, stunned by the concussion, were
lying inertly upon the deck.
For quite ninety seconds Aubyn remained in his dazed condition. Then
he realized that the ship was done for, and that he was still alive.
Further, as an officer it was his duty to exert himself for the sake
of the men. He remembered that the captain had been on the bridge,
and turning saw his superior officer standing at the head of the
ladder.
The captain was capless. There was blood upon his forehead. A
splinter had grazed his head, making a clean superficial wound. The
two men exchanged reassuring glances, then in clear, steady tones
Captain Holloway issued an order for all hands to fall in on the
quarter-deck.
The men made their way aft at the double. There was no undue
scrambling or frantic haste, although the "Terrier's" raised fo'c'sle
was now almost flush with the water, and her after part, where the
freeboard was nominally only five feet, was thrice that height in the
air.
Up through the small awkward engine-room stokehold hatchways came the
"black squad," not one man of whom had stirred from his post until
ordered to do so. Knowing full well that a catastrophe had befallen
the ship, but ignorant of the actual facts, or whether she was on the
point of making a sudden plunge to the bottom, these men had to
undergo the greatest ordeal of any of the ship's company. Yet, before
making his dash for safety, the artificer-engineer had taken care to
prevent an explosion of the boilers as the water poured into the
stokehold.
Of the boats on the davits only one was fit for service. The others
were badly strained by the explosion or damaged by the flying
débris. The serviceable one was quickly lowered, and, although
leaking freely, was manned and brought alongside.
"Pass all injured men over the side," ordered Captain Holloway. "The
rest of you can make the best of your way ashore--and good luck to
you."
The crew gave three rousing cheers and prepared for the coming
ordeal, for although the distance to the shore was an easy swim the
bitter coldness of the water had to be taken into consideration.
One by one the wounded were passed into the boat; after them as many
men as she could safely hold. The boat was ordered to lie off and
render assistance to any swimmers in difficulties.
"With your permission, sir," said Aubyn, "I'll have a look down on
the mess-deck. There may be some of the hands left below."
"Do so, by all means, Mr. Aubyn," replied his superior. "The old
boat shows no great hurry."
"I fancy she's aground for'ard, sir," said the sub. "I'll be as sharp
as I can."
Descending the now almost perpendicular ladder Terence gained the
shelving mess-deck. Already the water was surging over the forepart;
kit-bags, tables and stools were floating in a confused mass, while
those that were not yet reached by the rapidly rising flood had been
thrown about in all directions by the explosion.
It was some time before the sub. grew accustomed to the semi-gloom.
His senses were still affected by the concussion; he could see the
water pouring in, but the noise it made was barely audible. The
situation reminded him of a cinematograph show unaccompanied by a
band.
"All clear as far as I can see," he thought. "It's about time I
looked after number one. Heavens! What is that?"
Lying almost buried by a pile of gear in one corner of the stokers'
mess was the body of a man. He was insensible, and, in the hurried
rush, had been overlooked by his companions. Already the level of the
water was up to the man's chin as he lay with his head and shoulders
propped up against a broken ditty-box.
Knee-deep in water Terence hurried to the rescue. The man, a great
brawny specimen of humanity, was stripped to the waist. Surprised in
the act of washing, after coming off duty, he had been rendered
senseless by the explosion. His right leg was bent under him. The
limb, Terence knew at a glance, was broken. He was also bleeding
profusely from an ugly scalp wound in the back of his head.
In spite of the unconscious stoker's weight--he turned the scale at
sixteen stone--Aubyn dragged him along the deck to the foot of the
ladder. Here he was temporarily baffled, for the metal "treads" were
now sloping downwards at such an angle that it would be difficult for
him to get a foothold unimpeded, much more when attempting to lift a
heavy man.
It never occurred to the sub. to call upon Captain Holloway for
assistance. The captain, the only person now on deck, was
mechanically puffing at an unlighted cigarette, while his attention
was fixed upon the crowd of swimmers, good, bad, and indifferent, as
they struck out for the shore. Beyond removing his boots the captain
had made no preparations for safety, resolving to remain on his
quarter-deck until his ill-fated command disappeared beneath the
waves.
Unseen by his superior officer and equally unconscious of his
presence, Terence gained the upper deck, secured a rope, and again
descended to the aid of the luckless stoker. Bending the rope round
the man's chest and back the sub. clambered up the ladder and began
to heave away. Under ordinary circumstances Aubyn would never have
attempted such a feat, but sheer nerve gave him the strength of a
giant. Unaided he succeeded in raising the senseless man and toppling
him over the coaming on to the deck.
Just then Captain Holloway, having seen that the last of the swimmers
had reached the mud-fringed shore, remembered that the sub. had gone
below, and finding that he had not returned, hurried to the
companion.
To his surprise he found Aubyn bending over the body of a badly
wounded stoker.
"Found him below, sir," explained the sub. "Double fracture of the
leg and a nasty gash on his head."
With his captain's assistance Terence proceeded to apply rough
splints to the injured limb and to staunch the flow of blood from the
man's head.
"We'll soon have him out of it," remarked Captain Holloway. "The
gig's returning, and I see the whaler is coming up as hard as she
can."
He pointed to the boat which had taken the invalid to the
sick-quarters. Alarmed by the explosion and concluding that something
had befallen the ship, the ship's crew had bent to their oars with a
will, to find on drawing clear of the hard that the "Terrier" was on
the point of sinking.
The sub. felt himself shivering. The keen wind blowing against his
saturated nether garments reminded him that it was mid-winter. As he
stooped to wring the water out of the bottoms of his trousers he
realized that the unconscious stoker, who a few moments before had
been toiling in the hot stokehold, was now lying stripped to the
waist.
Removing his great-coat and muffler Terence slipped the garments over
the unfortunate man, just as the gig and the whaler came alongside.
This time there were plenty of helpers. Carefully the stoker was
lowered into the whaler and placed in the stern-sheets.
"Give way, my lads," ordered Captain Holloway. "Run this man up to
the sick-quarters as hard as you know how."
Then turning to Aubyn he added,
"The old ship seems to be hanging on. We may as well have a look
below and see if there's anything of value in our cabins."
Bidding the gig lie off at a boat's length from the ship, which was
now tilted at such an angle that her propellers were clear of the
water, Captain Holloway, followed by Terence, disappeared down the
little companion just abaft the after 4.7-in. gun.
Although Aubyn had been on board the torpedo-gunboat only a week he
was thoroughly familiar with the appearance of the little box-room
dubbed by courtesy a cabin. It would be difficult to describe its
shape, for being well aft she was cut into by the "run" of the
ship's side as it approached the stern-post. It was lighted by two
scuttles, or circular ports. Immediately beneath these lights was his
bunk, extending from bulkhead to bulkhead, yet barely long enough for
him to lie at full length.
Underneath the bunk were two mahogany drawers. In one of the two
corners of the cabin, which were rectangular, stood a wash-basin,
hidden from view by a green baize curtain. Against the opposite
bulkhead was a very small stove, its brasswork polished to a high
degree. Somewhere between the rest of the space was a chair which had
to be moved whenever the occupant of the cabin crossed from one side
of his personal and private domain to the other. Even the steel
ceiling, coated with cork cement, in a feeble attempt to prevent
"sweating" of the metal, was utilized for a secondary purpose; from
here hung the sub.'s enamelled iron bath.
Being well aft Aubyn's cabin had escaped much of the force of the
explosion, but most of the loose gear had been displaced and lodged
in the angle formed by the sloping floor and bulkhead. Two
photographs in silver frames, their glasses smashed to atoms, lay on
the carpet in company with the sub.'s silver cigarette-case, his
watch and chain and a toilet-case--the latter a present from his
headmaster upon leaving school. That little heap represented
practically the whole of his worldly belongings in the way of
luxuries: he could have stowed the lot inside his sweater.
Yet he did nothing of the sort. Like a man in a trance he stood in
the doorway. Unaccountably the dazed feeling that gripped him
immediately after the ship had received her death-blow took
possession of him again. There he remained, gazing at the scene of
disorder, without stirring a finger to save his treasures, until he
was aroused by Captain Holloway exclaiming:--
"Look alive, Mr. Aubyn. She's going."
Up the companion raced the two officers. The ship was trembling
violently. Air bubbles, escaping through the submerged scuttles,
agitated the water alongside. The whole of the fore-part of the
"Terrier," as far as the base of the after funnel, was under the
waves. It was even a difficult matter to cross the deck from the
companion to the side.
The gig backed. Captain Holloway signed to the sub. to leap; then
giving a last look round he followed Aubyn into the boat.
"Lay on your oars, man," he ordered, after the gig had gone a hundred
yards from the sinking ship.
Standing in the stern-sheets, Captain Holloway waited for the end. It
was not long in coming. With the White Ensign still fluttering
proudly in the breeze, the "Terrier" dipped more and more till ten
feet of the after-part of her keel was visible. For a brief instant
the towering mass seemed to hang irresolute, then with hardly a
splash the hull disappeared from sight, leaving only the after-mast
from the truck to the hounds above the surface.
Raising his hand to the peak of his cap the captain gave his former
command a last salute, then resuming his seat, bade the men "give
way."
All the inhabitants of the village were on the shore ready to offer
hospitality to the crew, many of whom had discarded most of their
clothing before jumping from the ship. One petty officer, three able
seamen, and a stoker were missing--doubtless killed outright by the
explosion. Four men were seriously injured, while a score more were
suffering from wounds and shock.
"Hanged if I can quite realize it," remarked Captain Holloway, as he
walked with Aubyn towards the village. "I remember going down to my
cabin and grabbing a spare cap. There were two drawers in my locker.
In one was fifty half-sovereigns, and in the other over three hundred
pounds in notes. The gold is in my trousers' pocket, but, although I
recollect seeing the notes, I've let the whole lot go to Davy Jones.
Strange, eh? Why, what's the matter with you, man?"
He turned and grasped Terence by the shoulders just in time to
prevent him from falling to the ground in a dead faint.