THE TABLES TURNED.
"THE swine!" ejaculated Gilroy furiously. "They know we play the
game, but if I had my will, I really believe I'd ship a couple of
captured German officers on board every merchantman clearing our
ports."
"That wouldn't stop them, Gilroy," remarked the captain. "Not even if
you had old Tirpitz's son as a figure-head. Instead of which he's
living in luxury at our expense, while our officers and men are being
housed like cattle. No, we must do our work with clean hands."
"Not even employ a ruse, sir?" queried Gilroy.
"That doesn't enter into the question," replied his superior officer.
"As a matter of fact, I mean to have a little try on. It's hardly in
accordance with Admiralty procedure, but I'll explain, and if any of
you gentlemen have any objections, don't hesitate to say so."
"I am willing to take the risk, sir," declared Gilroy, after the
captain had outlined his plans. "And if we succeed I don't think My
Lords will give us a rap on the knuckles."
"And you, Mr. Aubyn?"
"I am of the same opinion as Mr. Gilroy, sir."
"Very good: we'll carry on," concluded the skipper of the
"Livingstone."
Accordingly the destroyer returned to the rendezvous off The Start.
From there she sent a wireless announcing certain engine-room
defects, that might well have stood over to a more convenient time,
and requested permission to put into Brixham, where the work could be
carried out.
Back came the reply: "Concur. Make good defects on relief by
'Radimus'."
At ten p.m. the destroyer "Radimus" came up, and exchanged signals
with the "Livingstone," which at once steamed for Brixham.
There was just enough water for the destroyer to enter the outer
harbour and tie up alongside the wall. An hour later she was aground;
a little later she was high and dry in the tidal harbour.
Both the captain of the "Livingstone" and Lieutenant Gilroy had ample
private means, and they did not hesitate to spend money for the good
of the country and the Navy in particular. So within forty minutes of
the destroyer entering Brixham Harbour, the two officers,
notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, had concluded a bargain
with a local owner for the hire of three of the weatherly trawlers
for which that Devonshire port is so greatly celebrated.
At two in the morning, when Brixham slept, the crew of the
"Livingstone" were hard at work, transporting stores and munitions to
the three hired trawlers. By dint of great exertion one four-inch gun
with its mountings was transferred to each of the trawlers and set in
position just abaft the mainmast.
Directly the tide rose sufficiently, the trawlers, each containing a
third of the "Livingstone's" crew, in addition to the regular hands,
warped out into the Roads, hoisted sail, and with a fresh easterly
breeze "reached off" towards The Start.
Thus Terence Aubyn found himself, for the first time in his career,
senior executive officer of an armed vessel--the ketch "Asphodel,"
with a sturdy Brixham fisherman as his sailing master, and twenty
bluejackets lying upon the deck.
The three trawlers maintained a "line ahead" formation, the captain
of the "Livingstone" leading in the "Myrtle," Lieutenant Gilroy
second in the "Cinema," and Terence as the rear-guard. To all outward
appearance the unofficial flotilla was off to the fishing-grounds.
Five miles S.S.E. of the Devon promontory known as The Start, the
destroyer "Radimus" crossed the bows of the trawlers, bound for
Portland Bill, the eastern limit of her patrolling ground.
Unsuspecting, her officer of the watch brought his glasses to bear
upon the three peaceful ketches, and proceeded on his way.
Half an hour later a large auxiliary barque came ploughing her way up
Channel. Although absolutely unarmed she showed no fear of the
threatened submarine blockade, her red ensign proudly and
unmistakably announcing the fact that she belonged to the greatest
mercantile navy the world has ever yet seen.
"That rascally submarine, sir!" announced the master of the
"Asphodel" to Terence, pointing to a peculiar swirl in the placid
water about a mile astern of the barque, followed by the
sinister-looking conning-tower and twin periscopes of the German
pirate.
Doffing his regulation cap, Aubyn raised his head just above the low
bulwarks and kept the submarine under observation with his telescope.
Owing to the "line-ahead" formation of the trawlers, the "Asphodel"
was nearest the enemy craft, which bore well on that trawler's port
quarter.
The barque was helpless. Being under a full press of canvas she could
not even attempt to ram her antagonist, while the wind being light,
and her auxiliary engines of comparatively low horse-power, flight
was out of the question.
The German submarine approached quickly and fearlessly. A survey of
the horizon revealed to her captain nothing formidable in sight, only
three harmless trawlers off to the fishing-ground. When he had
finished with the barque, he decided, he would send two of the
trawlers to the bottom, in order to let the English know that even
fish was to become a scarce article of food, and let the third craft
go with the crews of their sunken consorts.
It did not take the submarine long to range up on the starboard
quarter of the barque. A brief argument took place between the German
captain and the British merchant skipper, with the result that the
latter, finding resistance useless, had the vessel hove-to.
On the deck of the submarine, just in front of the after quick-firing
gun that had been raised from below and was trained on the barque,
stood a steel boat lashed down and secured in chocks. In the boat's
garboards were four large apertures, each capable of being closed
watertight by the manipulation of a single interrupted thread screw.
When open these holes allowed the boat to be emptied or flooded with
great rapidity as the submarine rose or dived.
Yet for some reason the pirates made no attempt to use their own
boat; they ordered the barque to lower two of hers, and with three
men in each to row alongside the submarine.
It was the intention of the Germans to rifle the prize before they
placed explosives on board. They were evidently short of provisions,
oil, and petrol, and these were to be found in abundance upon the
luckless barque. The ship's boats could be more conveniently employed
upon this business, as in the case of a surprise there would be delay
in hauling the steel tender on to the submarine's deck and securing
it, before she could dive.
Terence watched this part of the operation with extreme annoyance. If
the pirate meant to keep some of the British crew on the deck of the
submarine, her destruction could not be accomplished without great
risk and peril to the men of the mercantile marine. However, he
decided the capture or destruction of the unknown submarine--for she
had no number painted on her grey sides or conning-tower--was
imperative, and acting in accordance with a prearranged plan, he gave
the master of the "Asphodel" instructions to steer towards the now
motionless barque, approaching on the starboard hand, while the other
trawlers held steadily on their course.
It was sound strategy. The captain of the submarine evidently
imagined that the trawler was approaching out of sheer curiosity, or
that, seeing the barque hove-to, her master thought that the skipper
of the British craft wished to communicate with the shore. Lying
snugly under the port quarter of the barque, the submarine was now
invisible from the trawler's deck, while the crew of the captured
vessel were ordered not to give the alarm under penalty of death.
Meanwhile, the "Myrtle" and "Cinema," having crossed the barque's
track, were able from a convenient distance to see what was going on.
The pirates made their captives work with the utmost dispatch, and in
a very short time almost all of the barque's cargo and stores that
they were in need of was transported to the submarine and stowed
below.
This done, the captain was ordered to surrender his papers, but the
stubborn old salt declared that he had heaved them overboard before
capture. As a matter of fact they were slipped into the lining at the
back of his coat. This act of non-compliance aroused the German
captain's anger. Ordering the boats back to the barque, he told the
skipper and crew that they had five minutes to clear out. At the
expiration of that time limit, he would sink the vessel by gun-fire.
Directly the British officers on the "Myrtle" and "Cinema" saw that
there were no longer any of the crew of the barque on or alongside
the submarine a signal was sent to the "Asphodel." Instantly the
ketch luffed up, ran under the barque's stern and came in sight, and
within eighty or a hundred yards of the submarine, the crew of which
were standing by their quick-firers, ready to hull and sink the
prize.
"Heave-to, 'Asphodel'!" shouted the German captain in good English,
as he read the name of the apparently unsuspecting trawler that had
blundered right into his clutches. "Heave-to, or we'll sink you
without mercy."
"Let them have it!" shouted Terence. He had no scruples now. It was a
fair fight between a modern submarine, with her guns ready for
action, and a trawler manned by a trained Navy crew.
Like a sheet of tissue paper caught in a furious wind the tarpaulin
concealing the gun was whipped off; cool and collected the
highly-trained gun-layer lingered a fraction of a second over the
sights, then--_crash!_
Almost before the recoil of the weapon had been taken up by the
hydraulic mountings the breech-block flew open with a clang and a
fresh cartridge was inserted.
One round was enough.
The shell, fired at almost point-blank range, had penetrated the
conning-tower, killing the captain and ripping the steel plating like
cardboard. More, the fragments of the exploded missile had put out of
action all the crew of the fore quick-firer.
Terrified by the appalling concussion the engine-room ratings of the
submarine abandoned their posts at the motor and ran on deck, while
the after-gun's-crew, realizing that they were trapped, made no
attempt to use their piece, especially as they were covered by the
formidable 4-inch on the "Asphodel's" deck.
With their hands held high above their heads the pirates raised a
monotonous shout of "Mercy, Englishmen!"
The submarine was done for. With the conning-tower shattered she
could not dive; apart from the abandonment of the motors, she could
not seek safety in flight, for even if running on the surface she
would quickly be swamped by the seas pouring over her low freeboard.
"Mercy, Englishmen! Mercy!"
The cry was repeated over and over again. The recreant Teutons, taken
red-handed, were firmly convinced that their captors intended putting
them to death--the extreme penalty for their guilt.
Terence glanced in the direction of the two trawlers. They were
approaching slowly, for the wind was still light. Before the arrival
of his superior officer the sub. realized that the mischief he
anticipated might be consummated.
"Where is your captain?" he shouted.
The babel ceased. One German, a petty officer, knew how to speak
English after a fashion.
"He kapitan Schluk he dead," he replied.
"The senior officer, then?"
There was a movement on deck. Some of the men bawled down the
hatchway. After some delay a fat, fair-haired sub-lieutenant
appeared. Being unable to speak or understand English the new arrival
made use of the petty officer as an interpreter.
"Do I understand that you surrender?" demanded Terence.
"Yes; if our lives are spared," answered the German officer through
the medium of the interpreter.
"Very good; I accept your surrender on conditions," agreed Terence,
speaking deliberately, and with a stern, menacing tone in his voice.
"Your craft must be given up exactly in its present condition. If
any attempt be made to open the valves no quarter will be given."
It went against his sense of honour to speak in this strain. He knew
perfectly well that, happen what may, quarter would not be denied
these modern pirates. But experience taught him that on more than one
occasion a German submarine had surrendered to a British vessel, and
as soon as the crew was safe, the ballast tanks would be deliberately
flooded to let the boat sink for good and all, so that the secret of
their construction should not be revealed to the hated English.
Consequently he was not surprised when the German officer, on hearing
the conditions, made a gesture of defiance and disappeared below.
Before many seconds had passed the crippled submarine began to sink
deeper and deeper in the water. The survivors of her crew, now
animated by the example of their young officer, lined up,
bare-headed, and joining hands burst into the words of "Deutschland
uber alles." One brawny, yellow-haired man produced a German ensign
lashed to a boat-hook stave, and held it defiantly aloft. It was
perhaps fortunate that they did not attempt to use the still intact
quick-firer, otherwise Terence might have been compelled to put his
empty threat into execution.
The end was not long in coming. The slight reserve of buoyancy of the
submarine was quickly destroyed by the inrush of water, both through
the valves and through the huge rent in the base of the
conning-tower.
The water mounted to the knees of the double line of men. Still
singing they looked death in the face. Then with a sudden lurch that
threw the ranks into complete disorder, the submarine plunged.
"Deutschland uber alles" trailed away into a grim silence, broken by
the rush of water and the hiss of escaping air.
The next instant the submarine was lost to sight, taking with her the
resolute sub-lieutenant, whose devotion to the Kaiser had out-weighed
his conscience in the matter of the utter disregard of international
law.
There was still life to be saved. More than a score of the German
crew were swimming strongly.
"Out with the boats!" shouted the master of the "Asphodel."
A dozen willing hands helped to launch the hefty boat which was
stowed bottom upwards on the trawler's deck. With a loud splash she
was thrust overboard and volunteers hastily tumbled into her. Already
the boats of the barque were heading towards the spot marked by
bobbing heads of the swimmers. The seamen knew that, but for a
fortunate change of circumstances they might be swimming for dear
life and jeered at by the crew of the submarine into the bargain but
petty spite and recriminations are not to be found in the creed of
true British seamen.
Long before the "Myrtle" and "Cinema" came up, every one of the
swimmers had been rescued, and since the crew of the barque dumped
their living cargoes into the "Asphodel," the latter's decks were
packed with humanity. Round every half-drowned German a dozen British
tars, all more or less sympathetic, were gathered, doing their utmost
to assist their foes.
"Smart shot, Mr. Aubyn," sang out the captain of the "Livingstone,"
as his temporary command shot up into the wind within easy hailing
distance. "Your gun-layer took good care not to let us have a finger
in the pie."
"We acted under your orders, sir," replied Terence.
"You did," admitted the captain, with a hearty laugh. "You did, but
you might have given the others a chip in. They hardly--why, what's
that?"
He broke off suddenly at the sound of a terrific cheer. The barque
had now gathered way. Her sails had been sheeted home. The weather
shrouds were black with men who were cheering the three trawlers with
all the force of their lungs, while aft stood the old skipper, waving
his cap with the vivacity of a schoolboy.
Considering the unusual means whereby the German submarine had been
destroyed, the necessity of keeping the incident a secret, until the
Press Bureau thought fit to dole out another morsel of information,
was most desirable. There was also another reason. The enemy must not
know of the actual circumstances, otherwise the submarines still at
large would take steps to prevent a similar surprise.
So the crews, both temporary and permanent, of the three trawlers
were mustered and sworn to secrecy, their respective naval officers
impressing upon the Brixham men the fact that, being an Admiralty
chartered vessel (this was a piece of pure bluff) they were liable to
the pains and penalties of the Naval Discipline Act, the Official
Secrets Act, and a dozen other statutes passed for the safety,
honour, and welfare of the King's dominions.
The next question was how to dispose of the prisoners. Gilroy
proposed delaying the arrival of the trawlers till after dusk and
then setting the Germans ashore under an armed guard at a remote and
unfrequented cove in the vicinity of Dartmouth; but the captain
overruled.
While the council of war was in progress the destroyer "Radimus,"
returning on her patrol work, came in sight. In answer to a signal
hoisted on the "Myrtle" the destroyer altered helm and ran down to
investigate.
Her officers and crew were good sportsmen all. Although chagrined to
find that the German submarine had been sunk almost under their
noses, and by three sailing trawlers, a type that the Admiralty
persistently deprecated as being of no service in the war, they
tendered their congratulations, in the spontaneous British way, by
giving three rousing cheers.
To the "Radimus" the prisoners were transferred, while the captain of
the "Livingstone," having drafted a report, requested the officer
commanding the destroyer to forward it with all dispatch, and at the
same time to send a wireless to the Admiralty announcing the bald
fact that another modern pirate had been sent to its last account.
Gilroy and Terence then boarded the trawler under the command of the
"Livingstone's" skipper. The latter, in spite of the success of his
ruse, looked somewhat anxious. He was not quite certain what My Lords
would think of the unofficial commissioning of the trawlers, and he
expressed his fears to his subordinates.
"Never fear, sir," remarked the lieutenant. "We'll stand by you."
"That you will not," replied the captain. "It's my pigeon. I take
the responsibility; you are under my orders."
"I don't suppose there'll be any fuss up topsides, sir," reiterated
Gilroy.
"H'm! Don't know so much about that. We've attacked a hostile craft
without displaying our colours: that's against the King's
regulations----"
"But we've sent a far worse transgressor to the bottom, sir,"
interrupted Gilroy. "After all, that's the main thing."
"I suppose so," admitted his superior. "And we've done all we can to
impress upon the men the urgency of official reticence and reserve."
So it happened that just before four in the afternoon the three
trawlers entered Brixham Harbour, and, amidst the wild and erroneous
conjectures of the inhabitants of that little Devonshire town, the
naval men landed and went aboard the "Livingstone," whose engine-room
staff had kept steam raised during the absence of their comrades.
Half an hour later the destroyer put to sea to resume her interrupted
patrol duties.
But, somewhat unfortunately, the carefully laid plans of the skipper
of the "Livingstone" went awry. The third hand of the "Myrtle" had a
wife. The wife was an excellent cook and studied her man's weakness
for the fleshpots of Glorious Devon. Moreover, she had a small cask
of prime cider in her cottage, and Dick Ottery, the third hand, was
very partial to the juice of the apple. Mrs. Ottery had a knack of
extracting information from her spouse, and curiosity prompted her to
question him as he fed and drank. Before the delayed meal was over,
Mrs. Ottery knew as much as her husband.
At Brixham, like many other British towns, men had gone either to the
Front or else to adventure themselves on the High Seas; and a
committee of well-meaning ladies had volunteered to do this, that,
and the other for the wives of the absent warriors.
That same evening one of the committee paid a visit to Ottery's
cottage, where his sister-in-law lived since the day when her husband
shouldered his kit-bag and went to report himself at Devonport as a
Naval Reservist.
Mrs. Ottery, unable to keep the startling news of the sinking of the
German submarine, told full details and embellished them with highly
imaginative extras to the lady visitor. "Of course," she added, "it
be quite a secret, my man du say."
Half an hour later the committee heard the news, also in strict
confidence, with the result that when the "Livingstone" put into
Portland to replenish her stock of oil-fuel the news of the exploit
preceded her.
Magnified out of all proportion by the little additions it had gained
in being passed from mouth to mouth, the latest version was to the
effect that "the crew of H.M.T.B.D. 'Livingstone,' having been
compelled to take to their boats owing to their vessel being
torpedoed, were rescued by a Brixham trawler. They thereupon rammed
three German submarines, sinking them with all hands."
"Absolutely without foundation," was the Press Bureau's comment, but
people in the know winked solemnly. It was significant that the
captain of the "Livingstone" was appointed to the command of a
light-cruiser; that Lieutenant Gilroy was promoted to the rank of
lieutenant-commander, and that Sub-Lieutenant Terence Aubyn, N.R.,
blossomed out into a lieutenant.