"LIEUTENANT AUBYN, R.N., D.S.O."
ON the evening following the return of the "Sunderland" to Dover,
Terence obtained leave to go ashore in order to visit a
brother-officer who, owing to his ship being under repairs, was
temporarily installed in the Lord Warden Hotel.
Aubyn was proceeding along the Admiralty Pier when his progress was
barred by a tall, bronzed young fellow in the uniform of a
flight-lieutenant of the Naval Air Service.
"Hullo, Aubyn, old man!" exclaimed the latter cordially, as he
extended his hand. "Forgotten me already?"
"Waynsford, by Jove!" ejaculated Terence. "Bless you, Dick, I never
expected to see you here and in this rig. What has happened?"
"Oh, I chucked the Motor Boat Reserve," declared Waynsford. "It was a
bit too dull. They sent me to Southampton, and that was the limit. A
superannuated postman could have done my job, which was delivering
letters to transports. So I applied for the Naval Air Service. It's
more in my line."
"Been across yet?" asked Terence, indicating the twenty odd mile
strip of water that separated Great Britain from the scene of land
hostilities.
"Dunkirk twice," replied Waynsford. "Was there when the Germans
started shelling the place. But we're off again early to-morrow
morning."
"Yes, I heard," said Aubyn. "Big operations. We are to engage the
Zeebrugge and Ostend batteries while the Allied airmen play with the
German lines of communication. So I may see something of you."
"I hope so--after the fun is over," replied the young airman. "Well,
I must be moving. Early hours and a good night's rest are essential
to this sort of work."
The two friends parted, Terence making for the hotel, while Waynsford
walked off in the direction of the castle, in which the airmen
detailed for the great raid were temporarily quartered.
Precisely at one hour before sunrise the first British waterplane
rose from the surface of Dover Harbour. Almost simultaneously an Army
aeroplane "kicked off" from the sloping ground beyond the chalk
cliffs. Each was followed at regular intervals, until a double row of
swift air-craft flying with methodical precision headed towards the
Flanders shore.
Already the "Sunderland" and three other light cruisers, accompanied
by a torpedo-boat destroyer flotilla, were shaping a course for the
Belgian coast.
Off the East Goodwins they were joined by two monitors and three
pre-Dreadnought battleships, and the battle line was formed. Away
steamed the destroyers to act as screens to the heavier vessels, and
to guard them from submarine attack. The monitors led the main
division, the cruisers acting as links between them and the
battleships, which, owing to their greater draught, could not
approach the coast nearer than a distance of from four to seven
miles.
From Aubyn's point of view the forthcoming operations were entirely
new. For the first time in his experience he was to take part in an
action between ships and shore batteries, the latter being both fixed
and mobile. It was a comparatively easy matter to plant shells into
forts the position of which were known, but the Germans had brought
up heavy guns mounted on travelling platforms, which could be moved
with considerable celerity behind the long, low-lying sand dunes
between Nieuport and Zeebrugge.
It was partly to locate the latter that the airmen had preceded the
bombarding ships, and also to harass the enemy's lines of
communication. Moreover, hostile submarines were reported to have
been brought in sections to Zeebrugge, where they were being bolted
together ready to take the offensive against the British vessels
operating off the Belgian coast.
The "Sunderland," like her consorts, was already cleared for action.
All the crew were behind the protected portions of the ship, but the
captain and seven of the officers elected to fight the ship not from
the armoured conning-tower but from the fore-bridge.
"By Jove! They're at it already," exclaimed Oswestry, as a series of
rapid detonations came from across the dunes.
By the aid of their glasses the officers could discern the fleecy
mushrooms of smoke caused by the bursting of the anti-aerial guns
directed against the British airmen. Viewed from a distance it seemed
impossible that a frail aeroplane could exist amid that tornado of
shell.
"Wireless reports mobile battery three hundred yards sou'-sou'-east
of Clemskercke church, sir," reported a signalman.
Promptly the news was transmitted to the fire-control platform. In
his lofty perch a gunnery-lieutenant was busy with a complication of
instruments, assisted by a midshipman and three seamen.
"Fire-control to for'ard 6-inch gun: stand by!" came the telephonic
order. "Fire-control to port battery stand by."
Round swung the guns, "laid" by the master hand of the
gunnery-lieutenant on the fire-control platform. Docilely obedient to
the delicate mechanism they reared their muzzles high in the air.
Then, with a crash that shook the ship, five of the 6-inch guns spoke
simultaneously. To the accompaniment of a long-drawn shriek the
100-pound missiles hurtled through space.
"Eighty yards short," came the wireless report of the observing
seaplane that, hovering a bare five hundred feet above the German
mobile battery, had marked the point of impact of the shells.
Again a salvo was let loose. This time came the encouraging statement
that the hostile guns were knocked clean out of action, and that
swarms of artillerymen and infantry were scurrying across the dunes.
The next discharge practically annihilated the fugitives. In one
minute and twenty-five seconds the "Sunderland's" particular task was
accomplished. It was but the beginning, for acting upon orders from
the flagship she was ordered to engage a battery at close range.
Meanwhile, the rest of the battleships and cruisers had not been
idle. A perfect tornado of shell was being directed upon the Belgian
shore.
"Hard aport!" shouted the captain of the "Sunderland."
Round swung the cruiser, only just avoiding the tell-tale line of
bubbles that marked the track of a torpedo. With consummate daring a
German submarine had dived under a part of the torpedo-boat destroyer
flotilla, and had discharged a weapon at the British cruiser. The
torpedo, having missed the "Sunderland," was tearing straight for one
of the monitors, which, having to go full speed astern to avoid a
collision with a couple of damaged destroyers, was now practically
stationary.
Owing to the light draught the weapon passed six feet beneath her
keel, and finishing its run rose to the surface three hundred yards
beyond; for, instead of the torpedo sinking at the end of its course,
the Germans, in direct contravention of the laws of naval warfare,
had closed the sinking valve so that the torpedo virtually became a
floating mine.
In this instance the trick did not avail, for a well-directed shot
from one of the monitor's quick-firers exploded the war-head and sent
the missile into a thousand fragments.
"A feeble reply," observed Oswestry to Terence. "These fellows seem
afraid to stand to their guns."
Even as he spoke the air was torn by a terrific salvo of shells from
powerful batteries hitherto well concealed in the dunes. The
"Sunderland," being fairly close, seemed the special mark, for in six
seconds she received as many direct hits. One of her funnels showed a
jagged gash ten feet in length and was only prevented from toppling
overboard by the steel-wire guys. A three-pounder gun, that
fortunately was not manned, was blown completely from its mountings,
while the rest of the shells passed clean through the unprotected
parts of the ship, totally wrecking the ward-room and the stokers'
mess-deck.
Terence felt a strong desire to make a hasty rush for the shelter of
the conning-tower, for splinters were flying and wafts of pungent
smoke from the hostile shells were drifting over the bridge, but the
sight of his captain standing cool and collected and without a
vestige of protection tended to restore his confidence.
With unabated fury her guns replied to the German fire. The
"Sunderland" proved that she could receive as well as give hard
knocks.
It was time to give the almost overheated starboard guns a chance to
cool, so orders were given for the helm to be starboarded. Seeing the
cruiser in the act of turning, a destroyer tore across her bows,
purposely throwing out huge volumes of black smoke from her four
funnels in order to mask the "Sunderland" as she circled.
Terence recognized the destroyer as his old ship the "Livingstone,"
as she darted swiftly round the turning cruiser, then, leaving a
thick pall of smoke in her wake, hastened off to assist another
destroyer that was evidently in difficulties.
The "Livingstone's" manoeuvre undoubtedly saved the "Sunderland" from
destruction, for a fifty-two centimetre shell, aimed to hit the exact
position where the cruiser would have been had she not altered
course, struck the water with a tremendous splash not fifty yards on
her beam.
Before the "Sunderland" had drawn clear of the friendly cloud of
smoke she had increased her distance from shore by nearly five
cables' lengths; while, until the German gunners had found the range
anew, she was able to enjoy a brief respite.
"Seaplanes returning," announced the gunnery-lieutenant on the
fire-control platform, who from his elevated post could command a
wide and almost uninterrupted view.
Their task done, the seaplanes, which had been engaged in dropping
bombs on the railway stations in the rear of the German batteries,
were on their homeward way. Anxiously Terence counted them. Thank
heaven! Not one was missing.
Apparently the last but one of the aerial procession was in
difficulties, for the seaplane was rocking violently, and in spite of
a dangerous tilt of the elevating planes was appreciably descending.
Suddenly the frail craft plunged, literally on end, towards the sea,
the force of gravity, acting with the pull of the propeller, greatly
increasing its velocity.
When within two hundred feet of the surface the seaplane made a
complete loop, then after climbing a hundred feet or so, began to
side-slip.
"By Jove! He'll be drowned for a dead cert," exclaimed Terence, for
he knew for a fact that the aviator had not been thrown from the
chassis when the seaplane "looped the loop," and in consequence must
be strapped to his seat.
"Away sea-boat," ordered the captain, at the same time giving
directions for both engines to be reversed.
The "Sunderland" was considerably the nearest warship to the
descending airman. Already the "Livingstone" and her two sister-ship
destroyers were a mile or so away, and wearing at full speed to
investigate a suspicious swirl in the water.
Shells were again dropping unpleasantly near to the cruiser as Aubyn
hurried towards the boat which was, owing to being cleared for
action, secured inboard, abreast the after funnel.
Before he reached this spot the seaplane had struck the surface of
the water. Falling obliquely and at a sharp angle, the impact had
shattered one of the floats. When the cascade of spray had subsided
the wrecked craft could be seen still afloat but listing acutely. The
aviator had survived the shock and was hurriedly unbuckling the strap
that held him to his seat.
"Boat's done for, sir," announced one of the would-be crew. Such was
the case. The explosion of a shell had wrenched her keel and
garboards out of her.
"Then overboard with that!" ordered Terence, indicating a Carley
life-buoy, which, though scorched by the blast of the shells, was
still practically intact.
The Carley life-buoy is a "new departure" in life-saving appliances
on board ships of the Royal Navy. It is a glorified edition of an
ordinary buoy, but elongated in shape and provided with gratings, and
capable of being propelled by oars.
Half a dozen bluejackets seized the huge buoy and slung it overboard.
Held by means of a line it floated alongside the cruiser until
Terence and three men clambered into it.
Although the rate of propulsion was not by any means so rapid as that
of a boat the progress of the rescuers was far from slow. More than
once they were splashed by the spray thrown up by a ricochetting
projectile, as the German gunlayers were gradually correcting their
aim, yet unscathed the rescue party came alongside the gradually
sinking seaplane.
"Hullo, Aubyn!" shouted a well-known voice.
The airman was Waynsford. In his pneumatic helmet and huge goggles he
was unrecognizable, but his voice proclaimed his identity.
"Hurt, old man?" asked Terence.
"Not a bit," replied Waynsford coolly. "They clipped a couple of
stays just as I was getting out of range. But we did the trick, by
Jove! Blew the railway station to Jericho."
"Hurry up," interposed Terence. "She's going."
The young airman methodically gathered together several important
instruments, and giving a final look round at the aircraft that had
served him so faithfully, stepped into the waiting "Carley."
Before the men had pulled five yards the wrecked machine gave a lurch
and capsized completely. Supported by trapped air in the partially
intact float the seaplane sank slowly, and with hardly a ripple
disappeared from view.
With the least possible delay rescuers and rescued were taken on
board the cruiser. Gathering way the "Sunderland" steamed in a
westerly direction in order to baffle the range of the shore
batteries, using her after guns with terrific speed.
Somewhat unceremoniously leaving his friend Terence hastened towards
the bridge. Just as he was abreast of the wreckage of the shattered
funnel a deafening detonation, that completely surpassed the roar of
the cruiser's guns, seemed to burst over his head. Staggering under
the blast of the explosion and temporarily blinded by the pungent
smoke, the lieutenant groped his way until his progress was checked
by a jagged mass of plating rendered almost red-hot by the impact of
a huge shell.
Recoiling, he stood stock still for quite thirty seconds, his senses
numbed by the nerve-racking concussion. Then, as the smoke drifted
away, he could discern the débris of the bridge. Charthouse,
stanchions, semaphore, signal-lockers--all had vanished, and with
them the captain and those of the officers and men who had dared fate
by rejecting the shelter afforded by the conning-tower, which,
stripped of its surroundings, stood out a gaunt, fire-pitted steel
box.
The shell, a 42-centimetre, had literally cleared the forepart of the
ship, from the for'ard 6-inch gun to the second funnel. Everything in
its path had been literally pulverized, with the exception of the
conning-tower. Had the projectile burst on or below the main deck the
fate of the "Sunderland" would have been sealed; as it was, she was
still intact under the waterline.
Instinctively Aubyn realized that the ship was not under control.
Steaming rapidly she was heading towards the "Bradford"--her sister
ship--which was steering in a north-easterly direction at about five
cables' distance on her port bow.
With a tremendous effort of will-power Terence cleared at a bound the
formidable glowing plate of metal that obstructed his path. Making
his way across the scorched and splintered planks, some of which gave
under his weight, he reached the entrance to the conning-tower.
The steel citadel was full of acrid-smelling smoke that eddied in the
air-currents which drifted in through the observation slits.
Bending, and holding his left hand over his mouth and nostrils,
Terence entered. As he did so he stumbled over the body of the
quartermaster.
Propped against the circular walls were the first lieutenant and two
seamen. All the occupants of the conning-tower had been overcome by
the noxious fumes from the highly-charged projectile.
Gasping for fresh air Terence flung himself upon the steam-steering
gear and put the helm hard over. A glimpse through one of the slits
revealed the fact that the cruiser was answering to her helm. Yet so
narrowly had a collision been averted that the "Sunderland's"
starboard side was within twenty feet of the "Bradford's" port
quarter as the two vessels swung apart.
The guns were now silent, for with the destruction of the foremast
the fire-control platform and its occupants had been swept out of
existence. The cruiser was temporarily out of action.
Terence was beginning to feel dizzy and faint. Why, he knew not.
Perhaps it was the pungent fumes. Leaning over the mouthpiece of the
speaking tube he ordered a couple of quartermasters to be sent to the
conning-tower. He could hardly recognize the sound of his own voice.
It seemed miles away.
Again he looked ahead. The cruiser was still drawing further and
further out of range. Having satisfied himself on that score and that
there was no fresh danger of colliding with any of the rest of the
fleet, he staggered into the open air and leaned heavily against the
outer wall of the conning-tower, He was barely conscious that the
metal was still hot.
Up came the quartermasters. At their heels was a sub-lieutenant, his
face grimed with smoke and his uniform torn.
"Take over, Garboard," ordered the lieutenant brokenly. "Report to
the flagship and ask instructions. I'm feeling deucedly queer."
"Why, you're wounded!" exclaimed the sub-lieutenant, noticing a dark
and increasing patch upon Aubyn's coat.
"Am I?" asked Terence incredulously.
Turning his head to ascertain the nature of his injury, of which
hitherto he was unconscious, his shoulder slipped along the curved
steel wall. Garboard was only just in time to save him from
collapsing inertly upon the deck of the ship he had brought safely
out of action.
"Congratulations, old man. You'll have to get your tailor to make
some alteration in your uniform."
"What do you mean?" asked Terence.
Two months had elapsed since the day on which Lieutenant Aubyn had
received a dangerous wound in his right side in the fight off Ostend.
He was sitting in the grounds of the Royal Naval Hospital at Chatham,
having made a fairly rapid recovery.
The officer who offered his congratulations was Oswestry, the
torpedo-lieutenant of the "Sunderland," who was also a convalescent,
having managed to intercept a flying fragment of metal during the
momentous engagement.
"Torps" flourished a newspaper with his left hand, for his right arm
was in a sling.
"Stop press--Latest news and appointments," he read. "The Admiralty
has approved of the following transfer. From R.N.R. to R.N.:
Lieutenant Terence Aubyn, to date 3rd of June, 1915."
For a moment Terence looked incredulously at the torpedo-lieutenant.
"Torps," he knew, was fond of a practical joke, but if he were
playing a prank it was carrying the game a little too far.
"Here you are," continued Oswestry, noting the expression on
Terence's face. "Read it for yourself."
"It's worth getting this," said Aubyn, indicating the position of his
wound. "All I want now is to be afloat again."
"Young fire-eater!" exclaimed "Torps" facetiously. "Don't you
worry--you'll have a look-in before The Day comes. By Jove, Aubyn,
you'll have to ask the surgeon if he'll allow you to hold a
fête----"
The crunching of boots upon the gravel path caused both officers to
turn. Standing at attention was a Marine orderly; behind him a
telegraph boy.
"Congratulations pouring in already," remarked "Torps."
Terence took the buff envelope and opened it.
"Great Scott!" he exclaimed brokenly, and without another word he
handed the telegram to his companion.
"It never rains but it pours," quoted "Torps." "You'll attain
Flag-rank in another fifteen years, mark my words. Lieutenant Aubyn,
D.S.O."
The "wire" was a private tip from a personal friend at the Admiralty,
informing Terence that His Majesty had been graciously pleased to
bestow upon him the Distinguished Service Order for gallantry in
bringing H.M.S. "Sunderland" out of action during operations off the
Belgian coast.
"Torps" was not far short of the mark, for a D.S.O. almost invariably
means a rapid promotion to the fortunate and heroic recipient.
"Flag-rank," echoed Terence. "There's plenty of time for that.
Meanwhile, that's where duty calls," and with a wave of his hand he
indicated the distant North Sea, on which the supreme contest for the
supremacy of the waves will prove that the heritage of Nelson is
still worthily upheld by Britannia's sons.
ABERDEEN: THE UNIVERSITY PRESS
[Transcriber's Notes:
This book contains a number of misprints.
The following misprints have been corrected:
[the prisoner nonchalently.] -> [the prisoner nonchalantly.]
[to commuicate with wireless] -> [to communicate with wireless]
[was calculated to be from] -> [was calculated to be seen from]
[of what had occured,] -> [of what had occurred,]
[hostilites as a godsend] -> [hostilities as a godsend]
[a courtesey that the captain] -> [a courtesy that the captain]
[its horribly slippery] -> [it's horribly slippery]
[the concusion had caused] -> [the concussion had caused]
[with the laudible intention] -> [with the laudable intention]
[he crosssd the line] -> [he crossed the line]
[a stragetic point of view] -> [a strategic point of view]
[the faintest attenion to] -> [the faintest attention to]
A few cases of punctuation errors were corrected, but are not
mentioned here.
A list of illustrations has been added.
]
End of Project Gutenberg's A Sub. of the R.N.R., by Percy F. Westerman