CAPTURING A SUBMARINE
Nothing more was said until Frank and the naval officer were once more
aboard the fishing vessel. Then, as the boat ran down the coast, Frank
related his experiences of the past two days.
"Holy men!" chuckled the lieutenant-commander. "It'll be sacrilege,
then. After this war I shall cruise about the world in search of a
German with a sense of humour. You say you know that fellow?"
"Yes, and I've a bone to pick with him. He nearly did me out of a
carpet."
"Oh! How was that?"
Frank told as much as he cared to of the incident in Erzerum. The naval
officer laughed.
"It was amusing, certainly, until the ruffian had me locked up," said
Frank.
And then, bit by bit, his companion drew from him the details upon which
he had kept silence.
"I wish we had a Ruhleben in England," growled the officer. "Our
prisoners have too easy a time. But this Wonckhaus shall have an
opportunity of cultivating holiness in an English prison, and I hope he
won't like it."
Presently he went forward, and sent a few flashes seaward from a lantern
carefully screened from the shore. There were answering flashes out at
sea. In half an hour a destroyer loomed up out of the darkness. The
lieutenant-commander went aboard with Frank and the seamen, and the
fishing vessel was made fast to a hawser from the stern. There was a
brief conference on deck.
"That's all right then," said the officer. "Now, my dear chap, you must
be dead tired. Tumble below. I'll wake you when I want you."
While Frank slept, the destroyer ran slowly up the gulf. He awoke at a
touch.
"Sorry to disturb you so soon, but you must come up."
Frank rose sleepily and went on deck. The destroyer was moving dead
slow.
"We're on a course parallel with the shore," said the officer. "Just
keep your eye lifting over the port quarter, will you?"
Frank did as he was instructed. In a minute or two he saw two dim
lights on shore, which vanished almost immediately.
"The question is, are they the lights of a farmhouse, or somewhere in
the channel?" said the officer.
"It's late for a farmhouse."
"Exactly. Wait a little. Keep looking out."
The vessel stopped, then moved slowly backward. The lights appeared
again.
"Now I'll tell you my inference," the officer went on. "From your
description of the place, lights in the bungalow or the huts could not
be seen from the sea. But lights placed somewhere on the cliffs at the
end of the channel could be seen as we pass across the mouth, and only
then; a movement of a few yards forward or astern will shut them off. I
take it, then, that the lights are in fact at the inner end of the
channel--and we know why."
"I haven't any doubt of it," said Frank.
"Then go below and get into your own toggery. You may then sleep
another hour or two."
About two hours after midnight Frank was again awakened. With the
lieutenant-commander, a lieutenant, a warrant-officer, and two sturdy
seamen in addition to the boat's crew, he got into the fishing vessel,
which cast off and stood in towards the shore. The destroyer steamed
away out to sea. The officers were armed with revolvers, the men with
rifles.
It was about two hours before dawn when the party landed from the dinghy
at the spot on the beach where the matting showed up darkly against the
sand. Placing himself at the head, Frank led the way up through the
trees, the rest following about a yard apart. They marched in perfect
silence; not a word was uttered. Every now and then as they penetrated
the dark woodland Frank halted. The officer next to him touched him on
the shoulder, the next touched him in turn, and so on along the line
until all were accounted for. The necessity of caution made their
progress slow, and they took more than an hour to cover ground which
Frank alone had traversed in twenty minutes. Then they stopped, and lay
down in the wood to await the dawn.
According to Frank's calculation it was about seven miles from their
landing-place to the bungalow by the road, possibly a little shorter
distance along the cliffs. But they would gain nothing in time by
taking the shorter way, owing to the denseness of the woodland. To
proceed along the road would almost certainly be fatal, for unfrequented
though it was, no one could say that some member of the Turko-German
party, or some messenger from a distance, might not happen to pass on an
errand, and the sight of eight men in British uniform would give the
game away. As soon as a glimmer of daylight filtered through the
foliage, therefore, Frank led them on as close to the shore as possible.
During their pause they had taken the opportunity to eat some bread and
cheese they had brought with them.
"There won't be time for breakfast in the bungalow," murmured Frank with
a smile.
The way along the cliffs proved unexpectedly arduous, and it was past
midday when they arrived at the outer fence, at a spot not far distant
from where Frank had first encountered it. Here the warrant officer
went forward, cut the wire in two places, and, when the party had passed
through, joined the severed ends in such a way that they could be
readily loosened, though only a close examination would discover what
had been done. Once more Frank took the lead, following his scarcely
distinguishable track of two days before. Leaving the rest of the party
among the trees, he went on alone until he reached the live fence, and
having enlarged the small excavation through which he had wriggled, he
crept to his hiding-place on the bank of the stream to observe what was
going on at the bungalow and the pool.
Things were apparently very much as when he left nearly twenty-four
hours before. There was one new feature in the scene. A rough country
cart stood in front of one of the huts, and two Turks--one of them the
victim of German discipline--were unloading it and carrying the stores
into the hut. No driver was visible, and Frank remembered that the
country people were not allowed to come within the fence. At the gate,
then, must be at least one man on guard. A man crossed between the
bungalow and the adjacent hut: probably he was cook and servant to the
officers. The engine-man sat on an upturned tub, smoking, and
exercising his German wit on the labouring Turks. A look-out was
perched on his platform in the tree, peering through a telescope. No
doubt the officers were in the bungalow, possibly sleeping after a
wakeful night. The whole party appeared to consist of eight men--a
small force considering the importance of their duties; but Frank
reflected that a larger force would have endangered the precious secret
they were guarding.
To him, of course, it was a secret no longer. This secluded pool had
been chosen, with admirable judgment, as the base of one of the German
submarines which had lately been mischievous in the AEgean. It was
probably the very submarine whose periscope he had caught a rapid
glimpse of at Panderma. Wonckhaus had been put in charge of the base,
no doubt because the injury to his leg had temporarily unfitted him for
the heavy work required of the German infantry officer. He had expected
the vessel to run in on the previous night, until the telegraph wire
brought news that enemy torpedo boats were watching in the gulf. That
it had not arrived was clear at a glance. The only vessel in the pool
was the lighter, and Frank suspected that the packages he had seen
lowered into it contained supplies for the submarine crew, and had been
removed from the hut for greater facility in transferring them to the
war vessel. The "holy men," to do them justice, did not consume the
whole of the immense consignments which had amazed the Turkish carrier.
The object with which the small British party had come to this secret
spot was nothing less than the capture of the submarine. As a
preliminary to that they must seize the settlement and its inhabitants,
a feat for which the seven British seamen who had come under his
guidance should be amply competent. They had four Germans, trained men,
to deal with; three Turks, of whom one was an officer, the two others
menials; and the servant, whose nationality Frank did not know; he might
be a Levantine, and of no account. With the advantage of surprise and of
British daring and discipline the task of the adventurous eight should
be easy enough. The one essential condition of success was that none of
the German's party should get away. The escape of a single man might
ruin the enterprise.
Frank waited some time at his post of observation, to make sure that his
estimate of the number of the enemy was accurate. He saw the last load
carried from the cart to the hut; it was a nine-gallon cask of beer;
then one of the Turks mounted, and drove off down the road. As soon as
he no longer heard the rumbling of the wheels, Frank hastened back to
his friends.
"I thought you were never coming," said the lieutenant-commander. "Is
she there?"
"No. Evidently she couldn't get through."
"I didn't think she would, but I'm glad to be sure of it, for we
couldn't have tackled the whole crew. Why were you so long?"
Frank gave the result of his observations. The officers smiled happily.
"Now then," said the lieutenant-commander, "the first thing is to raid
the bungalow, and collar the officers. They control the telegraph and
telephone. You know the place, Forester; I'll give you two of the men
to assist. They'll take their instructions from you. I'll wait until I
get a signal from you that you have done the trick, or until I hear a
row in that direction. They are sure to show fight. But I needn't say
that if you can manage it quietly, so much the better for our ultimate
success."
"I'll do my best," said Frank. "It's a good deal later than when I was
here yesterday, and I shouldn't be surprised if they're taking their
siesta."
"Very well. Now let me take my bearings. How do I steer?"
"You go straight on until you reach the stream. You'll see the place
where I have scooped a passage for you at the foot of one of the posts
supporting the wire. The men must be careful, or they'll be
electrocuted."
"I'll see to that."
"You cross the stream, turn to the left, cut along the bank--and there
you are."
"Perfectly clear sailing directions. But what about the road?"
"Cross that: you can slip along among the trees. Better keep a look-out
for the Turk who went down with the cart. He'll be coming back
presently, with the German seaman who I suspect was on guard at the
gate."
"You'll be a staff-officer some day, my friend. Well, it's all clear.
We'll arrange our plans: you had better cut off. Here, Moggs and
Parker, you're under Mr. Forester's orders."
Two strapping seamen jumped up and saluted. One of them hitched up his
breeches and spat on his hands.
"Good luck, then," said the lieutenant-commander.
Frank nodded, smiled, and led the men along the route he had followed
the previous day to the timber stack at the rear of the bungalow. On
the way he halted for a few minutes to explain in general terms what his
purpose was, and to impress on them the need of absolute silence. When
he reached the trees, he left them there under cover, to await his
signal. Then he stole forward alone.
There was no sound except the servant moving about in the kitchen part
of the building. He peeped through a chink in the wall of the verandah.
No one was in view, but he now heard a succession of snores and grunts
from somewhere in the interior. Turning, he beckoned to the seamen to
join him. They came swiftly on tiptoe, screened from the look-out in
the tree-top, not far away to their left, by the row of trees that
almost overhung the bungalow.
Frank signed to them to stoop and follow him. Bending low, he crept
along below the verandah, stopped for a moment to peep into a room, and
finding that it was a bedroom and empty, led them on towards the
kitchen. This, too, a glance showed to be unoccupied. But the servant
must be near at hand, for Frank heard the splashing of water and the
clatter of crockery. He must be washing up.
Moving still more cautiously, Frank came to the corner of the building.
He looked round. Just outside the door a young sallow-hued oriental was
washing up in a trough. Frank stole back to his men.
"Parker, you'll come with me," he whispered. "I'll leave you here,
Moggs, to watch that fellow. If you hear a row inside the building,
collar him and keep him quiet. But don't move otherwise unless I call
you."
"Ay, ay, sir."
Followed by Parker, he went to the French window of the empty bedroom,
gently forced the catch with his clasp knife, and entered. Tiptoeing
across it, he passed out of the open door, into a short passage. From
the left he heard the faint sounds of the cook's movements: the kitchen
was in that direction. On the right, a few steps along, light fell
across the passage from an open door. Frank stole up to this and peeped
in. It was another bedroom, like the first unoccupied. Almost opposite
this was a closed door; there was no other door on either side or at the
end. This must be the sitting-room, parlour or sanctum of the holy men.
Muffled by the timber, there came through the door the sound of snoring
he had heard outside. He listened for a moment. The snores were all in
one tone: it appeared likely that he had only one man to deal with. Was
it Wonckhaus or the Turk? Or perhaps Wonckhaus was sleeping, and the
other man admiring him.
He drew his revolver, very gently turned the handle of the door, and
looked in when the crack was wide enough. The room had only one
occupant. Wonckhaus, big, ungainly, lay stretched in a long cane chair,
his head lolling sideways, his mouth wide open, one arm hanging limp, a
long German pipe held loosely in the other hand. On a small round table
beside him were a tobacco-jar, a black bottle, and a glass. Beyond this
was another long chair, beside which stood a stool, bearing a glass, a
carafe of water, and a few small pale lemons. And the room rang with
German snores.
Frank's eye, swiftly ranging the room, passed from the lemons to the
open mouth. It was a happy chance. He turned to Parker at his elbow and
whispered a few words. The man nodded. Then Frank opened the door, and
stole on his toes round the back of Wonckhaus's chair to the stool.
From this he took up a lemon about the size of a hen's egg, and with the
quickness of a conjurer slipped it into the gaping mouth. The German
awoke with a convulsive start and shudder--and his eyes, bleared with
sleep, fell on a revolver pointed within six inches of his temple, and
above it the face, a little grimmer than it had ever appeared in a
photograph, of the man whom he had not seen for many weeks, even in his
dreams.
Before he could collect his wits, Parker stepped up to him on the other
side and with some ends of thin rope which he had taken from his
capacious blouse tied the German's hands and feet, with a British
seaman's quickness and thoroughness.
"Now for the cook," said Frank.
They went back into the passage. The cook was still washing up.
Entering the kitchen noiselessly, they crept to the door. Frank made a
sign, Parker rushed out, caught the unsuspicious servant by the throat,
and in two minutes had laid him, gagged and trussed, just inside the
kitchen door. It was a credit to the discipline of the British navy
that Moggs, watching these proceedings with amazement round the corner,
neither moved nor uttered a sound.
It was now time to bring up the rest of the party, who, he guessed, had
by this time reached a point from which he could be seen if he moved a
few yards from the bungalow towards the hut opposite. But in making
this movement he would be seen also from the tree-top. The look-out
must be prevented from giving the alarm. Frank showed the seamen how
they might approach the tree from the rear unperceived, and ordered them
to make the man their prisoner. When that was done he would give the
expected signal to the others.
The seamen had only just disappeared among the trees when Frank was
startled by the sound of a horse cantering up the road towards the
bungalow. Running to the window of the room facing the road, he saw
that the horseman was the Turkish officer who had been with Wonckhaus
two days before. It seemed that the naval party had not yet arrived, or
they would certainly have intercepted the Turk.
Frank weighed the chances of tackling this opponent alone, and quickly
made up his mind. With two of the enemy already accounted for, and a
third, the look-out, soon to be helpless, the noise of a struggle would
bring up the rest of his party before the remaining four men could
interfere to his harm. He waited within the room. The Turk reined up
and dismounted at the door, and walked in unsuspiciously. At this
moment there was a shout from the direction of the look-out tree, and
the officer turned quickly and ran out into the open. Frank sprang
after him. The Turk heard his footsteps and faced round, not rapidly
enough to brace himself for the shock of Frank's sudden onset. He was
hurled to the ground, shouting an alarmed call for Wonckhaus.
[Illustration: A CRITICAL MOMENT]
Though taken by surprise, the Turk proved to be a more formidable
antagonist than Frank had expected. His frame was well-knit and sinewy,
and he held Frank in a fierce grapple. They heaved and rolled on the
ground, each struggling desperately to throw off the grip of the other.
In less than a minute Frank was aware that the contest, if fought out,
must be a long one. By a sudden convulsive twist, indeed, the Turk had
managed to reverse the positions and get above him. There were shouts
near at hand, and the sound of running feet. Frank feared that the
Germans were coming to the officer's help, and wrestled vigorously to
regain the upper hand. Just as he felt that his opponent was weakening,
the Turk suddenly relaxed his grip wholly and fell over. Springing up,
Frank found that one of the seamen from the lieutenant-commander's party
had run ahead of the rest, and finished the struggle with the butt of
his rifle.
Meanwhile the officers and the rest of the men had been busy at the
huts. The few inmates, alarmed at the shouts, had started to run
towards the bungalow, but came to a sudden stop when, on the other side
of the buildings, they saw five British naval men charging in the same
direction. They hesitated, paralysed by surprise; and when the
lieutenant-commander rushed up with drawn revolver and called on them to
surrender, they yielded without a show of resistance, and were soon
prisoners in their own huts.
"Where's Wonckhaus?" were the lieutenant-commander's first words as he
joined Frank at the bungalow.
"Come and see."
He led him into the room where Wonckhaus lay bound in his chair, the
lemon still wedged between his teeth. The naval officer concealed a
smile.
"Perhaps the gentleman would prefer some beer," he said. "Remove that
plug, Simpson," he added to the warrant officer, indicating the lemon.
"Give the major some beer, and then lock him in his bedroom. We shall
want this room."
Wonckhaus glared at Frank with unspeakable hate, but uttered no word.
When he had been removed, the warrant officer went to see what had
become of Moggs and Parker, and met them returning in high feather with
their prisoner. The look-out had caught sight of them just as they
reached the tree, and given the shout which had alarmed the Turkish
officer. But seeing himself immediately covered by the sailor's rifles
he had surrendered at once. The place was won, and all its personnel
disposed of.
Having ordered his men to prepare dinner from the bungalow's abundant
stores, the lieutenant-commander with his second and Frank sat down to
discuss the more difficult problem--the capture of the submarine.
"Our only chance is if it comes in to-night," said the
lieutenant-commander. "As it was expected last night, it is pretty
certain to come to-night, and our ships have ostentatiously cleared off.
If it doesn't come, we are done, for we can't remain here undiscovered
for another day."
"Why not?" asked the lieutenant.
"Well, apart from possible visits from Germans or Turks, there's the
telegraph. A message is sure to come through, and it will be in Turkish
probably. It was the Turk who took the message when you were here
before, Forester?"
"Yes."
"Very well. You can work the telegraph, Bickford, but you don't know
Turkish. Forester knows Turkish, but----"
"I can't work the telegraph," said Frank.
"Then if we are called up we must simply ignore the call. That will
lead to investigation and discovery. There's my proposition proved. We
must help the submarine to come in to-night. Where are those lights
worked?"
"Let's go and see," said Frank.
After no long search two electric lamps, fed from the dynamo that
charged the fence wire, were discovered in the cliff opposite the centre
of the channel. They were so placed as to give a straight course to any
vessel coming up from the sea. Another lamp, invisible from the sea,
marked the entrance to the pool. It was decided to switch on the
current at dusk.
To guard against trouble on the landward side, two seamen were stationed
in hiding near the gate of the inner fence, which was left open. If
anyone should approach, he was to be allowed to pass in; but the gate
was then to be closed, cutting off his retreat. For safety's sake, the
electric current was switched off from the fence.
It was now about four o'clock. The lights would not need to be shown
till nearly seven. There were three hours for rest and for recruiting
their strength from Wonckhaus's larder. The officers hastened back to
see what sort of a meal had been provided for them. It beggared their
most hopeful expectation. There were pork cutlets--"the place is all
pig, sir," remarked the extempore cook--several kinds of sausage, many
varieties of pickle and relish, pots of caviare and pate de foie gras,
smoked salmon, a mellow gruyere cheese, as well as a very strong German
cheese which the lieutenant-commander ordered to be removed immediately,
tinned fruits, good white bread--"none of your potato flour for
Wonckhaus"--and oceans of beer. Neither officers nor men had had such a
meal for months.
"Please, sir," said Moggs, coming to the bungalow after the men had
finished their dinner in the hut opposite.
"Well, what is it?"
"Can we strafe some more beer?"
"No, you've had enough. We've got work to do to-night."
Moggs looked disappointed.
"Then it won't be done, sir," he said.
"What won't be done?"
"Why, sir, Parker said if we was allowed to strafe another barrel he'd
be screwed up to concert pitch, and would be very happy to sing the Hymn
of Hate to the German gentleman abaft yonder. He must want cheering up,
says he."
"Get out with you! Parker can sing what he likes when we get back
aboard. Tell him he's to take first watch on the cliff to-night."
At dusk the men went to their appointed stations. Parker was posted on
the cliff near the entrance to the channel. The warrant officer took
charge of the donkey-engine, Moggs was entrusted with the crane; the
other men hauled from the storehouse several cases of ammunition,
weighing in all three or four tons, piled them near the crane, chained
them together, and covered them with a thick blanket taken from the
bungalow. The lieutenant's task was to do what was necessary in the
powerhouse. Frank sat with the lieutenant-commander in one of the huts.
It was about ten o'clock when Parker came in hurriedly from his post on
the cliff.
"Submarine coming in, sir," he reported. "I heard her purring under
water first; then the engines stopped, and I saw her come awash just
outside the channel. She'll be nearly here, sir."
The officers went to the door of the hut, and listened anxiously. No
sound was audible above the dash of the waterfall. Had the commander of
the submarine become suspicious and run out to sea again? In a few
minutes, however, the sound of the engines came faintly on the breeze.
Looking through the darkness to the gap in the cliffs where the pool and
the channel met, they at last saw the dark shape glide in. The engines
were stopped, but the vessel's steerage way carried her into the pool,
and she was brought up deftly alongside the lighter.
From below came a hail in Turkish. Frank, now standing beside the crane,
replied.
"Why didn't you answer our signals?" demanded the voice, huffily.
Frank, who was unaware of any signals, answered at a venture:
"There is something wrong with our lamps."
"Who are you? Where is Talik?"
"He is invalided. I am taking his place. Are you coming up?"
"Yes. Why isn't Major Wonckhaus here?"
"He'll be here directly."
"Well, switch on the light: what are you waiting for?"
"The switch is broken." Frank referred to the switch of an electric
lamp at the top of the crane. "You must come up in the dark. Look out!
The chain is running out."
The engine had started, and the chain was swinging down over the arm of
the crane. The commander of the submarine caught it, set his foot in
the loop provided, and was hauled slowly up, and swung inward towards
the huts. Meanwhile the men in waiting had removed the blanket from the
pile of cases, and the moment the commander's feet touched the ground he
was muffled closely in the blanket, and carried struggling into a hut,
where his captors had materials ready for securing him.
"Good man!" murmured the lieutenant-commander, clapping Frank on the
back. "With him out of the way all's well, I think. Now, I'll take up
the running.--Look alive with those cases," he added, still in a low
tone, addressing the seamen who were attaching the massed cases to the
end of the chain. The crane swung out, and the weighty mass dangled
directly over the submarine, on whose deck the crew could be dimly seen,
gazing up in surprise: surely they were not to take in ammunition at
this hour of the night. How much greater was their astonishment when
they heard from above a ringing voice in English.
"Below there! Any of you speak English?"
After a short interval a man replied in the affirmative.
"Thank you," called the lieutenant-commander. "I am in command of an
English landing-party. Your commander is a prisoner. If your vessel
attempts to move, I'll cut away the weight you see above you, and sink
you. I give you three minutes to surrender."
The terse sentences, the peremptory tone, left no room for doubt.
Before the three minutes were up, the crew had come to a unanimous
decision. They would surrender.
"Thank you. Now every one of you go aboard the lighter and leave your
arms behind."
The men went silently from one vessel to the other. Then the crane
switch was suddenly found to be in order, and a light flashed from the
top. From the lighter the men were hauled up by ropes, one by one.
"How many are there of you?" asked the lieutenant-commander of the
first.
"Twenty."
The same question put to one or two more received the same reply. As
the men passed him, the officer counted them.
"Eighteen! Nineteen! No more?" He turned to two British sailors.
"Down you go!"
They slid down the rope, boarded the submarine, and dived below. In a
few moments they returned, hauling a man between them. They made him
fast to the chain, and by the time he was hoisted they had swarmed up
the rope.
"Just going to fire the magazine, sir," said one.
"Tie him up."
Half an hour later the submarine was heading out to sea, running on the
surface. On the deck, uncomfortably crowded, lay a number of
well-trussed figures--the commander and crew, and Wonckhaus: his
subordinates at the station were left behind. Beyond Mitylene, as
morning dawned, the lieutenant-commander exchanged signals with a
destroyer out at sea. The vessel stood in, and in due time the
submarine came alongside her. Cheers broke from the men on her deck.
Willing hands hoisted the prisoners on board and loosed them from their
bonds at the bidding of the commander.
"I much regret it was necessary to bind you, gentlemen," he said to the
officers. "The necessity was clear."
They heard him in glum silence--all but Wonckhaus.
"Necessity!" he blustered. "Is necessity to override the laws of
civilised warfare? What sort of treatment is it to choke a German
officer with lemons, tie him up, and sling him from a crane? It is
unfair; it is barbarous."
The commander glanced at Frank, standing in the background.
"Is it wise to talk of civilised warfare, Herr Wonckhaus?" he said
quietly, stepping forward. "Shall I refresh your memory of what
happened at Erzerum?"
"You were in my power," snarled the German, not a whit abashed, and
sublimely unconscious of inconsistency. The humour of the situation
tickled the British officers: they laughed aloud.
"That is unanswerable, sir," said the commander, with ironical courtesy.
"You will no doubt do me the favour to go below. Mr. Watson, please show
Major Wonckhaus the way."
The smallest midshipman on the ship came forward, gravely saluted, and
repressing a smile with obvious effort, said:
"This way, sir."
Wonckhaus looked from the midshipman to the commander. Something in the
expression of the latter helped him to make up his mind. And a broad
grin enwrapped the whole ship's company as the big German stalked away
under convoy of the boy.