As this happened over a month ago, it is disclosing no military
secret to say that the North Sea was extraordinarily calm. It was
neither raining nor sleeting nor blowing; indeed the sun was actually
visible, an alcoholic-visaged sun, glowing like a stage fire through
a frosty haze. From the cruiser that was steaming slowly ahead, with
no apparent object beyond that of killing time, the only break to be
seen in the smoky blue of the sea was the dull copper reflection on
one-half of its wake; and that somehow attracted no comment from the
man on the look-out. Bits of flotsam nevertheless, however harmlessly
flotsam, were recorded on their appearance in a penetrating mechanical
sing-song, with a strong Cockney accent, as were the occasional
glimpses of the shores of Norway.
All that could manage it were on deck, enjoying the unusual freedom
from oilskins. The captain was assuring the commander that the safest
way of avoiding a cold was to sit in a draught with a wet shirt on; a
marine was having a heated argument with a petty officer as to whether
the remnants of the German Navy would be destroyed or taken over at the
end of the War; the torpedo-lieutenant was telling the A. P. what jolly
scenery there was from here if only one could see it, and pronouncing
his conviction that it was mere beef and not real reindeer that they
had given him for lunch at the hotel up the fjord; while the A. P.
was mentally calculating the chances of the old man's coming down
handsomely enough to allow his honeymoon to run to Norway when the war
was over.
"Periscope on the port bow, Sir!" It disappeared in the spray of
half-a-dozen shells, and emerged unharmed for an instant before it
dipped; but a rapidly-forming line of torpedo-bubbles showed that the
submarine too had seen, and had made answer after its fashion.
People who ought to know assure us that the truly great often regret
their days of obscurity; certainly the captain now wished that he were
still merely the lieutenant-commander of a T.B. Then he could have
turned nearly parallel to the course of the torpedo, and tried for a
ram. With the heavier and slower ship there was no room or time for
such a manoeuvre; it was full speed ahead or astern. The torpedo was
well-aimed, and, seeing from its track that it would meet their course
ahead, he rang full speed astern. The ship quivered distressingly, and
the water boiled beneath her stern. There was nothing left to do but
wait and trust to the propellers.
Ranks and ratings alike clustered to the side, watching those bubbles
with a curiously dispassionate interest; but for the silence they might
have been a crowd of tourists assembled to see a whale. One low "Six
to four against the torpedo" was heard; and a sub with a pathetically
incipient beard asked for a match in a needlessly loud tone. The
bubbles drew near, very near, and were hidden from all but one or two
beneath the bow; hands gripped the rails rather tightly, and then once
more the line of bubbles appeared, now to the starboard. Men turned and
looked at each other curiously as if they were new acquaintances; one
or two shook hands rather shamefacedly; and the sub who had asked for a
match found that his cigarette wanted another.
And from the look-out, in the same mechanical sing-song, came "Torpedo
passed ahead, Sir!"
* * * * *