RAMMED
"SAIL one point on the port bow."
The hail, coming from the look out for'ard, made Farrar hasten to
the weather side of the navigation-bridge and bring his
night-glasses to the eyes.
The "Zenodorus" was steaming at twenty-one knots with all lights
screened. Her position was roughly forty miles N.E. by E. of Cape
Sta Maria di Leuca, her mission being to act as covering screen to a
drifter patrol operating in the Straits of Otranto.
Five miles to the nor'ard of her course were the hardy little
drifters, their crews--one-time hard-working, peaceable North Sea
fishermen--forming an effective unit of the British Navy in the
hazardous task of assisting in the blockade of the Austrian fleet in
the Adriatic. The erstwhile fishing-boats had been on this service
for many long-drawn months. They had suffered hardships and severe
losses, yet day in and night out relays of these stumpily built
little craft were always to be found in the Otranto Straits,
sweeping for mines, looking for hostile submarines, and otherwise
doing their level best to circumvent Fritz and his Allies in their
stealthy acts of frightfulness.
But for one fact the drifters might be one or a hundred miles from
the "Zenodorus," for, also without lights, they were totally
invisible in the intense darkness. It was the constant crackle of
the wireless receiver that told the alert officer of the watch of
the position of the plucky little auxiliaries.
The sighting of the mysterious vessel called for immediate and
prompt action. No armed merchant cruiser or light cruiser of the
Royal Navy was known to be within ten miles of the "Zenodorus's"
"beat"; nor, according to official information from the Italian
Admiralty, were any of the Italian fleet under way in these waters.
The inference, therefore, was that the strange craft was an enemy
ship; possibly a raider striving to run the blockade, or else an
Austrian cruiser attempting a "tip-and-run" enterprise.
On the other hand, if the vessel were a hostile craft, how came she
to pass the outer drifter patrol without being challenged by the
alert guardians of the Straits?
Since the two vessels were approaching from almost exactly opposite
directions at an aggregate speed of approximately thirty-eight
knots, there was no time to be lost. The "Zenodorus" was cleared for
action. Her 6-inch quick-firers were loaded and trained abeam, ready
for eventualities, but, if shots were to be exchanged, the stranger
would open fire first, while as she swept by she would probably
loose a couple of torpedoes at close range. It was one of the few
advantages possessed by the Germans and their allies with the
practical disappearance of their above-water ships: every vessel
they met was either an enemy or a neutral. Should a mistake be made
and a neutral vessel sent to the bottom Germany would apologise for
the "regrettable incident" and offer compensation, but rarely did
the owners of the luckless neutral craft receive anything beyond the
empty "offer."
Sub-Lieutenant Farrar was quick to act. He knew that the senior
watch-keeper was in the chart-room. Before the navigator could
emerge from the brilliantly illuminated compartment and accustom his
eyes to the sudden transition from light to darkness the mischief
would be done--one way or the other.
"Port five!" ordered the sub.
"Port five, sir," replied the quartermaster.
"Steady!"
"Steady, sir," was the echoing response.
"'Midships!" Then to the watch on deck, "Prepare to ram!"
Even before the alert quartermaster could reply the expected
happened. The sharp bows of the "Zenodorus" crashed into the
starboard side of the stranger just abaft the foremast.
Those of the armed merchant cruiser's men who had not thrown
themselves flat upon the deck at the order to prepare to ram were
hurled violently off their feet, while above the rending of steel
plates came the loud sounds of the foremast and its attendant raffle
falling athwart the "Zenodorus" deck.
"By Jove!" exclaimed the sub gleefully, as a babel of voices
shouting in a guttural jargon came from the rammed ship. "I was
right. They are Austrians."
By hitting the enemy craft bows on Farrar had reduced the risk of
the "Zenodorus" being torpedoed to a minimum. At the best a torpedo
fired at close range could only strike a glancing blow, even
supposing the broadside tube could be trained sufficiently ahead to
bear upon the British vessel. So terrific had been the impact that
the crumpled bow-plates of the "Zenodorus" were within four or six
feet of the Austrian's foremast, while before both vessels lost way
the former had swung round until she was at right angles to the
latter's fore and aft plane.
All the time the "Zenodorus" was running her powerful engines full
speed ahead. This had the effect of keeping the sharp wedge of her
bows fixed in the gaping hole in her antagonist's side.
"On searchlights!" roared a voice that Farrar recognised as his
captain's. Within twenty seconds of the impact Lieutenant-Commander
Aubyn was on the bridge to direct operations.
A spurt of flame leapt from one of the after quick-firers on the
Austrian's starboard quarter, and a shell burst under the British
vessel's poop. It was a sign that the Austrian gunners were
recovering from the panic into which they had been thrown by the
unexpected manoeuvre of the "Zenodorus."
Lieutenant-Commander Aubyn forbore to give the order to open fire,
lest the enemy ship's magazine might explode and send both vessels
to a common fate, With the intention of drawing clear and taking up
a position on the Austrian's port bow, he telegraphed first for
"stop," then "half speed astern."
Before the "Zenodorus" could back away a score or more of the enemy
clambered upon her fo'c'sle. For the moment Farrar, as well as
several others of the officers and crew, was under the impression
that the men were endeavouring to save themselves by gaining the
deck of the ramming vessel, since it was practically a foregone
conclusion that their own craft would founder rapidly when the
"Zenodorus" backed clear of the huge rent in her side.
Eager to save life several of the crew went to the assistance of
their foes, only to make the discovery that the "Zenodorus" was
boarded by a swarm of armed and determined men, headed by a tall,
powerfully-built officer, brandishing an automatic pistol in each
hand.
"Repel boarders!" shouted Aubyn in stentorian tones, giving a
command that only on extremely rare occasions has been heard by a
British crew in action since the days of the old Wooden Walls. But a
lapse of over seventy years has not changed the enthusiasm of the
British tar for a hand-to-hand tumble with cold steel. Gone were the
old eight-foot pikes, the keen-edged boarding axes, and the
unreliable flint-lock pistols, but with their modern counterparts
the bluejackets surged for'ard in a cheering, yelling, irresistible
rush.
With the two powerful searchlights to aid them--for the boarders
fought with the dazzling glare full in their eyes--the "Zenodorus's"
men made short work of their opponents. The Austrian officer went
down with a cutlass through his chest, but not before he had killed
one and wounded three of his foes. A dozen of his men lay dead upon
the deck, while others, attempting to flee, found their retreat had
been cut off by the "Zenodorus" backing away from her prey. Seeing
that their case was hopeless they laid down their arms.
Even as the British armed merchant-cruiser gathered sternway a
torpedo, gleaming silvery white in the glare of the searchlight,
leapt from a tube in the enemy's main deck. Disappearing beneath the
waves amidst a cascade of glistening spray the missile almost grazed
the British vessel's port quarter, and missing her stern post, by
inches, harmlessly finished its run five miles from the scene of the
encounter.
It was the hostile craft's last bolt. So great was the inrush of
water that her fo'c'sle was awash. Heeling more and more she lay
right over on her beam ends, the surviving members of her crew
clambering up the now horizontal starboard side. Then, with a
muffled roar, her boilers exploded, completely severing the hull
into two parts. The for'ard portions already waterlogged, sank like
a stone. The remaining part of the hull, turning completely over,
remained in view for nearly five minutes, until, with very little
commotion, it too disappeared from view, leaving the agitated water
dotted with the heads of nearly a hundred survivors.
Already every available boat had been lowered from the "Zenodorus."
The quarter boats had been smashed by the solitary shell that had
exploded on her poop. Nevertheless the crew were instrumental in
saving seventy of the foes, many of whom were in a state of extreme
exhaustion.
"Seven feet of water in the forehold, sir," reported the carpenter,
who, upon the conclusion of the action, had gone below to ascertain
the amount of material damage below the water-line.
"Stokehold for'ard bulkhead holding?" inquired the captain
anxiously.
"Yes, sir; tight as a bottle; but our bows are properly stove in."
Aubyn turned to the officer of the watch.
"Did you give the order to ram?" he asked.
"No, sir," replied the lieutenant. "I was in the chart-room at the
time. Mr. Farrar was sub of the watch."
Rather dubious as to his reception Farrar stood at attention before
his skipper and made his report--straight to the point and avoiding
all unnecessary details.
"I congratulate you, Mr. Farrar," said the lieutenant-commander. "It
showed promptitude and daring on your part. Your reasoning was
sound--absolutely. She would have slipped a couple of tin-fish into
us for a dead cert. if you had let her run past our lee. As it was
we've come off lightly, but it would have been a costly mistake if
that craft had been a friend."
The "Zenodorus" was still forging astern.
With her damaged bows it would be a risky business to go ahead and
thus increase the hydrostatic pressure upon the transverse
bulkheads. The wreckage of the foremast was cut clear and temporary
wireless aerials sent aloft, a message being sent to the
"Zenoclides," the "next on station," asking her to relieve the
damaged vessel as soon as possible.
Examination of the prisoners revealed the information that the enemy
craft was the 8,000 ton Austrian Lloyd liner "Hapsburg," that had
been fitted out at Trieste for a raiding expedition to the Western
Mediterranean. That the Austrian naval authorities realised that
there was slight possibility of her return was evident from the
instructions given to her commanding officer. The captain of the
"Hapsburg" had been ordered to break through the Otranto patrol, if
possible, and then, directly matters became too hot, to make for a
Spanish port and be interned.
It was a daring piece of work--the evading of the drifter patrol.
Favoured by intense darkness and a northerly breeze the Austrian
vessel hoisted a square-sail of black canvas, and depending solely
upon the wind to give her steerage way, ran noiselessly through the
British outer line. Then, putting on all speed, she trusted to
chance to avoid the supporting cruisers, only to be sent to the
bottom by the "Zenodorus."
"It will mean six weeks in dock," observed Captain Aubyn, when the
damage was revealed in the morning light. "But it might have been a
jolly sight worse."
The crumpled state of the armed merchantman's bows made her injuries
appear greater than they actually were. For thirty feet the plating
was buckled and twisted, the deck planks shattered, and the whole of
No. 2 transverse bulkhead exposed to the level of the water. The
"Zenodorus" was nine feet down by the bows, but fortunately beyond
the flooding of the forehold the rest of the hull was still
watertight. As additional evidence of the immense force of the
impact, the "Hapsburg's" steam capstan had been uprooted from its
bed and had been forced completely through the British cruiser's
for'ard bulkhead, where it remained as a trophy of the encounter.
With the loss of the foremast and the damage aft caused by the
explosion of the hostile shell, the "Zenodorus" looked a wreck, but,
as the lieutenant-commander had remarked, it might have been a jolly
sight worse.
Under easy steam and escorted by a destroyer the battered merchant
cruiser crawled back to Malta, where steps were immediately taken to
make good defects.
At the first opportunity Sub-Lieutenant Farrar sought an interview
with his commanding officer and made a suggestion.
Aubyn listened interestedly. His junior officer's scheme seemed
practicable, while the sub was quite capable of being entrusted with
its execution.
"Very good, Mr. Farrar," exclaimed the "owner" of the "Zenodorus."
"I'll submit the matter to the Commander-in-Chief, and no doubt he
will concur. I don't see why you shouldn't go on a roving commission
for the next three weeks; it will be preferable to cooling your
heels in Valetta. By Jove! I wish I could go with you."