SOME OF THE MYSTERIES OF A SUBMARINE
With a click the door of their prison cabin opened and a seaman informed
them that their breakfast was ready. They passed through the narrow
door, and edged their way along a tortuous path that led to the rear,
where they entered what might be called a miniature galley, on one side
of which was a narrow shelf containing food of various descriptions.
There was room only for the attendant to pass while they were seated. An
abundance of the best food was served, cereals, and even fruit, forming
part of the menu. Each of these vessels carry from twenty-two to thirty
men, but there were in sight in the dining room only ten, besides the
cook and waiter.
After the meal, the captain inquired of the officer at the main hatch
whether they would be permitted to go on deck.
"I have no orders," he replied.
Meanwhile, the boys had an opportunity to investigate the mysteries of
the interior, for it was well lighted.
"What are those long drums ahead there?" asked Alfred.
"I think they are the casings which carry the torpedoes," replied the
captain. "If you look beyond you will see the rear ends of the tubes
which receive the torpedoes. The cylinders in sight hold the torpedoes
until they are ready to be placed in the tubes and shot out of them."
"You have orders to go on deck," the under officer at the bottom of the
hatch now informed them.
This was an invitation to which they quickly responded. They ascended,
and found the sun hidden, and the sea about them calm. Glancing across
the broad expanse of water, not a sail was in sight. It was a cold, gray
morning, ordinarily uninviting weather, but after the house of
confinement it was enjoyed to the fullest extent.
"Down below!" shouted a voice.
The boys looked around in surprise, for they had been on deck less than
ten minutes.
"Clear the deck!" shouted the same voice. The boys, with the captain,
were hustled forward into the conning tower, and the iron door closed
with a bang. The boys were permitted to stop only long enough to see two
men turn eight swinging bolts, which hung about the margins of the
doors, and quickly screw them up against the jamb.
The lieutenant was leaning over a narrow table on which was a chart, and
gazing through a crystal-covered port in the front of the conning tower.
A bell tinkled, machinery began to turn and impart its vibration to the
ship, and it was again a living thing. It glided forward with the same
rhythmic noises for a half-hour, and then two bells were heard.
The character of the sounds from the machinery changed; they seemed to
move forward with less effort, and as they felt the same inclination in
the motion of the ship, all were now satisfied that she was again
submerging. Fortunately, they were not confined to their room, and,
although no verbal orders had been given for the various operations
required to handle the vessel, the prisoners had an opportunity to judge
of what was going on.
Thus, when the signal was given to change the motive power from the
internal combustion engines to electricity, they could see the engine
stop, and an attendant shift the clutch which engaged the electric
motors. A dial swinging over a card alongside a pair of levers indicated
the direction of movement, while another gave not only the inclination
of the ship, but its speed as well.
These things were very fascinating to the boys, but their attention was
now attracted to a still more interesting scene. A bell forward gave two
short, quick snaps. Four men sprang forward and stood at attention, two
on each side of the tube at the right of the hold.
"The indicator shows that the submarine is turning," said the captain.
The boys watched the indicator; it had swung around almost half-way.
"There,--look at the inclinometer," said Ralph. "It is moving
upward----"
"Ting! ting!" Two more sharp bells forward. The cylinder was off the
torpedo, and it lay before them exposed.
Three bells more; and now there was feverish haste. An oval door in the
wall ahead was swung open, revealing a round, black hole.
"That is the torpedo tube," said the captain quietly.
The torpedo was moved back three feet, and then again carried forward on
its truck so that the end of the torpedo entered the tube.
One bell more. The torpedo moved into the tube, the breech block, which
in this case was the oval door, closed, and the crew stood at attention.
While thus waiting the boys glanced at the inclinometer and at the
direction indicator.
"See it swing back and forth," said Alfred. "It seems to act queerly."
"Not at all," replied the captain. "Evidently we are chasing a ship
which is zig-zagging, as we did, for the direction dial is constantly
moving."
While thus conversing they were startled by the signal of four bells.
One of the men, reaching forward, touched a button, and the signal could
be heard in the conning tower. That was, evidently, to inform the
commander there that all was in readiness. Everything was expectancy
now. The ship still manoeuvered.
Then, without a warning of any kind, there was a singular dull sound,
which seemed to shake the submarine from stem to stern.
"They have fired it," said Alfred.
"And they are putting in another one."
"If I am not mistaken it is the last one they have," suggested the
captain.
"Why do you think so?" asked Alfred.
"I notice that all the cylinders with the open ends are without
torpedoes, and you will notice that the one they are now putting in is
the last one with the closed end," responded the captain.
"I am glad they haven't any more of them," said Ralph.
Three bells again sounded; the officer at the gun responded, and during
the next two minutes of suspense, the boys were quiet, waiting for the
next shot. It soon came; the ship shook as before, the breach block
opened, the shell behind the torpedo was extracted, the door closed and
the men stood at attention.
When the officer, who had handled the torpedoes, walked down the steps
from the conning tower, the boys noticed him shake his head sadly.
"Did you notice that?" asked the captain.
"Do you mean the way he shook his head?" said Alfred.
"Yes; I am curious to get your views about that action of the officer,"
remarked the captain.
"That is, why he shook his head?" interjected Ralph.
"Yes," answered the captain. "Do you think he looked discouraged because
the shot failed in its mission, or because it went home successfully?
That is the problem."
The boys were quiet for a few moments. Ralph was the first to speak:
"Well, I'll bet the torpedo didn't hit the ship, and he feels cut up
over it, as it was the last one they had."
"I don't agree with you," rejoined Alfred. "It struck the ship and sunk
it, and the fellow feels so badly about it that he shook his head the
way he did when he thought of the suffering it caused. Don't you agree
with me?" said Alfred, addressing the captain.
The captain could not repress a slight laugh as: he answered: "I must
confess you advance good arguments in both directions; but really, I am
of the opinion that either torpedo didn't get in its work."
"Why do you think the first one failed?"
"If the first one had succeeded, they would not have shot the second,
would they?" replied the captain.
"No; I don't think they would, seeing they had only one more left,"
remarked Ralph. "But why do you think the last one was no more
successful?"
"I infer it from the following circumstances: It takes, on an average, a
minute for a torpedo to reach its mark, after it leaves the torpedo
tube. The officer in the tower is in a position where he can see the
effect of the shot. If the torpedo struck, however favorable the blow,
it would take at least fifteen or twenty minutes for the ship to go
down. Sometimes the bulkheads will keep the ship afloat an hour or more.
In fact, there are records of ships which have been torpedoed, that were
actually towed into harbors and saved," answered the captain.
"But I do not see how that is any sign that the torpedo missed," replied
Alfred inquiringly.
"Probably you did not notice the period that elapsed after the last
shot, and the time the officer came down the tower hatch?" remarked the
captain.
"No, I did not observe," replied Alfred.
"You remember, do you not, that as soon as the last torpedo was
launched, the officer went up into the conning tower, and that within a
minute, or not exceeding two minutes, he again came down the stairway,
and shook his head in such a disconsolate manner?" continued the
captain.
"Well, yes; you may be right in that," responded Alfred.
"Then, I inferred this," said the captain, "that the lieutenant had had
ample opportunity to observe whether or not the shot went home, and, as
it had not landed, he reported to the officer the failure. If the shot
had struck he would have known it before the officer left the conning
tower to come down. Do you get my idea?" asked the captain.
"That seems to answer the question, to my mind, that it wasn't a hit,"
said Ralph.
"Well, it doesn't quite satisfy me," replied Alfred. "The lieutenant
might have told him that the shot hit the ship, and that it was going
down, and that's what made him feel so badly about it."
The captain could not help feeling amused at Alfred's argument, as he
replied: "I must admit that your view is logical, and I am also willing
to assent that the question is one, which, in the absence of actual
knowledge, could be settled in one way only."
"How is that?" asked Ralph.
"By knowing the mental condition and attitude of the officer who came
down the hatchway. If he happened to be a humane person he would regret
the loss of life, and show it, probably, by his actions. On the other
hand, if he should be devoid of the finer feelings, and be a mere slave
to duty, it is more than likely that he would shake his head
discouragingly, to learn that the torpedo failed in its mission," was
the captain's final word on the subject.
"Now that they are out of torpedoes, what do you suppose they will do?"
asked Ralph.
"Go home; I suppose," replied Alfred.
"Unless they have a base somewhere on the coast," replied the captain.
"Where is the most likely place for such a base?" asked Ralph.
"That is the enigma, of course. It has been believed that the Germans
have a base somewhere along the northern coast of Spain," said the
captain.
"What are the reasons for thinking so?" asked Alfred.
"One of them is that some of the Spaniards are said to be more or less
friendly to the Germans, and, furthermore, there are few ports or
harbors on the north coast, hence the shipping to Spain in the southern
waters of the Bay of Biscay is very small, a condition which would help
to keep a base along the coast line at one or more points."
"But we ought to know in the next day or two whether they have such a
base," said Ralph.
"Yes; it will be the opportunity now for us to make some observation
which will tell us whether we are going to Germany, or not," said the
captain with a grin.
Situated, as they were, below decks, with no instruments but the
direction indicator, and the inclinometer in sight, it was impossible to
judge of the direction they were going, for it was evident that the
submarine was now moving ahead at full speed.
"It will be, probably, twenty-four hours before we are able to get any
information as to our destination," said the captain.
"Do you intend to ask some of the men?" inquired Alfred.
"No; that would be fruitless. It is not at all likely they will venture
any information upon a subject of that character," replied the captain.
"Then how would it be possible to learn anything about where we are
going?" asked Ralph.
"We are now somewhere in the Bay of Biscay, and I infer that we must be
about a hundred and fifty miles from the Spanish coast. To reach that at
the rate we are going, would take at least ten hours, for I assume that
the vessel is capable of at least ten miles an hour. Then, we must take
into consideration the possible meeting with vessels, in which case we
must submerge, and thus go much slower," said the captain.
"Then, if they have a base anywhere along the coast we ought to be there
before tomorrow at this time?" ventured Alfred.
"That is exactly what I mean," answered the captain.