DAVE TALKS OUT IN COUNCIL
There was much joy aboard a squadron of six more destroyers, just
arrived from Uncle Sam’s country, when, on steaming into port, they
heard the news of the capture.
So far as Dave was concerned the document that he had discovered,
mutilated as it was, had supplied hints that filled the British
Admiralty and the American naval commander with deep apprehension.
Both Darrin and Dalzell were present in the crowded council room on
board the vice admiral’s flagship. There were other American naval
officers, as well as a few American Army staff officers present. Their
faces displayed anxiety.
“It is too bad,” one of the American army staff officers declared, after
scanning the damaged sheet under a magnifying glass, “that so much of
this is obliterated. Of course, Mr. Darrin, we know that you acted
promptly and that you did all in your power, and at considerable risk,
to preserve this document. From the disconnected sentences that we can
decipher, it would seem that at least sixty of the enemy’s submarines
are to concentrate in near-by waters. It is also plain that their
mission is to destroy the convoy escort and sink the troopships that are
nearing these waters—troopships that convey the entire One Hundred and
Seventeenth Division of the United States Army.”
“It would be a frightful disaster, if it came to pass,” boomed the deep
tones of a British naval officer.
“It shall not come to pass!” declared an American naval officer.
“Easily said, and I hope as easily done,” replied the British officer.
“But you Americans have not yet begun to lose ships loaded with troops.
We Britishers have had some sad experiences in that line. Never as yet,
though, have we had to face a concentration of sixty enemy submarines!”
“The way it looks to me,” said another American army staff officer,
gravely, “is that, while the destroyer escort will surely sink some of
the enemy submarines, yet just as surely, with the enemy in such force,
will some of our troopships go to the bottom. It is mainly, as I view
it, a question of how many troopships we are likely to lose, and how big
a loss of soldier life we shall suffer.”
“Sixty submarines!” uttered a British naval officer, savagely. “We
haven’t an officer on a destroyer who wouldn’t gladly go to the bottom
if he could first have the pleasure of sinking a few of these deep-sea
pests!”
“A distressing feature is that we cannot decipher the very part of this
document which states where the submarine concentration is expected to
strike,” declared a naval staff officer.
“How many British destroyers will be needed to reinforce the available
American destroyers?” asked a British officer, apprehensively. “For we
have so many uses for our destroyers, on other work, that it is
difficult to guess where we are to find destroyers enough to help you
Americans.”
This was known, by all present, to be only too true. The British Navy,
from super-dreadnoughts to the smallest steam trawlers, was painfully
overloaded with work.
“As Mr. Darrin is a destroyer commander with an uncommonly good record
to his credit,” said an American naval staff officer, “and as we have
not yet heard his opinion, I think we would all like to have his views.”
Dave Darrin glanced at the American naval commander, who sent him an
encouraging nod.
“We know, then, gentlemen,” began Dave, “just how many American
destroyers are to act as escort to the troopship fleet that is bringing
the One Hundred and Seventeenth Division across. We know, also, just how
many destroyers under our flag can be taken from patrol duty to
safeguard the troopship fleet. We know the length of the sailing line of
the troopship fleet; we know the speed of our destroyers. It seems to me
that the answer is to be found in these known facts.”
“What is your suggestion as to the plan, then?” asked an officer.
“Gentlemen, in the presence of so many officers of wider experience and
greater knowledge, I feel embarrassed to find myself speaking.”
“Go on!” cried several.
Darrin still hesitated.
“First of all, Mr. Darrin, in offering your suggestion, tell us what
number of British destroyers you believe that you will need to reinforce
the American destroyers that are available for protecting your troopship
fleet,” urged one.
Dave still hesitated, though not from shyness. He did some rapid
calculating as to the length of the line of troopships sailing in the
regular order. Then he figured out how many destroyers could give
efficient protection against sixty German submarines.
There was tense silence in the council room. At last Darrin looked up.
“Well,” demanded the insistent British naval staff officer, “how many of
our British destroyers do you think, Darrin, are needed to help out your
American destroyers?”
Dave turned his face toward the American vice admiral.
“Sir, and gentlemen,” he replied, “if we had three times as many
destroyers we could use them. I have an opinion on the subject, but it
will sound so childish to you that I should prefer to sit back and let
older heads offer suggestions.”
“Darrin,” spoke the flag lieutenant, after a nudge and a whispered word
from the vice admiral, “this is no question of age, nor is it wholly a
question of experience. Demonstrated ability, ability backed by a
record, is entitled to a hearing here. You have done your figuring, and
you have reached certain conclusions. How many British destroyers do you
believe we shall need to help out the American destroyer fleet that is
now available?”
This amounted almost to an order to speak up. Dave reddened perceptibly,
opened his mouth as though to speak, closed it again, then cleared his
throat and called out steadily:
“Sir, and gentlemen, it is my opinion that the American naval forces
available for the work can do all the work! I do not believe that we
need an ounce of British help that would be so graciously extended if we
asked for it!”
There was a moment’s silence.
“No help needed from us?” demanded the British naval staff officer.
“It would be welcome, sir,” Dave declared, “but you cannot spare the
help. Whatever assistance you gave us at this time would weaken your
lines of defense or offense at some other point. They are American
soldiers who are to be protected, and——”
Here Darrin’s voice failed him for a moment. He felt as though the more
than score of pairs of eyes that were regarding him sharply were burning
him. He swallowed hard, but returned to the charge and went on, slowly,
in words that rapped like machine-gun fire:
“I would stake my soul that the American Navy can safeguard the passage
of the One Hundred and Seventeenth Division of the American Army!”
There was a gasp. The words were bold, but, if true, they solved a
vexing problem. The spirit of the United States Navy had spoken through
Dave Darrin’s lips.
“Darrin,” shouted an American staff officer, bringing a fist down on the
table, then springing to his feet, “you’ve answered for us! You’ve given
us our chart. I’d trust the best troopship fleet we’ll ever send over
the ocean to the guarding care of a dozen young Yankee naval commanders
of your stripe.”
In an instant the enthusiasm became infectious. A cheer arose, in which
the vice admiral joined. The British naval officer of the booming tones
left his seat and went over to grasp Dave’s hand.
“Darrin, I wish we had you in our Navy!” he said, simply.
There was little more left to be agreed upon. It was decided, however,
that a combined fleet of British and American patrol boats should be in
readiness to swoop down and save lives in case any of the American
troopships should be torpedoed.
The council soon broke up. All that was now left to be done was for the
vice admiral and his immediate staff to formulate the exact plans for
the protection of the One Hundred and Seventeenth Division. Even after
the destroyer fleet had turned itself loose on its task, further
instructions could be sent in wireless code.
“Gentlemen,” said the vice admiral, rising, “I thank you for your
attendance, for your consideration of the problem, and for whatever help
you have been able to extend. And I can see no objection,” he added, a
twinkle in his eyes, “to your giving three cheers for
Lieutenant-Commander Darrin.”
Proud? Not a bit. As the volleys of cheers rang out deafeningly, Dave
Darrin felt as though he would enjoy sinking through the deck.
But Danny Grin was there, and he undertook the job of feeling proud for
his chum.