Seaplane and Submarine
Two hours after the shelling of Portsmouth by a Rioguayan
submersible cruiser, Southampton was heavily bombarded, presumably
by the same craft. Here, the firing was of a more concentrated
nature, practically all the projectiles falling in the docks,
although an obvious but unsuccessful attempt was made to destroy the
Naval Ordnance Magazines at Marchwood. Southampton, however, escaped
comparatively lightly--few of its prominent buildings were even
damaged, and the toll of human life in the town itself was small. At
the docks, too, the loss of life was not great, owing to most of the
workers quickly finding cover which proved useful against anything
but a direct hit.
Within thirty minutes of this bombardment came telegraphic reports
that Plymouth and Devonport were under hostile fire.
The news had barely reached the Admiralty, when telegrams were
pouring in from Manchester and Liverpool, reporting that both places
had been shelled from an unknown type of craft that had appeared
sixteen miles west by north of the Bar Lightship. In this case, the
firing lasted only a couple of minutes or so, for on the appearance
of an Isle of Man packet-boat the submarine hastily dived. That
pointed to the fact that the crew of the submarine were evidently
"jumpy", otherwise they would not have dived simply because of a
small and unarmed steamer.
. . . . . . . . .
True to his promise, Brian Strong had a complete apparatus ready in
the specified time. In the presence of a number of naval experts,
the device was submitted for trials.
For the sake of secrecy, the apparatus was placed on the light
cruiser _Cariad_, the vessel with the experts on board being ordered
to proceed to a position twenty miles south-east of the Nab tower.
Four modern-type seaplanes from Calshot were detailed to play the
part of hostile aircraft. At the time specified, two of them were
observed approaching from the nor'-east at an altitude of 2000 feet.
The inventor, feeling far from cool and collected, peered through
the telescopic sights. In spite of the fact that the rays had been
proved, he was assailed by doubts. Supposing something--a minute
adjustment--was in error and the device failed? Or if the current
should prove too strong or too weak for the sensitive instrument? He
feared failure, not because the apparatus might be defective, but by
reason of the ridicule that would be hurled at him.
Slowly, Uncle Brian trained the projector, still hesitating. The
nearest seaplane was now a bare two miles away, flying serenely,
almost defiantly, in the cloudless sky.
"Three thousand yards," chaunted the range-finding officer.
Some of the experts shrugged their shoulders. The rays were to be
released at nine thousand yards. For all they knew, the inventor had
done so, but without effect.
At last, with a nervous jerk, Brian Strong depressed the lever
actuating the mysterious current. The leading seaplane held on for
perhaps five seconds, then like a wounded partridge, it began to
dive towards the water. The pilot, retaining his presence of mind,
righted his 'bus and allowed her to volplane, until the inventor
trained the projector upon the second sea-plane.
At the first sign of the ignition being cut out, the pilot banked
steeply. The sudden swerve brought the seaplane outside the
invisible beam. The twin motors picked up again.
By this time Brian had recovered his composure. He was again an
inventor, sure of himself, and tasting in full measure the joy of
achievement, when not a moment before his sensations had been much
like those of a nervous schoolboy faced by a tough "paper", and by
no means confident of the result. The slightest deflection made it
possible for the ray to hold the machine as surely as the spider's
web does the enmeshed fly.
Vainly did the accomplished airman attempt to extricate his machine
from the numbing influence. Looping, banking, attempting a spinning
nose dive, he tried ineffectually to dodge the invisible but none
the less paralysing beam, employing all the artifices of a flying
man who had won experience in that perilous school--the Great War.
It was a gallant struggle. The seaplane--a mere glider encumbered by
the dead weight of a useless pair of engines--was beaten.
The third and fourth shared the same fate, and whilst the four were
resting on the water, the inventor demonstrated the effect of
playing the ray fanwise. The moment one seaplane "started up" she
was rendered powerless by the swift swing of the electric beam.
Another and yet another attempted to rise, but hardly had the
engines fired when they were reduced to a state of silent impotency.
"That gadget will clip the wings of the Rioguayan air fleet,"
exclaimed Sir John Pilrig enthusiastically.
"And the Rioguayans will clip ours," added another Admiralty
official.
"Precisely," agreed the Deputy Chief of Staff. "That wipes the air
menace off the board. Now there are the submarines to be taken into
account. Conditions somewhat different from those during the last
war. S'pose your rays aren't applicable to underwater craft, Mr.
Strong, or have you managed to solve still another problem of modern
warfare?"
Brian shook his head.
"'Fraid not, sir," he replied. "But there's no insurmountable
difficulty, I take it. A submarine's electrical engines ought to be
'shorted' by the rays. The difficulty appears to me to be the
non-adaptability of water to the conditions of a concentrated
current."
"Meanwhile, we just carry on," rejoined Sir John. "After all, we
didn't do so badly with depth-charges and hydrophones.... That will
do, Captain Parr," he continued, addressing the Commanding-Officer
of the cruiser. "There is no need for further trials. Will you
please have a signal sent to the seaplanes to that effect? They can
part company and return to Calshot."
The four aircraft began "taxi-ing" into the wind, prior to "taking
off". To do so, they had to pass to wind'ard of the _Cariad_, and,
when at a sufficient altitude, turn and retrace their course.
"Wireless telephone message, sir!" reported the Yeoman of Signals to
the Captain of the _Cariad_. "Sea-plane reports submarine
approaching within one thousand yards of ship. Request
instructions."
"Port eight," ordered the owner, with the idea of turning the
cruiser so that her stern, instead of her broadside, should present
itself to a possible foe. "Any of our submarines out?" he demanded
of the Officer of the Watch.
"None, sir," was the prompt reply. "All submarines of the Portsmouth
Division were to use the Needles Channel."
"Then heaven help me if she's one of ours," exclaimed the Captain
grimly. "By Jove, won't it make 'em jump!"
He indicated a group of Admiralty experts, both naval and civilian,
gathered round Brian Strong's gadget on the quarter-deck.
Sir John smiled.
"They'd jump still more if a tinfish got us," he added.
The seaplane had already been given orders to attack. It was indeed
a lucky chance that she had left Calshot under active service
conditions. In addition to two torpedoes designed for use against
surface craft, she was equipped with four delayed-action bombs, each
capable of being set to explode at any depth between four and
twenty-four fathoms.
It was with weapons of the latter type that the seaplane was about
to deal drastically with her submerged foe.
The latter was the submersible cruiser that had recently bombed
Portsmouth and Southampton. She was now proceeding up-channel intent
upon causing a little annoyance at Dover.
Unfortunately for her, she was unaware of the presence of the
seaplanes; but she had spotted the slowly moving _Cariad_ and had
marked her down for an easy prey.
The light cruiser had swung gently through eight points of the
compass. Captain Parr had purposely refrained from ordering
increased speed lest the submarine might "smell a rat". On her part,
the Rioguayan craft was not able to gain on the cruiser, but was
hanging on in the hope that the _Cariad_ would again alter helm and
thus present a target that was almost impossible to be missed by the
deadly torpedo. During the conversation between Sir John Pilrig and
the Captain of the _Cariad_, Brian Strong had rejoined Peter, who
had been closely questioned by the experts concerning the
anti-aircraft device.
In complete ignorance of the presence of the Rioguayan submarine,
the group of experts transferred their attention to the seaplane
that had detached herself from her consorts and was now hovering in
wide circles over the clearly-defined hull of her lawful prey.
A dark object dropped from the fuselage, quickly followed by
another, their impact with the water throwing up a tall column of
spray.
"What is that fellow doing?" began Uncle Brian, but before he could
complete the sentence a muffled roar shook the air. A thick cloud of
greasy black smoke shot up, mushroom-shaped... the rush of subsiding
water hurled high above the normal surface deadened the
long-drawn-out reverberations of the explosion.... The _Cariad_
rolled lazily to the wash caused by the violent displacement of
hundreds of tons of water.
It seemed an interminable time before the straight snout and the
net-cutting device of the Rioguayan submersible rose for a brief
interval above the pool of oil--sufficient for the _Cariad_ to
establish the certainty that the craft was not a British one.
The submarine had been hit right aft, the explosion completely
shattering the hull abaft the Diesel-engine room. The for'ard
portion was, however, still practically intact.
The _Cariad's_ engines were stopped. Captain Parr was seemingly in
no hurry to take his ship from that forbidding spot. Nor did he
close in order to drop a mark-buoy over the wreckage.
A quarter of an hour had passed. The seaplanes, their work
accomplished, were out of sight. The light cruiser still lingered.
At the microphone apparatus a grave-faced watch-keeping lieutenant
was listening, and not listening in vain, for auricular evidences of
what was taking place within the as yet water-tight sections of the
submersible.
Suddenly the muffled roar of a second explosion, of lesser magnitude
than that of the first, was borne to the ears of the watchers on the
cruiser's deck and superstructure. A thin cloud of vile-smelling
smoke filtered through the agitated waves and drifted athwart the
_Cariad_.
The Deputy Chief of Staff turned inquiringly to Captain Parr. His
hands were trembling perceptibly and his tanned features had assumed
a greyish hue.
"Well?" he inquired laconically.
"Done themselves in, poor wretches," replied the owner. "They've
detonated the warhead of one of their torpedoes.... Either that or a
lingering death."
The Captain turned to order speed for fifteen knots. Sir John left
the bridge and made his way to the quarter-deck to rejoin his
colleagues.
"That apparatus of yours, Mr. Strong," he observed in level tones,
"is perfectly satisfactory. How many can you guarantee within a
fortnight?"
He paused and laid his hand upon Brian's masterpiece.
"If only you could adapt it for submarine work," he continued, "you
would become the greatest humanitarian of the decade--of the
century. There would be none of that brutal business we've just
witnessed.... Fifty in a fortnight, Mr. Strong? Excellent! Carry on,
and let's have the goods."