CHAPTER XXII.
THE TABLES TURNED.
"The swine!" ejaculated Gilroy furiously. "They know we play the game, but if I had my will, I really believe I'd ship a couple of captured German officers on board every merchantman clearing our ports."
"That wouldn't stop them, Gilroy," remarked the captain. "Not even if you had old Tirpitz's son as a figure-head. Instead of which he's living in luxury at our expense, while our officers and men are being housed like cattle. No, we must do our work with clean hands."
"Not even employ a ruse, sir?" queried Gilroy.
"That doesn't enter into the question," replied his superior officer. "As a matter of fact, I mean to have a little try on. It's hardly in accordance with Admiralty procedure, but I'll explain, and if any of you gentlemen have any objections, don't hesitate to say so."
"I am willing to take the risk, sir," declared Gilroy, after the captain had outlined his plans. "And if we succeed I don't think My Lords will give us a rap on the knuckles."
"And you, Mr. Aubyn?"
"I am of the same opinion as Mr. Gilroy, sir."
"Very good: we'll carry on," concluded the skipper of the "Livingstone."
Accordingly the destroyer returned to the rendezvous off The Start. From there she sent a wireless announcing certain engine-room defects, that might well have stood over to a more convenient time, and requested permission to put into Brixham, where the work could be carried out.
Back came the reply: "Concur. Make good defects on relief by 'Radimus'."
At ten p.m. the destroyer "Radimus" came up, and exchanged signals with the "Livingstone," which at once steamed for Brixham.
There was just enough water for the destroyer to enter the outer harbour and tie up alongside the wall. An hour later she was aground; a little later she was high and dry in the tidal harbour.
Both the captain of the "Livingstone" and Lieutenant Gilroy had ample private means, and they did not hesitate to spend money for the good of the country and the Navy in particular. So within forty minutes of the destroyer entering Brixham Harbour, the two officers, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, had concluded a bargain with a local owner for the hire of three of the weatherly trawlers for which that Devonshire port is so greatly celebrated.
At two in the morning, when Brixham slept, the crew of the "Livingstone" were hard at work, transporting stores and munitions to the three hired trawlers. By dint of great exertion one four-inch gun with its mountings was transferred to each of the trawlers and set in position just abaft the mainmast.
Directly the tide rose sufficiently, the trawlers, each containing a third of the "Livingstone's" crew, in addition to the regular hands, warped out into the Roads, hoisted sail, and with a fresh easterly breeze "reached off" towards The Start.
Thus Terence Aubyn found himself, for the first time in his career, senior executive officer of an armed vessel—the ketch "Asphodel," with a sturdy Brixham fisherman as his sailing master, and twenty bluejackets lying upon the deck.
The three trawlers maintained a "line ahead" formation, the captain of the "Livingstone" leading in the "Myrtle," Lieutenant Gilroy second in the "Cinema," and Terence as the rear-guard. To all outward appearance the unofficial flotilla was off to the fishing-grounds.
Five miles S.S.E. of the Devon promontory known as The Start, the destroyer "Radimus" crossed the bows of the trawlers, bound for Portland Bill, the eastern limit of her patrolling ground. Unsuspecting, her officer of the watch brought his glasses to bear upon the three peaceful ketches, and proceeded on his way.
Half an hour later a large auxiliary barque came ploughing her way up Channel. Although absolutely unarmed she showed no fear of the threatened submarine blockade, her red ensign proudly and unmistakably announcing the fact that she belonged to the greatest mercantile navy the world has ever yet seen.
"That rascally submarine, sir!" announced the master of the "Asphodel" to Terence, pointing to a peculiar swirl in the placid water about a mile astern of the barque, followed by the sinister-looking conning-tower and twin periscopes of the German pirate.
Doffing his regulation cap, Aubyn raised his head just above the low bulwarks and kept the submarine under observation with his telescope. Owing to the "line-ahead" formation of the trawlers, the "Asphodel" was nearest the enemy craft, which bore well on that trawler's port quarter.
The barque was helpless. Being under a full press of canvas she could not even attempt to ram her antagonist, while the wind being light, and her auxiliary engines of comparatively low horse-power, flight was out of the question.
The German submarine approached quickly and fearlessly. A survey of the horizon revealed to her captain nothing formidable in sight, only three harmless trawlers off to the fishing-ground. When he had finished with the barque, he decided, he would send two of the trawlers to the bottom, in order to let the English know that even fish was to become a scarce article of food, and let the third craft go with the crews of their sunken consorts.
It did not take the submarine long to range up on the starboard quarter of the barque. A brief argument took place between the German captain and the British merchant skipper, with the result that the latter, finding resistance useless, had the vessel hove-to.
On the deck of the submarine, just in front of the after quick-firing gun that had been raised from below and was trained on the barque, stood a steel boat lashed down and secured in chocks. In the boat's garboards were four large apertures, each capable of being closed watertight by the manipulation of a single interrupted thread screw. When open these holes allowed the boat to be emptied or flooded with great rapidity as the submarine rose or dived.
Yet for some reason the pirates made no attempt to use their own boat; they ordered the barque to lower two of hers, and with three men in each to row alongside the submarine.
It was the intention of the Germans to rifle the prize before they placed explosives on board. They were evidently short of provisions, oil, and petrol, and these were to be found in abundance upon the luckless barque. The ship's boats could be more conveniently employed upon this business, as in the case of a surprise there would be delay in hauling the steel tender on to the submarine's deck and securing it, before she could dive.
Terence watched this part of the operation with extreme annoyance. If the pirate meant to keep some of the British crew on the deck of the submarine, her destruction could not be accomplished without great risk and peril to the men of the mercantile marine. However, he decided the capture or destruction of the unknown submarine—for she had no number painted on her grey sides or conning-tower—was imperative, and acting in accordance with a prearranged plan, he gave the master of the "Asphodel" instructions to steer towards the now motionless barque, approaching on the starboard hand, while the other trawlers held steadily on their course.
It was sound strategy. The captain of the submarine evidently imagined that the trawler was approaching out of sheer curiosity, or that, seeing the barque hove-to, her master thought that the skipper of the British craft wished to communicate with the shore. Lying snugly under the port quarter of the barque, the submarine was now invisible from the trawler's deck, while the crew of the captured vessel were ordered not to give the alarm under penalty of death.
Meanwhile, the "Myrtle" and "Cinema," having crossed the barque's track, were able from a convenient distance to see what was going on.
The pirates made their captives work with the utmost dispatch, and in a very short time almost all of the barque's cargo and stores that they were in need of was transported to the submarine and stowed below.
This done, the captain was ordered to surrender his papers, but the stubborn old salt declared that he had heaved them overboard before capture. As a matter of fact they were slipped into the lining at the back of his coat. This act of non-compliance aroused the German captain's anger. Ordering the boats back to the barque, he told the skipper and crew that they had five minutes to clear out. At the expiration of that time limit, he would sink the vessel by gun-fire.
Directly the British officers on the "Myrtle" and "Cinema" saw that there were no longer any of the crew of the barque on or alongside the submarine a signal was sent to the "Asphodel." Instantly the ketch luffed up, ran under the barque's stern and came in sight, and within eighty or a hundred yards of the submarine, the crew of which were standing by their quick-firers, ready to hull and sink the prize.
"Heave-to, 'Asphodel'!" shouted the German captain in good English, as he read the name of the apparently unsuspecting trawler that had blundered right into his clutches. "Heave-to, or we'll sink you without mercy."
"Let them have it!" shouted Terence. He had no scruples now. It was a fair fight between a modern submarine, with her guns ready for action, and a trawler manned by a trained Navy crew.
Like a sheet of tissue paper caught in a furious wind the tarpaulin concealing the gun was whipped off; cool and collected the highly-trained gun-layer lingered a fraction of a second over the sights, then—crash!
Almost before the recoil of the weapon had been taken up by the hydraulic mountings the breech-block flew open with a clang and a fresh cartridge was inserted.
One round was enough.
The shell, fired at almost point-blank range, had penetrated the conning-tower, killing the captain and ripping the steel plating like cardboard. More, the fragments of the exploded missile had put out of action all the crew of the fore quick-firer.
Terrified by the appalling concussion the engine-room ratings of the submarine abandoned their posts at the motor and ran on deck, while the after-gun's-crew, realizing that they were trapped, made no attempt to use their piece, especially as they were covered by the formidable 4-inch on the "Asphodel's" deck.
With their hands held high above their heads the pirates raised a monotonous shout of "Mercy, Englishmen!"
The submarine was done for. With the conning-tower shattered she could not dive; apart from the abandonment of the motors, she could not seek safety in flight, for even if running on the surface she would quickly be swamped by the seas pouring over her low freeboard.
"Mercy, Englishmen! Mercy!"
The cry was repeated over and over again. The recreant Teutons, taken red-handed, were firmly convinced that their captors intended putting them to death—the extreme penalty for their guilt.
Terence glanced in the direction of the two trawlers. They were approaching slowly, for the wind was still light. Before the arrival of his superior officer the sub. realized that the mischief he anticipated might be consummated.
"Where is your captain?" he shouted.
The babel ceased. One German, a petty officer, knew how to speak English after a fashion.
"He kapitan Schluk he dead," he replied.
"The senior officer, then?"
There was a movement on deck. Some of the men bawled down the hatchway. After some delay a fat, fair-haired sub-lieutenant appeared. Being unable to speak or understand English the new arrival made use of the petty officer as an interpreter.
"Do I understand that you surrender?" demanded Terence.
"Yes; if our lives are spared," answered the German officer through the medium of the interpreter.
"Very good; I accept your surrender on conditions," agreed Terence, speaking deliberately, and with a stern, menacing tone in his voice. "Your craft must be given up exactly in its present condition. If any attempt be made to open the valves no quarter will be given."
It went against his sense of honour to speak in this strain. He knew perfectly well that, happen what may, quarter would not be denied these modern pirates. But experience taught him that on more than one occasion a German submarine had surrendered to a British vessel, and as soon as the crew was safe, the ballast tanks would be deliberately flooded to let the boat sink for good and all, so that the secret of their construction should not be revealed to the hated English.
Consequently he was not surprised when the German officer, on hearing the conditions, made a gesture of defiance and disappeared below. Before many seconds had passed the crippled submarine began to sink deeper and deeper in the water. The survivors of her crew, now animated by the example of their young officer, lined up, bare-headed, and joining hands burst into the words of "Deutschland uber alles." One brawny, yellow-haired man produced a German ensign lashed to a boat-hook stave, and held it defiantly aloft. It was perhaps fortunate that they did not attempt to use the still intact quick-firer, otherwise Terence might have been compelled to put his empty threat into execution.
The end was not long in coming. The slight reserve of buoyancy of the submarine was quickly destroyed by the inrush of water, both through the valves and through the huge rent in the base of the conning-tower.
The water mounted to the knees of the double line of men. Still singing they looked death in the face. Then with a sudden lurch that threw the ranks into complete disorder, the submarine plunged. "Deutschland uber alles" trailed away into a grim silence, broken by the rush of water and the hiss of escaping air.
The next instant the submarine was lost to sight, taking with her the resolute sub-lieutenant, whose devotion to the Kaiser had out-weighed his conscience in the matter of the utter disregard of international law.
There was still life to be saved. More than a score of the German crew were swimming strongly.
"Out with the boats!" shouted the master of the "Asphodel."
A dozen willing hands helped to launch the hefty boat which was stowed bottom upwards on the trawler's deck. With a loud splash she was thrust overboard and volunteers hastily tumbled into her. Already the boats of the barque were heading towards the spot marked by bobbing heads of the swimmers. The seamen knew that, but for a fortunate change of circumstances they might be swimming for dear life and jeered at by the crew of the submarine into the bargain but petty spite and recriminations are not to be found in the creed of true British seamen.
Long before the "Myrtle" and "Cinema" came up, every one of the swimmers had been rescued, and since the crew of the barque dumped their living cargoes into the "Asphodel," the latter's decks were packed with humanity. Round every half-drowned German a dozen British tars, all more or less sympathetic, were gathered, doing their utmost to assist their foes.
"Smart shot, Mr. Aubyn," sang out the captain of the "Livingstone," as his temporary command shot up into the wind within easy hailing distance. "Your gun-layer took good care not to let us have a finger in the pie."
"We acted under your orders, sir," replied Terence.
"You did," admitted the captain, with a hearty laugh. "You did, but you might have given the others a chip in. They hardly—why, what's that?"
He broke off suddenly at the sound of a terrific cheer. The barque had now gathered way. Her sails had been sheeted home. The weather shrouds were black with men who were cheering the three trawlers with all the force of their lungs, while aft stood the old skipper, waving his cap with the vivacity of a schoolboy.
Considering the unusual means whereby the German submarine had been destroyed, the necessity of keeping the incident a secret, until the Press Bureau thought fit to dole out another morsel of information, was most desirable. There was also another reason. The enemy must not know of the actual circumstances, otherwise the submarines still at large would take steps to prevent a similar surprise.
So the crews, both temporary and permanent, of the three trawlers were mustered and sworn to secrecy, their respective naval officers impressing upon the Brixham men the fact that, being an Admiralty chartered vessel (this was a piece of pure bluff) they were liable to the pains and penalties of the Naval Discipline Act, the Official Secrets Act, and a dozen other statutes passed for the safety, honour, and welfare of the King's dominions.
The next question was how to dispose of the prisoners. Gilroy proposed delaying the arrival of the trawlers till after dusk and then setting the Germans ashore under an armed guard at a remote and unfrequented cove in the vicinity of Dartmouth; but the captain overruled.
While the council of war was in progress the destroyer "Radimus," returning on her patrol work, came in sight. In answer to a signal hoisted on the "Myrtle" the destroyer altered helm and ran down to investigate.
Her officers and crew were good sportsmen all. Although chagrined to find that the German submarine had been sunk almost under their noses, and by three sailing trawlers, a type that the Admiralty persistently deprecated as being of no service in the war, they tendered their congratulations, in the spontaneous British way, by giving three rousing cheers.
To the "Radimus" the prisoners were transferred, while the captain of the "Livingstone," having drafted a report, requested the officer commanding the destroyer to forward it with all dispatch, and at the same time to send a wireless to the Admiralty announcing the bald fact that another modern pirate had been sent to its last account.
Gilroy and Terence then boarded the trawler under the command of the "Livingstone's" skipper. The latter, in spite of the success of his ruse, looked somewhat anxious. He was not quite certain what My Lords would think of the unofficial commissioning of the trawlers, and he expressed his fears to his subordinates.
"Never fear, sir," remarked the lieutenant. "We'll stand by you."
"That you will not," replied the captain. "It's my pigeon. I take the responsibility; you are under my orders."
"I don't suppose there'll be any fuss up topsides, sir," reiterated Gilroy.
"H'm! Don't know so much about that. We've attacked a hostile craft without displaying our colours: that's against the King's regulations——"
"But we've sent a far worse transgressor to the bottom, sir," interrupted Gilroy. "After all, that's the main thing."
"I suppose so," admitted his superior. "And we've done all we can to impress upon the men the urgency of official reticence and reserve."
So it happened that just before four in the afternoon the three trawlers entered Brixham Harbour, and, amidst the wild and erroneous conjectures of the inhabitants of that little Devonshire town, the naval men landed and went aboard the "Livingstone," whose engine-room staff had kept steam raised during the absence of their comrades.
Half an hour later the destroyer put to sea to resume her interrupted patrol duties.
But, somewhat unfortunately, the carefully laid plans of the skipper of the "Livingstone" went awry. The third hand of the "Myrtle" had a wife. The wife was an excellent cook and studied her man's weakness for the fleshpots of Glorious Devon. Moreover, she had a small cask of prime cider in her cottage, and Dick Ottery, the third hand, was very partial to the juice of the apple. Mrs. Ottery had a knack of extracting information from her spouse, and curiosity prompted her to question him as he fed and drank. Before the delayed meal was over, Mrs. Ottery knew as much as her husband.
At Brixham, like many other British towns, men had gone either to the Front or else to adventure themselves on the High Seas; and a committee of well-meaning ladies had volunteered to do this, that, and the other for the wives of the absent warriors.
That same evening one of the committee paid a visit to Ottery's cottage, where his sister-in-law lived since the day when her husband shouldered his kit-bag and went to report himself at Devonport as a Naval Reservist.
Mrs. Ottery, unable to keep the startling news of the sinking of the German submarine, told full details and embellished them with highly imaginative extras to the lady visitor. "Of course," she added, "it be quite a secret, my man du say."
Half an hour later the committee heard the news, also in strict confidence, with the result that when the "Livingstone" put into Portland to replenish her stock of oil-fuel the news of the exploit preceded her.
Magnified out of all proportion by the little additions it had gained in being passed from mouth to mouth, the latest version was to the effect that "the crew of H.M.T.B.D. 'Livingstone,' having been compelled to take to their boats owing to their vessel being torpedoed, were rescued by a Brixham trawler. They thereupon rammed three German submarines, sinking them with all hands."
"Absolutely without foundation," was the Press Bureau's comment, but people in the know winked solemnly. It was significant that the captain of the "Livingstone" was appointed to the command of a light-cruiser; that Lieutenant Gilroy was promoted to the rank of lieutenant-commander, and that Sub-Lieutenant Terence Aubyn, N.R., blossomed out into a lieutenant.