CHAPTER XXXIII
A SPLINTER OF SHELL
Almost before the cheering died away an alert seaman raised the warning cry of "Submarine on the starboard quarter."
He had just caught a glimpse of the pole-like periscopes of a submarine ere they vanished beneath the surface of the placid sea.
Of her nationality there could be no doubt. A British one would have had no occasion to submerge, since the stranded monitor flew the White Ensign from a spar temporarily set on end and lashed to a stanchion in lieu of her demolished ensign-staff.
The "U" boat was evidently standing by to cover the flight of the Zeppelin should any cruiser stand in pursuit, for the airship was flying comparatively low, instead of the usual altitude of ten thousand feet, when annihilated by the "Anzac's" fire. Having witnessed the destruction of the Zepp., the "U" boat had approached the monitor with the intention of avenging the loss of the air-raider. She had no idea that the "Anzac" was aground, for by this time she was almost waterborne and lay on practically an even keel; while, since the whole of the sandbank was submerged, there was no indication of shallow water.
Nevertheless it seemed as if the monitor would fall an easy prey to the German torpedo, for there was not a single gun that could be brought to bear in the direction of the submarine.
Tressidar was not kept long in suspense. The feather-like wake of the approaching weapon was clearly visible as the torpedo made unerringly towards the immovable target.
"Stand clear there, aft!" shouted the sub.
Those of the crew who had been watching the approach of the submerged weapon promptly scurried across the deck so as to be as far from the point of impact as possible. Of serious damage to the monitor there was little fear, owing to the complex nature of her bulging sides. The loss of twenty feet of side plating would matter but little, since the buoyancy of the monitor would not be appreciably altered.
But the expected explosion did not occur. Set to run at a depth of twelve feet, the torpedo struck the sandy bottom at a distance of between eighty and a hundred yards short of the target.
For another twenty yards it ploughed through the sand, until its delicate rudders were damaged by tearing through the comparatively hard substance. Then with an erraticity that torpedoes have been known to display, the weapon made a sharp curve, and rising to the surface continued its undecided way like a hydroplane, its course being marked by a line of spray in its wake.
Again the monitor's crew cheered—this time ironically. The shoal that had proved a stumbling-block was now guarding the stranded craft in no uncertain manner.
After a lapse of a quarter of an hour the submarine cautiously poked her periscopes above the surface, although quite half a mile from the spot where she had previously dived. Once more she fired a torpedo, with almost the same result, for instead of turning on impact with the shoal, the weapon struck nose first into the sand and remained there.
The commander of the "U" boat was evidently puzzled. He could not understand why the two torpedoes should have missed the mark; he was also at a loss to account for the fact that the British vessel had not attempted to open fire.
Nevertheless he was wary. With the idea of drawing the monitor's fire, he released one of the communication buoys, towing it a hundred yards astern of the submerged craft. The resistance of the buoy caused a decided feather of foam that could not escape the eyes of the crew of the monitor. At the end of five minutes the buoy was drawn under the surface and taken on board the "U" boat again, by means of an automatic winding machine and a system of "air lock" doors. Examination showed that the relatively easy target was untouched.
Hence the commander of the German submarine came to the correct conclusion that the monitor was not capable of defence. Again the periscopes appeared above the surface and a prolonged examination of the British vessel was made. The German officers soon came to the decision that it was safe to rise and attack the monitor by shell fire, provided the "U" boat kept on the starboard quarter of her enemy.
"There she is, sir!" reported a petty officer to Tressidar, as the "U" boat rose to the surface at a distance of nearly two miles off.
Glasses were brought to bear upon the submarine, and it was then seen that the Germans were preparing to use their two "disappearing" guns. To reply was impracticable, for the submarine was well beyond effective rifle-range, and the sole serviceable turret gun could not be trained sufficiently abaft the beam to bear upon the enemy.
"Action stations!" was the order. Since the crew were without present means of offence or defence, all they could do was to take cover behind the armoured parts of the ship and "take their gruelling "; but every moment the tide was rising, and before long it would be possible to back off the shoal, turn and bring the gun to bear upon the Hun.
With little delay the "U" boat opened fire. The first half-dozen shells flew either above or wide of the monitor, but presently the small but relatively powerful missiles began to find a mark.
From his post in the conning-tower, which, in spite of the fractured dome, was proof against the small-calibre shells, Tressidar watched his opportunity. He made no effort to get the "Anzac" off the shoal until he felt certain that she would glide off without difficulty. Then, he hoped, there would be time to train the 14-inch gun on the submarine before she had a chance to trim for diving—and only two rounds for that particular weapon remained.
The gun, already loaded, was trained as far aft as possible, so that the moment the monitor swung round it could be brought to bear.
A leadsman, risking the flying fragments of shell, ran forward and, throwing himself at full length upon the low fo'c'sle, took soundings.
"By the mark two less a quarter," he announced.
"Good," muttered the sub. "That's what we want."
An order to the engine-room and the twin propeller began to churn up water and sand. With hardly a jar the monitor glided astern—and struck again, this time by the heel.
"Full speed ahead port engine; starboard, easy astern," shouted the sub. through the voice-tube; then, in his eagerness to see whether the vessel would answer to her helm, he left the shelter of the conning-tower.
The next instant he felt as if he had hit his head violently against a door-post. Thousands of lights danced before his eyes. Vainly he clutched for support. His fingers closed upon empty air. He was dimly conscious of falling on the deck and of someone throwing his arms around his waist, and then everything became a blank.
* * * * *
When Tressidar recovered consciousness he found himself lying on a cot that had been brought upon deck and lashed down on the aft-side of the shell-torn superstructure.
Standing by were two sick-bay stewards, who, in the absence of a doctor, had been attending to their youthful "skipper."
Almost the first thing of which the sub. became aware was the fact that the monitor was again under way. The steady roll combined with the subdued thud of the engines proclaimed the pleasing news. Also the firing had ceased, which tended to prove that the "U" boat had either been sunk or had taken herself off.
"Have we settled her?" were Tressidar's first words.
"She's done for, sir," replied the second quartermaster. "Only——"
"Only what?" asked the sub. anxiously, for the face of his informant had disappointment written on every feature.
"We were just out of it, sir. Turret gun was about to bear when the 'U' boat went bang. One of our seaplanes did the trick, sir; only we were within a brace of shakes of plugging her with a 14-inch shell at the same time. Didn't spot her at that distance until she planked a bomb fairly on the strafed Hun's conning-tower—and she was only about a hundred and fifty feet up when she let rip. That's the worst of those seaplanes, sir; always nosing in where they ain't wanted, if you don't mind my saying so," he added apologetically and at the same time with a tinge of professional jealousy.
Tressidar smiled. By so doing he became aware of a pain shooting through his head.
"Well, what have I got?" he asked, addressing one of the sick-bay staff.
"Steel splinter embedded in right femur——"
"Right what?" repeated the sub. anxiously. "That's the right thigh, I believe? But my head?"
"All right, sir, as far as we know," reported the man. "No doubt it is the sudden shock to the system, sir; I've known it like that before to-day. We've had to leave the splinter in the wound, sir, but we'll soon have a surgeon on board. We're just approaching Harwich. We've exchanged signals and asked for medical assistance."
"There's a steamboat making for us now, sir, added the quartermaster.
"Any casualties?" enquired Tressidar.
"Five men down, sir. The last half a dozen shells from that submarine tickled us up a lot."
"Very good; see that the doctor attends to them first," said the sub. "Don't say a word about me until they have been dealt with."
"But we have already reported that you've been hit, sir."
"Then annul that part of the signal," ordered Tressidar firmly. "I'm quite comfortable. Now, remember, the men are to be seen first."
By the time the busy fleet-surgeon was free to attend to the sub.'s injuries, Tressidar was far from comfortable. Hot, throbbing pains shot through the wounded thigh. From the waist upwards he felt cold and shivery. More than once he felt as if he were on the point of losing consciousness again.
"It's no use disguising the fact, Mr. Tressidar," said the doctor in answer to the sub.'s point-blank question. "You have had a narrow escape. But for the prompt attention of these men in checking the flow of blood from the femoral artery you would have bled to death."
"Shall I lose my leg?" asked Tressidar, his mind filled with apprehension at the possibility—not so much of being a cripple, as of having to sever his connection with the Service.
"I think not.... No, no operation until we get him ashore.... Yes, up to our eyes in work... quite a big action... we had them this time... Our casualties heavy.... Shotley full up... had to send for additional staff."
These disjointed sentences were what Tressidar overheard in a conversation between the fleet-surgeon and his assistants. "Quite a big action." Not, of course, The Day, but a fairly decent scrap somewhere in the North Sea.
"Hurrah!" exclaimed the sub.
"Here, this won't do," remonstrated the doctor. But the reproof fell upon deaf ears. The sub. had relapsed into unconsciousness.