Under the White Ensign: A Naval Story of the Great War

by Percy F. Westerman

CHAPTER IX

A Midnight Expedition

"Heigh-ho! So we are up against Johnny Turk at last," exclaimed Jack Osborne. "And a jolly clean fighter too. A foeman one can admire."

"And treat with all proper respect," added Sub-lieutenant Haynes. "I remember how in the earlier part of the war people at home used to sneer at the lying Turkish communiqués, but, by Jove, they were mighty close on the bull's-eye."

"Of course I haven't had any experience of Turkish ways," remarked Webb, "but I know something of the dirty tricks of the Huns in the North Sea and elsewhere. I used to be under the impression that the Turks were an effete, lying nation, only permitted to retain a small slice of Europe by the mutual consent of the Great Powers. See how the Bulgarians and Serbs made them run only a few years ago. And now they're putting up one of the toughest fights that ever figured in history."

A fortnight had elapsed since the Portchester Castle had left Gib. for the second time. She was now cruising on outer patrol duty in the AEgean Sea, her station being on the eastern or Asiatic shore of that island-studded expanse of water.

"I suppose the Germans stiffen the Turks a bit," said Osborne. "For one thing, the presence of Hun U-boats in these waters has hampered our movements. I wonder what sort of a job ours will be to-night?"

The "job" to which the Lieutenant referred was the destruction of a hitherto carefully concealed petrol depot on the shores of Asia Minor, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Smyrna. It was from a Greek member of a Turkish coasting vessel, captured a few hours previously, that the information had been obtained of the precise position of the depot; and, in spite of the fact that it is almost impossible to trust a Greek, Captain M'Bride determined to put the information to the test. For one thing he held the informer as a hostage, much to the latter's undisguised alarm.

The discovery and destruction of these secret lairs of German unterseebooten in the Mediterranean was proceeding systematically, yet there remained a lot of work in that direction. Once the hostile submarines were deprived of the means of replenishing their stores of fuel, the menace to the merchant shipping of the Allies in these waters would cease to exist, and once more the Suez Canal could be fully utilized as an artery of commerce. Hitherto the depredations of modern pirates had succeeded in diverting a considerable portion of Far East shipping round the Cape of Good Hope, thus increasing the cost of freightage and the length of a voyage.

A messenger pattered along the deck and, approaching the three officers, smartly saluted.

"Cap'n's compliments, sir," he said, addressing Lieutenant Osborne. "He wants to see commanding officers of boats in his cabin."

"Now to business," exclaimed Osborne gleefully as, accompanied by Webb and Haynes, he made his way aft. They found Captain M'Bride leaning over the table, his head supported by his hands, and his elbows planted upon a large-scale map.

"Good evening, gentlemen!" was his cheery greeting. "We may as well go into final details of this little business. You, Mr. Osborne, will be in charge of the boats. I am sending the steam cutter, the pulling cutter, and the whaler. Now, here is your objective—Akhissareli. According to this chart, there are four fathoms to within fifty yards of the shore so long as you give that ledge of rocks a wide berth. There is a sandy bottom, so you ought to have no difficulty in getting ashore. My experience is that one usually finds soft mud in the inlets in these parts, but this gives emphatic information to the contrary. We'll take the ship in to within ten miles of the shore. The steam cutter can then tow the other boats to save the men a long and arduous pull. Use your discretion, Mr. Osborne, when to cast off the tow, but for goodness' sake don't let the Turks have an inkling of your approach. See that the leading stoker does not let even a solitary spark escape through the funnels. By the Greek's account there'll be a guard of fifteen men, so everything depends upon a complete surprise. I'll leave you to make your own arrangements, but at six bells I'll close with the shore and keep a bright look-out for your signals, so as to pick you up without delay. The Admiral is sending a couple of destroyers to keep an eye on the Portchester Castle, so we ought to be fairly safe from submarine attack. Now, Mr. Osborne, suppose you discuss your plans with your two subordinates, and if I have any criticism to make I'll do so."

As a matter of fact the skipper listened in silence while Osborne discussed the operations with the two sub-lieutenants. He had a high opinion of the young officer's sound judgment, and, listening, had no cause to alter his opinion.

"By the by," remarked Captain M'Bride when the council of war was about to break up, "I suppose you'll see that that pet of yours is left behind? Not that I have any complaint to make against him. He's turned up trumps more than once; but I think it advisable to mention the matter."

"Of course, sir," replied Osborne. "Laddie was hanging round the cook's galley, so he won't know that we're going."

But Osborne was mistaken. The dog instinctively knew that something was about to transpire. Possibly when the leading stoker of the steam cutter, who was one of the animal's special pets, proceeded to raise steam, Laddie spotted a chance of a run ashore.

So while in the darkness—for night had fallen—the landing party mustered for inspection, the dog slipped quietly up the ladder to the cutter on the booms, and concealed himself under one of the seats in the cabin.

By the feeble glimmer of a hand lantern borne by one of the quartermasters, Lieutenant Osborne made a critical inspection of the men's arms and equipment. Then, the landing party having been reported all correct, they were briefly addressed by the Captain, who, having explained the nature of the operations, bade them good luck and a safe return.

The men having embarked, the steam cutter took the two boats in tow and steered solely on a compass course shaped in the direction of the invisible Akhissareli. An hour later, for progress was slow, the loom of the land became visible, while shortly afterwards the rugged outlines of the mountains could be discerned silhouetted against the starlit sky.

"Stop her," ordered Osborne.

Still carrying way the two pulling boats ran close alongside, while their crews silently dropped the heavy ash oars into the muffled rowlocks. For the time being the steamboat was to "stand by", ready to proceed to the assistance of her consorts, should aid be necessary. It was upon the cutter and the whaler that the brunt of the operations was to fall.

Armed with a pair of powerful night-glasses Osborne took up his post on the cabin top and swept the distant shore. Everything appeared to be quiet. Not a sound was to be heard save the distant roar of the surf on a ledge of rocks well to windward of the inlet. Not a light was visible on shore. The place seemed as deserted as the polar regions.

"Sir," whispered a petty officer; "here's this dog of yours."

"How came he on board?" asked Osborne sternly.

"Dunno, sir; he's just come out of the cabin."

Osborne realized that he was on the horns of a dilemma. Unwittingly he had disobeyed an indirect order from his skipper, since he was responsible for the dog. Should Laddie bark or make a sound the success of the enterprise would be jeopardized. Briefly, the situation was this: everything depended upon the animal's behaviour. In one scale of the balance were the lives and liberties of, perhaps, fifty men; in the other the life of a dog.

Quickly the Lieutenant decided how to act.

"Now, Laddie," he said earnestly, "lie down and don't make a sound until I give you permission. Be a good dog."

Then addressing one of the steamboat's crew he continued: "Get a marline-spike from the tool-chest, Walters; that's right. Now listen. I want you to stand by Laddie. Keep one hand in his collar. At the first sign he makes of barking, hit him as hard as you can over the head. You understand?"

"Yes, sir," replied the man. He was a trustworthy and thoroughly steady-nerved bluejacket, who would not be likely to become "jumpy". Laddie's life, then, was safe in his charge, provided Osborne's pet obeyed his master's instructions.

The Lieutenant resumed his watch. By this time both pulling boats were out of sight, swallowed up in the intense darkness. At intervals he glanced at the luminous dial of his watch. The minutes seemed to drag with a persistency hitherto unknown. Surely the two boats were by this time close to their objective?

Suddenly a flash of reddish light stabbed the darkness, then a galaxy of others—a regular blaze of rifle fires. As the report of the first shot reached the Lieutenant's ears, Osborne leant over the edge of the cabin top.

"You can put that marline-spike down, Walters," he said quietly. Then, leaping into the stern-sheets and snatching up the voice-tube, he gave the order "Full speed ahead".

Even as the steamboat gathered way, half a dozen search-lights were unmasked ashore. Two of the giant beams swung seawards, the rest being directed upon the enclosed water of the creek. At the same time the rattle of musketry was augmented by the deeper bark of quick-firers and the ominous tap-tap-tap of machine-guns.

Instinctively Osborne realized that, far from being a surprise, the landing expedition had been properly ambushed. Treachery had been at work. The Greek who, fortunately, was still detained on board the Portchester Castle had deliberately misled the British. Instead of the operations being directed against a secret petrol depot, the boats found themselves up against a powerful and well-organized system of shore batteries and a strong force of troops to oppose their landing.

Clearly Osborne knew his duty. At all costs the steamboat must dash in and rescue her consorts or perish in the attempt.

Suddenly one of the seaward-directed searchlights swung rapidly past the steam cutter and, hesitating, played fairly upon the hull of a large torpedo-boat that was making at full speed in the direction of Akhissareli.

For a brief instant Osborne hesitated. He knew that British destroyers were in the vicinity, and possibly this was one tearing to the assistance of the Portchester Castle's boats. He dare not make a private signal lest the shore batteries should spot the steamboat's presence. On the other hand, there were two factors that tended to upset the friendly destroyer theory. The Turks ashore had made no attempt to fire upon the approaching craft; her outlines, as shown up by the search-lights, were unfamiliar. As she drew nearer, Osborne knew conclusively that it was a Turkish torpedo-boat, no doubt attempting to run the gauntlet of the Allied fleets.

"Let her have it," shouted Osborne, at the same time ordering the helm to be ported ten degrees, in order to bring the steamboat on a slightly converging course with that of the Ottoman torpedo craft, which, by reason of superior speed, was rapidly overtaking the British boat.

The gun-layer of the quick-firer obeyed instantly. With a lurid flash, accompanied by an ear-splitting detonation, the first shell sped on its errand of destruction. Well and truly laid was the gun, for the projectile, striking the lightly armoured conning-tower of the torpedo-boat, literally pulverized it. Five seconds later a second shell, hitting the Turkish craft just abaft the second funnel, played havoc in the engine-room. Columns of steam, gleaming like tarnished silver in the glare of the search-light, poured through the shattered deck, as, listing heavily, the torpedo-boat circled to starboard. Feebly she replied to the steamboat's fire. Momentarily she lost way, for the lucky shot had crippled her engines; while the survivors of her crew on deck, imagining that she was about to founder, or else panic-stricken by the destruction wrought by the shell, threw themselves overboard and began to swim for the shore.

That particular piece of work accomplished—the action had lasted less than a minute—Osborne again steadied the steam cutter on her course to the rescue of the trapped landing party.