In its effect on tonnage losses the result of the submarine round-up was appreciable. Seven fast, seagoing submarines, gone at one stroke, meant a substantial loss to the enemy, and a corresponding saving of Allied shipping could be detected. Yet still the situation was critical. More submarines were building, and, unless more round-ups could be brought about, the outlook for the future was none too bright.
The increased vigilance of the listening crews on the drifting chasers brought its reward in other round-ups in which several ocean-going submarines met their doom. And in greater security the endless convoys carried their cargoes of munitions into Northern Europe.
CHAPTER X
THE POWER OF SUGGESTION
As the winter wore away, great troop convoys poured a seemingly endless stream of American soldiers into Northern Europe to reinforce the armies there, worn as they were with their ceaseless vigil, holding the line, but never able to push the enemy back. It was indeed a deadlock; and all the world watched in suspense. At times it was worse than a deadlock. Murad Pasha, the Turkish generalissimo, was a military genius. He kept harassing the northern lines with masterly strokes of surprise action which told heavily on the more heterogeneous, less consolidated Army of the North. The length and breadth of North America every one was “doing his bit.” All industries were mobilized for war. The women knitted socks at home or worked on farms and in factories. All watched the daily press, noting with alarm each move of Murad; eagerly grasping at hope when a colossal bombardment forced the Southern Army back ever so little. On that battle-line all thoughts were focused and all hopes were based. The navy, shielded from the daily press by two thousand miles of silent ocean, was little heeded as compared with the army. Its doings were almost unknown to the general public.
At the Azores little change of consequence occurred in the naval situation. By diligent application of the methods thus far developed, enemy submarines were from time to time found and either destroyed or damaged, but, although the menace was diminished, it was always there, and the toll of merchant and supply ships continued to be heavy. The fleet was kept in fighting trim by constant drill, and those in command were eager for a decisive action with the main fleet of the enemy. The outcome of such an action could not be foretold with any confidence, for the fleets were very evenly matched. Still, with the condition of hopeless stalemate existing in the absence of such an action, with the fear of a master stroke on land by the resourceful enemy, the men of fighting blood were ready to risk the supreme test. The enemy, however, was carefully holding his main fleet within the Mediterranean. Was there any way to draw him out? The British and American admirals speculated much concerning his disposition to engage in a major action if conditions should appear favorable. What apparent advantages, they wondered, would suffice to make him risk a meeting with the Allied fleet?
Evans, from time to time, went into the main transmitting station on shore to “test the apparatus,” and on these occasions, after making certain adjustments, would sit down with his hand on the key and send out a few seemingly meaningless dots and dashes. Whereupon Kendrick at Gibraltar would copy down a message and pass it on to Heringham in Constantinople. Also from time to time Evans, testing the receiver on the flagship, would at certain times of day write things down on a slip of paper in a leisurely manner—only five or six words a minute. After he had done this, he was apt to have a talk with Barton.
On one of his visits to the transmitting station he sent a request for information on the moot question—how did the enemy look on the possibility of an encounter with the Allied fleet? Would a slight apparent advantage in weather conditions suffice to draw him out, or must the Turkish Admiral see a chance of cutting off a small detachment of Allied ships before leaving his base? A few days later, after Evans had talked with Barton, Barton talked with Fraser, chief of staff, and Fraser talked with Admiral Johnson. It seemed, so Fraser told the Admiral, that Barton had secured advices through secret channels that the enemy’s attitude toward a possible naval action was decidedly conservative. If he had reason to suppose he could catch the Allied fleet unprepared, with weather conditions which would put the advantage of visibility on his side, he would risk action; otherwise he would hold his fleet behind the defenses of Gibraltar until he could catch a detachment of the Allied fleet far enough from support to warrant the hope of cutting it off and destroying it.
Each month at the date set in the key to Bela’s code book for the change of code, the Intelligence officers of the enemy noted with satisfaction that a considerable part of the Allied radio traffic made sense in the new code. The rest of the traffic, they concluded, was probably nothing but dummy messages sent to disguise the times of increased volume which would otherwise give evidence of naval activity, a well-recognized practice. The loss of the seven submarines was still a complete mystery, and as their commander had had no opportunity of reporting back to headquarters any of the messages they had heard concerning the mythical convoy, nothing had yet transpired to arouse any suspicion about the code.
At Punta Delgada the prisoners taken in the great round-up were carefully guarded on a ship of the fleet, never allowed on shore, and only seen by one or two trusted persons who took them their food. No one save Admiral Johnson, the four officers who had stood on the bridge of the destroyer during the round-up, and two or three others at Headquarters, knew how the submarines had been lured to their destruction. All others simply supposed they had first been located by radio compass, and then more exactly by the hydrophones of the drifting chasers; and incidentally both of these facts were true.
One day late in February, Fraser was in the radio room of the flagship discussing with Evans the intricate system of radio communication by which her many diverse duties as the brain of the fleet could be performed in battle without mutual interference. The discussion was profitable to both, for though a chief of staff cannot afford to encumber his mind with an excess of technical details, nevertheless a clear understanding of the principles on which the directing mind coördinates the moving parts of a fleet is useful to all concerned. It was the way in which principles were applied, rather than minute details, with which this discussion dealt. Fraser desired to prolong the conversation to a greater length than was feasible in the radio room; so at last he said, “Let’s go ashore and talk over these things where there isn’t so much going on.”