It would be untrue to say that we were not disappointed. The fear of indefinite postponement was now much stronger. But everybody realised to the full that the chances of success under adverse conditions were practically nil. Discussion paved the way to many suggestions of improvement—at any rate, we intended to derive what benefit we could from the abortive attempt.
CHAPTER XIII
THE SECOND ATTEMPT AND RETURN. PREPARING FOR
THE THIRD ATTEMPT. REWRITING THE ORDERS.
GERMAN OPTIMISM
I will not weary the reader with a repetition of our life at the Swin—the second edition differed little from the first. There were still chances of a new start during the present period. The weather, however, was most unkind. We summoned up all the patience that we could muster. The news from the battle front in France was becoming increasingly serious. We felt that somehow or other, we didn't quite know how, a successful operation on our part might help to stem the German advance. If only we could get started!
At last our second chance came. The wind had changed back to a northerly direction. The "stand-by" order was received. "Carry on" followed. Once again we started off, as enthusiastic as ever; if our previous determination had not increased it was because no increase was possible.
Hindustan cheered us out again, and, in our inmost thoughts, we thanked them. Soon after we had cleared the Swin anchorage a destroyer hove in sight and signalled that she had a letter for Vindictive. We ordered her to stop a couple of miles ahead of us and transfer the letter by boat. Commander Brock came on board with it; we had thought he had been prevented from joining us. "We must push in to-night," that was the tenor of the letter. The message was passed round the ship and down the line of blockships. It reflected our own feelings—"We must push in to-night." Once again we passed many merchant vessels with their crews crowded on deck to view the unusual spectacle which we made. The wind had gradually increased in strength, an uncomfortable sea was rising. The prospects appeared none too rosy for the small craft. Some twenty miles had been covered when the almost inevitable became a certainty—the operation was once more postponed.
The open sea had become so rough as to render the use of small craft quite impracticable. There was nothing for it, back we had to go once more.
Little enough was said on the subject this time; we were learning to hide disappointment. The reaction from all our hopeful optimism caused us to wonder if any other chance would be offered us. Surely this enterprise was not to be stillborn after all the signs of life that it had shown. It is advisable, perhaps, not to analyse our thoughts too fully, but they tended to breed fatalism. We tried to look upon the turn of events as a "rub of the green"; we endeavoured to appear unruffled.