“Fire two!” The second one shot from the bow.
“Fire three! Fire four! Fire five! Fire six!”
In rapid order the commands came, then everyone waited tensely. March looked at his watch, counting off the seconds. Then it came—the roar, the shock of an explosion, and the mighty cheer that tore through the throats of every man on Kamongo. The first torpedo had struck home, but at that moment March called out, “Fire seven! Fire eight! Fire nine! Fire ten!” And during those commands the men heard further explosions from the first torps that had gone streaking out.
March had not been able to count how many had come, but he knew that McFee had done so. But now all were waiting for the first sounds from the aft tubes. In a moment it came—the first torpedo against the troopship, and March waited no longer.
“Take her down!” he cried. “Three hundred feet!”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DEPTH CHARGES
Three hundred feet was just about the limit for them. Pressure was terrific at that level, they all knew. But they wanted to get as far away from the depth charges to come as they could.
Kamongo’s motors whined at high pitch as they sent the boat angling down toward the bottom. As they went down March got the report that five torpedoes had hit the carrier and all four had ploughed into the troopship.