"Well, we've had a jolly good time—take it all round—but for the flies," Bubbles said. "It will be a good thing to get back to the ship for a while."
"Won't we have a bath, and won't it be grand to get into uniform—clean uniform and under-things again!" said the Lamp-post; and Bubbles gurgled: "Won't I have a grand feed!" forgetting what the Orphan had told him of the state of the gun-room stores.
CHAPTER XIV
Submarines Appear
Down in the gun-room of the Achates, during this month after the landing, the air was full of rumours—buzzes of all sorts and little "titbits" of information, gleaned haphazard everywhere and anywhere. Every snotty—the Orphan, the Hun, Rawlins, or any of the "stranger" midshipmen—who took his boat alongside a transport or man-of-war, or to one of the piers at "W" or "V" beaches, came back stuffed with yarns which lost nothing by the telling: the Dublins had lost every officer; the Worcesters all but two; the Turks were torturing prisoners; there was a fearful shortage of doctors; the beaches were simply crowded with wounded, and there was nowhere to put them; Krithia had fallen—the yarn spread after every attack; the Prince George had a huge hole made in her by one of "Asiatic Annie's" 8-in shells; the poor old River Clyde would have to be abandoned—she was being hit so often; the Goeben and two Turkish battleships were just above The Narrows—the aeroplane had seen them—and they might come down at any moment; the Agamemnon had knocked out three "Asiatic Annies" in one afternoon; the Queen Elizabeth had fired three of her big 15-inch shells across the Peninsula—the first had sunk two big lighters filled with ammunition, the second had dropped short and only wiped out a regiment on the march, and the third had sunk a nine-thousand-ton steamer, anchored above Nagara, crowded with troops, none of whom was saved. The Pimple, who brought this last piece of news, knew it was true, because the Navigator had heard it from a man, who had heard it from the friend of a man, who had been told by the "observing" officer in the captive balloon which "spotted" for the Queen Elisabeth.
Then there was the constant rumour that "last night's counter-attack by the Turks was just their last final effort; they were going to make peace now it had failed". Poor old Turks! they had nothing to gain by being so obstinate, and they had no food and were short of ammunition—everything; they were simply longing to "throw up the sponge" if only the Germans would let them.
Russia intended landing five hundred thousand troops quite close to Constantinople; Italy was about to declare war and send fifty thousand to help in the Peninsula; the French had a hundred thousand already on the way; and Kitchener, good old Kitchener, had made up his mind to send out two hundred thousand. Shan't we walk through them?
Another snotty would burst in with the news that he had heard, on good authority, that directly all the mines had been swept up, the ships were to make another dash up The Narrows, this time towing pontoon "things" alongside them to stop torpedoes. Another heard that all destroyers had been ordered to rush through one night, steam up the Sea of Marmora, and bombard Constantinople.
There was no limit to the inventive genius of the "rumour spreaders", and the appetite for fresh, spicy news became so keen that anybody who brought back no titbit was thought a "hopeless rotter".
But one day, on the 12th May, Uncle Podger came into the gun-room with a long face: "Two German submarines have been reported passing Malta," he said. This yarn was too incredible to be believed by the young warriors coiled there, on the cushions, in their dirty Condy's-fluid-stained clothes; and they greeted it with such derisive yells, shouting, "Go away and make up something else, Fatty!" that Uncle Podger, who did not appreciate any such familiarity from strangers, did not bother to tell them that it happened to be the simple truth. This was the first day on which it became generally known that German submarines were approaching; and the certain fact caused much consternation to all, especially to those who had previously buoyed themselves with the hope that these craft could not make such a long voyage in time of war.