CHAPTER XII
The Turkish Biplane
A WEEK passed. Although the _Portchester Castle_ was far from beinginactive, the result of almost continuous patrol work amongst theislands of the AEgean Sea produced nothing in the nature of thecapture or destruction of a hostile craft. There had been numerousfalse alarms; suspicious vessels had been chased, overhauled andboarded, only to find that their papers were in thorough order andtheir cargoes of a non-contraband nature; wild-goose expeditions hadbeen carried out in search of imaginary petrol depots--all of whichwere most disappointing. The only redeeming feature of the businesswas that the presence of a strong fleet of patrolling craft tended tocurtail the enemy's activities. The mere knowledge that theapproaches to the Dardanelles were closely watched, acted as adeterrent both to the Turkish torpedo craft and the German submarinesthat had been sent hither, in a vain attempt to drive the Alliedfleets from the open water of the Mediterranean and to stifle themerchant shipping of that inland sea.
Before the expiration of those seven days Sub-lieutenant Tom Webb wasreported fit for duty. Thanks to clean living and a robustconstitution, he made rapid progress under the skilful care of theship's doctor. His regret for Osborne's loss was almost equal to thatof Laddie's master.
The latter was badly hit by the catastrophe. Although he gave littleoutward sign of his grief, he felt the loss of his pet acutely.
"He may turn up again, old man," said Webb consolingly. "Just aslikely as not he was left on board the torpedo-boat. If so, thedestroyer's people will look after him until we get in touch withher."
"I wish I could share your opinion, Tom," replied Osborne. "But Ican't see how that could possibly happen. Laddie wouldn't remain onboard when I left. No, I'm afraid he's gone for good; and it's thehorrible uncertainty of his fate that makes matters worse."
Captain M'Bride, too, was profuse in his sympathy.
"Of course, Osborne," he remarked, "I can't very well send out ageneral wireless asking if one of our destroyers has picked up a dog.I'd possibly get rapped over the knuckles by the Admiral for mypains. But I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll write a private letter toa chum of mine at Lemnos--he's the skipper of the _Tarbox_--and askhim to institute enquiries. I'm rather inclined to favour Mr. Webb'stheory, you know."
"Thanks, sir," replied Osborne. "It would be----"
"Aeroplane on our port quarter, sir," shouted one of the look-outmen.
The three officers hastened to the bridge, where the officer of thewatch had already brought his telescope to bear upon the approachingair-craft.
"A Johnny Turk, sir," reported the watchkeeper. "There are crescentson her planes."
A bugle blared "Action Stations". The two anti-aircraft guns weremanned, while the quick-firers were trained to their extremeelevation in the hope that the oncoming aerial foe would still be asufficient distance from the ship to enable the weapons to be broughtto bear upon the swiftly-moving target.
Already it was too late for the ordinary quick-firers to be ofservice. The "anti's" alone had to be employed to fire at the Turkishaeroplane. Should the latter elect to rise to a great altitude thecomparatively feeble weapons would be of little use. On the otherhand, the higher the aeroplane rose the greater difficulty therewould be of hitting a moving target like the _Portchester Castle_.
The two guns spoke almost simultaneously. By the aid of the"tracers", thin wisps of smoke from the soaring projectiles, it wasquite easy to follow the flight of the shrapnel shells. Both burstseemingly close to the enemy air-craft. The observers in the armedmerchant-cruiser could see the delicate smoke-wreaths from thedetonating projectile being riven by the rush of air from theswiftly-moving machine. For a few seconds the aeroplane appeared tofalter; then steadying herself, continued her flight undamaged.
Ten seconds later a bomb crashed into the sea, exploding with aterrific detonation within fifty yards of the _Portchester Castle's_starboard quarter. It was near enough to send a shower of spraycompletely over the ship's poop, while fragments of metal rattledagainst her steel sides.
Again a shrapnel shell burst overhead, but so far from the targetthat Osborne involuntarily exclaimed, "Rotten shot"; but, the instantafter, "anti No. 2" succeeded in making the aeroplane side-slip fornearly a hundred feet before it recovered and circled in order toregain a favourable position for dropping more explosives.
Instinctively Tom Webb edged nearer the chart-house, but only for amoment. Captain M'Bride and Lieutenant Osborne were standing rigidand apparently unconscious of the danger. Their example, coupled withthe fact that if the bomb did hit the bridge there would not besufficient fragments of the chart-house to fill a pint measure,steadied the Sub's nerves. Many a time he had been in danger of beingblown sky-high by mine or torpedo. He had grown used to such perils;but the unprecedented possibility of being pulverized by an enemythat could be seen had been responsible for his unpremeditated effortto gain a useless shelter.
Meanwhile the _Portchester Castle_, having been given the fullest useof the helm, was swinging to port. As she did so, the second bombfell where her bows would have been had she held on her course.
"That was a near one, Osborne," remarked Captain M'Bride calmly, ashe wiped the spray from his eyes, for the cascade of foam had falleninboard, some of it flying over the elevated bridge. "This chap is asticker for business. See, he's making another circle."
At that moment a man rushed up from below, and, leaping over thestanchion-rails, disappeared beneath the waves. Osborne and Webbhastened to the end of the bridge, but the suicide never appearedagain.
It was the Greek, who had been detained on board pending his trialfor treachery in connection with the thwarted attempt upon thenon-existent petrol depot of Akhissareli. According to custom, allprisoners are released from cells when the vessel goes into action;and, profiting by this circumstance, the Greek, terrified by thecrash of the guns and the explosion of the bombs, had escapedexecution by order of a court-martial by choosing a voluntary death.
"He's cheated the hangman," remarked Osborne. "But what's the nextmove?"
The officers' attention was again directed towards the hostileair-craft. The biplane had swung round, in order to make yet anotherattempt to bomb the war-ship.
The Turkish airman was not lacking in daring. Reckless of the_Portchester Castle's_ anti-aircraft guns, he volplaned from a heightof three thousand feet until he had descended to less than twohundred and fifty feet from his target.
In so doing he unconsciously swung to leeward, and got within themaximum elevation of the 4.7-inchers. One of the gun-layers saw hischance and took it. With a shrill screech the projectile sped fromthe inclined muzzle of the powerful weapon. It was a splendid shot,but hardly good enough, for, without exploding, the shell passedcompletely through the right-hand planes.
Again the biplane lurched heavily, and side-slipped to within ahundred feet of the sea. Then, with superb skill, the airman rightedthe damaged machine. He had had enough. It was now his endeavour tosave himself by flight if possible.
"Cease fire!" ordered Captain M'Bride in stentorian tones. "She'sdone for."
Lower and lower sank the crippled aeroplane, despite the efforts ofthe pilot to keep her clear of the surface of the water. With astrange spiral-like motion the biplane carried on for nearly a mile,then with a tremendous splash struck the water, reared her tailtwenty feet in the air, and promptly disappeared from sight.
"There he is, sir; there's the pilot!" shouted a score of voices, asthe head and shoulders of the airman were to be discerned bobbing upand down on the waves.
"And he's still alive," added Webb, still keeping his telescopebearing upon the scene of the biplane's dive.
"Away sea-boat!" ordered the skipper, at the same time telegraphingfor "Half-speed astern".
There was a rush to man the boat. The jack-tars, who a few momentspreviously were in danger of being blown to atoms, were now eager toshow their appreciation of a brave foe by doing their level best tosave his life. Although Johnny
Turk had, on several occasions, madethings pretty hot for the Allies, the British seamen and soldiers,unanimously regarding him as a clean fighter and far superior inchivalry to the Hun, were quick to recognize his good qualities.
Before way was off the ship the sea-boat, commanded by Dicky Haynes,had been disengaged from the falls, and was pulling strongly in thedirection of the airman, who, although unable to swim, was beingsupported by an inflated air life-belt.
Speedily the Turk was lifted into the boat. For a few moments he felta trifle uncertain of the manner of his reception, but he was quicklyput at his ease by the young Sub, who, finding that the airman spokeFrench, was able to maintain a simple conversation.
"You are a prisoner of war, sir," said Captain M'Bride, throughHaynes's interpretation, when the airman was brought on board the_Portchester Castle_. "We are quite agreeable to letting you haveplenty of liberty, providing you give us your parole. You will bewell treated, and, subject to certain restrictions, allowed freedomof movement. If, on the other hand, you are discovered engaging uponany action likely to prejudice the safety of the ship, then thepenalty will be death."
The airman, who announced himself as Afir-al-Bahr, Flight-lieutenantof the Ottoman Navy, showed unmistakable signs of sincere gratitudefor his rescue and generous treatment. He swore by Mohammed and hisfather's beard--the most binding oath that a Mussulman can take--toabide faithfully by the terms under which his parole was granted.
Later on in the day he became quite communicative. He admitted thathis heart was not in his work. He was one of the educated class ofTurks who realized, perhaps too late, that Germany had selfishulterior motives in her profuse expressions of friendship for hernear Eastern ally. He was sensible of the friendliness of GreatBritain towards the Ottoman Empire in times past, and regretted theturn of events that had compelled the Porte to throw in its lot withthe Hun.
"But since we are enemies," he added, "we must fight bravely untilAllah wills that Ottoman and Englishman shall again sheathe thesword."
"Quite a decent sort," declared Webb to his chum Osborne later in theafternoon. "Did you notice how tactfully he evaded a chance questionon the part of the skipper? He couldn't have given a direct answerwithout betraying some of the Turkish war plans. By Jove! what acontrast to those Hun officers we had on board the old _Zealous_.Comparisons may be odious, but a German is a jolly sight moreodious."
"Seen this, you fellows?" asked the junior watch-keeper, holding outa slip of paper. "Something doing this trip, I fancy."
It was a decoded wireless message, brief and to the point.
"Mail-boat _Sunderbund_ reported torpedoed, latitude 34° 15' 20" N.,long. 22° 4' 16" E. Passengers and crew taken to boats, supposedmaking for Alexandria. _Portchester Castle_ to proceed andinvestigate to eastward of position; _Restormel_ to westward.Immediate."