CHAPTER VIII
Balked by a Sea-plane
"How so?" demanded Kapitan Schwalbe. "If we keep quiet, thecruiser--for cruiser she must be, judging by the fellow'sdescription--will weigh and proceed."
"When she does weigh we are undone," said Rix despondently. "We areswinging round our anchor. For all we know, our cable has taken a turnround hers. As soon as they heave up their anchor, our anchor andcable will be brought up with it, and then the game is up. Either thestrain will overcome our dead weight and we will be hauled to thesurface, or else they'll lower one of their brutal explosive charges."
"The situation is serious," admitted Schwalbe in a low tone, for hisLeutnant's words had produced a demoralizing effect upon the men. "Howmuch cable have we inboard?"
Rix repeated the question. A petty officer doubled forward to consultthe cable indicator. U75's anchor, when under way, was housed in atrough on the under side of the submarine's forefoot. The cable wasautomatically ranged in a compartment between the inner and outerskins, the space being always filled with water. The inboard end ofthe cable was not shackled; but to prevent its being able to takecharge and run out, an indicator was placed on the bulkhead nearest tothe cable tier. The amount of chain let go was regulated by acompressor, which was actuated from within the hull by means of leversand cranks, watertight glands being provided to prevent any leakageinto the interior of the submarine.
"Seventy-five fathoms," reported the petty officer. "When we commencedto swing we paid out the length we had taken on board when we hoveshort."
"We must sacrifice the lot, Herr Rix," decided Kapitan Schwalbe."There is no time to lose. Storm or no storm, we must slip and run forit."
It was U75's only chance, but it left her with only a small stocklesskedge-anchor and chain, insufficient to withstand a heavy strain.
The compressor was released. With a loud rumble, for every sound wasmagnified within the confined space, the rest of the cable was allowedto take charge. It did so promptly, the end of the chain giving thehull a defiant smack as it did so. U75, no longer held by her anchor,began to drift with the tide, scraping dismally over the bed of HelwichChannel.
Schwalbe was now back at his post in the conning-tower. He dare nottake the submarine to the surface until he had put a safe distancebetween him and the anchored British warship. Nor did he care to orderthe ballast tanks to be blown. Rather than allow the "pumping" of theseas to hammer the submerged craft upon the hard sand, he preferred totake the risk of letting her drag.
Fortunately the tide set evenly along the bed of the channel. Across-current would have set the submarine upon the jagged rocks of thehidden West Helwick Ridge. Nevertheless there was always the danger ofbeing hurled violently against a detached rock, or of fouling a livemine if by chance the British had laid obstructions in the channel.
Both Ross and Vernon knew the danger, but, manfully concealing theirmisgivings, they watched the faces of those of the crew who were "watchbelow". Most of the men were Frisians, broad-shouldered,blonde-featured, and generally devoid of fear. Yet the ceaselessstrain upon the nerves had already begun to tell. As hardy fishermen,they would not have hesitated to launch their open boats in a storm togo to the rescue of a hapless vessel aground on the grim sand-banks ofthe Frisian shore. As the conscript crew of the submarine, compelledto keep within the limits of a steel box that almost momentarilythreatened to be their tomb, their natural bravery was quenched.
Many of them sat upon their lockers, stolid-faced men who had alreadytasted of the bitterness of death. Others showed unmistakable signs ofexcitement, bordering on frenzy. They dreaded their life of modernpiracy. The idea of sinking hapless merchantmen was repugnant to them,for they understood the brotherhood of the sea. It would be differentif they were called upon to attack an armed British ship of war. Theyhad no option but to obey their junker officers, who in turn werecompelled to accept the misguided orders of the arch-pirate, vonTirpitz.
They were disheartened, too, for reports, in spite of the vigilance ofthe officers to conceal them, had reached them of the losses inflictedupon other unterseebooten. Occasionally they heard of a submarine crewbeing saved, but generally it was a case of total loss of all on board,by some hitherto unknown means, at the hands of the British Navy.
A hand touched Ross lightly on the shoulder. Turning, he saw HansKoppe standing in a darkened corner of the compartment.
"Can you tell me this, mein herr?" asked the seaman in a low tone. "Isit true that the English give no quarter to German seamen insubmarines?"
"I shouldn't think that they would refuse to do so," replied Trefusis."Of course, I can quite understand that an opportunity doesn't oftenoccur; but I've heard of several instances in which your U-boats havesurrendered, and the crews have been treated exactly the same as otherprisoners of war."
"I have heard differently," said Hans, "but I hope it's a mistake. Ihave a feeling that we won't see Wilhelmshaven again. And I have awife and six children at Flensburg. Our Kapitan, too, expects that wemight be denied quarter, because we have sunk your merchantmen.Believe me, I regret having done so, but we have orders. Do you knowwhy Kapitan Schwalbe took you on board?"
"Because a certain German agent wanted us out of the way, I suppose,"replied Ross.
"Perhaps," admitted Hans Koppe. "But in the event of our beingcaptured he thinks that his good treatment of you will be in hisfavour. We are, I do not mind telling you, in a very tight corner.Our fuel supply is almost run out. We cannot hope to return home byway of the Straits of Dover. Not one of our submarines has tried thatpassage of late without meeting with disaster--at least, so I heard derKapitan tell der Leutnant. Ach! It is deplorable, this war."
The rapid ringing of a gong was the signal for the watch below to turnout. A peculiar hissing noise proclaimed the fact that the ballasttanks were being emptied. U75 no longer grated over the bottom; hermotors were running almost dead slow.
Although submerged, the submarine was "pumping" violently. Seasonedmen were prostrate with sea-sickness. The air, in spite of chemicalpurifiers, was becoming almost intolerable. Everything movable wasbeing thrown about in utter disorder, while to add to the discomfort ofthe crew the covering-plates of one of the lubricating-oil tanks hadbeen strained, and at every jerk jets of viscous fluid would squirtthrough the fracture and trickle sullenly over the floor of thecrew-space.
Since the watertight doors were still closed, Ross and Vernon wereunable to get back to their bunks. Feeling thoroughly wretched, theywere glad to accept Hans Koppe's offer to lie down on a long locker.
At noon, U75 came to the surface. The storm, being short forecasted,had quickly blown itself out, but the waves still ran high.
It was a prearranged plan on the part of the three U-boats operating inthe English and Bristol Channels to communicate with each other bywireless at noon and at midnight. U75's wireless had a range of about180 miles, and although it could be "jammed", the call could not betapped by vessels other than the one for which it was intended. Tomake doubly sure, the messages were sent in code.
For nearly ten minutes U75 "made her number" without eliciting anyreply. Perhaps it was well that Kapitan Schwalbe did not know what hadhappened to her consorts. U74 was at that moment lying on her side atthe bottom of a Welsh harbour, her crew poisoned by the chlorine fumesfrom her batteries--the result of a rash curiosity on the part of herLieutenant-Commander to investigate the approaches to the anchorage.As for U77, she was flying blindly for safety, with a couple ofdestroyers hard on her track, and a naval sea-plane overhead to directthem in their search.
Foiled in her efforts to get in touch with her consorts, U75 remainedawash. The heave of the sea made it most difficult for her to use herperiscope with certainty, for she had chosen a bad pitch on herascent--the furious "overfalls" or "tide-rips" to the west of LundyIsland.
"We'll pay another visit to St. Mena's Island, Herr Rix," decidedKapitan Schwalbe, after the two officers had di
scussed the sinistermatter of their futile attempt to make use of the wireless. "To-nightat nine o'clock ought to suit. If we cannot get von Ruhle to see oursignals--for my own part, I doubt whether he is in these parts--we'llhave to do our best to get ashore. Meanwhile, keep a bright look-out.If we see any likely vessel coming this way, we'll try our luck oncemore."
"Message just received, mein herr," announced the wireless operator.
"From whom?" enquired Kapitan Schwalbe eagerly. He was devoutly hopingthat either U74 or U77 had been able to "call up".
"I cannot say, sir," replied the man as he handed a code message to hissuperior.
Decoded, the "wireless" was as follows:
"Station 41 to unterseebooten. Two hundred gallons of fuel availablehere. Will be on the look-out for signals at 1 a.m."
The message was a "general call" for a secret petrol depot to anyGerman submarine operating in the vicinity. Reference to the list ofstations showed that "41" was at Port Treherne, a remote cove on theNorth Cornish coast about fifty miles from St. Mena's Island.
"I suppose it's safe," remarked Rix.
"With due precautions--yes," rejoined Kapitan Schwalbe. "At any rate,petrol we must have. Where's the chart? Ah, there we are! It looks afairly easy place to approach, don't you think? The only danger from anavigation point is apparently this ledge of rocks--Lost Chance Reef,it's called. What unpleasant names these Englishmen give to theircoasts!"
At that moment the Unter-leutnant, who happened to be at theconning-tower periscope, reported that a large vessel was bearing downtowards them.
Kapitan Schwalbe hurried to the conning-tower. The object depicted wasthat of a modern tank-vessel about four hundred feet in length. Shewas low in the water, showing that she was well laden. In place ofmasts she had four stumpy poles supporting derricks. Right aft was thesingle funnel. The navigation bridge was well for'ard, connected withanother bridge just in front of the funnel by a long slender gangway.
"An oil-tank homeward bound!" exclaimed Kapitan Schwalbe. "Just whatwe want to fall in with. All being well, there will be no necessity tovisit either Port Treherne or St. Mena's Island. Ach! When we havetaken what we require we will set fire to the ship, and the Englishwill have a splendid view of a maritime bonfire."
The crew were ordered to their stations, the ballast tanks "blown", andU75 rose to the surface instead of "running awash", since the Kapitanhad resolved to stop the tank by gun-fire.
Even then the waves were running so high that the guns' crews werealmost constantly up to their knees in water.
Somewhat to the surprise of the submarine's officers and crew, thetank-steamer made no attempt to escape. The firing of a shot acrossher bows and the display of the black cross ensign were enough to causethe skipper to reverse her engines.
In less than five minutes, the oil-vessel was rolling in the trough ofthe sea and drifting slowly to leeward. Yet it was a somewhatremarkable circumstance that no attempt was made to lower the redensign that was proudly displayed at the stern.
Kapitan Schwalbe, with his intimate knowledge of navigation, knew thatthe only way possible to board the prize was to run to leeward of her,and let the hull of the large vessel serve as a breakwater. He alsoknew that the submarine would have to be constantly under way duringthe boarding operations, otherwise the tank-vessel, offeringconsiderable resistance to the wind, would drift down upon U75, whoseleeway was almost unappreciable.
"Send a boat, and lower your accommodation ladder," ordered KapitanSchwalbe, who, as the submarine ranged up half a cable's length toleeward of the tank-vessel, had left the shelter of the conning-towerand was standing on the platform in its wake.
"Aye, aye," was the prompt response.
"Board her, Herr Rix," said the Leutnant's superior officer. "Bringback her papers with you. Order them to pump heavy oil both towindward and leeward. We will then be able to run close alongside andreceive her hoses."
A boat containing two seamen and an apprentice was lowered from thetank's quarter and rowed to the submarine. Into it dropped LeutnantRix and half a dozen armed men. With them they took two incendiarybombs fitted with time-fuses.
Rix smiled grimly as he gained the oil-steamer's deck. The captain andfirst mate were at the head of the accommodation ladder to receive him.Most of the crew were already mustering on deck, each with a bundlecontaining his private effects.
"You prize to German boat," announced the Leutnant. "Make you notrouble and we you will not harm. First we will haf muchoil--petroleum, is it not? Order your engineer to get steam todonkey-engine, and your men--the--the---- Hein! Ach, I haf it--thehoses to get ready. When we fill up, then twenty minutes we give youto clear out. You onderstan'?"
"Perfectly," replied the British skipper, a tall, raw-boned Scot, as heeyed the podgy German Leutnant with grim contempt. "But d'ye ken yon?"
"'D'YE KEN YON?' ASKED THE BRITISH SKIPPER, AS HE EYEDTHE PODGY GERMAN LEUTNANT WITH CONTEMPT"]
He pointed skywards. Less than five hundred feet up, yet sufficientlyfar from the tank-vessel to enable the latter to screen her from theunterseeboot, was a large naval sea-plane. It was to deaden the noiseof her motors that the ship's steam-pipe was continually blowing offsteam from the time that U75 made her peremptory demand.
The eyes of the Leutnant and his six men followed the directionindicated by the British skipper's outstretched hand.
At that instant the sea-plane was visible above the towering sides ofthe British vessel.
U75 was still forging slowly ahead. In a trice Kapitan Schwalbedecided how to act. Ordering the men on deck to their diving stations,he dropped agilely into the conning-tower and gave the word for thehelm to be ported.
Thus, while the quick-firers were being housed, the submarine had drawnclose under the oil-tank's quarter. Here she was comparatively safefrom the sea-plane, as the latter could not drop any bombs without riskof exploding the highly inflammable cargo of the British vessel.
In ten seconds the sea-plane was over and beyond her quarry. She hadthen to turn and circle overhead, awaiting the chance of shattering herenemy as she dived.
U75 was already disappearing beneath the waves.
She dived at a very oblique angle, steeper than she had ever donebefore.
Ross and Vernon, unaware of what was taking place, thought for a momentthat the submarine was plunging headlong to the bed of the BristolChannel. They had to cling desperately to the nearest object to handto prevent themselves from sliding violently against a transversebulkhead.
Even as they clung they heard two muffled detonations in quicksuccession, followed by a distinct quiver of the submarine's hull--amovement that bore a marked difference to the vibrations under thepulsations of the motors.
The sea-plane had dropped two bombs, both of which very nearly attainedtheir object.
Kapitan Schwalbe did not bring the submarine to a horizontal positionuntil she had reached a depth of fifteen fathoms. At that depth he wassafe, both from explosives dropped from the sea-plane and also fromobservation. The water being still agitated, made it impossible forthe observer on the biplane to follow the movements of a dark shadowfathoms deep. For once, the rough seas had been kind to U75; but thefact remained that she was still badly in want of fuel, while his lastattempt had resulted in the loss of an officer and six men, who couldnot well be spared.
Although the sea-plane had failed to achieve her object by pulverizingthe U-boat's hull, the moral and material result was none the lesseffective.
The explosion of the bombs had started several of U75's plates.Numerous jets of water were spurting through the seams, the inrushrequiring all the mechanical appliances at the command of the modernpirate to keep the leaks under control, while the badly-jarred nervesof Kapitan Schwalbe and his crew warned them of the grave risks theyran in attempting to try conclusions with even an apparently harmlesscraft displaying the Red Ensign of Britain's Mercantile Marine.