CHAPTER XIV--Out of the Fight
With the pumps ejecting copious streams of water the damaged _Calder_held gamely on her way, daylight adding to the horrors of the aftermathof battle. The hull echoed to the clanging of the artificers' hammersand the dull thud of the caulkers' mallets as the undaunted and tirelessmen proceeded with the work of stopping leaks. On deck steps were beingtaken to clear away the debris, and to set up a pair of temporaryfunnels of sufficient height to carry the smoke clear of the side. Thesole remaining gun was overhauled and again made fit for action in caseof necessity. Although not anxious to fall in with a U boat or a strayZeppelin, the _Calder's_ crew were determined to take every precautionto keep the tattered ensign still flying from the temporary staff set upaft.
For another hour the destroyer crawled on her long journey towards thecliff-bound shores of Britain. Then Sefton issued an order which wasrepeated aft and down below. The engines were stopped, the remnants ofthe crew mustered aft, and the battle-scarred pieces of bunting loweredto half-mast.
The _Calder's_ crew were about to pay their last homage to those oftheir comrades who had gallantly laid down their lives for king andcountry.
Fifteen hammock-enshrouded forms lay motionless at the after end of thedeck. Bare-headed their messmates stood in silence as Sefton, with apeculiar catch in his usually firm voice, read the prayer appointed forthe burial of those at sea. Then into the foam-flecked waves, thebodies of those conquerors even in death were consigned, to find anundisturbed resting-place fathoms deep on the bed of the North Sea.
It was no time for melancholy. At the word "Dismiss" the men troopedfor'ard, for there was plenty of work to do, and, in the navyespecially, hard but necessary work is rightly considered one of thebest antidotes for grief.
Snatching at the opportunity to visit his chief, Sefton hurried below tothe shattered ward-room, where Crosthwaite lay on a mattress that smeltabominably of cordite and the lingering odours of poison-gas. Thelieutenant-commander had by this time recovered consciousness, andgreeted Sefton with a bad attempt at a smile.
"We've kept our end up," he said feebly. "Think you'll get the old shipback to port?"
"I trust so," said the sub guardedly. "I'll do my level best."
"I know," assented Crosthwaite. "Still, you've a stiff job. I'll be onthe bridge in another half an hour and give you a spell."
Sefton said nothing. He realized that many hours--nay, days--would passbefore his chief would again assume command. Crosthwaite was quick tonotice his subordinate's silence.
"Suppose I've had it pretty badly," he admitted reluctantly. "It was arotten business getting knocked out at the critical time."
"Nothing much happened after that," explained Sefton. "We were out ofit within twenty seconds from the time you were hit."
"Man alive!" protested Crosthwaite. "You're altogether wrong. Fornearly ten minutes I was lying there quite conscious and watching you.You're a plucky fellow, old man."
Before Sefton could reply he was called away. A Zeppelin had beensighted, flying in the direction of the badly mauled _Calder_.
Quickly the remaining gun was manned. Although not intended for aerialwork, modification to the original mounting permitted it to be trainedwithin ten degrees of the perpendicular, supplementary sights havingbeen fitted to enable it to be laid while at extreme elevation.
The air-ship was still four miles off, and flying at an altitude ofabout 2000 feet. Apparently undamaged, it was proceeding at a rapidpace against the wind.
Deprived of the advantage of speed and manoeuvring powers, the destroyerwould fall an easy prey to the Zeppelin's bombs unless the _Calder_could make good use of her solitary 4-inch quick-firer. The weapon wasloaded and trained abeam, the gun's crew being ordered to take cover,and thus give the destroyer the appearance of being incapable ofdefence.
Sefton made no attempt to alter helm. He had made up his mind to waituntil the huge target came within easy range. He knew that the _Calder_was under observation, and that the Germans were trying to ascertain thenature of the destroyer's injuries. Should they come to the conclusionthat the slowly-moving British craft was powerless of doing damage theywould not be likely to waste ballast in ascending to a safe altitude anda corresponding loss of hydrogen in descending after the attack.
Nearer and nearer came the huge air-ship, her bows steadily pointing inthe direction of the destroyer. Range-finder in hand, Sefton curbed hisimpatience. Not until the Zeppelin bore at a distance of 2500 yards didhe order the gun's crew to their stations.
With a vicious spurt of flame and a sharp, resounding detonation the4-inch sent a shell hurtling through the air. Admirably timed, it burstapparently close to the silvery-grey envelope. Almost instantly a hugecloud of black and yellow smoke shot from the Zeppelin.
A rousing cheer burst from the throats of the British seamen. The cheerwas taken up by the wounded heroes down below, who, having heard in somemysterious manner of the air-ship's approach, were waiting the issue ofevents with mingled confidence and regret that they themselves wereunable to assist in "strafing the sausage".
The cheers literally froze on the lips of the men on deck, for when thesmoke cleared away the Zeppelin was a mere speck, 10,000 feet in theair. Under cover of a discharge of smoke she had dropped a largequantity of ballast and had shot vertically upwards to a safe altitude.
The Hun in command had received orders not to attack unless he could doso without risk, the Zeppelin being specially detailed for observationwork. With a range of visibility of fifty or sixty miles she was of farmore service to the discomfited German High Seas Fleet in warning themof the position of their victors than in strafing a solitary destroyer.
With solid water sweeping her fore and aft, the _Calder_ still struggledon her course, steered by the hand-operated gear in conjunction with theinefficient boat's compass. Hitherto the leaks had been kept under, butnow the water was making its way in through the shattered fore-deck.
Reluctantly Sefton came to the conclusion that he would have to give theorder "abandon ship" before many minutes had passed. Already theknowledge that the old _Calder_ was slowly foundering had becomegeneral, yet there was no panic.
Calmly some of the men began to collect all the buoyant materials theycould lay their hands upon for the purpose of constructing rafts, sincethere were no boats left. Others stuck gamely to the task of manningthe pumps, while the wounded were carried on deck in order to give thema chance of getting clear of the sinking ship.
At seven in the morning a vessel was sighted to the west'ard proceedingin a nor'-easterly direction. After a few minutes of anxious doubt as toher nationality, she proved to be a Danish trawler--unless the nationalcolours painted on her sides and the distinguishing numbers on her sailswere disguises.
Altering her course, the trawler bore down upon the _Calder_ and sloweddown within hailing distance to leeward.
"Come you all aboard," shouted the Danish skipper, a tall,broad-shouldered descendant of a Viking forbear. "We save you. Plentyroom for all."
"We don't want to abandon ship yet," replied Sefton. "We may weather ityet."
"An' I think that you answer so," rejoined the skipper. "You Britishseamans brave mans. Englishmans goot; Danes goot; Germans no goot. Mestand by an' 'elp."
"Seen anything of the battle?" enquired the sub.
The Danish skipper nodded his head emphatically.
"Germans run for port as if Satan after them," he declared; then,realizing that he had paid the Huns a compliment, he hastened to add:"No, no; Germans too fond of wickedness to run from Satan--it is fromthe English that they run. Ships sunk everywhere, dead men float bythousands: we no fish for months in these waters."
This was the first intimation that the _Calder's_ crew received ofJellicoe's failure to combine annihilation with victory. Victory itundoubtedly was; but, although the Grand Fleet had succeeded in gettingbetween the enemy and his North Sea bases, the Huns, favoured bydarkness and fog
, had contrived to elude the toils, and were skelteringfor safety with a haste bordering upon panic. Jellicoe and Beatty haddone everything that courage and science could devise. They hadinflicted far greater losses on the Huns than the latter did upon us.And, what is more, the British fleet "held the lists", while theboastful Germans, crowding into Wilhelmshaven and other ports, spenttheir time in spreading lying reports of their colossal victory over thehated English.
"You no look surprise at the news," continued the master of the Danishtrawler. "Me think you cheer like mad."
"Of course, we're glad," replied Sefton, "but it is not quite what weexpected, you know. We're sorry that the enemy got away."
"Me, too," agreed the Dane. "Germany treat little Denmark badly. Shebully; we cannot do anything. Shall we run alongside an' take you andyour crew off?"
Sefton gave a glance to windward. It seemed as if the seas weremoderating. His reluctance to abandon ship increased. The _Calder_ hadplayed her part, and it seemed base ingratitude to leave her to founder.
"THE 'CALDER' HAD PLAYED HER PART, AND IT SEEMED BASEINGRATITUDE TO LEAVE HER TO FOUNDER"]
"I don't think she's settling down any further, sir," replied one of thecarpenter's crew in answer to the sub's question. "Bulkheads areholding well."
"Then we'll carry on," declared the sub, and, warmly thanking the Danefor his humanity, he courteously declined the offer of assistance.
"Goot luck, then!" replied the skipper of the trawler as he thrust thewheel hard over and ordered easy ahead. Yet not for another hour did hepart company. Keeping at a discreet distance from the labouringdestroyer, he remained until, the sea having moderated, and the _Calder_showing no further signs of distress, he came to the conclusion that thebattered British craft stood a fair chance of making port.
For the next couple of hours the _Calder_ was continually passingwreckage, scorched and shattered woodwork testifying to the devastatingeffect of modern explosives. The destroyer was passing over the sceneof one of the many isolated engagements that composed the memorablebattle and certain British victory of Jutland.
"A boat or a raft of sorts, sir," reported a seaman, pointing to afloating object a couple of miles away, and slightly on the _Calder's_starboard bow.
Sefton brought his binoculars to bear upon the objects indicated by thelook-out. At regular intervals, as it rose on the crests of the waves,a large raft known, after its inventor, as the "Carley" was visible. Anexaggerated lifebuoy, with a "sparred" platform so arranged that in theevent of the appliance being completely overset the "deck" would stillbe available, the "Carley" has undoubtedly proved its value in thepresent war. Practically indestructible, not easily set on fire byshells, and with an almost inexhaustible reserve of buoyancy, the raftis capable of supporting twenty men with ease.
Slowly the _Calder_ approached the life-buoy. She was doing a bare 3knots; while, able to use only one propeller, she was hard on her helm.
"Wot are they--strafed 'Uns or some of our blokes?" enquired an ordinaryseaman of his "raggie"; for, although the men on the raft were nowclearly visible, their almost total absence of clothing made itimpossible to determine their nationality.
"Dunno, mate," replied his chum. "'Uns, perhaps; they don't seem in no'urry to see us."
"'Uns or no 'Uns," rejoined the first speaker, "skipper's goin' to pull'em out of the ditch, if it's only to show 'em that we ain't like them Uboat pirates."
"Strikes me they're pretty well done in," chimed in another. "There'snot one of 'em as has the strength of a steerage rat."
Huddled on the raft were fifteen almost naked human beings. Some wereroughly bandaged. All were blackened by smoke and scorched by exposureto the sun and salt air. Another half-dozen were in the water,supporting themselves by one hand grasping the life-lines of the raft.
By this time they had observed the _Calder's_ approach; but, contentthat they had been seen, the exhausted men engaged in no demonstrationof welcome. They sat listlessly, with their salt-rimmed eyes fixed upontheir rescuers.
At a great risk of crushing the men in the water, the destroyer closed.The "Carley" was secured and brought alongside, and the work oftransferring the survivors commenced. Without assistance the majoritywould never have been able to gain the _Calder's_ deck, so pitiful wastheir condition owing to a night's exposure to the cold.
They were British seamen, but Sefton forbore to question them until theyhad received attention from the hard-worked Dr. Stirling, and beensupplied with food and drink from the already sadly-depleted stores.
When the men had recovered sufficiently to relate their adventures, theytold a typical story of British pluck and heroism. They were part ofthe crew of the destroyer _Velocity_, and had taken part in a nightattack upon von Hipper's squadron.
In the midst of the melee a hostile light cruiser, tearing at 27 knots,rammed the _Velocity_, cutting her completely in twain just abaft theafter engine-room bulkhead. Swallowed up in the darkness, the sternportion of the destroyer floated for nearly ten minutes before itfoundered. Of what happened to the remaining and larger part of thevessel the survivors had no definite knowledge, although some were underthe impression that it was towed away under fire by another destroyer.
Left with sufficient time to cut away a "Carley", the remnant of the_Velocity's_ crew found themselves adrift, with the still engagingvessels steaming farther and farther away.
Without food and almost destitute of clothing, for in anticipation of aswim the men had taken off the remainder of their already scanty"fighting-kit", their position was a precarious one. The rising seasthreatened to sweep them from the over-crowded raft, while the bitterlycold night air numbed their limbs. Yet, with the characteristiclight-heartedness of the British tar, the men passed the time in singingrousing choruses, even the wounded joining in.
At daybreak they were pretty well exhausted. No vessel was in sight.They were without food and water, and unable to take any steps to propeltheir unwieldy, heavily-laden raft in any direction.
Presently a large German battle-cruiser loomed through the mist. TheHuns must have had a bad attack of nerves, for, contrary to all thedictates of humanity, they let fly a dozen quick-firers at the raft.Possibly they mistook the low-lying object for a submarine. Fortunatelythe shells flew wide.
Then, to the surprise of the remnant of the )Velocity's* crew, theGerman ship suddenly heaved her bows clear of the water and disappearedin a great smother of foam and a cloud of smoke.
A rousing cheer--it is wonderful how much sound men can give vent toeven when almost dead through exhaustion--hailed this unexpecteddeliverance from one of many perils, and the seamen settled themselvesto resume their prolonged discomforts, buoyed up by the unshaken hopethat a British vessel would bear down to their assistance.
It was indeed remarkable how quickly most of the _Velocity's_ menregained their spirits after being received on board the _Calder_.
One, in particular, was displaying acute anxiety as to the condition ofa bundle of one-pound notes, which, sodden with sea-water, he hadcarefully removed from the pouch of his solitary garment--a body-belt.Amidst a fire of good-natured chaff, the man spread his preciousbelongings out to dry--an almost impossible task owing to the showers ofspray--until, taken compassion upon by a sympathetic stoker, he wentbelow to the stokehold and successfully completed the delicateoperation.
Another survivor stuck gamely to a wooden tobacco-box. His messmatesknew the secret, but, when questioned by the _Calder's_ men, hecautiously opened the lid, displaying a couple of white rats. Beforegoing into action, the man, having doubts as to the safety of his petsin the fo'c'sle, had stealthily removed them aft, placing the box in theofficers' pantry. When the _Velocity_ was rammed he did not forget hisdumb friends. At the risk of his life, he went below and secured thebox. Throughout the long night he kept the animals dry, onlysurrendering them to his chums when his turn came to leap overboard andlighten the already overcrowded life-buoy.
The rest of
the day passed almost without incident. Food was runningshort, for, in spite of the sadly depleted number of the _Calder's_crew, there was barely another day's provisions left on board that hadnot been spoiled by fire and water. In addition, the augmentation ofthe ship's company by the rescued crew made the shortage still moreacute.
Just as night was coming on a petty officer approached Sefton andsaluted.
"For'ard bulkhead's giving, sir," he reported, as coolly as if he wereannouncing a most trivial occurrence. "There's four feet of water inthe for'ard stokehold."
The safety of the _Calder_ and her crew depended upon that transversewall of steel. Once this bulkhead yielded to the terrific pressure ofwater, no human ingenuity and resource could save the battered destroyerfrom plunging to the bed of the North Sea.