CHAPTER XVII.
THE END OF THE "BLUECHER."
THE "Livingstone," second destroyer in the port-column of theflotilla, was speeding through the long undulations of the North Seaat a modest twenty knots. It was barely a quarter past seven onSunday morning. Dawn had not begun to show in the eastern sky, andalthough a dozen or so of the destroyers were in company, only thepartly-screened stern lights of the one ahead and the phosphorescentswirl of the one next astern betrayed the presence of others of theflotilla.
Something was in the air. Officers and crew knew that, but vaguely.Orders, significant in their brevity, had been issued overnight forthe ship's company to bathe and change into clean clothes. That initself meant the possibility of an action, while the sudden call tothe flotilla to proceed to sea instead of completing the fortnight's"stand-by" in the Forth indicated that no minor operations werecontemplated.
The "Livingstone" was cleared for action. Ammunition had been servedup, fire hoses rigged, deck fittings removed, and every otherpossible precaution taken to safeguard the frail craft in theimpending action.
The crew were on the tip-toe of expectation: eager to get in touchwith the enemy and fearful lest they should find themselves out on awild-goose chase.
The action, should it materialize, would not be of a minor character,for broad on the starboard beam of the flotilla, though invisible inthe darkness, were the giant battle-cruisers "Lion," "Tiger,""Princess Royal," "New Zealand," and "Indomitable."
Flung out, fanwise, were the handy and hard-hitting light-cruisers,supported by other destroyer flotillas, and serving as a screen tothe battle-cruisers should any hostile torpedo-craft attempt theirvaunted "lancer-thrust" against them.
"Something doin' this time, Aubyn," remarked Gilroy, who wasresponsible for keeping the "Livingstone" in station. "Wireless fromthe 'Arethusa' just through, reporting strong enemy squadron.There--look."
The sub. turned his head just in time to catch the flash of a distantgun, quickly followed by another and another. Half a minute latercame the dull rumble of the first report. The light-cruisers were intouch with the enemy away to sou'-sou'-east.
A signal lamp flickered from the flagship:--
"All destroyer flotillas proceed to support the light-cruisers.Engage enemy destroyers."
Like hounds released from leash the long, lean, black-hulled craftdashed forward. No need to give a compass course: the nowrapidly-recurring flashes told them where their work lay.
Under copious supplies of oil fuel, the "Livingstone's" enginesquickly developed more horse-power than they had ever done before.Trailing lurid flames issued from her four squat funnels, and threwtheir ruddy glare upon the determined faces of the guns'-crews.
Ahead, and on the starboard hand, and astern the position of the restof the flotilla was likewise indicated by the spurts of flames fromtheir furnaces. Noxious oil-fumed smoke belched in dense columns,glowing like fanned charcoal as it eddied clear of the funnels. Thescene resembled a section of the Black Country transferred bodily tothe North Sea on a pitch-dark night.
"By Jove, we're in luck!" shouted Gilroy, in order to make himselfheard above the hiss of the wind as the destroyer tore at thirty-sixknots towards the scene of action. "We've just picked up a wirelessto the Flag. We're up against the 'Moltke,' 'Seydlitz,' and'Derfflinger,' three of Germany's best battle-cruisers, with that oldcrock the 'Bluecher' chucked in, to say nothing of a swarm oflight-cruisers and destroyers. Beatty's got his chance this time:he'll bag the lot with the force he has at his disposal."
And the lieutenant pointed in the direction of the Britishbattle-cruisers, whose position could now be faintly distinguished,well on the port beam, by the splash of flame from their funnels.
"We'll give them something in return for Scarborough, Whitby, andHartlepool," continued Gilroy. "Ten to one the beggars were off totry the same game again. By Jove! I pity any German submarine thatgets foul of that crowd," and he indicated the far spread-out line ofdestroyers speeding towards their foes.
Just then the lieutenant-commander of the "Livingstone" ascended thebridge.
"Rotten luck, Gilroy," he announced. "The Germans are funking it.They've turned tail."
"The battle-cruisers will head them off yet, sir," suggested Gilroyconfidently.
"I hope so--ha! what's this?"
A signalman had just hurried up.
"Destroyers to take up position on battle-cruiser's port quarter,"said the skipper. "Confound it! That's put the pot on it, Gilroy."
"It's our smoke, sir, that's troubling the 'Lion,'" replied thelieutenant.
Dawn had now broken sufficiently to discern the lofty hulls, triplefunnels, and masts of the five battle-cruisers, as they raced attheir maximum speed on a south-easterly course. The four guns of thetwo foremost superimposed turrets of the "Lion" were already trainedto their greatest elevation, awaiting the report of the fire-controlplatform that their quarry was within hitting distance.
Gilroy was right. The smoke from the destroyers was drifting acrossthe line of fire of the giant ships.
"It's a case of get out and get under--their lee," commented thelieutenant-commander, as a signal was sent up from the parent ship ofthe flotilla ordering the destroyers to fall back out of the way ofthe hard-hitters of the fleet.
As the day dawned the thick haze of smoke that marked the position ofthe runaway raiders could be seen, although from the bridge of thedestroyer the hostile ships were invisible. The cannonading away tothe sou'-east had now ceased; apparently the enemy torpedo-boats hadattained a temporary security under the wing of their larger craft.Suddenly Terence remembered that he had not had his breakfast.Although it was not his watch, excitement had kept him on deck, andnow in the lull the workings of the inner man demanded attention. Itwas a quarter to nine when he entered the mess. Three minutes later,before the steward had time to bring in the coffee, a terrificdetonation caused the "Livingstone" to shake like an aspen leaf.
Breakfast completely forgotten, the sub. dashed on deck. He knew whathad happened: the "Lion" had fired the opening shot of the engagementwith one of her monster 13.5-in. guns.
She was not yet within range. Terence realized that by the fact thatshe did not follow the single shot by salvo after salvo, that theprojectile--weighing nearly a ton--had shrieked ineffectually towardsthe rearmost of the German ships.
To the sub. it seemed as if the fifty odd feet of steel cylinder thatprojected from the "Lion's" B turret was rising slowly on itscomplicated mountings. Obedient to the master-hand in thefire-control platform the giant weapon was being "laid" upon aninvisible target 20,000 yards away.
Then--_flash! crash!_
Flames of cordite enveloped the whole of the fore-part of the "Lion."Above the bank of haze from the so-called smokeless powder, thegunnery-lieutenant in the fire-control platform was coolly watchingthe result of his second trial shot.
There was no doubt about it. The British battle-cruisers, peltingalong at 28 1/2 knots, were slowly but surely overtaking their prey.Already the "Bluecher," credited with but a fraction over 25 knots,was falling astern of her consorts. In their frantic dash for thesafety of their own mine-fields the three swifter vessels paid noheed to the fact that one of their own ships was sooner or later tobear the brunt of the Englishmen's guns.
Naval chivalry which caused the gallant "Monmouth" to share the fateof the luckless "Good Hope" in the action off Coronel was foundwanting amongst the disciples of "kultur." Instead of attempting tocover the "Bluecher's" retreat, the "Derfflinger" and herfellow-raiders ran, abandoning her to her fate.
Terence glanced at his watch as the first salvo burst from theavenging "Lion." It was nearly ten minutes past nine. Truly, hethought, it was a magnificent sight to see Beatty's flagship wreakingvengeance upon the cowardly bombarders of Scarborough; yet in thelight of a general action it seemed a one-sided affair, as shellafter shell sped on its way towards the still invisible German shipsand none came in reply.
Gilroy, perched up
on the bridge weather-rail, was coolly takingsnapshots of the "Flag" with a pocket kodak. The men of the destroyerwere so impressed by the sight of the "Lion" in action that it waswith the greatest difficulty that they could be brought to realizetheir position: to watch for any lurking submarine that might seizean opportunity of loosing a torpedo against the swiftly-moving massof 26,000 tons displacement.
A column of spray flung high in the air at fifty feet from the"Lion's" starboard beam announced the fact that the Germanbattle-cruisers had been overhauled sufficiently for them to get therange of their pursuers. Then shell after shell began to fall aroundthe flagship. Occasionally a projectile would strike a glancing blowagainst the armoured sides of the British vessel, but unswervinglyshe held on, if anything increasing her rapidity of fire.
A hoist of flags fluttered up to the signal yard arm of the "Lion"and stood out as stiff as if made of sheet iron in the strong breeze.
From the leader of the flotilla came the answering pendant, each ofthe destroyers acknowledging the signal in turn. Enemy torpedo-boatswere threatening an attack, and the British destroyers were to beatoff the hornets that had the audacity to attempt to hurl themselveswithin torpedo-range of the battle-cruisers.
"Now for it," thought Aubyn, as he left the bridge and took up hisstation at the after 4-in. gun.
Swift as was the "Lion" the speed of the destroyers was greater.Forging ahead they left the battle-cruisers well on the starboardquarter. Heavy projectiles, passing handsomely over the short mastsof the "Livingstone" and her consorts "straddled" the "Lion," somefalling short, others ricochetting from the water two hundred yardsin her wake.
The contest between the rival destroyer flotillas was of shortduration. Apparently the German boats had no intention of joiningaction. It was merely a manoeuvre on their part to screen theiralready severely damaged battle-cruisers by means of dense columns ofsmoke.
In a sense they were successful, for under cover of the pall of blackvapour the larger German ships altered course and steered in anortherly direction, but as the torpedo-boats drew off Terencediscerned for the first time one of the enemy battle-cruisers.
She was listing heavily to port. Flames were bursting from heramidships, her funnels had disappeared and two legs of her tripodmast. Yet in spite of her damaged condition she was endeavouring tocrawl out of line, slowly shaping a course to the nor'-nor'-west.Still firing as she wallowed in her death-agony, she was being markedfor special attention by the "Indomitable," which, under theadmiral's orders, had hauled to port to complete the work ofdestruction.
"Hurrah! The 'Bluecher's' done for!" shouted the torpedo-gunner ofthe "Livingstone."
Terence could hardly believe his eyes. Was that battered wreck thesame vessel that a few weeks before he had seen pouring death anddestruction into the peaceful town of Scarborough?
He brought his glasses to bear upon the ill-fated raider. In spite ofher enormously thick armour huge rents were plainly visible in hersides. One of her heavy gun-turrets had been blown clean away. 'Tweendecks the greater part of her was a glowing furnace. It seemed amarvel how the crew could maintain even the feeblest fire, yet, underthe influence of morphia supplied by their officers, half-dazed menstill worked the remaining effective guns with the ferocity ofmadmen.
Then the "Tiger," showing scars of honourable wounds, but stillvitally intact, came up, hurling shell after shell into the doomedvessel.
Cat-like in her death-agonies the "Bluecher" sought to deal herantagonist a _coup de grâce_ by letting loose a torpedo.
Keenly alert to such a possibility, the cool and collected captain ofthe British battle-cruiser detected the ripples that marked theapproach of the deadly "tin-fish." Ordering the "Tiger's" helm to beput hard over, he had the satisfaction of seeing the torpedo miss itsmark by a bare twenty feet.
As the "Bluecher" showed no sign of surrendering it was necessary tohasten her end. Looming up through the black and yellow smoke thatdrifted in huge volumes to lee'ard came the saucy "Arethusa."Fearless in the midst of a rain of light projectiles her torpedo-mengathered round two of her above-water tubes. At any moment a fragmentof a shell might strike the warheads of the two missiles ere theytook the water, and send the light-cruiser to her doom.
Like a trick swimmer making a clean dive, the first of the gleamingcylinders left the tube and disappeared amidst the feathery spray.Five seconds later the second torpedo sped on its way to destruction.
The first alone would have been sufficient. Striking the "Bluecher"fairly amidships the powerful weapon blew a gaping hole in the hullof the already foundering vessel. More and more she heeled, till thewhole length of her bilge keel became visible.
With the characteristic consideration to a beaten foe the Britishvessels ceased firing. Instinctively the German sailors knew thatthey were free to leave the doubtful shelter of the armoured portionsof the ship and to save themselves, if possible.
Aft poured the scorched and dazed survivors of the ship's company,forming up upon the steeply shelving deck. Some, with a devotion totheir Fatherland, broke into song with "The Watch on the Rhine,"while the officers, linking arms, stood awaiting the final plunge--ifplunge it might be called.
"Jump, you silly blighters!" shouted an excitable bluejacket from the"Arethusa," and the invitation was taken up by others, while thecrews of the light-cruisers and the nearmost destroyers hastened tolower boats to assist in the errand of mercy.
"She's going!" ejaculated Gilroy, as the huge hull turned completelyover on its side, and with hardly any agitation of the sea slidgently under the waves, throwing those of her crew who had notalready jumped into the water.
The "Livingstone" by this time had come to a standstill at about acable's length from the spot where the "Bluecher" had disappeared.The only boat she had fit for service was lowered, and into itclambered Terence and four seamen.
Before they had gone fifty yards Aubyn noticed that the boat wasleaking badly. Already the water was above the floor boards. One ofthe men was obliged to use the baler vigorously, while the otherskept to their oars, the sub. holding the boat on her course by meansof considerable lee helm.
"Lay on your oars, men," exclaimed Terence, and leaning over the sidehe was just in time to grasp the hair of a scorched and blackenedGerman bluejacket as he was sinking for the last time. Two more menwere rescued, one stark naked, save for an inflated swimming collar;the other wounded in half a dozen places by pieces of flying metal.
So intent were the crews of the numerous boats upon their work ofsaving life that they failed to notice a new peril. Only a warningshout from the quarter-deck of the "Arethusa" recalled them to thefact that they were not fighting civilized foes but enemies whosemethods of waging war were on a par with those of the old RedIndians, the ferocious Boxers, or the fanatical tribes of Somaliland.
Overhead was a Zeppelin, accompanied by a couple of Germanwaterplanes. Although it must have been perfectly obvious to theobservers that the British tars were rescuing their beaten foes, theaircraft began a rapid bombardment with bombs.
One missile, fortunately without exploding, dropped an oar's lengthfrom the "Livingstone's" boat. Others, detonating with a sharp crack,assisted in sending a score or so of the "Bluecher's" crew to theirdeath.
Filled with fury, that during the engagement had been foreign tothem, the British tars were compelled to relinquish their task ofsaving life. Back to their respective ships they rowed, and a hail ofprojectiles was launched against the treacherous Zeppelin and herconsorts.
This was more than the unwieldy gas-bag could stand. Circling andascending higher and higher she flew out of the danger zone and madeoff back to Heligoland.
But the engagement was not yet over.
From the flagship of the admiral commanding the destroyer flotillascame a signal:--
"Proceed to N.E. and engage enemy-destroyers and submarines."