A Sub and a Submarine: The Story of H.M. Submarine R19 in the Great War

by Percy F. Westerman

  CHAPTER X

  The "Havornen's" Warning

  Down to fifteen fathoms R19 plunged under the influence of herdiving-rudders and water-ballast admitted to her buoyancy-tanks.Then, turning eight points to starboard, she shaped a course thatwould bring her on a diverging track to that of the destroyer.

  Already torpedoes had been "launched in" in both bow and broadsidetubes, ready for instant liberation the moment R19 picked up hertarget. Overhead could be distinctly heard the thresh of the vessel'spropellers.

  "The silly josser!" muttered the Hon. Derek. "She's slowing down. Tocapture the boats most likely. Well, that's her funeral, so heregoes."

  Having deemed that the submarine was within striking distance, herLieutenant-Commander brought her carefully towards the surface,slowly, lest a perceptible disturbance of the water should betray herpresence.

  Suddenly the object-bowl of the conning-tower periscope was floodedwith light. Right in the centre of the field of vision appeared thedestroyer at a distance of 800 yards. Without having to "con" thesubmarine either to port or starboard, Stockdale was in a position tolet loose a couple of 21-inch torpedoes with almost certain chance ofsuccess.

  With their senses keenly on the alert, the L.T.O.'s awaited the orderthat would send the deadly missiles on their way--but the order didnot come.

  Close alongside the destroyer lay R19's whaler. A short distance fromthe latter was the Berthon, making her way towards her. Both were inthe direct line of fire. It was one of those perplexing problems thatthe naval officer has frequently to solve. Ought he, in the certainchance of sending an important unit of the enemy's fleet to thebottom, to sacrifice deliberately the lives of a dozen of his ownmen? In an above-water engagement between two destroyers a skipperwould, perhaps, have to accept the risk of having half his ship'scompany put out of action before he could claim the fruits ofvictory. From a purely professional point of view it would be asacrifice well made, although deplorable; but in the present instanceit looked like a cold-blooded butchery of his compatriots.

  Even as he looked, Stockdale noticed that the destroyer'squick-firers, instead of being trained abeam, were fore and aft, andnot manned for action. Most of the crew were clustered along the sidewatching the submarine's boats, but making no hostile demonstrations.Just then a waft of air bore down. The stranger's ensign fluttered inthe faint breeze.

  It was a white cross on a red, swallow-tailed field: the navalensign of Denmark.

  Even then the Hon. Derek had his doubts. The new-comer might be a Hununder false colours, and might open fire without troubling tosubstitute the dishonoured Black Cross Ensign of Germany for the flagshe was displaying. The fact that the guns were not manned ratherknocked that theory on the head. Nevertheless R19, with the tips ofher periscopes showing, forged ahead until her Lieutenant-Commanderwas able to read the name on the destroyer's stern--_Havornen_.

  Giving the order to the torpedo-men to "stand fast", Stockdalebrought the submarine awash at a distance of 200 yards dead astern ofthe _Havornen_. Then, emerging from the conning-tower, and followedby Macquare and the Sub, he punctiliously exchanged salutes with theofficer commanding the destroyer.

  None of the submarine's officers could speak Danish. Fordyce knew afew words, picked up during his service with the Royal Seal Line, butnot sufficient to carry on a conversation. Still in a quandary, theywere agreeably surprised when the Danish officer addressed them inEnglish.

  "I am glad to see you!" he exclaimed, when the two craft drew withinhailing distance. "I thought, until I spoke to your men in the boats,that you were Germans."

  By his tone the Dane clearly indicated that his pleasure would nothave been anything so cordial if the submarine flew the Black CrossEnsign.

  "Thanks!" replied the Hon. Derek; "and we reciprocate yourexpressions of greeting." He did not think it advisable tocongratulate the Danes upon their narrow escape of being blown out ofthe water. "Might I call your attention to the fact that you arewithin a couple of miles of a German mine-field?"

  "Is that so?" asked the Danish officer. "It must have been the workof a submarine mine-layer--the one that is now hard and fast agroundoff Laeso. We will proceed, and set to work to destroy the Germans'vile handiwork. Thank you for the information. In return, let me warnyou: the Germans have recently laid a new mine-field at the southentrance of the Sound; so if your Government has given youinstructions, the information will most likely be misleading. Morethan that I dare not say, but you have our best wishes."

  With another exchange of courtesies the British and Danish vesselsseparated, the _Havornen_ making towards the region of the floatingmines, where, presently, musketry reports and, anon, the heavy roarsof a powerful explosive being liberated were evidences that the workof clearing the deadly menace to neutral shipping was in activeprocess.

  R19, having picked up her boats, gathered way and an hour later wasrounding the Skaw. Here a course S. 3/4 E. was set through theKattegat. Beyond lay the Sound, where one of the greatest ordeals inmodern naval warfare was awaiting the dauntless submarine--thethreading of the intricate, uncharted mine-field guarding theprincipal entrance to the Baltic Sea.

  "Jolly decent of that Dane," remarked Fordyce as he stood withLieutenant Macquare upon the navigation-platform. "There's not muchdoubt as to which way his sympathies incline."

  "It was," agreed Macquare. "I feel sorry for Denmark, one of the mostdecent neutral countries, looking on at the great stunt. She'd comein like a shot--she still remembers being robbed ofSchleswig-Holstein--but it would be the case of Roumania all overagain. With the German fleet having pretty nearly its own way in theBaltic it would be suicidal policy for Denmark to chip in. Well, Isuppose another twenty-four hours will either see us in the Baltic orelse at the bottom of it."

  "This new mine-field has upset our calculations," said the Sub. "YetI suppose we'll manage it somehow--we usually do," he addedoptimistically.

  In defiance of all international treaties the Huns had mined theterritorial waters of the Sound, a strait averaging five miles inwidth between Sweden and the Danish island of Zeeland. The mines were"contact" ones, anchored by means of sinkers and so arranged that thecylinders containing the explosive charges were at varying depths. Asubmarine stood an equally poor chance whether she kept just belowthe surface or crept along the bottom of the channel. The original"field" consisted of three parallel rows, the first 12 feet from thesurface, the second about the same distance from the bed of the sea,the third midway betwixt the bottom and the surface. Through thedanger zone was a narrow channel, guarded by patrol boats anddestroyers. The British Admiralty had obtained information of thisopening and had used the knowledge to good advantage, when, early inthe war, British submarines had paralysed Germany's trade with Swedenand the harbours of Stralsund, Danzig, and Memel were chock-a-blockwith merchantmen afraid to venture across the comparatively narrowstretch of water to obtain badly-wanted cargoes of Swedish iron-oreand foodstuffs.

  Now, more than likely, the mine-field was increased in width. Therewere also reports that the Huns were employing steel nets as anadditional safeguard, and had augmented the number of patrol boats.Zeppelins and sea-planes, too, had been constantly sighted south ofthe Danish islands, so that R19 was "up against" a particularly toughproposition.

  "Yes; it's easier for a mosquito to find its way through the curtainsof an old West Coaster's bed than for a submarine to nose herselfinto the Baltic," declared Macquare. "But we'll do it, laddie, youmark my words."

  Whenever the Lieutenant's grim determination showed itself heinvoluntarily rolled his "R's". He did so on this occasion, andFordyce knew that Macquare was revelling in the prospect.

  It was night. Although land was within ten miles on the port hand nota light was visible. The island of Anholt had been left astern.Another hour's run ought to bring the submarine within sight ofElsinore at the starboard side of the Sound.

  At the Lieutenant-Commander's request Flirt had been sent below, muchto her disgust, as she appreciated
the night watches crouching ondeck at her master's feet. But now absolute silence was imperative.By the sense of hearing as much as that of sight were the crew toguard against the dangers of the unlighted channel.

  Just before midnight two topsail schooners were observed, bearingnorthwards. Without attempting to submerge, R19 held on, knowing thather low-lying shape would be indistinguishable except from a distanceof a few yards. Then came a tug, displaying navigation lights andthree masthead lamps, showing that she was towing a vessel over sixhundred feet in length. These were indications that the submarine wasapproaching Denmark's principal seaport, and, although the vesselswere neutrals, there was the possibility of their skippers reportingthe presence of a submarine if the latter were spotted. And, then,where the information would eventually be sent was a matter ofspeculation, with the odds that it would reach the ears of the Germanpatrol commanders.

  Proceeding at a bare five knots, R19 was within a few miles of themine-field when dawn broke. It was a case of "hasten slowly". Toattempt the forcing of the blockade during the hours of daylightwould be courting failure and disaster, so she promptly "sounded",resting on the bottom in twelve fathoms.

  Never did a day pass more slowly. In spite of various attempts toprovide the men with amusement the enforced watch below for all handswas a long-drawn period of suspense and irritation. The period ofinaction before undertaking a task of infinite danger is always such,whether in the case of infantry waiting to "go over the top" or theship's company awaiting the order to "open fire". Once in the thickof things danger is forgotten in the enthusiasm of the encounter, butuntil then the minds of even the bravest are filled with morbidforebodings.

  It was not until an hour after sunset that the welcome order came toblow auxiliary tanks. Without making use of her propelling machinerythe submarine rose steadily towards the surface. Everything seemedquiet. The periscopes, useless except for the purpose of picking up asolitary light, revealed nothing, for the night was already as blackas pitch.

  With their night-glasses the officers swept the waste of waters.Ahead a faint "loom" indicated the position of Copenhagen. On theSwedish side a faint light flickered for a few seconds and thendisappeared.

  A quarter of an hour passed, but Stockdale gave no orders to proceed.Not that he hesitated to face the danger; he was merely waiting anopportunity.

  Suddenly the horizon away to the south'ard was swept by the rays of asearch-light. Another and yet another beam followed suit, until thesky in that direction was a blaze of light. Then the rays vanishedand a mast-head signalling-lamp began its flickering tale.

  "'QKG--TOXZ--PJ'--code, thought so," muttered theLieutenant-Commander, as he read the unintelligible message.

  "Mast-head signal astern, sir," reported Fordyce.

  The Hon. Derek swung round in an instant and levelled his binocularsat a pin-prick of yellow light.

  "Good!" he ejaculated. "That's what I was waiting for."