by Shaun Lewis
‘I am, sir. Have you read my book, The Riddle of the Sands?’ Childers spoke with an
Irish accent.
‘Indeed I have, and I very much enjoyed it. But I had no idea you had joined the Flying Corps. I thought yachting was more your line. In fact I had no idea you had joined the RN.’
‘Oh, this is just a temporary assignment and I’m on an RNVR commission. I wonder. You say your name’s Miller. I think I work for your father. He has a son in submarines. Is he …’
Adams cut him off quickly. ‘Miller, in the same way that it would be wrong of me to pry into your mission, you will understand if we cannot divulge the reasons for our presence here. We were on a reconnaissance mission over the mainland, encountered thick fog, became disorientated and ran out of fuel and oil. It might be a perfectly decent day here, but it’s a completely different story over the coast.’
‘Frankly, Adams, I don’t give a fig for your mission. I might add that coming to your rescue is greatly inconveniencing my own. However, I suggest you both come down to the wardroom for a mug of hot tea and we can decide what we are to do with you.’ Richard turned his back on the two aviators and descended into the submarine without a further word.
Over a mug of tea and a cold ham sandwich Adams was a little more conciliatory as he explained that his aircraft had been launched from the seaplane carrier HMS Engadine and he hoped to be able to return to his ship. Clearly E9 carried no aviation spirit, so the best he could hope for was a tow.
‘I’m not towing you all the way back to England,’ Richard retorted.
‘Not at all,’ Adams quickly added. ‘If you would give me your present position, then we could work out a course for Engadine or one of the escort force. They shouldn’t be more than thirty miles distant.’
Richard and Steele showed the pilot the position and together they calculated that it was more likely that Engadine was forty miles away. After exchanging a few private words with Steele, Richard reached a decision.
‘I’m sorry, Adams, but I can’t afford the time to offer you a tow. It would take me the best part of a day and who knows where your mother ship might be by then. She would no doubt have given you up for lost and moved on.’
Richard could see the dismay on both Adams’s and Childers’s faces. ‘Instead, I intend sinking your machine and running you pair back to your ship. All told, we could achieve that in four to six hours and I can then proceed in accordance with my orders.’
‘But, I beg you. That’s a valuable machine. Besides, we would need to recover the photographic plates. Without them, several lives might be lost needlessly.’
‘My mind is made up. That’s the best I can offer.’ Richard turned to Steele. ‘Take two seamen with you and place some gun cotton charges on the seaplane. These gentlemen can give you a list of anything valuable that ought to be retrieved from the machine first. Just don’t take too long about it. We’re late for our rendezvous as it is.’
*
Within the hour, Steele and his assistant, Able Seaman Davies, had removed the seaplane’s camera and plates, mission notes and charts, and were preparing to set the gun cotton charges. The seaman in the rubber coracle drew their attention to a smudge in the air to the east. Steele called for the binoculars and recognised the cigar shape of a German Zeppelin approaching at high speed. Looking across to E9, he was relieved to see that the lookouts on the bridge had spotted it, too, and Miller quickly appeared.
‘I say, Davies, pray pass me that satchel. Quickly, if you please. Thank you. Now I suggest you return with this stuff to the boat PDQ and leave me to set the charges. I have no doubt that our captain may be anxious to make a hurried dive very shortly.’ Steele passed over the last of the objects to the seaman in the coracle.
‘But what about you, sir? Am I to send the boat back for you?’ Davies asked.
‘Perhaps not just yet, Davies. Let’s see what develops, shall we? We’ll leave that decision to the captain. Now cut along. I’m busy.’
Steele commenced setting the charges, but did so unhurriedly. He hadn’t handled explosives for some time and was anxious to do the job properly. Even so, as he heard the engines of the airship above, it was tempting to abandon the task and attempt to swim back to the submarine. He felt sure that Miller would be preparing to dive the submarine at any minute. After setting the charges on the aircraft’s floats, he decided it would be prudent to place another in the tail and clambered back up to the fuselage. He looked up at the Zeppelin. It was now making a low pass over E9. The noise of the propellers was quite deafening and he could clearly make out the airship’s tactical number. Looking back to his submarine, he could see that the inflatable boat had been stowed inboard, but to his surprise, there seemed to be no signs of E9’s bridge being cleared preparatory to a dive. Indeed, he saw Miller waving his cap in a friendly manner to the crew of the airship above. It was disconcerting to see that the down-draft of the Zeppelin’s powerful engines was driving the seaplane further from E9, but there was nothing he could do about it for the moment.
He crawled down to the tail of the seaplane and laid his final charge. Behind him he could hear the Zeppelin’s engine noise recede as it completed its pass overhead. The charges laid, he was able to observe its movements more carefully. The airship began a lazy turn to port with the apparent intention of making another pass overhead. Surely the Germans must have recognised E9 as British by now? After all, it was obvious from her markings that the seaplane was British. Miller, too, must have had the same thoughts as Steele suddenly heard the bang and rush of air as the main vents of E9 were opened and the submarine began to dive. Mercifully, all the main vents opened this time and he saw Miller just had enough time to give him a wave before, seconds later, the fin of the submarine disappeared beneath the waves.
Meanwhile, the Zeppelin had completed its turn and lined up on the wake of the invisible submarine. It quickly caught up with E9’s last visible position and dropped two bombs ahead. Steele dived head first into the cockpit and heard the two bombs explode. Tentatively raising his head above the side of the aircraft, he looked for any sign of E9, but saw nothing. After fifteen anxious minutes, a feeling of dread gripped his guts. Had the bombs struck home and sent the submarine to the bottom? If not, then it looked as if Miller had rightly put the submarine first and abandoned him. Either way it was clear that he was marooned.
Chapter 19
‘Admiral Tate will see you now, Miss Miller, Mr Marshall. Please come this way.’
‘Here we go, Mark. It’s time to enter the lion’s den.’ Elizabeth and her chief naval architect, Mark Marshall, followed the young Paymaster Lieutenant from the ante-room into the office of the Controller of the Royal Navy and Third Sea Lord, Rear Admiral Frederick Tate.
‘Mr Marshall and Miss Miller, of Miller’s Shipyard, sir.’ The Paymaster Lieutenant closed the mahogany double doors behind them and left the Christians to meet their fate.
Marshall was not surprised to see that the Admiral was accompanied by his naval assistant, Captain Edwards, but he did not recognise the Commodore to his other side. Elizabeth, however, appeared to know them both. Miller’s yard had built the battleship HMS Audacious, in which Edwards had served as the Engineer Commander, so he and Marshall had met already. He was amused to see the surprise on Tate’s face at meeting Elizabeth. The poor man looked in shock and quickly scanned a piece of foolscap paper on the gleaming mahogany conference table behind which he was standing.
‘I’m sorry, madam, but there seems to have been a misunderstanding. When I agreed to this meeting I was led to understand that Miller’s Yard would be represented by the managing dDirector, Mr Charles Miller. Who may I ask are you?’
Marshall was pleased to see that Elizabeth appeared calm and serene in the face of such misogyny.
‘Good morning, Admiral. May I present Mr Mark Marshall, our chief naval architect? I am the managing director of the yard. Gentlemen, please take a seat and I will explain.’
Eli
zabeth smiled both at Keyes and Edwards and, as she shook their hands, Marshall noted that the latter was barely containing his amusement at his admiral’s discomfort. Without waiting to be invited, Elizabeth sat down at the other side of the table and beckoned to the three men opposite to do the same.
Before they took their seats, Edwards introduced the Commodore. ‘Marshall, delighted to see you again. Allow me to introduce Commodore Roger Keyes, the Commodore Submarines. Commodore, I believe you already know Miss Miller.’
‘Indeed. Miss Miller and I became acquainted last year at the commissioning of her cousin’s submarine. I am delighted to renew the acquaintance, Miss Miller. I am only sorry to have twice been the cause of the postponement of your wedding.’ Turning to Tate, Keyes went on, ‘This young lady is engaged to be married to one of my officers, but alas, the exigencies of the Service were such that he sailed on patrol before having time to complete the nuptials.’
Elizabeth acknowledged Keyes with a nod and replied, ‘I am beginning to wonder, Commodore, whether, perhaps, I should have asked you to lead me down the aisle as a means of ensuring the event went ahead.’ She turned to Tate.
‘Admiral, my brother Charles handed over the running of the business to me soon after war was declared. He has joined the colours and is presently serving with the Armoured Car Squadron, somewhere in France or Belgium, I presume. He doesn’t tell me in his infrequent letters.’
Having followed his visitor’s invitation to take a seat in his own office, Tate appeared to have recovered from his surprise. ‘Madam, I mean, Miss Miller, I was sorry to hear of the tragic loss of your father. He was well regarded in ship building circles, but I cannot see how this meeting is to serve any purpose. After all…’
‘Thank you for your kind sentiments, Admiral, but I hope we can agree that Miller’s have continued to construct some fine ships, even after my father’s untimely death. Would you not agree, Captain Edwards?’
‘Very true, ma’am. The destroyers Wolverine and Lizard both met, and in the latter case, even exceeded, the contract requirements for twenty-seven knots. My old ship, Audacious, is proving a most reliable ship, too,’ Edwards replied.
‘That may be so, Miss Miller, but that was with your brother at the helm of the company. Let me be candid. I never wanted this meeting. Were I to agree to meet with every prospective yard seeking an Admiralty contract, the day would need to be seventy-two hours long. Indeed, I thought it rather underhand of your uncle to have used his position in the Admiralty to exert undue influence on the First Lord, to insist on me discussing your yard’s proposal. Some might call it profiteering. Now I learn that the yard is headed by a young woman, however charming and good looking.’
‘Let me stop you there, Admiral, before you slander my family further. My Uncle William did no such thing. It was Lord Fisher who approached Mr Churchill on my behalf.’
Marshall held his breath as he looked sideways at Elizabeth. He saw her neckline begin to redden and recognised the danger signal from painful experience. It meant that Elizabeth’s temper was rising. If Miss Elizabeth lost her rag then there would be no way of securing the Admiralty contract. So far, the temper was in check, but he knew that the level of the flush would increase in proportion to her anger. If the reddening reached the ears, then God help all present.
‘Miss Miller speaks the truth, sir,’ Keyes cut in.
‘And how come you by this information, Keyes?’ Tate asked acidly.
‘Sir, I and various other parties have been holding meetings with Sir John Jellicoe on how we might take a more offensive stance towards the enemy. We have agreed that with more E-class submarines we would have an opportunity to take the fight to the enemy in Germany’s own back yard. It was Sir John who asked Lord Fisher to approach the First Lord informally.’
‘But we already have yards building these submarines. Vickers have already built eight, including the two Australian boats, and Chatham four. They’re both proven yards at building this type of submarine.’
‘But, sir,’ Keyes replied patiently. ‘These yards are taking between twenty and thirty months from laying down the keel to completing the boats. We simply cannot afford to wait that long. Not only do we need more yards turning out more submarines, but if you examine the proposal carefully, sir, you will see that Miller’s are proposing to truncate the build time to just eight months. Should the war go on beyond Christmas, as we all know it will, then that time difference might well prove vital. Indeed, I have recently attended a meeting with Admiral Jellicoe and the War Staff to finalise plans for an imminent offensive operation that centres on the deployment of this class of submarine.’
‘The shortened build time had not escaped my notice, Keyes. I am quite capable of assimilating a report.’ Tate tapped the paper before him. ‘Tell me, Miss Miller, how is it that it takes experienced yards up to thirty months to build an E-class submarine, but suddenly a yard led by a woman with no ship building experience, can do the job in a mere eight months?’
‘Very well, Admiral.’ Elizabeth addressed him in an icy tone. ‘I have spent all my life in my late father’s shipyard and come to understand it top to toe. As a mere woman, long ago I learned the art of listening to men talk. My cousin happens to command one of these boats and, thanks to him, I and Mr Marshall here have had the opportunity to inspect every frame and system of my cousin’s submarine. It is apparent to us that by making just a few modifications to the design, we can streamline the build process and turn out three submarines in the time it takes to produce one today.’
‘But your cousin had no right to let civilians wander over one of our submarines willy-nilly. That sort of thing is confidential, if not secret. Nobody so irresponsible should be in command.’ Tate retorted. ‘Who is this young pup, Keyes?’
‘Sir, the irresponsible young pup in question has just sunk a cruiser and been awarded the DSO.’ Keyes replied with apparent satisfaction.
‘Indeed?’ Tate appeared to think that this fact made everything all right. ‘Be that as it may be. What are these modifications that you think will make all the difference, then, Miss Miller?’
‘They are quite simple, really. I have listed them in my proposal, but the first of two key differences is that we will not manufacture the engines ourselves. I am aware that Vickers have not been meeting their contractual deadlines of late, largely on account of difficulties in the production of the engines for the submarines. Our plan is that this task would not only be sub-contracted to Vickers, but also to FIAT in Italy. We would simply fit the first engines available and the remainder would be made available to you for other submarines in build, or the component parts would act as spares for defective engines.’
‘And who would meet the bill of the increased order for engines, Miss Miller?’
‘That is covered in our proposal, Admiral, but to answer your question directly, the Admiralty. My engineers estimate that you will need at least one spare engine for every four hulls. That leads me to the second key proposal.’
Marshall could see that Tate was starting to take Elizabeth more seriously now. Elizabeth continued.
‘The nation is at war and much of the peacetime paraphernalia of red tape must be brushed to one side. Whilst regular reporting and close scrutiny of the costs of alterations and additions is laudable in peacetime, cost must now be subordinated to speed. We propose that a senior technical officer is appointed to our yard with the authority to approve any increases in expenditure of up to a budget of twenty per cent of the build cost without any paperwork whatsoever.’
Tate gasped at the idea, but recovered and turned to his technical aide. ‘And what is your view, Edwards. Do you really think this will make the claimed difference?’
‘Sir, I am no expert in submarines, but technically the proposal appears to have some sense. I venture that the proposal has legs.’
‘And what do you propose to charge for your services, Miss Miller? It is apparent you will not deny yourself the opportunity to
profit from the country’s urgent need for these submarines.’
The two naval officers winced and Marshall noted Elizabeth’s flush deepening in colour and fast approaching the ears. Oh my God, he thought. She’s going to blow any minute. However, Elizabeth affected not to have noticed the jibe.
‘I am aware, Admiral, that Vickers and Chatham have charged you up to £107,000 for their hulls, but now that war is upon us, they are proposing an increase of ten per cent to cover the increased costs of sourcing raw materials.’
‘And how, by Jove, have you come by that information? Is your uncle the source?’
‘No, Admiral. All men and even women of business like to keep their ears to the ground and we each have our sources in our competitors’ yards. We are offering to build each of the E-class submarines, to the revised specification listed in our proposal, at a cost of £105,000 each. That small reduction in cost is in spite of the improved design and the sub-contracting of the engines to Vickers and FIAT, but … provided we receive a minimum order of six submarines to cover the costs of the investment in a new slipway.’
Marshall started. That wasn’t what they had settled before the meeting. The yard only had the capacity to build three boats and they had agreed to bid for four and compromise on the three, or even a contract for two hulls.
‘And how might we have confidence in your ability to deliver each vessel to cost, specification and time, Miss Miller?’
‘Had the Admiralty any qualms on that score, then I hardly see that it would be continuing to give us orders for the light cruisers we currently have on the stocks, Admiral.’
‘Yes, but no offence, dear lady, that was before we learned of the change in management of the company. Indeed, are you not the same Miss Elizabeth Miller that sabotaged E9 just a few months ago in the name of the suffragette movement?’
‘Oh, I am sure you meant no offence, Admiral. Yes, I splashed some paint over one of your precious submarines, but it cannot have done any harm. This very submarine has just sunk a cruiser. Perhaps we should christen every submarine the same way.’
