“Picket boats lead us in. I shall be aboard the first. We shall break through the gates. The expectation is that Centurion will have been able to open the gates for us – though not by knocking politely.”
They laughed, out of courtesy.
“My first party will scale the walls and take the big guns. Mr Caton will begin the clearance of the main fort. Mr Hawkes will have the rear walls. Parties following, two from Centurion and one each from the destroyers – first Centurion to hold the gates under an officer, remaining three groups to follow Mr Caton – he is quite visible! There is a friendly Chinese force holding a siege line at a distance, not having guns to break the walls. Do not fire upon them, please! Questions?”
“Prisoners, sir?”
The Royal Marine major was a large, steadfast seeming gentleman, with a notebook. That was unusual in Magnus’ experience – very few Marines had mastered the skills of writing, literacy demanding more intelligence than the average Jolly possessed.
“Take surrender if offered. Be careful. There may be mercenaries of some sort or another – watch them, they are strangers to honour, by very definition. I shall have no objections at all to discovering the mercenaries all to have fallen in action. If possible, and it may not be, discover their nationality.”
“Magazines, sir?”
“Put sentries to them. Advise your men not to smoke just there. There must be eight-inch shells and charges, and there was some mention of smaller cannon – these may be black-powder muzzle-loaders.”
Black-powder was far more dangerous than modern propellants; spilt gunpowder could be ignited by the boots of Marines sparking on a stone floor.
“Looting, sir?”
“Shocking bad habit, and you should discourage it where you observe it to be occurring. Nelson had something to say on the topic of observation, of course.”
The quicker ones immediately picked up the reference to Nelson’s blind eye, nudged the others.
“Be careful with alcohol, of course – no blind eyes there, gentlemen.”
It was an article of faith that the lower deck could not be trusted in the presence of booze; all knew of a certainty that any and every hand would get blind drunk given the least opportunity and irrespective of duty or common sense.
They nodded gravely.
“Finally, good luck, gentlemen. We shall salute our victory in the wardroom this evening.”
That, they thought, went without saying – they were not in the business of being defeated.
The picket boats came alongside, the midshipmen in command boarding Shark for their orders and with the final instructions from the Admiral.
“Bombardment to commence in three minutes, sir. Captain Haddisham says that Centurion has been able to achieve line of sight on the gate, sir.”
The ten-inch guns of the battleship had not been designed to offer plunging fire, were not ideal for shore bombardment as a result.
The officers of the landing party watched as the four big guns revolved in their twin barbettes and took their initial bearing.
“Left gun first, sir, forward then after battery. They will take their range before commencing rapid fire.”
Mr McGurk whispered quietly in Magnus’ ears – his captain must know exactly what is happening.
The gun rose a few degrees – firing from three thousand yards, the limit of deep water, was close to point blank for the battleship guns. There was a great cloud of smoke from the charges and the shell exploded on the walls of the fort, nearly fifty yards to the left of the gate.
“Gunnery Officer won’t be a happy man, sir!”
The left gun fired from the after mounting, the five hundred pound shell hitting just a few feet short of the gates and shattering the old timbers.
“Far better, sir.”
Centurion signalled the landing party to proceed.
“Expensive, those shells, sir, and they don’t carry more than eighty for each gun. They won’t want to waste them.”
Centurion commenced measured fire, two and two, the great noise of the explosions serving to drive the defenders into cover and to announce to the audience from Hanshan that the navy was angry.
Magnus stood in the bows of the picket boat, watching the channel into the wharf, expecting it to be clear and to offer no obstruction to the little, shallow-draught steam launch. He nodded to the Maxim gunner at half a cable.
“Covering fire into the gate itself, over our heads, if you please.”
The machine gun rattled and the picket boat thumped hard into the timbers of the wharf. Magnus jumped immediately before the side touched, ensuring that he was first ashore, where the commanding officer should be, at the head of the attack. He hoped Centurion was watching carefully, not fancying a ten-inch shell about his ears. Revolver in one hand, cutlass in the other, he ran through the gate, aware that he was the epitome of the schoolboy, comic-book hero. It was a shame there was no photographer present, he thought, starting to laugh, to Carter’s amazement as he puffed along behind.
There were open steps up to the wall immediately to his left; he ran up them, panting before he had reached the top, only twenty feet, but a long way for a sailor habitually confined to a tiny deck on a small ship. The top of the wall was empty at first glance; he amended that impression as he spotted the bloody bodies curled up in embrasures, tucked away behind the four big guns, anywhere that had offered apparent shelter from Bustard’s machine gun fire.
The gunners were not local men, he thought – taller, leaner, than the Southern Chinese he had seen; they wore some sort of uniform, naval perhaps, judging by the markings of rank. He began to suspect that Ping Wu had used him to attack the Empress’ forces, to drive away a new outpost in an inconvenient place; effectively, he had indulged in an act of war against the Chinese Empire.
“That’, he thought, ‘demands a quick burial party. Preferably before Admiral Seymour gets here.’
The great guns were empty, had been fired, the gunners swept away before they could load their next round. They could be destroyed easily, he thought; an explosive charge in the open breeches would suffice. That job could be given to Mr McGurk.
He trotted along the walls to the corner where there was a small turret, dived for cover as a rifle fired. There were embrasures, two on either side of an open entry. He shot into each, emptying one revolver, Carter and the men behind him following suit. He stood and ran forward, the wall walk too open to hide him for more than seconds.
Into the doorway looking left then right, a single man poking tentatively with a bayonet. He jumped to the side and stabbed forward with his cutlass, the blade sliding and bouncing down the rifle barrel and into the chest. A great gush of blood and the rifleman fell off the cutlass.
“Forward!”
Magnus ran through the turret to the side wall, saw it to be empty.
“Down.”
He ran back into the turret, found a staircase and followed it to the ground, saw one archway opening into a magazine, another out onto the bailey or parade-ground or whatever it might be. There were bodies and shell craters, but no organised defence.
The major of Marines from Centurion trotted across.
“There was a sally-port, sir – a back door, in effect – and the garrison exited as we entered, most of them. Not all, I see.” He glanced significantly at the cutlass running scarlet. “I heard shooting from the wall, sir.”
“Just one lone rifleman, Major. More scared than I was, I suspect.”
“Maybe so, sir, but his bayonet only just missed you judging by that tear in your coat.”
Magnus glanced at his shoulder, saw the rip in the fabric.
“I ducked.”
The major laughed.
“Pursue the garrison, sir?”
“No. General Li from Hanshan has a few battalions out there. He will have left us nothing to do; not a gentleman for taking inconvenient prisoners. For future reference, Major, he is a professional, some sort of Western training, I suspect
; more than competent, I believe.”
“Worth knowing, sir. We may come against him in the future – in China today’s friend is tomorrow’s enemy more often than not.”
“Very true, Major. We must demolish the fort and destroy its guns. My Gunner, Mr McGurk, will be invaluable for that function. I would be obliged to you, Major, was you to recruit some working parties from the village, to dig graves. I would like to bury the garrison close to the walls here, so that the rubble will cover them. It means we only need a foot or two of earth over them – quicker and more convenient.”
It would also cover them and their uniforms deep and well out of sight.
“Will do, sir. No mercenaries in my part of the fort, sir.”
“Nor in mine, Major. I suspect they will have seen Centurion on the horizon and have decided the game was up. Probably ten miles north and still running, leaving their men behind to die.”
That, the major thought, would be typical of mercenaries; he spread the word that that was what had happened.
McGurk came trotting up, informed Magnus that he had located two separate magazines, one for the eight-inch and the other containing black powder and small-arms rounds.
“Eight-inch charges, sir. Silk bags, as is standard. Printed in German and Chinese characters, sir. What the Chinese says, I don’t know, but according to the German they are Krupp, 21 centimetre, L/35, sir – a naval gun that has been about since the late Eighties, sir. I shall confirm from the guns themselves, sir.”
“Do so, Mr McGurk, before destroying them. Blow the guns so that they can never be salvaged, and then put fuses to the magazines, if you would be so good. Tell me when you are ready and I shall give you the word. The fort is not to be handed over to the Chinese.”
Mr Ping had been left aboard Bustard, was in no position to request that the forces from Hanshan should form a new garrison instead.
Magnus noticed that Carter was no longer at his shoulder, called for a seaman to act as runner.
“Mr Caton and Mr Hawkes to report to me here, please.”
“Mr Caton – butcher’s bill, sir?”
“None, sir. We saw only the tail end of the Chinese, sir. They had run as soon as the ten-inch shells started falling about their ears, and one can hardly blame them for that! We took a few wounded prisoners, sir, and a couple of them have got some pidgin, which some of our old hands can speak, more or less. The big shells fell and their officers fled first and they followed.”
Hawkes said much the same – there had been no fighting, the six little cannon on the rear walls abandoned.
“Something like an old four-pounder, sir – a ball the size of an orange, or thereabouts. They had some charges of grape, sir, they could have put up a fight, like they did on your side, sir.”
Hawkes pointed enviously to the bloody cutlass still in Magnus’ hand.
“Made the mistake of cornering a man with a rifle, Mr Hawkes – got between him and the way out. Careless!”
It was the correct, self-deprecating response, much-appreciated by the audience.
The major returned.
“Found some store cellars, sir, close to the walls, here, under the barracks quarters. Stick the stiffs in there and we don’t have to go to the bother of digging graves, sir.”
“Good thought, Major. Make it so. Get working parties busy. I want to blow the fort quickly, before the friendly Chinese have a chance to ask if they can have it. Don’t want to have to take it again, one day, when they ain’t friendly any more.”
“Well thought, sir. I’ll get them running.”
An active hour saw sixty bodies in the cellars and a bag of black powder in the breech mechanism of each of the four big guns. Mr McGurk was busy in the magazines, appeared walking backwards, emptying a keg of gunpowder to form a trail from the gate downwards.
“No slow match to hand, sir. Ripped off shirt sleeves, sir, and filled them with powder for the stairs down. This’ll work. Old fashioned, but still good. I’ll just blow the guns first, sir, while you clear everyone out?”
Magnus did as he was told, pulling the landing parties back to their boats, remaining at the wharf himself in his picket boat until McGurk appeared at the run. The Commissioned Gunner remained in the gateway, watching from cover until he saw the four breeches blow satisfactorily, large lumps of metal spinning away, then bent to ignite the powder trail.
He jumped into the steam launch and the midshipman in command pulled away from the wharf, shouting at his stoker for full ahead.
“Whoops!”
“What’s the matter, Mr McGurk?”
“Looks like some of them Chinamen what was besieging the place have turned up, sir.”
“Ah! That could be unfortunate, Mr McGurk. Is it the main army?”
“Just a few scouts, by the look of it, sir.”
“Try to wave them off, Mr McGurk.”
They pointed and shouted ‘go away’ and ‘run’. The Chinese soldiers waved back and cheered in return.
The first puff of smoke showed at the gates, followed by a loud and deep and long-lasting explosion. The walls shivered and slowly bulged outwards, the huge blocks of stone shifting reluctantly. Many of the score of visible soldiers ran in the right direction, but one or two tried jumping in the creek for safety, immediately before rubble blocked it.
A cloud of smoke and dust rose high and began to slowly collapse on itself. There was a shower of small broken stones and earth over the boat.
“Very satisfactory, sir! The charges blew first, then the HE shells and the shrapnel, all contained by the stone walls underground. The explosion channelled vertically, sir. Had the magazine been above ground, there would have been much more horizontal travel, sir, the walls blowing outward to a far greater extent. As it is, they will have fallen inwards, mostly, on top of the cellars with the stiffs in, what is what you wanted.”
“It was indeed, Mr McGurk. Better by far to cover the bodies deep – the local people don’t want rotting corpses on their hands.”
“Most thoughtful, sir. Always better to be tidy, if possible. The guns, sir, were definitely Krupp, twenty-one centimetre guns, sir.”
“Excellent. We shall report that to Admiral Seymour.”
Admiral Seymour was interested but not, he said, surprised by their discovery.
“Word from England is that the current crisis with Germany is teetering on the very edge of turning into war. The Admiralty has formed a ‘Flying Squadron’ of two battleships and four heavy cruisers for immediate action in the North Sea if necessary. It makes sense for Berlin to take the offensive in China, but in a way that can be disavowed if the war does not come to pass.”
Magnus silently agreed, showing much impressed by the Admiral’s acuity.
“Thing is, Lord Magnus, some of the Chinese cruisers were armed with Krupp guns. They were all lost or severely damaged in the recent Sino-Japanese War, and it makes sense for the Germans to have sent replacement guns for the ships being rebuilt. That covers them, of course, and allows them to divert four without it being noticed. Very crafty!”
Magnus shook his head at the duplicity of the Prussians.
“Had my telescope on the fort as you went in, Lord Magnus – exactly where I expected to see you, sir. You did well. Captain Haddisham informs me that his major of Marines has reported that you were the only man quick enough to catch a Chinese soldier and that you tackled a rifleman with your cutlass. I can see the tear in your jacket where his bayonet almost got you. Again, sir, well done! You were Mentioned in my despatches for your run in with the pirates, as you know, and your name will be prominent in the report I am to write on this business, which will do you no harm at all, sir. I see that I am keeping you away from your ship duties; you must return and we must arrange a tow for you. Centurion is too big a ship for the purpose – we might run you under in our wash. It should be practical to lash one of the destroyers to your side and set the other to tow. Between them, they should be able to get you back to the docky
ard in good time.”
Magnus agreed that it should be possible.
“Will your doctor remain with my people, sir?”
“Most definitely, Lord Magnus. I have already ascertained that he does not wish to transfer the wounded to Centurion. The movement would do them no good at all, it would seem. I have sent his two SBAs across as well, together with drugs and equipment he has requested.”
“Thank you, sir. We have lost too many men from a small crew. I was taken by surprise, sir, and must blame myself.”
“Any man can be taken by surprise, Lord Magnus. It is what you do afterwards that counts, and you took a series of correct decisions, to my pleasure and respect, sir. The fact that the fort lies as a heap of smouldering rubble says that the surprise was unsuccessful – it demonstrates your efficiency, sir, to my entire satisfaction.”
“I worry that it may say more for my luck, sir.”
“In my experience, Lord Magnus, naval officers make their own luck. I repeat that I am pleased with your conduct. Off you go, now.”
Magnus whistled his way back to Bustard. He made it his first priority to visit the Sick Berth, an action that was also noticed.
Carter was waiting in the cabin.
“Spotted the officers’ quarters, sir. Not much, but I picked up a few odds and ends, sir.”
Interestingly, the spoils included gold marks in three separate leather sacks.
“These have to be given over to the Intelligence people, Carter. Proof that there were Germans there. If we were found with these, they would think we had been taking German bribes.”
“Bloody hell! Excuse me, sir! Can’t be having that, sir. There’s almost nothing else, sir – little bit of silver and not much besides.”
“Put that in your own pocket, man. Take a boat across and carry this note, and the marks, to the Flag Captain. The Admiral may want to speak to you, so tell him exactly where you found them. Definitely the case that there had been Germans present.”
The China Station (The Earl’s Other Son Series, Book 1) Page 24
