“Lieutenant Renyolds,” the captain said through clenched teeth, “You are out of uniform, sir!” The captain was shocked by the sudden searing look from the Surgeon.
“Sir, he is out of uniform because of a lack of clean linen for a wound.” He looked at Graham and asked, “Ready?” At the big man’s nod Watson folded the ascot that he took from Lieutenant Renyolds and placed it on the injured man’s chin as Graham wrapped the surgeon’s ascot around his very wide fist.
Watson moved his fingers to the left of the hurt man’s head and said, “Seaman, do you see my fingers?” With the man momentarily distracted he said, “Now,” and Graham hit the injured seaman once on his ascot covered chin. The man’s eyes rolled back and he was out cold as Watson used the saw, which made most of the crew quickly turn away. The unconscious man never once stirred as the crushed foot was tossed overboard. Watson was in his element and using a length of leather string from the medical kit he tied a tourniquet and then wrapped his white ascot around the seaman’s stump. “Take him below and I shall look in on him after I wash up.”
The men gently lifted the injured seaman and carried him away. Taking a deep breath Watson started to get up when the captain took his hand and helped him up.
“Very well done, Surgeon. Very well done, indeed.”
“Thank you sir. He should be fine in a few weeks. He’ll be limping, but alive.”
The captain nodded and with a smile asked, “Will you do me the honor of dining with me this evening, Surgeon Watson?”
“The pleasure will be mine, captain. However I will be without my ascot.”
“In that case, sir, I will present you with one of my own as a token of my thanks for your service and unique way of putting a hurt man out of his miseries for a bit.”
“I accept your offer, sir, but right now I must tend to our seaman’s tourniquet.”
For the rest of his journey Surgeon Watson could dine with either the officers or the working seaman whenever he wished and he split his time evenly between both groups.
OCTOBER 20, 1805
“Sails! Sails on horizon off port side!”
Every man that was on deck looked to port after hearing the lookout’s report. Coming over the horizon was one, then two and finally a score of wind-filled sails. Lieutenant Renyolds passed his telescope to Watson after he had seen them.
“The fleet,” he said excitedly as he pointed to the sails still miles away. As Watson looked through the long glass Renyolds looked at his pocket watch, snapped it closed and said, “We should be in with them by mid-day meal. The captain will lower the long boat to deliver mail to the Victory along with yourself, my friend.”
“Thank you,” Watson answered as he passed back the telescope, “I must go and see the captain to thank him for his hospitality.” He saw Captain Lapenotiere near the wheel looking through his long glass and waited until the man caught his eye.
“Surgeon Watson,” he called out as he snapped his telescope closed, “Please join me, sir.”
Watson went up the three steps and joined the captain near the helm.
“Your journey with us is coming to an end, Surgeon.”
“Yes, captain and I wish to thank you for your hospitality.”
“No thanks need, sir. You earned your keep. How is the seaman getting along?”
“He wishes to leave his berth and work the deck. I told him perhaps in another two weeks.”
“Can he get about with one foot?”
Watson shrugged, “I’ve seen men do it while others just sit around and do nothing but whine. I believe he is a doer. The ship’s carpenter is carving him a new foot with leather straps that tie about his leg.”
The captain grinned, “You have brought a good feeling to our ship, sir. They have a can-do atmosphere about themselves and I shall miss you as will my crew.”
“And I shall miss you and the crew as well. I must say that under your leadership they have a very high morale.”
With a smile the captain offered his hand and as they shook hands, said, “Once again I thank you and should you ever be looking for a berth and I have one, we shall sail again. Now, I must get ready for the meeting aboard the Victory. We shall go over together in the long boat.”
Because the HMS Pickle was a quick schooner, she easily slipped into the fleet and matched their speed. Captain Lapenotiere had to use his megaphone to shout orders to his men as the men from all of the ships carried on with a roar of approval seeing the schooner that carried their mail from home. Seeing the British fleet almost brought tears to the captain’s eyes as the 104-gun flagship HMS Victory waved her closer.
To captain such a grand ship someday is all I want, he thought as he maneuvered his ship closer. At a signal from the Victory all ships slowed as the Pickle lowered her long boat. The long boat was manned with its rowing crew, Lapenotiere, Watson and three bags of mail. As the boat entered the water the crew was already pulling on the oars and in a few moments they were next to the tall sides of Captain Hardy’s ship. Watson could see both Hardy and Lord Nelson looking down at them as they approached the lowered ladder.
The HMS Victory, Watson thought as he looked at the majestic ship-of-the-line. As any British lad knows she was also Admiral Keppel’s ship at the Battle of Ushant in 1778, Admiral Howe’s at the Battle of Cape Spartel in 1782 and Admiral Jervis’s flagship at the Battle of Cape St. Vincent in1797 and here I am about to be aboard her in the most famous of all battles, the Battle of Trafalgar!
Captain Lapenotiere climbed up first, stood on the deck and came to attention. “Permission to board, sir?” he asked with a salute that was returned by both men.
“Granted,” answered Captain Hardy as they shook hands. “I see that you’ve brought three bags of tidings for the men, Lieutenant. Jolly for them.”
Nelson offered his hand and said as they shook, “You were the person we all waited for when I was a young sailor myself, Lieutenant. And by the hurrahs of the fleet I believe it is still the same way.”
Watson stood open-mouthed as he saw for himself what the history books had written of.
The black and white drawings stood before him in living flesh and blood. Lord Nelson’s deep blue uniform with gold decorations, braids and buttons. He was imposing and even though he stood at five-feet six inches he seemed to tower over Hardy’s six feet plus height. Watson knew it was just in his mind because to him the admiral would tower over every British Navy figure, past, present and future.
Captain Lapenotiere turned and said as he pointed to Watson, “I also bring along Surgeon John Watson, sirs. He is introduced with orders from the Admiralty and I might add, he practices his medical profession in a unique and welcomed way.”
Both officers nodded and as Watson took out his orders. Hardy said, “After evening meal, sir. First off find Surgeon Beatty and see if he can set you up with a hammock. I’m sure you two will have plenty to speak of.” He turned and pointed aft, “He can be found on gun deck-two at the rear.”
Watson walked aft and even though he had walked it before on a school trip when she was used as a Naval School of Telegraphy, he now saw her in role as a fighter with men cleaning and adjusting cannons as others sharpened sabers and such. He went down the five stairs to the second gun-deck and walked aft. Watson was not a tall man but needed to duck his head in many places as thick wooden beams appeared out of the darkness. He saw a sailor cutting a slab of meat that hung from a hook. The man wore a very bloody apron and nodded at him.
“G’day Surgeon. Lookin’ fer Surgeon Beatty?”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
“Walk past the next beam an’ turn port an’ there he be.”
Watson thanked him and walked past the beam, turned left and saw a young man of 32 sharpening a long saw.
“Surgeon Beatty?”
The man looked up and asked, “Who is it that seeks me?”
“Sir, I do. I am Surgeon Watson and will be with this ship for a week or two.”
“A week
or two? Who is it that assigned two Surgeons to one ship when there are so many ships without even having one?”
Watson did what military men have done for thousands of years: shrugged and said, “There is the right way, the wrong way and the admiralty’s way.” Beatty laughed and Watson continued, “Actually the admiralty wishes me to watch how the average seaman gets along under stress. They wish to prevent any problems that might arise between the men and the officers. In a few words: to see how their morale is.”
Beatty smiled and said in a whisper, “In a few words, to prevent another mutiny.”
Watson smiled back and nodded, “Yes and Captain Hardy asked if you may be so kind as to help me set up a living space.”
“Why, here is a place right next to my place. It will be nice to have a companion at meal time.”
“I could not help but see that you were sharpening your saw. Is there anything that I can help you with?”
Beatty shook his head, “Actually I just finished. Have you brought along your instruments?”
Watson looked ashamed as he answered, “I’m sorry to say, sir, that as my job was to check on the men’s morale, the admiralty thought that should I come aboard the Victory with instruments, you as the Surgeon might be upset.”
“Me? Upset because another Surgeon came aboard the same ship that I served aboard? A ship whose captain and admiral sought with all their might to bring upon themselves a sea battle that pits steel against flesh? They thought that I would not cherish help as men lay bleeding and dying horribly all around the ship?” He shook his head as Watson gained a huge dose of respect for this young man.
“I’m sorry, Watson. It just happens that I brought my instruments along with me and discovered that the ship has her own so should we meet the enemy both of us shall work together.”
“I agree, my friend, I agree.”
The two surgeons ate in their small dark place below the main deck and Watson was happy that Beatty didn’t mind talking about himself.
After they ate, a young boy of twelve came and asked that Watson follow him to see the captain and to bring his orders along. Ten minutes later he stood before Captain Hardy whose large stature made his large cabin look much smaller.
He nodded as he folded the orders and passed them back to Watson. “I would imagine that it has to do with that mutinous bunch a bit back. Well you will see my men as a group with high morale.” He rubbed his forehead, “I understand from Captain Lapenotiere that you are an outstanding surgeon. I would very much appreciate it if you would work with our ship’s surgeon should we ever meet the enemy.”
“It would be an honor to work alongside such an fine fellow as Surgeon Beatty and in fact we have worked out such a plan.”
Hardy smiled and said, “Very well, Surgeon Watson. As you know we are in search of the enemy fleet and should we meet them you will be a great help to us.”
“I know, sir, and should we meet with them I shall do my duty.”
“Good! You may leave now as I have a dinner with Lord Nelson this evening and must spruce up. Once again, welcome aboard the HMS Victory.”
After dinner the two surgeons talked shop and turned in early. Watson fell asleep immediately and his last thought was, After all of this traveling, it is upon you dear Watson.
OCTOBER 21, 1805 6:00 A.M.
The lookout had just climbed to the very top of the HMS Victory’s tall mast and had to duck a few times as the British flag flapped just above his head. His telescope was secure in its leather holster with the strap around one shoulder. Although the usual place for the lookout was a good fifteen feet lower, he wanted to be the first to spot the French and Spanish ships that Lord Nelson and Captain Hardy sought all these weeks. He wore no shoes as he felt that the tar from the decking that stuck to the bottom of his feet helped him grip the smooth masts better. The tip of the mast was slimmer than the usual lookout spot and he wrapped his legs around the wooden shaft as he took the telescope out of its holster and brought it to his eye. He first did a complete 360 degree sweep of the horizon and then settled down to his usual routine of looking at one spot and, as he couldn’t count, sang a tune his mother taught him when he was a tyke. It was a tune his father had brought back from the colonies after the war and he used it to time the area of ocean he searched turning slightly after each line.
‘Yankee Doodle came to town, (Turn)
For to buy a firelock, (Turn)
We will tar and feather him, (Turn)
And so we will John Hancock. (Turn)’
As he started to sing the song for the seventh time he saw a sail coming over the horizon and shouted down to the Royal Marine drummer who waited on deck for just such a call, “Sail Ho!” The drummer turned towards the helm and beat out a special drum call: Beat to Quarters!
Within minutes the guns of the HMS Victory and every other ship of the British Fleet were manned by crews shouting and singing as they prepared for battle.
“It is upon us now,” said Surgeon Beatty to Watson. “I feel that the fate of England will be determined in this battle and we both shall be needed.”
Watson watched as Nelson and Hardy casually walked the deck giving instructions and encouragement to the men. They both looked towards the line of French and Spanish ships as they spoke of the upcoming unorthodox maneuver. The two lines of British ships were sailing straight towards the middle of the enemy line and when they were close enough the enemy ships started to fire at them. White splashes of water showed that they had the range and although the British had no forward firing cannons to answer them they continued to sail straight at them. There was a sudden sound like someone striking a drumhead: Bap! Bap! Bap! Bap! as a shot that was fired too high went through four sails, front to rear, leaving a small round hole in each one while another skipped along the water like a child skipping a stone on a lake. The time traveler heard the buzz of a mosquito near his face and swiped at it.
“Mosquitoes? Way out here?”
“My friend,” quipped Surgeon Beatty, “Those are not mosquitoes. They are the pieces of iron flying past you. Pray that you keep hearing them as the one that you do not hear is the fatal one.”
Suddenly a cannonball smashed into the front of the Victory and brought down a group of Royal Marines and rigging as it, and the huge splinters it made flew down the middle of the ship from front to the rear. Men simply disappeared as the ball hit them while others lost a limb in an instant. Watson watched horrified as blood flowed like water across the deck and seamen tossed dead bodies overboard. Another shot shattered a thick wooden railing sending it and the men squatting near it overboard. It was surreal for the time traveler as the only noise that could be heard was the enemy cannon’s faint boom and the swish of the water as the Victory pushed through it so when a cannonball silently hit a part of the ship it exploded with a loud crack that made men or their limbs disappear in a fraction of a second. Water spouts seemed to emerge with no apparent reason while chunks of wood decking or railings doubled the effect of a cannonball strike sending long shards of wooden splinters spiraling down the deck sweeping men off their feet. One sailor stood on one leg as he stared at the empty shoe that belonged to the other, missing leg. Watson watched as Beatty ran to the man and looked back at him for help.
Lord, I must help these men, he thought as he snapped into action and ran to Beatty’s side. He applied a tourniquet and they carried him below deck to a small workstation that was set up for the surgeon to work in. The floor of the room was covered in sand to prevent the surgeons from slipping in blood.
“Go on the deck,” said Beatty, “I’ll finish up here.”
Watson felt sick as he ran up the stairs to find more carnage and injured men.
Later it would be said of the two surgeons that they seemed to be everywhere at once saving men’s lives that were thought to be past saving.
There was a small break in the enemy fire and Watson leaned next to a half missing railing and wiped blood off of his jacket when his
pocket watch chimed and vibrated. 11:54! It’s time! he thought as he saw Admiral Nelson and Captain Hardy turn at the rear of the deck and start to continue their walk back up the middle of the ship. He decided to just stop them and started to straighten up when a cannonball hit the part of the railing that was still standing. The concussion physically blew him away from the railing and sent him flying across the slippery deck where he collided with Admiral Nelson and Captain Hardy, knocking them both off of their feet. As they scrambled to get up a sudden whoosh ripped over their heads on its way from the front to the rear of the Victory.
“Well,” said Nelson as he stood and offered a hand to Watson, “it seems that you save lives in many different ways, Surgeon Watson. You have my thanks, sir.”
“And mine as well, Surgeon,” added Hardy. He looked at Nelson and said, “We shall soon be amongst them, Lord Nelson.”
“Yes, and then they shall have a taste of the ‘Nelson Touch’.”
A cry sounded and Watson quickly became the man he truly was and went to help the man.
Suddenly in shadow, Watson looked up to see the high wooden aft end of a French ship as the Victory passed her in arm’s distance. He felt the deck shudder as Victory’s cannons roared as it passed the enemy ship sweeping its deck of men. To this man from their future it was absolute hell hearing and seeing shouts and screams as hot iron hit their frail bodies. Then it hit him and he took out his pocket watch, looked at it and snapped it closed. It is time, he thought, time for Britain’s greatest Admiral to be shot by a French sniper. Do I watch and if I do will I ever be able to sleep again? He stepped to a spot where he could see the great admiral as it approached 1:15 p.m., the time he was struck down. His pocket watch sounded again, but his body prevented him from living with the sight forever by filling his eyes with tears. Doctor John Watson didn’t try to stop the running tears or wipe them away.
TimeTravel Adventures of The 1800 Club [Book 12] Page 15
