The Galley

by Paul Howard

  The Greek joined the Persian and Chinese and they conversed below as we closed in. The Persian began to sight another cannon. This time the aspect was even narrower than the bow shot before. The Greek looked up and raised his torch.

  “Fire!” I shouted.

  He touched the wick and the cannon belched its white smoke and sparks at the enemy. I covered my ears but it did no good. The shell splashed just short and to the enemy’s starboard. I angled Antonia to starboard once more and ordered below to drop oars. Once again the pillow struck and Antonia heeled to dead slow. The creaking and footfalls above me were beautifully synchronized to her motions. If we had not been in battle I would have been having the time of my life.

  The Chinese prepared to light the wick as we began to move along her port side. Again the air filled with flaming sparks and globs as the wooden plunging noise began. And just as quickly the flaming sparks and smoke filled the air around us and fiery matter pummeled our decks. The crews swarmed to put them out through the smoke and sparks. Another volley. This time almost directly striking the bridge. Flames erupted in front of me and a glob of burning fuel struck my right arm. I quickly tried to flick this off but it moved down to my wrist. I could feel the heat just as a crewman smothered it with a wet rag and wrapped it around my arm. A spark touched one of the cannon wicks and it fired directly into the water ten yards off our starboard side.

  The Chinese, who had been knocked off of his feet, got back up and the Greek re-sighted another cannon. He touched the Chinese who lowered the torch. We were in perfect firing range and we had him. When the Chinese touched off the wick this time the cannon did not act as the others. The wick shot upward and the back of the cannon made a terrible sound like angry metallic snakes. The three men’s eyes widened and the only words spoken by anyone was the Chinese shouting “Oh, shit!” as he pulled the rail pin and quickly shoved the cannon over the side. The three men dropped to the deck and hollered: “MISFIRE!”

  An instant later, a violent explosion under the water immediately to starboard, blew up a geyser of wet flaming percussion that knocked Antonia sharply to port and blew everybody off of their feet. I hit the deck hard just in time to see one man fall from our rigging into the sea and several others narrowly avoid doing the same.

  “Man overboard!” I shouted and it was quickly repeated by several others.

  I was not sure what had happened and there was no time to discuss it. As I rose to my feet the pain in my side hit me like a hot knife. I had been burned worse than I thought. The pain quickly disappeared as I looked toward the three inventors, fearing the worst. I was greatly relieved to see them rising to their feet and stumbling back to the next cannon, which had been hastily brought up.

  The blast had thrown us beyond the range of the enemy’s ballisters and we were now directly across from her broadside. Once again the cannon was set and fired. I could see that they were trying for another shot into her rigging. The shell whooshed toward the enemy but went slightly low, striking her directly in the side and blowing her completely in half. She immediately collapsed into her middle and formed a great “V” against the horizon. Again our men began to cheer but this was followed by another sound. It took us a few moments to realize what it was. The sound of many men drowning and being crushed to death in the collapsing wreckage we had just created. The cheering died down. We stood on deck watching our handiwork, as men, burned and wounded, crawled out of the cracks and openings like ants and plunged into the water. The sound of their screams was not unlike the cheering crowds at the great circus except for the constant background noise of collapsing beams, decks and bulkheads.

  Not one sound came from the crew of Antonia and I suddenly realized that the sickening feeling was taking hold. The survivors in the water began to swim for us and this was something we could not permit. No sooner had this thought crossed my mind than the great hulk, now completely collapsed and burning, suddenly heeled over and fell to her port side on the sea, killing and crushing the fleeing swimmers. It was a hard sight to bear.

  It was not good thing for the men’s morale to dwell upon it. I began to bark orders to get the men clearing up the decks and get underway as soon as possible. 53 knew exactly what was on my mind and pressed the men hard.

  Our first order of business was to rescue our lost crewman and put out the fires. This was quickly done. We fished our lost man from the water and he was fortunately unhurt by the fall, just shaken and water-logged.

  In less than an hour we were back underway and resumed course. I joined the officers as we assessed the damage and injuries among the men. One of the top men had a broken arm, which Sarah reset. There were numerous burns and cuts, but only a few men were seriously burned. None of them life-threatening. Two of them were bad enough to require confinement to bed for a few days and an infirmary was set up behind the kitchen. The injuries below were from the underwater explosion. Several men were knocked unconscious. One had a bad head wound and another had a crushed hand that would take weeks to heal. But that was all. The total injuries from the battle were remarkably slight.

  Damage to the ship was superficial, with minor fire damage only. The sand patterns in the decking worked better than expected. The flaming materials obediently pooled and waited to be snuffed out. Black spots now pocked the deck, marking where they had been.

  Two fully armed warships were utterly destroyed with all hands and we had not lost a single man. As calm finally settled in on Antonia, my thoughts turned to the meaning of the battle we had just fought. As I moved to the infirmary, the pain in my side now too strong to ignore, I realized that the same thoughts were probably going on in the minds of my comrades.

  Calpurnia helped me remove the chest plate and tunic. My burns were painful but not too serious. She informed me that I would be sore for days and put a soothing cream on them. I would not be wearing a shirt for a day or so. 53 joined me and gave his report. After covering the details, he looked at my wound and smiled softly. He could see it was not serious. He bowed to Calpurnia.

  “Would you excuse us, Lady?” he asked. Calpurnia rose and moved out.

  “It got a little hot up there. Did it not?” he asked.

  “In more ways than one, I would say…” was my reply. The expression on his face turned serious.

  ”I know,” he said, “You were brilliant! Just Brilliant.”

  “That is not what I mean!” I snapped. His eyes deepened.

  “I know what you mean,” he replied, “It is the same in any battle. After the killing is done the mind keeps fighting.”

  “All those men…” I said, looking at the planking on the deck.

  “Would you rather it was us?” he answered.

  “That is not what I mean, either.” I said. He sat next to me.

  “What, then?” he asked.

  “These new weapons,” I said, “You saw what they are like. So…distant and absolute. So inhumanly murderous.” The Nubian rose to his feet impatiently.

  “Oh, you think too much, Little Roman!” he snapped. “In battle you take advantage of every little edge and thank the gods your enemy does not have one like it! We just demonstrated the most effective naval weapons in human history and you are down here fretting about how well they kill the enemy. I came down to congratulate a superb military commander and find a kid crying over his own conscience!”

  “Not a kid!” I answered.

  “Never a kid again. This was my first battle command and I admit I am still shocked by it. But I will live with it! There is more to all this than just emotions. The ramifications of what we just did today are real. So far reaching as to stagger the mind. Imagine a world of such weapons! The instant long-range mass killing at the touch of a fuse. Without sword or legion. No contact warfare. Faceless enemies.”

  “One thing is for sure,” he observed, “It does render all other forms of naval warfare obsolete.”

  “And in an instant,” I added, “The moment that shell hit the rigging of that fir
st ship everything that Alexander and Caesar understood of battle vanished in a burst of flame! We just wrote a whole new book on the subject and the terror of it frightens me.”

  “Only if we let someone else read it,” he said. I looked at him long and hard. When he felt I had digested his meaning he spoke again. “This ship cannot fall into the hands of any government. Even if that means we have to scuttle her ourselves! That is what you really mean, is it not?”

  The moment just hung there in the air between us.

  “At first light we make for open sea,” I replied, “Inform the crew!” He turned to leave and I stood up. “You did very well today,” I said, “The crew was a well-oiled machine. I think you have withheld something from me. You are a very experienced man on a deck! I do not fault you for not informing me. The fault is all mine for not noticing it before. I should have realized something when you told me how many other ships you had survived. Can you tell me now?”

  “You are not the only one who has loved the sea,” he replied, “I always loved to sail on her. I would summer as a boy at the sea resorts. The ones where sailing was a young man’s favorite sport! I do not know why I never told you. I do not know why I would question anything you do.”

  “Because I told you to,” I said, “It makes me stronger!” He looked at my side which was burning red.

  “I do not believe I shall question you on anything again, Little Master,” he answered, “You have spoken at length and humility about the genius of our inventors. But I tell you now, I saw their equal up on that bridge today. Your tactical sailing made those weapons work! You invented a new kind of war!”

  “Thank you, Primus,” I replied, “You have been my most trusted friend. We could not have achieved any of this without you!”

  “Captain!” he replied. He snapped to attention and for the first time ever, gave a full, formal salute.

  I returned to my cabin and Calpurnia joined me shortly thereafter. I had ordered an issue of wine for those who wanted it but few drank any. Everybody aboard Antonia was worn out from the day’s events and I was no exception. I passed out the minute my head hit the pillow.

  But the heroism of that night went on. Sarah remained in the infirmary with our wounded well into the morning with the assistance of 36 Secundus. In spite of his wounds he had made himself useful below carrying messages during the battle and all through it’s’ aftermath. Only a few hours before, he had been condemned by the entire crew. Now such things did not seem to matter very much. Such is war.

  The following midday I joined Primus for the sighting.

  The Greek came up the steps onto the bridge with the new chart rolled up under his arm. He presented it to me and said, “Chart completed, Master.”

  “Excellent!” I replied. I gestured for Primus to join me as we moved toward my cabin. He handed the com over to the Britain and joined us below. Once we reached the cabin, we unrolled the new chart and began examine it.

  “It took a little longer than I expected,” the Greek explained, “But I had to make sure the grid was geometrically accurate. The slightest variation could put us miles off-course.”

  I almost smiled at this. We were all past the point of questioning his accuracy or attention to detail. Even when the deck of Antonia was refinished after the fire, he showed the refinishers how to set sand into the tacky varnish in a pattern he had calculated that would cause burning oil or tallow to pool harmlessly instead of spreading over the entire deck or getting under it. It also made the main deck grip the feet even when soaked by a gale. All I could muster was a simple: “Understood!”

  I looked closely at the chart and was very impressed. It was the most detailed map I had ever seen. So good, in fact, that one could probably navigate the whole Mediterranean wearing a blindfold. Primus looked me and grinned.

  “What do you think, Little Roman?” he asked. “Do we head for open sea?” I took a compass and made several measurements from memory. The chart was perfect as far as I could tell.

  “Yes.” was my reply. I departed for my cabin.

  Sailors talk of the open sea as the “Edge of the World”. To move beyond the sight of land far out where there is only sea and sky. The edge of the world was a very scary place to find yourself lost. But we were not prone to such superstitions and the order for open sea was greeted without complaint by the crew. As we set our course and turned for Gibraltar by the shortest course we were greeted by a favorable wind and very fair conditions.

  Soon we were out of sight of land. I watched the crew’s reaction as we entered the realm of sea and sky. There were no nervous looks or religious activities. The vast, open expanse of the Mediterranean stretched before us. If all went as planned, we would not see land for weeks.

  After midday sighting I invited the officers and ladies for an early meal in the mess. Sitting together at joined tables with an assortment of fruits and flatpies of different kinds, the gathering was friendly and relaxed. We exchanged greetings and enjoyed our meal as the level of talk remained refreshingly light.

  There had been a lack of that in the course of our voyage. It was good to see the officers relax and hear the sound of laughter again. Some days earlier I had asked the Greek if there was any way to mark the magnetic pointer and set it in a fashion that the helmsman could look at from the wheel. He promised to consider it. At the end of our meal he reached under the table and produced a square wooden box about half a foot wide and five inches tall.

  He gently handed me the box. On the top was a piece of clear glass through which could be seen a circular disk marked with the points of the compass. When moved, it turned ever to the north. The disk seemed to float somehow.

  “This should help navigation, Captain.” he said dryly. My eyes almost popped out.

  “Indeed it will.” Was all I could say. I was intrigued by this mysterious Greek. I decided to probe him further. “Tell me, my friend,” I began loud enough for all to hear, “Are you of this earth?” This drew an outburst of laughter from all and many began to shake their heads in agreement. The Greek was no less amused and laughed out loud. As the noise died down he assured us that he was.

  “My family hails from Corinth and my parents are living in Sicily.”

  “Why are they there?” I asked.

  “Because they like it there,” he said, “My father kicked me out when I was thirteen because I blew up his barn.” The whole room exploded again.

  “How did you do that? I asked.

  “It all began when I saw this falling star a year earlier…” Another outbreak of laughter.

  “Go farther back,” I said, “What were you doing when you were five?”

  The Greek thought for a moment and answered, “Thermal reactions in Metallurgy!” The room erupted again.

  “When did you learn to read?” I asked. The room quieted. He thought for a second and replied that he could not remember a time when he could not read. From what he said I should guess he was two at most. He was not an easy person for me to know intimately but our affection for each other was both mutual and genuine. I loved him as much as any man I ever knew.

  Soon the conversation grew more serious as we began to discuss what had taken place the day before. The significance of what had happened was appreciated by all and little of the magnitude of my conversation with Primus was discussed. Whatever my officers felt in their souls about this new warfare they kept to themselves in my presence. There was a general sense of optimism about how wildly successful and overwhelming the power of the new weaponry was.

  But as we looked at the battle more closely we soon came to realize how lucky we had all been. We had made terrible mistakes that could easily have gone against us and produced disastrous results. None of us even knew what the ‘misfire’ call was about or what to do.

  The explosion could easily have sunk us. We got too close to the enemy. There was enough loose fire on deck to set us ablaze or set off all our explosives. My handling of the ship was sloppy and the response tim
ing was sluggish. Almost all of our accidents could have proved fatal. I did not confess my shortcomings in the battle as such but I still brought them into understanding in the hopes that we could all appreciate the tactics better and find ways to improve them.

  The meeting proved to be productive. First of all, battle drills would be organized to improve overall performance among all aspects of the crew. Spark safeties would be installed on all fused weapons. Dry firing tests of the cannon would be conducted from the stern. Torpedo arming would be improved. New combat procedures would be implemented to ensure standardized terminology and overall communications between the various crews. Words like ‘misfire’ would be clearly understood by all hands in future. We had our work cut out for us. I began to feel concerned that we were taking on too much but I could see no alternative.

  The compass went to the bridge right away and instantly became an indispensable part of it. Between training and drills Antonia became a constant beehive of activity with plenty of work to go around. With the concerns of the ship and the details that kept popping up I had little time on my hands even for eating or other personal business. Let alone romance.

  I had very little time around Calpurnia except in the cabin and our time was dominated by her concerns for the crew. After a few such meetings I suggested that she should take the title of Morale Officer, which she refused. Explaining that her role on ship was a personal one.

  I held firm. Even though I respected her reasons, it was important that she not get too personally involved in her relationships with the men. At least not to the degree that she should become emotional about what she was doing. She was the Morale Officer and I ordered her and Sarah to report to the aft section for formal induction to the Brotherhood after supper.

  I felt that it was good for all of us to see her as a member of the crew proper. No longer as guests. They were so much a part of us anyway. I do not think she liked the idea of being under orders but she did understand my position and ultimately agreed.