It was a very small party, Gareth the only one of Medusa’s officers present, Soo and myself the only civilians. The other guests were the admiral commanding the Spanish fleet, his flag officer, and Fernando Perez from the Naval Base with his wife Ramona. Afterwards, when I talked it over with Soo, I found she had come to the same conclusion I had, that Wheatcroft’s first objective in hosting such a very select little party was to take a look at her and check that it was safe for the Board to take the line it had virtually decided on.
His second objective was, of course, to make a short speech, largely for the benefit of the Spanish admiral and the commander of the Mahon Naval Base. For this he had arranged that Lieutenant Sykes should be waiting on deck so that the brief and very political speech he made was instantly translated into Spanish. And when he had finished, it was the Spanish admiral’s turn to make a little speech.
Whether the admiral had been briefed or not I do not know, but at the end of his speech, when we were all applauding, he brought from his pocket an ornate little case, went across to Gareth, and taking out a bright ribbon with a decoration suspended from it, hung it round his neck.
Poor Gareth! He had clearly had no warning of this. He stood there for a moment, a flush on his face and his mouth opening and closing, no words coming. Finally, in desperation, he gave a naval salute and murmured one word, ‘G-gracias.’
I thought that was the end of it. I think we all did. But then Julian Wheatcroft stepped forward again and said, ‘There is something else I wish to say.’ Victor Sykes was again translating the English into Spanish and I believe his continued presence to have been deliberate, ensuring as it did that the gist of everything that was being said would pass round the ship. ‘Normally the findings of a Board of Enquiry are confidential and only revealed later when an announcement is made as to whether or not a court martial will result. However, the risks that Lieutenant Commander Lloyd Jones, his officers and men accepted and faced make the circumstances of Medusa’s grounding quite extra-ordinary.’ He separated the words out so that they had the older, stronger meaning. ‘And because I was very conscious that any recommendations I might make might be overturned, I’ve spent much of today in an exchange of signals with CINCFLEET and the Ministry of Defence. I may say that the Board was quite unanimous in its view that court martial proceedings were inappropriate in this case and I now have a directive –’ and here his voice became very formal and deliberate – ‘from the Secretary of State for Defence, approved personally by the Prime Minister, that in the exceptional and unprecedented circumstances of the grounding it has been decided to rule out any question of a court martial.’
He paused there, then moved a step or two towards Gareth. ‘I, too, have a gift for you. It is not, I’m afraid, as valuable or as beautiful as the decoration with which you have been honoured by the King of Spain. It was given to me just before I left London. It is from 10 Downing Street, a personal letter from the Prime Minister to you, and to all those serving on board HMS Medusa.’ The long envelope in his hand, he stepped forward, handed it to Gareth, then took a step back and gave him a magnificent salute.
There was a long pause, Gareth staring down at it, Welsh emotion strangling any reply, actual tears in his eyes. It was a moment we all shared, but having been with him on various very crucial occasions, I could appreciate more than any of the others on the flight deck the depth of his feeling, the ordeal he had been through – not only facing the prospect of imminent death for himself and the men serving under him, but later in the loneliness of waiting for his career to be terminated in a court martial.
Poor ol’ Byng! I remembered his words, slurred with drink, and now I saw him crying openly, the Spanish decoration catching the last of the sun as he pulled himself together and returned Captain Wheatcroft’s salute.
A Note on the Author
Ralph Hammond Innes was born in Horsham, Sussex in 1914. He was educated at Cranbrook School in Kent, which he left in 1931 to work as a journalist, initially with the Financial Times. He went on to become a prolific author, penning over thirty novels as well as children’s and travel books – his first novel, The Doppelganger, was published in 1937.
Innes served in the Royal Artillery during WWII, eventually rising to the rank of Major; during the war a number of his books were also published. After being demobbed in 1946 he worked full-time as a writer, achieving a number of early successes. He produced books in a regular pattern: six months travel and research and then six months of writing. With this quick turnover, he had sixteen further novels published before 1960, many of which featured the sea. From the 1960s his rate of work was reduced but was still substantial, and he became more interested in ecological themes. Innes continued writing up until his death in 1998.
Discover books by Hammond Innes published by Bloomsbury Reader at
www.bloomsbury.com/HammondInnes
Medusa
Solomon’s Seal
The Conquistadors
The Trojan Horse
This electronic edition published in 2013 by Bloomsbury Reader
Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square,
London WC1B 3DP
First published in Great Britain 1988 by William Collins Sons & Co Ltd
Copyright © 1988 Hammond Innes
All rights reserved
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make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means
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may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
The moral right of the author is asserted.
eISBN: 9781448210817
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