Lindsay lowered his glasses. The ammunition ship had become part of the scene. Familiar. Almost part of themselves. It seemed impossible that anything could happen now. Just like this.
He said, `That captain is a very clever man, Yeoman.' He watched Ritchie's telescope wavering in the motion like a small cannon. `Most men as tired and worried as he must be would have used a lamp, or even worse, the R/T.'
Goss came hurrying from the chart room. `What's it doing?'
Lindsay said, `Go aft, Yeoman, and keep contact with the bridge by the poop telephone.'
To Goss he added, `Reduce to dead slow and close the gap. We must keep visual contact. Their lookouts may be able to see the U-boat, but if we try and turn they'll know we've spotted them.'
Stannard asked, `Why doesn't the bastard fire, sir?'
Goss nodded. `Christ knows we're moving slow enough. He could catch us up in no time.'
A messenger called, `W/T office reports no signals, sir.'
Lindsay nodded slowly. It could just be possible the U-boat had been damaged in that last attack. Maybe she could not dive, or perhaps her torpedo tubes had been put out of action by depth-charges. But she was back there all the same. Limping along like a wounded wolf, and every bit as dangerous.
He glanced quickly at the masthead pendant. It was flicking out very gently towards the stern. The wind was still coming from the south-east.
He turned and stared unblinkingly at the dipping sun. It was too high. The slow-moving ships would stand out against the "horizon as perfect targets for another halfhour, maybe longer.
`I think the U-boat is going to close and use his deck gun.'
Even as he spoke his thoughts aloud he knew he was committing himself. All of them.
Goss stared at him. `But if they get one shell into that bloody ship....' He could not go on.
Stannard said tersely, `Shall I signal them to abandon, sir? We could drop' all our boats and rafts and maybe come back for them later.'
Lindsay was still watching the ship astern. Big, solid and black. That U-boat commander would recognise her all right. Would probably know. her lethal cargo down to the last bullet. It would make up for the way his own command had been mauled. The terror of his men as the charges had rained down from the hunters on, the surface.
`Leave her, you mean?' He spoke very quietly. `Run away?'
Goss said, `It's not that. We've the ship to consider. Our own people.'
A signalman called, `The yeoman says that the ammo ship can still see the U-boat, sir. On the surface. Full buoyancy.'
Lindsay thought briefly of the Demodocus's master. A man he would dearly like to meet. Someone who, despite the hideous death which was so close to him and his men, could note the small but vital details. No U-boat would chase after its prey fully trimmed to the surface. It would be ballasted well down with just part of the casing and conning tower visible. It must be damaged. It was their only hope.
`Tell the yeoman to use his Aldis. It should be masked from the U-boat by the other ship. I want the Demodocus to start another fire. It'll be damn dangerous. But her captain will know the risks without my telling him. Oily rags, anything, but I want plenty of smoke.'
He pushed past the others and snatched up the engine room handset. `Chief? This is the captain.'
Fraser chuckled. `I thought you'd forgotten us.'
`Listen. I want you to make smoke, everything you can do to produce the biggest fog inn creation! Just as soon as I give the word!'
Aye, sir.' Lindsay heard him yelling to his assistant, Dyke, above the roar of fans. Then he asked calmly, `Might I be told the reason, sir?' `Yes. We're going to engage a surfaced U-boat.' He dropped the handset as Stannard said, `They've got a fire going already. God, I'd have thought the worst if I'd not heard your order.'
Lindsay saw the pall rising rapidly astern. `Sound action stations.' He grasped Goss's arm. `I'm going to go hard astarboard in about ten minutes.' He saw Goss's anxious features and wondered if he was fearing for his life or that of the ship. `The fact that the U-boat's made no W/T signals doesn't mean she won't very soon. Her radio may be damaged, but if they once get it going again we're done for.' He had to yell above the alarm bells. `So go to damage control, and pray!'
Dancy called, `Ship at action stations, sir.'
`Very good. Tell control to stand by. Maxwell will have to engage with the starboard battery.'
He looked at Stannard. `Inform the chief. Make smoke now.'
He turned to watch the thick greasy cloud which started to gush over the funnel's lip almost before Stannard had replaced the telephone.. He made himself wait a few more minutes, feeling, the ship heaving uneasily beneath him, trying to estimate her turning circle under such desperate circumstances.
`Ready, Cox'n?'
Jolliffe nodded. `Ready, sir.'
`Pilot?'
Stannard forced a grin. `As I'll ever be, sir.'
Lindsay took out his pipe and thrust it between his teeth.
`Stop starboard. Full ahead port.' He counted more seconds, feeling the deck shuddering violently to the added thrust on one shaft. `Hard astarboard!'
He glanced through a stern scuttle at the dense smoke. Already the angle was changing. `Starboard engine full astern!'
He turned again to face the empty sea beyond the bows. Perhaps it could not be done. There was nothing in the book to say it should even be attempted. But there was little in any of those books about the war either, he thought.
'Midships! Full ahead together!'
14
Hitting back
Heeling steeply to the violent thrust of screws arid rudder the Benbecula thrashed round until she was steering almost the reverse of her original course. Lindsay stood in the centre of the bridge, his glasses level with his chin as he waited for a first sight of the enemy. The fore deck was almost hidden in a thick, choking fog from the funnel, as caught by a sudden down-draught and aided by the change of direction the wind fanned Fraser's screen over the ship in a solid wall. Lindsay knew they must be passing the Demodocus somewhere to starboard, although her improvised smokescreen was so thick she could have been a mile away or fifty yards. Even with the doors closed Lindsay could taste the acrid stench, just as he could hear the lookouts on the upper bridge retching and gasping above the din of racing engines. He lowered his eyes a few inches to the gyro.
`Steer zero-one-zero!'
He heard Jolliffe's quick reply but kept his eyes fixed on the thinning pall of smoke across Benbecula's line of advance. Soon now and he would know if he had been right. Justified.
The U-boat commander may have seen the two ships as stragglers from the convoy, which indeed they were, and was so confident that he considered it wasteful to use his remaining torpedoes.
Lindsay dashed a trickle of sweat from his eyes. If that was the case, and the U-boat was undamaged, one salvo from her bow tubes would be enough. With Benbecula working up to her maximum revolutions the effect would be too terrible to contemplate.
Maxwell's voice came over the bridge speaker, detached and toneless. `Starboard battery stand by.'
Lindsay dropped his gaze to the fore deck and saw the two starboard guns moving their muzzles slightly, like blind things in the swirling smoke. Further aft de Chair's marines would have to remain inactive for the present. Their starboard gun could not bear on the target if Lindsay's calculations were correct. If; if, if. The word seemed -to hammer in his brain as if someone had shouted it aloud.
Slivers. of spray spurted over the bows, and he knew that Fraser's gauges were well into the danger mark now. The old ship was shaking and groaning to the whirling screws and the whole bridge seemed to be quaking under the strain.
Maxwell's voice cut above the other sounds, as if he had the handset right against his lips. `Submarine on the surface at Green two-five! Range oh-eight-oh!' -
Lindsay gritted his teeth, willing the smoke to clear so that he could see what Maxwell and his spotters had sighted from their prec
arious position above the bridge. -
There was a brief flash beyond the smoke and seconds later the sound of a shellburst. For an instant longer he imagined the enemy had already anticipated his move, was even now slamming a shell towards Benbecula to make her sheer away and present a perfect target for torpedoes.
Through the smoke there was another flash, the sullen bang of an explosion.
Lindsay glanced at Stannard and said, `He's shooting at the ammunition ship!'
When he turned his head again he saw the U-boat. Even at four miles range her austere silhouette was exactly as he had pictured it in his mind. The dying sunlight seemed very bright on the slim conning tower, so that it looked as if it was made of pure copper.
Then the bells rang below the bridge and both six-inch guns fired in unison.
It seemed an age before the shells reached the narrow target. Then as Lindsay jammed his glasses against his eyes he saw twin columns of bursting water astern of the U-boat, very white against the darkening horizon.
`Over. Down two hundred.' Maxwell could have been at a practice shoot. Lindsay had never heard him so cool.
.He watched the sudden reaction on the U-boat's fore deck, holding his breath. She was turning, steering almost on a converging course now. But she was still high on the water, the bow-wave creaming along her rounded saddle tanks as she completed the slight turn.
The bells sounded once more and both guns lurched back on their springs, the shockwaves rattling the bridge screens like gale-force winds.
Lindsay bit his lip as both shells ploughed into, the sea to the right of the target.
There was an answering flash from the U-boat's deck gun, and he felt the hull-shudder as the shell ploughed alongside and exploded, hurling up a great column of water and smoke as splinters clanged over the bulwark.
Lindsay felt very calm. Whatever happened in the next few moments would decide the fate of his own ship and that of the damaged Demodocus. But one thing was certain. The German captain could not dive, nor could he use torpedoes. He would have done both by now it it was humanly possible. Lindsay could imagine the consternation on that conningtower as Maxwell's six-inch shells ripped down on them, getting closer with each agonising second. And it must have all looked so easy. Just two more stragglers from a convoy and not an escort within miles.
Smoke funnelled back from the bows, and Lindsay heard the screeching crash of a shell exploding between decks.
`Range oh-six-two.'
He banged the teak rail by the screen with his clenched fist. The U-boat showed no sign of turning and her gun was firing with even greater rapidity than before. Just one good shot and Benbecula could be slowed or stopped while the German manoeuvred to a more favourable position. Right ahead of the bows where not a single gun would bear.
A shell ripped past the bridge and exploded somewhere astern. It made a terrible sound, like tearing canvas, and so close that a gyro repeater on the starboard wing exploded like a small bomb, the fragments thudding into the door and steel plates overhead.
Lindsay heard a man cry out and Maxwell snap, `First aid party on the double!'
Stannard yelled wildly, `We've straddled the bastard!' He was almost sobbing with excitement as two waterspouts bracketed the U-boat, burying her after casing beneath tons of falling spray.
Two tiny figures pitched from the bandstand abaft her conning tower, where a four-barrelled Vierling pointed impotently at the sky, and vanished into the falling deluge of water. One of the shells must have exploded close enough to rake the stern with splinters.
Stannard said tightly, `She's turning, sir!'
The bridge speaker intoned, `Target has altered course. Moving right. Number Three gun stand by to engage!'
Lindsay said, 'l think his steering is damaged.'
The U-boat's forward gun flashed once more, and he felt the deck jump beneath him as a shell exploded inside the hull.
From the boat deck an Oerlikon opened fire, the tracer drifting like lazy red balls towards the U-boat before pitching down into the darkly shadowed troughs.
Maxwell sounded furious. `Number Three Oerlikon cease firing!'
Lindsay could imagine the lone Oerlikon gunner losing his self-control. Even the knowledge that his gun was almost useless above a thousand yards, his training and Maxwell's discipline were re not enough under -such circumstances. Just to see the enemy. To watch him in the sights and be doing nothing about it was too much for any man.
He flinched as the two forward guns belched fire yet again: He had-.lost all idea of time and distance covered. His brain and hearing seemed lost in the crash of guns, the blasting returns from the U-boat.
A tall waterspout shot skyward beyond the German's hull and the other shell exploded directly against her side. It must have hit a saddle tank just beneath the surface, and for several seconds Lindsay imagined she had been blasted apart. As spray continued to fall he saw the black hull sliding clear, heard Stannard gasp, `Oh, the bastards! They're still afloat!' -
Lindsay steadied his glasses, waiting for some sort of reaction to take hold of him. He heard himself say, `She's going over. Look, Pilot, the gun's crew are baling out.' Why was his voice so flat? So empty of excitement?
He moved his glasses very slightly to watch more dark shapes tumbling from the - conning tower which was - already tilting towards him. The way was off the hull and gigantic air bubbles were exploding on the surface alongside, like obscene glassy creatures from the depths.
`Reduce to half speed. Starboard ten.'
He swung around as the second gun on the well deck lurched inboard, the shell exploding alongside the Uboat's listing hull like a fireball.
Lindsay shouted, `Cease firing!' He lowered his eye to the gyro. 'Midships. Steady. Steer zero-four-five.'
That last one had been more than enough. The Uboat's bows were lifting very slowly above the dotted heads in the water. Greedily the sea was already clawing along her buckled after casing, dragging a corpse with it as it advanced.
Lindsay, watched without emotion. The Atlantic was having another victory. It was as impartial as it was ruthless.
Dancy called, `Damage control reports flooding in Number Three hold, sir. There's a fire on B deck, too.'
Lindsay kept his eyes fixed on the submarine. In the powerful lenses he could see the weed and slime on her exposed hull. She had probably been at sea for weeks, months. Maybe she would have been on her way home by now but for her commander's determination. The sight of two helpless, ungainly targets.
Almost distantly he asked, `Is Number One coping?'
'Yessir.' Dancy's voice was shaking with emotion or barely suppressed excitement. `But one man has been killed, sir. Twenty more wounded by splinters or burns.'
`Very well. Make a signal to Demodocus and request they send the doc to us as soon as possible.'
He turned and looked through a quarter scuttle. The black ammunition ship looked even darker now against the shadows. But she had stayed to watch the fight, even though she would have been blown to hell if Benbecula's tactics had failed.
There was a yell, `There she goes!' And from the upper deck Lindsay heard more shouts and then wild cheering as the submarine began to slide under the surface. For just a few more seconds she hung with her raked stem pointing straight at the sky, holding the last tip of sunlight from the horizon, as if burning from within. Then she vanished.
The cheering faltered and died, and Lindsay saw some of the seamen lining the guardrails to watch in silence as a patch of oil continued to spread across the water, making an even greater darkness, like the shadow of some solitary cloud. `Slow ahead both engines.'
He let the glasses drop against his chest. He could almost feel what those men were thinking, their confusion and uncertainty. This was their first victory, probably one of the few occasions in which a ship built for peace had destroyed one created for war. Now it had happened, their emotions were lost in shock and disbelief.
Stannard said, `Light's al
most gone, sir.' He watched Lindsay's impassive face, waiting for a reaction.
Ritchie called, `Motor boat from the ammo ship approachin', sir!'
`Very well. Pass the word to Number One's people to assist the doctor aboard.'
Lindsay walked slowly to the open door and stared at the shattered gyro repeater. There was a scorched black scar on the plating. The shell had been that near. Twenty feet and it would have exploded inside the wheelhouse. He thought of Stannard and Dancy, Ritchie and all the others who would have died with him.
Stannard joined him by the screen. `Stop engines, sir?'
Lindsay watched the dark shape of a power boat chugging towards the side. `Yes.' He knew Stannard was still there. Waiting. He added. shortly, 'Put a party of our people in the-boat and send it to pick up survivors. If there are any.'
He gripped the rail until the pain steadied him. He heard the telegraphs clang again, the sigh of water against the hull as the ship began to slow down. They had been made to steam past sinking ships. Men like themselves crying out and dying while they and other ships in convoy had obeyed the signal. Keep closed up. Don't look back.
Now there was time, and for a while anyway they were safe from further attack. So they would obey the code. Play out the game. Except that this time the survivors would be German and not their own.
Goss came up to the bridge and said, `Fire's out, sir.' He sounded incredibly tired. Beaten. `The pumps are holding the intake in the hold but the marines' messdeck has been destroyed. God, it looks like a pepperpot on the starboard side!'
Ritchie called from .the wheelhouse, `Ammo ship 'as just called us on R/T, sir. That one shell the Jerry slung-at 'er seems to 'ave put 'er shaft out of line. 'Er chief says 'e don't reckon on bein' able to get even steerage way now.'
Lindsay removed his cap and turned to face the cool evening breeze. After all that, they would have to leave the other ship. Abandon her.
Aloud he said, `If I'd known that before, I'd....'
Rendezvous-South Atlantic Page 25
