Rendezvous-South Atlantic

by Douglas Reeman

  . Now, four days out, and steaming south-west across the blinding blue glare of the Indian Ocean, Lindsay, wondered what the commodore had been offered as his next appointment. A lot would no doubt depend on the success of the convoy, although with such a well planned series of escorts it was hard to see how things could go' wrong.

  He walked to the extent of the port wing and stared astern at the great panorama of ships. Benbecula was leading the starboard line, while one of the big troopers led the centre. The port column was headed by a dazzlepainted cruiser. He let his eyes move along each ship, and wondered how many would survive the whole war. Oiltankers and freighters, grain ships and ore carriers, while in the centre the four stately liners carried the most precious cargo of all. Even without binoculars it was possible to see the packed masses of men on their decks, like pale khaki lines over every foot of open space. The second troopship was partly hidden by the leader, and he wondered where Eve was at this moment. Peering at the Benbecula? Resting in her cabin or chatting to the irrepressible Marion? He could not see the ship without seeing her face in his mind.

  Because of the convoy conferences, the planning and last minute organisation he had only been able to meet her twice, and then briefly.

  As he strainedd his eyes towards the ship he thought of all the coincidences which had brought and held them together. Even the mistake at Liverpool which had sent a girl to her death and kept Eve safe seemed like part of some uncanny plan.

  Through the open wheelhouse door he heard Stan

  nard's voice as he handed over his watch.

  `Course still two-two-zero. One-one-zero revs.' He heard Hunter's muffled reply.

  Stannard walked on to the wing and stared at the ships.

  `Quite a sight, sir.'

  Lindsay glanced at him. He looked strained and sounded as much. He had not spoken of his brother again and made an obvious effort to be his old self. But the signs were only too clear. Perhaps when he got involved with the new navigation course and his next ship he might be too busy to brood.

  `How does it feel, sir?'

  Lindsay saw the Australian's eyes move to his shoulder straps. The fourth gold stripe was very bright and new against the others.

  The unexpected promotion had been one of the first= things which Goss had mentioned when he had returned from the two days leave. You never really knew a man like Goss. If he was deadly serious or trying-to hold on to a secret joke.

  He had said, `Two bits of news, sir. One good. One not so good.'

  The good news had been Lindsay's advancement to captain. The bad had been Commodore Kemp's arrival on board.

  He smiled. `I don't feel any different.'

  It was true. Once, years back, he would have imagined that reaching the coveted rank was all a young officer could wish for. He had changed. Everything seemed and felt different now.

  Stannard seemed surprised. `It's just that 'I've never seen you looking so well, sir. I guess I'll never know the strain of command. Not sure I want to.'

  Lindsay looked at the ships. `I am getting married when we reach the U.K.'

  Stannard gasped. `Well, Jeez, that is, I'm very glad, sir.' He held out his hand. `Hell, that's good news.'

  `You're the first to know.' He wondered why he had told Stannard. Just like that. Seeing his obvious pleasure made him glad he had.

  `Certainly sudden, sir.'

  A signalman called, `From the John P. Ashton, sir. Permission to reduce speed. Engine failure.'

  Lindsay nodded. `Affirmative. Better now than when we run into trouble.'

  The ship in question was an American destroyer, and apart from Benbecula the oldest in the convoy. They had been launched the same year, and Lindsay could sympathise with her captain's problems. She was one of the old four-pipers, now on way to be handed over on loan to the Royal Navy for anti-submarine duty. She was not the first to change flags by this arrangement, but unlike the others she had been on picket duty at Singapore when the Japanese had struck. Now, rolling unsteadily abovee her own image, she was falling away on the convoy's flank, her captain no doubt praying that the fault was nothing fatal:

  Ahead of the convoy two other destroyers were barely visible in sea haze, but Lindsay knew one to be the Merlin. Her captain would be thinking, too. Of his next command. Not one ship but a group. A positive job. Something which really mattered.

  For the first time since rejoining the ship he felt the return of resentment 4nd bitterness. Ashore, he had tried to hide his feelings from Eve, guessing she was probably grateful for his new, appointment. You could not get drowned or burned alive in a training depot. Unless you were born unlucky.

  But now, as he watched the escorting cruiser, the wink of signal lamps, he knew the same feeling.

  He saw de Chair standing on the forward deck watching some of his marines exercising with Bren guns. In their shorts and boots, their bodies tanned from Ceylon's swimming and sunlight, they looked like strangers.

  `From. John P. Ashton, sir. Am under way again.' The man paused. `This chicken is ready for the pot.'

  Stannard said, `What a helluva name for a ship. I wonder who he was.'

  Lindsay grinned. `Old or not, she'll be very welcome. Just about anything afloat is wanted now.'

  Eighteen days out of Ceylon the convoy was off the Cape of Good Hope and heading north-west into the Atlantic. Each day was much like the preceding one. Drills and general routine, with the weather still warm and friendly.` The leading destroyers had been relieved by another pair from Cape Town, and the Royal Indian Navy sloop which followed them this far had returned to her own, country. The cruiser was still with them, and surprisingly, so was the John P. Ashton. She had had two minor breakdowns but always she seemed to manage to be there when a new dawn broke.

  As the forenoon watch took stations around the ship, Lindsay climbed up to the bridge and found Commodore Kemp sitting in his chair staring at the open sea across the bows. Goss had the watch but was on the starboard wing, apparently staying as far as possible from his superior. The latter had hardly shown himself throughout the voyage so far. He had a large cabin aft, formerly an extended stateroom for. very important passengers, which was still retained for much the same reason, although Lindsay suspected Goss's sentiment had a good dealto do with it.

  Kemp turned as Lindsay saluted formally. `I was going to send for you.' He turned to stare forward again. `I've Stannard looked up at the masthead and said quietly, `Except the Becky. They don't want her any more.' .

  Lindsay looked away. `I know how you feel.' What he had said once. before to Stannard. `But there's nothing we can do about it.'

  Stannard sighed. `Well, [ think I'll get my head down, sir. Plenty to do later, I guess.'

  Lindsay waited until he had left the bridge and then raised his glasses to study the second ship of the centre column. It was just possible he might catch-a glimpse of her.

  just had a top secret signal from Admiralty.' He sounded hoarse, and Lindsay'wondered if he was drinking heavily in his private quarters. 'Been a spot of bother off the Cape Verde Islands. A freighter has been sunk Believed to have been shelled by a surface ship.' He shifted his shoulders beneath the spotless drill jacket. `Not our problem, naturally, but it's as well to know these things.'

  Lindsay watched him narrowly. `Was that all, sir?'

  `Admiralty appears to think there may be some connection with another report. A cruiser was badly damaged by a mine. Too far out in the Atlantic for a drifting one from a field. Dropped with some others apparently, on the off chance of hitting any stray ship.in the area.' '

  Lindsay clenched his fists to steady himself. `It must be that raider again. Has to be.'

  Kemp replied evasively, `We don't know that for certain. Nobody does. Anyway, if the two attacks are connected, the Hun is in for a shock. This convoy is on the top secret list, and so is our additional cruiser screen. If the enemy tries to tangle with us, I can whistle up enough heavy guns to cut him into little shreds!' He swivelled
in the chair and glared at him. `Satisfied?'

  Lindsay caught the smell of brandy. `Not entirely.'

  He walked to the teak rail and ran his hands along it. `Was there any other information from the freighter before she was silenced?'

  Kemp swallowed. `She was a Greek. Said she was going to the assistance of a Spanish merchantman which was in difficulties.'

  Lindsay bit his lip. How long would it take for people to realise and see through this simple trick? Without effort he could visualise the savage gunflashes against the drifting ice, the burning hull and the Wren who was blind.

  Kemp was right about one thing. If the raider came upon this convoy, even the one cruiser in company should be more than a match. But with the distant screen as well she would not stand an earthly, even of getting in range.

  Kemp appeared to think his silence was an acceptanceand added curtly, `In another week we'll be meeting with a heavy additional escort from Freetown.' The thought seemed to give him new confidence. `Like a clock, that's how I like things.'

  The rear door slid back and Midshipman Kemp walked into the wheelhouse.

  The commodore watched him make a few notations in the bridge log and said, 'Ah, Jeremy. There you are. Wondered what you were doing.' He gave a careful smile. `Been hiding from me, eh?'

  The boy looked at him. `Sir?'

  The commodore spread his hands. `I shouldn't beat all surprised if you have a pleasant surprise waiting for you in England. I'm not promising anything, of course,-but if I put a word in the right direction, I believe you may get something to your advantage.' He beamed around the quiet wheelhouse. -The impassive quartermaster, the signalman, a bosun's mate who was looking anywhere but at him.

  The midshipman asked flatly, `Is that all you wanted, sir?'

  The commodore swung away. `Yes. Carry on.' As the door slid shut he snapped, `Bloody ungrateful little tyke!'

  Jupp came from the port wing carrying a tray covered with a napkin. He saw Lindsay and showed his teeth.

  `Coffee and a sandwich, sir.'

  Kemp said coldly, `What about me?'

  `Sir?' Jupp placed the tray carefully on a vibrating flag locker. `I will inform your steward that you wish 'im to fetch somethin' for you.' He looked at the man's angry face.. `Sir.'

  The commodore -thrust his thickset body from the chair and stalked to the door. As he disappeared down the ladder Lindsay seemed to feel the men around him come to life, saw the quartermaster give a quick wink at the signalman.

  He said, `It won't do, Jupp.' He smiled gravely. `And it won't help either.'

  Jupp folded the napkin into four quarters. `I'm not with you, sir? Did I do anythin'?'

  Lindsay grinned. `Get back to your pantry while you're still alive!'

  Goss re-entered the wheelhouse and yawned hugely. `God, it smells better in here!'

  Lindsay turned away. They were all at it. Even Goss. For the ship and for him. It was the only way they knew of showing their true feelings.

  Jupp was still hovering by the flag locker. `Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but I 'ave to report some missin' gear from the wardroom.'

  Goss interrupted calmly, `Not to worry. I expect some bloody coolie lifted it. Or maybe it went down a gash chute by accident.'

  Lindsay did not know how to face them. `Silver teapots?'

  Jupp sounded surprised. `Well, as a matter of fact, yes, sir.'

  Goss sighed. `One of those things.' He walked to the wing again, his face devoid of expression.

  Lindsay began to see more and more of the commodore in the days which followed. He said little and contented himself. with examining incoming signals or just sitting in silence on the bridge chair.

  That he was growing increasingly worried became obvious as news was received from the Admiralty signals of a new and changing pattern in enemy activity. It seemed there was no longer any doubt that all the incidents were linked. A German raider was at large, and more to the point, was the same one which Lindsay had last seen off Greenland.

  Her captain was a man who appeared to care little for his own safety. Several times he had barely missed the searching cruisers and the net was closing in on him rapidly. The last sinking had been three hundred miles north-east of Trinidad, and because of it some small convoys had been' held up for fear of another attack. There were too few escorts available on the opposite side of the Atlantic, and the U-boat menace further north, made the hope of any quick transfer of forces unlikely. Badly needed convoys were made to stay at anchor or in port while the cruisers increased their efforts to hunt the German down once and for all.

  Two. days before the anticipated meeting with the Freetown escorts Kemp sent for Lindsay in his quarters. He was sitting in a deep sofa, the deck around his feet covered with signals and written instructions. He seemed to have aged in the past week, and there were deep furrows around his eyes and mouth. He did not ask Lindsay to sit down.

  `Another sinking report'.'

  Lindsay nodded. He had seen it for himself. A Danish tanker sailing in ballast without escort had been shelled and sunk barely a hundred miles from the previous sinking. This time the Danish captain had managed to get off more than a cry for help. There was now no doubt the raider was the same ship.

  He replied, `The German's working south, sir. Trying to catch the Americas trade as much as possible.' He added, `He'll sink a few more poor devils before he's run to earth.' He did not try to hide the bitterness.

  Kemp picked up a signal and then dropped it again. `I . know he can't get at us.' He looked up, his eyes blazing. `They've ordered our cruiser screen westward. Taken it away from my support!'

  Lindsay watched him coldly. `Yes, sir. I heard.'

  `Didn't even consider what I might think about it.'

  `They've no choice. If the raider continues to move south or south-east the cruisers will have him in the bag. He can't run forever.'

  `This is a valuable convoy. Perhaps vital.' He seemed to be speaking his thoughts aloud. `It's. wrong to expect me to take all the responsibility.'

  Lindsay said, `Was that all you wanted, sir?'

  The commodore watched him with sudden anger. `I know what you're hoping! That I'll make some mistake so that you can crow about it!'

  `Then you don't know me at all.' Lindsay kept his voice level. `When. you are in charge of any convoy there is always the risk of change and sudden alteration in planning. It doesn't necessarily go like a clock.'

  There was a tap at the door and Stannard stepped into the cabin.

  Kemp glared at him. `Well?'

  `Another signal from Admiralty, sir. Request you detach the cruiser Canopus and destroyer escort immediately.' He looked at Lindsay. `They are to leave with all speed and join in the search.' He shrugged. `It seems that the net is tightening.'

  Kemp nodded. `Execute.' As the door closed he muttered, `Now there's just this ship until the Freetown escorts arrive.' He looked up. `When will that be?'

  `Forty-eight hours, sir. We crossed the twentieth parallel at noon today.'

  Lindsay left him with his thoughts and returned to the bridge. The cruiser was already moving swiftly clear of her column, and far ahead of the convoy he could see the two destroyers gathering speed to take station on her.

  `Signal the freighter Brittany to take lead ship in the port column.' He raised his glasses and watched the lamp winking from the other vessel's bridge.

  He said, `It seems we're in charge of things, Yeo.'

  Ritchie, who was keeping an eye on his signalman, nodded. "Cept for the Yank, sir.' He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. `She's still with us, more or less.'

  Lindsay smiled. There was no real danger but it was strange that in a matter of hours their hidden strength had melted away to leave the two oldest ships as a sole protection.

  `Signal the John P. Ashton to assume station ahead of the convoy.

  Ritchie said, `She'll blow 'er boilers, sir.'

  `Her captain will know he's the only one now with submarine detection gea
r. He won't have to be told what to do.'

  Later, as the elderly destroyer thrashed past the other ships he saw her light blinking rapidly and heard Ritchie say, `Signal, sir. This must be Veterans Day.' He shook his head. `He ain't kiddin' either.'

  When darkness fell -over the three columns the - American four-piper had retained her position well ahead of the convoy. Lindsay hoped she did not break down overnight. She stood a good chance of being rammed by several of the big ships if she did. With that in mind, her engineers would no doubt be doubly careful:

  He was lolling in his chair, half sleeping, half listening to the engines' steady beat, when Stannard roused him again. He was actually asleep when the watch had changed -and had heard nothing at all. He had been dreaming of a sunlit beach. The girl, wet with spray and warm in his arms. Laughing.

  He straightened himself in the chair. `Yes?'

  Stannard had his back to the shaded compass light and Lindsay could not see his face.

  `Just decoded an urgent signal, sir. Admiralty. If you come into the chart room you can read it.'

  `Just tell me.' He waited, almost knowing what he would say.

  'R.A.F. reconnaissance have reported a large German unit at sea. Out of Brest, sir.'

  Lindsay stared at him. `When was this?'

  `That's just it. They don't know. Weather has been very bad for aerial photography and the flak has been extra thick around Brest lately. The Jerries have been using all sorts of camouflage, nets and so forth. All they do know for sure is that one large unit is not there any more.'

  `When was the last check made?'

  `Two weeks back, sir.' Stannard sounded apprehensive. `Won't affect us, will it? I mean, this is a top secret convoy.'

  Lindsay slid from the chair. `Nothing's that secret. How can you hide twenty-four ships and God knows how many people?' He added sharply, `Send someone to rouse the commodore. He'll want to know.'

  As Stannard hurried to a telephone Lindsay walked out on to the port wing. He could see the nearest troopship quite clearly in the moonlight, her boat deck and twin funnels standing out against the stars like parts of a fortress.