CHAPTER VII
A U-BOAT OF SORTS
THE "old hooker" was plugging along at a steady twelve knots. Atfrequent intervals copious quantities of spray would be flung inboardas her bows plunged into the long swell. Running dead into the eye ofthe wind, she gave one an exaggerated idea of speed, for even in alight breeze the wire rigging supporting the two short mastsverberated tunefully in the night air.
From the partly closed fo'c'sle hatchway came sounds of mild revelry.Meredith smiled at the noise, for he recognised amongst others thevoices of some of his own men. Evidently the ex-crew of M.L. 1071were taking kindly to their new surroundings, and were not in theleast perturbed by their change of fortune.
"Hefty sort of hooker after an M.L." remarked Wakefield. "And whatdid you tell me was her name?"
"I didn't tell you any name, for the simple reason that she hasn'tone. She's simply Q 171, while to Fritz she appears as U 251--butFritz doesn't get away to tell the tale."
"What are these for?" asked Kenneth, kicking his boot against one ofa pair of metal rails that ran fore and aft.
"Our tram-lines," explained the lieutenant-commander of Q 171. "Alittle device to clear decks for action in a brace of shakes. See ourconning-tower and that superstructure arrangement abaft it? They'reduds. Stand aside a minute, and I'll give a little demonstration ofhow things are worked. A bit further--that's it; now you are clear ofthe rails. Jackson!"
"Sir!"
A bearded petty officer came aft at a double, and awaited orders.
"The gadget!" exclaimed Morpeth laconically.
The man ran for'ard and was lost to sight beyond the break of theconning-tower.
Ten seconds later, impelled by a swift and invisible force, theconning-tower and the raised superstructure glided forward along therails, leaving exposed in all their stark aggressiveness three largeobjects resembling exaggerated drain-pipes.
"Torpedo-tubes, by Jove!" exclaimed Wakefield.
"Guess you've never seen the type before," remarked thelieutenant-commander of Q 171. "They are shorter than the standardpattern, and, as you might observe, are not exactly parallel.Discharge all three torpedoes simultaneously, and they run onslightly divergent courses."
"Doesn't give Fritz much of a chance," observed Meredith.
"Not a dog's chance, old thing," rejoined Morpeth. "They're only14-inch torpedoes, but they're just some. Blow a hole in abattleship's hull large enough to take a stage-coach, so you canimagine what happens when Fritz stops one--perhaps two, and veryoccasionally three. In a way a fellow can't help feeling sorry forFritz, but he's asked for it all along the line. If he'd played astraight game with his U-boats we would have given him credit forwhat he'd done, and taken our chances. That chap who torpedoed our_Cressy_, _Hogue_, and _Aboukir_ early in the war did a smart thing,and the Navy admitted it; but now all the decent U-boat skippers havepacked up, or else have degenerated into low-down curs."
"Precisely," agreed Wakefield. "Hospital ships, and all that sort ofbusiness."
"Unarmed merchantmen--that's why we've had to take on the Q-boatstunt. Hardly seems proper jonnick to lure a Fritz within range, andthen blow him to bits, but, as I said before, he's asked for it."
"Bagged many?"
"A few," admitted the R.N.R. man modestly; then, pleased at a suddenrecollection, he squared his massive shoulders and burst into ahearty roar of laughter. "That reminds me of the last Fritz wescuppered. We had information that a U-boat was knocking around offBass Rock, playing Old Harry with small coasting craft out ofArbroath and Granton, so we sent out the old s.s. _Niblick_--one ofthe Pink Funnel Line. She had been sold to a firm of ship-breakers,but when the pinch came they fitted her out again. Well, we followedan hour after the _Niblick_ left Montrose, got within range, andstarted firing at her, or rather putting shells into the sea within ahundred yards or so. Presently we sighted a periscope. Fritz couldn'tquite understand things, since he imagined he was the only U-boatsculling around. But after a while he couldn't resist the temptationof joining in the pursuit, and he blew ballast-tanks and came to thesurface at a cable's length broad on our starboard beam. Before hecould get to work on the _Niblick_ with his bow quick-firer, he wentto the bottom for good and all. It required only one of our torpedoesfor that job."
"That's the stuff to give 'em!" exclaimed Meredith.
"It strikes me, Sub," observed Wakefield, as he stifled a yawn, "thatwe of the M.L. patrol will have to pack up. There's nothin' doin' forus now the Q-boats are out."
"Ever sighted a Fritz?" inquired Morpeth.
Wakefield was obliged to confess that he had not.
"I'm not surprised," continued the R.N.R. skipper. "Your littlepackets make too much noise. I wouldn't mind betting that Fritz hashad a squint at you many a time through his periscope, and then he'spromptly legged it. You're like a fat policeman on the track of ayoung burglar. It's the moral effect that tells. Before we cover upthese beauties I'd like to show you the torpedoes."
With a dexterous movement Morpeth opened the breech of one of thetubes. Unlike the standard pattern, which is closed by means of sixbutterfly nuts, the breech mechanism consisted of an interceptedthread action somewhat similar to that of a quick-firer.
"We bagged that idea from the Hun," remarked Morpeth. "Now here isour tinfish: it has a range of only two miles, but quite enough forour purpose. Propulsive force, electric, and no fooling about withcompressed air."
The M.L. officers examined the well-oiled glistening steel cylinders.In the bright moonlight the missiles looked harmless enough, but ittook very little effort of the imagination to picture the fate of acraft torn by the explosion of fifty pounds of gun-cotton and aminol.
"The hydrophone-room," announced Morpeth, indicating a hatchwayalmost amidships. "That's nothing new to you, I'm sure. Here is ourengine-room--petrol motors, of course."
"And your speed?" asked Wakefield.
"We are running normally--twelve knots."
"Yes--but all out?"
"With luck we might touch thirty-eight," was the unconcerned reply."It isn't very often we do that--it's not necessary when we'reFritz-hunting--but when the Hun does come out with his light cruisersand torpedo boats, then we just show a clean pair of heels beforethey as much as sight us. Once they get an inkling that a BritishQ-boat is out disguised as a U-boat, then we may just as well pay offand save the taxpayers."
"But if their aircraft spotted you?" asked Meredith. "Your speedwouldn't help you much then."
"I agree," said Morpeth. "Aircraft are, in my opinion, unmitigatednuisances--that is, as far as we are concerned on this little stunt.When I see any of our blimps or flying-boats I get the wind up,because they naturally take us for a U-boat; and unless we're prettysmart at making our distinguishing signs, and they are equally smartat reading the same, they proceed with the utmost relish to strafeus. When I meet the Air Force fellows ashore I chip 'em and say it'sbecause they're jealous."
"And when you spot a Hun 'plane?" inquired Wakefield.
"That's quite a different story. Just step aft a minute."
Morpeth led the way abaft the engine-room hatchway. On the centreline of the narrow deck was a metal flap about eighteen inchessquare.
"Our anti-aircraft gun is below there," observed the R.N.R. officer."No, we don't lug it on deck. It's fired from below. Now, when a Hunspots us and we can't make ourselves scarce, we stop our engines anddisplay a signal as per Imperial German Navy Code Book, a copy ofwhich was issued to me by the British Admiralty."
"I know the thing," remarked Wakefield.
"Down swoops inquisitive Fritz," continued Morpeth, "and then wehave him cold."
Wakefield stifled another yawn.
"'Scuse me," he murmured apologetically, "but it's not because I'mnot interested. I am, really; but Nature is reminding me that I'vehad no sleep for the last twenty-four hours."
"By Jove! Why didn't you tell me before?" demanded Morpeth, ingenuine concern. "Turn in, both of you, at once; and if you're outbef
ore the sun's over the fore-yard there'll be trouble."
"Right-o, on one condition," rejoined Wakefield.
The R.N.R. lieutenant-commander smiled grimly.
"I don't have fellows making conditions with the skipper of thishooker as a general rule," he remarked. "But what is it?"
"That we are called if there's any little stunt on," continuedWakefield.
"That's a deal," agreed Morpeth. "Good-night."
The Mystery Ship: A Story of the 'Q' Ships During the Great War Page 7
