The Mystery Ship: A Story of the 'Q' Ships During the Great War

by Percy F. Westerman

  CHAPTER XXV

  TRAPPED

  COLD, grey dawn was stealing over the North Sea. Hull down to theeast'ard, her cage-mast just showing above the horizon, lay the HoornReefs Lightship. Off the tail of the bank that fringes Denmark'sshores Hun submarines were in the habit of bringing up and receivingwireless orders before venturing through the inner mine-fields eitherto the mouth of the Elbe or northwards to the Baltic through theKattegat.

  Q 171 was moving slowly through the greyish-green water. Her tripletorpedo-tubes were ready with their deadly complements; herquick-firers, trained fore and aft after the manner of U-boatsreturning to their bases, were ready for action at a moment's notice.The torpedo-men and gun crews, sheltering under the lee of the dummyconning-tower, were keenly on the alert, watching their commandingofficer as he, in his turn, watched the broad expanse of sea overwhich the rising sun would shortly throw its slanting rays.

  Supporting himself by the shaft of the periscope, which, like theconning-tower, was a "dud," Morpeth again and again raised hisprism-binoculars to his eyes. Just below him stood Wakefield,conscious of a peculiar sensation of mingled doubts and hopes. He,too, shared with Morpeth the feeling that the climax was at hand. Thegreat stunt that was to deal a terrific blow to Germany's campaign ofunrestricted warfare was imminent. Would it succeed?

  The plan of operations was daring in its simplicity. According toinformation obtained from a British Secret Service agent in Kiel, twogiant submarine-cruisers were leaving the German Baltic port, passingthrough the Imperial Kiel Canal during the hours of darkness, andleaving Brunsbuttel the following night for the Hoorn Reefsrendezvous. Here they were to take on board two experienced U-boatcommanders from submarines expected to be homeward-bound from theIrish Sea, and then proceed to the Atlantic seaboard of the UnitedStates. Capable of keeping the sea for a period of sixty days withouthaving to re-fuel or re-provision, these submarine-cruisers were adirect menace to the Allies in general and to Uncle Sam inparticular. Consequently, if Morpeth's plans were successful and hewere able to destroy both submarine-cruisers before the returningU-boats arrived at the rendezvous, the moral effects of themysterious disappearance of two brand-new additions to Germany'sunder-sea fleet would be more far-reaching than their actual loss.

  And the hour was approaching when the two submarine-cruisers wouldarrive at the rendezvous--and then Q 171 would strike--swiftly andwith annihilating force.

  Right aft stood Meredith and Ainslie. The former was in charge of theafter quick-firer, while on the other sub-lieutenant rested theresponsibility of "dumping the ash-cans," or, in other words,dropping the depth-charges, should they be required. He also hadcharge of the hand-steerage flat, where, in the event of theelectrically-operated wheel becoming disabled, the work of steeringthe Q-boat would be undertaken.

  "Fritz is late in keeping his appointment," remarked Meredith."Beastly uncivil of him on a cold morning like this."

  Ainslie swung his arms vigorously and stamped with his rubber bootsupon the metal deck.

  "We'll forgive him if he shows up," he remarked. "Wonder if there'llbe a chance of a scrap? By the by, you've your gasmask ready?"

  "Yes, old son," replied Meredith, producing a hideous-lookingcontraption from the pocket of his oilskin coat. "We hadn't themissued to us on the M.L.'s, for which many thanks. Gosh! What wouldthe old folks at home say if they could see their little Kenneth inthis?"

  "You do look a Hun," admitted Ainslie, as Meredith rather clumsilyclipped the antigas device to his nose. "What a dash you'd cut at akids' Christmas party! Got everything--pneumatic life-belt, first-aidoutfit, meat lozenges, spirit flask an' all, in case you fancyrivalling a cross-Channel swimmer?"

  Meredith gravely assured his questioner that he had all the articlesnamed.

  "Right-o," rejoined Ainslie. "And just kick over the oiler. Here's alink that wants a drop of oil pretty badly. Thanks, old thing."

  The Sub was about to attend to what appeared to be a stiff link inthe dummy deckgear release, when a cry came from for'ard:

  "Submarine two points on the starboard bow, sir!"

  At a distance of two miles in the direction indicated lay a U-boatmotionless, with her deck just awash. Telescopes and binoculars werebrought to bear upon her.

  "That's not the bird I want," declared Morpeth. "She's one of theordinary submarine mine-layers. We'll sheer off. No sprat to catch amackerel for me!"

  Q 171 turned eight points to port. Expecting at any moment to bechallenged by the U-boat, Morpeth gave a curt order to the signalman.The latter toggled the _soi-disant_ U 251's signal numbers to thehalliards and stood by.

  "They don't keep a sharp look-out," remarked Wakefield. "If we canspot them lying awash, surely they've twigged us by now."

  "Just back from a cruise, I expect," surmised the R.N.R. officer."And jolly glad to be back out of it, so they're holding on to theslack."

  "Where's the other one, then?" inquired Wakefield. "There were twoexpected."

  "She's neither of 'em," explained Morpeth. "Sort of stray cat cominghome. The ones expected to meet the submarine-cruisers are bigones--three hundred feet or thereabouts. This one's not more'n acouple of hundred. I'd slip a tinfish into her with the greatest ofpleasure, only that would spoil the proper stunt. _Au revoir_,Fritz!"

  "Seaplane, sir!" shouted one of the crew.

  "Confounded nuisance!" muttered "Tough Geordie." "Get our decorationsready, lads, and look slippy about it."

  Two or three of the hands prepared to unroll a couple of squarepieces of canvas. These were Morpeth's "decorations," or, in otherwords, the vessel's "aircraft distinction discs." On one side of thecanvas were painted red, white and blue concentric circles--theBritish hall-mark for aerial efficiency. On the reverse were blackMaltese crosses on a white ground--the symbol adopted by Hunaircraft. In both cases the same device showed on the deck of a shipdenoted her either as a friend or foe.

  "Hun, sir!" shouted three or four voices in unison, when the rapidlyapproaching seaplane drew near enough for the crew of Q 171 todistinguish the Black Crosses on her wings.

  "Up with 'em!" shouted Morpeth.

  Dexterously "Tough Geordie's" decorations were unfolded andexhibited--one at the top of the conning-tower, the other just abaftthe for'ard gun.

  Right aft the gun-layer of the concealed anti-aircraft weapon keptthe sights trained on the approaching Hun, ready and eager at theword of command to let fly with a novel type of shell that onbursting would entail the immediate destruction of any aircraftwithin a couple of hundred feet of the point of detonation.

  "'Nother seaplane right astern, sir!" roared a seaman in stentoriantones.

  "Confound it!" ejaculated Morpeth. "What is their little game?"

  The anti-aircraft gun could have effectively silenced one seaplane,but the other would have turned and flown off to give the alarm. Soimpassively Q 171 held on, every man on board (except von Preugfeldand von Loringhoven, who were ignorant of what was transpiring)fervently hoping that the Hun airmen would take it for granted thatshe was a U-boat.

  With a rush and a roar the first seaplane dived steeply, flatteningout and passing within fifty feet of the mystery ship's deck.Meredith distinctly felt the rush of air from her wake and could makeout the goggled and helmeted heads of the observer andmachine-gunner. The pilot behind his triple glass screen wasinvisible.

  The seaplane began climbing in vast circles, until it became a meredot in the now sunlit sky. The second Hun, content with hovering atfive hundred feet for nearly five minutes, also began climbing, andfinally both disappeared behind a stratum of high, fleecy clouds.

  "Hanged if I like that!" remarked Morpeth.

  "They've probably mistaken us for one of the returning U-boats,"suggested Wakefield. "In that case they've cleared off to report thatthe submarine-cruisers can repair to the rendezvous."

  "Let's hope you're right," added Morpeth. "Once I bag thosesubmarine-cruisers, I'll take my chance with the seaplanes."

  He rapped out an
order to the quartermaster.

  Round swung Q 171 until she steadied on a course that would bring heronce more within a short distance of the U-boat they had sighted soonafter dawn.

  She was practically in the same position, but had swung with thechange of tide--a fact which indicated that she was riding at anchor.

  For full half an hour Morpeth kept her under observation, but no signof life was visible on board.

  "Another mutiny?" queried Meredith.

  "Hardly," replied Wakefield. "Unless it were a general mutiny amongstthe submarine fleet, and this one were left behind. No, it's notthat."

  "Then what do you think?" asked the Sub.

  "A booby-trap, possibly. If so, then Morpeth's stunt is off. I'll seewhat he says."

  The late skipper of M.L. 1071 went up to the R.N.R. officer andsaluted--as he always did when on deck.

  "Yes," admitted "Tough Geordie" gloomily. "I'm afraid that it's abooby-trap. Those seaplanes, too, rather support the theory. Andthere are no signs of the submarine-cruisers. If nothing turns up bynoon I'll torpedo that packet and leg it home at the rate of knots."

  "Any objection to my boarding her?" asked Wakefield.

  "None, as far as I am concerned," replied Morpeth, "provided, ofcourse, you take all reasonable precautions. I'll be ready in case ofan accident, but I must insist upon your taking a volunteer crew."

  A boarding-party was quickly forthcoming, consisting of Wakefield,Meredith, an armourer's mate, and two bluejackets. Launching thecollapsible dinghy, they approached the U-boat, while Q 171, herconcealed torpedo-tubes bearing on the former's hull, was ready tofrustrate or at any rate to avenge any attempt upon theboarding-party.

  A rope ladder trailed forlornly over the U-boat's bulging side. ThisWakefield studiously avoided, making for the after-part where thelong tapering stern dipped beneath the surface.

  He hailed in German. No reply came from the apparently desertedcraft, which was fretting at her cable in the now strong tideway.

  Wakefield motioned to the rowers to pull alongside. Followed byMeredith and the armourer's mate, he gained the rusty deck.

  "Hatches are closed," he said, in a low voice.

  "Soon have them open, sir," declared the petty officer confidently.

  "I think not," replied Wakefield. "Not until we've looked round abit."

  The three men moved for'ard. There were signs that the boat had notrecently been in commission. Apparently she had been towed out ofharbour and moored in the isolated position off the Hoorn Reefs. Why?If as a mark-boat to assist returning submarines to verify theirposition, the fact of closed hatches was easily explained. Beingshut, they enabled her to ride out a spell of bad weather, otherwiseshe would have foundered.

  "That's curious," exclaimed Meredith, pointing to the closedfore-hatch.

  "What?" asked Wakefield.

  "This," replied the Sub, pointing to a small, almost unnoticeabledisc let in flush with the steel lid.

  "By Jove, rather!" agreed the lieutenant. "An ebonite plug with acopper core! Yes; look here. There's a corresponding gadget on thedeck. The two would come in contact when the holding down bolts ofthe hatch are released and the cover flies back. I fancy we were wisenot to meddle with those hatch covers, or our curiosity would havelanded us in a hole."

  "She's stuffed with explosives, then?"

  "Precisely," agreed Wakefield. "Once the circuit is completed byopening any of these hatches, up she goes, and anyone on board withher. We've seen enough. We'll clear out."

  "What's the reason?" inquired Meredith.

  "Ask Morpeth," was the reply. "He'll probably tell you that detailsof his stunt have leaked out. Hello! Seaplanes coming back? Lookalive there!"

  The boarding-party hurried to the boat. Quickly the rowers gave way.It was a race between a comparatively slow-moving boat and a pair ofswift seaplanes. The former had to cover about two hundred yards: thelatter a distance of from two to three miles.

  The aircraft would have won hands down had they not banked andcircled. As it was, there was time for Wakefield and his party toregain the mystery ship.

  "Fritz has smelt a rat," reported the R.N.V.R. officer. "ThatU-boat's chock-a-block with explosives."

  "Good enough!" declared Morpeth, ringing for "Easy ahead, bothengines." "See that the smoke-screen gear is ready, Wakefield. We maywant it, badly."

  Q 171 increased her distance from the booby-trap to a good twocables' length, then she turned until she could bring her broadsidetorpedo-tubes to bear upon the anchored U-boat.

  Diving steeply, the first seaplane swooped down to within threehundred feet. From underneath her fuselage a black object droppedswiftly--then another. Four seconds later the first missile struckthe water, exploding with a deafening report unpleasantly close tothe Q-boat's starboard quarter and deluging the after quick-firer'screw with spray. The second bomb fell further away.

  Morpeth gave no signal to the anti-aircraft gun, although thedeparting seaplane offered a tempting target. His cool and ready witsaw an opening and he took it.

  Both Hun machines were now flying on a parallel course, the first onemanoeuvring to return to the attack. Incautiously they wereapproaching the anchored U-boat.

  Like an arrow from a bow, a gleaming steel cylinder leapt from theQ-boat's side. Striking the water with a shower of spray, it divedobliquely and made straight for the Hun's booby-trap, its trailclearly defined by the milky foam on the surface.

  Suddenly there was a lurid flash that seemed to outshine the light ofthe sun. A roar so stupendous that it shook Q 171 from stem to sterngave warning that the torpedo had reached its mark.

  The terrific crash was not merely the result of the torpedodetonating. Laden with tons of powerful explosive, the decoy U-boatwas literally blown to fragments. Even at the intervening distancepieces of molten metal hit Q 171 with great force. Fragments rattledagainst her side and on her deck like hailstones upon a galvanisediron shed.

  For a brief space officers and men were stupefied by the overpoweringconcussion. Wakefield and three of the seamen were hit by flyingdebris, although fortunately the wounds were nothing worse than skindeep. In fact, Wakefield, in the excitement of it all, was unaware ofthe fact until Meredith called his attention to a trickle of blooddown his cheek.

  The first seaplane, which at the moment of explosion was immediatelyabove the anchored U-boat, had vanished utterly in the irresistibleblast of fire. The other, with her wings and tail planes riddled andrent, fluttered downwards like a wounded bird until, the dropdeveloping into a tail-spin, she crashed into the sea. Floats wereshattered under the impact, and almost before the foam had subsidedthe wreck of the second seaplane had disappeared beneath the waves.

  "The stunt's a wash-out," declared Morpeth disappointedly. "It mighthave been worse, though, if those seaplanes had brought a crowd oftheir pals with them instead of being too sure off their own bat.We'll have to leg it for home."

  "If we can," added Wakefield calmly. "Look!"

  He pointed with outstretched arm towards the south-west. Peltingalong at high speed, with their funnels belching out clouds ofoil-fed smoke, were seven German ocean-going torpedo boats.Simultaneously, away to the nor'ard, three more columns of smokeindicated pretty plainly that Fritz was doing his utmost to trap thetoo daring Q-boat.

  "Tough Geordie" shrugged his massive shoulders.

  "Looks like a bit of a scrap after all," he remarked.