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

by Percy F. Westerman

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  THE SCUTTLING

  "I SAY, old bean!" exclaimed Cumberleigh. "Can you give me a goodtip?"

  "For what?" inquired Meredith cautiously.

  "It's like this," explained the R.A.F. officer. "I've three days'leave. Why I've been granted it is a mystery, as one doesn't get muchin the R.A.F. without asking for it. However, that is a digression.The bald facts of the case are I have three days' leave, which meansthat I have to report for duty on Monday. Now it's perfectly obviousthat I can't get home and back in the time; I haven't the cheek towire for an extension, so what can I do to spend the time?"

  "You miserable blighter!" exclaimed Kenneth laughing, "Do you mean totell me you didn't know we were running round to Aberdeen?"

  "Guilty, m'lud," confessed Cumberleigh. "I may as well admit that Iwas fishing for an invite. More'n that, I've packed my kit-bag inanticipation of a sea-trip for the benefit of my health."

  It was now summer. In the warm long-drawn days the Orkneys were attheir best. Forgotten almost were those strenuous periods of patrolamidst the fierce winter gales and snowstorms--or at least timemellowed the reminiscences, partly obliterating the dark phases andkeeping alive the pleasing episodes of the Long, Long Trick.

  M.L. 1497 had been ordered to convey a small bulk of naval stores toAberdeen--articles urgently required but not sufficient to warrantthe use of a naval storeship. The run was a short one--a little over100 miles. It would give the crew a few hours ashore to see thesights of The Granite City.

  "Wakefield's not coming along, I suppose?" asked Cumberleigh.

  "No; he's on Inner Patrol," replied Kenneth. "I'm short-handed, too;had to land my Sub yesterday. Got mumps or some other cheerfulthing--no, don't look alarmed. It was my mistake. Toothache. I knewit was something with a swollen face about it. In a way it's ablessing in disguise. There's a bunk waiting for you."

  Almost without incident, the run to Aberdeen was accomplished inrecord time. The motors ran without a hitch, and carrying afavourable tide most of the way M.L. 1497 averaged 19 knots "over theground."

  "Enough for to-day," remarked Meredith as the M.L. was safelyberthed, and he was changing into shore-kit in the ward-room. "I'llgive general leave till eleven to-night. One man will have to remainon board. Now, then, Cumberleigh, my dear old thing----"

  "Gentleman to see you, sir," called out one of the men.

  "Who the----" began Meredith wonderingly. He had no acquaintances inAberdeen as far as he knew. But the next instant he gave anexclamation of pleasurable surprise as a well-known voice exclaimed:

  "Eh, laddie, I thought 'twas you I saw coming in past the NorthPier."

  "Jock McIntosh, by the powers!" ejaculated Meredith. "Come on down.By Jove! This is great--absolutely."

  It was Jock, but not the Jock of yore. McIntosh was rigged out incivilian clothes of distinctly post-war quality. He had lost thealertness that he had acquired, despite his heavy build, during hisservice afloat. He descended the steep ladder awkwardly, his heavyboots clattering and slipping on the brass treads of the steps.

  "Eh, lad," he remarked, "but you were about right. I'm downrightsorry I'm out of it. Life ashore is a bit dour, and when I saw youbringing the old packet into harbour I'd have given my last shillingto have been in sea-rig again."

  "Cheer up," said Meredith. "We'll all be in the same boat before verylong. Demobbing is going strong just at present. What are you doingin Aberdeen?"

  "Buying a boat," replied Jock simply.

  "What? Buying a boat?" exclaimed Kenneth. "What sort of boat? Ithought you'd had enough of the sea."

  "A good many of us thought that," said McIntosh soberly. "I wasmistaken. It's the call of the sea, d'ye ken? So half a dozen of us,all out of the Motor-Boat crush, have pooled and bought a drifter.There's money in it... and we'll be afloat. You must come along, seethe old boat, and be introduced to the lads."

  "Glad to," replied Meredith. "So you're going fishing?"

  Jock shook his head.

  "No; coastal trade," he replied. "Running up along to Peterhead,Frazerburgh, Banff and perhaps Wick. The autumn we'll go south. Someof the fellows were in the Dover Patrol and at Scilly. There'sfreight always to be picked up."

  "That chap's on a sound scheme," remarked Cumberleigh, when McIntoshhad gone ashore.

  "Yes; and he was always talking of what he was going to do on thebeach when the War was over," said Kenneth. "There were dozens ofM.L. fellows who ran yachts before the war. Now there's a chance--agood chance--to combine business with pleasure and go in for thecoasting trade. It's worth thinking over."

  Early next morning M.L. 1497 discharged her small but valuableconsignment of Government stores, filled up with petrol, and awaitedinstructions. Somewhat to Meredith's disappointment, came telegraphicorders:--

  "Proceed at once."

  "It means a night trip," observed Meredith. "Fortunately it's calmand the nights are short. It will rather upset your leave, old man,to find yourself back at Scapa to-morrow."

  "Anything wrong, I wonder?" asked Cumberleigh.

  "Don't suppose so," replied Kenneth. "Merely a brain wave on the partof some shore-loafing minion in the S.N.O.'s office. However, 'anorder's a norder; an' it's a nard life,' as I once overheard amatloe remark."

  Apparently M.L. 1497 was in no hurry to return to her base, forshortly after midnight her engines "konked." For some hours shewallowed in the swell a few miles from the shores of Caithness, whilesweating mechanics struggled with sooted plugs and choked jets.

  It was broad daylight before the trouble was overcome, and the M.L.was able to resume her interrupted return run.

  "I wonder what von Preussen is doing," remarked Cumberleigh, as therocky shores of the Orkneys appeared above the horizon. "Somehow I'vegot the idea that he was up to some mischief when we spotted himaboard the _Hohenhoorn_."

  "Shouldn't be surprised," agreed Meredith. "I reported the incident,but nothing seems to have been done. Unfortunately our people arehampered by the Allied Congress; otherwise the Huns wouldn't be onboard now--nearly six months after the Armistice."

  A quarter of an hour later Kenneth raised his binoculars.

  "Seems much the same old show," he observed. "Fritz is stilloccupying the best berths in Scapa Flow. Wonder why we were recalledso hurriedly? Hello! There's old Wakefield coming out to meet us."

  M.L. 1499 approached rapidly, then turning sixteen points to port,drew within hailing distance.

  "What's wrong?" shouted Meredith through a megaphone.

  "Nothing, as far as I know," replied Wakefield. "Why are you back sosoon?"

  "Ask me another," rejoined Kenneth. "I was afraid we had orders topack up."

  "I've heard nothing more about demobilisation," said Wakefield. "Soit's not that."

  "Who said there was nothing wrong?" inquired Cumberleigh, pointingwith outstretched arm towards the German vessels. "They've hoistedtheir ensigns."

  "So they have, by Jove!" exclaimed Meredith. "What does it mean?Surely the Peace Conference blokes haven't restored the ships toGermany? Wakefield, look! Germans have hoisted their colours."

  Somewhere in the grey distance came the report of a gun, followed byanother. A British destroyer was taking drastic measures to deal withthe flagrant breach of Beatty's peremptory order.

  "Whack her up!" ordered Meredith through the voice-tube. "All out."

  The motor mechanics responded smartly. M.L. 1497 simply tore throughthe water.

  "They're sinking!" exclaimed Cumberleigh. "Every one of them. Thedirty dogs: they're scuttling the fleet!"

  There was no doubt about it. Already seven destroyers were awash. Thelarger vessels were heeling with distinct rapidity. The giant_Hindenburg_ was practically on her beam ends, while her meagre crew,prepared for the consequences of the dastardly act, had already takento the boats and were watching the mammoth vessel in herdeath-throes.

  Close by, the _Seidlitz, Derfflinger_ and other Hun battle-cruiserswere going down with flying colo
urs, not gloriously in the heat ofbattle but ignominiously scuttled by their crews. Further on the_Bayern_, the most powerful battleship of the German navy, wascapsizing. With a loud crash her heavy guns in superimposed turretsburst from their armoured bases. For a while the vessel's list waschecked, until, under the action of the terrific inrush of waterthrough her open sea-cocks, she lay completely over on her beam ends.Then, still heeling, her barnacle-covered bottom and bilge-keelshowed above a smother of foam, like the back of an enormous whale.The next instant she had disappeared.

  Already the crews of the M.L.'s 1497 and 1499 were at actionstations. On his part Kenneth Meredith realised that he could donothing to save the larger ships. There might be a chance ofpreventing the foundering of some of the Hun destroyers, and he meantto try.

  Passing astern of the line of sinking battle-cruisers, Kenneth madestraight for a large destroyer of the V-class that for some unknownreason was settling down slower than her consorts.

  His course lay close to three or four boats manned by German officersand bluejackets, who viewed the rapidly-moving M.L.'s withconsiderable apprehension. Possibly they expected a few shells fromthe patrol boats' quick-firers. Up went their hands above theirheads, and the now monotonous cry of "Kamerad!" rose from the cravencrews.

  Paying no heed to the boats, although the "wash" from the M.L. gavethe finishing touch to the "wind up" stunt, Kenneth brought hiscommand alongside the destroyer. Her crew were still on board, butwere preparing to take to the boats.

  With levelled revolver Kenneth climbed over the destroyer's rail andcovered the unter-leutnant in charge.

  "Have those sea-cocks closed instantly!" he ordered.

  For a moment the Hun hesitated, but the stern face and set jaw of theEnglishman gave him warning that delay meant trouble. He turned andgave a hurried order to some of the men. They hurried below, while tomake sure that they would reclose the valves Kenneth ordered thehatches to be secured until the work was properly done.

  Meanwhile two of the M.L.'s crew were at work for'ard, knocking outthe Senhouse slip, and thus freeing the vessel from her mooring.

  "All clear, sir!" shouted one of the hands.

  Returning to the M.L., Meredith ordered "Easy ahead, starboardengine."

  Still lashed alongside, No. 1497 had a stiff task to tow the partlyflooded Hun, but gradually the two vessels gathered way. The nearestshoal water was a bare two cables' length away, and great wasMeredith's delight when he heard the destroyer's forefoot grate onthe hard bottom.

  "She'll do: tide's falling," he observed. "Get those Huns out of it,Cumberleigh. Order them to embark in their own boat and row ashore.We may be in time to save another.... By Jove! I'll collar thatensign as a souvenir."

  Although Cumberleigh boosted the Huns pretty severely, there wasconsiderable delay before M.L. 1497 could cast off. It was evidentthat she had reached her limit in the salvage line. The Hun vesselswere nearly all gone. A few had been beached through the promptaction of the British patrol and harbour service vessels. By the timeMeredith gave the order for "Easy astern," the vast anchorage,crowded a brief half-hour previously, was now bare save for smallcraft and boats laden with Germans, who, now that their act ofmelodramatic bravado was accomplished, were wondering what the resultof their gross breach of faith would entail.

  There was flotsam everywhere. The water was covered with oil andwreckage, and the M.L.'s and other craft had to exercise greatcaution lest their propellers should foul the drifting planks andspars as they cruised round, shepherding the Huns to a place of safecustody.

  "By Jove! Look!" exclaimed Kenneth, calling Cumberleigh's attentionto a large circular mass of foliage.

  "Looks like a wreath," observed the R.A.F. officer.

  "Exactly," agreed Meredith. "There were dozens of them on board the_Hohenhoorn_. The blighters said they were for an officer'sfuneral--a ship's funeral, if you like. And there's another one."

  There were, in fact, scores, each wreath entwined with red, white andblack ribbons and bearing the name of the ship on which it had beenplaced when the act of scuttling was performed--a circumstance whichtends to prove that the violation of the Armistice terms had beenconnived at by the existing German government.

  "Who's that semaphoring?" asked Cumberleigh, indicating a steampinnace about three hundred yards away, in the stern-sheets of whicha bluejacket was waving a pair of hand-flags.

  Kenneth levelled his glasses. Simultaneously one of the M.L.'s crewprepared to receive the message.

  "It's Geordie Morpeth," exclaimed Meredith. "His old packet's brokendown and he's getting his signalman to ask us for a tow."

  "Will--you--come--alongside?" read out the receiving signalman. "Theydon't give a reason, sir," he added; "but it looks as if they'vefouled some wreckage."

  Very cautiously M.L. 1497 approached the apparently disabled steampinnace.

  "Ahoy, there!" shouted Kenneth. "What's wrong?"

  Morpeth swung his arm in the direction astern.

  "We've got some one in tow," he replied. "I knew Captain Cumberleighwas aboard you, and he might be interested."

  Sitting on the engine-room casing were half a dozen Germans,including an unter-leutnant, all dripping wet and looking thoroughlydejected.

  "Just lugged 'em out of the ditch," remarked Morpeth, stating whatwas an obvious fact. "But that's not what I hailed you for. Just lookaft."

  What had appeared to be at first sight a tangle of debris caught inthe steam pinnace's propeller was one of the German funeral wreaths.In the centre was the body of a man, his feet secured to thestern-sheets by means of a running bowline.

  "Good heavens!" exclaimed Cumberleigh. "It's von Preussen."

  "And as dead as a door-nail," added Morpeth. "I had an account tosettle with him, too; but it's wiped out now. No; it wasn't mydoings. One of their boats got swamped, so I went to the rescue.There was von Preussen hanging on to a life-buoy and looking aspleased as a dog with two tails--gloating over his share in the dirtywork, I suppose. We weren't more than twenty yards off when there wasan explosion--compressed air, you know. Up came a jagged plank andheaved von Preussen almost clear of the water. Killed him in half ashake. And then one of these wreaths came up and floated alongside ofhim just as we were slipping a bowline round his feet."

  "Poor devil!" ejaculated Cumberleigh. "It's strange that he met hisfate that way. Sort of Nemesis."

  "Perhaps it was as well," added Meredith. "He would have been in apretty hole had he got ashore."

  "Rather," agreed Morpeth. "Every Fritz, officer and man, is beingshoved under arrest. Old von Reuter, the Admiral, is collared too.There's one thing: the Allies can't squabble over the disposal of theHun Fleet now; so Fritz has unwittingly done us a good turn. Well,cheerio. I'll run my little lot of Huns across to the beach.Cheerful-looking cargo, eh?"

  Going dead slow, the steam pinnace headed towards the pier, thecorpse of the spy towing astern; while M.L. 1497 "carried on,"patrolling the land-locked waters upon which but a brief hour agofloated the fleet by which the German Emperor had hoped, and hoped invain, to obtain the domination of the world.