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A Lively Bit of the Front: A Tale of the New Zealand Rifles on the Western Front

Page 12

by Percy F. Westerman


  CHAPTER XII

  Running the Gauntlet

  "Land in sight!"

  The welcome announcement resulted in a rush on deck on the part ofthe motley throng of Anzacs, South Africans, English troops, andMaoris. Some men eager for a glimpse of the country of their birth,which they had not seen for many a long-drawn month of campaigningin the inhospitable waste of Mesopotamia; others for the first sightof the Mother Country; others out of mere curiosity; while theMaoris peered through the dim light to feast upon the prospects ofspeedily setting foot on dry land.

  It was not much to look at, judged from a strictly optical point ofview. Merely a slender lighthouse, rearing itself itself out of thesea, while miles beyond it, and just visible against the pale rosytints of dawn, was a line of dark-grey cliffs, backed by higherground that was totally destitute of trees.

  The _Pomfret Castle_ and the rest of the convoy had slowed down inthe vicinity of the Wolf Rock Lighthouse. The attendant cruiser wascircling round at top speed, as if to shepherd her flock beforeentrusting them to the care of another. Against the line of cliffscould be discerned a haze of smoke, Out of which appeared a numberof indistinct dots that quickly resolved themselves into a flotillaof destroyers.

  In double-column line ahead the greyhounds of the sea tore to meetthe approaching troopships, then, at a signal from the seniorofficer, the destroyers "broke line", tearing hither and thitherseemingly without order or reason--zigzagging, pirouetting, andcrossing each others' bows as if participating in an intricatemaritime dance.

  "Putting the wind up any blessed U-boat that might be wanting tobutt in," exclaimed Kennedy. "Hallo! There's our cruiser off. She'sdone with us."

  The transports dipped ensigns; the cruiser returned the complimentin a similar manner as she swung round and retraced her course. Hermission accomplished, she set off on particular service to escortanother convoy from somewhere to somewhere else, while thedestroyers closed round the _Pomfret Castle_ and her consorts as ifto welcome them into port.

  For the most part the men ignored the call to breakfast. They had adifferent feast on hand--to feast their eyes upon the varyingoutlines of the rugged Cornish coast; for as the distance decreasedthe monotonous aspect gave place to one of intense interest.

  "There's Rame Head," exclaimed a delighted Tommy. "Many a time I'vestood on top of it. I was born an' bred at Cawsand," he added,gratuitously. "Just round the corner you'll see Plymouth."

  "I've seen it three times before," remarked another--the inevitablegrouser of the company; "and, every time it's been raining cats anddogs. Proper wet 'ole, I calls it."

  "Let it, and a jolly good job too," rejoined the first speaker."After Mesopotamia you won't hear men grumbling about rain--not'arf. It can rain every day in the year, an' good luck to it."

  "Just you wait till you gets ter France," chipped in another. "Up toyer neck in mud an' slush. You'll jolly soon wish yourself grillingagain."

  "You've turned your back on Mesopotamia, boys," exclaimed thelicensed jester of the company. "Now you've the Mess-up-at-homia,an' so make the best of it. Blimy, wot's this comin'; a bloomin'Zeppelin!"

  "Where?" exclaimed a dozen voices.

  Following the direction of the speaker's outstretched hand Malcolmhad his first view of an airship. It was not a large craft asairships go. Underneath its silver-grey envelope hung a small carlike the fuselage of an aeroplane. As it approached, the whirringcircle of a single, two-bladed propeller could be discerned. It wasa "Blimp", or dirigible observation balloon.

  The airship was flying rapidly "down wind" at an altitude of abouttwo hundred feet. As it passed almost overhead the fuselage appearedto scrape the _Pomfret Castle's_ main truck by inches. Presently theBlimp swung round and faced the wind, keeping on a course slightlydiverging from that of the convoy. Plugging away dead in the eye ofthe wind its progress was not more than twenty miles an hour "overthe ground", which in reality was a portion of the English Channel.

  Suddenly the _Pomfret Castle_ starboarded helm and broke out ofline. The alteration of course had the effect of causing the hugevessel to list outwards. As she did so a long trail of foam almostparallel to the starboard side of the ship shot ahead until it waslost to sight in the distance.

  For some moments not a single man moved. Attention had been shiftedfrom the Blimp to the milk-white track in the water--the wake of thetorpedo.

  Only by prompt use of her helm had the _Pomfret Castle_ escapeddestruction. Even in home waters she had to run the gauntlet,despite the encircling line of destroyers.

  With the utmost audacity a U-boat had lain submerged across thetrack of the convoy, trusting to be able to launch her bolt anddisappear before even the swift destroyers could take her bearings,and close upon the spot where the tips of her periscopes hadappeared when the torpedo had been discharged.

  She had seen the escorting vessels and had taken the risk, but shehad reckoned without the far-seeing eyes of the Blimp.

  Already the airship had spotted a dark elongated shape beneath thewaves. Invisible when viewed at a narrow angle to the surface, thesubmarine stood out clearly against the grey waste of waters whenseen from above.

  Something, glittering in the dull light, shot from beneath thefuselage of the alert Blimp. With a mighty splash the missile struckthe surface of the sea and disappeared.

  For five long-drawn seconds nothing appeared to happen. Unseen bythe watchers on the troop-ship, a deadly aerial torpedo was wormingits way through the water until it reached a depth of sixty feet.

  Before the spray cast up by the impact of the missile had subsided,another and far greater column of water leapt a hundred feet or moreinto the air. A cloud of smoke hid the Blimp from view, while, outof the breaking spout of upheaved water, appeared a solid, dark-greysubstance--the after part of a U-boat!

  For a brief instant the wreckage was revealed to view. Even thehorizontal and vertical rudders and the twin propellers werevisible. Then, as if reluctant to sink into obscurity, the strafedU-boat disappeared from mortal ken for all time.

  No need for the destroyers to tear at full speed across theever-widening circle of oil; no need for explosive grapnels to trailover the downward path of the vertically-descending pirate craft.The diabolical _Spurlos versenkt_ policy had recoiled with avengeance upon yet another of the Kaiser's _Unterseebooten_.

  A hoarse roar of cheering broke from the throats of the men.Tommies, Anzacs, South Africans, and Maoris vied with each other asto who could produce the greatest and most prolonged volume Ofsound. Other vessels of the convoy took up the hearty "Hip, hip,hurrah!" until the watchers on the distant Cornish cliffs must haveheard the strenuous demonstrations of exultation.

  Meanwhile the destroyers, their crews grimly silent, merely "carriedon". The men whose lives they were guarding might well letthemselves go, but these units of the great silent navy meantbusiness. Time for shouting when the German navy ceased to exist asa fighting force--and "The Day" was yet to come.

  The Blimp, also scorning to display any indications of itstriumphant success, turned and flew serenely over the convoy,outwardly indifferent to the work of destruction it hadaccomplished. Not until the last of the convoy passed the westernend of the breakwater, and gained the security of Plymouth Sound,did the modern counterpart of the

  "Little cherub that sits up aloft, To keep guard o'er the life of poor Jack"

  relinquish its task. Then, amid a farewell outburst of cheering, theBlimp flew eastwards, to disappear from view behind the loftyStaddon Heights.

 

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