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diff --git a/34190.txt b/34190.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aab329c --- /dev/null +++ b/34190.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6168 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of H.M.S. ----, by Klaxon + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: H.M.S. ---- + +Author: Klaxon + +Release Date: November 1, 2010 [EBook #34190] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK H.M.S. ---- *** + + + + +Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Brian Foley and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + H.M.S. ---- + + BY + KLAXON + + William Blackwood and Sons + Edinburgh and London + 1918 + + _ALL RIGHTS RESERVED_ + + + + +_TO + +D. V. B._ + + + When Homer launched his epic on the literary sea, + The critics were as merciful as they can ever be: + "We take it that the author did the best that he can do," + "And the book should be remembered for at least a year or two...." + But Homer let the critics go, and listened with a smile, + For he had heard a verdict that was better by a mile, + In a code that only Homer as a husband understood,-- + "You _are_ a funny clever thing--I'd no _idea_ you could." + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + + "1923" 1 + + PRIVILEGED 18 + + ACCORDING TO THEIR LIGHTS 22 + + A NAVAL DISCUSSION 32 + + THE GUNLAYER 42 + + A WAGE SLAVE 54 + + AN "ANNUAL" 61 + + "OUR ANNUAL" 68 + + MASCOTS 70 + + THE SPARROW 73 + + A WAR WEDDING 80 + + A HYMN OF DISGUST 94 + + THE "SPECIAL" 98 + + BETWEEN TIDES 106 + + LIGHT CAVALRY 116 + + A TRINITY 139 + + IN THE MORNING 144 + + AN AFFAIR OF OUTPOSTS 147 + + 1917 155 + + IN FORTY WEST 169 + + A RING AXIOM 171 + + CHANCES 173 + + THE QUARTERMASTER 185 + + A LANDFALL 188 + + NIGHT ROUNDS 195 + + IN THE BARRED ZONE 201 + + A MATTER OF ROUTINE 204 + + WHO CARES? 211 + + THE UNCHANGING SEX 213 + + TWO CHILDREN 216 + + AN URGENT COURTSHIP 234 + + LOOKING AFT 254 + + GRIT 258 + + A MAXIM 270 + + FROM A FAR COUNTRY 272 + + THE CRISIS 279 + + A SEA CHANTY 281 + + THE WAR OF ATTRITION 284 + + THROUGH AN ADMIRALTY WINDOW 303 + + A MOST UNTRUE STORY 318 + + + + +H.M.S. ----. + + + + +"1923." + + [The following is the description by Professor J. Scott, F.R.S., + of his recent Airship Journey across the old Bed of the North + Sea. July 1, 1923.] + + +It is perhaps unnecessary for me to state the objects and purpose of +my journey of last week, as it would be false modesty in me not to +recognise the great interest taken by the geologic and antiquarian +worlds in my proposed enterprise. For the benefit, however, of those +for whose intelligence the so-called "Popular" geologic works are +compiled, I will recapitulate some points which are ancient history to +my instructed readers. + +The winter of 1922 witnessed the greatest geologic change in the +earth's surface since the last of the Glacial epochs. Into the causes +and general results of this change I do not propose to enter, beyond +mentioning my opinion that the theory propounded by Professor +Middleton (a theory designed only for one purpose--that of attempting +to throw doubt on the data and reasoning of my first monograph on the +subject) is not only childish, but based on a fallacy. + +I will confine myself to the results as they affected this country and +the continent of Europe, of which it is now a prolongation or +headland--not, as the Daily Press erroneously labels it, a peninsula. + +The total change in elevation of the land is now calculated at 490 +feet 7 inches, but more accurate measurements are still being taken. +This great change brings us back to a geologic age when man and +mammoth co-existed in the primeval forest of Cromer, and when the +Dogger Bank was a great plain where wild beasts roamed and palaeolithic +man left the traces of his industry in the bones and shaped flints +which we hope soon to collect in quantities from the mud and ooze with +which thousands of years of sea-action has covered them. + +I had little difficulty in obtaining Admiralty permission to accompany +the Captain of a Naval Airship on one of his regular patrol trips +across the great expanse of mud which was once the North Sea. + +Of course in the six months since the departure of the Ocean from the +new lands, the district has been regularly patrolled by the Navy, but +the air is as yet the only safe route by which to cross it. It will be +some time, perhaps years, before the surface becomes safe to walk on, +although the Government is plentifully sprinkling grass and other +seeds from all passing aircraft. In the large and powerful airship in +which I was privileged to travel, we had every modern device for +enabling a close inspection of the surface to be taken. A trail-rope +was used when it was desired to drift slowly or to actually hover over +some of the points of interest which we observed on our passage. + +The day was fine and clear, and I could not have wished for better +weather conditions when we rose over Dover and started the main +engines on a north-easterly course. As no maps can yet be compiled of +the New Lands (as popular clamour has most inaccurately labelled them) +owing to their dangerous surface, we navigated by the old Admiralty +charts, marked in depths of water, and I was amused at having the +Varne and Goodwin "shoals" pointed out to me--the objects indicated +being long ridges of sandy hills rising from the shining surface of +the Channel bed. Off Deal and Dover a few of the wrecks are being +worked on by enterprising local Salvage Companies--a road being laid +out to each composed of gravel, sand, and brushwood. I fear, however, +that the speculators will not profit greatly. The roads are good +enough over the sand, but where they cross the mud-flats they swallow +not only their traffic but the funds of their owners. + +As we travelled up the valley with the drone of our engines echoing +from the whale-backed ridges on either side, with our gondolas barely +a hundred feet from the ground, I discussed our programme with the +Captain, whose views and reminiscences I found most entertaining. On +general subjects he was like most of his service, almost contemptibly +uneducated (I might mention that he did not understand what +Magdalenian culture was!), but he was evidently well read in his own +trade. He told me several stories which were no doubt excellent, but +which were marred to a point of incomprehensibility by a foolish +interlarding of technical terms. I gave him a short precis of what is +known or deduced of prehistoric life on the New Lands, and spoke of +the bones and fossils occasionally found in trawl-nets by the +fishermen. His point of view was that the war overshadowed everything. +He seemed to think that that event was one from which all others +should date, although it had lasted such a short time. As very little +of interest to me could yet be seen owing to the general coating of +slime with which the land was covered, I amused myself by listening to +his experiences on his weekly air patrols, his conversation being +somewhat after this style:-- + +"Yes, it was a fair snorter while it lasted--that gale,--damn lucky we +hadn't many ships out. Yes, most of 'em got in. They either ran down +Channel (Lord! the Straits were like opening the caisson gates to a +graving-dock!) and made New Queenstown, or else they got into harbour on +the East Coast and stranded there. You see, what with mines and wrecks, +the North Sea wasn't being used much, and as the navies were taking a +rest there wasn't much of value at sea. Some ships got stuck +though--fishing boats mostly. No, they were all right--it took a week to +drain off, and it was calm weather when they grounded. Most of them have +wireless now, and they yelped for help, and we took 'em off. Those that +hadn't were a bit hungry when we found them, but I don't think we lost +many. You see, all nations sent air fleets out. Have you read the U.S. +Magazine? You ought to; there's a damn good argument going on as to +whether it would have paid us or Germany most if it had happened during +the war. I think us, myself. You see, there's only a narrow channel now +running past the Norwegian coast, and we could have mined that. Look at +that, Professor! How's that for mines? That's Zeebrugge with the houses +showing over the sand-hills. Whose? Oh! both sides put 'em there--that +hollow to the east is proper stiff with them, isn't it? Port +fifteen--Quartermaster! steer east--What? No, just going to show you +something. You said it seemed a wicked waste of material; well, look +over there--two of them got it. One's a U.C. boat but the other's a big +one. They picked them up coming back, and that big chap's nearly in two +halves--Starboard twenty, Quartermaster! No, we needn't go closer, +you'll see one every half mile between here and Heligoland--some of ours +as well as theirs. Yes--that's a Dutchman--torpedoed by the look of +him. See the hole in the stern? Oh, butter and bacon and that sort of +thing! No, nobody in her. Why? Well, look at the davits--they left her +before she sank--all the boats are gone. + +"Like these glasses? That's the _Hinder_ over there. Yes, they still +live in her, and she's still useful. A fine big lightship, isn't she? +She settled down at her moorings as peacefully as could be, and when +we sent a line down to them on our first patrol trip after the show, +they sent up a note asking for some 'baccy, and would we post some +letters for them? Nothing ever did worry the _Hinder_ in the war, and +it won't now. You see, English and German used to fight under her tail +every other night, and as she was an international light she just +flashed away and looked on. I wonder none of their crew have written a +book yet--'Battles round the _Hinder_,' by an Eyewitness. It would be +better than most of the truck that has been written in England about +it. Yes, she lies in a bit of a hollow, but the light shows up all +right, and that's all we want. Here you are; this is what you wanted." + +We had reached the first object of interest in my journey. More +trail-rope was paid out, and we swung with our engine stopped, downwind, +lying twenty feet above a great pit torn in the earth by some tremendous +explosion. All around the pit-mouth lay masses of earth and rock, and +the face of the crater was thick with bone-breccia and fossils of every +kind. The explosion had occurred over an old beach on the bank of what +had once been the old Channel River. For thousands of years prehistoric +men and beasts had lived and died there, and had left their skeletons to +enlighten us. And more than bones had been left. Almost the first +basket-load that our light electric "grab" produced for us contained +among its numerous specimens of surpassing interest a rough "hand-axe" +of dark flint, possibly of Pre-Chellean culture. However, the whole of +my notes and specimens obtained on this visit are now being examined +and classified, and I will postpone description of them until the +meeting of the Society on the 18th. + +I would have liked to have descended into the pit by a ladder or other +means, but was dissuaded, partly by the motion of the airship, which +swayed to and fro in the light wind, and partly by the blunt negative +with which my suggestion was greeted by the Captain. We took only +three baskets of specimens from this spot, as we had others to visit, +and our carrying capacity was limited. As we slowly hauled in the +trail-rope and prepared to continue our journey, I asked the Captain +whether this crater had been intentionally formed by the Government +for purposes of research, or whether it had been produced accidentally +in the late war. + +"Accident?" he said. "Well, no, hardly that--but still, I expect he +_thought_ he might pull it off without doing himself in." He pointed +to one of two big submarines which lay on opposite sides of the +crater. The one indicated was the smaller of the two, and the least +damaged. She lay upright with a slight tilt up by the bow (which was +dented and torn rather badly). The other was in two halves, and lay on +her side with a mound of earth, bones, and rock, making a sort of +rough junction between the halves. The two submarines looked like +great guardians of the pit, and I wondered at the madness of man that +makes him revel in war and killing to no purpose. I mentioned +something of this thought to the Captain, who was still gazing at the +more intact of the two boats, and tapping a flint "Coup de poing" on +the side of our gondola. + +"Well, Professor," he said, "the man who made this tool didn't make it +to clean his nails with, did he?" I observed that it was now generally +agreed that most of prehistoric man's weapons were for use against his +greatest foes--which were wild beasts, and not men. The Captain jerked +the flint implement back into the basket. + +"My oath! you've said it," he snapped. "_We've_ been fighting wild +beasts, and that chap in the smaller boat was a friend of mine. He +took that Fritz fairly amidships with his stem, but he couldn't get +free, and they went down locked. When Fritz hit bottom his mines went, +and that blew them apart, and so there's your bone pit, Professor." + +I looked back at the pit and the two hulks beside it, now dwindling +astern. "How do you know all that?" I asked. + +"Read his number on the conning-tower for one thing, and the chap who +had that boat would be pretty sure to take a Hun with him when he had to +go. The rest? Well, his bows are bashed in, you see, and his lid is +still open, so he gave Fritz his bow first on the surface. You may have +some relics of curious beasts in that basket, Professor, but I can show +you a relic, or a hundred if you like, of a damn sight nastier beast. +See the masts over that mudbank? That's a Dutch liner--two torpedoes and +no warning. Full of women too. Like to go and look? I thought not. Yes, +Professor, I can show you two hundred sunken ships in a few hours' run +here, and they haven't all got their davits empty by a long chalk. Never +mind--here's something more amusing." + +Our engine slowed and almost stopped while we drifted across a flat, +broad, muddy plateau which sloped away to a valley on each side. + +"See those lines?" said my abrupt naval friend--"those long straight +scores along the mud, I mean. Those are where the submarines--ours and +theirs--have been taking bottom for a rest. Taking bottom? Oh! on +winter nights, when it's too dark to see or when they're waiting for +anything, or got defects or struck fog, you know. They used to take +bottom a lot here, because it's good surface and they had twenty +fathom of water, too. The marks haven't washed out yet. See this one? +He bumped three times before he settled: he must have had a lot of +headway on--his track's all of half a mile. That bed is where he +settled for the night. It's soft there, and he worked in over his +bilge keel. There's another, fifty yards off him. Of course it was +probably made a year before or after he made his, but there must have +been cases when our boats and Fritz's lay that much apart all night +and didn't know it. Pretty queer idea, isn't it? Perhaps a banjo +strumming in one boat and a gramophone going in the other. Oh yes, +they used to have concerts on the bottom before turning in! One of our +chaps gave me a programme once. There were twenty items in it, and it +was headed 'C/o G.P.O.--126 feet.' This was a regular submarine +traffic lane for both sides. Some parts of the surface up north aren't +marked at all,--it was either too deep water or there were too many +mines about. Funny thing is, that some of the areas which both sides +seem to have studiously gone round and avoided have no mines at all in +them. Just rumour, I suppose. They gave the place a bad name and +damned it. Eh? No--that's all right--tip 'em out on the deck--we can +scrub the place out when we get in." + +He spoke to a sailor, who stepped forward and turned the nearest +basket of specimens upside down. As he did so, something rolled from +the heap to my feet, and with a thrill which could only be understood +by my brother scientists I gazed on the greatest archaeological +discovery of the ages. I have already announced my discovery to the +press, and the scientists of all nations are now gathering in London +to inspect it, so I shall not enter now on a detailed description. I +may say that my first thought was that I had in my hands a copy of my +confrere Keith's reconstruction of the Piltdown skull, and that my own +reconstruction had been to a certain extent false; but on mature +reflection I decided that this could not be so, and that I must +classify my find as belonging to a hitherto unknown branch of the race +of Homo Sapiens--akin to, but yet distinct from, Eoanthropus. This +prehistoric man I have called Homo Scoticanthropus, and my full report +and conclusions will be shortly before the Society. + +The skull is intact and requires no reconstruction. The lower mandible +is of the chimpanzee-like type found with Eoanthropus, and as it was +picked up by the same basket, must undoubtedly belong to the skull. + +As to the remainder of our voyage, I can only say that I spent the time +on the floor of the gondola measuring and inspecting my find. I could +not tear myself away from it, and we therefore omitted our visits to +other spots where explosions were known to have occurred near the old +sea-bed, confining ourselves to a hurried round of the Naval patrol +route. Beyond a casual inspection and a remark that it looked like +Hindenburg, the airship captain took no interest in this now famous +skull, but confined himself to his duties of navigation and control. + +It is unfortunate that the exact depth and geological strata of the +skull's position cannot be given. The basket was drawn from the bottom +of the pit, but the skull may have been either thrown up by the +explosion or rolled down later by the action of the tides. + +When the new lands have dried we hope to have a careful inspection of +that and other pits, when more and perhaps equally valuable +discoveries may be made. + +I have perhaps made undue mention of my naval friend in this pamphlet, +but to tell the truth his type was new to me. Though, like all his +fellow-officers, his limited education had tended to make him +narrow-minded, he nevertheless deserves mention here as having assisted, +albeit in a humble way, in the most wonderful discovery in history. + + + + +PRIVILEGED. + + + They called across to Peter at the changing of the Guard, + At the red-gold Doors that the Angels keep,-- + "Lend us help to the Portal, for they press upon us hard, + They are straining at the Gate, many deep." + + Then Peter rose and went to the wicket by the Wall, + Where the Starlight flashed upon the crowd; + And he saw a mighty wave from the Greatest Gale of all + Break beneath him with a roar, swelling loud-- + + _Let us in! Let us in! We have left a load of sin + On the battlefield that flashes far below. + From the trenches or the sea--there's a pass for such as we, + For we died with our faces to the foe._ + + "_We haven't any creed--for we never felt the need,-- + And our morals are as ragged as can be; + But we finished in a way that has cleared us of the clay, + And we're coming to you clean, as you can see._" + + Then Peter looked below him with a smile upon his lips, + And he answered, "Ye are fighters, as I know + By your badges of the air, of the trenches, and the ships, + And the wounds that on your bodies glisten so." + + And he looked upon the wounds, that were many and were grim, + And his glance was all-embracing--unafraid; + And he looked to meet the eyes that were smiling up to him, + All a-level as a new-forged blade. + + "Ye are savage men and rough--from the fo'c'sle and the tent; + Ye have put High Heaven to alarm; + But I see it written clear by the road ye went, + That ye held by the Fifteenth Psalm." + + And they shouted in return, "_'Tis a thing we've never read, + But you passed our friends inside + That won to the end of the road we tread + Long ago when the Mons Men died._" + + "_Let us in! Let us in! We have fallen for the Right, + And the Crown that we listed to win, + That we earned by the Somme or the waters of the Bight; + You're a fighting man yourself--Let us in!_" + + Then Peter gave a sign and the Gates flung wide + To the sound of a bugle-call: + "Pass the fighting men to the ranks inside, + Who came from the earth or the cold grey tide, + With their heads held high and a soldier's stride, + To a Friend in the Judgment Hall." + + + + +ACCORDING TO THEIR LIGHTS. + + +The world was a streak of green and white bubbles, and there was a +great roaring noise which disturbed his thoughts. "Boots--boots--I +must get them off." He remembered the only occasion on which he had +experienced an anaesthetic, the mental struggle to retain his ego, and +the loss of will-power he had known at every breath. He was going down +now, the roaring was less terrible and he felt very tired. A check in +his descent and a little voice at the back of his brain: "There was a +big sea running." Then a blur of white foam and a long gasping breath. +Something rasped his forehead and a rough serge sleeve was across his +throat. He fought feebly to keep the choking arm away, but as they +rose on the crest of a long blue-green swell, he was jerked from the +water by the neck and the belt of his overcoat. His first clear +sensation was one of intense chill. Although there was little wind, it +was cold in the air. He raised his head and moved to avoid the +uncomfortable pressure of something on his chest. As he saw his +situation he dropped his head again quickly and lay still. He was +across the keel of a broad grey boat which pitched and heaved at +terrifying angles as the seas passed. He crawled cautiously round, +pivoting on his stomach till his legs straddled the keel and he had a +grip on it with his hands under his chin. Facing him in a similar +attitude was a seaman he knew, a tall brawny torpedoman whom he had +noticed rigging the lights in the Wardroom flat on occasions when +Evening Service had been held there. What was his name--Davies? Denny? +No, Dunn! of course--the ship's boxer, and the funny man at the +concerts. Were they two all that was left? He opened his mouth and +gasped a little before speaking. + +"All right, sir--take it easy--I've been off this billet twice, and +it's no joke getting back to it. Good thing you're a light weight, +sir, or you'd've pulled me in just now." + +"Are there--are there any more, Dunn?" + +"God knows, sir--beggin' your pardon, that is--the mine got us forr'd +and the magazine went. This is the pinnace we're on, and it's the +biggest bit of the ship I've seen floating yet." + +"Good God! Where were you?" + +"On the bridge, sir, just sent for by the Officer of the Watch about +the telephones; but I'm--I don't know 'ow I got away, sir--flew, I +reckon. Where were you, sir?" + +"Coming up the Wardroom ladder, and as I got on deck I was washed +away. Dunn! do you think we'll be picked up?" + +The seaman raised his head and shoulders cautiously and took a rapid +glance around as they topped a sea, then resumed his attitude along +the keel, his chin on his crossed wrists. "You're a parson, sir," he +said, "and you're ready for it, so I'll tell you. We were on detached +duty, and there mayn't be another ship here for a week yet." + +"A week! But, man, a merchant ship or fisherman might pass any time." + +"A fisherman might, sir; but I never saw a merchantman since we came +on this trip, and I don't see anything now." + +There was a pause, and the padre shivered in his thin wet clothes. +"The sea was going down this morning; how long do you think we could +stay alive on this?" + +"That's the trouble, sir. This is the pinnace, and she's stove in a bit." + +"Do you mean she'll sink? But they float when they are waterlogged, +don't they?" + +"Not this one, she won't, and she's got the launch's slings in her +too--half an hour I give her; but you're right, sir; the sea's going +down, and I'm keeping a watch out for more wreckage if it goes by, sir." + +The shivering-fit passed and he tried to collect his thoughts. Yes, +the pinnace _had_ settled a bit since he had been dragged aboard. She +did not lift so easily to the sea, and had lost the tendency to +broach-to which had made him grip the keel so tightly at first. He was +quite calm now, and everything seemed much more simple. Half an hour! +He lowered his forehead to his hands and his thoughts raced. What had +he left undone? Yes, the ship was gone, so he had nothing to think of +in connection with her. As Dunn would say, his affairs in her were all +"clewed up" by her loss. But ashore, now--ah! For a full minute he +fought with his panic. He felt a rage against a fate that was blindly +killing him when he had so much more of life to enjoy. He wanted to +scream like a trapped rabbit. He felt his eyes wet with tears of +self-pity, and at the feeling his sense of humour returned. He thought +of himself as a child about to be smacked, and when he raised his head +he was smiling into Dunn's eyes. "Half an hour is not long, Dunn," he +said, "but it is longer than our friends had." + +Dunn took another swift glance to right and left, then, reaching a +hand cautiously into his jumper, pulled out a wet and shiny briar +pipe, and began to reflectively chew the mouthpiece. + +He was a young _padre_, but he had been in the Service most of the +war. He knew enough to choose his words with care as he spoke again. + +"Dunn," he said, "we haven't got long. I am going to pray." + +"Yessir," said the bony, red face before him. + +He tried again. "Dunn, you're Church of England, aren't you?" + +"Yessir. On the books I am, sir." + +"You mean you have no religion?" + +Dunn blew hard into the bowl of his pipe and replaced the mouthpiece +between his jagged teeth. "Not that sort quite, sir--but I'm all +right, sir." + +The _padre_ moved a little bit nearer along the keel. The pinnace was +certainly deep in the water now, but his mind was at ease and he did +not feel the cold. "Listen, Dunn," he said; "I am going to pray--I +want you to repeat what I say after me." + +Dunn moved his hands from under his chin and took his pipe from his +mouth. "Yessir," he said. + +The _padre_ paused a moment and looked at the long blue slope of a sea +rising above his eyes. He wondered vaguely why he was not feeling +sea-sick. "O God, Who made the sea and all that therein is, have mercy +on us Thy servants called to-day to Thy judgment-seat. Pardon us the +manifold sins we have committed, and lead us to a true repentance; and +to us, who have in the past neglected Thee in our hearts, send light +and strength that we may come without fear before Thy throne. Have +pity, O Lord, upon those who are made widows and orphans this day. +Grant to our country final victory and Thy peace. Amen." + +The sun was behind clouds now, and the seas were washing occasionally +along the sinking boat. + +"You did not join me in the prayer, Dunn," he said. "Was it not within +the scheme of your religion?" + +Dunn put his pipe carefully back in his jumper and took a firmer grip +of the keel. "Yes, sir," he said, "it was--but I don't whine when I'm +down." + +"Do you mean I was whining, Dunn?" + +"No, sir, I don't. You've always prayed and you're not going back on +anything. I don't go much on Church, and God wouldn't think nothing of +me if I piped down now." + +The _padre_ was, as has been said, a young man, and being young he did +the right thing and waited for more. It came with a rush. + +"You see, sir, it's God this, and God that, and no one knows what God +is like, but I'm a Navy man and I think of Him my way. If I'm not +afraid to die I'm all right, I think, sir. It wasn't my fault the ship +sank, sir. I've always kept my job done, and I've got 'Exceptional' on +my parchment. When I joined up I took the chance of this, and I ain't +kicking now it's come. I reckon if a man plays the game by his +messmates, and fights clean in the ring, and takes a pride, like, in +his job--well, it ain't for me to say, but I don't think God'll do +much to me. He'll say, 'Jack,' He'll say, 'you've got a lot of things +against you here, but you ain't shirked your work and you aren't +afraid of Me--so pass in with a caution,' He'll say. You're all right, +sir, and it may be because you're a good Christian; but I reckon, sir, +it's because you know you've done your job and not skrimshanked it +that you ain't afraid, just the same as me.... Hold tight, +sir,--she'll not be long now." + +The _padre_ ducked his head as a swell passed, but the sea had no crest +now, the weather was certainly improving. "I don't say you're right," he +said, "but I haven't time to bring you to my way of thinking now." + +The pinnace began to stand on end with a gurgling and bubbling of air +from her bow. The two men slipped off on opposite sides, still holding +the rough splintery keel between them. + +"Listen, Dunn--repeat this after me: 'Please God, I have done my best, +and I'm not afraid to come to You.'" + +"'Please God, I've done my best, and I'm not afraid to come to You,' +sir. Good-bye, sir." + +"Thank you, Dunn--good-bye." + +The sunset lit up the slope of a sea that looked majestically down on +them, and flashed on something behind it. As they looked the wet grey +conning-tower of a submarine showed barely fifty yards away. The +startled sea pounded at her hull as she rose and grew, and a rush of +spray shook out the folds of a limp and draggled White Ensign that +hung from the after-stanchion of her bridge. + + + + +A NAVAL DISCUSSION. + + +The air was thick with smoke, and a half-circle of officers sat +clustered round the stove in the smoking-room. True--there was no fire +in the stove, but that did not count. A stove was a place you sat around +and jerked cigarette ash at, or, if you were long enough, rested your +heels on. The party consisted of six ship's officers and a guest. A few +feet away a Bridge-party was in progress. It was the usual Naval party, +and was composed of one man who could play, two who thought they could, +and one who had come in in response to urgent demands to "make up a +four," and who held no illusions about his own play or his partner's. +However, he argued well, which was a help. The game appeared to go in +spasms--a few minutes' peace punctuated only by subdued oaths, and then +a cross-fire of abuse and recriminations--usually opened by the fourth +player, who had somewhere learnt the wonderful feminine art of getting +in first accusation, and then dodging his opponents' salvoes behind a +smoke-screen of side-issues. + +The group by the stove were not in the least disturbed by the game +behind them. They had heard Naval Bridge played before, and knew that +it was only when the players became polite that trouble was in the +offing. The talk, as always, was of the War, and swung with startling +suddenness from one queer aspect to another. The Senior Engineer was +leaning back in his chair, his pipe between his teeth, listening to +the mixture of views and voices from either side of him. + +"What do they want this saluting order at all for? They're making +everybody salute everybody in London now, and they say it isn't safe +to walk down the Haymarket to the Admiralty, because the traffic +stands to attention for you." + +"All damn nonsense. There's too much saluting--that sort, I mean--and +there's too little of the other sort. Let's have an order that every +civilian must salute a wounded man, or a man with a wound stripe, and +then I'll take Provost-Marshal and see it done." + +"They'd chuck their hands in. They're all talking of Democracy now, +and a wounded man would count as a gilded autocrat." + +"Democracy, my foot! I know their sort of Democracy. It's like +Russia's special brand--do as you please, and make all you can for +yourself. A civilian's no good till he's a conscript or done his time +in the Territorials. If they want democracy they can come here. This +is the most democratic Service in the world." + +"But you can't run down civilians over this war; why--the whole Army's +civilian now. They haven't done so badly, though they had to wait for +war before they moved." + +"Whose fault was it they didn't help before? It wasn't ours. But +that's just what I'm saying. They're all right once they've been +drilled, but no damn good till they have been. We ought to put the +whole lot through a short course of drill and a week of trench work, +and let them go again." + +The guest's voice broke in--"You mean, I take it, that the people who +are going to make the peace are the people who have not yet learnt +discipline?" + +"Yes, sir--that's about it. They haven't learnt to think for their +side instead of their own private ends." + +"Call 'em politicians and have done with it, Pongo!" + +"Well, they are--aren't they? They get the politicians they like, and +they appoint men of their own sort, so they are all politicians really." + +"Well, I think that's being rather hard on them. They have to take the +men the party whips gave them. I think they're a poor lot, but I +wouldn't call them politicians." + +The guest moved uneasily. "I don't quite see your point," he said. "Is +the term 'politician' one of reproach or praise? I once stood for my +local constituency and----" + +The young officer with his heels on the stove gave a sudden snort. +"Don't you believe him, he's pulling your legs--so don't apologise. +He's no politician, anyway." + +The guest laughed. "Well, I'm not in politics now," he said. "What is +your definition of this strange animal?" + +There was a pause, and then a cautious reply, "Well, he's an M.P." + +"But I know some very charming M.P.'s--are they all politicians?" + +"Oh no, sir. They're different. It's a question of standards, really." + +"Ah, but what are the standards?" + +"Well, you see--we have one--and civilians have another, business +people and so on, and then there's the politicians." + +"You ought to write a dictionary, Pongo--you snub-nosed old shell-back. +No, I ain't scrapping, and if you get up I'll take your chair." + +"Whose got a cigarette? No, not one of your stinkers--gimme one of +yours, Guns." + +The officer addressed politely passed a cigarette across in his +fingers, and turning in his chair beckoned to a marine servant who was +just returning with an empty tray from the Bridge table. + +"A cigarette, please, waiter--and debit it to the account of my +honourable friend Mr Maugham, here. I'll stop your cadging, Pongo--if +I have to take on the tobacco accounts to do it." + +"Lucky there's no shortage of 'baccy, or all the armies would strike." + +"Well, that'd be one way to stop the war. You can't fight without it. +Wish we had some tobacco shares. Some people must be making a lot." + +"Not so much as the food people." + +"I don't believe the food people do make so much. It's the world +shortage that causes the trouble, not the prices--or rather one +involves the other." + +"It isn't so much that. It's a rise of prices all round. Things get +expensive, so the country strikes for higher wages and gets +them--then prices go up because the sovereign has depreciated, and +they strike again. It goes on in a vicious circle." + +"Can't be a circle--because that's progression. You've got to get to a +smash in time." + +"Yes, it means there'll be just as much cash in the world, but every +one will be poor. Cash isn't wealth--work is wealth, and all work +nowadays is wasted. We're chucking it into the air in Flanders." + +"Well, we'll last out this war, and then have to lash out." + +"Oh yes--there'll be room to lash out in, too. We'll be back in +Elizabeth's days--lots of room for every one, but no capital." + +"So long as there are no Huns we'll be happy, so what's the odds? Give +us a match." + +"Well, I want a few Huns left to compare notes with after this. It +would be dull to hear our own side only. One couldn't meet their Army, +of course, but their Navy's not so bad. They've tried to fight clean, +at any rate, and they fight good and 'earty. Yes, I know about Fritz, +but if you had orders to torpedo liners, wouldn't you do it? 'Course +you would, if you were told they were carrying munitions and you were +saving your country by it. There are Fritzes who _like_ it, certainly, +but we have to give the others the benefit of the doubt." + +"Well, I'd like to read their logs and so on after the war, though +we'll be so damn sick of all the truck they'll publish here when the +Censor pays off that we wont want to read much of anything." + +"It isn't the stuff just after the war one would like to read. I'd +like to be alive in a hundred years to read the truth." + +"Well, you wont be if you knock my drink over with your hairy +hoofs--sit still!" + +"It'd do you good if I did knock it over--your hoary-headed old rip. +Guns, do you think they'll have raised our pay in a hundred years' +time?" + +"I doubt it. They'll pay off the Navy and economise as soon as peace +is signed--" + +"--And we'll have another war on our hands inside six months--we +always do; we've always retrenched after a war, and then had to give +bonuses to get the men back inside a year." + +"Well, they'll pay off the battleships, anyway--and only keep the fast +cruisers and the submarines." + +"You and your submarines! Have you heard from your brother lately?" + +"Yes, he tells me if I'm going to join I've got to remember it's the +greatest honour to be--half a sec., I've got the letter here--to be +alive and able to get into the greatest and most efficient Service of +the Greatest Navy the world has ever seen, in the Greatest event in +History since the Moon broke off." + +There was a two seconds' silence (which is long for a Naval +discussion), then-- + +"Well, cutting out the swollen-headed tosh about the Greatest Service, +which I take it he means to refer to submarines, I don't know that +he's far wrong." + +"Well, I suppose we shall have our pasts and presents all looked up, +and that people at the U.S. Institution will argue about us like they +did a few years ago about Trafalgar." + +"No fear. They'll all be peaceful then, and we'll be barbarians, and +not to be spoken of." + +"Barbarian, my foot! We're the cleanest lot in England, and the +English are cleaner than most races." + +"Do you think there'll be another battle?" + +"Oh, help! If that cag's going to start, I'm off. Good-night, sir." + +"I must go too, Jim," said the guest, with a startled glance at the +clock. "Where did I leave my coat?" + +The Senior Engineer rose and followed them out, hearing as he passed +through the door an unwearying voice by the stove--"I know a chap on +Beatty's staff, and he says they'll fight next spring or summer." + + + + +THE GUNLAYER. + + +"_Hit first--hit hard--and keep on hitting_, is a good rule, but what +I want to impress on you is that in this war the last part of that +rule is the most important. The enemy shoots remarkably well--at a +target--but he does not appear to stand punishment well himself. It is +remarkable how the German shooting falls off once he gets a few big +shells aboard him, and up to date it has been noticeable that our own +practice is, up to a certain point, improved by our being hit. It is +just a matter of sticking power...." + +The Gunnery Lieutenant paused in his lecture and sighed. "Would these +pasty-faced beggars stick it?" He had had a week to train the +crew--most of them raw hands--of the latest and fastest light +cruiser, into a semblance of war efficiency, and the effort was tiring +him. They were so very new and unintelligent, and he had had to go +over the A B C of gunnery with them as if they had never been through +their course before joining. Seven bells struck, and he dismissed the +class and sent them shuffling and elbowing out of the flat. + + * * * * * + +They had been stationed at the guns three hours and had seen nothing. +This was their second day out, and the first nervousness and feeling +of shyness at being in enemy waters was wearing off. The mist that had +been with them since dawn was clearing away too, and the gunlayer of +No. Five straightened his back and stretched himself against the +shield. This was a silly game, he decided. Two cables astern the +knife-edge stem of a sister ship was parting their wake into two +creamy undulating waves which seemed to spoil the mirror-like surface +of what the German wireless has with inimitable humour termed "The +fringe of the English barred zone," or as their Lordships more drily +put it, "The mouth of the Bight." + + * * * * * + +The gunlayer spat carefully over the side and felt in his cap-rim for +a cigarette. He calculated that he would make the "fag," with care, +last till breakfast. Fourteen days in commission had at any rate +taught him that the art of shortening up the frequent spells of +boredom consisted in a judicious mixture of tobacco and thinking, and +as smoking was barred under heavy penalties during the dark hours, his +brain had been somewhat overworked since four. As he fumbled for his +matches he froze suddenly still as a bugle blared "Action stations!" +from the bridge above him. He heard the beginnings of the clatter of +men closing up and the hum of activity along the deck, but till the +cold shiver had passed from him he could not move. His one idea was +that this was _real_, and he would give anything to be out of it. Then +in a flash he was at his sights, his hands on the focussing-ring and +his head close up to the telescope, in fear that others might see +something in his face that he did not want them to see. For exactly +the same reasons some hundred other men on the upper deck were +becoming feverishly busy, but before the last note of the bugle had +died the guns' crews were over their stage fright, and were, with +perhaps a little more care and intelligence than they had shown at +drill, closing up to their guns. + +The gunlayer of No. Five stepped to one side and looked out on the +beam. The mists had cleared, and far to the east he could see a line +of little smoke puffs that could only mean one thing--ships in station +and burning high-speed fuel. The cruiser heeled a little, and the +smoke dots swung from abeam to nearly ahead as she turned, and he lost +sight of them behind the shield of the next gun. He wanted to go +forward and watch them. It seemed worse to have it hanging over him +like this. He did not know if he would be quite ready if the ship +turned suddenly to bring his gun to bear and he should see the enemy +at close range, and no longer as little brown smoke blurs. + +The sight-setter, a boy of seventeen, spoke to him and he looked round. +The boy's face was rather white, and his lips trembled a little. The +gunlayer woke up at the sight, and broke into a pleased grin. + +"Only little beggars," he said, "hardly enough to make a mouthful. +Don't you make no blinkin' errors this morning, my lad, or I'll land +you one you'll be proud of!" + +The speech cheered him up, and he began to believe he _might_ come out +of it alive--with luck. The ship was travelling now. The white water +raced past at a dizzy speed, and a great sloping V of bubbling foam +followed them fifty yards astern. Every few seconds a quivering +vibration started from forward and travelled through the +hull--reminding him of a terrier waiting at a rat-hole. He wanted to +smoke--there would be just time for a cigarette--but although he was +afraid of death, he was afraid of the Gunnery Lieutenant more. He +snuggled down to the shoulder-piece and began working his elevating +wheel slowly. There was little roll on the ship, and he realised +thankfully that there was going to be no difficulty about keeping his +sights on. The oblong port in the shield through which his telescope +passed worried him: it seemed so unnecessarily big. That was just like +the Admiralty designers, he thought--so long as they didn't have to +stand behind the hole they didn't care how big it was. Why, it would +let a six-inch shell through! He felt quite a grievance about it. +Then, with a heel and an increase of vibration the ship turned. Lord! +there they were--one--two--three--four--five of them--going like +smoke, too. He pressed close to his telescope, and the enemy sprang +into view--many times magnified. The boy sight-setter in a cracked +voice repeated an order, and he heard the quick shuffle of feet and +the word "Ready" come like a whip-crack from behind him. The leading +enemy danced in the heat-haze as his telescope swayed up and down her +foremast. It all depended on him and a few others now. The +responsibility worried him. The gun's crew behind him were invisible, +but he felt that their eyes were glued to his back, and that they were +wondering if he was going to make good. + +Boom--Br-r-room--Boom! That was the next ahead. It sounded a rotten +salvo. Was she ranging--or would they all start now? He saw no +splashes by the ship in his sights. Was it a complete miss, or was it +fired at another enemy? + +Boom--B-r-_room_! That was a better one. Weren't _they_ going to do +anything? As he wondered, the enemy cruiser flashed like a red helio, +and he gasped in admiration at the simultaneous firing of her battery. +A great sheet of white shut out the view in his telescope, and a +deafening crack announced the bursting of a short salvo. _Wow_-ooo! +Something whined overhead, and his own gun spoke--rocking the shield, +and making him flinch from the sights. _Gawd!_ had he fired with the +sights on, or were his eyes shut? Anyhow, the men behind him did not +seem to notice anything wrong. The breech slammed viciously, and the +word "Ready" came on the instant. "_Clang_"--something hit the shield +and glanced upwards as his gun spoke again. He knew he hadn't had the +sights on then--he hadn't been ready,--how the hell could a man keep +the sights on with this going on? Behind him a man began a scream, a +scream which was cut short suddenly with the crack of a bursting H.E. +shell and the whistle and wail of splinters. Gawd! this was +chronic--the ship must be getting it thick. The enemy swung into his +telescope field again, and he saw the throbbing flame jerk out and +vanish from her upper deck. + +B-r-r-_oom_! That was a better salvo. He must have been on the spot +that time--another one--no, he was aiming high then. Still, it didn't +matter. They'd all be dead soon and nobody would know who'd fired well +or badly. Right abreast the enemy's bridge a great spout of water shot +up, and behind it he saw the yellow sheet of flame that told of half +a broadside going home. "He _must_ keep his sights on"--"_Must_ keep +his sights on." His gun rocked as it fired, and he swore under his +breath at the delay before the crew reloaded. Were they all wounded? +They might be--as he estimated at least three full salvoes had been +aboard since the first shot. The enemy swung out of his field of view +again, and he took his eye from the telescope a moment. What the hell +was the ship turning for? The flagship must be crazy--just when we +were hitting, too. He froze to his eye-piece again, and saw the +familiar bridge and curved stem of his target as before. A haze of +purplish-grey smoke was over her forecastle, and as he fired again he +saw the flash of another salvo along her side. What was it "Guns" had +said? _The one that sticks it out._ Why couldn't they load quicker +behind him? They seemed so slow. The target vanished suddenly in a +pall of brown smoke, and he lost her for a moment, his sights swinging +down with the gentle motion of the ship. He saw splashes rise from the +sea, but heard no whine and hum of splinters following. There she was +again! And there was another salvo in the same place. A voice from +behind him said something, and he barked a profane response,--a demand +for quicker loading. The voice replied with, "Stick it, Jerry--you're +givin' 'er bloody 'ell!" And he realised suddenly that the hitting now +seemed to be all one way, and that his target was on fire from the bow +to the forward funnel. His sights swung off again, and a moment later +his gun brought up against the forward stops with a bump. He raised +his head and looked round. Their next astern was on the quarter now, +and they must have all turned together towards the enemy. The bow gun +still banged away, sending blasts of hot air back along the deck, but +no reply seemed to be coming. The gunlayer scrambled up on the shield +and looked ahead to the east. A blur of smoke hid the enemy--a great +brown greasy cloud--and he dropped on his knee to the heel that +announced another change of helm. Round they came--sixteen points--and +he had a view of the Flagship, with a long signal hoist at her +masthead, tearing past in her own wake. + +"What the hell--ain't we going to finish it? What's the game?" a +chorus of voices spoke from the deck below him, and then came the +"still" of a bugle and the pipe, "Sponge out and clean guns--clear up +upper deck. Enemy is under the guns of Heligoland." + +"Well, who cares for Heligoland?" said the gunlayer--and on the words +he came down from his perch on the gunshield with a run. A roar like a +twelve-inch salvo and a huge column of tumbling water a hundred yards +on the beam had answered him. The next shell pitched in their +wake--then another well astern, and they were out of range. He +suddenly realised that he was thirstier than he had ever been before, +and started forward to the water-tank. As he moved, a hand clutched +his arm and he found the boy sight-setter at his side, a fountain of +words, dancing with excitement. + +"My Christ! that was fine. _Gawd_--what a show, hey? An' you that +cool, too. I didn't 'alf shake, till I looked at you, an' saw you was +laughin'. We didn't 'alf brown 'em off, did we? an' they----" + +"Aw, go chase yerself," said the gunlayer. "That weren't nothing. Wait +till you sees a battle, my son--and you won't think nothing o' to-day." + +As he turned to lift the drinking-cup he glanced at the clock and saw +with amazement that it was seven-fifteen. With a vague memory of +having done so before, he fumbled in his cap-lining for a cigarette. + + + + +A WAGE SLAVE. + + +The Coxswain nodded to the boy messenger and reached for his cap. + +"All right, my lad--'ook me down that lammy. What's the panic, d'ye +know?" + +"No, _I_ dunno. Sez 'e, 'Tell 'im to come up. I want 'im at the +wheel,' 'e sez. An' I come along an'----" + +"All right--'ook it, and don't stand there blowin' down my neck." + +The Coxswain jerked his "lammy" coat on, and clumped heavily out of +the mess, chewing a section of ship's biscuit (carefully and +cunningly--for the shortage of teeth among torpedo coxswains amounts +almost to a badge of office) as he went. + +"What's up, Jim--steam tattics?" asked the Torpedo Gunner's +Mate--another Lower Deck Olympian--looking up from a three-day-old +'Telegraph.' + +The Coxswain grunted in response. It is not the custom of the Service +to answer silly questions. The reason the question was asked at all +may be put down to the fact of the 'Telegraph' being not only old but +empty of interest. + +As he reached the upper deck he buttoned his coat and felt in his +pockets for his mittens. It was very cold--a cold accentuated by the +wind of the Destroyer's passage. There was no sea, but it was +pitch-dark, with a glint of phosphorus from water broken by the wakes +of six "war-built" T.B.D.'s running in line ahead at an easy +twenty-four knots. The Coxswain could never, in all probability, have +explained his reasoning, though the fact that the speed had been +increased was noticeable; but he knew, as he swung up the ladders to +the unseen fore-bridge, that he had not been sent for a mere +alteration of course. His brain must have received some telepathic +wave from the ship's hull which told him that the enemy had had +something to do with the break in his watch below. + +His sea-boots ceased their noisy clumping as he reached the bridge, +and he was standing by the helmsman with a hand on the wheel before +the man had noticed his arrival. With an interrogative grunt he +stepped to the steering pedestal as the man moved aside, and he stood +peering at the dimly lit compass card, and moving the wheel a spoke or +two each way as he "felt" her. + +"North Seventy East--carryin' a little starboard," said the dark +figure beside him, and he accepted the "Turn-over" with another +characteristic growl-- + +"That you, Pember? Follow the next ahead and steer small." The +Commander had spoken, the white gleam from his scarf showing for a +moment in the reflected compass light. + +"Next ahead and steer small, sir." He leaned forward and watched the +blue-white fan of phosphorus that meant the stern-wave of the next +ship. Low voices spoke beside him, and the telegraphs whirred round +and reply-gongs tinkled. Half, or perhaps a quarter, of his brain +noticed these things, but they were instantly pigeon-holed and +forgotten. He was at his job, and his job was to hold his course on +the next ahead. Without an order, nothing but death would cause him to +let his attention wander from his business. He heard the +sub-lieutenant a few feet distant crooning in a mournful voice-- + + "How many miles to Babylon?" + "Three score and ten." + +The back of his brain seized the words and turned them over and over. +Babylon was in the Bible--he wasn't sure where it was on the map +though. How much was three score and ten? Three twenties were sixty, +and--"_Action Stations_"--Babylon slid into a pigeon-hole, and he +relaxed for a second from his rigid concentration on the next ahead. +He straightened up, stretching his long gaunt body, and a suspicion +of a smile lit his face. Then he resumed his peering, puckered +attitude, oblivious to everything but that phosphorescent glow ahead. +The glow broadened and brightened, and he felt the quiver beneath his +feet that told of a speed that contractors of three years ago would +have gaped at. A vivid flash of yellow light lit up the next ahead and +showed her bridge and funnels with startling clearness against the +sky. By the same flash he saw another big destroyer on the bow +crossing the line from starboard to port. His own bow gun fired at the +instant the detonations of the first shots reached him, and in the +midst of the tearing reports of a round dozen of high-velocity guns, +by some miracle of concentration, he heard a helm order from the white +scarf six feet away. The little fifteen-inch wheel whirled under his +hand, and with a complaining quiver and roll the destroyer swung after +her leader to port. In the light of a continually increasing number of +gun-flashes he saw the next ahead running "Yard-arm to Yard-arm" with +a long German destroyer, each slamming shell into the other at furious +speed. He gave a side-glance to starboard to look for his opposite +number on the enemy line--and then came one of those incidents which +show that the Navy trains men into the same mental groove, whether +officers or coxswains. + +The enemy destroyer was just turning up to show her port broadside. +She was carrying "Hard-over" helm, and her wheel could hardly reverse +in the time that would be necessary if----. The coxswain anticipated +the order he knew would come--anticipated it to the extent of a mere +fraction of port-helm and a savage grip of the wheel. The order came +in a voice that no amount of gun-fire could prevent the coxswain from +hearing just then. "_Hard-a-port!_ _Ram her_, coxswain!" The enemy saw +and tried to meet the charge bow-on. There was no room between them +for that, and he knew it. His guns did his best for him, but a man +intent on his job takes a lot of killing at short range. Two shells +hit and burst below the bridge, and the third--the coxswain swung +round the binnacle, gripping the rim with his left hand. His right +hand still held the wheel, and spun it through a full turn of +starboard helm. The stiffened razor-edge bow took the enemy at the +break of the poop, and went clean through before crushing back to the +fore bulkhead. At the impact the shattered coxswain slipped forward on +the deck and died with a smashing, splintering noise in his ears--the +tribute of war to an artist whose work was done. + + + + +AN "ANNUAL." + + +A grey drizzly morning, with yellow fog to seaward and every prospect +of a really wet day. At each side of the black basin gates stood a +little group of men, the majority "Dockyard mateys" of the rigger's +party. A few wore the insignia of higher rank--bowler hats and +watch-chains. The bowler hats conferred together in low voices, while +the rank and file conferred not at all, but stared solemnly out at the +wall of mist that cut the visibility in the harbour down to a bare +four hundred yards. + +Round the corner of the rigger's store two uniformed figures appeared +walking briskly towards the basin entrance. Both wore overcoats. The +shorter man was grey where the hair showed beneath his gold-peaked +cap, while the pale face and "washed-out" look of the younger man +indicated that the hospital ship which took him away from Gallipoli +had done so none too soon. + +As they approached, one of the bowler-wearers detached himself from +the group and spoke to the senior of the two. There was a +three-cornered comparison of watches and then a move to the wall, over +the edge of which they gazed down at the slowly moving yellow water. + +"We'll give her another quarter of an hour, Mr Johnson, and then pack +up," said the officer. "I think it has cleared a little since six, and +I know they'll bring her up if they possibly can." + +Through the medley of horns, syrens, and whistles that had been +sounding through the fog, four short blasts caught the ear of a rigger +who leaned against the outward capstan bollard. He lounged forward a +couple of paces, and the men nearest looked round at him with a +symptom of interest. The blasts sounded again, and he turned and +looked at the foreman rigger behind him. The foreman nodded and spoke +and the group separated a little, some of the men picking up long +flexible "heaving-lines" coiled in neat rings on the cobble-stones. + +"She's coming, sir," said the foreman, turning to the King's +Harbourmaster; "she'll just do it nicely. That was the new tug's +whistle." + +A couple of capstan bollards began to clatter round as steam was +turned on and a heavy wooden fender swung with a crash over the +rounded edge of each entrance wall. The mist was clearing now, and the +traffic in the harbour could be dimly seen. A foreman pointed to +seaward, and the younger officer followed his arm with his tired eyes. +Over the fog a slender dark line showed with a blurred foretop below. +The unmistakable tripod mast of a big ship showed gradually through, +and as he watched he was reminded of a magic-lantern picture out of +focus being gradually brought into definition by the operator. The +mist cleared faster than she approached, and at a quarter of a mile +he could see the great looming bow surmounted by tier on tier of +bridges, which mounted almost to the high overhanging top. She crawled +slowly on, using her own engines, the hawsers leading to the furiously +agitated paddle tugs on bow and quarter sweeping slack along the +stream. On the tall "monkey's island" a group of figures clustered +together, and the gleam of gold-peaked caps showed among the blue +overcoats. At half a cable's length the voices of the leadsmen, +inarticulate and faint before, could be clearly heard. "And a +_ha-a-a-f_ nine"--"and a _ha-a-a-f_ nine." The bow tugs sheered off to +each side, and whistles blew shrilly. The heavy bow hawsers fell +splashing in the water, and the jingle of engine-room telegraph bells +echoed up the walls of the entrance. A couple of dingy black "rigger" +boats, propelled "Maltee fashion," with the rowers standing facing +forward, appeared between the dockyard wall and the great curved stem. +Heaving-lines sailed through the air, uncoiling as they flew, and the +boats rowed furiously back to the entrance. From somewhere aft by the +turret a great bull voice spoke through a megaphone. The riggers at +the entrance leapt into sudden activity, and for five minutes the din +and clatter of capstans, shrilling of whistles, and splash of hawsers +in the water broke the spell of silence. The noise died suddenly, and +the note of telegraph bells came ringing again from the high grey +monster. Slowly she gathered way, and to the clatter of the dockyard +capstans as the slack of the hawsers was taken in, her forty-foot +curved stem passed the black caisson gates. The two officers, the +young and the old, stepped to the edge of the wall and looked across. +Her stem had hit off the exact centre of the entrance, but there was a +good two hundred yards of her to come yet. In dead silence, with +groups of men fallen in at attention along her side, she flowed on, +her speed a bare two knots, but a speed in keeping with her enormous +bulk and majesty. As she entered, and the finer lines of her bow +passed, she seemed to swell, till she almost filled the entrance, and +it looked as if one could step aboard her from the lock-side. The eyes +travelled from the mighty turret guns that glistened in the rain, and +were attracted up and up till heads were tilted back to look at the +highest bridge of all. A quiet incisive voice could be clearly heard: +"Port ten"--"'Midships"--"Stop both." Again the "kling-kling" of bells +and then silence. The grey-haired officer on the wall raised his hand +in salute, and a tall grave captain, looking down from above, saluted +in return, showing a flash of white teeth in a smile of recognition. + +As she passed the hawsers came with her, transferred from bollard to +bollard by gangs of staggering men. The passage of her stern past the +outer entrance seemed to break a spell, as if the hypnotism of +hundreds of staring eyes had passed away. The caisson gates ground to +with almost indecent haste behind her, as some castle portcullis might +do as the last prisoner was dragged through. Whistles blew, answering +each other across the oily, rain-pitted water of the basin, and to the +_weeep we-ooo_ of pipes and the roar of the boatswains mates' voices, +the lines of rigid men on the great ship's side broke up and fell +back. She had left the open sea and had become "Number 955--for +refit--in Dockyard hands." + +"How long is she for, sir? Ten days?" + +The grey-haired officer turned: "No, only eight. They want her back as +soon as possible. Four days' leave to each watch and she'll be off +again. You're looking cold, boy--come up to breakfast. That malaria +hasn't left you yet." + +"I wish it would, sir. I want to get to sea again. + +"I know. It's not so bad to watch them come in, but it makes me feel +old when I see them leaving again. But you needn't worry, the War's +going on a long time yet." + + + + +"OUR ANNUAL." + + + Up the well-remembered fairway, past the buoys and forts we drifted-- + Saw the houses, roads, and churches, as they were a year ago. + Far astern were wars and battles, all the dreary clouds were lifted, + As we turned the Elbow Ledges--felt the engines ease to "Slow." + + Rusty side and dingy paintwork, stripped for war and cleared for + battle-- + Saw the harbour-tugs around us--smelt the English fields again,-- + English fields and English hedges--sheep and horses, English cattle, + Like a screen unrolled before us, through the mist of English rain. + + Slowly through the basin entrance--twenty thousand tons a-crawling + With a thousand men aboard her, all a-weary of the War-- + Warped her round and laid alongside with the cobble-stones + a-calling-- + "There's a special train awaiting, just for you to come ashore." + + Out again as fell the evening, down the harbour in the gloaming + With the sailors on the fo'c'sle looking wistfully a-lee-- + Just another year of waiting--just another year of roaming + For the Majesty of England--for the Freedom of the Sea. + + + + +MASCOTS. + + + When the galleys of Ph[oe]nicia, through the gates of Hercules, + Steered South and West along the coast to seek the Tropic Seas, + When they rounded Cape Agulhas, putting out from Table Bay, + They started trading North again, as steamers do to-day. + They dealt in gold and ivory and ostrich feathers too, + With a little private trading by the officers and crew, + Till rounding Guardafui, steering up for Aden town, + The tall Ph[oe]nician Captain called the First Lieutenant down. + "By all the Tyrian purple robes that you will never wear, + By the Temples of Zimbabwe, by King Solomon I swear, + The ship is like a stable, like a Carthaginian sty. + I am Captain here--confound you!--or I'll know the reason why. + Every sailor in the galley has a monkey or a goat; + There are parrots in the eyes of her and serpents in the boat. + By the roaring fire of Baal, I'll not have it any more: + Heave them over by the sunset, or I'll hang you at the fore!" + "What is that, sir? _Not_ as cargo? _Not_ a bit of private trade? + Well, of all the dumbest idiots you're the dumbest ever made, + Standing there and looking silly: _leave the animals alone_." + (Sailors with a tropic liver always have a brutal tone.) + "By the crescent of Astarte, I am not religious--yet-- + I would sooner spill the table salt than kill a sailor's pet." + + + + +THE SPARROW. + + +A perfectly calm blue sea, a blazing June sun, and absolutely nothing +to break the monotony of a blank horizon. The sparrow was deadbeat, +and was travelling slowly to the north and west on a zigzag course, +about two hundred feet high. The sparrow had no right to be there at +all. He hailed from a Yorkshire hedgerow, and nothing but a real +three-day fog and westerly winds could have brought him over such a +waste of waters. He had been flying in a circle all night, swerving at +intervals down to the water in the vain hope of finding rest for his +aching muscles. Now he was heading roughly towards his home with but +slight hopes of ever reaching it. + +A faint droning noise to the north made him turn, and low over the +straight-ruled horizon he saw a silvery-white line that every moment +grew larger. He headed towards it, but at a mile range swerved away to +pass astern of it. It was not an inviting object for even a lost +sparrow to rest on. With engines running slow--so slowly that the +blades of the great propellors could be easily seen--with a broad +white-and-black ensign flapping lazily below and astern, the Zeppelin +droned on to the south'ard, a thing of massive grace and beauty on +such a perfect summer's day. + +With a vague idea that the monster might lead him home, the sparrow +turned and followed. The Zeppelin slowly drew ahead and rose higher, +while far to the south another monster rose over the skyline, black +against the sun. The great craft passed each other and turned away, +the first one heading back to the north whence he had come, and the +second disappearing to the east, climbing slowly as he went. + +The sparrow turned also and fluttered and dipped in pathetic +confidence after his first visitor. The fact of having seen +_something_, however unpleasant and strange-looking, had given him a +new access of strength, and he was able to keep the great silver thing +in easy view. Suddenly the Zeppelin tilted like a hunter at a high +fence, and the note of his engines rose to a dull roar. He climbed +like--well, like a sparrow coming up to a house-top--and at three +thousand feet he circled at full power, levelling off his angle, and +showing a turn of speed which left the frightened bird gaping. + +The sparrow fluttered on vaguely, passing at 100 feet above the water, +below the Zeppelin. He had decided that a pilot who played tricks like +that was no sort of use to him, and that he had better stick to his +original idea of working to the north and west, however lonely a +course it might be. He swerved a little at a rushing, whistling noise +that came from above him, and which grew to a terrifying note. A big +dark object whipped past him, and a moment later splashed heavily into +the mirror-like surface below. The rings made by its impact had +hardly started to widen, when there was a great convulsion, and a +column of smoky-white water leapt up behind him, followed by the roar +of an explosion. The sparrow started to climb--to climb as he had +never done in his life. Twice more--his weariness forgotten--he was +urged to further efforts to gain height, by the shock of the great +detonations from the water below. The Zeppelin was down to a thousand +feet now, swinging round on a wider circle. Five hundred feet below, +the sparrow saw a faint streak on the water which faded at one end +into blue sea, and at the other narrowed to a little feather of spray +round a dark point that was travelling like the fin of some slowly +moving fish to the north-westward. The Zeppelin saw it too, and came +hunting back along the line. Bang--bang--bang! Great columns shot up +again ahead and astern of the strange fish, and away went the sparrow +to the south once more. Any course was bad in this place, and it was +better to die alone in the waters than to be pursued by such a +monster of the air. As he went he heard more and more detonations +behind him, until the noise of the droning engine had died, when he +was again alone over the sparkling unfriendly sea. The exertions and +alarm of the last hour had taken the last of his reserve forces, and +in uneven flutterings his flight tended lower and lower, till he was a +bare twenty feet from what he knew must be his grave. Then came a +miracle of war. A bare quarter-mile ahead a thing like a tapering +lance began to rise and grow from the water. It was followed by a grey +black-lettered tower which also grew and showed a rounded grey hull, +moving slowly south with a white band of froth spinning away astern. A +lid on the tower clanged open, and two figures appeared. One raised +something to his eye, and faced south. The other stood on the rail and +pivoted slowly round, staring at sky and sea. + +"I wonder what the deuce he was bombing--bit of wreckage, I suppose," +said the man on the rail. + +"Well, it wasn't us anyway. The blind old baby-killer." The man with +the sextant lowered it and fiddled with the shades. "_We've_ got no +boats near, have we, sir?" + +"Not for donkeys' miles. I hope it was a Fritz, anyway. I say, look at +that spadger!" + +"Where? I don't see it. Stand by. Stop, sir." + +"All right, I got you. Here, catch this watch. That spadger's gone +down into the casing, and he'll drown if we dip with him there. Look +out for those Zepps. coming back." + +The Captain swung quickly down the foreside of the conning-tower, ran +forward and peered into the casing in the eyes of the boat. + +"Zepp. coming, sir,--north of us, just gone behind a bit of cloud." + +"Zepp. be damned. Ah! got you, you little beggar." He reached his arm +into a coil of wet rope and rose triumphantly to his feet. The sparrow +cheeped pitifully as he ran aft again and took the ladder in two +jumps. He gave a glance astern and another all round the horizon +before following his sextant-clutching subordinate below. The lid +clanged, and with a sigh, a gurgle, and a flirt of her screws the +submarine slid under, the blank and expressionless eye of her +periscope staring fixedly at an unconscious but triumphant Zeppelin +that was gliding out from a fleecy patch of cloud astern. + + * * * * * + +"Here you are, Lizzie. Skipper said I was to let him go soon's we got +in, but I just brought 'im to show you. We've 'ad 'im aboard five days +now, and 'e can't 'alf eat biscuit. 'E's as full as 'e can 'old now. +Open the window, old girl, and we'll let 'im out afore I starts +'ugging yer." + +The lid of the cap-box opened wide and the sparrow hopped to the +table. He raised his cramped wings and fluffed out his feathers as he +felt his muscles again. There was a flutter and a flip of his impudent +tail, and quicker than the eye could follow him the wanderer was gone. + + + + +A WAR WEDDING. + + +Old Bill Dane? Yes, he's married now. We got a week's refitting leave, +and I've just been seeing him through it. Ye--es, there was a bit of a +hitch when they were engaged, but----Well, I'll tell you the story. I +saw most of it, because I was sort of doing second for him then too. +You see, he and I got it rather in the neck in the August scrap, and +we came out of hospital together. I had a smashed leg and he had a +scalp wound. Nothing to write home about, but it didn't make any more +of a Venus of him when it healed. They sent us on sick-leave, and we +stayed with his people. His guvnor's the eye specialist, you know--got +a home in town, and keeps the smell of iodoform in Harley Street, and +doesn't let it come into the house. We were all right. We led the +quiet life, and just pottered around, and saw the shows and so on. We +gave the social life a miss until Bill's sister let us in. Bill didn't +want to go, but she put it to me, and as I was sort of her guest I had +to make him come. Who? The sister? Oh! all right, you know. Don't be a +fool, or I won't tell you the yarn. Well, she took us poodlefaking, +and it cost me a bit at Gieves' for new rig, too. It was about our +third stunt that way when Bill got into trouble. We were at some bally +great house belonging to a stockbroker or bookie or some one, and they +were doing fox-trots up and down the drawing-room, and Bill and I were +rather out of it. I was lame and he's no dancing man, unless it's just +dressed in a towel or two to amuse guests in the wardroom when there's +a bit of table-turning going on. Some woman came and told him he'd got +to join up, and took him over to the girl. She was dressed regular +war-flapper fashion, you know, like a Bank of Expectation cheque, +except she hadn't got a top-hat on as some of them had lately. Most +of 'em in the room were togged out like that, and Bill and I had just +agreed we didn't go much on the style at all, but Bill is a proper +lamb about women. He did one turn of the room with the girl, dancing a +sort of Northern Union style, and then she stopped, and he brought her +over to me and plumped her on the sofa between us. I think he wanted +to see if I was laughing. She started on me at once, and asked me all +about my leg and Bill's head, and talked like a Maxim. Asked me if we +were great friends, and made me laugh. I said we had only forgathered +because I had beaten him in the middle-weights in the Grand Fleet +championships, and though I had never seen his face before, his left +stop had touched my heart. She dropped me then--she thought I was +pulling her leg--and turned to Bill, and then his sister took me off +to get her tea. I didn't realise Bill was getting soft about it till +his sister told me, though the fact of our going to tea and dinner at +the girl's home that week had seemed funny to me at the time. The +sister was rather pleased about it--said she knew the girl and liked +her. I said I didn't think much of that sort, but she smoothed me down +a bit. She thought that they would do each other good. I said Bill was +such an old lamb he'd only get sloppy, and do what the girl told him; +but she laughed. She told me I might know Jim in the ring, but I +didn't know much about him otherwise. I was rather shirty at that, but +I think now she was talking sense, though I didn't then. Well, Bill +can get quite busy when he makes his mind up, and the way he rushed +that girl was an education to watch. They were engaged in ten days +from the first time we went to her house, and I don't think we missed +seeing her for more than twelve hours in that time. I? Oh, I and the +sister were chaperons. I didn't mind. I was sorry for Bill, but I +wasn't going to spoil things for him if he was set on it. + +The girl's people were all right. They were rather the Society type, +you know--thought London was capital of the world, and that a Gotha +bomb in the West End ought to mean a new Commander-in-Chief to relieve +Haig; but they were quite decent. + +The trouble? Well, I'm coming to that. It came about a week after they +had announced the engagement. Old Bill had been getting a bit restive +over things. You see, he had begun to wonder just where _he_ came into +the business. He wanted to get the girl off by her lonesome to a +desert island, and tell her what a peach she was, for the rest of her +natural life; but the girl hadn't got an inkling of what he thought +about it. He was towed round like a pet bear and told to enjoy +himself, while people talked over his head. She was just a kid, and +she didn't know. It seemed to her that being engaged was good fun, and +getting married was a matter they could think about later, when she'd +had time to consider it. She was all for the tango-tea and the latest +drawing-room crazes. I didn't feel enthusiastic about his affairs, and +I told the sister so; but she laughed about it all. I didn't. The +girl, Hilda--her name was Hilda Conron--was just like a kid with a +toy. She took him around and showed him off, and she went on quacking +away to all her pals as if Bill wasn't in the room. She seemed to take +it for granted he was going to join up with her crowd and learn to do +the same tricks and talk the same patter as they did. Bill certainly +tried; but they treated him like a fool, and he told me several times +he felt like one. Well then, we came to the smash. Lord, it _was_ a +queer show, and I'd sooner have had my leg off than have missed it. We +were taken off to a charity auction, Red Cross or something, where +they sold bits of A. A. shell with the Government marks on them as +bits of Zepp. bombs, and Pekinese dogs for a hundred quid or so. After +the sale, about twenty of the household and the guests that had paid +most clustered round to add up the takings and drink tea and talk. +Miss Conron had been selling things, and was dressed up to the nines. +There was a bishop there, and some young staff officers and some +civilians, M.P.'s, or editors or something like that. Old Bill was +sitting with me and his sister, looking like a family lawyer at a +funeral, and the girl was perched on a sofa with a lanky +shopwalker-looking bloke alongside her. He was an indispensable of +sorts--Secretary to the Minister of some bloomin' thing or other. He +was the lad, I tell you,--sort of made you feel you were waiting on +the mat when he talked. He was laying down the law about the War and +all about it, and he talked like all the Angels at a Peace Conference. +But it was the bishop that put his foot in the mulligatawny first. He +agreed with the smooth-haired draper-man about the need of peace, but +he said we should see that Germany provided suitable reparation for +Belgium. Bill sat up and got red and stuttered, and said: "I don't +think Germany or anybody can give Belgium back what she has lost." + +They all looked at Bill as if he had just dawned on them, and Bill +looked more foolish. The draper-man shipped an eyeglass and looked him +over like a new specimen. "Ah!" he said, "our naval friend? Perhaps +you will tell us in what way you consider the War can be ended before +the world comes to economic ruin. Must we wait until you have had your +fill of fighting or have destroyed the High Sea Fleet?" + +Bill stood up and stopped looking silly. Miss Dane leaned back in her +chair, and I heard her sigh as if she was pleased about something. + +"Never mind the High Sea Fleet," said Bill. "That's not your business +to worry about. But as to 'fill of fighting,' you've said it there. +When we've had our fill of fighting Germany will have had more, but +we're a long way from that yet." + +The long stiff turned to Miss Conron. "Why, little Miss Hilda," he +said, "your fiance is charming. He should speak in the Park on Sundays +and we would all come to listen." + +The girl got red and looked daggers at Bill. She didn't like his +making a fool of himself, and she wanted him back in his chair again. +The long man put a hand on her knee and spoke quietly to her, and she +shook her head at him and laughed. That did it. My oath! that did it +all right. Bill shrugged his shoulders back and took station in the +outer ring of draper-worshippers, and spoke like a--a Demosthenes. + +"You blank, blank, blank," he said, "get off that sofa and get away +from Miss Conron." + +The Bishop looked as if the end of the world had come and he was +adrift with his cash accounts. The staff officers looked blank and the +women got scary. I got up and took station on Bill's quarter in case +any one got excited. The long man put up his glass again and showed +symptoms of an approaching oration. + +"You stay then, you half-breed dog," said Bill; "I'm going to talk to +you." Bill put his hands in his coat pockets and looked around. "Now +listen," he said; "I'm talking for a lot of men who aren't here. +_We're_ fighting this show, and there are some millions of us. Who +are you to talk of War or Peace? By God, if you try and pack up we'll +put you to work again. If you're going to compromise with Germany, we +won't. Have you forgotten what the Germans can do? My oath, you make +me sick. What can it matter if the nations are all broken and ruined +so long as we smash Germany? _We_ don't want money and luxuries to +fight on. Give us food and munitions till we have done what we started +to do. You whining people--what do you know of it? Have you got no +guts at all? Have you read the Bryce Report? Yes, I bet you have, and +locked it away so that your women shouldn't see it. I tell you, it +doesn't matter to us, and we're about four million men, if we are all +killed so long as we kill eight million Huns. I know a sergeant who +has killed five Prussian officers, and I think he's a real man, not +like you. He took to it after he saw a five-year-old girl with her +hands cut off hanging like a sucking-pig on a meat-hook in a wrecked +French village. Doesn't that make you feel it? I tell you, if you +play the fool behind our backs we'll take charge of you. Yes, Bishop, +you'll keep up the good work in a munition factory, and you'll work +hard too. If you can't be a patriot now, you will be when you've been +caned across your lathe." + +They were as still as mice, and the rumble of traffic along Piccadilly +sounded very loud. Miss Conron was as white as a sheet, and her eyes +were staring as if she were scared to death. Bill took a long breath +and went on-- + +"I've tried to see your point of view while I've been among you, and I +can't. I'm going to leave you and get back to my own lot. I'm giving +up something I didn't think I could give up, but I won't join you just +to get it. There are not so many of us as there are of you, but you'll +do what you're told if we take charge. Most of us have seen dead men, +and some of us have seen dead women. None of you have seen either, and +you don't understand. You want to hide things away and pretend +they're not there. They _are_ there, and they are going on wherever +the Germans are, you fools. There's a man here who has been +impertinent to me because he thinks I'm a fool. I'm a better man than +any six of his sort, and I'm going to show him how. It will do the +rest of you good to watch, because you haven't seen death yet, and a +man with a bruise or two will seem a big thing to you. Come along, my +sofa-king, you're for it." + +Bill walked up to him with his hands down and the women began to +squeal. The draper-man was game. He took a step forward and swung his +right. Bill hooked him under the chin and gave him the left in the +stomach. The poor beggar backed off, taking a wicked upper-cut as he +did so. As he straightened again Bill sent a couple of full swings to +his head. He was going down, but Bill wouldn't let him. I think if he +hadn't been so clever with Miss Conron on the sofa he would have got +off fairly cheap, but a girl makes a lot of difference to any scrap. +He took about six more before he hit the deck, and then he looked +like a Belgian atrocity picture by Raemaekers. Bill came over to me +and signalled his sister to the door. She moved off. My oath, she +hadn't turned a hair--she's a sportsman. He looked across at Miss +Conron, who was still on the sofa looking at the huddled figure in the +middle of the carpet. "I'm going now, Hilda," he said; "your people +aren't my people. I'm sorry." + +She never moved, but the colour had come back into her face again. +Bill shrugged back his shoulders and turned his back, and we started +for the door. Miss Dane was there, holding the handle and looking past +us at the horrified group we had left. As we got almost up to her she +smiled and came to Bill. She took him by the shoulders and turned him +round, and I turned to see what she was looking at. Miss Conron was +walking that sixty-foot plank after us, and I knew when I saw her face +that she and Bill were going to be all right. She didn't say anything, +and the four of us went out, and Bill kissed her in the hall in front +of the servants. Trouble? No--not much. You see, Bill had had a scalp +wound, and they put it all down to that. The draper-man didn't want to +publish things much, and Miss Conron's father has got a bit of a pull. +If he had no kick coming other people could shut up, and--oh yes! +Sound as a bell--he wouldn't have got married otherwise. But, by gum, +his sister was right--wasn't she? + + + + +A HYMN OF DISGUST. + + + You wrote a pretty hymn of Hate, + That won the Kaiser's praise, + Which showed your nasty mental state, + And made us laugh for days. + I can't compete with such as you + In doggerel of mine, + But this is certain--_and_ it's true, + You bloody-handed swine-- + + We do not mouth a song of hate, or talk about you--much, + We do not mention things like you--it wouldn't be polite; + One doesn't talk in drawing-rooms of Prussian dirt and such, + We only want to kill you off--so roll along and fight. + + For men like you with filthy minds, you leave a nasty taste, + We can't forget your triumphs with the girls you met in France. + By your standards of morality, gorillas would be chaste, + And you consummate your triumphs with the bayonet and the lance. + + You give us mental pictures of your officers at play, + With naked girls a-dancing on the table as you dine, + With their mothers cut to pieces, in the knightly German way, + In the corners of the guard-room in a pool of blood and wine. + + You had better stay in Germany, and never go abroad, + For wherever you may wander you will find your fame has gone, + For you are outcasts from the lists, with rust upon your sword-- + The blood of many innocents--of children newly born. + + You are bestial men and beastly, and we would not ask you home + To meet our wives and daughters, for we doubt that you are clean; + You will find your fame in front of you wherever you may roam, + You--who came through burning Belgium with the ladies for a screen. + + You--who love to hear the screaming of a girl beneath the knife, + In the midst of your companions, with their craning, eager necks; + When you crown your German mercy, and you take a sobbing life-- + You are not exactly gentlemen towards the gentle sex. + + With your rapings in the market-place and slaughter of the weak, + With your gross and leering conduct, and your utter lack of shame,-- + When we note in all your doings such a nasty yellow streak, + You show surprise at our disgust, and say you're not to blame. + + We don't want any whinings, and we'd sooner wait for peace + Till you realise your position, and you know you whine in vain; + And you stand within a circle of the Cleaner World's Police, + And we goad you into charging--and we clean the world again. + + For you should know that never shall you meet us as before, + That none will take you by the hand or greet you as a friend; + So stay with it, and finish it--who brought about the War-- + And when you've paid for all you've done--well, that will be the End. + + + + +THE "SPECIAL." + + +She was not new, and nobody could call her handsome. She was evidently +more accustomed to rough weather than paint, and her sloping +forecastle and low freeboard were old-fashioned, to say the least of +them. She jogged slowly along, rolling to a short beam sea, with an +apologetic air, as if she felt ashamed of being what she was--a +pre-war torpedo-boat on local patrol duty. + +She steered no particular course, and varied her speed capriciously as +she beat up and down. Being in sight of the land--a grey, hard, low +line to the westward--there was no need for accurate plotting of +courses. On the bridge stood her Captain, a dark, lean, R.N.R. +Lieutenant, pipe in mouth and hands in "lammy" pockets. The T.B. was +rolling too much for any one to walk the tiny deck of the bridge; in +fact, a landsman would have had difficulty in standing at all. He +turned his head as his First Lieutenant swung up the little iron +ladder behind him. + +"What's for lunch?" he asked, carefully knocking out his pipe on the +rail before him. + +"The same," said his laconic subordinate, who was engaged in a rapid +survey of the compass card, revolution indicator, and the horizon +astern. The two stood side by side a moment looking out at the sea and +sky to windward. "Any pickles?" said the Captain. + +"No, only mustard." + +The Captain sighed and turned to leave the bridge. The First Lieutenant +pivoted suddenly--"It's better'n you and I had off the Horn in the +_Harvester_. You'd 've been glad to get beef then, even if it was in a +tin." He snorted, and turned forward again to look ahead. The Captain +remained at the foot of the ladder, reading a signal handed to him by a +waiting Boy Telegraphist. The argument on the subject of tinned beef had +lasted a year already, and could be continued at leisure. + +The boy received the signal back and vanished below, while the Captain +climbed slowly to the bridge again. He spoke to the man at the wheel, +and himself moved the revolution indicator. + +"Panic?" said the First Lieutenant (neither of them seemed to use more +than one word at a time, unless engaged in an argument). + +"Sure," was the reply. "Tell 'em to make that blinkin' stuff into +sandwiches and send 'em up." + +The First Lieutenant went down the ladder in silence. The matter of +the tinned beef was to him, as mess caterer, a continual sore point. + +The T.B. started on a more erratic course than before, tacking in long +irregular stretches out to seaward. Smoke was showing up against the +land astern, and there was a sense of stirring activity in the air. + +Two more torpedo-boats appeared suddenly from nowhere, hoists of +coloured flags flying at their slender masts. The three hung on one +course a moment, conferring, then spread fanwise and separated. The +first boat turned back towards harbour and the growing smoke-puffs, +which rapidly approached and showed more and more mine-sweepers coming +out. + +A droning, humming noise made the Captain look up, and he pivoted slowly +round, following with his eyes a big seaplane a thousand feet above him. + +As the sound of the engines died away, it seemed to start swelling +again, as another machine appeared a mile abeam of them, and following +the first. + +The T.B. swung round ahead of the leading sweepers, and turned back to +seaward. Her speed was not great, but half an hour after the turn the +sweepers were hull down astern. A small airship slipped out of a low +cloud and droned away on the common course. Every type of small craft +seemed to be going easterly, and the sea, which an hour ago had been +almost blank, was now dotted with patrol ships of every queer kind +and rig. From overhead it must have looked like a pack of hounds +tumbling out of cover and spreading on a faint line. But, like the +hounds, the floating pack was working to an end, and whatever the +various courses steered, the whole was moving out to sea. + +The Boy Telegraphist hauled himself, panting, on to the bridge, and +thrust a crumpled signal before the Captain's eyes. The Captain +grunted and spoke shortly, and the boy dashed off below. A moment +later the piping of calls sounded along the bare iron deck, and men in +heavy sea-boots began to cluster aft and at the guns. The funnels sent +out a protesting spout of brown smoke as the T.B. began to work up to +her speed, and the choppy sea sent up a steady sheet of spray along +her forecastle and over the crouching figures at the bow gun. The rest +of the pack appeared to have caught the whimper too, for everything +that could raise more than "Tramp's pace" was hurrying due east. A +faint dull "boom" came drifting down wind as the First Lieutenant +arrived on the bridge, and the two officers looked at each other in +silence a moment. + +"Bomb, sir?" said the junior, showing an interest which almost made +him conversational. + +"Sure thing," said the other. "She gave us the tip when she saw him, +and that'll be one to put him under." + +"How far d'you think it was?" + +"Seven-eight mile. You all ready?" + +The First Lieutenant nodded and slipped down the ladder again. Three +miles astern came a couple of white specks--the bow-waves of big +destroyers pushed to their utmost power. The Captain studied them a +moment with his binoculars, and gave a grunt which the helmsman +rightly interpreted as one of satisfaction. Slow as she was, the old +T.B. had a long start, and was going to be on the spot first. The dark +was shutting down, and the shapes of the other T.B.'s on either beam +were getting dim. + + * * * * * + +The night was starlit, and with the wind astern the T.B. made easy +weather of it. The two officers leaned forward over the rail staring +ahead towards the unseen land. Lights showed on either hand, and +occasionally they swung past the dark squat shape of a lit trawler, +also bound home. + +"Are you going to claim?" asked one of the watching figures. The other +paused before replying-- + +"We-ell," he said, "I'll just report. I think we shook him to the +bunt, but it's no good claiming unless you can show prisoners, Iron +Cross and all." Another ruminative pause. "Your people were smart on +it--devilish smart." Another pause. "What's for dinner?" + +A dark mass ahead came into view, and turned slowly into a line of +great ships coming towards them. + +The T.B. swung off to starboard, and slowed her engines. One by one +they went past her--huge, silent, and scornful, while the T.B. rocked +uneasily in the cross sea made by their wakes. The Captain watched +them go, chewing the stem of his unlit pipe. They were the cause of +the day's activity, but it was seldom he met them at close range +except like this, in the dark on his way home. + +The line seemed endless, more and more dark hulls coming into view, +and fading quickly into the dark again. As the last swung by the +T.B.'s telegraph bells rang cheerfully, and she jogged off westward to +where a faint low light flickered at intervals under the land. + + + + +BETWEEN TIDES. + + +A stranger, if suddenly transplanted to the spot, would have taken +some time after opening his eyes to realise that the boat was +submerged. He would probably decide at first that she was anchored in +harbour. Far away forward, under an avenue of overhead electric lamps, +figures could be seen--all either recumbent or seated--and from them +the eye was led on till it lost its sense of distance in a narrowing +perspective of wheels, pipes, and gauges. All the while there was a +steady buzzing hum from slowly turning motors, and about every half +minute there came a faint whir of gear wheels from away aft by the +hydroplanes. From the bell-mouths of a cluster of voice-pipes a murmur +of voices sounded--the conversation of officers by the periscope; +while the ear, if close to the arched steel hull, could catch a +bubbling, rippling noise--the voice of the North Sea passing overhead. + +The men stationed aft near the motors were not over-clean, and were +certainly unshaven; some were asleep or reading (the literature carried +and read by the crew would certainly have puzzled a librarian--it varied +from 'Titbits' and 'John Bull' to 'Piers Plowman' and 'The Origin of +Species'): a few were engaged in a heated discussion as they sat around +a big torpedoman--the only man of the group actually on duty at the +moment. His duties appeared only to consist in being awake and on the +spot if wanted, and he was, as a matter of fact, fully occupied as one +of the leading spirits in the argument. + +"Well, let's '_ear_ what you're getting at," he said. "We 'eard a lot +of talk, but it don't go anywhere. You say you're a philosopher, but +you don't know what you do mean." + +"_I_ know blanky well, but you can't understand me," said the +engine-room artificer addressed. "Look here, now--you've got to die +some time, haven't you?" + +"Granted, Professor." + +"Well, it's all arranged _now_ how you're to die, I say. It doesn't +matter when or how it is, but it's all settled--see? And you don't +know, and none of us know anything about it." + +"That's all very well--but 'oo is it knows, then? D'you mean God?" + +"No, I don't--I'm an atheist, I tell you. There's _something_ that +arranges it all, but it ain't God." + +"Well, 'oo the 'ell is it, then--the Admiralty?" + +The Artificer leaned forward, his dark eyes alight and his face +earnest as that of some medieval hermit. "I tell you," he said, "you +can believe in God, or Buddha, or anything you like, but it's the same +thing. Whatever it is, it doesn't care. It has it all ready and +arranged--written out, if you like--and it will have to happen just +so. It's pre--pre----" + +"Predestination." The deep voice came from the Leading Stoker on the +bench beside him. + +"Predestination. No amount of praying's any good. It's no use going +round crying to gods that aren't there to help you. You've got to go +through it as it's written down." + +"Prayer's all right," said the Leading Stoker. "If you believe what +you pray, you'll get it." + +"That's not true. Have you ever had it? Give us an instance now----" + +"I don't pray none, thank you. All the same, it's good for women and +such that go in for it, like. It ain't the things that alter; it's +yourself that does it. Ain't you never 'eard o' Christian Science?" + +"Yes; same as the Mormons, ain't it? Is that what you are?" + +"No, it ain't--an' I'm a Unitarian, same as you are." + +"I'm not--I'm a Baptist, same as my father was; but I don't believe in +it." + +"Well, if you believe in one God, that's what you are." + +"But I'm telling you, I _don't_. Look here, now. I don't believe +there's anything happens at all that wasn't all arranged first, and I +know that nothing can alter it." + +"Well, 'oo laid it all down first go off, then?" said the Torpedoman. + +"Ah! I don't know and you don't know; but I tell you it wasn't God." + +"Well, 'e's a bigger man than me then, an' I takes me 'at off to 'im, +'ooever it is. I tell yer, yer talkin' through yer neck. You say if +you're going to be shot, there's a bullet about somewhere in some +one's pouch with yer name writ on it. Ain't that it? Well, 'oo the +'ell put yer name on it, then?" + +"It doesn't matter to me so long's it's there, does it?" + +"Well, if that was so, I'd like to know 'oo 'e was, so's I could pass +'im the word not to 'ave the point filed off of it for me, anyway." + +"Well, you couldn't--and he couldn't alter it for you if he was there, +either." + +The Torpedoman moved along the bench and twisted his head round till +his ear was against one of the voice-pipes. The others sat silent and +watched him with lazy interest. + +"We're takin' a dip," he said. "Thought I 'eard 'im say, 'Sixty +feet.'" The faint rolling motion that had been noticeable before died +away, and the boat seemed to have become even more peaceful and +silent. The Leading Stoker leaned back against the hull and rested his +head against the steel. From the starboard hand there came a faint +murmur, which grew till the regular threshing beat of a propeller +could be distinguished. The sound swelled till they could hear in its +midst a separate piping, squeaking note. The ship passed on overhead, +and the threshing sound passed with her and faded until again the +steady purr of motors remained the only reminder of the fact that the +boat was diving. They felt her tilt up a little by the bow as she +climbed back to regain her patrol depth. + +"That's a tramp," said the Torpedoman; "nootral, I reckon." + +"Squeaky bearing, too," said the Artificer judicially. "Don't suppose +he's looked at his thrust since he left port. What's the skipper want +to go under her for?" + +"Save trouble, I s'pose; didn't want to alter helm for 'er. What was +you talkin' of--yes, Kismet--that's the word I've been wantin' all +along. You're a Mohammedan, you are?" + +"Aw, don't be a fool; I tell you I'm nothing." + +The fourth wakeful figure, another Torpedoman, spoke for the first +time. "If you're nothing, and you think you're nothing, what the 'ell +d'yer want to make such a fuss about it for?" + +"_I_ don't make a fuss. It's all you people who think you're something +who make a fuss. You can't alter what's laid down, but you think you +can. You fuss and panic to stave things off, but you're like chickens +in a coop--you can't get out till your master lets you, and he can't +understand what you say, and he wouldn't pay any attention to it if he +did." + +The big Torpedoman put out a hand like a knotted oak-root and spoke-- + +"You an' your Kismet," he said scornfully. "Look 'ere, now. This is +Gospel, and _I'm_ tellin' of yer. S'pose there _is_ a bullet about +with your name on it, but s'posing you shoot the other ---- first, and +there's to 'ell with yer Kismet. Gawd 'elps those that 'elp +themselves, I say. S'pose we 'it a Fritz now, under water--'oo's +Kismet is it? Never mind 'oo's arranged it or 'oo's down in the book +to go through it, the bloke that gets 'is doors closed first and 'as +the best trained crew is goin' to come 'ome and spin the yarn about +it. I say it may be written down as you say, but there's Someone +'oldin' the book, an' 'e says: 'Cross off that boat this time,' 'e +say. 'They've got the best lot aboard of 'em,' 'e'd say. Is it Kismet +if yer thrust collars go? Are you goin' to stop oilin' 'em because +it's in the book an' you can't alter it? Yer talkin' through yer neck. +Call it luck, if yer like. It's luck if we 'it a mine, and it's luck +if we don't; but if we met a Fritz to-night an' poop off the bow gun +an' miss--that's goin' to be our blanky fault, an' you can call it +any blanky name, but you won't alter it." + +"But you don't understand," said the Artificer. "I didn't----" + +"_Action Stations--Stand by all tubes._" The voice rang clearly from +the mouth of the voice-pipe, and the group leapt into activity. For +sixty seconds there was apparent pandemonium--the purr of the motors +rose to a quick hum, and the long tunnel of the hull rang with noises, +clatter and clang and hiss. The sounds stopped almost as suddenly as +they had begun, and the voices of men reporting "Ready" could be heard +beyond the high-pitched note of the motors. + +The big Torpedoman stretched across his tube to close a valve, and +caught the eye of the fourth participant in the recent debate. "Say, +Dusty," he whispered, "'_ere's_ Someone's Kismet--in this blanky tube, +an' I reckon I ain't forgot the detonator in 'er nose, neither." + + * * * * * + +The Captain lowered the periscope, his actions almost reverent in their +artificial calm. He looked up at the navigating officer a few feet away +and smiled. "Just turning to east," he said. "We'll be in range inside +three minutes." He glanced fore and aft the boat and then back at his +watch. "By gum," he said, "it's nice to have a good crew. I haven't had +to give a single order, and I wouldn't change a man of 'em." + + + + +LIGHT CAVALRY. + + +I. + +Peter Mottin was an acting Sub-Lieutenant, but even acting +Sub-Lieutenants from Whale Island may hunt if they can get the +requisite day's leave and can muster the price of a hired mount. The +hounds poured out of Creech Wood, and Mottin glowed with intense +delight as his iron-mouthed horse took the rails in and out of the +lane and followed the pack up the seventy-acre pasture from whence the +holloa had come. It was late in a February afternoon, and most of the +dispirited field had gone home, so that there was no crowd--and a +February fox on a good scenting day is a customer worth waiting for. +Mottin sat back as a five-foot cut and laid hedge grew nearer, and +blessed the owner of his mount as the big black cleared the jump with +half a foot to spare. Two more big fences, cut as level as a rule, and +the field was down to six, with three Hunt servants. The fox was +making for Hyden Wood, and scent was getting better every minute. A +clattering canter through a farmyard, and Mottin followed the huntsman +over a ramshackle gate on to grass again. The huntsman capped the +tail-hounds on as he galloped, and Mottin realised that if they were +going to kill before dark they would have to drive their fox fast. +Riding to his right he saw Sangatte--a destroyer officer, whom he knew +only by name, but whom he envied for the fact that he seemed able to +hunt when he liked and could afford to keep his own horses. As they +neared a ragged bullfinch hedge at the top of a long slope, he saw +Sangatte put on speed and take it right in the middle, head down and +forearm across his eyes. Mottin eased his horse to give the huntsman +room at the gate in the left-hand corner. The pilot's horse rapped the +top bar slightly, and as Mottin settled himself for the leap, he saw +the gate begin to swing open away from him. There was no time to +change his mind--he decided he must jump big and trust to luck, but +the black horse failed him. The hireling knew enough to think for +himself, and seeing the gate begin to swing, decided that a shorter +stride would be safer. The disagreement resulted--as such differences +of opinion are liable to do--in a crash of breaking wood and a +whirling, stunning fall. Mottin rose shakily on one leg, feeling as if +the ankle of the other was being drilled with red-hot needles, and +swore at the black horse as it galloped with trailing bridle down the +long stubble field towards Soberton Down. He saw Sangatte look back +and then wrench his brown mare round to ride off the hireling as it +passed. He caught the dangling reins and swung both horses round, and +came hurrying and impatient back. As he arrived he checked the mare +and turned in his saddle to watch the receding pack. + +"Come on," he said. "_Quick_--you'll catch 'em at Hyden." He turned +to look at Mottin by the gate-post, in irritation at feeling no snatch +at the black horse's rein. His face fell slightly. "Hullo--hurt?" he +said, and leapt from his mare. + +"Go on. Don't wait. Go _on_," said Mottin. "I'll be all right. You get +on--it's only my ankle." + +"Damn painful too, I expect. I'm not going on. They'll be at Butser +before I could catch them now, and I bet they whip off in the dark." +He threw the reins over the mare's head and left her standing. "Now," +he said. "It's your left ankle; come here to the near side, and put +your left knee on my hands and jump for it." + +Mottin complied, and to the accompaniment of a grunt and a +pain-expelled oath arrived back in the muddy saddle. + +"I say, this is good of you--you know," he said; "but you've----" + +"Cut it out--it won't be anything of a run, anyway," lied Sangatte +gloomily. + +"Come along--it's only three miles to Droxford, but you'll have to +walk all the way, and we'd better get on."... + + +II. + +The big seaplane circled low over the harbour and then headed seaward, +climbing slowly. There were two men aboard--a young Sub-Lieutenant as +pilot and Mottin as observer. Mottin sat crouched low and leaning +forward as he studied the chart-holder before him and scratched times +and notes in his log-book. They were off on a routine patrol, but +there was the additional interest to the trip that on "information +received" they were to pay a little more attention than usual to a +particular locality. + +From his seat Mottin could see nothing of the pilot but his head and +shoulders--a back view only, and that obscured by swathings of leather +and wool. The two men's heads were joined by a cumbersome arrangement +of listeners and tubes which, theoretically, made conversation +practicable. As a matter of fact, the invariable rule of repeating +every observation twice, and of adding embroidery to each repetition, +pointed to a discrepancy between the theory and practice of the +instrument. The machine was a big one, and its engines were in +proportion. The accommodation in the broad fuselage was considerable, +but on the present trip the missing units of the crew were accounted +for by an equal weight of extra petrol and T.N.T. "eggs." + +The morning had been hazy and they had delayed their start till nearly +noon. It was not as clear as it might be even then, for in a quarter +of an hour from leaving the slip the land was out of sight astern. At +a thousand feet the pilot levelled off and ceased to climb. He flew +mechanically, his head bent down to stare at the compass-card. At +times he fiddled with air and throttle, twisting his head to watch the +revolution indicator. The occasional bumping and rocking of the +machine he corrected automatically without looking up. He had long ago +arrived at the state of airmanship which makes a pilot into a +sensitive inclinometer, acting every way at once. + +Mottin finished his scribbling and sat up to look round. He raised +himself till he sat on the back of his seat, and began to sweep the +sea and horizon with a pair of large-field glasses. The wind roared +past him, pressing his arm to his side as he faced to one side or the +other, and making him strain the heavy glasses close to his eyes to +keep them steady. An hour after starting he touched the pilot on the +shoulder and shouted into his own transmitter. He waited a few seconds +and shouted again, with the conventional oath to drive the sound +along. The pilot nodded his swathed and helmeted head and swung the +machine round to a new course. Mottin crouched down again and began to +study his chart afresh. Navigation was easy so long as the weather was +clear, but with poor visibility, which might get worse instead of +better, he knew that it was remarkably easy to get lost in the North +Sea, and at this moment he wanted to see his landfall particularly +clearly. Five minutes later he saw it, and signalled a new course to +the pilot by a nudge and a jerk of his gloved hand. A low dark line +had appeared on the starboard bow, a line with tall spires and +chimneys standing up from it at close intervals. The seaplane banked a +little as they turned and headed away, leaving the land to recede and +fade on their quarter. The hazy sun was low in the west and the mist +was clearing. It had been none too warm throughout the journey, but it +was now distinctly cold, the chill of a winter evening striking +through fur and leather as if their clothes had been slit and +punctured in half a dozen places. + +Mottin had just slid back in his seat after a sweeping search of the +sea through his glasses, and was slowly winding, with cold fur-gloved +fingers, the neat carriage clock on the sloping board before him, when +he heard a yelping war-cry from the pilot and felt the machine dive +steeply and swerve to port. He half rose in his seat and then slipped +back to feel for his bomb-levers. The submarine was just breaking +surface eight hundred feet below and a mile ahead. As he looked she +tucked down her bow and slipped under again, having barely shown her +conning-tower clear of the short choppy waves. The pilot throttled +well down and glided over the smooth, ringed spot which marked where +she had vanished. As it slid past below them he opened up his engines +again and "zoomed" back to his height. He turned his head to look at +Mottin, but said nothing. Mottin made a circular motion with his hand +and they began a wide sweep round, climbing all the while. Mottin sat +back and thought hard. No, it had not been indecision that had +prevented him from dropping bombs then. He knew it was not that, but +the exact reasons which had flashed through his mind at the fateful +moment must be hunted out and marshalled again. He knew that his +second self, his wide-awake and infallible substitute who took over +command of his body in moments of emergency, had thought it all out in +a flash and had arrived at his decision for sound reasons. Yes, it was +clear now, but that confounded fighting substitute of his was just a +bit cold-blooded, he thought. They had petrol for the run home with +perhaps half an hour to spare. Fritz had not seen them, as his lid had +not opened--or at any rate if he had seen them through his periscope, +the fact of no bomb having been dropped would encourage him to think +that the seaplane had passed on unknowing. Of course they might have +let go bombs, but, well, Fritz must have been at anything down to 80 +feet at the moment they passed over him, and it was chancy shooting. +Yes, it was quite clear. Fritz should be up again in an hour (he +evidently wanted to come up), and if they were only high up and ready +they would get a fair chance at him. Of course, they would not get +home if they waited an hour; but if that cold-blooded second self of +his thought it the right thing and a proper chance to take, well, it +was so. Mottin looked over the side and wished it was not so loppy. A +long easy swell was nothing, but this short choppy sea was going to be +the devil. The pilot shouted something to him and pointed at the clock +and the big petrol tank overhead. Mottin nodded comprehension, and +shouted back. The Sub took a careful look overside and studied the +water a moment. Then he laughed back at Mottin, and shouted something +about bathing, which was presumably facetious, but which was lost in +the recesses of the headpieces. + +The sun was down on the horizon, and the hour had grown to a full +ninety minutes before the chance came. They had not worried about +clocks or thoughts of petrol after the first half-hour of circling. +They were "for it," anyhow, after that, and it was going to come in +the dark too, so that the question of whether it was going to be fifty +or a hundred miles from land did not make much difference. Almost +directly below them the long grey hull rose and grew clear, the +splashing waves making a wide area of white water show on each side of +her. The seaplane's engines stopped with startling suddenness, and to +the sound of a rushing wind in the wires and of ticking, swishing +propellers they began a two-thousand-feet spiral glide, coming from as +nearly overhead as the turning circle of the big machine would allow. +At two hundred feet the pilot eased his rudder and began a wider turn, +and then the German captain saw. He leapt for the conning-tower, +leaving a startled look-out man behind. The man tried to follow him +down, but the lid slammed before he could arrive at it. He turned and +looked helplessly at the big planes and body rushing down a hundred +yards astern. With his hands half raised and shoulders hunched up the +poor devil met his death, two huge bombs "straddling" the +conning-tower and bursting fairly on the hull as the boat started +under. Mottin had a vision of a glare of light from the rent hull, a +great rush of foaming, spouting air, and then a graceful knife-edge +stem, with the bulge of torpedo-tubes on each side of it, just showed +and vanished in the turmoil of broken water. The seaplane roared up +again, heading west, the young pilot--apparently oblivious to the fact +that he hardly expected to be alive till morning--displaying his +feelings on the subject of his late enemy by a series of violent +"switchbacks." + +Mottin checked him, rose, and began a careful look round. Any ship +would be welcome now, neutral or not; but this was an unfrequented +area to hope to be picked up in. The petrol might last five minutes or +half an hour--one could not be certain. The gauge was hardly accurate +enough in this old bus to work by. As he looked the engines gave a +premonitory splutter and then picked up again. Well, it was five +minutes, he reflected, not half an hour--that was all. The pilot +turned and headed up wind. With the engines missing more and more +frequently they glided down, making a perfect landing of the +"intentional pancake" order on the crest of a white-topped four-foot +wave. Instantly they began to feel the seas--the hard, rough, +senseless water that was so different to the air they had come from. +The machine made wicked weather of it, and it was obvious that she +could hardly last long. She lurched and rocked viciously, constraining +them to cling to the sides of the frail body. Mottin pulled off his +headpiece, and the pilot followed suit. + +"Well," said Mottin, "it was worth it--eh?" + +"By gum, yes! It was that, and I give you full numbers, sir. I thought +for a moment you had taken too long a chance, but you were right." + +A wave splashed heavily over the speaker and laid three inches of +water in a pool around his ankles. + +"This is going to be a short business, sir, unless we get busy." + +"I know," said Mottin. "Case of four anchors and wish for the day. Sea +anchor indicated, and mighty quick too."... + +An hour later it was pitch-dark, and a semi-waterlogged seaplane +drifted south, head to sea, bucketing her nose into the lop. Two +figures crouched together in the body of her, baling mechanically. On +the upper plane an electric torch glowed brightly, pointing westward. +The figures exchanged disjointed sentences as they baled, and +occasionally one of them would stretch his head up for a glance round +for possible passing lights. + +"Cheer up, Sub!" said Mottin. "Your teeth are chattering like the +deuce. Bale harder and get warm." + +"It's not the cold, it's the weather that's doing me in, sir. I'm so +damned sea-sick." + +"Yes, it's a filthy motion, but she's steadier than she was. 'Fraid +she's sinking." + +The Sub-Lieutenant ceased baling for a moment and looked into his +senior's face, dimly lit by the reflection from the torch overhead. +"Do you know, sir," he said, "I don't feel as bucked as I did? I +believe I've got half-way to cold feet about the show." + +"Do you know, Sub"--Mottin copied the hesitating voice--"I've had cold +feet the whole blinkin' time? If it wasn't for one thing I keep +thinking of, I'd be properly howling about it." + +"And what's that, sir?" + +"D'you remember a line of Kipling's in that 'Widow of sleepy Chester' +poem? It's about 'Fifty file of Burmans to open him Heaven's gate.' +Well, that's keeping me cheered up." + +"'Mm--that's true. How many do you think that boat carried?" + +"Round about forty--she was a big packet." + +"Only twenty file--still, that's good enough. Besides, they'd have +done damage to-morrow if we hadn't got them." + +"True for you, Sub--and they might have killed women on that trip. Now +they won't get the chance." + +"Twenty file. Ugh! I'll make 'em salute when I see them. Hullo! See +that, sir?" The two men rose to their knees and stared out to the +west. A bright glow showed beyond the horizon, and through it ran a +flicker of pulsating flashes of vivid orange light. The glow broke out +again a point to the northward, and the unmistakable beam of a +searchlight swung to the clouds and down again. As they looked, the +glow spread, and the rippling flashes as gun answered gun came into +view over their horizon. Mottin fumbled for the glasses, but found +them wet through and useless. The action was evidently coming their +way, and was growing into a pyrotechnic display such as few are +fortunate enough to see. + +"Destroyers--coming right over us--Very's pistol, quick! We may get a +chance here. Don't let the cartridges get wet, man--put 'em in your +coat." The guns began to bark clearly above the straining and bumping +noise of the crumbling seaplane, and a wildly-aimed shell burst on the +water half a mile to windward. Both men were standing up now, staring +at the extraordinary scene. A flotilla of destroyers passed each side +of them, one leading the other by nearly a mile. The searchlights and +gun-flashes lit the sea between the opposing lines, and the vicious +shells sent columns of shining water up around the rapt spectators, or +whipped overhead in a continued stuttering shriek. + +A big destroyer passed at half a cable's length in a quivering halo of +light of her own making. The short choppy beam sea sent a steady sheet +of spray across her forecastle, a sheet that showed red in the light of +the guns. As she passed the Sub-Lieutenant raised his hand above his +head, and a Very's light sailed up into the air, showing every detail of +the battered seaplane with startling clearness for a few seconds. A +searchlight whirled round from the destroyer, steadied blindingly on +their faces a moment, and was switched off on the instant. As swiftly as +it had approached, the fight flickered away to the eastward, till the +last gleam was out of sight, and the two wet and aching men crouched +back into the slopping water to continue their baling. + +"If they _do_ find us, it'll be rather luck, sir," said the younger +man. "She isn't going to last much longer." + +"Long enough, I reckon. But they may go donkey's miles in a running +fight like that. Is that petrol tank free?" + + * * * * * + +"Yes, I couldn't get the union-nut off--it was burred; so I broke the +pipe and bent it back on itself. It'll hold all right, I think--at +least it will only leak slowly. Hullo, she's going, sir." + +"Not quite. Pass that tank aft and we'll crawl out on the tail. +That'll be the last bit under, and we may as well use her all we can." + + * * * * * + +With gasps and strainings they half-lifted, half-floated the big tank +along till they had it jammed on end between the rudder and the +control-wires. They straddled the sloping tail, crouching low to avoid +the smack of the breaking seas, their legs trailing in the icy water. +With frozen fingers the Sub-Lieutenant removed two Very's cartridges +from his breast-pocket and tucked them inside his leather waistcoat. + +A flurry of snow came down wind. The two were too wet already to +notice it, but as it grew heavier the increased darkness made Mottin +lift his head and look round. At that moment a gleam of brightness +showed through to windward; as he looked it faded and vanished. He +leaned aft and shouted weakly-- + +"Come on, man--wake up! Fire another one. They're here!" + +It seemed an age to him before the pistol was loaded, and his heart +sank as a dull click indicated an unmistakable misfire. He watched the +last cartridge inserted with dispassionate interest. If one was wet, +the other was almost certain to be, and--Bang! The coloured ball of +fire soared up into the driving snow, and the pistol slipped from the +startled Sub-Lieutenant's hand and shot overboard. The searchlight +came on again and grew stronger and nearer, and as the glare of it +became intolerable, a tall black bow came dipping and swaying past at +a few yards' range. Mottin almost let his will-power go at that +point--the relief was too great. He had a confused memory afterwards +of crashing wood as the tailplane ground against a steel side, and of +barking his shins as he was hauled across a wire guard-rail and +dropped on a very nubbly deck. The wardroom seemed a blaze of intense +light after the darkness outside, and the temporary surgeon who took +charge of him the most sensible and charming person in the Service. + + * * * * * + +"Sit down--take your coat off--lap this down. That's right. Now, I +have two duties in this ship--I'm doctor and I'm the wine caterer. +They are not incompatible. You will therefore go to bed now in the +Captain's cabin, and you'll have a hot toddy as soon as you're there; +come along now and get your clothes off. Your mate is in the First +Lieutenant's cabin, and he won't wake up till morning." + +Twenty minutes later Mottin, from beneath a pile of blankets, heard a +tinkle of curtain rings and looked out. A muffled, snow-covered figure +entered quietly and began to peel off a lammy coat. Mottin coughed. + +"Hullo! How are you feeling? I've just come for a change of clothes. I +won't be long--I'm Sangatte. No, that's all right. I won't be turning in +to-night; we're going right up harbour, and I'll be busy till daylight." + +He bustled round the chest of drawers, pulling out woollen scarves, +stockings, &c., and talking rapidly. "Lucky touch our finding you. I +noted position when your first light went up, but as the chase looked +like running on ninety mile yet, I didn't expect to find you. Your +joss was in, because the snow came down and they put up a smoke-screen +and ceased fire, so we lost touch, and I hadn't far to come back to +look for you. Got a Fritz, did you? Good man! We'll have a bottle on +your decoration when we get in. The Huns? Yes, they lost their rear +ship right off, and the others were plastered good and plenty. We lost +one on a mine, but we took the crew off and sank her. I sank your +'plane just now--tied a pig of ballast to her and chucked it over. I +thought you might have left some papers--oh! you've got 'em, have +you? That's good." + +"Yes, they're in my coat pocket. I say, haven't I seen you before? I +seem to remember you. Do you hunt?" Mottin stretched his legs out +sleepily as he spoke. + +"Yes--met you with the Hambledon or Cattistock, I expect. Haven't been +on a horse for all of three years, though; and I don't suppose there'll +be much doing that way for a long time, now they're putting half the +country under plough. S'long. I'm for the bridge; ring that bell if you +want anything. The Doc.'s got one or two wounded forrard, so he'll be +busy, but my servant'll look out for you." The curtain clashed back, and +Mottin, turning over, slid instantly into a log-like sleep. + + + + +A TRINITY. + + + The way of a ship at racing speed + In a bit of a rising gale, + The way of a horse of the only breed + At a Droxford post-and-rail, + The way of a brand-new aeroplane + On a frosty winter dawn. + You'll come back to those again; + Wheel or cloche or slender rein + Will keep you young and clean and sane, + And glad that you were born. + + The power and drive beneath me now are above the power of kings, + It's mine the word that lets her loose and in my ear she sings-- + "Mark now the way I sport and play with the rising hunted sea, + Across my grain in cold disdain their ranks are hurled at me. + But down my wake is a foam-white lake, the remnant of their line, + That broke and died beneath my pride--your foemen, man, and mine." + The perfect tapered hull below is a dream of line and curve, + An artist's vision in steel and bronze for gods and men to serve. + If ever a statue came to life, you quivering slender thing, + It ought to be you--my racing girl--as the Amazon song you sing. + + * * * * * + + Down the valley and up the slope we run from scent to view. + "Steady, you villain--you know too much--I'm not so wild as you; + You'll get me cursed if you catch him first--there's at least a mile + to go, + So swallow your pride and ease your stride, and take your fences + slow. + Your high-pricked ears as the jump appears are comforting things to + see; + Your easy gallop and bending neck are signals flying to me. + You wouldn't refuse if it was wire with calthrops down in front, + And there we are with a foot to spare--you best of all the Hunt!" + Great sloping shoulders galloping strong, and a yard of + floating tail, + A fine old Irish gentleman, and a Hampshire post-and-rail. + + * * * * * + + The sun on the fields a mile below is glinting off the grass + That slides along like a rolling map as under the clouds I pass. + The early shadows of byre and hedge are dwindling dark below + As up the stair of the morning air on my idle wheels I go,-- + Nothing to do but let her alone--she's flying herself to-day, + Unless I chuck her about a bit--there isn't a bump or sway. + So _there's_ a bank at ninety-five--and here's a spin and a + spiral dive, + And here we are again. + And _that's_ a roll and twist around, and that's the sky and there's + the ground, + And I and the aeroplane + Are doing a glide, but upside-down, and that's a village and that's + a town-- + And now we're rolling back. + And _this_ is the way we climb and stall and sit up and beg on + nothing at all, + The wires and strainers slack, + And now we'll try and be good some more, and open the throttle and + hear her roar + And steer for London Town. + For there never a pilot yet was born who flew a machine on a frosty + morn + But started stunting soon, + To feel if his wires were really there, or whether he flew on ice or + air, + Or whether his hands were gloved or bare, + Or he sat in a free balloon. + + + + +IN THE MORNING. + + + Back from the battle, torn and rent, + Listing bridge and stanchions bent + By the angry sea. + By Thy guiding mercy sent, + Fruitful was the road we went-- + Back from battle we. + + If Thou hadst not been, O Lord, behind our feeble arm, + If Thy hand had not been there to slam the lyddite home, + When against us men arose and sought to work us harm, + We had gone to death, O Lord, in spouting rings of foam. + + Heaving sea and cloudy sky + Saw the battle flashing by, + As Thy foemen ran. + By Thy grace, that made them fly, + We have seen two hundred die + Since the fight began. + + If our cause had not been Thine, for Thy eternal Right, + If the foe in place of us had fought for Thee, O Lord! + If Thou hadst not guided us and drawn us there to fight, + We never should have closed with them--Thy seas are dark and broad. + + Through the iron rain they fled, + Bearing home the tale of dead, + Flying from Thy sword. + After-hatch to fo'c'sle head, + We have turned their decks to red, + By Thy help, O Lord! + + It was not by our feeble sword that they were overthrown, + But Thy right hand that dashed them down, the servants of the proud; + It was not arm of ours that saved, but Thine, O Lord, alone, + When down the line the guns began, and sang Thy praise aloud. + + Sixty miles of running fight, + Finished at the dawning light, + Off the Zuider Zee. + Thou that helped throughout the night + Weary hand and aching sight, + Praise, O Lord, to Thee. + + + + +AN AFFAIR OF OUTPOSTS. + + +The wardroom of the Depot ship was just emptying as the late-breakfast +party lit their pipes and cigarettes and headed for the smoking-room +next door, when a signalman brought the news in. The Commander, +standing by the radiator, took the pad from the man's hand and read it +aloud. He raised his voice for the first few words, then continued in +his usual staccato tones as the silence of his audience showed that +they were straining their ears in fear of missing a word:-- + + "_Lyddite_, _Prism_, _Axite_, and _Pebble_ in action last night + with six enemy destroyers--_Pebble_ sunk--fifty-seven survivors + aboard _Lyddite_--enemy lost two sunk, possibly three--_Lyddite_ + with prisoners and _Prism_ with _Axite_ in tow arriving forenoon + to-day." + +There was a moment's pause as the Commander handed the signal back, +and then half a dozen officers spoke at once. The Fleet-Surgeon was +not one of them. He gathered up his two juniors with a significant +glance, as one sees a hostess signal to her Division as the +dessert-talk flags, and the three vanished through the door to get to +work on their grim preparations. The Engineer officers conferred for a +minute in low tones and then followed them out. The signal had given +clearer data for the workers in flesh and bone to act on than it had +for those who work in metals, and there was nothing for the latter to +do but to get their men ready and to guess at probabilities. The +remainder of the Mess broke into a buzz of conversation: "_Axite_, she +must be pretty well hashed up; it must have been gun-fire, a torpedo +would have sunk her.... Rot! why should it? What about the _Salcombe_ +or the _Ventnor_? _They_ got home.... Yes, but not from so far out, +and there's a sea running outside too.... Well, the Noorder Diep isn't +a hundred miles, and that must be where...." + +The Commander beckoned the First Lieutenant to him, as that officer +was rising from his chair at the writing-table. "You'd better warn the +Gunner, Borden, that the divers may be needed; and tell my messenger +as you go out that I want to see the Boatswain and Carpenter +too--thank you." He turned to the ship's side and looked out through +the scuttle at the dancing, sunlit waters of the harbour. He had +supervised the work of preparation for assisting and patching lame +ducks more than once before, and he knew that his subordinates needed +little assistance from him. What was troubling his mind was the +question of the casualties. The _Pebble_ was gone, so there was no +need for spare hands to be provided for her, while her survivors were +actually a gain. They would not be fit for work for a bit, though, a +good few of them probably wounded, and the remainder perhaps needing +treatment after immersion in a December sea. Then the three others--it +sounded like a hard-fought action, and hard fights meant losses. That +was the worst of these destroyer actions, the casualties were mostly +good men, and it took so long to train good ratings. If only one saved +the officers and men it wouldn't really matter how many destroyers +were lost, he reflected, as he walked out of the mess towards his +cabin and the little group of Warrant and Petty officers who awaited +him by the doorway. + +It was barely an hour later, and the bustle of preparation aboard the +Depot ship was still in progress when they came in sight. The outer +forts had reported them as approaching the entrance, and the next news +was good also, for it was simply the deduction on the part of the +watching ships' companies, when they saw the big black-and-yellow +salvage tugs that had been out since dawn come chugging up harbour +alone, that the victors had disdained assistance. Then the _Lyddite_ +showed her high bow and unmistakable funnels as she swung round the +entrance shoals and steadied up harbour at a leisurely ten knots. At +that distance she looked dirty and sea-worn, but intact. Close astern +of her came _Prism_ and _Axite_, and as they showed, the watchers +involuntarily caught their breaths. + +The _Prism_ looked queer and foreign somehow, with no foremast, a bare +skeleton of a bridge, and a shapeless heap where the forward funnel +had stood. The _Axite_ looked just what she was--a mere battered hull, +with very little standing above the level of her deck, her stern +nearly awash, and her bow bent and torn as if some giant hand had +gripped and twisted it. As the pair of cripples neared the dock +entrance, two smaller tugs which had followed astern came hurrying up +to close on the _Axite's_ sides, while the towing hawser that had been +watched with such anxiety through three cold and stormy watches +splashed in the churned-up water under the _Prism's_ counter. The +_Prism_ increased speed slightly, and up against the blustering wind +came the faint sound of cheering from the cruisers down the harbour as +she passed them. She eased down into station astern of the _Lyddite_, +and the Yeoman of Signals on the Depot ship's bridge shifted his +telescope from the shaking canvas of the wind-dodger to the steadier +support of a stanchion. + +"What's she like--can you make 'er out?" A Leading Telegraphist had +walked out from the wireless office, and, in obvious hopes of getting +hold of the telescope, was standing at his elbow. + +"Pretty sight, I don't think," replied the Yeoman grimly. "Dirty work +for the hospital there, and I reckon it's 'Port Watch look for +messmates'--all along under the bridge she's been catching it, and I +can't see--Yes, O.K.--He's up there on the bridge--_Who?_ The skipper, +of course. Mister Calton, Commander--begging his pardon. Me and him +were in the old _Cantaloup_ two years. Gawd! but ain't they been in a +dust-up! What do you say? _Lyddite?_" + +He turned to look as the big destroyer passed, half-raised his glass, +and then lowered it. There was enough for his naked eye to see to +discourage him from a closer view. Her decks were crowded with men, +lying, standing, or sitting down. The white bandages showed up clearly +against the general background of dull grime, and the bandages were +many. A torpedo-tube pointing up like an A.A. gun, and a dozen or so +of splinter holes in funnel and casing, showed that some, at least, of +the wounded were her own. About the casing, between the wounded, lay +dozens of dull brass cartridge-cases, and aft--a curious touch of +triviality--two seamen and a steward were emptying boxes of smashed +glass and crockery overside. A few men waved and shouted in reply as +the Depot ship roared a welcome across to her, but the greater number +were silent. The two scarred and blood-spotted craft swung gently in +to the jetty, where the lines of ambulances and stretchers awaited +them, and as the first heaving-lines flew, the Yeoman turned to the +Telegraphist with a look almost of pride on his dark saturnine face-- + +"Well, I'm ----," he said admiringly, "if that ain't swank! Did you +see 'em? Why, stiffen the Dutch--they've got new Sunday Ensigns +hoisted to come up harbour with, and"--he swung round and levelled his +glass at the _Axite_, now almost hidden in the smoke and steam of the +group of tugs around her at the lock gates--"I'm damned if she ain't +got a new one up too. Here, have a look at it, man. It's on a boathook +staff sticking up in the muzzle of the high-angle gun----" + + + + +1917. + + +The "liaison officer" felt distinctly nervous as his steamboat +approached the gangway. He had no qualms as to his capabilities of +carrying out the work he was detailed for--that of acting as +signals-and-operations-interpreter aboard the Flotilla leader of a +recently allied destroyer division--but the fact that he had been told +that he must be prepared to be tactful weighed heavily on his mind. +His ideas on the subject of Americans were somewhat hidebound, but at +the same time very vague. Would they spring the statement on him that +they had "come over to win the War for you," or would they refer at +once to their War of Independence? Did the Yankees hate all +Britishers, or---- His boat bumped alongside the neat teak ladder, +and he noted with a seaman's appreciation the perfectly-formed +coachwhipping and Turks' Heads on the rails. A moment later he was +standing on a very clean steel deck, gravely returning the salute of +what appeared to be a muster of all the officers in the ship. + +A tall commander took a pace forward. "_Malcolm_," he said, "I'm +Captain--glad to meet you." The Englishman saluted, and they shook +hands. "My name's Jackson," he replied, and turned as the American, +taking his arm, ran through a rapid introduction to the other +officers. Each of these repeated the formula, accompanied by the quick +bow and handshake. Jackson followed suit as best he could, and began +to feel that on such formal occasions he had the makings of a real +_attache_ or diplomatist in him. + +A few minutes, and he found himself sitting in a long-chair in a +wardroom which might have been a counterpart of his own, and accepting +a long cigar from the box handed him. "Did you have a good trip +over?" he ventured. + +"We sure did, and saw nix--not even a U-boat. Had a bit of a gale +first day out, but it blew off quick. But say, there wasn't a German +ship for three thousand miles. Don't you ever see some about?" + +"Well, you see--er--no. They only show out now and then, and it's only +for a few hours when they do. Of course, there are plenty of Fritzes, +but they keep under most of the time--you don't see them much." + +"Well, we thought it real slow, didn't we, Commander? We were just +ripe for some gunplay, but we never got a chance to pull." + +Jackson looked across at the Commander and smiled. "We felt that way +for a long time, sir. But now we just go on hoping and keeping ready. +We've had so many false alarms, you see." + +The Commander laughed. "That's one on you, Benson," he said. "We won't +get so excited next time we see the Northern Lights." + +There was a general shout of laughter, and Jackson turned cold. This, he +thought, was a little early for him to start putting his foot in it. The +officer called Benson, however, did not appear to be about to throw over +the alliance just yet. He walked to the sideboard, and returned with a +couple of lumps of sugar in his hand. "Lootenant," he said gravely, "in +the absence of stimulants in the U.S. Navy, I can only give you what +we've got. We've no liquor aboard, but we've sure got sugar." + +"Yes," said the Commander. "We're all on the water-waggon here, +whether we like the ride or not." + +Jackson sat up in his chair and shed his official pose. He could, at any +rate, talk without reserve on Service subjects. "Well, sir," he said, +"I'm not a teetotaller, but it doesn't worry me to go teetotal if I've +got to. I don't worry about it if I'm in training for anything; and the +fact is--well, if there was a referendum, or something of that sort, in +the Navy as to whether we were to be compulsory teetotallers or not, I +believe the majority would vote for 'no drinks.' _I_ would, anyway, and +I'm what you'd call an average drinker." + +"They didn't ask us to vote any, but if they had--in war-time--I guess +we'd have voted the same way. If you can't get it you don't want it, +and we've kind of got used to water now. And so your name's Jackson? +Any relation?" + +Jackson's brain worked at high pressure. This was a poser. Sir Henry +Jackson? Stonewall? How many noted Jacksons were there? He played for +safety and replied with a negative. + +"Ah, well! there's perhaps some connection you don't know of," said +the Commander encouragingly. "Which part of England are your folk +from? Birmingham. Well, of course, it's a big family.... My father +knew him well, and was with him through the Valley Campaign." + +Jackson sighed with relief. "You're from Virginia then, sir?" + +"No, sir--I'm from Maryland. My father joined the Army of Virginia +two days before Bull Run." + +"Are you all Southerners here, then?" + +"We're sure _not_," came a chorus of voices. "Nix on Secesh ... John +Brown's Body...." Jackson developed nerves again. He felt as if he had +asked a Nationalist meeting to join him in drinking confusion to the +Pope. The company did not seem disposed to let him off, however. + +"Which do you think ought to have won, Lootenant? You were +neutral--let's hear it." + +Jackson looked apologetically at the Commander. + +"Well, sir, I think the North _had_ to win; and" (he hurried on) "it's +just as well she did, because if she hadn't there wouldn't be any +U.S.A. now--only a lot of small states." + +"That's so; but there need not have been any war at all." + +"There needn't, sir; but it made the U.S.A. all the same. The big +event of the Franco-Prussian War wasn't the surrender at Sedan; it was +the crowning of the German Emperor at Versailles. And in the Civil +War--well, it made one nation of the Americans in the same way as the +other did of the Germans." + +"Well, Lootenant, if wars are just to make nations into one, what was +the good of our wars with you?" + +Jackson was getting over his self-consciousness, and it was dawning on +him that the American Navy has a method of "drawing" very similar to +that in use in his own. + +"They were a lot of use," he protested. "We sent German troops against +you, and you killed lots of them." + +There was a general laugh. + +"Say, Jackson," came a voice, "this little old country of yours isn't +doing much with the Germans now except kill them. Say, she's great! +You're doing all the work, and you've kept on telling us you're doing +nix. Your papers just talk small, as if your Army was only a +Yale-Princetown football crowd, and you were the coon and not the Big +Stick of the bunch that's in it." + +"Well, you see, we don't like talking about ourselves except to just +buck our own people up." + +Jackson's tone as he said this was, I regret to say, just what yours +or mine would have been. It could only be described as "smug." + +"You sure don't. We like to say what we're doing when we come from New +York." + +Jackson prepared for an effort of tact. "I hear," he said, "you've got +quite a lot of troops across already." + +They told him--and his eyes opened. + +"_What!_" he said. "And how many----?" He digested the answers for a +moment, and decided that his store of tact could be pigeon-holed again +for a while. "But what about--your papers haven't--I don't call that +talking much. We still think you're just beginning." + +"So we are,--we've hardly started. But our papers were given the wise +word, and they don't talk war secrets." + +Jackson readjusted his ideas slightly, and his attitude deflated +itself. The transportation of the First Expeditionary Force had been +talked of as a big thing, but this--and he had until then heard no +whisper of it. + +"And the country?" he asked. "What about all your pro-Germans and +aliens?" + +"They don't," came the answer. "What do you think of Wilson now?" +Jackson edged away to cover again. "He's a very fine statesman, and a +much bigger man than we thought him once." + +"Same here; and he knows his America. He waited and he waited, and all +the time the country was just getting more raw about the Germans, and +then when he was good and ready he came in; and I guess now he's got +the country _solid_." + +Jackson pondered this for a moment, studying the clean-cut young +faces--all of the universal "Naval" stamp--around him. + +"I don't know," he said slowly, "that it wouldn't have been better for +us if we'd been able to stop out a few months ourselves at first. It +would have made _us_ more solid too. But we simply had to come in at +once." + +"You had; and if you hadn't, we'd have talked at you some." + +Jackson laughed. "What! 'Too proud to fight,' and all that sort of +thing? Yes, we'd have deserved it too. I say, what a shame Admiral +Mahan died right at the beginning! There's nobody to take his place +and write this war up." + +"Yes, he'd have been over here first tap of the gong. And he'd have +seen it all for himself, and given you Britishers and us lectures on +the war of 1812--and every other war too." + +"Yes, it's a great pity. He taught us what sea-power was, and till +then we hardly knew we had it at all." + +"Well, he taught you enough to get us busy mailing you paper about the +blockade last year." + +Jackson grinned. "You couldn't say much. You made all the precedents +yourselves when you blockaded the South in '61. We only had to refer +you to your own letters to get out of the argument." + +The First Lieutenant beckoned for the cigar box again. "You knew too +much diplomatic work for us in those days. We were new to that card +game. But I'd sooner hear our talk now than the sort of gentle +breathing of your folks when it comes to diplomacy." + +"Never mind," said Jackson. "We're getting better. We'll have an +autocracy, like you, before the war's over, instead of the democracy +we've got now." + +The circle settled down and waited. This was evidently not an unarmed +foe, in the ancient Anglo-Saxon game. + +"Amurrica's the only real democracy in the universe," said an +incautious voice. Two heads turned towards the speaker, and several +pairs of eyes spoke volumes. + +"I beg your pardon," said Jackson. "America's a great country, but as +you told me just now, she's solid. That means she's so keen on getting +on with the work that she's chosen a boss and told him to go ahead and +give his orders, and so long as he does his best to get on with the +work, the people aren't going to quarrel with him. Now we are not +really solid, just because we're too much of a democracy." + +"Say, you wouldn't think that if you'd been over and seen our last +elections; but there's sense in it, all the same. But Lloyd +George--isn't he the same sort of Big Stick over here?" + +"You read our political papers and see," said Jackson. "Do you take +much interest in politics in your Navy?" + +"Do we hell--does yours?" + +"Not a bit, except to curse at them. Navies are outside politics." + +"Except the German's, and their army and navy and politics are all the +same thing; and they'll all come down together, too." + +"Yes, but it's going to take some tough scrapping to do it. Let's hope +no one starts fighting over the corpse when she's beaten." + +"Well, I guess you won't, and we won't. We've both got all the land we +can do with, and if there are any colonies to hand out after, we +won't mind who gets 'em so long as the Kaiser doesn't. What we ought +to do is to join England in a policing act for the world, and just +keep them all from fighting." + +"That'd be no good. The rest of them would combine against us. It +would only mean a different Balance of Power." + +"Oh! Now you're talking European. We stand out of the old-world +Balance." + +"You can't now. You've got hitched up in it, and you'll find you're +tangled when you want to get back." + +"We sure won't. We'll pull out when this round-up's over--you watch us." + +The Commander glanced at his watch and rose. "Dinner's at 'half-six,'" +he said. "You'd better let me show you the way to your room." + +Jackson rose and followed him aft to the spare cabin. "Here you are," +said the American. "Hope you'll be comfortable. The boys will do their +best to make your stay here real home-like, and I hope you'll stay +just as long as you can." + +"I sure will, sir," came the answer, in a voice that was fast losing +its English drawl; and Jackson, alone with his thoughts, stared at the +door-curtain, and wondered why on earth it should have been considered +necessary to tell him that a supply of tact would be useful to him in +his new job. + + + + +IN FORTY WEST. + + + We are coming from the ranch, from the city and the mine, + And the word has gone before us to the towns upon the Rhine; + As the rising of the tide + On the Old-World side, + We are coming to the battle, to the Line. + + From the valleys of Virginia, from the Rockies in the North, + We are coming by battalions, for the word was carried forth: + "We have put the pen away + And the sword is out to-day, + For the Lord has loosed the Vintages of Wrath." + + We are singing in the ships as they carry us to fight, + As our fathers sang before us by the camp-fires' light; + In the wharf-light glare + They can hear us Over There, + When the ships come steaming through the night. + + Right across the deep Atlantic where the _Lusitania_ passed, + With the battle-flag of Yankee-land a-floating at the mast, + We are coming all the while, + Over twenty hundred mile, + And we're staying to the finish, to the last. + + We are many--we are one--and we're in it overhead, + We are coming as an Army that has seen its women dead, + And the old Rebel Yell + Will be loud above the shell + When we cross the top together, seeing red. + + + + +A RING AXIOM. + + + When the pitiless gong rings out again, and they whip your chair + away, + When you feel you'd like to take the floor, whatever the crowd + should say, + When the hammering gloves come back again, and the world goes round + your head, + When you know your arms are only wax, your hands of useless lead, + When you feel you'd give your heart and soul for a chance to clinch + and rest, + And through your brain the whisper comes, + "Give in, you've done your best," + Why, stiffen your knees and brace your back--and take my word + as true-- + _If the man in front has got you weak, he's just as tired as + you_. + He can't attack through a gruelling fight and finish as he began; + He's done more work than you to-day--you're just as fine a man. + So call your last reserve of pluck--he's careless with his chin-- + You'll put it across him every time--Go in--Go in--_Go in!_ + + + + +CHANCES. + + +The boxing-stage was raised a clear three and a half feet above the +deck, and the mat showed glaringly white in the northern sunshine. The +corner-posts were padded and wound with many layers of red and blue +bunting. A glance round showed a great amphitheatre of faces, rising +tier on tier up to the crouching figures of men on the main-derrick, +funnel-casings, and masts. The spectators numbered, perhaps, close on +three thousand, and there was hardly a man among them who had not +qualified as a critic by personal experience at the game. The last two +competitors had just left the ring in a storm of hand-clapping, and +the white-sweatered seconds ceased their professional chatter and +their basin-splashing employment to jump up and place the chairs back +against the corner-posts as the next two officers entered. + +Lieutenant Cairnley of H.M. T.B.D. ---- pulled the loose sleeves of +his monkey-jacket across his chest and stretched out his legs as he +sat down in the Blue corner. He looked across at his opponent, who was +standing talking in a low voice to a second. Yes, he was evidently +only just inside the middle-weight limit, and he, Cairnley, must be +giving away all of half a stone. Still, that was half a stone less to +carry about the ring, and he felt really fit and well-trained. An +officer was standing in the ring, with a paper in one hand, and the +other raised to call for silence. + +"First round of the Officers' Middle-weights. In the Red corner, +Lieutenant Santon of the----, in the Blue corner, Lieutenant Cairnley +of the----." He slipped under the ropes and jumped down from the stage +as the voice of the timekeeper followed his own--"Seconds out!" +Cairnley felt the coat plucked from his shoulders, and he stood up as +his chair was drawn away. "_Clang!_" went the heavy gong, and he +walked forward with his right hand out and his eyes on his opponent's +chest, in the midst of a great silence. As their gloves touched, +Cairnley jumped quickly to one side and began his invariable habit of +working round to his opponent's left hand. He was not allowed much +time for "routine work." He had an impression of a looming figure +getting larger, a whirl of feinting, and he was being rushed back +across the ring in a storm of punches. His habit of keeping his chin +down, shoulders up, and elbows in, saved him. He felt a thrill of +respect for Santon's punch as his head rocked from heavy hook-blows on +either side, and then he was inside his opponent's elbows, working his +head forward, and lowering his right for a body punch before they +struck the ropes. As he felt their springing contact at his back, he +stiffened up and pushed his man away. The recoil of the hemp assisted +him, and Santon gave ground a yard. Cairnley jumped at him, and, +taking an even chance, sent a straight right over, which landed +cleanly on the mouth. His left followed at once, but only touched +lightly. Santon gave ground again, and the lighter man slid after him, +sending a long left home to the nose. Cairnley thrilled as it landed. +This man was strong, he felt, but not quick enough in defence. He +half-feinted with his right, and sent his left out again. As the punch +extended he slightly lifted his chin, and the ring whirled round him +as he took a tremendous cross-counter that came in over his elbow. He +came forward quickly to get to close quarters, but his opponent had no +intention of letting him. There was a whirl of gloves and a sound of +heavy, grunting hitting, and Cairnley found himself on his hands and +knees, with a very groggy feeling in his head, looking across at +Santon's white knees by the ropes at the far side of the ring. He +stretched his neck, took a long breath, and rose shakily. He did not +feel as shaky as he looked, for he had been in the ring before, and +knew that a knock-down blow sometimes entraps the optimistic giver of +it into sudden defeat, but in this case he was engaged with a boxer +who took no chances. Santon approached quickly and began rapid +feinting just outside hitting distance. Cairnley gave ground slightly +and waited for the rush. This chap had a wicked right, he reflected, +and he did not want to get caught napping again. Then Santon was on +him slamming in lefts and rights, and working furiously to get him +into a corner. Cairnley stooped and struggled to get in close. A +muscular change in the body a foot from his eyes gave him warning of +an approaching upper-cut, and he brought his right glove in front of +his face in time to stop it. He felt Santon's left on the back of his +head, and instantly shifted feet and escaped round his opponent's left +side. As he shifted he jerked a hard, short left punch into the mark, +and then repeated the blow. Santon broke away, and received a +perfectly-timed straight left on the nose as the gong rang. There was +a storm of applause as the men went to their corners, for Cairnley's +recovery had been well guarded, and his quick hitting at the end of +the round showed that he had not lost much speed. He lay back in his +chair while his seconds fussed around him, and thought hard. That +right cross-counter of Santon's was certainly a beauty, so much so +that it must be his favourite punch. Could he be absolutely certain of +its being produced if he gave it the same chance? Well, he had to win +this on a knock-out, or not at all. He could not pick up all the +points he had lost in the first round with only two to go, so it was a +case of chancing it on his brains alone. Yes, he would just check his +idea once, and if that proved that Santon would use the same punch for +the same lead, he would go all out on the next. _Clang!_ He rose and +walked straight forward to meet his man. At six-feet range he jumped +in and drove his left for the mark. It did not land true, but it +enabled him to close and start a succession of furious body punches. +The two hammering, gasping white figures reeled about the ring for +half a minute, heads down and arms working like pistons. + +Cairnley knew that his man was too strong for him at that game, but for +that round, brain and not muscle was his guide, and he wanted Santon to +be warmed up and made to act by habit and use. They locked in a clinch, +and a moment later broke clear at the word of the Referee--the first he +had spoken in that fight. For a second they stood on guard swaying from +side to side as they waited for an opening. Then Cairnley leaped in and +sent out a full straight left. Even with his chin tucked well down he +felt the jar of the right that slid again over his elbow, and striking +full on the cheek, made his head ring and his neck ache. He stopped the +left that followed, then landed on the face with his own left and closed +again to hammer in short arm punches. He felt as he did so that the work +he was engaged on must be done soon, as at this high-speed work he would +not have the strength for a hard punch for long. Santon appeared to be a +little inclined for a rest, too, for it was he who clinched this time. +Cairnley rested limply against him and took a long breath as the voice +of the Referee called them apart. He caught his breath again and called +up all his reserve strength as they posed at long range, then he jumped +forward as before, sent his left out three-quarters of the way, and +showed his chin clear of his chest. Without a check in the movement his +left dropped, his body pivoted, and he sent a full "haymaker" right up +and across to the half-glimpsed head in front of him. A bony right wrist +glanced from the top of his bent head, and at the same instant a jar, +from his right knuckles to his back, told him that brains had beaten +skill. He slipped aside, his hands mechanically raised in defence, and +stumbled over Santon's falling body. As he scrambled up to cross the +ring he looked back, and knew at once that not ten nor twenty seconds +would be enough for that limp figure to recover in. + + +II. + +"Yes, I've got leave now, and Cairnley's in hospital; he had a couple of +splinters in him, and they packed him off, though he wanted to get +leave and treat himself. The old packet's got to be just about rebuilt +from the deck up, and he's certain to get a bigger one instead. He's +going to take me on with him,--good thing for me,--as I'll be pretty +young to be Number One of one of the Alpha class ships. I tell you, it +was a devilish funny show, and all over in a second. It came on absolute +pea-soup at four and we had only heard the guns in the action. Never saw +a thing. We had been out away from the line four hours. Had nothing but +wireless touch to tell us they had got into a mix-up. We went to +stations at full speed trying to close on them, and we'd hardly got +ready when the Hun showed up four hundred yards off. My word! she was +smart on it. She was only a cruiser, but in the fog she showed up like +the _Von der Tann_, and she was going all of twenty-four. She let fly at +the moment we saw her, and she spun round and charged right off. We let +go too as she fired, but her turning to ram saved her. We turned too and +bolted, and she just cut every darned thing down from the casing up. +The mast went on the first salvo, one funnel and most of the guns. The +shooting was just lovely, and if it hadn't been such close range we'd +have been shot down in one act. As it was, they just shaved us clean as +if we'd gone full speed under a low-level bridge. At six hundred yards +we could only see her gun-flashes, and we yanked round across her bow +and opened out. The skipper gave her five minutes and then levelled up +on the same course we had been on before, and eased a bit to keep +station on her beam. We did a bit of clearing up and he sent for me. He +was on the bridge--which had damn little left on it, bar him,--it was a +proper wreck--and told me to arrange hands to shout orders to the +engine-room if required, as the telegraphs were gone. The wheel was all +right--or at least the gearing was,--the wheel itself had only a bit of +rim and two spokes on it. He told me to get what fish we could fire set +for surface, and that he was going to go for her again and fire at +twenty-five yards. I thought he was mad, but I went down and got 'em +ready. (The gunner was killed.) I shouted up to him when I had done, and +had mustered a tube's crew, and we whacked on full bat again and began +to close. You see we had crossed her bow once, and Cairnley reckoned +then that she would have altered back to her original course of East, so +he had kept on her port beam at about a mile, going the same speed. I +did not get what he was driving at till afterwards. At the time I +thought he was just going to do it again, because he thought he ought to +make another effort. We saw her first this time as we were closing on +the opposite side, and the skipper told them to poop off the bow gun, +which was all we had, to wake them up. They woke up all right, and we +got the same smack from all along her side we'd had before. She was just +abaft our starboard beam going the same course, and I was wondering what +the deuce he'd meant by telling me to train the tubes to port, when we +went hard a-port and came round all heeled over and shaking. I just +thought to myself, Well, if the Hun keeps on and doesn't try to ram, +we're going to look damn silly, when I saw her again and she _was_ +ramming. Her guns did no good then,--the change was too quick for any +sights to be held on. He banged away all right, and I believe he put +more helm on--but he couldn't get us. The skipper had said twenty-five +yards, but it looked to me like _feet_. He was going all out, and so +were we, and I pulled off as his stem showed abreast the tubes--all +spray and grey paint--and those fish hit him abaft the second funnel. +Eh? Well, perhaps it was a few yards, but it's the closest I've seen to +going alongside a gangway. Well, that's all I knew about it for half an +hour. The bang put me out. Skipper said he turned back and searched for +her, but it was so thick then he couldn't have found an island except by +mistake. We'd been hit below water too and couldn't steam much. We got a +tow home. Good egg! Here's St Pancras, and there's a flapper--thirty if +she's a day--Good old blinkin' London!" + + + + +THE QUARTERMASTER. + + + I mustn't look up from the compass-card, nor look at the seas at all, + I must watch the helm and compass-card,--If I heard the trumpet-call + Of Gabriel sounding Judgment Day to dry the Seas again,-- + I must hold her bow to windward now till I'm relieved again-- + To the pipe and wail of a tearing gale, + Carrying Starboard Ten. + + I must stare and frown at the compass-card, that chases round the + bowl, + North and South and back again with every lurching roll. + By the feel of the ship beneath I know the way she's going to swing, + But I mustn't look up to the booming wind however the halliards + sing-- + In a breaking sea with the land a-lee, + Carrying Starboard Ten. + + And I stoop to look at the compass-card as closes in the night, + For it's hard to see by the shaded glow of half a candle-light; + But the spokes are bright, and I note beside in the corner of my eye + A shimmer of light on oilskin wet that shows the Owner nigh-- + Foggy and thick and a windy trick, + Carrying Starboard Ten. + + Heave and sway or dive and roll can never disturb me now; + Though seas may sweep in rivers of foam across the straining bow, + I've got my eyes on the compass-card, and though she broke her keel + And hit the bottom beneath us now, you'd find me at the wheel + In Davy's realm, still at the helm, + Carrying Starboard Ten. + + + + +A LANDFALL. + + +The dawn came very slowly--a faint glow in the sky spreading until +first the streaming forecastle and then the dirty-yellow seas could be +seen. The destroyer was steaming slowly along the coast with the wind +just before the beam. She made bad weather of it, lurching at +extraordinary angles from side to side, yawing from two to four points +off her course, and throwing her stern up as each wave passed under +her, until the water spouted in the wake of her slowly-moving +propellers. The wind and the mist had come together, and the +visibility extended to perhaps three or four foaming wave-crests away. +They knew within a dozen miles where they were, but a dozen miles is +too vague a reckoning to make a mine-guarded harbour from, and her +captain, with the greatest respect for the fact that he was on a dead +lee shore, and a most inhospitable and rocky shore at that, was +feeling for the land with an order for "Hard-over" helm running +through his head. Occasionally he ceased his staring out on the lee +bow to look back along the deck. The sight each time made him frown +and tighten his lips. The beam-sea was sweeping across the ship +regularly every half-minute. The water shot across her 'midships three +feet deep, and foaming like a Highland burn in spate. The squat +funnels showed through the turmoil of water and spray, streaked +diagonally upwards with crusted white salt, through which showed +patches of red funnel-scale; from them came a steady roaring note--the +signal of suppressed power below them. Battened-down as she was, he +knew that the hatches were not submarine ones; built as they were on a +foundation little thicker than cardboard, they could not keep out such +seas, and he visualised the turmoil and discomfort there must be +beneath him on the flooded decks. He, personally, had not seen in +what state she was below, having been on the bridge for the last nine +hours, but he felt he would like to take a look at his own cabin and +see if his worst foreboding--a foot of water washing to and fro across +a sodden carpet--was true. + +He glanced at his wrist-watch, and then to the east. Half-past seven +and full daylight. Well, he thought, it might as well be just dawning +still for all the light there was. Air and sea were the same colour, a +creamy dull white, and they merged into one at a range of perhaps five +hundred yards. If only he could--he raised his head sharply and turned +to face out on the beam. Bracing his feet and gripping the rail with +wet-gloved fingers he held his breath in an intensity of listening +concentration. Yes, it was clearer that time, a faint high whine broad +on the beam. He walked, timing the roll so that he had no need to +clutch for support, to where the helmsman crouched over a wildly +swinging compass-card, and gave an order. The destroyer came bowing +and dipping round till she met the full drive of the sea ahead. With +a roar and a crash the water tumbled in over the forecastle, shaking +the bridge, and falling in tons over the ladders on to the upper deck. +The destroyer still turned, shaking from end to end, until she had the +sea on the other bow. The telegraph reply-gongs rang back the +acknowledgment of an order, and easing to barely steerage-way, the +ship settled in her new position--hove-to in the direction from which +she had come overnight. The faint sound he had heard had seemed too +distant for the captain to be assured of his position, and until he +could hear it clearly and from fairly close he was not going to risk +taking a departure from it. He knew that hove-to as she was the +destroyer was going to be driven closer in, and with a steep-to shore +he could allow her to accept the leeway for some time. He moved across +and stood on the other side of the bridge, looking out to leeward, his +attitude less strained and anxious now, as the ship was making fairly +easy weather of it. The motion, it is true, was far more +uncomfortable. She sidled, dived, and wallowed in a way that would +have thrown a man unaccustomed to T.B.D.'s completely off his feet; +but far less water was coming aboard, and the amount that did so +arrived on a bearing from which she was better fitted to receive it. +At the end of twenty minutes the captain began to resume his rigid +attitude. There was something wrong somewhere. Sounds came erratically +through fog, but this could not be counted on. He knew he had made no +mistake in the sound he had heard. It was certainly the high note of +the lighthouse, and not a steamer's whistle. The low note should have +been heard in between the high ones, but the fact of not having heard +the low was not surprising to him. One seldom heard both notes in a +fog. But this silent gap was a nuisance, considering the rate at which +they must be closing the land. At half an hour from his first hearing +the sound he turned uphill to gain the wheel again, but froze still as +the voice of the fog-horn came afresh, this time with no possibility +of doubt. A great thuttering roar broke out, as it seemed, almost +overhead, a deep bass note that made the air quiver. The captain +jumped amidships and barked an order. The wheel spun hard down and the +telegraphs whirred round, bringing the destroyer diving and leaping +back head to sea. Looking aft, the captain had a glimpse of three +pinnacle rocks showing a moment in the trough between two seas, and +then the fog shut down over them again, leaving only the regular deep +roar of the fog-signal, that grew gradually fainter astern. Two points +at a time he eased the ship round till she was hove-to on the opposite +tack, then he called to another oilskinned figure that stood swaying +to the roll by the helmsman. "Will you take her now?" he said; "I am +going to look for some breakfast. Hold her like this half an hour, and +then turn her down wind for the run in. The tide's setting us well +round the point now. All right?" + +"Yes, sir. I'll lay it off again on the chart before I turn. That was +a queer hole in the fog, sir." + +"Yes, quite a big blank. Glad it wasn't much bigger. Still, we could +see four cables under the land, and the land's alright if you've got +your stern to it." + +With a huge yawn of relief he stretched his arms back and up, then +started down the thin iron ladder on his perilous trip to the +inevitable chaos and confusion of his cabin. + + + + +NIGHT ROUNDS. + + +It was a dark night with no moon, while only occasionally could a star +be seen from the leader's bridge. The next astern could be made out by +the bands of blue-white phosphorescence that fell away from her bow, +but the rest of the line was quite invisible. The flotilla slid along +at a pace that to them was only a jog-trot, but which would have been +considered rather too exciting for night work by the big ships. The +night was calm, with hardly a breath of wind, while the +_hush_--_hush_--_hush_ from the bow-waves seemed to accentuate the +silence and to increase the impression the destroyers gave of game +moving down on a tiptoe of expectancy to the drinking-pool, ready at a +sight or sound to spring to a frenzy of either offensive or defensive +speed. On the leader's bridge men spoke in low tones, as if afraid +that they might be overheard by the enemy--actually to enable them to +listen better to whatever sound the echoes from the sea might carry. +On bridges and at gun-stations look-outs stared out around them at the +night, and there was no need for the officers to be anxious as to +whether their men kept good watch or slept. The crews knew the rules +of destroyer-war in the Narrow Seas--that "The first one to see, +shoots; and the first one to hit, wins." It is true that they did not +always see first. There were exceptions. Not so long before, they had +been seen at a range of perhaps half a mile by an officer on the low +unobtrusive conning-tower of a submarine. This officer had instantly +and accurately smitten on the back of the head the sailor who shared +his watch, and had rapped out one word "_Down!_" The sailor (evidently +quite accustomed to this procedure) had vanished down the +conning-tower like a falling stone, the officer's boots chasing the +man's hands down the ladder-rungs. The lid had clanked down and +locked just a few seconds before a little "plop" of water closed over +the swirling suction that showed where a big patrol submarine had +been. The boat was English (that is to say, her Captain was Scotch, +and her First Lieutenant Canadian, while the remainder of her officers +and men together could hardly have mustered half a dozen men from the +Home Counties), but she had no intention of risking explanations at +short range with her own friends. She had been warned of their coming, +but she looked on it as a piece of extraordinarily bad luck to have +been met with at visibility range on such a dark night and to have +been inconvenienced into a matter of ninety feet in a hurry. But it is +known that submarines dive for almost everything and swear at everybody. + +As the flotilla moved on its way a portent showed on the bow to +landward. A faint red glow began to light up the low clouds over the +Belgian frontier, and the bridge look-outs whispered together as they +watched it brighten. As it grew clearer it showed to be not one +light, but a rapid-running succession of instantaneous lights far +inland. The white pencil of a searchlight beam showed and swung to the +zenith and back--perhaps half-way between the watchers and the flicker +in the sky. Ten minutes later, as the light drew farther aft, a faint +murmur of sound (that began as a mere suspicion, and grew to be +unmistakably but barely audible) announced the origin of the glow. + +On the leader's bridge the tall officer in the overcoat spoke to the +shorter one in the "lammy." "That's a bit on the big side for a night +raid--they must be attacking round by----" + +"Yes, sir; there's something like what they call 'drum-fire' going on. +Wonder why they put searchlights on for it, though?" + +"Can't guess. They'll have 'em on on the coast in a minute too, if I +know them. Perhaps when they hear guns inland they think it's airbombs +coming down. There they go! Two of 'em----" + +The searchlights came on together, and on such a clear and dark night +they seemed startlingly close. They swept the heavens over and back, +steadied awhile pointing inland, and went out again, leaving an even +inkier blackness than before, and setting the watchers blinking and +rubbing their dazzled eyes. Away to the south-east the pulsating growl +of the guns continued, though the breadth and height of the glow in +the sky was gradually decreasing. + +"There isn't any fighting on near the coast now, sir. That must be +away down in France. If they'd only fire slow we'd be able to get a +sort of range by the flash." + +"You'd have to hold your watch for some time, then," said the taller +officer. "I haven't the inland geography well enough in my head to say +where it is, but that scrap's nearer seventy than sixty miles from +here. Good Lord! And I suppose we'll read in the papers when we get in +that 'there was activity at some points.'" + +"And from here it looks like Hell. What it must be like close to----! +Wish we could run up one of the canals and join in, sir." + +"You'd be too late if we could. It's dying out now. Just as well, too; +it keeps all the look-outs' heads turned that way. How's the time? All +right, we'll turn now and try back." + +The glow faded and passed, and left the velvety dark as blank as +before. The leader swung round on a wide curve, and, as if held by one +long elastic hawser, the flotilla followed in her gleaming wake. At +the same cantering speed as they had come, they started on the long +beat back of their bloodthirsty prowl, at the moment when the Scotch +submarine officer turned over the watch to his Canadian subordinate. + +"I've sheered right out now, and they ought to be clear of us all +right, but keep your eyes skinned for them and nip under if you see +them again. They're devilish quick on the salvoes in this longitude, +and 'pon my soul I don't blame 'em either." + + + + +IN THE BARRED ZONE. + + + They called us up from England at the breaking of the day, + And the wireless whisper caught us from a hundred leagues away-- + "Sentries at the Outer Line, + All that hold the countersign, + Listen in the North Sea--news for you to-day." + + All across the waters, at the paling of the morn, + The wireless whispered softly ere the summer day was born-- + "Be you near or ranging far, + By the Varne or Weser bar, + The Fleet is out and steaming to the Eastward and the dawn." + + Far and away to the North and West, in the dancing glare of the + sunlit ocean, + Just a haze, a shimmer of smoke-cloud, grew and broadened many a + mile; + Low and long and faint and spreading, banner and van of a world in + motion, + Creeping out to the North and West, it hung in the skies alone + awhile. + + Then from over the brooding haze the roar of murmuring engines + swelled, + And the men of the air looked down to us, a mile below their feet; + Down the wind they passed above, their course to the silver + sun-track held, + And we looked back to the West again, and saw the English Fleet. + + Over the curve of the rounded sea, in ordered lines as the ranks of + Rome, + Over the far horizon steamed a power that held us dumb,-- + Miles of racing lines of steel that flattened the sea to a field of + foam, + Rolling deep to the wash they made, + We saw, to the threat of a German blade, + The Shield of England come. + + + + +A MATTER OF ROUTINE. + + +There was little or no wind, and only a gentle swell from the south. +The ships rose and fell lazily as they steamed to the south-eastward, +while only occasionally a handful of light spray fell across a sunlit +forecastle, drying almost as it fell. But if the air was still the +ships were certainly not so--as vast as a great moving town, the Fleet +was travelling at the speed of a touring car. From the Flagship's +foretop the view was extraordinary. Destroyers or light cruisers when +pressed seem to be slipping along with something always in hand and +with no apparent effort; a battleship, however, seen under the same +conditions, makes one think of St Paul's Cathedral being towed up the +Thames; she carries a "bone in her teeth," and her bows seem to +settle low and her stern to rise. In this case the Grand Fleet was +hurrying--moving south-east at full speed, because--well, they _might_ +just cut the enemy off; but the Hun was canny, and knew exactly the +danger-limit in this game of "Prisoner's base." + +The visibility was good, and as far as the eye could see the water was +torn and streaked with the wakes of ships--cruisers, destroyers, +battleships, and craft of every queer and imaginable warlike use. The +great mass of steel hulls had one thing only in common--they could +steam, and could steam always with something in hand above the "speed +of the Fleet." From the ships came a faint brown haze of smoke that +shimmered with heat and made the horizon dance and flicker. From the +foretop, looking aft, it seemed incredible that there could be any +power existing which could drive such a huge beamy hulk as the +Flagship was, and leave such a turmoil of torn and flattened water +astern. Battleships in a hurry are certainly not stately; an elderly +matron in pursuit of a tram-car shows dignity compared to any one of +them. But if they looked flustered and undignified, they carried a +cargo which no one could smile at. "_Battleships are mobile +gun-platforms._" I forget who said that--probably Admiral Mahan--but +it is true; and if these ships showed an ungraceful way of moving, +they certainly complied with the definition of gun-platforms. The +low-sloped turrets all pointed the same way--out to the starboard bow. +The long tapering guns moved up and down, following the horizon +against the roll, and sighing as they moved, as if the hydraulic +engines were weary of the long wait. On the tops of the turrets the +figures of officers could be seen pacing to and fro across the +steel--checking now and then to stare at the southern horizon. +Somewhere out there beneath the blazing sun were the scouts, and +beyond them--well, that question was one that the scouts were there to +answer. The smaller ships in sight seemed like motor-cycle pacers +escorting a long-distance foot-race. With their sterns low and their +bow-waves running back close to the beautifully-shaped hulls, they +gave the impression of sauntering along at their leisure and of +looking impatiently over their shoulders at the big heavy-weights +astern of them. A destroyer division suddenly heeled and altered +course like redshank, each ship turning as the leader swung, and with +a fountain of spray at their sharp high stems they cut through the +intervals of a Battleship division, swinging up again together to the +south-east course as they cleared. The watcher in the top had seen the +trick before, but familiarity could not prevent his eyes from widening +a little as he saw the stem of his next astern throw up a little cloud +of spray as it met the foaming V-wake that followed a few yards from +the leader's counter. He smiled as he thought of an old picture in +'Punch' of a crowd of small children urging and dragging a huge +policeman along to a scene of disturbance. The darting, restless +destroyers seemed like the small bloodthirsty boys--hurrying on ahead +to see the fun, and then back to wait for the ponderous but willing +upholder of the law--anxious to miss nothing of the excitement. + +The Fleet was running down to intercept, and might be in action at any +moment if the luck held, but there was no signalling or outpouring of +instructions. There was just nothing to be said. Everybody knew more +or less what the tactical situation was; all knew that the enemy might +be met with any time in the next few hours, but in the turrets the +guns' crews proceeded with the all-important task of getting outside +as much dinner as they could comfortably stow. The procedure of +endeavouring to meet the High Sea Fleet and of dealing with it on +sight had been rehearsed so often, that the real thing, if it came, +would call for one signal only, and no more. Many prophets have said +that the increase of Science and Applied Mechanics in the Navy would +make men into mere slaves of machines, and into unthinking units. This +is another theory which has been shown to be hopelessly +wrong--certainly so in the Navy, as in it both officers and men are +taught, and have to be taught, far more of the reasons for and the +object aimed at in the Rules for Battle than ever Nelson thought it +necessary to communicate to his subordinates in the last Great War. +The Prussian system may be good, but it produces a bludgeon--ours +produces the finest tempered blade. + +The sight from the foretop was a thing that one would remember all +one's life, and be thankful not to have missed. The almost +incalculable value of the great mass of ships--the whirl of figures +conjured up by a rough estimate of the collective horse-power and the +numbers of men present; the attempt and failure to even count the +actual ships in sight; the vision of a scared and wondering neutral +tramp lying between the lines with engines stopped as the great masses +of grey-painted steel went past her along the broad highroads of +churned water,--this was the Fleet at sea; and the known fact that it +would wheel, close, or spread at the word of one man, from the ships +that foamed along four hundred yards away to those whose mastheads +could only just be seen above the horizon, made the wonder all the +greater. One thought of the thousands of eyes looking south in the +direction of the big gun-muzzles, of the shells that the guns held +rammed close home to the rifling, and of the thousands of brains that +were turning over and over the old question, "Is it to be this time, +or have they slipped in again?"... + + + + +WHO CARES? + + + The sentries at the Castle Gate, + We hold the outer wall, + That echoes to the roar of hate + And savage bugle-call-- + Of those that seek to enter in with steel and eager flame, + To leave you with but eyes to weep the day the Germans came. + + Though we may catch from out the Keep + A whining voice of fear, + Of one who whispers "Rest and sleep, + And lay aside the spear," + We pay no heed to such as he, as soft as we are hard; + We take our word from men alone--the men that rule the guard. + + We hear behind us now and then + The voices of the grooms, + And bickerings of serving-men + Come faintly from the rooms; + But let them squabble as they please, we will not turn aside, + But--curse to think it was for them that fighting men have died. + + Whatever they may say or try, + We shall not pay them heed; + And though they wail and talk and lie, + We hold our simple Creed-- + No matter what the cravens say, however loud the din, + Our Watch is on the Castle Gate, and none shall enter in. + + + + +THE UNCHANGING SEX. + + + When the battle-worn Horatius, 'midst the cheering Roman throng-- + All flushed with pride and triumph as they carried him along-- + Reached the polished porch of marble at the doorway of his home, + He felt himself an Emperor--the bravest man of Rome. + The people slapped him on the back and knocked his helm askew, + Then drifted back along the road to look for something new. + Then Horatius sobered down a bit--as you would do to-day-- + And straightened down his tunic in a calm, collected way. + He hung his battered helmet up and wiped his sandals dry, + And set a parting in his hair--the same as you and I. + His lady kissed him carefully and looked him up and down, + And gently disengaged his arm to spare her snowy gown. + "You _are_ a real disgrace, you know, the worst I've ever seen; + Now go and put your sword away, I _know_ it isn't clean. + And you must change your clothes at once, you're simply wringing wet; + You've been doing something mischievous, I hope you lost your bet.... + Why! you're bleeding on the carpet. Who's the brute that hurt you so? + Did you kill him? _There's a darling._ Serve him right for hitting + low." + Then she hustled lots of water, turning back her pretty sleeves, + And she set him on the sofa (having taken off his greaves). + And bold Horatius purred aloud, the stern Horatius smiled, + And didn't seem to mind that he was treated like a child. + Though she didn't call him Emperor, or cling to him and cry, + Yet I rather think he liked it--just the same as you and I. + + + + +TWO CHILDREN. + + +His age was possibly nineteen, and his general appearance had decided +the members of his last gunroom mess in their choice of a nickname for +him. "Little Boy Blue," or "Boy" for short, would probably stick to him +throughout his naval career. The name had certainly followed him to his +present appointment as "third hand" of a destroyer, where the other +sub-lieutenants of the flotilla were not likely to allow him to forget +it. He would have made a perfect model for a Burne-Jones angel. His +mother would have worded that comparison differently, being under the +impression that no angel could hope to equal him: on his part, he always +took most filial care not to disillusion her on such a point. At the +moment, in the first flush of glory induced by the fact that he had +left gunroom life for ever, and that his midshipman's patches were +things of the recent past, he was making the most of a week's leave, and +making the most also of the opportunity of cultivating the society of a +home Attraction whom the discerning eyes of his mother may or may not +have yet noticed. The Attraction was aged sixteen, extremely pretty, +and, as is usual in such cases, extremely self-possessed. + +The Boy, as he accompanied her along the garden path, was not feeling +self-possessed at all. He had discovered from frequent experience that +the only position he could retain with reference to the lady as she +walked was, as he would put it, "half a cable on the starboard quarter." +Knowing as he did that he was being kept thus distant by intention, he +followed the broad lines of strategy which his naval training had taught +him, and acted in a way which on such occasions is always right--that +is, he aroused doubt and curiosity in the mind of his adversary. + +The lady, who--carrying a ball of string in one hand and a bowl of +peas in the other--had walked in cool silence for at least fifty +yards, turned suddenly and spoke. + +"I suppose this is the first time you've----What _are_ you staring at?" + +The Boy blushed at once. "I beg your pardon," he murmured; "I----" + +"Is my hair coming down?" + +The Boy looked fixedly again at a large black bow which, as he told me +afterwards, "held the bight of it up." "No-o," he said slowly. + +"Then don't stare at it, and don't lag behind. What was I saying?" + +"You asked me how long leave I'd got." + +"I didn't--you've told me that, and anyhow I've forgotten. I was going +to ask you if this is the first time you've done any war-work." + +"Yes, I was out in the Straits till last Thursday week, and----" + +"Don't be silly. I mean work like this, digging and doing without +things, and helping, and so on." + +"Yes, I suppose it is. I haven't had time, really----" + +The lady turned on him in righteous scorn. "_Time_--oh, you're one of +the worst I know. Won't you _ever_ take the war seriously? You just +look on it all as a joke, and you won't make _any_ sacrifices. Now +come here--take the other end of this string, and lay it out till I +tell you to stop." + +The Boy meekly obeyed instructions. He pegged the end of the string +firmly down and returned to the Attraction, who was engaged in hunting +out a hoe from among a litter of horticultural implements that lay in +a corner of the garden wall. He stood watching her for a moment, and +with her eyes away from him, his attitude altered slightly and became +almost proprietary, while his face seemed to harden a shade and give +an inkling of the naval stamp that it would develop later on. She +looked round suddenly and saw him again as a shy and awkward youth. + +"Have you done it?" she said. "All right, you can really start doing +some work now. I'm going to make you dig a trench. _That's_ the best +way to serve your country when you're ashore and have the chance. And +to think you've never used a hoe before!" + +The Boy scraped the hoe reflectively with the toe of his boot. It did +not seem to him politic to mention the fact that vegetable gardens do +not usually grow either on the decks of battleships or on the +shell-beaten slopes of Gallipoli. He made no attempt to follow the +tortuous wanderings of a feminine mind, but held on his own course. +"Are you going to help?" he said. + +"No. You'd only loaf at the work if I did, and I've got other things +to do, too. Now, come along and start, or you'll never get it finished +by to-night." + +"I'm leaving to-morrow," said the Boy. + +"So you've told me--heaps of times to-day. But you must finish that +trench before you go." + +The Boy nodded and walked away towards the pegged-out end of the +string. The lady, without turning her head, walked back up the path +until she came to the grassy slope at its end. Selecting a spot from +which a view could be obtained through the hedge of her oppressed +admirer, she sat down and carefully laid the basin of peas on the bank +beside her. + +"He's rather a dear," she observed cautiously to herself. "But he _is_ +such a child. 'Wonder why boys are always so awfully young compared to +women?" + + * * * * * + +The flotilla would have turned round for its run back in another +half-hour if the last destroyer in the enemy's line had not shown a +faint funnel-glare for the fractional part of a second. They were only +a couple of miles from the end of the "beat" when it showed, and +considering the poor visibility that accompanied the frequent +snow-showers, it was a piece of happy luck that the glare was seen at +all. Three people on the leader's bridge saw it together; two of them +gave a kind of muffled yelp, as foxhound puppies would at sight of +their first cub, while the third gave an order on the instant. The +destroyer settled a little by the stern, her course altered slightly, +and she began really to travel. For some hours she had been jogging +along at seventeen knots, but her speed now began to rise in jumps of +five knots at a time, till in a few minutes she had become a mad and +quivering fabric of impatient steel. As she gained her speed the snow +began to pour down again, blotting out the faint shadow that had meant +the bow of her next astern. The Captain glanced aft once, and then +continued his intent gazing forward. He had passed a rough bearing and +the signal to chase to his subordinates astern, and could do no more +till he could get touch again. He had no intention of easing his speed +to wait for clearer visibility. He knew too much of flotilla war to +let a chance of fighting go by in that way. If he once got to the +enemy, the rest of his flotilla would steer to the sound of the guns; +and anyhow, he decided, if he did have to fight single-handed, the +worse the visibility was and the greater the confusion and doubt among +the enemy, the better would be the chances for him. The snow ahead +cleared for a minute to leave a long narrow lane between the showers, +and he saw the loom of the last ship of the enemy's line. The German +destroyer seemed to fall back to him, as if she was stopped, though in +reality she was holding station on her next ahead at a fair sixteen +knots. With a startling crash and a blaze of blinding light the guns +opened from along the leader's side--the German guns waiting, +surprised, for a full minute before they replied. When they did open +fire, the duel had become too one-sided to be called a fight at all. +Between the crashes of the guns, the clatter and ring of ejected +cartridge-cases could be heard but faintly, yet as the big leader +passed her battered opponent at barely half a cable distance, through +the din and savage intensity of a yard-arm fight the quartermaster +stooped over his tiny wheel, oblivious to all things but the clear +quiet voice that conned the ship past and on to her next victim. The +rear destroyer of the enemy swung away, stopped, and remained--a +horrible illustration of the maxim of naval warfare, which says that +he who is unready should never leave harbour. + +At the head of the German line a man of decision had acted swiftly. As +the blaze of the gun-fire broke out astern of him, and before the +first German gun had fired a round, he had swung the leading division +four points off its course. As the British destroyer tore on up the +line, he swung inwards again and closed on her to engage on her +disengaged side. As a piece of tactics it was pretty and well +performed, but nothing can be judged to perfection in war, and this +evolution was no exception to the rule. As he closed in on the British +leader, she started her broadside on her second quarry,--an opponent +better prepared than her first,--and the snow-laden air quivered to +the shock of furiously worked guns. The flashes lit the contending +ships in rippling, blinding light, and across the foaming waters that +the fighters left in their passage, the drifting snow showed up like +flying gold. At short range the leading German division broke in with +a burst of rapid fire, and in his swift glance towards this menace +from his disengaged side the British leader saw the flaw in his +enemy's harness. The last of the German division was too far astern +for safety in view of the fact that the British ship was at the moment +fighting-mad. The German leader had a glimpse of a high bow swinging +round towards him in the midst of salvoes of bursting shell--then came +an increased burst of firing from down the line astern, followed by a +great crash and a dull booming explosion. The gun-fire died down and +stopped as the guns' crews lost sight of their target, until the +scattered flotilla was running on in the same darkness as had preceded +the fight, though in far different condition. The German leader was +not sure as to what had happened to the first of his command to be +attacked, but he knew well what had come to the rear ship of his own +division. She had been blown up in the shock of being rammed by the +English madman, and although she had probably taken her slayer with +her, she had left an impression on the minds of the rest of the +flotilla on the subject of what odds an English ship considered to be +equal, that would take some considerable drilling to eradicate. He +flashed out a signal to tell his unseen ships to concentrate, and the +signal, shaded as it was, drew down a salvo of shell from half a mile +away on his quarter. At full speed he tore on for home, realising a +fact that he had only suspected before--that the savage who had +attacked him had been but the forerunner of a flotilla of unknown +numbers and strength. The crackling sound of battle--a battle at a +longer range now--passed on and died down as the unheeding snow +smothered both light and sound. Both flotillas were occupied, and in +their occupation had no time to think of what was left astern of +them,--a shattered German destroyer stopped, helpless, and an easy +prey for the returning British--a litter of lifebelts, corpses, and +wreckage, that marked the grave of the rammed ship--and a +barely-floating hulk, her stern and half her deck only above water, +that lay rolling to the swell; a broken monument to a man who had +fought a good fight and gone to his death with the sound of the +trumpets of the Hall of all Brave Men calling in his ears. + +The Boy twisted the seaman's silk handkerchief more tightly round his +left wrist, and drew another fold across his broken hand. He snapped his +orders out furiously, and men hastened to obey them. He knew that his +after-gun was the only one above water, and that the sloping island of +the stern that formed its support was not likely to retain buoyancy +long, but so long as there were survivors clustered aft and dry +ammunition with which they might load, he was going to be ready for +fighting. To the luck that caused one of his flotilla to lose touch in +the chase and blunder across him, he owed the fact that he was ever able +to fight again. She came tearing by down wind--threw the narrow beam of +a searchlight full on to him--and recognising by that extraordinary +nautical "eye for a ship," which can see all when a landsman could see +nothing, that the sloping battered wreck was the remnant of a ship of +her own class, turned on a wide sweep to investigate. The Boy knew +nothing of her nationality, and cared less what her intentions were. In +the midst of a litter of ammunition, wounded men, and half-drowned or +frozen survivors, he slammed shell at her from his sightless and tilted +gun till his store of dry cartridges dwindled and failed him. His +shooting was execrable; he could hardly make out the dark blotch that +was his target as, astonished and silent, she circled round him. Savage +and berserk, he fired till his last round was gone, then drew his motley +collection of ratings around him, and with pistol, knife, and spanner +they waited for their chance to board. + +A long black hull slid cautiously into view and closed them, till up +against the beating snow and rising wind a voice roared out through a +megaphone a sentence which no German could ever attempt to copy--"You +blank, blank, blank," it said, "are you all something mad?" + +The Boy stood up, and his wounded hand just then began to hurt him +very much. "No sir," he called in reply. "I'm sorry, sir; I made a +mistake. We've got a lot of wounded here." + +The night seemed to turn suddenly very cold, and he realised that at +some moment since the collision he must have been in the water. + + * * * * * + +The Boy did not see her till he had left the train and was half-way +along the station platform. Then she came forward from the +ticket-collector's barrier, and he discovered with a start that not +only was the sun shining, but that the world was a very good place to +be alive in. He dropped his suit-case to shake hands, and then hastily +snatched it up to forestall her attempt to carry it for him. She +turned and piloted him out of the station to where an ancient +"growler" waited, its steed dozing in the sunshine. "I ordered this +old thing, as I thought you mightn't be strong enough to walk, but +you're not such an invalid as I expected. The carrier is bringing your +luggage." The lady spoke, looking him carefully over from under the +shade of her hat. + +"Walk! Yes, of course I can. I'm not an invalid. I--No, I mean--let's +drive." He slung his suit-case hastily in through the open cab door. + +The lady seemed to see nothing inconsistent in his incoherencies. She +may have possibly followed his train of thought. She merely nodded, +and reached in for his suit-case, which she swung easily upwards, to +be received by the driver and placed on the roof. She then stepped in, +and watched as the Boy cautiously entered and took his station beside +her. With what seemed almost a yawn, the old horse roused and began +to work up to his travelling pace, a possible five miles to the hour. + +"Well, Boy," said the lady, "and what sort of a time did they give you +in hospital?" + +"Oh--quite decent, you know; but mighty little to eat. I believe they +put every one on low diet as soon as they get there just to keep them +humble and quiet." + +"Well, your mother's just dying to feed you up, so you'll get awfully +fat soon. How's the hand?" + +The Boy stretched out his left arm and showed a suspiciously +inert-looking brown glove. "Only three fingers gone and some bits +missing. It's stopped my golf all right, though." + +"But you'll still be able to hunt and shoot and you'll work up some +sort of a golf handicap again when you're used to it. What was the +battle like, Boy?" + +"Oh--just the usual sort of destroyer scrap. We saw them first in our +packet, and so we got most of it. It was a good scrap, though." + +"Will you be able to go to sea again, or will they----?" + +The Boy flushed and leaned back. "Of course I will--I've got a hand +and a half, and they can't stick me in a shore job when I've got that +much." The lady put a hand swiftly out and rested it on the padded +brown glove. "Of course they can't. Sorry, Boy. I never thought they +would, you know." The Boy instantly brought his right hand across, +and, catching the sympathetic hand that lay on his glove, kissed it +with decision. He then leaned back again to the musty padding of the +cab, rather shocked at his own temerity. The lady, however, showed no +signs of confusion at all. + +"How long sick leave did they give you? Do you have to go back to the +hospital, or do you just report at the Admiralty?" + +"I don't know,--look here, when are we going to be engaged?" + +"When we're old enough, Boy--if you're good. Are you going to be?" + +"That's a bet," said the Boy firmly. "So long as I know it's going to +be all right, I'll be awfully good. What are you going to do with me +on leave? I can't dig trenches for peas now--at least, not properly." + +"No; but if you took a little more interest in the subject, you'd know +that at this time of year you can pick them. Now, here's your house, +and you're going in to see your mother, and I'm going home; and you're +not to laugh at her if she cries, and--pay attention, Boy--there's no +need for you to wear that glove on your hand; she isn't a baby any +more than I am." + + + + +AN URGENT COURTSHIP. + +[Written with a lot of assistance from a partner.] + + +The solitary figure in the R.N. Barracks smoking-room rose, stretched +himself, and lounged across to a table to change his evening paper for +a later edition. + +"Hullo! old sportsman. Where's everybody?" + +The "sportsman"--a precise-looking surgeon who wore a wound-stripe on +his cuff--looked round from the litter of newspapers he had been +turning over. + +"Why, lumme! if it ain't James the Giant-Killer. Here, waiter! Hi! Two +sherry--quick! What the deuce brings you here, James?" + +"Just down from the North,--joining the _Great Harry_ to-morrow. +Where's every one? Is there an air-raid on, and were the cellars too +full for you, my hack-saw expert?" + +"They were not. They're damn near empty, worse luck. But the Depot +Boxing is on to-night, and I'd be there too, only it's my turn for +guard. It's no good your going now, you old pug; they'll finish in +half an hour, and it's a mile away." + +"Oh! Well, I'm tired, anyway. I want dinner and then a bed. Of all +filthy games, give me a war-time train journey. I've found a cabin +here, and I found a bath, and I won't quarrel with any one for an hour +or two." + +"Then, you may as well keep the cabin while you've got it, because the +_Great Harry_ is having her mountings altered, and won't commission +for a week yet." + +James Rainer swivelled round in his chair to take the sherry glass +from the waiter. "Here's luck, Doc. I thought she commissioned +to-morrow, though." + +"Gun trials to-day, and the experts didn't like her. Not much wrong, I +believe, but she's delayed a week. Here's long life and a----" The +surgeon paused and put his glass down. James Rainer stared at him +somewhat truculently. + +"James, my boy, I was forgetting. Your little flapper's here. Ah! I +see you know all about that." + +"Doc.--you're an ass; I wasn't thinking of that at all." + +The surgeon leaned back in his arm-chair and prepared to enjoy himself. + +"Ah! James, me old friend--pot companion of me youth! What a +chicken-butcher you are! If only you hadn't been so young; two years +ago, was it not? How the years do roll on, to be sure. And what a +little romance it was--the blue-eyed flag-lieutenant and the admiral's +daughter--_always_ the first two down to breakfast. And we used to +hear, too, in the Yard, of the little expeditions when you were +detailed to take her back to school and--_No!_ hands off! Would you +touch me with a cheild in me arrms? Let me go and I'll tell you all +about her--and look out for my drink, you great ruffian." + +"Never mind your drink." James released the surgeon's head from under +his arm and sat down again. "Is she down here?" + +"She is, James--and she's a devilish pretty girl now, too. If it +wasn't that we're most of us crocks here we'd----" + +A signalman entered and glanced inquiringly round the room. + +"Who is it for, signalman? Anybody hurt?" + +"No, sir." The man looked at his signal-pad again. "Send despatch +officer to Admiralty House instantly." + +"Help!" The surgeon turned to Rainer. "There's only one available +to-night, and he's at the Boxing. It's probably only stuff to be +brought back here. What about----? But I forgot, you're tired, aren't +you? They'd better telephone." + +Rainer picked up his cap. "I'm not supposed to join till to-morrow +night, and I'm going even if it means another filthy railway journey. +'Night, Doc!" + +The door banged decisively, and the surgeon chuckled at some deep jest +of his own. + + * * * * * + +Vice-Admiral Sir Charles Woodcote grunted ferociously as a knock +sounded at his study door. + +"Come in!" he barked. "Who is it?" + +He looked up to see a tall clean-shaven lieutenant enter--a +broad-shouldered athletic figure with a heavy jaw and twinkling grey +eyes. + +"Eh--Rainer, how are you, my boy? I was expecting the despatch +officer." + +"Yes, sir; but as I was at a loose end at the barracks I came myself. +I'm joining the----" + +"The _Great Harry_--yes, so you are. Well, it's a long time since I +saw you. You must come and dine with us before you sail. Now, you'd +better get off with these. I'm going to send you in the car." He +pressed a bell and a seaman entered. "The big car at once, _and_ the +headlights. Tell Thompson to hurry up." + +"Please, sir, Thompson's hurt his wrist, sir. Starting the----" + +"_Confound_ Thompson--he's always doing it. _Why_ does he do it? Eh? +Eh? You can't tell me? Tell Miss Ruth to get the other car round at +once, d'you hear?" + +"Now, Rainer," said the Admiral, "here's the despatch. Take it to +Shortholme aerodrome, and bring a receipt back, d'you hear? and keep +that girl of mine out of mischief. _Come_ in!" + +The door opened, and a slim leather-coated figure appeared. Rainer +tried to keep his eyes on the Admiral, but failed dismally, his +efforts resulting in a distressing squint. His flapper of two years +ago was now a calm, self-possessed, and extremely pretty girl, who, in +her role of amateur chauffeur, did not seem even to be aware of his +presence in the room. + +"The car is ready, father," she said, and vanished, leaving the +startled Rainer gaping at a vision of neat black gaiters beneath her +short skirt. + +"Well, you'd better get on then," said the Admiral. "But, by the way, +tell Forrest--Wing-Commander Forrest--to keep an eye on his machines. +There are three German prisoners loose near here--two pilots and a +mechanic from their Flying Corps. They may try and steal a machine to +get away on. Tell him to lock up his hangars, or whatever he calls the +things, and--all right--get on--get on. What are you waiting for?" + +Rainer, nothing loath, took his dismissal. He hurried across the hall, +cramming the despatch, in its stiff parchment envelope, into the +inside pocket of his overcoat as he went. The car was standing purring +at the door, a leakage of light from the side-lamps shining on a +demure little face behind the screen, and showing him also that the +back near-side door was standing invitingly open. + +"You little darling," he thought, "as if you didn't _know_ what you are +in for." He firmly closed the back door, sat down in the vacant front +seat, and reached over to pull in a rug from behind him. As he did so +the clutch was gently engaged and the car slid quietly down the drive. + +"It's jolly nice your driving me like this, Miss Woodcote," he said. +"Do you drive many despatch officers?" + +"Why, yes, Mr Rainer; Thompson and I take turns at it." + +"Are you an official chauffeur, then?" + +"I have been for some time now." + +"Always here?" + +"No, I was at Portsmouth a bit." + +"Indeed? How far is it to Shortcombe?" + +"About twenty miles, by this road." + +"You didn't seem surprised to see me in your father's study." + +The car dodged round a tram and began a louder purr as it felt the +open road ahead. + +"Well, Hickson told me you had come." + +"Oh! he did, did he? Did Hickson tell you anything else?" + +"Yes; and I don't think it's quite nice for an officer to bribe a +butler to write and tell him things about his master's daughter." + +"Well, I'm damned. Hickson is a scoundrel. I told him he wasn't to." + +"Well, he did tell. I made him. And I think it was very wrong of you." + +"But I'd always looked after you before, and it's only natural I +should like to hear you weren't getting into trouble after my eagle +eye had left you." + +"Never mind about eagle eyes. It was very rude, and it mustn't go on." + +"It won't. I promise you." + +Miss Woodcote, a little piqued at such easy acquiescence, drove in +silence for a few minutes, then, unable to restrain her curiosity, +fell into the trap. + +"Well, I'm glad to hear you say so. It was a silly thing to do." + +"Yes, it was, perhaps. But the necessity for it has gone now, so I +don't mind." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"Well, I'm going to marry you now you're grown up, so----" + +"Will you please stop talking nonsense?" + +"Will you marry me?" + +"No." + +"Well, that's one proposal over. I think a girl can't be very distant +with a man who's proposed to her, can she? It implies a certain +intimacy, so to speak...?" + +"No." + +"It means, you see, a secret shared together, and that should...." + +A stony silence. + +"Of course--it's not the only secret we've had together. There was the +matter of the fire in the kitchen, when we were making toffee and +upset the paraffin...." + +Still silence. + +"You know two years ago I was going to marry you if I could, and I +knew that you----" + +"What did you know?" + +"Well, you knew I'd never let you marry any one else." + +"Mr Rainer--will you please be quiet? I don't want to speak to you." + +"Damn," said Rainer, leaning back sulkily. + +"And don't swear, please." + +Rainer sat up again. "Haven't I got cause for swearing? We've come +ten miles and I wanted to kiss you before we'd done twenty. You're +wasting time, you know." + +"I don't want to kiss any one, and certainly not you." + +Rainer's confidence began to evaporate slightly. This was not quite +the flapper he had known. He sighed heavily, and, leaning back again, +turned slightly away from her, wishing that he had eyes in the back of +his head. + +Miss Woodcote, secure in the knowledge that he was not so favoured by +nature, had glanced three times in his direction before the trouble +started. The car whirled round a corner, its speed regulated more by +the state of the driver's temper than by good judgment, and the +headlights shone full on a heavy farm cart which lay right across the +road. There was a grinding of brakes, a lurch and skid, and Rainer had +just time to throw a protecting arm across Ruth as the collision +occurred. The screen went to pieces as the headlights went out, and +the frightened Rainer and the extremely angry chauffeuse stared at +each other in the dim glow of the side-lamps. + +"Are you hurt? Are you all right? _Ruth_...." + +"The _beasts_, the _beasts_. I've _never_ hit anything before. _Oh!_ +Just look at all the glass." + +The tone of her voice reassured the trembling lover beside her, and +rising to his feet, he began to shed his overcoat. + +"Cheer up," he said. "There mayn't be as much damage as you think. +We'll have a look at it. Hullo!" + +Two dark figures showed by the near side of the bonnet, and a harsh +voice rasped out: "Out of the car and put your hands up. Quickly, now, +or you'll get hurt." + +Rainer obeyed part of the order with startling alacrity. This was a +straightforward and simple problem to deal with compared with the +attempt to instil sense into an unreasonable, albeit delightful, girl. +His overcoat dropped to the floor-boards and he landed on the road at +the same moment. Two to one in a bad light was very fair odds, he +felt, and he only regretted that he had not got his gloves on, as he +foresaw broken knuckles for himself by the morning. + +He shuffled forward a few feet and went in for his left-hand +adversary. The left feint was only a concession to orthodoxy, but the +right hook which followed it was delivered with a grunt and twist that +meant business. He sprang back at once behind the side-lamp, perfectly +satisfied that the recipient of the blow was going to be a sleeping +partner for some minutes at least. The second man came forward a +little doubtfully, swearing in excellent German. Rainer heard a cry +from Ruth and turned half round. A third opponent had appeared from +behind the car, and a club or heavy stick was whirling over his head. +For an instant Rainer hesitated, then tried to jump in under the +weapon. He felt as he did so that it was too late, but he arrived +safely on his man's chest, clutching for the upraised arm. The left +hand seized something it had not expected to find--a girl's hand in a +leather glove. The club-man roared with rage, swung round and struck +savagely behind him. Rainer had a glimpse of a white face going down, +and a little moan of pain from the ground sent him berserk. An arm +came around his throat from behind, and he knew that what he had to do +must be done quickly. He tripped the club-man and hurled himself +sideways and back. The three figures, swaying and straining together, +struck the car and came down. Rainer felt the arm round his neck slip +and change to a hand. The owner of the hand instantly began to regret +this, as Rainer's teeth were not only in good condition but had a grip +like a bull-dog's. The club-man began to scream, and not without +reason. To be held against a car-wheel by a twelve-stone +rough-and-tumble expert who doesn't mind being killed if only he +leaves his mark on you, is a bad position for any man to be in. +Rainer's hands were on his throat, the knuckles working and straining +upwards for the carotids, and Rainer's legs were quietly but surely +engaged in breaking his left ankle. + +Then the man with the prisoned hand began to talk rapidly, and Rainer +threw his reserve strength into his hands. He knew what was coming. +His first opponent had awakened. He felt the man behind him wriggle +his body clear, and then came a smashing concussion. With a feeling of +regret that he had not been allowed another ten seconds' grip he sank +into oblivion. + +Two men rose from beside him and leaned panting and gasping against +the car. One of them subsided and sat on the running board, his breath +rasping and tearing in his throat. The man who had felt Rainer's punch +dropped the club, took off a side-lamp and made a hasty examination of +the front of the car. Returning, he spoke in short abrupt sentences to +the others, and assisted the seated man to his feet with a kick. The +three stood and listened for a moment, then broke through the hedge +and vanished into the night. + + * * * * * + +It seemed to Rainer in his dreams that his ship was coaling. He could +hear the crash and rattle and roar of the winches, and there was a +gritty taste in his mouth as if he was working in the collier's hold. He +spat out a mouthful of dust and lifted his head. No--they weren't +coaling. He was lying against a very hard and nobbly car, and he had a +devil of a headache. He considered the situation a moment, and then woke +up suddenly with a cold feeling of fear. He rose and steadied himself by +a wing, then looked round. Yes, there she was, a few feet away, and at +the sight of her his strength came back. He knelt down and lifted her +shoulders. She moved a little and moaned. With trembling fingers he felt +the top of her head and found that the cap was gone, and that there was +a suspiciously sticky lump on her forehead. He felt for his +handkerchief, but remembered that it was in his overcoat. Lifting the +girl in his arms he tottered to the car and sat down in the front seat, +while he searched the coat pockets. He found the handkerchief, and +noted, as a side-issue, that the despatches were still there. Unscrewing +the filling cap of the petrol tank he plunged the handkerchief in, but +turned his head at a voice at his elbow. + +"Jim! What are you doing?" + +"Thank God! Ruth, lie still. I'm going to put some petrol on your +head." + +"_Ooo!_" The lady had straightened up in her seat. "My poor head--it +does hurt. Jim! if you put petrol on my head I'll _never_ marry you." + +"But, darling--I----" + +"Don't do it. Have you got the despatches?" + +"Yes. I don't think they were after them. Ruth, d'you know that chap +would have brained me if you hadn't tackled him?" + +"Why did you kiss me just before I woke up?" + +"I didn't. I swear I didn't." + +"You did. I know you did." + +"I--I--Ruth, were you angry?" + +"Don't you think you might see if you can move the car, or do +something useful?" + +"Ruth, were you? Ruth, I say----" + +"Jim, there's a car coming. All right, be quick. That will do. +_There_, you old brute--now go and meet that car. Give me your hanky." + +Rainer reluctantly dodged round the farm cart, holding a side-lamp in +his hand. The headache was forgotten, and the world seemed a +remarkably pleasant place in spite of bruises and stiff joints. The +car pulled up and a group of figures came towards him. "Hullo," said +one, "what's all this?" + +Rainer recognised the speaker. "That you Deane?" he replied. "Three +escaped Huns have attacked us. They've gone now. I was bringing +despatches for the Wing-Commander, but they didn't get them. Miss +Woodcote's in the car. She's smashed--the car, I mean--and she's had a +blow on the head from a club." + +"Lord! Those are our men. They walked out to one of our machines at +dusk just after it landed, but they ran when they were challenged. +We're after them now." + +"Well, they can't get far. One's groggy and one's lame. What about +Miss Woodcote? She'll have to be sent home. She's got a nasty crack on +the head." + +"We'll send her to Admiralty House in this lorry. Give me the +despatches and you go back with her. I'm going to spread my men out +and hunt the fields. They must have been after your car." + +Rainer walked back as the air-mechanics began to move the farm cart +out of the road. "Ruth," he said, "we're going back on this lorry. +I've handed the despatches over, and I'm going to take you home." + +"Only ten miles, Jim, and you expected forty, didn't you?" + +"I did, but I hoped to have kissed you all the last twenty of them, +you little angel." + +"Well, Jim, it looks a very dark lorry, doesn't it? But as for kissing +me in the other car----Well, you may have decided on the last twenty +miles, but I had arranged for the last hundred yards up the drive. +Why? You silly old thing. I can't do two things properly at once, and +I made up my mind when we started I was not going to be kissed when I +was driving. Carry me across carefully, Jim, dear. I'm feeling rather +fragile now...." + + + + +LOOKING AFT. + + + I'm the donkey-man of a dingy tramp + They launched in 'Eighty-one, + Rickety, old, and leaky too--but some o' the rivets are shining new + Beneath our after-gun. + + An' she an' meself are off to sea + From out o' the breaker's hands, + An' we laugh to find such an altered game, for devil a thing we + found the same + When we came off the land. + + We used to carry a freight of trash + That younger ships would scorn, + But now we're running a decent trade--howitzer-shell and + hand-grenade, + Or best Alberta corn. + + We used to sneak an' smouch along + Wi' rusty side an' rails, + Hoot an' bellow of liners proud--"Give us the room that we're + allowed; + Get out o' the track--the Mails!" + + We sometimes met--an' took their wash-- + The 'aughty ships o' war, + An' we dips to them--an' they to us--an' on they went in a tearin' + fuss, + But now they count us more. + + For now we're "England's Hope and Pride"-- + The Mercantile Marine,-- + "Bring us the goods and food we lack, because we're hungry, Merchant + Jack" + (As often I have been). + + "You're the man to save us now, + We look to you to win; + Wot'd yer like? A rise o' pay? We'll give whatever you like to say, + But bring the cargoes in." + + An' here we are in the danger zone, + Wi' escorts all around, + Destroyers a-racing to and fro--"We will show you the way to go, + An' guide you safe an' sound." + + "An' did you cross in a comfy way, + Or did you have to run? + An' is the patch on your hull we see the mark of a bump in + 'Ninety-three, + Or the work of a German gun?" + + "We'll lead you now, and keep beside, + An' call to all the Fleet, + Clear the road and sweep us in--he carries a freight we need to win, + A golden load of wheat." + + Yes, we're the hope of England now, + And rank wi' the Navy too; + An' all the papers speak us fair--"Nothing he will not lightly dare, + Nothing he fears to do." + + "Be polite to Merchant Jack, + Who brings you in the meat, + For if he went on a striking lay, you'd have to go on your knees and + pray, + With never a bone to eat." + + But you can lay your papers down + An' set your fears aside, + For we will keep the ocean free--we o' the clean an' open sea-- + To break the German pride. + + We won't go canny or strike for pay, + Or say we need a rest; + But you get on wi' the blinkin' War--an' not so much o' your strikes + ashore, + Or givin' the German best. + + + + +GRIT. + + +The Captain of H.M. T.B.D. _Upavon_ was in a bad humour. He had +decided when he left harbour that this patrol was going to be an +uninteresting one, as the area allotted to him covered no traffic +lane, and was therefore unlikely to hold an enemy within its +boundaries. The dulness of a blank horizon had continued to confirm +him in his opinion since the patrol began. He spoke from his arm-chair +as the First Lieutenant struggled into his oilskins preparatory to +going on deck for the First Watch. + +"I don't care what courses you steer so long as you work along to the +west'ard and keep the alterations logged. Beat across in twelve-mile +tacks, and tell your relief to do the same. I'll be keeping the +morning, and I'll turn round and work east at six. Got it?" + +The First Lieutenant intimated that he had "got it," and, pulling his +sou'wester well down over his ears, passed out: he was none too +cheerful at the moment himself. The rain had been beating down in +heavy streams since dusk, and the long oily swell that had been with +them since leaving harbour had, although it had not wetted their +rails, made the steady rolling rather monotonous. + + * * * * * + +The big tramp steamer might have had a fighting chance if it had not +been for the torpedo. It hit fairly abreast her bridge, and two boats +at the port-davits broke to splinters above the explosion, while the +wireless instruments developed defects that would have taken a week to +cure. The Chief Mate never saw the periscope. The explosion, and the +sight of a hard white line stretching away to port at right angles to +their course, were impressed on his brain simultaneously. It was a +few seconds later when he rose shakily to his feet and mechanically +set the engine-room telegraphs to "stop." As he did so, the Captain +arrived with a rush on the bridge and released him from his post. He +hurried below to examine the damage, and to fight, by every means +possible to seamanship, the great Atlantic waters that he knew must by +then be flooding nearly half the hold-space of the ship. Ships have +reached harbour with worse damage than she had received, and she might +have added another name to the list of tributes to good seamanship had +not the enemy risen astern of them to complete his work. A shell +hummed over them, skimming the tilted deck from two thousand yards +away. The second shell arrived as the tramp's stern-gun fired, and the +steamer quivered to a dull rumbling shock that told of a well-delayed +fuse and a raking shot. + +The tramp's big propeller threshed along, half out of water, as her +Captain rang down for speed with which to dodge and man[oe]uvre; but +the vicious shells came steadily home into her, and it was a question +only of whether the straining bulkheads forward would go before her +stern was blown in. The stern-gun could hardly be depressed enough to +get a clear view of its target, and Fritz knew it. The Chief Mate +reckoned that it was about the twelfth shell that finished them. +Following its explosion, he heard a noise that told him much,--a +hissing, rushing sound of air from beneath his feet--the sigh of +flooding holds. + +There was little time, but they did what they could. The gun's crew, +wrestling with a refractory cartridge-box lid, hardly seemed to look +up as the tramp sank, carrying them down as so many British seamen +have gone down, intent only on the job in hand. In five minutes' time +the ocean was clear again save for a half-dozen bobbing heads +clustered round a small white upturned boat. + +The sea, that from the deck of the tramp had seemed to be only a long +gentle swell, now appeared tremendous and threatening. With a cable's +length between their smooth crests the big hills came majestically on, +giving the numbed survivors glimpses of the empty spaces of the sea at +intervals before lowering them back to the broad dark valleys between. +For a few minutes the men simply paddled their feet in silence as they +clung with unnecessary strength to the life-lines, stem, and +stern-posts of the capsized boat; then the Chief Mate called to two of +them by name. He gave the white-bearded, semi-conscious figure he +supported into their charge and commenced diving, or rather ducking +down, under the gunwale. He was blue with cold and weariness before he +gained his object--a heavy eighteen-foot ash oar. The other two men +came to his assistance, and between them they succeeded in passing the +oar-loom across and under the boat, and in working it about until it +caught and held at the far side. It took the Chief Mate a ghastly +quarter of an hour before he could climb to the swaying keel, but +once there he easily hauled the lighter of his assistants up beside +him. With the other man steadying the loom in position, they swung +their weight back on the painter clove-hitched to the bending blade. +Time after time the oar slipped and had to be replaced, and on each +failure the cramped workers panted and shivered a while before +patiently setting to the task again. As they toiled, the send of the +swell worked the boat broadside on, and suddenly as they threw back on +the line she came sharply over, throwing them into the sea before they +could clutch the rising gunwale with their hands. Followed an hour of +heart-breaking baling with caps and hands, and then one by one the six +came aboard--the old Captain, who in the face of active work was +recovering consciousness, insisting on being at any rate one of the +last three to leave the water. + +The Chief Mate collapsed at once across the after-thwart. He had been +working with the strength of desperation, and the effort had been +great. The others knelt or sat on the thwarts, staring around them as +they swung periodically on the crests of the waves in hungry desire +for the sight of help. One man faced aft and began swearing, cursing +the cold, the Germans, the war, and, in a curious twist of +recollection, the ship's cook, who had died twenty minutes before, but +who had done so suffering under the accusation of having stolen the +swearer's sugar ration. The Captain rose, steadying himself by a hand +on the gunwale: "Stop that swearing, you," he said; "lay aft here and +rummage these lockers. You other hands, muster the gear in the boat +and clear away the raffle. Mr Johnson, you and I will bail for an +hour; the boat is leaking, and we'll take the first spell. We want +warming, I think." + +The Chief Mate raised his head from against the thwart--"I can't bale, +sir; let the men do it. I'm done." + +"Mr Johnson, I'm sixty-five years old and I'm going to bale, and I'm +captain of this ship." + +The Chief Mate clawed himself up to a kneeling position, and taking a +sodden cap from the stern-sheets set feebly to work. As he went on he +warmed a little, and the deadly feeling of despair began to leave him. +The movements of men about him as they hunted for missing masts and +oars roused him at length to an oath at a seaman who lurched against +him. + +An hour later the dusk closed down, and with two men baling wearily +the boat rose and fell to what was undoubtedly a threatening sea, +tugging and jerking at her sea anchor. The other four crouched in the +stern-sheets, huddled together to find warmth beneath the beating rain. + +"If the sail wasn't gone, sir, would you 'ave tried to make land?" A +seaman spoke, his cheek against the Chief Mate's serge sleeve. + +"I would, Hanson; and if we had two sound oars, I'd use those too," +said the old Captain. "But even like this, I'm not going to give in or +stop trying." + +One of the balers dropped his cap and leaned sideways across the +stern-sheets. "Tell 'em the truth, sir," he said. "I know, and both +you officers know. If we had sails and oars too and a fair wind, we +couldn't make land under a week. We'll not live three days in this +cold and on this ration, and there's no traffic here. For Gawd's sake +stop shammin', an' let's take our medicine quiet." + +The Chief Mate swore and started to rise, but the Captain checked him. +"One moment, Mr Johnson," he said, and turned to the ex-baler: "Listen +now, my lad; it's not that you're afraid, it's just that you haven't +got guts, that's your trouble. I'm an old man and I've got to die soon +anyhow, so it oughtn't to matter to me. But I tell _you_ that I'm +going to work till I freeze stiff on this job, and I'll never stop +trying if every one of you does. It's true, there isn't much chance +for us, but there _is_ a chance, and I won't let go of it. If we were +told to come this route, it means some one else may be told to use +it. There may be a ship just over the horizon now. I tell you, I +don't want some one to pick me up drifting about and say, 'They +haven't been dead an hour yet; if they'd used a bit more pluck they'd +have pulled through. No, by God, the man that sank my ship thinks he's +finished me, but as long as I can lift a hand I'll try to beat him. +I'll sail ships yet in his dirty German teeth, and I'll take you with +me in my fo'c'sle. Now get on and bale till your watch is up." + +The man reached forward to the floating cap and without a word continued +to use it, ladling the icy water overside in pitifully small quantities. +The white-bearded captain subsided again beside the Chief Mate. + + * * * * * + +The _Upavon_ was still rolling heavily as her Captain came on the +bridge for the morning watch. She rolled a little uneasily now, and +there was a suspicion of a "top" to the seas as they lifted her. The +Captain glowered at the crescent moon--having lost none of his +ill-humour in the night,--while the Sub-Lieutenant nervously turned +over the watch to him. + +"And we're to turn east at six, and the First Lieutenant said to be +careful to log all alterations----" + +The Captain dismissed him abruptly and turned away. As if he didn't know +his own orders! Nice thing to be told them by a young cub like that! He +would alter round just when he liked, of course. Damn the rain! He'd +alter course now and run down before the wind. If those young beggars +thought he was going to spend the next two hours facing the rain, they +were very much mistaken. Why, when he'd been their age he'd faced more +rain than they were ever likely to meet, so--he spoke an order, and the +ship came slowly round through ten points of the compass. + +"Steady, now. How's her head? South? All right; put that in the +log--time, four-twenty...." + +It was six-thirty, and the dawn and two cups of cocoa had removed a +good deal of the Captain's temper. He lit a cigarette and faced to +windward to look at the coming weather. + +"M'm," he soliloquised; "and it's going to breeze up a bit too. +There'll be some breaking seas by noon." + +As he was turning to continue his pacing of the bridge, he started and +fumbled for his binoculars. He stared a while to windward, and then, +without lowering the glasses, spoke-- + +"Starboard fifteen, quartermaster.... Steady, now.... Steer for that +white boat on the port bow,--see it?... _Messenger!_ go down and tell +the First Lieutenant I want him; and call the surgeon, too." + + + + +A MAXIM. + + + When the foe is pressing and the shells come down + In a stream like maxim fire, + When the long grey ranks seem to thicken all the while, + And they stamp on the last of the wire, + When all along the line comes a whisper on the wind + That you hear through the drumming of the guns: + "They are through over there and the right is in the air," + "And there isn't any end to the Huns." + Then keep along a-shooting till you can't shoot more, + And hit 'em with a shovel on the head. + Don't forget a lot of folk have beaten them before, + And a Hun'll never hurt you if he's dead. + If you're in a hole and your hopes begin to fail, + If you're in a losing fight, + Think a bit of Jonah in the belly of the whale, + _'Cause-he-got-out-all-right_. + + + + +FROM A FAR COUNTRY. + + +Announced by the jangling of the curtain that he had almost brought +down with his heavy suit-case, a cheerful curly-haired officer entered +noisily and dropped into one of the Wardroom arm-chairs. He stretched +his legs out and, lighting a cigarette, leaned back luxuriously. + +"Well?" said a chorus of voices, "_well_--how's London?" + +The curly-haired one smiled reminiscently. "Still standing, still +standing," he replied. "No place for you though, I'm afraid. You're +none of you good-looking enough to pass as Yanks or Colonials." + +"Oh, cut it out. Tell us what it's like. You know, you're the first +one to go there from us for a year, and we want to know." + +"What? all about it? All right; chuck a cup of tea across and I'll +give you the special correspondent's sob-stuff. _Aah!_ that's better; +this train-travelling has given me a mouth like--I won't say what. +Well, I'll try and tell you what I thought of it and the people that +live there. I may say at once that they are civilised to the extent +that they'll take English money without complaining about it, +and--_all_ right, I'll get on. + +"Well, you know how I went off laden with meat and other cards till I +was bulging, and how I reckoned to find people looking hungry at me as +if they were reckoning what I'd boil down to in a stock-pot? Well, I've +got all these cards still--didn't need 'em. I'd usually left them in my +other coat when I got started on meals, and as they've got the trick of +camouflaging fish and eggs till you don't know what you're eating, it +wasn't worth hunting 'em out. All London seems to live on eggs, and +where the deuce they all come from I don't know; they must be using up +dumps of them. Oh, and another thing, I'd forgotten that in London they +don't grow electric lighters on every bulkhead, and it was lucky I had a +few matches with me. The first day I was stopped by fellers wanting a +light off my cigarette just three times in a dog-watch, but the other +days I didn't get asked at all--I'd lost the country-cousin look, I +s'pose. Men? Yes, there's a fair sprinkling there still, but nothing +under forty, I should say. Yes, there seem to be crowds of women. +Perhaps there are actually more, or it may be that the shortage of men +makes 'em look more; but there do seem to be heaps of them. It just made +me marvel, too, at the extraordinary lack of imagination the women have. +They still wear devilish short skirts, and yet there isn't one in forty +of 'em that has a foot and ankle that one could call it decent to show. +You'd think they'd see one another's defects and get wise, but they +don't. I suppose that now the secret's out about their legs, they reckon +it's too late to hide the truth and they face it out; but I'm surprised +the young ones don't camouflage themselves a bit and get a fair start. +Theatres? Yes; I went through the list, revues and all. I read Arnold +Bennett's account of a music-hall--you know the book? Yes, I read it in +the train going down. Well, I gathered from his description that things +had flashed up a bit since the dear dead days of nineteen-sixteen, and +that I would find myself in a hall of dazzling Eastern et-ceteras; but, +my word! it was like tea at the Vicarage. I don't know what revue Arnold +Bennett found, but I guess I missed it. It's true, I saw one perfectly +_reckless_ lieutenant drop a programme out of a box into the orchestra; +but as the orchestra didn't notice it, and I doubt if the lieutenant did +either, it could hardly be put down to riotous conduct induced by drink +and sensual music. Oh, I noticed one thing--all the theatre programmes +had directions printed as to what to do in case of air-raids during the +performance. They had it printed small and sandwiched in between the +_hats by Suzanne_ and _dresses by Cox_ announcements. I liked that. It +was British and dignified. I'd like to have sent some copies to +Hindenburg. News? Yes, I heard a whole lot, but it was mostly denied in +the papers next morning. It's a queer town for rumours. I think they all +live too close together, and they get hysterical or something--like in +that Frenchman's book, you know, the 'Psychology of Crowds,' or +something like that. They weren't worrying much about the war, though. I +stopped to look at the tape-messages in the club, and there was an +eight-line chit on the board mentioning that the Hun was coming on like +a gale o' wind towards Paris, while the rest of the board had eight +full-length columns on the latest Old Bailey case, and there was another +column coming through on the machine with a crowd waiting for more. No, +I'm _not_ trying to be cynical. I read 'em all, but I hadn't quite got +the London sense of proportion in two days, and it worried me that there +was no more war news coming. + +"Cost? Yes, _rather_. I've spent whole heaps of bullion, and I'll have +to ask the Pay for an advance now. It's quite easy; you just exist +and the cash trickles off you. There's not so much of the old 'men in +uniform free' or 'half-price to officers' going now. There aren't many +civilians left, and I guess _they're_ just taking in one another's +washing. Everything that isn't a necessity is double price at least, +and I believe the shopkeepers would like to make breathing a luxury +too. On the whole, I'm glad I only had a few days there. The air's so +foul, you know. Mixture of scent and petrol, I think. Oh but, by the +way, I saw a hansom--a real hansom--in Regent Street. Quite a neat +well-kept one, too. No, nothing new in the way of dresses. Just the +same as nineteen-sixteen, as far as I could see. There may have been +some good-looking faces among the thousands in the West-end streets, +but they were cancelled by the awful legs underneath. I wonder they +ever manage to get married. Well, I saw thousands of that kind of +female--more than one ever saw before; but I met some others who +squared things up in my mind. Ten hours a day and clean the car +herself for one, and oxyacetyline welding eight hours and overtime +for another at two-five a week. Doing it to win the War, and not +because they wanted to or liked it. Made me feel small to be on leave +when I talked to 'em. And then, as I was leaving the hotel, a whole +crowd of Swiss porters and servants, that had been fairly coming the +Field-Marshal over me for three days, came oiling round me for tips, +and pocketed the cash without a word when they got it; and--and--while +they were doing it, a Scotch corporal walked past the taxi with three +wound-stripes on his arm and four notches on his bayonet hilt. It's +all a bit too puzzling for me. As soon as I got settled in one +impression, I'd get jolted out of it by another. Heigho! I'm not sorry +to have gone there to look, and I'm not sorry to be back." He rose, +and moving across the Wardroom, flung open the door of his tiny cabin +and passed in. His voice sounded hollow through the thin partition. +"Hi! outside there--some shaving water _eck dum_," and then a +contented murmur--"Lord! but it's good to be home again." + + + + +THE CRISIS. + + + When the Spartan heroes tried + To hold the broken gate, + When--roaring like the rising tide-- + The Persian horsemen charged and died + In foaming waves of hate. + + When with armour hacked and torn + They gripped their shields of brass, + And hailed the gods that light the morn + With battle-cry of hope forlorn, + "We shall not let them pass." + + While they combed their hair for death + Before the Persian line, + They spoke awhile with easy breath, + "What think ye the Athenian saith + In Athens as they dine?" + + "Doth he repent that we alone + Are here to hold the way, + That he must reap what he hath sown-- + That only valour may atone + The fault of yesterday?" + + "Is he content that thou and I-- + Three hundred men in line-- + Should show him thus how man may try + To stay the foemen passing by + To Athens, where they dine?" + + "Ah! now the clashing cymbal rings, + The mighty host is nigh; + Let Athens talk of passing things-- + But here, three hundred Spartan kings + Shall greet the fame the Persian brings + To men about to die." + + + + +A SEA CHANTY. + + + There's a whistle of the wind in the rigging overhead, + And the tune is as plain as can be. + "Hey! down below there. D'you know it's going to blow there, + All across the cold North Sea?" + + And along comes the gale from the locker in the North + By the Storm-King's hand set free, + And the wind and the snow and the sleet come forth, + Let loose to the cold North Sea. + + Tumble out the oilskins, the seas are running white, + There's a wet watch due for me, + For we're heading to the east, and a long wet night + As we drive at the cold North Sea. + + See the water foaming as the waves go by + Like the tide on the sands of Dee; + Hear the gale a-piping in the halliards high + To the tune of the cold North Sea. + + See how she's meeting them, plunging all the while, + Till I'm wet to the sea-boot knee; + See how she's beating them--twenty to the mile-- + The waves of the cold North Sea. + + Right across from Helgoland to meet the English coast, + Lie better than the likes of we,-- + Men that lived in many ways, but went to join the host + That are buried by the cold North Sea. + + Rig along the life-lines, double-stay the rails, + Lest the Storm-King call for a fee; + For if any man should slip, through the rolling of the ship, + He'd be lost in the cold North Sea. + + We are heading to the gale, and the driving of the sleet, + And we're far to the east of Three. + Hey! you German sailormen, here's the British Fleet + Waiting in the cold North Sea. + + + + +THE WAR OF ATTRITION. + + +A wonderfully deep-blue sea stretched away to meet a light-blue sky, +which was dotted with soft wool-like patches of cloud. There was a +slight smooth swell from the south-west, and the air was cool and +salt-laden. Looking from the conning-tower the hull of the boat could +be clearly seen as she rose and fell to the waves, the sunlight +flashing back steel-blue from her grey side six feet below the +surface. It was a day that showed the sea at its best--a high Northern +latitude in June, and a high barometer producing conditions under +which it seemed to be a shame to be at war. + +There were two men on the submarine's conning-tower. The smaller of +the two was her captain, a fair-haired man with a Prussian name which +seemed hardly to fit in with his Norse features. The other man hailed +from Bavaria--a tall, thin, large-headed individual, with wide-set +eyes and a nose and lower lip that hinted of Semitic ancestry. The big +U-boat jogged along at half speed, beating up and down in erratic +courses--keeping always to a water area of perhaps ten miles square. + +The two officers leaned against a rail, their heads and shoulders +twisting and turning continuously as they watched the distant horizon. +Each carried heavy Zeiss glasses slung round the neck, and from time +to time one of them would search carefully the western sea and sky, +his doing so invariably infecting his companion into doing the same. +The U-boat was running with a little less than half her normal +cruising buoyancy--for speed of diving and not surface speed was the +important qualification for her for that day. From the open +conning-tower lid came the dull hum of the engines; while as the boat +rolled, a shaft of sunlight, shining down the tower itself, sent a +circle of yellow light swinging slowly from side to side across the +deck beneath the eye-piece of the periscope. + +"Is it a big convoy this time, sir?" The First Lieutenant spoke +without checking his continual twisting and turning as he glanced at +every point of the skyline in turn. + +"Yes, it is a big convoy. But there is no doubt of their course or +their speed. We shall be among them before the sunset." + +"You would not then dive now? That is, if you are sure----" + +"I do not dive till I am sure. And also we will want all the battery +power we have before the dark. Did I not say it was a big convoy?" + +"You think there will be a big escort?" + +"We will see. I know it will be an escort I do not like to take a +chance with." + +The Lieutenant fidgeted awhile, his glasses at his eyes. His Captain +looked at his profile and at the glint of perspiration on the slightly +shaking hands, and yawned. His face, as he swung round again to scan the +horizon astern, looked bored and perhaps a little lonely. A submarine +is a small ship in which to coop up incompatible natures, and the +terrible losses of personnel in the Imperial submarine service had sadly +reduced the standard of officers. He felt sometimes as if he were an +anachronism, an officer of nineteen-fourteen who had miraculously lasted +four years. He felt that it had been only the fact that a misdemeanour +had caused him to be driven forth to the big ships for two years that +had saved him from sharing the unknown fate of his contemporaries. Well, +he reflected, it was only a matter of time before he would join them. +The law of averages was stronger than his luck, wonderful though the +latter had been. He extracted a cigar from his case and reached out a +hand to take his subordinate's proffered matchbox. As he did so he +glanced again at his companion's face, and a sudden feeling of +understanding, and perhaps a touch of compassion, made him ask-- + +"Well, Mueller? You have something that worries you. What is it, then?" + +The First Lieutenant turned and took a careful glance round the +circle of empty ocean. Then his speech came with a rush-- + +"I want to know what you think, sir. You don't seem to worry about it. +I know you can do nothing more--that one can only do one's work as +best one can and all that--but I still feel restless. How is it going +to end? We are winning? Yes--oh yes, we are winning, but we have done +that four years, and how far have we got? Before I came into +submarines I believed all they told us, but now I know that we are not +strangling England at sea, and that we never can now. What are we +going to do next? Is it to go on and on until we have no boats left? +Gott! I want to do something that will frighten them--something that +will make them understand what we are--something that will make them +scream for pity." He paused, gulped, and stared again out to the +westward. The Captain straightened himself up against the rail and +stretched his arms out in another prodigious yawn. + +"My good Mueller," he said, "you cannot carry the cares of Germany on +your back. Leave that to the Chancellor. One can be sufficiently +patriotic by doing one's work and not asking questions that others +cannot answer. As to the submarine war--well, blame the men who would +not let the Emperor have his way, that hindered him when he would have +built an equal fleet to the English. I do not mean the Socialists--I +mean others as well. I mean men who grudged money for the Navy because +they wanted it for the Army. Curse the Army! If we had had a big fleet +we would have won the war in a year, but now--ach! Look now, +Mueller--you have read Lichnowsky's Memoirs? Yes, I know you are not +allowed to, but I know you have. Now I say that what he says at the +end is true,--that the Anglo-Saxon race is going to rule the West and +the sea, that we shall only rule Middle Europe, and we were _fools_ to +play for Middle Europe when we might have had the sea. We would now +give all the Russias and Rumania and all our gains just for Gibraltar +and Bermuda, for if we had those stations all the rest would come to +us. We fight now for our honour, but if it were not for that--and that +is everything--we would give our enemies good terms." + +"But if that is true--if we can gain no more--we have lost the war!" + +The Captain shrugged. "We will have won what we do not want, and lost +all that we do; but we shall have won, I suppose. It depends on our +diplomatists. If we can get but a few coaling-stations we shall have +won, for it would all come to us when we were ready again. But you +will not gain a victory by a great stroke as you say you wish, Mueller. +The war is too big now for single strokes, and the English will not +scream for mercy now because of frightfulness. They are angry, and +they hate us now." + +"But you yourself have sunk a liner, and you showed them as she sank +that the orders of Germany must be obeyed." + +The Captain's face did not alter at all. "I did do so, and I would do +so again. My honour is clear, because I obeyed my orders. Would you +have dared to question?" + +"No--by God! and I would do it gladly." The Lieutenant's face worked, +and he scowled as he glanced astern. "I would wish that every ship of +every convoy carried women." + +The Captain laughed almost genially. "It is easy to see you are not a +Prussian," he said. "It does not matter whether you like or dislike a +thing. All that counts is whether or not it is to the advantage of the +State. So the Roman World-Empire was made. Myself, I doubt if killing +women pays us; there is this talk now of the boycott of Germany after +the war. They add time to the boycott for every time we fire on ships +that are helpless, and the boycott is to be by sailors. I would laugh +at such a threat if it was from any others, but sailors are not to be +laughed at. They are likely to mean what they say. It is as I said: if +we had fought to the West and to the sea, no man would have dared to +threaten us with a sea-boycott now." + +"But even with our small Navy we have held the English checked. It is +not our Navy that is lacking. What is it, then?" + +"It _is_ the Navy. It should have been as big as the English Fleet. +And the men--Gott! Mueller. I tell you, if we had done the Zeebrugge +attack ourselves, and I had been there, I would feel that my honour +and the Navy's honour was safe, that we could stop and make peace. I +would be proud to die on such a service, and I envy the Englishmen we +buried when it was over." + +"But this is--Herr Capitan, you talk as if you were an Englander----" + +The Captain whirled on him, his eyes sparkling dangerously. +"_Dummkopf!_" he said. "Report me if you like. I hate the English and +I love my Fatherland, but report me if you like. Ach! You may report +me in Hell, too; for I know--I know----" + +He stopped suddenly and tilted back his head to listen. The First +Lieutenant shrank back from him, his mouth open and his hands feeling +for the periscope support. A faint murmur of sound came down wind +from the fleecy cloud-banks to the west. The Captain jumped to the +opening of the conning-tower and stood, impatient and anxious by the +lip, until his lieutenant had slipped and scrambled half-way down the +ladder. + +Then he jumped down himself, pulling the lid to after him. +Simultaneously there came a rush and roar of air from venting tanks, the +stem of the boat rose very slightly as her bow-gun went under, and in +twenty seconds the submarine was gone, and the bubbles and foam of her +passage were fading into the level blue of the empty sea. A minute later +she showed a foot of periscope a cable's length away, and a small +airship topped the western horizon and came slowly along towards her. +The periscope vanished again, and forty feet below the surface the +captain watched a gauge needle beside the periscope creep round its dial +inch by inch till it quivered and steadied at the forty-metre mark. + +"Diving hands only. Fall out the rest. Remain near your stations. +Lower the periscope." The First Lieutenant barked out a repetition of +each order as the Captain spoke. There was a shuffling of feet, some +guttural conversation that spoke of a flicker of curiosity among the +men of the crew, and then all was quiet but for the hum of motors and +the occasional rattle of gearing as the hydroplane wheels were moved. +The Captain moved forward to the wardroom, removing his scarf and +heavy pilot-cloth coat as he walked. "Order some food, Mueller," he +said. "I'm hungry--that airship was farther ahead of them than usual." +He threw himself down in a long folding-chair and stretched out his +sea-booted legs. "I won't come up to look now until I hear them. +Relieve the listeners every half-hour, Mueller. I want to have good +warning. We should hear a big convoy like this at twenty miles +to-day." The curtain rings clashed and a seaman spoke excitedly as he +entered. The Captain nodded and reached out to the table for his +coffee-cup. "Just the bearing we expected," he said, "but if they +sound as faint as he says there's time to get something to eat first." + + * * * * * + +It was a big new standard ship which drew the unlucky card in the game +of "browning shots." The torpedo hit her well forward, its tell-tale +track being unperceived in the slight running swell until too late. A +big bubble of water rose abreast the break of the forecastle till it +reached deck-level, then it broke and flung a column of spray, black +smoke, and fragments skyward. As the ship cleared the smoke-haze, she +was obviously down by the head and steering wildly. Two auxiliary +patrol vessels closed on her at full speed, and the nearest freighter +increased speed and cut in ahead of her in readiness either to tow or +screen. The torpedoed ship, after yawing vaguely for a few minutes, +steadied back to the convoy's course, slowing her engines till she +only just retained steerage way. There was a rapid exchange of +signals between her and the escort vessels, and then an R.N. +Commander on an adjacent bridge gave a sigh of relief. "Good man +that," he said. "We'll have him in dry dock to-morrow. It hasn't +flurried him a bit, and I like his nerve." + +The explosion had caused more than the salvage vessels to leap into +activity. The white track of the torpedo showed clearly after it had +gone home, and the first to take action was a tramp, across whose bows +the track passed. The tramp was a ship of the early 'nineties, and her +full speed was at the most nine knots, but her skipper at once jammed +her helm hard over to steer along the torpedo-wake with a somewhat +optimistic hope of ramming. Two destroyers and an armed auxiliary did +the same thing, with the result that the tramp skipper found himself +suddenly in the cross-wash of the warships as they passed him at a few +yards' distance at twenty knots. Somebody on the bridge of one of them +screamed a profane warning at him through a megaphone, and the +skipper, after a hurried glance at the quivering destroyers' sterns, +jumped to the telegraph and stopped his engines. A couple of seconds +later his ship shook to a great detonation, and a mighty column of +water rose and broke close ahead of him. He starboarded his helm and +swung round after the rest of the convoy, his ship shaking to +successive explosions as more escorting vessels arrived at the spot +where he had turned. + + * * * * * + +As his torpedoes left the tubes the U-boat captain barked out an +order. The attack had been fairly simple, but his hardest problem was +only beginning. The boat's bow dipped sharply in answer to the tilted +hydroplanes, and she began her long slide down to the two-hundred-foot +mark. She had got to fifty before a sound like a great hammer striking +the hull told them of a successful torpedo-run. The Captain looked up +from his watch and smiled. A moment later he was watching the gauges +with a grave and impassive face. He knew that the fact of his torpedo +hitting would mean greater difficulty for him in the next few hours +than he would have known had he missed altogether. At a hundred feet +the first depth-charge exploded, smashing gauge-glasses, electric +lamps, and throwing a couple of men off their feet. The boat rocked +and rolled under the shock, while orders were roared through +voice-pipes for more emergency lights to be switched on. More charges +exploded as the boat slid downwards, but each charge was farther away +than the last. The half-light of the hand-lamps round the periscope +showed the source of a sound of pouring waters--two rivets had been +blown right out of the inner hull close before the conning-tower. The +Captain shouted orders, and the submarine levelled off her angle and +checked at the fifty-metre line, while two men began frantically to +break away the woodwork which stretched overhead and prevented the +rivet-holes being plugged. At that depth the water poured in through +the holes in solid bars, hitting the deck, bouncing back and spreading +everywhere in a heavy spray which drenched circuits and wires. + +"Mueller! where the devil are you? Start the pumps--I can't help it if +they hear us. Start the pumps, fool!" + +"But you will come up? You will----" + +"_Schweinhund! Gehorsamkeit!_ Go!" + +The pumps began to stamp and clatter as they drove the entering water +out again, but above the noise of the pumps the Captain could hear the +roaring note of propellers rushing far overhead. If it had not been +for those infernal rivets, he thought, he would have been at three +hundred feet by now, but he could not risk the extra wetting which a +pressure of a hundred and thirty pounds to the inch on the entering +water would give to his circuits. The weight of extra water in the +bilges was nothing--he could deal with that--though the thought of the +six hundred odd fathoms of water between him and the bottom was a +thing to remember anxiously in case of his getting negative buoyancy; +but if this continual spray of salt water reached his motor circuits +it would be fatal. He cursed the men who were vainly trying to block +the rivet-holes with wood wedges, and jumping on the periscope table +he tried to guide the end of a short plank--intended as a +baffle-plate--across the stream. As he stood working, a terrific +concussion shook the U-boat from stem to stern. The bows rose till men +began to slip aft down the wet deck, and from aft came a succession of +cries and shouted orders, "Close all doors! the after-hatch is falling +in--Come up and surrender--Lass uns heraus!" The Captain rose from the +deck beneath the eye-piece, shaky from his fall from the table. He +hardly dared look at the gauge, but he kept his head and his wits as +he gave his orders. With the motors roaring round at their utmost +power and an angle up by the bow of some fifteen degrees, the U-boat +held her own, and as tank after tank was blown empty, she slowly +gained on the depth gauge and began to climb. As she rose, she was +shaken again and again by the powerful depth-charges that were being +dropped on the broken water left by the air-bubble from her after +compartment--a surface-mark now a quarter of a mile astern. + +Beneath the conning-tower more and more men were gathering, some calm, +some white, trembling, and voluble. The boat broke surface with her stem +and half her conning-tower showing, then levelled a little and tore +along with the waves foaming round her conning-tower and bridge. From +inside they could clearly hear the shells that greeted her, and in a +moment there was a rush of men up the ladder. Among the first few the +Captain saw his First Lieutenant's legs vanish upwards, and at the sight +a sneering smile showed on his sunburnt face. The first man to open the +lid died as he did so, for a four-inch shell removed the top of the +conning-tower before he was clear of it. The escort was taking no +chances as to whether the boat's appearance on the surface was +intentional or accidental, and they were making the water for a hundred +yards around her fairly boil with bursting shell. As the boat tore +ahead, holding herself up on her angle and her speed, a few men +struggled out of her one by one past the torn body of the first man to +get out. Two of them leaped instantly overboard, but the next clawed his +way up to a rail, and while others scrambled and fought their way +overside, and shells crashed and burst below and around him on water and +conning-tower casing, he stood upright a moment with arms raised high +above his head. At the signal the firing ceased as if a switch had been +turned by a single hand, and he subsided in a huddled heap on the bridge +as the riddled submarine ran under. Down below the Captain still smiled, +leaning with his elbows on the periscope training-handles and watching +the hurrying men at the ladder's foot, until the great rush of water and +men, that showed that the end had come, swept him aft and away across +the border-line of sleep. + + + + +THROUGH AN ADMIRALTY WINDOW. + + +The room was exactly the same as any room in any Government building, +except that the Naval observer would have at once noticed one fact--that +the furniture was of the unchanging Admiralty pattern. The roll-top +desk, the chairs, and even the lamp-shades, would have been to him +familiar friends. They were certainly familiar to the Post-Captain who +sat at the desk. Captain Henry Ranson had been a noted Commander before +his retirement--a man of whom many tales, both true and apocryphal, +still circulated when Senior Officers of the Fleet forgathered at the +lunch intervals of Courts-Martial and Inquiries. He had little +opportunity in his present War appointment to display any of the +characteristics on which his Sagas had been based, for neither +seamanship, daring, or, well--Independent Initiative, were quite in +keeping with the routine of an Admiralty Office. + +To-day he was feeling the claustrophobia of London more acutely than +usual. The sun was shining through the big window across the room, and +he wanted to rise and look out at the blue sky and white cloud-tufts +that he knew to be showing over the buildings across the Horse Guards +Parade. His desk gave him no view through the window--he knew the +weakness of his powers of concentration on his eternal paper work too +well to have allowed himself such a distraction; but as the door +opened to admit his clerk--a firm and earnest civilian with the zeal +of monastic officialdom shining through his spectacles--he rose +abruptly and moved out into the sunlight glare. + +"Yes, Collins? What is it?" + +"A small matter, sir, which is not quite in order. If you will glance +through this you will no doubt agree with me." + +The Captain took the sheets from the clerk's outstretched hand and +moved a little away from the glaring light to read. + + SIR,--I have the honour to bring to your notice the conduct of + Skipper A. P. Marsh, of the Admiralty tug _Annie Laurie_, on the + 22nd-23rd November 1917, and I beg to recommend him for + decoration in view of the following facts:-- + + * * * * * + + On November 21st, 1917, the steamer _Makalaka_, homeward bound + with corn, was shelled by a U-boat when near the Irish coast. The + enemy was dealt with by a patrol in the vicinity, but the + _Makalaka_, proceeding east at full speed in accordance with + instructions, was thrown out of her reckoning by a damaged + compass, and found herself at dusk on a lee shore off the Galway + coast, with her shaft broken (a result of shell damage which had + not been realised to be serious at the time it was incurred). + Skipper Marsh, seeing her flares from his patrol to seaward, most + gallantly closed her and took her in tow in a rising N.W. gale. + In view of the probability of the attempt to tow failing, the + crew of the _Makalaka_ were taken aboard the tug, but the towing + was continued through a full gale lasting twenty-four hours until + the ship was out of danger.--I have the honour to be, sir, &c. + +The Post-Captain folded the letter carefully and placed it on his +desk. The clerk retrieved it, and moved towards the door. The Captain +turned, "What are you going to do with that, Collins?" + +"I take it that it needs only the usual reply, sir--that this is not +approved--with a reference to the regulation bearing on the case." + +"Why not approved, Collins?" + +The clerk was shocked, and his tone showed it. "Because that decoration +is for gallant action in face of the enemy, and this case does not come +within its scope. In any case the man will get salvage." [The Captain +made an impatient gesture.] "If the Royal Humane Society care to----" he +stopped, because the Captain had walked to the window, and, in obvious +inattention to the speaker, was staring out across the wide Horse Guards +and far beyond the fleecy clouds that drifted across the sky over the +great sea of buildings that hemmed him in. + +Captain Ranson had gone on a journey--back through forty years of +time, and across eighty-one degrees of longitude. + + * * * * * + +He ran up the gangway, straightened his helmet and dirk-belt, and +approached the Commander, who, a tall dark-featured figure, was +standing looking down on the boat as she rose and fell alongside to +the gentle heave of the Indian Ocean--"Second cutter manned, sir." + +The Commander turned and looked the boy over beneath his heavy +eyebrows. "When are you going to set up a new port shroud?" he asked. + +The Midshipman fingered the seam of his trousers, and looked carefully +at the buttons on the Commander's tunic--"I thought, sir, that is, +we've got a new shroud all fitted, but I thought--the coxswain said, +sir--that the old one would do for to-day as the wind's nothing...." + +The barometric indications of the Commander's eyes showed threatening +weather. He took the boy's arm in the grasp of a heavy hand and led +him to the rail abreast the swinging mastheads of the boat. + +"Now listen, young gentleman," he said. "What the coxswain said isn't +evidence. It's _you_ that command that boat, and _you_ that will +handle and command her. Don't talk to me again as if you were a +schoolboy." The Midshipman shivered and squinted cautiously up to see +if the storm-signals were still in evidence. The dark stern eyes were +looking down at him in a way that made him feel as if he was some +luckless worm that had unhappily bored its way up into the publicity +of an aviary. The Commander moved his hand and turned the boy to face +him. "Now, you remember this, young gentleman, only seamen come +through gales safely--it's the fools that go to sea with rusty shrouds +and weak rigging. And if you're to be a seaman you must never go to +sea, even in a flat calm, unless your ship is ready for a gale of +wind. Do you understand me?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then don't forget it, or I'll have you beaten till you grow corns. Now +shove off, and pull away three cables on the port bow, drop your anchor +on the shoal, and fit that new shroud. Remain there till the ship has +got under way, done her night-firing, and signalled you to carry on. You +will then close and weigh the target moorings, having the target ready +for hoisting when the ship comes back to you. Do you understand?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"What have you got on your anchor?" + +"A hundred and twenty fathom, sir--of four-inch." "That is +enough--there is thirty fathom on the shoal--Carry on!" + +The Midshipman ran down the gangway, and, jumping into the cutter, +"Carried on." The Commander was an officer of whom the boat-midshipmen +stood in awe, and they were always thankful when the ordeal of +reporting a possibly unready boat to him as "ready" was over. + + * * * * * + +The last shot kicked up a yellow fountain of spray in the glare of the +searchlight, and ricochetted, humming, over the target and on towards +Malaya. A rocket sailed up from the distant ship--the searchlight +flickered out a couple of Morse signs and went out, and in the velvety +darkness of a tropic night the hands went forward in the cutter to +weigh the anchor, the process of "shortening-in" having been +accomplished a full hour ago. As the Midshipman stood up to +superintend the operation, he saw a queer white line spreading and +brightening along the horizon to the westward. A dash of rain struck +his face, and a little gust of wind moaned past him. The crew looked +up from their work to wonder, and in a matter of seconds the squall +was on them. The wet hawser slipped and raced out, the hands jumping +aft to get clear of the leaping turns as the cutter swung and drew +hard on her anchor to the pressure of a tremendous wind. The white +line rushed down on them, and showed as a turmoil of frothing sea, +beaten flat by the wind into a sheet of phosphorescence veiled by +low-flying spray. For a few minutes they crouched and endured the +sudden cold and wet, then a yaw of the boat sent the bowmen forward +with suspicion in their minds. "Up and down, sir--anchor's aweigh," +came the report, in a voice that started as a roar, but reached the +Midshipman aft as a faint high wail. The Midshipman faced round to +leeward, and thought hard. He had been anchored on the only possible +shoal, and once driven off that there was no holding-ground till he +should reach the edge of the surf off Trincomalee, twenty miles +away--all between being chartered as "Five hundred and no bottom." He +called to the coxswain and clawed his way forward, picking up men by +name as he passed them. They hove up their anchor, secured mainsail, +awning, and mainmast in a dreadful tangle of rope and canvas to the +anchor-ring--hitched an outlying corner of the tangle to a bight far +up the hawser, and threw all over the bows. The cutter steadied head +to wind, and the hands moved aft to raise the bow and protect +themselves against the steady driving of the spray. + +The Midshipman lay across the backboard, staring out to the +port-quarter. Through the white haze he could see, at regular +intervals, a quick-flashing gleam of yellow light. He knew what it +was, and it did not comfort him. It was all he could see of the +twenty-thousand candlepower of Foul Point Light, and although it was +not getting much clearer it was certainly "drawing" from aft forward. +He had the rough lie of the coast in his head, and he was just +realising two things--first, that in spite of the sea anchor he was +being blown to leeward and ashore at an incredible rate; and second, +that if he could not round Foul Point across the wind, he was going to +be food for the big surf-sharks before the morning. + +He roused the crew again, and set them to the oars. Before half the +oars were out he had realised the futility of the effort, and was +trying to get them back without further damage. He corrected his error +with the loss of four oars and several feet of the cutter's +gunwale--broken off when the wind tore the long ash oars away. As he +remembered later, it was at this point that Foul Point Light began to +show clearly through the spray, and that his coxswain began to sing an +interminable hymn in the stern-sheets, and that the dark-faced Celtic +stroke-oar, a man who had the reputation of being the worst character +in all the ship, took over the helpless coxswain's duty. The +Midshipman was staring fascinated at the swinging beam of light that +was beating on them from the sand-spit broad on the quarter, when the +stroke-oar's voice in his ear changed him from a boy to an +officer--"What'll you do now, sir?" + +The question was answered on the instant--"All hands, up masts and +sails. Close-reef both, and pass the hawser aft. Lash out now, lads, +and get down to it." + +That twenty-minute evolution, by the light of a hurricane-lamp, was a +nightmare. The mainsail and mainmast were all snarled up in +miscellaneous turns of roping. The hawser was wet and cold, and seemed +fifty times its original length, but the work was done. He had felt +that no shroud, however new, would stand the strain he was going to +put on the masts, and though the men cursed and swore at the delay and +toil involved, he got what he wanted from them. One at a time the +masts were hove up and clamped in position against the half-solid +wind--the hawser, cut to length, clove-hitched round each masthead, +and frapped clear round the cutter, with the whole hove taut with +"Spanish Windlasses," till his clumsy hemp shrouds were braced to the +strain. Then he braced himself by a glance at the light, swinging +well over their heads now that they were close enough in to feel the +first lift and heave of the outer surf, and yelled an order. The +foresail rose, clattered furiously a moment against the mast, and then +filled with a bang. "_Set mainsail!_" The cutter heeled over till her +lee gunwale dipped--the masts bent and creaked, and the old boat went +tearing into the wind on the best and last sail of her varied life. +The Midshipman and the stroke-oar clung to the long tiller that was +curved like a fishing-rod under the strain. There were no gusts or +variations in the wind: it beat solidly against the canvas, heeling +the cutter to the verge of capsizing, and driving her through the +water at steamer speed. The leeway was extraordinarily great--the boat +going sideways almost as fast as she went ahead; but that leeway saved +her from going over. They cut through the outer surf off the point, +the boat leaking from the sprung keel to the opened seams where the +frapping hawser-turns bit into her thin sides--the crew baling +furiously to keep their minds from the expectation of a great crash +that would tell of a mast tearing its heel up and out through the +weather side. It lasted for barely half an hour, but the arm-weary +Midshipman felt as if it had been a four-hour watch. As the light drew +aft, he eased his sheets and swung up the channel, still at racing +speed, but safely bound for harbour. His memories in after years of +the next few hours were vague and clouded by sleep. He remembered the +sun rising as they drew in towards the silent white-walled dockyard; +the _swish_ of sand under the keel as he ran her hard up the +boat-camber beach, and nothing more, till he woke to see the dreaded +Commander--a tall white-clad figure--standing over him, looking with +keen appraising eyes at the mass of hawser-turns that swathed boat and +masts, and at the bodies of the snoring crew that lay on the hot sand +around her. + + * * * * * + +The Clerk fidgeted. He had been kept waiting for a matter of seconds, +and he did not like it. The Captain turned to face him, and, to the +surprised eyes of the Clerk, seemed to have changed suddenly into a +young man--alert, quick, and decisive. "_No_, Collins," said a strange +voice; "the man _did_ act in the face of the enemy, and I will endorse +the recommendation." He turned his eyes again to the window, but saw +only the yellow gravel, the houses, and the smoke; the fetters of +Routine seemed to clank warningly in his ears. "Yes," he said, "I have +no reason to suppose the U-boat had not followed the steamer, or that +she was not present all the time." + + + + +A MOST UNTRUE STORY. + + +The War was only in its first childhood and patrol work was still +amusing, having not yet become a monotonous and unexciting business. The +submarine was due to start back from patrol that night, and was just +loafing along at twenty odd feet depth waiting for dark. The Captain was +on watch at the periscope, swinging the instrument round from time to +time to take a general survey of the horizon, but for the most part +confining his scrutiny to the island to leeward. The island showed up +clearly--the light of the setting sun flashing back from the windows of +the buildings that looked out over the Bight. As the Captain took one of +his all-round glances, he checked suddenly and concentrated his gaze to +one point of the compass. A man who leaned against a pump six feet +away--a man who had seemed to all appearance to be on the verge of +sleep--opened his eyes, straightened up, and stood alertly watching the +brown hands that held the periscope training handles. The signal seemed +to be telepathically passed on, as in a few seconds there were six or +eight pairs of eyes watching the observer, who still peered at the +unknown sight which no one else in the boat could see. Then the Captain +moved his head back from the eye-piece, smiled (and at the smile six of +the watchers reverted to their oil-stained reading matter), and called +to the First-Lieutenant, who was at the moment engaged with an +Engine-room Artificer in a mumbled inquest over a broken air-valve +spindle. As the First-Lieutenant approached, the Captain stepped to one +side and indicated the eye-piece by a nod. His subordinate took his +place, and for a full half-minute remained slowly swivelling the great +instrument through four points and back again. When he raised his head +he was scowling and sullen. + +"Well?" said the Captain. "A good few there, eh?" + +"_Lord!_" The First-Lieutenant's voice indicated the deepest disgust. +"Thousands and thousands--and we can't get a shot at 'em!" + +"Well, there's over a thousand, anyway. I've seen at least that lot of +teal in the last couple of minutes." + +"_Teal!_ Why, sir, I can see mallard now for the next half mile, and I +could swear there'll be geese among them too." + +"Here, let me look. Yes, by gum, and not one's getting up either." +They let the periscope get to a few feet off before they paddle +away.... He swivelled slowly round the circle, then looked up at the +First-Lieutenant. "There's fog coming on. I can see the banks coming," +he said. He looked again through the periscope and intently studied +the windows on the island some three miles away. The First-Lieutenant +watched his face, and saw it slowly break into the smile of a +schoolboy meditating mischief. The First-Lieutenant began to smile +slightly also. The Captain looked up. + +"I can't help the island," he said. "War's hell, anyway. Give me a rifle +and stand by for surface." There was a clatter and the sound of +quick-passing orders; the boat's bow tilted up, and to the sound of +roaring air she broke surface fairly in the middle of the great colony +of swimming wildfowl. The hatch fell back with a clang, and a rush of +cold air beat on the excited faces of the men below the conning-tower. +Immediately there came the _Crack-crack-'rack_ of magazine-fire from the +bridge above, and the descendants of bowmen who had risked mutilation +and death to steal the Conqueror's deer forgot their discipline and +began to mount the ladder that led to the sunlight and a clear view. + +The Captain turned to shout a helm order below and swore at the packed +heads that filled the hatch-rim. "... and you come up, Number One, and +lend a hand to pick up. I've got one--missed him on the water at a +hundred and got him in the air as he rose! There he is--jump forr'd +and grab him--dammit, he's off (_crack-crack_).... No, that's stopped +him" (_bang_--the report came from the vicinity of the Captain's +knee). "What the--confound you, man--what the deuce are you doing? +Unload that pistol and take it away...." + + * * * * * + +Seven thousand yards away on the island a watcher lowered his glasses +and reached for the button of the alarm bell. In two seconds the +island was awake, and down in the lower battery men rushed to their +stations. With clatter and turmoil the big guns were cleared away and +the observing officer roared the order to "Stand by" into the +telephone mouthpiece. + +"What is it, Schultz? Can you see? Ach! she is going to bombard--the +little swine of a boat. Give me the telescope. Ach, Gott! are they not +reported ready, fool?" The Major was excited and bristling. + +"Ready now--all but number six." + +"At six thousand five hundred metres--all guns--Gott strafe der +schmutzige ... he has dived!..." + + * * * * * + +The First-Lieutenant sprang up the outer ladder of the conning-tower, +the bleeding spoil clutched in his hand. The Captain turned to look +astern and became aware of the fact that the gallery, as represented +by the bridge and rails, was tenanted by an enthusiastic and +interested selection of his crew. "What the devil--is this a cinema or +my ship? Don't you know your orders yet? Every man-jack of you...." He +herded them below to the tune of a voluble hymn of hate, and followed +the last of the grinning culprits down. As the boat levelled off at +her previous diving depth, he swung the periscope round to search the +horizon again to seaward. A moment later "Diving stations," and to the +hydroplane men, "Take her on down." + +The First-Lieutenant left the luckless mallard on the table and +elbowed his way aft again through the cluster of men closing up to +their stations. Reaching the control position, he looked inquiringly +at the Captain, who, having lowered the periscope, was leaning with +folded arms against a group of valves abreast it. + +"Thick fog coming down. Going to bottom till dark now. Have a look at +the soundings, will you--or tell Henley to let me know." + +The First-Lieutenant moved back to speak to another officer, who was +already bending over the chart-table. The Captain turned his head to +watch the gauge beside him, the needle of which was slowly creeping +upwards and around the circle. As it moved the gentle rolling of the +boat that had been noticeable before ceased, and she steadied until +she gave the idea of being high and dry in some silent dock. The +officer, generally known as "Pilot," or--to his intimates and +contemporaries--as "Rasputin" (a name, it should be explained, which +had no possible application to him, except for the fact that he wore a +beard), appeared at the Captain's side with a folded chart in his hand. + +"We should touch at ninety by the gauge, sir," he said. "We must be +about four miles from the land now." + +The Captain nodded. "Yes, it may be a little more, though. Have the +crew got a sweep on this?" + +"No, sir. This is an extra dive, and they haven't had time to get one +up. D'you want to bet on under or over ninety, sir?" + +"I do not. I won last night's sweep, and lost it to you in side-bets, +and I'm not taking any more. Stop the motors!" + +The gauge had reached the eighty-foot mark, and the boat under the +influence of her headway was still driving the needle slowly round. At +ninety feet the Captain looked at the Pilot, smiled, and started the +motors again. Hardly had he given the order when the needle checked, +rose a little, and then crept back to ninety-five. "_Stop the motors!_ +I've lost a chance there, Pilot--'Wish I'd had a bet on that." + +He stood watching the gauge a moment longer, and then turned to walk +to the Wardroom. + +"Pipe down--usual sentries only," he ordered. "Tell my servant to get +me some washing water." + +He threw the curtain aside, and joined the two officers who stood +looking solemnly at the mallard, which lay on a gory newspaper in the +centre of the table. For a moment there was silence. + +"Well," said the Captain cheerfully, "it's not as smashed as it might +be. It'll do for a pie to-morrow." + +"'Mm," said the First-Lieutenant, "'Keeper at home used to call +rabbits that looked like that 'ferrets' food.'" + +"Not a bit of it," rejoined the Captain; "if we mash him in a pie +he'll be all right." + +There was another pause while the First-Lieutenant tucked an extra fold +of newspaper beneath the corpse--then, after a quick glance and nudge +for the Pilot's benefit, he spoke in a detached and dispassionate voice. + +"Of course, it was poaching." + +The Captain's brown face began to slowly take on the colour of the +gore on the table--then he exploded-- + +"What d'you mean? ... _poaching_--it's below high-water mark, isn't it?" + +"Well, sir--we don't know the rules in this country, and we were +pretty well in their waters." + +"But it's offshore. Why shouldn't I shoot their duck? It's not +preserved, either. _Poaching!_ I never poached anything--not since I +was at school anyway." He scowled at the duck and the officers +impartially. The officers clutched each other by the arms, then the +Pilot walked hastily to a low-set bunk and buried his head in the +pillow. The Captain changed his frown for a smile as the situation +dawned on him, then, snatching the parallel rulers from the +chart-table he began to belabour the most accessible portion of his +gurgling subordinate's anatomy. + + + + +PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS. + + + + +Transcriber's Note + + + * Obvious punctuation and spelling errors repaired. + + * "Compass card" and "compass-card" retained as printed. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of H.M.S. ----, by Klaxon + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK H.M.S. ---- *** + +***** This file should be named 34190.txt or 34190.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/1/9/34190/ + +Produced by Larry B. 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