CHAPTER V--Sefton to the Rescue
"A tug and a couple of lighters bearing down, sir," reported the_Calder's_ look-out before the diver had reappeared from his errand ofinvestigation.
Approaching at the modest rate of 7 knots was a paddle-wheel steamertowing two unwieldy craft resembling overgrown canal barges.
The tide was now well on the flood. It wanted about a couple of hoursto high water, and, since the falling glass and clear visibility ofdistant objects betokened the approach of bad weather, urgent stepswould have to be taken speedily to extricate the captured submarine fromthe embraces of the sand-bank.
The examination of the prize by her captors was now practicallycomplete. The U boat was one of a new type, and had left Wilhelmshavenon her maiden trip forty-eight hours previously. She had either losther bearings or had purposely approached shoal water. Anyhow she hadbeen neatly strafed before she had had time to do much mischief.
Already the _Calder's_ crew had taken steps to assist the salvage peoplein the task of floating the prize. The hatchways, with the exception ofthat of the conning-tower, had been hermetically closed, and thewatertight doors in the for'ard bulkhead shut and shored up to withstandthe pressure of water in the holed fore-peak.
By the time the lighters were made fast, one on either side of thesubmarine, the level of the water was up to within fifteen inches of theconning-tower hatchway. Quickly hoses, connected to Downton pumps, wereled from the lighters to the water-ballast tanks of the submarine, sinceit had been found impossible to "start" the ballast by means of handpumps.
It was a race against time and tide. The mechanical appliances won, andsoon the _Calder's_ officers and crew had the satisfaction of seeing thesubmarine's deck appear close to the surface.
She still had a pronounced "dip", the flooded for'ard compartmenttending to depress her bow; but, supported by the two lighters, she wasprevented from sinking. Then, taken in tow by the tug, the prize, withher cumbersome attendants, waddled slowly for Harwich.
Her part in this supplementary business ended, the _Calder_ slipped offat full speed to the position where the _Dimpled Lassie_ and the _Carseo' Gowrie_ still held a resolute grip on the recovered cable.
As Skipper M'Kie had surmised, neither of the trawlers had been molestedby the German battle-cruisers or destroyers. Carried away by theirfrantic desire to make a display of frightfulness upon an unprotectedEnglish watering-place they had totally ignored the seemingly innocuouscable-grappling craft.
"It will blow like billy-oh before morning," remarked LieutenantCrosthwaite to his subordinate. "I'm going to tell them to buoy and slipthe cable. We've done very well, I think. You might make anobservation; I'll take another, and we'll check our calculations. I'llguarantee we won't have much trouble in fishing up the cable next time."
Crosthwaite's orders to the skippers of the trawlers were smartlycarried out, and the cable, left with its position marked by a greenwreck-buoy, a sufficient guarantee against detrimental examination bycurious fishermen. Before sunset the _Calder_ and her two charges weresnug in Lowestoft harbour, the crews being cautioned against the risk ofletting fall any hint concerning their recent work--an injunction thatthey loyally carried out.
It was three days before the gale blew itself out. During that periodevents had been moving rapidly. And here one of the few advantages ofbeing on particular service became apparent. Had not the _Calder_ beendetailed for escort duties to the cable-grappling trawlers the chanceswere that she would be plugging against heavy green seas, while those ofher crew not on duty on deck would be existing under battened hatches.Instead, the destroyer was lying snugly berthed in a harbour, and hercrew were able to enjoy brief spells of liberty ashore.
The next step was to locate the shore end of the cable. This workrequired particular skill and discretion, since the German operatorwould certainly be on the alert for the first suspicious movement.
Scotland Yard detectives, disguised as fishermen and longshoremen,eventually succeeded in tracing the source of the leakage ofinformation. The temporary cable had been brought ashore nearly fourmiles from the original landing-place of the severed line, and led to awooden hut on the edge of the sandy cliffs.
For the present, all that was required to be done in that direction wasperformed. The Admiralty had decided to let the cable turn the tablesupon the Huns, and, until the time was ripe, the spy could telegraphwithout interruption, but unwittingly he was digging a pit for himselffrom which no escape was possible.
It was well into the third week in May when the _Calder_ received ordersto proceed to Rosyth, replenish stores and oil-fuel, and rejoin herflotilla. The news was hailed with delight, since it was possible thatmany of the officers and crew would be able to proceed on leave.
Another week passed. Information had reached the Commander-in-Chief ofa certain amount of German activity in the North Sea. Something had tobe done to attract the attention of the German populace from the seriesof rebuffs experienced by the Huns before Verdun. Exaggerated reportsconcerning the prowess of the German High Seas Fleet, coupled with newsof spasmodic raids upon the British coast, helped to foster theill-founded belief of the Huns in the invincibility of their navy,while, to keep up the deceit, Admiral von Scheer took his ships out forvarious discreet cruises off the Danish coast, where there was ever apossibility of making a quick run back under the guns and behind theminefields of Heligoland.
On the 29th May orders were issued for the First and Second BattleSquadrons and the Second Battle-Cruiser Squadron to proceed to a certainrendezvous in order to carry out target practice. The instructions wereissued through the usual channels, with the almost certain knowledgethat the information would leak out. The Commander-in-Chief'santicipation proved to be correct, for within three hours of the issuingof the order the news was transmitted to Germany by means of the tappedcable.
It was not the Admiral's intention to carry out target practice.Instead, the whole of the Grand Fleet put to sea from its various bases,ostensibly for the neighbourhood of the Orkneys, but in reality for afar more important objective.
At 1 a.m. on the 31st the authorities raided the isolated hut on theNorfolk coast, captured the German telegraph operator in the act ofcommunicating with Borkum, and hurried him away under close arrest. Hehad played his part as far as the British interests were concerned,since he had informed the German Admiralty of the supposed rendezvous ofJellicoe's fleet.
"Do you think there's something in the wind, sir?" asked Sefton, as the_Calder_, in station with the rest of her flotilla, was slipping alongat 18 knots.
Crosthwaite smiled enigmatically. He knew as much as captains of shipswere supposed to know, which wasn't very much, but more than theirsubordinates were told.
"Patience!" he replied. "Can't say more at present. You might see howrepairs to that 4-inch gun are progressing."
Sefton descended the bridge ladder and made his way aft. Slight defectsin the mounting of the stern-chaser quick-firer had appeared almost assoon as the destroyer left the Firth of Forth, and the armourer's crewwere hard at work rectifying the damage.
Gripping the stanchion rail surrounding the gun platform, for the_Calder_ was rolling considerably in the "wash" of her precedingconsorts, and exposed to a stiff beam wind, the sub watched theoperation. He had no need to ask any questions; there was little aboutthe mechanism of a 4-inch and its mountings that he did not know. Hecould see that the repairs were almost completed, only a few finishingtouches requiring to be done.
"Man overboard!"
The sub rushed to the side just in time to see the outstretched arms ofa bluejacket emerging from the following wave of the swiftly movingcraft. It was indeed fortunate that the man was still alive, not onlyhad he escaped having his back broken on striking the water, but he hadmissed the rapidly revolving starboard propeller. Clad in a "duffel"suit and wearing sea-boots, his position was precarious in the extreme.
Without hesitation Sefton made a flying leap over the
guard-rails. Onceclear of the side he drew up his legs and hunched his shoulders,striking the water with tremendous force. Well it was that he had takenthis precaution instead of making a dive in the ordinary sense of theword, for, carried onward at the rate of a mile every three minutes, heran a serious risk of dislocated limbs or a broken back had he notrolled himself into the nearest resemblance to a ball.
"WITHOUT HESITATION SEFTON MADE A FLYING LEAP OVER THEGUARD RAILS"]
He sank deeply, and was swept irresistibly by the back-wash; it seemedas if he were fathoms down. Before he emerged he could distinctly hearthe whirr of the triple propellers. Rising to the surface he refilledhis lungs with the salt-laden air, for the concussion had wellnighdeprived him of breath. Then he gave a hurried glance around him.
The _Calder_ was already a couple of cables' lengths away, while thedestroyer next astern was almost on top of him. As she swept by, alifebuoy was hurled towards the sub, luckily missing him by a bare yard.
The second and last destroyer astern saw the swimmer, and by portinghelm avoided him easily, and saved him from the great discomfort ofbeing flung about in her wake like a pea in a saucepan of boiling water.Without making any attempt to slow down and send a boat, the destroyerflotilla held on.
Sefton soon realized the necessity for this apparently inexplicable act.It was impossible without grave risk to the flotilla to break up theformation, while the danger was still further increased by the fact thatthe First Cruiser Squadron was pelting along somewhere three or fourmiles astern, and these vessels, being of a considerable tonnage,carried a tremendous amount of way. Above all, it was war-time, andindividuals do not count when greater issues are at stake.
Presently the sub descried the head and shoulders of the missing man ashe rose on the crest of the broken waves. He, too, had succeeded inreaching a lifebuoy thrown by the nearmost destroyer. Short as had beenthe time between the man's tumble overboard and Sefton's deliberateleap, owing to the speed of the flotilla nearly a quarter of a mileseparated the would-be rescuer from the object of his gallant attempt.
"No use hanging on here," thought Sefton, as he clung to the buoy."Must get to the man somehow."
Then it was that he realized that he had gone overboard in a thick pilotcoat and india-rubber sea-boots. These he sacrificed regretfully, sincethere was no chance of replenishing his kit until the _Calder_ returnedto port--that is, if he had the good fortune to survive his adventure"in the ditch". The operation of discarding the boots gave him atussle, during which he swallowed more salt water than desirable; then,relaxing his grip on the lifebuoy, Sefton struck out towards the man.
The sub was a good swimmer. At Dartmouth he had been "runner-up" forthe 440 yards championship, but now he realized the vast differencebetween swimming that length in regulation costume and an equal distancealmost fully clothed in the choppy North Sea.
By the time the sub came within hailing distance of the seaman his limbsfelt as heavy as lead, while, do what he would, he was unable to raisehis voice above a whisper, much less "assure the drowning man in a loud,firm voice that he is safe", according to the official regulations.Sefton was by no means certain that he himself was in anything but amost precarious position.
Sefton found that the man he had risked his life to save was not half soexhausted as he was. The seaman had come off lightly in his fall, andhe had had no occasion to tire himself with a long swim to the lifebuoy,since the crew of the passing destroyer had all but brained him with thecork "Kisbie".
The A.B. regarded his rescuer with a look that betokened paineddisapproval. He was one of those men who are ever "up againstdiscipline". To him the gold band and curl on a uniform meant somethingmore than authority: it roused a spirit of sullen aggression.
And yet Thomas Brown had joined the Royal Navy with the best intentions.Fate, in the shape of a short-tempered recruiting-officer, had marredhis career from the very start; for, on joining the training-school atShotley, one of the questions asked of him was the name of hisbirthplace.
"Ashby-de-la-Zouch, sir," replied young Brown, giving the name with theaccepted Leicestershire accent.
"Where did you say?" enquired the lieutenant.
The recruit repeated the words.
"Zoo, did you say?" snapped the officer.
"Yes, sir," rejoined Thomas Brown without a moment's hesitation. "Thenext cage to yours."
The repartee came absolutely on the spur of the moment. A second'sreflection might have made all the difference. It was a bad start, andthe newly-entered boy suffered for it. That was some years ago, but inthe Royal Navy the old adage of giving a dog a bad name holds goodlonger than anywhere else.
Sefton recognized the man as one who figured frequently in the"Captain's Report". Young as he was, the sub had a keen insight intohuman nature, and although he knew nothing of the first slip that hadmarred the A.B.'s career he was certain that there were good points inthe man, and that underneath his rugged, surly exterior there wassomething of true worth.
"No need for you to tumble into the ditch after me, sir," said the man."I can shift for myself."
He spoke gruffly, but underlying the remonstrance was an unmistakabletone of gratitude. In the circumstances he was glad of company. Hewould have welcomed his "raggie", or chum, in preference to an officer,but at such times the difference of rank gives place to the equality ofhuman peril.
"They'll pick us both up," declared Sefton, although in his mind he hadgrave doubts as to the matter.
"Not they," rejoined A.B. Brown, indicating the direction of the nowinvisible flotilla with a jerk of his closely-cropped head. "Thecruisers might. But take hold of this, sir," he added, pushing the buoyto within reach of the sub. "You looks as if you want it a long sightmore'n me."
Both men relapsed into silence. Further conversation meant a waste ofprecious breath. At intervals, as the buoy rose on the billows, Sefton"hiked" his head and shoulders well clear of the water in the hope ofsighting the armoured-cruiser squadron.
"They're a precious long time in coming up," he soliloquized. "Sevenminutes ought to have done the trick."
As a matter of fact, the First Cruiser Squadron had received a wirelessmessage from the _Calder_ within ninety seconds of Sefton's leapoverboard, requesting the vessels to keep a sharp look-out for the twomen.
On receipt of the intelligence the armoured cruisers' speed was reducedto 10 knots, and this accounted for the seemingly endless time thatelapsed before the vessels came within sight of the two well-nighexhausted men as they clung to the lifebuoy.
At length, through the light haze that prevailed throughout the morning,could be discerned the grey outlines of the First Cruiser Squadron.
The ships were steaming in double column, line ahead, the _Defence_,flying the Rear-Admiral's flag, leading the starboard and the _Warrior_the port line. With faultless precision they came on, three cables'distance separating the units of each division, and twice that intervalbetwixt the columns.
"They've spotted us, sir," exclaimed Able Seaman Brown, as thealteration of position of the red flag and green cone displayed from thecruiser's mainmast yard-arm told the two men that the _Warrior's_ helmwas being ported. Simultaneously the "steaming cones" were reversed,showing that the ship's engines were going astern--a manoeuvre followedby the rest of the squadron.
Almost before way was taken off the ship the _Warrior's_ sea-boat wasrapidly lowered from the davits. Sefton could hear the dull thud of thelower blocks as the releasing-gear came into action and the falls surgedagainst the ship's side, and the treble-voiced midshipman urging hisboat's crew to "give way there, my lads, for all you're worth."
Although only a minute and a half elapsed between the time the sea-boatgot away from the ship and her arrival at the scene of the rescue, theinterval seemed interminable to Sub-lieutenant Sefton.
With feelings of indescribable relief he realized that he was beinggripped by two pairs of horny powerful hands and lifted over the dippinggunwale into th
e stern-sheets, while others performed a like office forthe saturated A.B.
Smartly the sea-boat was brought alongside the cruiser. Deftly thehoisting-gear was engaged, and with a hundred-and-twenty men tailing onthe falls the boat and her occupants were whisked up to a level with thevessel's quarter-deck.
And thus Acting Sub-lieutenant John Sefton found himself on board H.M.S._Warrior_, in blissful ignorance of the gallant part the armouredcruiser was about to bear in the glorious battle off the Jutland Bank.