With Beatty off Jutland Part 2

"They've opened the one-sided ball," remarked Sefton as a dull boom from the now invisible German s.h.i.+ps--a single report that was quickly taken up by other heavy weapons--was borne to the ears of the _Calder's_ crew.

"And, by Jove, Whit-Monday too."

"Yes," a.s.sented the doctor. "And ten to one the beach is crowded with holiday-makers. Before we left port, didn't we see some idiotic report in the papers stating that the East Coast would be ready for holiday visitors 'as usual'?"

"Let's hope the Huns will get cut off again," said the sub. "Another _Blucher_ or two will make them sit up."

"They're too wary," replied the somewhat pessimistic medico. "They've been warned that the coast is clear. Before the submarines from Harwich can come up they'll be off. And with twelve hours of daylight in front of them they'll be back long before our sixth destroyer flotilla can make a night attack."

For nearly twenty minutes the officers and men listened in silence to the furious bombardment. Several of the latter had homes in the town that now lay exposed to the enemy guns. Realizing their helplessness, they could only hope that the damage done was no greater than that of the previous naval attack on the same place, and that this time the Cat Squadron would intercept the raiders and exact a just and terrible retribution.

At length the firing ceased almost as suddenly as it had begun. In vain the destroyer's crew waited long and anxiously for the renewal of the cannonade in the offing that would announce the gratifying news that Beatty had once more intercepted the returning Huns.

At 20 knots the _Calder_ returned towards the position in which she had left the two trawlers. With feelings of relief it was seen that both craft were still afloat and apparently all well.

Suddenly one of the look-outs raised the shout of: "Submarine on the starboard bow, sir!"

Without a moment's hesitation Crosthwaite telegraphed for full speed, at the same time ordering the quartermaster to port helm.

A mile and a half away could be discerned the elongated conning-tower and partly housed twin periscopes of a large submarine, although why in broad daylight the unterseeboot--for such she undoubtedly was--exposed her conning-tower above the surface was at first sight perplexing.

With the for'ard 4-inch quick-firer loaded and trained upon the meagre target the _Calder_ leapt forward at a good 24 knots, ready at the first sign of the submerging of the submarine to send a projectile cras.h.i.+ng into and pulverizing the thin steel plating of her conning-tower.

So intent was the lieutenant-commander upon his intended prey that he had failed to notice the proximity of a black-and-white can buoy now almost on the starboard bow. It was not until Sefton reminded him of the fact that he realized that the destroyer was doing her level best to pile herself upon the Haisborough Sands--a feat that the German submarine had already accomplished to the rage and mortification of her officers and crew.

Listing violently outwards, the destroyer swung round clear of the treacherous shoal, and for the first time Crosthwaite was aware of the ignominious predicament of the unterseeboot.

"The beggar may have a broadside torpedo-tube," he remarked to his subordinate as he ordered the _Calder_ to be swung round, bows on to the stranded craft, speed having been reduced to give the destroyer more steerage-way. "Give her a round with the for'ard gun. Plank a sh.e.l.l a hundred yards astern."

The shot had the desired effect. The conning-tower hatch was thrown open, and the head and shoulders of a petty officer appeared. For a few moments he hesitated, looking thoroughly scared, then his hands were extended above his head.

In this position of surrender he remained, until, finding that the destroyer made no further attempt to sh.e.l.l the submarine, he emerged from the conning-tower. Two officers followed, and then the rest of the crew--twenty-two all told. The officers stood upon the steel grating surrounding the conning-tower, for the tide had now fallen sufficiently to allow the platform to show above water. The rest of the crew, wading knee-deep, formed up in a sorry line upon the after part of the still submerged hull, and, with uplifted hands, awaited the pleasure of their captors.

"Fetch 'em off, Mr. Sefton," ordered the lieutenant-commander. "Half of 'em at a time."

The sub hastened to order away the boat. As he did so Dr. Stirling nudged him and whispered in his ear:

"Shall I lend you a saw, old man?"

"A saw!" repeated Sefton in astonishment. "What on earth for?"

"Skipper said you were to bring half of them at a time," explained the irresponsible medico with a grin. "Better try the top half of each man first trip."

"That'll do, Pills," retorted the sub. "If it's surgery you're after, you had better do your own dirty work."

"Give way, lads," ordered the sub as the boat drew clear of the steel wall-side of the destroyer.

"We surrender make," declared the kapitan of the submarine as the boat ranged up alongside. "We haf a leak sprung."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WE SURRENDER MAKE.... WE HAF A LEAK SPRUNG"]]

"Sorry to hear it," rejoined Sefton.

"Is dat so?" enquired the perplexed German, mystified at his foe's solicitude.

"Yes," soliloquized the sub. "We would much rather have collared the strafed submarine intact. We didn't bargain for her keel plates being stove in.

"Now then!" he exclaimed. "I'll take eleven of you men first trip."

The c.o.xwain and bowman of the boat deftly engaged their boat-hooks in convenient projections of the submarine's conning-tower, while the specified number of dejected and apprehensive Huns was received on board.

Having delivered the first batch of prisoners on the destroyer, Sefton returned, but, instead of immediately running alongside the prize, he ordered his men to lie on their oars. With the boat drifting at a distance of twenty yards from the unterseeboot, the sub coolly awaited developments.

The Huns--officers and men alike--were far from cool. Gesticulating wildly, they implored the sub to take them off. Never before had Sefton seen a greater anxiety on the part of the Germans to abandon their s.h.i.+p, and in the course of eleven months' service in the North Sea his knowledge of the ways of the wily Hun was fairly extensive.

At length two of the submarine's crew, unable to restrain their panic, leapt overboard and struck out for the boat.

"Stand by with a stretcher, there, Jenkins," ordered Sefton. "Show them what we mean to do. Knock them over the knuckles if they attempt to grasp the gunwale."

"We surrender do, kamerad!" shouted the Huns in dolorous chorus, seeing their companions repelled from the waiting boat.

"Yes, I know," replied Sefton. "You've told me that already. A few minutes' wait won't hurt you. There's plenty of time."

"Back oars!" ordered the sub, as the Germans, terrified beyond measure, slid from the submarine's deck into the water, officers and men striking out frantically.

Thirty seconds later came the dull m.u.f.fled sound of an explosion. A thin wreath of vapour issued from the open conning-tower.

"Not much of a bust-up that," exclaimed Sefton contemptuously. "It would not have flicked a fly from her deck. Well, I suppose I must take the beggars into the boat."

The lightness of the explosion had also astonished the German officers.

Adopting their usual procedure they had fixed three detonators in the hull of the stranded vessel, and upon the approach of the _Calder's_ boat the second time they had lighted the four-minute time-fuses.

Sefton, guessing rightly what had been done, had resolved to give the Huns, not a bad quarter of an hour, but a worse three minutes. He, too, expected to see the submarine's hull disintegrated by a terrific explosion.

On the boat's return to the destroyer with the rest of the prisoners, Sefton made his report to the lieutenant-commander.

"Can't blame them," declared Crosthwaite. "In similar circ.u.mstances we would have done the same, but with better results, I hope. Send that petty officer aft; I want to speak to him."

The man indicated was, as luck would have it, the fellow responsible for lighting the fuses. Putting on his fiercest expression, Lieutenant-Commander Crosthwaite sternly taxed him with attempting to destroy the submarine after she had surrendered.

Taken aback, the man admitted that it was so.

"How many detonators?" asked Crosthwaite.

"Three, Herr Kapitan."

"And what time-fuses?"

"Four-minutes," was the reply.