With Beatty off Jutland Part 9

His companion looked at him in astonishment.

"I mean it," continued the sub. "We won't be in action again for quite ten minutes, unless those Huns take it into their heads to alter course--which I don't fancy will be at all likely."

He pointed to five faint objects scurrying farther away through the patches of haze. They were German light cruisers, which, having had a taste of the salvoes of the leading s.h.i.+ps of the First Cruiser Squadron, had thought it prudent to sheer off.

"Then look slippy, old bird," said the other. "I'm rather keen on getting the thing; I'd go myself if I were not here on duty with a capital D. I'll pa.s.s the word for the covers to be left open for your return."

Gaining the shrouds, Sefton descended cautiously, for already fragments of exploding sh.e.l.ls had cut through several of the wire strands, and had played havoc with the ratlines.

Gaining the fore-bridge, he descended the ladder to the superstructure, and, pa.s.sing in the wake of the trained-abeam turrets, reached the only hatchway leading to the main deck that had not been closed with an armoured lid.

'Tween decks the air was hot and oppressive. The confined s.p.a.ce reeked with cordite fumes. Through the brown haze a streak of yellow light played upon the deck--a beam of sunlight entering through a jagged sh.e.l.l-hole in the s.h.i.+p's side.

Farther along, a party of sick-bay men were lowering a stretcher through a hatchway. On the stretcher was strapped a wounded petty officer, one of whose legs had been shattered below the knee.

The man was struggling violently, and expostulating in no mild terms.

Ignorant of his terrible injuries, he was insisting on being allowed to return to his station and "have another smack at the Huns".

"Can't go no farther this way, sir," announced a marine, recognizing the sub, and knowing that he was new to the s.h.i.+p. "Bulkhead doors are shut.

There's a way round past the issue-room, sir, down this 'ere ladder."

The "issue-room" was open. An electric lamp illuminated the irregular-shaped s.p.a.ce, which on one side was bounded by the convex base of the after turret, a 6-inch wall of hard steel.

Sefton could hear voices raised in loud and vehement argument: two a.s.sistant s.h.i.+p's stewards were discussing the respective merits of music-hall favourites.

A third voice joined in the discussion--that of one of the s.h.i.+p's boys.

"'Taint neither the one or t'other," he began. "I was a-saying----"

"Then don't say it, but get on with your job," interrupted the first speaker. "Those casks look a regular disgrace. You haven't polished the bra.s.swork for more'n three days, and it's captain's rounds to-morrow."

The next instant came a regular avalanche of flour-sacks, casks, copper measures, and other paraphernalia pertaining to the s.h.i.+p's steward's department. Across the raised coaming of the doorway tripped the three occupants of the issue-room, landing in a struggling, confused heap at Sefton's feet.

From a distance of nearly nine miles an 11-inch sh.e.l.l had hit the _Warrior_ abreast of the after turret. It was some little time before it was realized that the damage was slight.

The first to pick himself up was the s.h.i.+p's steward's boy.

"Guess you don't want me to carry on with that there polis.h.i.+ng job," he remarked nonchalantly, as he heaved the winded petty officer to his feet and indicated the debris of the bra.s.s-bound casks.

Sefton lost no time in fetching the camera from the gun-room. Slinging it round his neck, he gained the upper deck, and began his ascent to the fire-control platform.

"Thanks," said his companion, as the sub handed the precious apparatus to him. "You're only just in time. Those light cruisers have altered helm 16 points. Looks fishy, by Jove! They've something behind them to back them up."

It was now nearly six o'clock. Already the _Defence_ was hurling sh.e.l.ls at the leading German light cruiser at 14,000 yards, the range momentarily decreasing as the two squadrons closed.

The Huns were certainly not devoid of pluck, although, as Sefton's chum had remarked, they evidently had some card up their sleeves.

For the next fifteen minutes the _Warrior_ and her consorts were at it "hammer and tongs", directing a furious fire into the head of the approaching column. One of the hostile cruisers, hit by a double salvo from the _Warrior_ and the _Defence_, capsized and sank. Another, burning fiercely in three different places, hauled out of line.

"Great sport, isn't it?" exclaimed Sefton's companion, setting down his range-finder, for the distance had now decreased to 5000 yards, so that the gun-layers were able to trace their weapons independently of orders from the fire-control.

Suddenly and unexpectedly a salvo of heavy sh.e.l.ls hurtled through the haze, and, with deadly precision, riddled the flags.h.i.+p _Defence_ through and through. Her masts and funnels went by the board, flames burst from her for'ard, 'mids.h.i.+ps, and aft, while with her engines disabled she dropped slowly astern.

It was now the _Warrior's_ turn to lead the line. As she forged ahead, other enormous sh.e.l.ls straddled her, coming in different direction from the tempest of shot that had crippled the _Defence_.

"By Jove!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sefton. "We're in for it now."

Between the drifting clouds of smoke could be discerned the huge shapes of a dozen large battles.h.i.+ps and battle-cruisers, not those of Jellicoe's command, but flying the Black Cross ensign of Germany. On the port side, at less than 4000 yards, were four hostile battle-cruisers. At a similar distance to starboard were at least five battles.h.i.+ps of the _Konig_ cla.s.s.

The _Warrior_ and _Defence_, hemmed in by vastly superior numbers, and menaced by guns of far greater calibre, were seemingly doomed to annihilation. All that remained, as far as human judgment went, was to fight to the last and worthily uphold the glorious traditions of the Senior Service.

The _Warrior_ held grimly on her way, battered fore and aft on all sides from the gradually contracting circle of big German s.h.i.+ps. In spite of the terrific hail of projectiles rained upon her, the _Warrior_ still maintained a rapid and determined fire. It was against overwhelming odds, and the Huns knew it.

Presently a violent thud caused the already trembling fire-control platform to shake to such an extent that Sefton quite thought the whole concern was about to tumble over the side. A sh.e.l.l had shattered the fore-topmast, the debris falling athwart the steel canopy protecting the range-finding officers. With the topmast came a raffle of gear, including the wireless aerials.

By this time the cruiser was hulled over and over again. Several of her 7-inch-gun turrets had been bodily swept away with their crews; two funnels had gone by the board; the remaining pair, perforated like sieves, were held in position merely by the wire guys. A fierce fire was raging aft, an incendiary sh.e.l.l having landed in the wardroom, while a heavy dose of poison-gas prevented any of the crew from attempting to quench the flames.

Twelve minutes of terrible battering the _Warrior_ stood, until an 11-inch sh.e.l.l, ripping through her 6-inch armoured belt, burst inside the port engine-room, shattering the main steam-pipe.

The scene in the confined s.p.a.ce was terrible beyond description. The concussion had shattered every electric lamp, the oil ones were extinguished by the noxious fumes. The floor of the engine-room was flooded to a depth of four inches with scalding water that surged to and fro with each roll of the sorely-pressed vessel, and added to the torments of the men already wounded by the sh.e.l.l explosion.

Yet even in that inferno there were men whose courage did not desert them, and dozens of heroic and never-to-be-recorded deeds were performed in the darkness of the scalding engine-room.

Then the starboard engine-room was swept by the explosion of a sh.e.l.l, increasing to a terrible extent the casualties amongst the courageous "black squad". For nearly two miles the _Warrior_ carried away, until, deprived of the means of propulsion, she lay, a battered hulk, surrounded by her enemies.

It was the story of the _Revenge_ over again, but with a different sequel.

Sefton realized that he and his companions were virtually prisoners in the fire-control platform. Even had they dared to risk descending through that tornado of shrapnel and flying slivers of molten steel, their means of escape was limited to one solitary shroud. The rest, "whipped" into a confused tangle, were trailing over the s.h.i.+p's sides.

Pa.s.sive spectators, for their work aloft was done, they awaited the end, their eyes fixed upon the German battle-cruisers as at intervals they became visible through the drifting cloud of smoke and steam.

Only two guns of the _Warrior_ were now replying to the hostile fire, barking slowly, yet resolutely, as they sent their projectiles hurtling through the air at the nearmost of the a.s.sailants, now but 3500 yards distant.

"By Jove, look!" exclaimed Sefton's chum, pointing with a bandaged hand at a large object looming through the smoke close under the _Warrior's_ stern.

It was the gigantic battles.h.i.+p _Warspite_.

Tearing along at well over her contract speed, the 27,500-ton leviathan meant business. Receiving a salvo of heavy sh.e.l.ls that were intended to administer a _coup de grace_ to the crippled _Warrior_, and which for the most part rebounded harmlessly from her armour, the _Warspite_ let rip with her splendid 15-inch guns. At the second salvo a German battle-cruiser simply crumpled up and vanished in a cloud of smoke.

Pitted for the first time in this particular engagement against guns of more than their own calibre, the Germans began to fire most erratically.

Many of the projectiles fell into the sea. Their shooting, hitherto fairly accurate, became wild and spasmodic. They were learning the truth about modern British gunnery, with British hearts of oak behind the powerful weapons.

But, in spite of her size and superiority of armament, the _Warspite_ did not come off unscathed. At a critical moment her steam steering-gear jammed, and round she circled, straight for the enemy's line. Before the damage could be rectified she was. .h.i.t several times, losing, amongst other gear, her wireless aerials. While she was still under fire a hostile submarine let off a couple of torpedoes, both of which fortunately missed their mark.

The action had already pa.s.sed away from the battered _Warrior_. She had played her part. It remained to save herself from foundering, if she could--a truly herculean task.