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The Brighton Boys in the Radio Service Part 12

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The entire message was repeated, and then there was silence--the dense and seemingly impenetrable silence that had existed before.

Came the nearer and more powerful crackle of the radio.

"One of our destroyers is replying," Lieutenant Mackinson announced, and one by one he jotted down the words:

"Continue same direction. U. S. destroyer be with you in about two hours."

"Understand you," the return message came back a moment later.

"Submarine still on stern. Has fired two shots, but both missed."

It was a thrilling moment for the boys from Brighton. Out there in the blackness of the night an American fighting craft was separating itself from the rest of the fleet to run full speed to the a.s.sistance of a helpless merchantman, and, if possible, to do battle with the enemy U-boat.

For an hour and a half they sat there, speculating as to the possible outcome.

"I'd give a month's pay to be aboard that destroyer," exclaimed Jerry enviously. "That's the sort of excitement I like. Just imagine coming up to that merchantman just in time to save her from destruction, and then having a regular battle with the submarine, and finally watching her sink, with a sh.e.l.l hole torn in her side!"

"Yes," added Slim, "and imagine being aboard that merchantman, with a sh.e.l.l hole torn in her side before the destroyer arrives!"

"It's pretty cold swimming on a night like this," said Joe. "I've tried it, and I know."

Lieutenant Mackinson, still seated before the wireless instrument, signaled them for quiet again. Another message was coming through s.p.a.ce.

It was in code, but was one that was easy for the lieutenant to translate, for he had heard it before.

"Submarine disappeared. Returning to fleet. Convoying _Memphis_."

"Go on deck, keep your eyes busy off the port bow, and you may see something interesting," the lieutenant told them.

Following the suggestion they went above and had stood there for perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes when suddenly the lookout in the crow's nest sang out: "Destroyer approaching, two points off the port bow."

Almost at the same instant there loomed out of the dense darkness a faint light, apparently miles away. For a moment they would see it, and then it would be gone, only to reappear again, another time to be extinguished. But obviously all the time it was coming nearer.

They noted, too, that a similar process was being enacted by the cruiser in the lead.

"What does it mean?" asked Slim.

"The destroyer is just using another sort of wireless," Joe explained.

"She is blinking her ident.i.ty to the fleet, and the cruiser out there is signaling recognition."

The next time the destroyer signaled she was almost abreast of them, but about two miles away to the north. Her message then could be read by all the boys. The words it spelled out, however, were a complete riddle:

"Love--sky--sand--curtain--run."

It was not for several hours that they learned that the captain of the destroyer had flashed a message that he would convoy the _Memphis_ several miles further westward, and then rejoin the others, and that the fleet commander, in flas.h.i.+ng back "bundle," had given his O. K., with an admonition for speed.

There being no further necessity for the spy watch which had been maintained on the previous night, the boys drew lots to determine which one should do duty until morning in the wireless room, and it fell to Joe.

But the first faint gray streaks were hardly painting the eastern sky when Jerry and Slim, unable to sleep longer, came out upon deck to take for themselves a general survey of the danger zone.

"What's that?" cried Slim suddenly, staring off over the stern of the _Everett_.

"Smoke!" echoed Jerry, excitedly.

"Yes, smoke from the stack of the destroyer," said Joe, who had come up behind them without being heard. "We just got her signal a moment ago."

"How far do you suppose she is away?" asked Slim.

They were speculating upon the distance between the two vessels, when Slim, speechless for the moment, pointed to what seemed to be little more than a dark speck on the water about a mile astern and to the west of them--for at that time their zig-zag course pointed them almost due north.

"Submarine approaching astern!" sang out the man in the crow's nest.

It was as though the startling message had been megaphoned to every man aboard the _Everett_. At the same time the cruiser of the fleet began maneuvering herself between where the periscope showed the submarine to be and the transport itself.

Almost simultaneously the U-boat came to the surface and one of the big guns on the cruiser belched forth a sh.e.l.l that apparently fell a short distance the other side of the submarine. The U-boat itself let loose a shot, and with such accuracy that only the sudden maneuver of the transport at that instant saved it from being hit.

By this time the decks of the _Everett_ were crowded with the khaki-clad soldiers of Uncle Sam whom the Germans were trying to prevent from getting into the trenches by sending them to the bottom of the Atlantic.

The cruiser had headed straight for the U-boat, while the destroyer was coming up behind it with even greater speed.

For some reason that never will be known the commander of the submarine had ignored the destroyer entirely, although it was difficult to imagine that he had not seen it. The general supposition later aboard the _Everett_ was that something had happened to his batteries and he was unable to submerge.

"Hurrah!" shouted hundreds of men on the _Everett_ in unison as the torpedo-boat destroyer opened fire.

And the aim of her gunners was deadly! for just as the U-boat began to submerge, one of the big projectiles from the destroyer hit her squarely amids.h.i.+ps. There was a terrific explosion, the stern of the undersea craft was lifted upward, clear of the water, she stuck her nose into the briny deep, and without another second's delay, dove to the bottom, a wreck.

As the tremendous pressure of the water crushed in her air tanks, great bubbles rose to the surface and broke, causing rippling waves to roll outward in increasingly large circles. Then a flood of oil came to the surface of the sea, and the final evidence of the tragedy was obliterated.

CHAPTER X

FRANCE AT LAST

From that moment the watch on each vessel in the fleet was redoubled, and there was constant speculation, especially among the soldiers, as to whether another submarine would be sighted, and, if so, under what circ.u.mstances.

They had now abandoned the zig-zagging course and were taking a direct route around the north of Ireland and toward the North Channel.

On the following morning two additional destroyers bore down upon them from opposite points off the bow almost simultaneously, and as they came both code-telegraphed their ident.i.ty. With these extra convoys it seemed indeed unlikely that a submarine would get near them, or, if it did, would attempt to do other than make its own safe escape.

Fair Head, at the northeast corner of Ireland, gave them their first sight of land since they had left the sh.o.r.es of America; and for many of them this first glimpse of Erin's Isle brought with it the sentimental thrill of seeing the country where their parents had been born and spent their youth--for there was many a lad of Irish ancestry aboard the _Everett_.

Rounding Fair Head without mishap or contact with a submarine, the danger from that source was practically over. The convoy was reduced to a cruiser and destroyer, and thus they laid a southeasterly course to what your old-time sailor would have described as "a piping breeze."

They flanked the Isle of Man off its westward coast, and thence sped directly across the Irish Sea and into the harbor of Liverpool.

Their arrival was unannounced. It was only one of many, and a thing to which the people of that and other cities of England and France had become quite accustomed. Nevertheless they welcomed the hosts of Uncle Sam in the warmest manner, and in every possible way showed the deep sense of appreciation and feeling of increased safety with which they viewed the arrival of more and more thousands of American troops in their land, on their way to the trenches of France to help conquer the common enemy.

But there was not much time to be spent in Liverpool. Indeed, they had scarcely become accustomed to feeling their feet on solid ground again before the order to march was given, and they left the river front to go to the railroad station.

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The Brighton Boys in the Radio Service Part 12 summary

You're reading The Brighton Boys in the Radio Service. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): James R. Driscoll. Already has 658 views.

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