The Brighton Boys with the Submarine Fleet Part 26

"Every man out of the engine room?" asked Jack.

"I'll find out," answered Blaine.

In the darkness the chief engineer called off the names of his men, getting a response, one by one, from the electricians, oilers and machinists who composed his crew. Not a man was missing, but many of them were suffering from the effects of near-strangulation. Jack ordered the opening of the reserve oxygen tanks, and this gave the sufferers temporary relief.

"Come here, Ted!" called Jack out of the darkness.

Groping his way to where his chum sat propped against the side of the conning tower, Ted bent over the prostrate form of the s.h.i.+p's executive officer.

"I'm growing weak, chum," said Jack feebly. "My limbs are numb and I feel so cold. In case I go under keep the _Monitor_ down here about half an hour and then take your chances on going up. Better to be taken prisoners than die here like a lot of rats in a trap. Do you understand, Ted?"

His teeth chattering with mingled fear and cold---fear for the life of his old Brighton roommate and cold because of the falling temperature due to the cutting off of all electrical energy---Ted answered in the affirmative.

"I guess that's about all we can do, chum," he added.

Ted and Navigating Officer Binns conferred together in the control chamber.

"Better to go up and take our chances on the surface than to remain here under these conditions," counseled Binns.

"I agree with you, Mr. Binns," replied Ted.

And so, after another ten minutes' wait, the two decided to empty the ballast tanks.

In another moment the weight of water filling the ballast tanks was being thrown off under the force of the compressed air and the _Monitor_ lifted off the bed of the harbor. Striking a match, Binns leaned over the depth dial, watching the fluctuating hand that marked foot by foot the progress of the _Monitor_ upward. To lighten the load as much as possible and counterbalance the weight of water in the wrecked conning tower Ted released the torpedoes remaining in the tubes. In a few minutes the indicator hand pointed to zero and the _Monitor's_ officers realized that now their craft was riding awash with her deck fully exposed.

Making his way forward through the gloom, Ted sprang to the hatch and raised the lid. As the morning light streamed in through the opening a m.u.f.fled cheer resounded from the interior of the sub. Vaulting up the ladder, Ted leaped on deck and looked around him. There to starboard, not more than five hundred feet away, loomed a giant cruiser. From her stern tailrail trailed a familiar emblem.

"The Stars and Stripes!" exclaimed the youth as his comrades swarmed up about him from the hold of the prison s.h.i.+p.

A glorious victory had been won by the allied fleets. All about the _Monitor_ were wars.h.i.+ps of the American, English, and French nations.

Reducing the land fortifications after a terrific bombardment, the combined fleet had "rushed" the harbor in the wake of their mine-sweepers, engaged and overwhelmed the larger units of the German fleet there a.s.sembled, and driven some of the smaller craft into the Zeebrugge Ca.n.a.l. Thousands of marines and blue-jackets, formed into landing parties, had been set upon sh.o.r.e and were now taking formal possession of the German stronghold.

"Hurrah for the _Monitor_!" the cry reverberated over the waters as the plucky American submarine was made fast alongside the U.S.S.

_Chicago_ and the story of her night's exploits became heralded about. Willing hands a.s.sisted in reclaiming the wounded and gas victims from the hold of the s.h.i.+p. Jack and his captain, the latter still unconscious, suffering from a severe concussion of the brain, were lifted over the side and carried to the cruiser's sick bay for their wounds to be dressed. It was found upon examination that the ligaments and muscles in Jack's limbs had been severely torn and the flesh lacerated, but that his injuries, while painful, were not serious.

Great jubilation reigned on all the s.h.i.+ps. A band on the forward deck of the Chicago was playing "Stars and Strips Forever," while from a nearby British battles.h.i.+p came the strains of "Rule Britannia."

Their last rendezvous on the Flemish coast wrested from them, the backbone of the German U-boat campaign was broken by the concerted land and sea attack. Several of the allied wars.h.i.+ps had gone down in the spectacular engagement of the night, but a notable victory had been won, and the boys of the navy were in raptures over their successful engagement.

Later in the day Jack was transferred to a hospital s.h.i.+p. All the allied wounded from the sea battle off Zeebrugge were to be sent to England. Captain McClure was grievously wounded. Jack would not be able to resume active service for some time, so his surgeon said, and would probably be invalided home.

In due time Jack arrived in London, where for a time he was a patient in one of the American-endowed hospitals. Within a week he was joined by Ted. The latter had been granted a leave of absence. Together the two young lieutenants took pa.s.sage on a steams.h.i.+p bound for New York, and, braving the perils of the submarine-infested sea, crossed to their own dear old U.S.A.---"the home of the free and the land of the brave."

And now we shall leave them. Suffice to say that after a several months' sojourn at home they returned again to the field of activity to resume their places in the U.S. fleet and continue in service until the end of the war, reaping new honors for themselves, their alma mater and their country.

Of course, before they went back to rejoin "Little Mack," Bill Witt, Mike Mowrey and all their old seafaring mates, they visited Brighton.

It was late afternoon of an October day when the young lieutenants, spic and span in their uniforms, walked briskly up old Pine Street to the campus of Brighton. Many of the students were loafing about the campus awaiting the ringing of the dinner gong when the boys arrived.

Hardly had they climbed the gray stone steps leading to the campus, however, before they were recognized.

"Hurrah for Jack Hammond and Ted Wainwright!" the cry resounded. Word of their arrival spread through the dormitories and soon a mob of chattering schoolboys surrounded the two young officers. As the dinner gong sounded, the heroes were hoisted to the shoulders of their old chums and carried into the dining room. There they met all the "profs" and were compelled to hold an impromptu reception while the dinner waited.

The study period that night at Brighton was set back an hour. Brighton had her heroes at home, and she was doing them full honor. Many of the boys had enlisted in the various branches of service and were now "over there." But those who remained held a joyous reception in honor of the two whose stirring deeds had brought such signal honor to the school that had sent them forth.

A few minutes after ten o'clock, when all the boys had been rung to their rooms and lights were out, two young naval lieutenants stood at the foot of the campus, gazing back at the facade of the familiar old dormitory, its windows framing the heads of many youths who were shouting a farewell to their old friends.

The boys stood in silence contemplating the picture---listening to the chorus of good-bys.

Ted was first to speak.

"I guess it was worth while, chum---our going away to serve our country and coming back to get a reception like this," he faltered.

"And then some!" came Jack's answer. "For Brighton and for Uncle Sam!

That's us!"

THE END