The Last Raider, page 15
His pleasure faded as Sub-Lieutenant Wildermuth staggered clumsily from the wheelhouse. The bridge was swaying through such a wide arc that no movement could be made without holding on for support at each step.
‘Well? What d’you want?’ Kohler’s voice was harsh. He wanted to get back to his thoughts.
‘Masthead reports a ship, fine on the starboard bow!’ Wildermuth watched Kohler’s cold eyes worriedly.
‘Well why didn’t you say so before? Have you called the Captain?’ He pushed through the wheelhouse to the other wing with Wildermuth padding behind him.
‘I thought that the Captain would say it’s too late to attack another ship now. The light will be gone completely in half an hour.’
‘Leave thinking to me!’ He picked up a pair of heavy glasses and scanned the horizon eagerly. Eventually he found a faint blob of smoke, like a stain in the grey sky. ‘What does the masthead say?’
‘He can’t quite make it out. The light isn’t very good.’
‘Oh God, do I have to do everything?’ He gestured angrily with his hand. ‘Call the Captain, and ring down for full speed!’ Stupid fool, he thought, wearing an officer’s uniform, but more fit to clean out the heads.
Von Steiger was suddenly at his side. His eyes looking red-rimmed, and he waited until Kohler had made his report before going to the telephone.
‘Captain speaking. What do you make of the ship?’ A long pause while they all looked at von Steiger’s face.
He felt their eyes on him but ignored them. He coaxed the distant voice of the lookout, he did not shout, nor did he make suggestions, he merely drew a picture of the other ship in his mind. He could feel the telephone hurting his fingers before he realised that he was gripping it too hard.
This was really fate coming back to mock him, he thought. He remembered his conversations with Niklas and inwardly cursed himself. If we go faster we use more coal; if we reduce speed we miss a target like this. He listened to the painfully slow voice of the man at the masthead. There could surely not be any doubt left. The ship he could see was almost definitely a collier. He felt like smashing the instrument into Wildermuth’s blank face, or screaming at the others to get on with their watch. He peered through the glass windows at the darkening sky. Why bother to say anything? Just alter course to the south as you planned. This one at least has beaten you. But suppose you do not find coal there either? Suppose a cruiser starts to chase you when your bunkers are only filled with dust? He bit his lip until it hurt. They were all waiting for his decision.
Heuss stopped in the wheelhouse door on the way to the wireless room for his evening inspection. He, too, sensed something dramatic was happening and watched with the others.
Von Steiger waited. Outside his racing thoughts he heard Kohler say, ‘I rang for full speed, sir!’ In his mind’s eye he saw the brass telegraph in the engine-room gleaming in the red glow from the gaping furnace doors, as Niklas’s men shovelled the black diamonds into the ever-hungry fires.
He looked around the wheelhouse. They all avoided his eye, and yet he knew they were watching him like hawks. In a voice he hardly recognised he said: ‘We will go after her. She is a collier. I cannot afford to turn my back on her now.’ The pain in his chest seemed to ease a little, and he felt better. He smiled bitterly as they all moved their feet and readjusted themselves.
‘Bring her round to starboard half a point, and sound Action Stations! Pass the word for the First Lieutenant, and tell the engine-room that this is an emergency.’ He glared at them all, his eyes flashing with sudden fire. ‘I want every ounce of steam they can manage!’
The ship, which had begun to settle down for the evening, came to life around and beneath them. Von Steiger rested his back against the open wheelhouse door and looked up at the ranks of darkening clouds. They moved overhead like a trapdoor which, when it met the thin hard line of the horizon, would blot out everything.
Dehler reached his side, his jacket undone, his collarless shirt open to reveal the reddish hair on his heavy chest. ‘A collier, eh?’ He stared at the Captain with cautious eyes. ‘We will never catch her now. What’s her bearing and course, anyway?’
Von Steiger flicked his pad across the chart-table. ‘A converging course. We might get within gunshot before long if we keep this speed up.’
Dehler blinked around him as if aware for the first time of the terrible vibration which made every rivet and plate clatter and groan with noisy protest.
Von Steiger saw the sceptical look in his subordinate’s face and despised him. He forced himself to remain calm, and walked to his tall wooden chair. In an even tone he continued, ‘I am going to catch that collier if I have to blow up every boiler and burst every rivet in this ship!’
Dehler rubbed his chin with a rasping sound. ‘I’ll give the daylight twenty minutes,’ he said doggedly. ‘She’ll get clean away.’
‘The collier is probably making about eight knots. We are already doing over sixteen. In a quarter of an hour we shall therefore have drawn nearly seven miles closer. The bridge lookouts were reporting the target in the background of other noises, and he smiled at Dehler’s disbelieving face. ‘We will do the whole drill this time, Dehler. I want a full boarding party ready to get across to her, fully armed and ready for anything. Heuss, you will be in charge of the boarding party, and will take Wildermuth as your second in command.’ He picked up the speaking tube by his side and spoke to Lieutenant Ebert. ‘This has got to be very good shooting, Ebert. I don’t want her damaged at all if I can help it. I shall signal her to heave to, and wait for boarders. I shall tell her master that if he resists or tries to scuttle we will blow them all to hell!’ He peered suddenly through the window. ‘I will, too, if necessary. Put your best man on the machine guns, they may be more use when we close in.’
He turned calmly to the others. ‘To your stations. Heuss, get the boats swung out now, and good luck to you.’
Damrosch wiped his eyes and lifted his glasses again. There she is, he breathed. What a queer-looking ship; no wonder the lookout was confused. Squat, low in the water, the ship seemed to crawl up over the horizon line like a giant beetle. She had a small, single funnel right aft, and her decks were lined with short, heavy-looking derricks.
Heuss passed him at the run, his face troubled. As he clattered below he said: ‘See that she’s gone below, Max. The girl, I mean!’ Then he was gone. Damrosch strained his eyes to see the other ship, but considered Heuss’s request. Strange, he’s just about to be dropped into the sea with a boarding party and all he thinks about is his prisoners. He grinned in spite of the tension. Good old Emil, he can always be relied upon for an unexpected comment.
Von Steiger listened to the bark of orders and the clatter of running feet. This will drive away their cobwebs. They won’t have time to groan about their misfortunes for a while. He realised that Dehler was still at his side.
‘I think I should take charge of the boarders, Captain!’ His voice sounded only half under control. ‘I am the senior officer. It is my right.’ He swallowed hard and lifted his chin in defiance.
Von Steiger barely gave him a glance. ‘If I am killed you are in command here. You are no use to me on board that collier if anything happens here. If we were to be caught by a British warship at the moment when we had got our boats in the water I should have to steam away and leave them to fend for themselves. Would you rather be left in that predicament?’ He watched the torn emotions in Dehler’s face.
‘No, sir. I did not know you would take such a course of action!’
He smiled without humour. To himself he thought: Of course you did not think that. That is why you will never command anything. Aloud he said: ‘Try not to question my orders, Dehler. Until you can take an order properly you will never be in a position to give one!’
He waited until the angry, red-faced officer had left the bridge, and then he stood up and joined Damrosch in the open. He was aware of the returning tension within him and began to have doubts. A gesture was well enough, but it had to work. He would prove nothing by making a hopeless mistake now. It was when he had seen the resentment in Dehler’s eyes that he had realised just how important this operation was, not only for the sake of the coal, but for his own sake as well. He was committed now, and nothing could save him but success.
In spite of the rapidly failing light the other vessel’s outline was now more apparent, and from the bridge von Steiger could see her ugly derricks and lumpy superstructure without the aid of his glasses. He marvelled at the other ship’s indifference to the raider’s rapid approach. Vulkan was hurling herself through the water at nearly seventeen knots, a speed she had not bettered since her very first speed-trials as a banana-boat. The bridge supports were humming with the strain, and the wing upon which he was standing seemed to be jerking up and down like a diving board.
A messenger stood by in the wireless-room door, ready to report the slightest sign of a signal from the other ship. The merest hint of Morse would bring a shattering salvo from the waiting guns. The collier, however, plodded on indifferently. She was, after all, clear of the U-boat hunting ground, and apparently took every other vessel for granted.
Von Steiger dared not leave it any longer. It would take some time to slow down and drop the boats in the water, and by then it could be difficult.
‘Signal her now. Damrosch, go and press the alarm signal!’
He heard the steel shutters fall back from the guns, even as the light began to blink by his elbow.
‘Stop immediately. German cruiser here. Do not use wireless or you will be sunk.’
In the dying light the sudden flash of a forward gun seemed all the more terrible, and although they could no longer spot the fall of the warning shell, the whining scream as it passed over the other ship was apparently enough.
An uneven light replied, ‘I have stopped.’ And then again, ‘I have stopped.’
Von Steiger lowered his glasses. Speed was essential now. ‘Stop engine. Lower the boats and slip them! Train the searchlight on her, but do not switch on unless I give the order.’ He heard the metallic chink of ammunition belts as the Maxim machine guns were swung to bear on the heavily laden collier.
Hoarse orders took up the signal from the bridge, and Dehler could be heard getting the boats away. ‘Get a grip on those falls! Lower away!’ Then, as the boats swung dizzily above the creaming water: ‘Avast lowering! Slip!’
From his position on the wing, von Steiger saw the pale shape of the rakish whaleboat detach itself from the parent ship. There was a small delay, and then he saw the oars fan out from its sides and it began to move with maddening slowness towards the other ship. Around the Vulkan’s stern the second whaleboat appeared, pulling strongly, its confined hull apparently crammed with dark figures.
He could hear Damrosch gasping with excitement, and smiled in spite of his own anxiety. He forced himself to take out a fresh cheroot and light it, and was surprised to find that he could still hold his hand steady.
Dehler came panting up the bridge ladder. ‘Boats away, Captain!’
His features were indistinct, and von Steiger realised that in mere minutes they would be in complete darkness.
‘Very well. Dehler, take over the watch, and keep her upwind of that fellow. Watch her carefully, I don’t want to drift down on to that great floating coal-mine, it would be like hitting a reef!’
Dehler hurried into the wheelhouse, and could be heard speaking to the Coxswain.
Damrosch banged his hand on the rail. ‘The first boat is alongside, sir!’
They could just see its pale shape bobbing against the low black side of the collier, frail and ineffectual. The other boat tried to hook on also, but was carried clear by the surging water. The oars came out once more, and slowly and painfully the boat edged its way back towards the ponderous and seemingly immovable ship.
Von Steiger stared down at the dim black shadow and tried to estimate its rate of drift. She was so heavy in the water it was hard to tell, but one thing was certain: she was loaded to her deck-beams with coal. Too late to do anything now. Must keep together tonight and start loading at first light.
* * * * *
As his whaleboat was being lowered towards the plunging water, Heuss squeezed himself against the armed seamen who were jammed tightly in the tiny cockpit, and tried not to look up at the raider’s gleaming plates as he plummeted downwards. The oarsmen sat hunched on their thwarts, already feeling for their oars, and making sure that they could slam them into the rowlocks without wasting a second. An overloaded boat, dropped carelessly into choppy water, could easily capsize unless way could be got on immediately.
Dehler’s face peered down at them. The falls had stopped squeaking, and the boat hung suspended and helpless above the wave-tops. Heuss eyed the water grimly. The waves looked a damn’ sight bigger than they did from the Vulkan’s high deck. He did not have time to consider his possible fate. ‘Slip!’ came the order, and the boat fell on to the remains of the raider’s bow-wave with a sickening splash. Heuss felt the tiller bite into his hand, and he thrust his weight against it to bring the boat’s head up into the cross sea. The small boat rose and fell with breathtaking swoops, and he had to grit his teeth together in order to control his sudden nausea.
‘Out oars! Stand by!’ The oarsmen leaned towards him, their eyes fixed on his face. ‘Give way together!’ Five pairs of arms heaved back, and the long blades sliced like scythes into the white-capped water which rose high above the gunwale.
All at once the momentary confusion had gone, and the tangled mass of arms, legs and weapons was moving in unison, and when Heuss looked over his shoulder he saw that the Vulkan had already dropped into an indistinct blur. He could see the other boat moving up rapidly astern of him, the oars rising and falling like wings, the high prow well clear of the water, so that it appeared to be planing across the wave-tops.
Wildermuth’s boat was doing well, and if his own men did not watch out he would be alongside before them. He bared his teeth in an excited grin. ‘Pull hard, lads! They’re gaining on us! Put your blasted backs into it!’
The black bulk of the other ship grew out of the water ahead of him, until it seemed as if they would tear straight into her hull. Heuss tensed his body, straining his eyes into the gloom. Von Steiger had been right about sighting a collier. It was luck, of course, but uncanny all the same.
He poised himself ready, his hand upon the jerking tiller-bar. Nearer, nearer—God I must not misjudge it now! He could see the dripping black side and the tangled mass of rigging and spars overhead. Now! He slammed the tiller hard over. ‘Way enough! Boat your oars!’
The seamen heaved the oars into the boat, so that, as it curtsied round in response to the rudder, their blades seemed to touch the collier’s side. The waiting bowman flung his grapnel high over the ship’s rail, and seconds later the boat swung obediently alongside.
Out of the corner of his eye Heuss saw Wildermuth’s boat scrape against the hull and then stagger away again. There were muffled curses and the clatter of oars as the men fought to get back to grips with their quarry.
Heuss took a deep breath. ‘Right, lads, follow me!’ Gathering his strength he sprang for the rail. His clutching fingers scrabbled frantically, and then found a grip on the rust-covered bulwark, and then he was up and over. Immediately the collier’s deck was about him, and the noise of the sea and the confusion of the tossing boat was lost behind him.
His men scrambled breathlessly over the rail, leaving only a skeleton crew to keep the boat from smashing itself against the iron hull, and stood peering around on what Heuss now realised was a deserted deck. He had expected the ship’s crew to be waiting for him, or at least somebody to question his right of entry. There was no one.
He forced his mind to work. There was no von Steiger watching at his shoulder now, but he could well imagine the anxious eyes peering across the dark gap between the two wallowing vessels.
‘Weiss, take four men and find your way below. You know what to do. Make sure they don’t try to scuttle her!’ He waited until they had padded away, and then he turned to the remaining four men. ‘Can’t wait for Wildermuth’s party. There’s something wrong here, and we must find out what it is. Follow me to the bridge.’
The collier’s bridge was a small isolated island in the forward section of the hull, separated from the main superstructure by the long holds and loading derricks. As he ran towards it he felt a sense of unreality and alarm rising within him like a warning. He groped for the steel ladder and began to climb. The sound of the shot was so close that it sounded like a thunderclap, and he threw his body against the steel rungs as a bullet ricocheted off the plating and whined away over the sea.
‘What the devil!’ He groped for his pistol, his fingers fumbling with the holster-strap. They must be mad! There was another shot, and a man behind him gave a shriek and plummeted backwards on top of the others. His body bounced across the top of a winch and slithered across the deck. The man gave one more scream and then lay still.
For a moment Heuss stood stock-still, his first reaction one of complete terror. Then an unreasoning anger sent the blood rushing to his head and he bounded up the rest of the ladder. He saw a pale face through the glass window of the bridge door and he fired straight at it. The glass shivered to fragments, and the face vanished. From the darkness of the wheelhouse he saw the orange flash of another gun, and a heavy bullet thudded into the woodwork by his head. More shots came from aft, and he heard Wildermuth yelling for his men to take cover.
The whole bridge was suddenly laid bare in the unearthly blue glare of the Vulkan’s big searchlight. Over his shoulder Heuss called to his hidden men. ‘Use the lamp! Signal to the ship that we are being fired on!’ He ducked behind the wooden bridge door as another shot whined past his face. He heard Wildermuth calling his name, and then heard him shout: ‘We have rounded up most of the crew! What shall we do?’ He broke off as a complete volley of rifle-fire sprayed down from the other side of the bridge and struck sparks from the metal decks below.
