With Beatty off Jutland Part 12

Sefton turned his head and saw that the speaker was Engineer-Lieutenant Boxspanner, and for once at least Dr. Stirling agreed with him.

The rescue of the sea-plane's crew threw additional work upon the already hara.s.sed surgeon, for the observer was showing signs of collapse, while upon examination it was found that the pilot had been hit in the forehead by a shrapnel bullet.

Pulling himself together, the observer managed to impart important information before he fainted through sheer exhaustion. The sea-plane had sighted the main German fleet fifty miles to the nor'-nor'-east.

The intelligence was highly desirable. It settled without doubt the all-important question as to the enemy's whereabouts, and definitely proved that Jellicoe's ships were between the Huns and their North Sea bases. If steps could be taken to intercept the German vessels' retreat through the Cattegat, it seemed as if they were doomed to annihilation at the hands of the British.

Quickly the news was wirelessed from the _Calder_ to the _Iron Duke_.

Unless anything unforeseen occurred, it seemed pretty certain that Admiral Jellicoe would be able to turn the initial advantage into an overwhelming defeat for the enemy.

The two airmen had rendered good service against considerable odds.

They had ascended three hours previously, and, flying low in order to be able to see through the haze, had eventually sighted the badly-damaged German squadron under Rear-Admiral von Scheer, which had contrived to slip away while Admiral Hipper was endeavouring to delay the advance of Jellicoe's main fleet.

Owing to the low degree of visibility, the seaplane came within range of the hostile quick-firers almost before her pilot was aware of the unpleasant fact. Greeted by a hot fire, almost the first sh.e.l.l of which carried away the wireless, the sea-plane ascended, trusting to be hidden in the clouds until she could volplane from another direction and renew her reconnaissance of the hostile fleet.

Unfortunately, it was a case of "out of the saucepan into the fire", for on emerging above the low-lying bank of clouds the sea-plane found herself almost underneath a Zeppelin, several of which accompanied the German fleet, although their sphere of usefulness was considerably curtailed by reason of the climatic conditions. Although the haze prevented the British from inflicting greater damage upon their opponents, it is fairly safe to a.s.sert that had the sky been clear the Zeppelins would have given the German fleet timely warning, and an action would never have ensued.

Nothing daunted, the British sea-plane opened fire upon her gigantic antagonist; but the odds were against her. The Zeppelins, floating motionless in the air and in perfect silence, had long before heard the noisy approach of the mechanical hornet, and her appearance was greeted with a concentrated fire of half a dozen machine guns, accompanied by a few choice t.i.tbits in the shape of bombs.

The latter, without exception, missed their objective, but the hail of bullets ripped the sea-plane through and through and dangerously wounded her observer. In spite of the riddled state of the planes the pilot kept his craft well under control, but was forced to descend, not before the Zeppelin was showing signs of having been much damaged by the sea-plane's automatic gun. The last the airmen saw of her was that she was making off at full speed in an easterly direction, her stern portion dipping ominously in spite of the quant.i.ty of ballast hurled overboard by her crew.

The British air-craft's long volplane terminated on the surface of the sea miles from the place where she had "spotted" the hostile ships.

Before long the pilot made the disconcerting discovery that one of the floats was leaking. Having bandaged his unfortunate comrade's wound, he slipped over the side of the fuselage on to the damaged float. Failing to locate and stop the leak, he took up his position on the sound float, in the hope that his weight would preserve the sea-plane's stability.

In this position he remained for two hours, until, numbed by the cold, he was on the point of abandoning hope when the _Calder_ hove in sight.

The sun had set when the _Calder_ rejoined the flotilla. The enemy was entirely out of sight, but there was every possibility of the German torpedo-boats making a night attack upon the long line of battleships.

Every precaution was taken against such a step. The battleships and battle-cruisers were encircled by a line of light cruisers, while beyond them, and mostly between the British fleet and the reported position of the German ships, was a numerous gathering of destroyers for the dual part of protecting the larger ships and also, when opportunity occurred, of making a dash against the Huns.

"Mark my words, Sefton," said Lieutenant-Commander Crosthwaite when the _Calder_, having transferred the two airmen, had taken up her allotted station, "to-night's the night. We'll have the time of our lives."

CHAPTER XII--The Night Attack

Just before midnight two columns of destroyers in line ahead slipped away in the darkness, the course being N. 42 E. Without showing so much as a glimmer of light, with their funnels screened with "spark arresters" to prevent the exit of glowing embers from the furnaces, the long, lean craft headed in the supposed direction of the enemy fleet.

From the elevated fore-bridge Sefton could scarce distinguish betwixt the _Calder's_ bows and the dark, heavy waves. The only guide to enable the destroyer to keep station was the phosph.o.r.escent swirl at the stern of the vessel next ahead, as her triple propellers churned the water.

On deck the men were at the battle-stations, standing motionless and silent. Their faces had been blackened with burnt cork to render them as inconspicuous as possible should the beam of a hostile search-light swing itself athwart their vessel.

Although the high-raised fo'c'sle of the _Calder_ was comparatively dry, showers of spray cast aside by the flaring bows were caught by the strong wind and dashed over the bridge until it was impossible to make use of night-gla.s.ses owing to the beads of moisture on the lenses.

Beyond a curt, clearly-enunciated order to the quartermaster, neither of the two officers spoke a word, Crosthwaite gripping the guard-rail and peering ahead, while Sefton kept his attention upon the tell-tale greyish smudge that marked the position of the destroyer ahead.

The result of years of training at night manoeuvres was bearing fruit.

Iron-nerved men were at the helm of each boat--men who had long since got beyond the "jumpy" stage, when strange freaks of imagination conjure up visions of objects that do not exist. A false alarm and a rapid fire from the 4-inch guns would be fatal to the enterprise, the success of which depended entirely upon getting well within torpedo-range without being spotted by the alert foe.

A feeble light, screened in all directions save that towards the vessels astern, blinked rapidly from the leading destroyer. It was the signal for the flotilla to form in line abeam.

"Starboard ten!" ordered Crosthwaite.

"Starboard ten, sir!" was the helmsman's reply, while the lieutenant-commander telegraphed for speed to be increased to 22 knots in order to bring the _Calder_ even with the leader.

Had it been daylight the manoeuvre would have been executed with the precision of a machine; being night it was impossible to follow the movements of the whole flotilla, but carried out the orders were, each destroyer keeping station with the one nearest on her starboard beam.

Suddenly the darkness was penetrated by the dazzling beam of a search-light from a ship at a distance of two miles on the _Calder's_ port bow. For a moment it hung irresolute, and then swung round in the direction of the on-coming destroyers.

A huge black ma.s.s intercepted the rays, its outlines silhouetted against the silvery glare. The ma.s.s was a German light cruiser, evidently detached for scouting purposes and returning with screened lights towards the main fleet.

Instantly a furious cannonade was opened upon the luckless light cruiser from half a dozen of her consorts. For a couple of minutes the firing continued, until, with a tremendous flash and a deafening roar, her magazine exploded.

"The Huns will never admit their mistake," thought Sefton. "They'll claim to have destroyed another of our ships."

Then the sub's whole attention was chained to the work now on hand.

Barely had the last of the flying debris from the German light cruiser struck the water when at full speed the British destroyer flotilla hurled itself upon the foe.

Played upon by fifty search-lights, the target for a hundred guns, large and small, the destroyers held on with one set purpose, their torpedo-men discharging the 21-inch missiles with rapidity and cool determination.

Above the crash of the ordnance could be heard the deeper boom of the torpedoes as they exploded against the ships' bottoms at a depth of fifteen or twenty feet below the surface.

Slick in between two large battleships the _Calder_ rushed, letting loose a pair of torpedoes at each of the hostile ships. One torpedo was observed to explode close to the stern of the battleship to starboard, the stricken vessel leaving the line with a decided list and enveloped in smoke.

"Light cruisers, by Jove!" muttered Sefton, as the _Calder_, on nearing the end of the enemy line, was confronted by three vessels of the "Wiesbaden" cla.s.s.

A heavy fire greeted the approaching destroyer, but almost without exception the sh.e.l.ls went wide of their mark. Then, gathering speed, one of the German light cruisers ported helm and attempted to ram her lightly-built opponent.

Making no effort to avoid the danger, the _Calder_ held on, until Sefton, turning to see what his commanding officer was doing, found Crosthwaite sitting on the bridge with his back against the pedestal of the semaph.o.r.e, and his hands clasping his right leg just above the knee, and blood oozing from a gash in his forehead.

The sub was the only officer on the bridge capable of taking command.

"Hard-a-starboard!" he shouted, in order to make himself heard above the din.

Ever quick on her helm, the destroyer spun round almost on her heel.

The German's stem missed her by a couple of feet, while, hurled bodily sideways by the ma.s.s of water from the former's bow wave, the _Calder_ slid past with her side-plating almost touching that of her enemy.

Simultaneously the Hun let fly a broadside. The destroyer reeled under the shock, but once again she was in luck, for none of the hostile guns could be sufficiently depressed to score a vital hit. The next instant the cruiser was lost to sight in the darkness, saluted by a number of rounds from the destroyer's after 4-inch gun.

Temporarily stunned by the detonations of the German cruiser's guns--for he was within twenty feet of the muzzles of several of the weapons--Sefton leaned against the conning-tower. The metal was unpleasantly hot, for a light sh.e.l.l had burst against it hardly a minute before. Beyond denting the steel armour and blowing the signal-locker over the side, the missile had done no further damage.

Coughing the acrid fumes from his lungs and clearing his eyes of involuntary tears, for the air was thick with irritating dust, Sefton began to take a renewed interest in his surroundings.

The _Calder_ had penetrated the hostile line without sustaining serious damage. She had now to return.

The sub grasped one of the voice-tubes. The flexible pipe came away in his hand, the whole system having been cut through with a fragment of sh.e.l.l.