CHAPTER VI
To the Rescue
"Another picnic!" exclaimed Sefton joyfully, as the bugles sounded for"Action Stations". "Look--there's the French squadron piling it on.They are every bit as keen as we are to have a sniff in."
If anything, the opening phases of the bombardment were tamer than onthe occasion of the last operations. The combined fleets delivered atremendous fire at gradually decreasing ranges, while the Turksgradually diminished the rapidity of their reply. It was for the mostpart a gigantic waste of Krupp's ammunition, for very few of theBritish and French ships were hit.
Against the fortifications at the entrance to the Straits thebattleships directed their fire, and at half-past one all the forts hadceased to reply to the salvoes of the Allied ships.
Meanwhile the _Hammerer_ and her consorts had penetrated a considerabledistance up the Dardanelles. Here they gave and received hard knocks,for the range averaged only two thousand yards. Several gaping holesappeared in the unarmoured portions of the _Hammerer's_ hull, herfunnels were torn through and through, her after-bridge had been sweptaway, and almost every boat she carried was splintered.
Yet her crew, well protected by the armoured barbettes and casemates,and the broad nine-inch belt extending two-thirds of her length,suffered little loss; and when at half-past two the _Vengeance_,_Irresistible_, _Albion_, _Swiftsure_, _Ocean_, and _Majestic_ steamedup to assist in the bombardment, the forts quickly ceased firing.
During the lull in the firing Dick Crosthwaite had to go on deck tosuperintend the clearing away of some of the remains of theafter-bridge, which interfered with the training of the starboard6-inch gun.
As he did so he saw the _Irresistible_ listing heavily. Whethermortally injured by gun-fire, torpedo, or mine, he knew not at thetime, but it was certain that she was done for. An attempt was beingmade to take her in tow, but already the stanch old craft was heelingtoo much.
Seeing the plight of the battleship, the Turks again opened fire,sending a hail of projectiles at the stricken ship. Her consortsattempted to intervene and screen her from the harassing storm ofshell, for her devoted crew, working hard in a vain effort to check theinrush of water by means of collision mats, were fully exposed to thefire of the Turkish guns.
Reluctantly the order was given to abandon ship, and in response tosignals for assistance British destroyers dashed up, and, manoeuvringwith the utmost skill and coolness under the galling fire, actually ranalongside the fast-sinking vessel.
Most of the _Irresistible's_ crew succeeded in leaping upon the decksof the destroyers; a few had to take to the water, and were promptlyhauled out by ready helpers. The rescuers were only just in time, for,amid a cloud of smoke and steam, the ship sank in deep water.
The catastrophe was not the only one, for within a very few minutesafter the sinking of the _Irresistible_, the _Ocean_, a slightly largerbattleship, having struck a mine, sank, with very little loss of life.
It was a black day for the Allies, for the French had not come offwithout serious losses. The _Bouvet_, fouling a mine, the detonationof which caused her principal magazine to explode, sank with appallingsuddenness, taking with her practically the whole of the crew. The_Gaulois_, badly mauled by gun-fire, was obliged to haul out of line,and it was rumoured that she had to be beached on the island of Imbros.
A new and hitherto unexpected danger had threatened the British andFrench battleships--a danger against which ordinary mine-sweeping wasimpracticable.
Owing to the continual current down the Dardanelles, it occurred to theminds of the German officers serving with the Turkish forces to setadrift numbers of floating mines. These formidable engines ofdestruction were launched from the southern outlet of the Sea ofMarmora, while to make the chances of their fouling a ship doublycertain they were released in pairs, each couple being connected byfifty or a hundred feet of wire. The bight of the wire getting caughtacross the bows of a ship would result in the mines swinging inwardsand exploding upon contact with the vessel's sides.
Wisely the British Admiral ordered a retirement, until steps could betaken to cope with this latest scheme of defence on the part of theenemy, and as night fell the fleet steamed towards its anchorage.
The weather was now beginning to change back to a spell of hard windsand rain, which in itself would cause a temporary suspension ofoperations, and the officers and men of the fleet had to face thedismal prospect of "standing by" instead of returning to the attackwith renewed zest and animated by a desire to revenge their losses.
Dick was just about to sit down to a hasty meal--it was his firstopportunity of doing so since the _Hammerer_ went into action thatmorning--when the "Officers' Call" was sounded.
"Now what's in the wind?" he mentally enquired as he dashed on deck.
The Sub was not kept long in doubt. A message had been received fromthe flagship stating that one of the mine-sweepers, the _St. Rollo_,had gone ashore at Yenikeui on the Asiatic shore, and about six milesSW. by S. of Kum Kale. The _Hammerer_ and the _Tremendous_ were askedfor volunteers to attempt the rescue of the crew. It was expresslystated that, owing to the shoaling nature of the coast at the point,gigs or whalers must be employed, but a destroyer would be cruising inthe vicinity to pick up the rescue parties on their return.
It was taken for granted that the business was a dangerous one,otherwise the boats would be ordered to proceed to the spot. The merefact that volunteers were asked was in itself significant. Not onlywas there grave risk of being fired upon by the Turkish troops, whodoubtless would muster in force at the spot where the mine-sweepergrounded, but it was now a pitch-dark night with a falling glass and arising sea.
"What boats have we fit for service, Mr. Box?" the Captain, addressingthe carpenter.
The warrant-officer had the information at his fingers' ends, for, assoon as the _Hammerer_ had drawn out of range, one of the first of manytasks of the carpenter's crew was to set to work and patch up the boatsthat were most capable of being made seaworthy again.
"Now, gentlemen," continued the owner. "You know what is required andthe condition of the boats. Who will volunteer?"
Almost all the executive officers and every one of the midshipmensignified their willingness to answer the call for aid.
"Thank you, gentlemen," exclaimed the skipper, with ill-disguisedappreciation of the result of his question. "Your answer is exactlywhat I expected. Mr. Bourne will take charge of the gig, and Mr.Crosthwaite will take the whaler. They will each have a midshipmanwith them."
The Captain had not made his choice without due consideration. Bourne,he knew, was a capable officer in a boat, while Dick Crosthwaite hadhad a great amount of experience in that sort of work, both atDartmouth and during his commission on the _Seasprite_. In fact theSub had been specially reported to the Admiralty for the smart way inwhich on several occasions he had taken away a boat to board merchantships during the light cruiser's patrol work in the North Sea. Inthese days of steam propulsion, small-boat work in the British Navyrarely gets the attention it deserves, and comparatively few officerscan handle a sailing boat with any great degree of smartness. Dick'squalification, therefore, was the exception rather than the rule.
Saluting, the Sub hastened to make his preparations. His first act wasto choose a midshipman. He would have selected Sefton but for the factthat that young gentleman had received a slight wound in the hand froma flying fragment of shell. Maynebrace he dismissed from his mind; theyoungster was too impetuous, and apt to lose his head in a tightcorner. Eventually the Sub decided to ask Farnworth to accompany him,and the lad literally jumped at the chance.
Dick had no difficulty in getting together a crew, for the menbelonging to Farnworth's boat simply clamoured to be taken. This was adecided advantage, since all the party were used to the whaler.
While Farnworth was busily engaged in seeing that the boat was ready,comparing the articles placed in her with the list in his "Watch Bill",the Sub made his way to the chart-room
and obtained a copy of thelargest-scale chart of Yenikeui and neighbouring coast. Rolling up theplan he placed it in a cylindrical watertight case and hurried to thequarter-deck, where the whaler's crew had already fallen in, and allhands for lowering were waiting at the falls.
The whaler seemed a frail craft to take away on a dark and boisterousnight. Being only of moderate beam in proportion to her length oftwenty-seven feet, she was fairly swift under oars or sail in calm ormoderate weather, but was a "wet boat" whenever she had to encounterany crested waves.
Nevertheless her pointed stern enabled her to manoeuvre in brokenwater, such as had to be expected in Yenikeui Bay, where it would bealmost a matter of impossibility to approach the stranded trawler in asteam cutter or pinnace.
"All correct, sir," reported Midshipman Farnworth.
The Sub thoroughly examined the boat, not that he doubted hissubordinate. It was a case of "two heads being better than one", forin the excitement it was quite possible for necessary articles to beoverlooked.
"Boathooks, balers, spare oars, anchor and cable, signal flags androckets, flashing lamp, compass, lead-line--where's the lead-line?"
That important article was missing. It was speedily forthcoming, and theSub proceeded to take stock of the rest of the inventory.
"You have the telescope and signal-book, Mr. Farnworth?"
"Here, sir," reported the midshipman.
The men's rifles were already in the boat, secured by light lashings,termed "beckets", under the thwarts. Spare ammunition in a box wasstowed under the stern-sheets.
Satisfied that they were all in order, Dick awaited Lieutenant Bourne'sappearance. Already that officer's boat, the gig, was ready forlowering.
"Keep half a dozen boats' lengths astern of me, Mr. Crosthwaite,"ordered the Lieutenant, as senior officer of the expedition. "When thetrawler is sighted we'll confer as to the best means of approachingher. Judging by the direction of the wind, we ought to find a certainamount of shelter under Bender Dagh Point--you know where that is?"
Dick assented. It was a precipitous crag fringed by a partly submergedreef that extended obliquely with the shore for nearly half a mile.
"Very good; carry on!" continued Bourne.
The boats' crews climbed into their respective crafts. Amid the goodwishes of the rest of the officers Bourne took his place in thestern-sheets of the gig, and Crosthwaite in the whaler.
"Lower away!"
Smartly the falls of the whaler were paid out, and as the boat becamewaterborne the bowman and the coxswain promptly released thedisengaging gear.
"Give way!"
As one the blades of the supple ash oars dipped as the rowers bent totheir task, and the boat shot forward on her dangerous errand.
It was a long pull of five miles dead to leeward, and in allprobability a doubly hard row back in the teeth of the wind and sea.To avoid undue chances of discovery by the Turkish batteries the boatswere unable to be towed, but it was understood that on the returnjourney they might be "given a pluck" by a destroyer as soon as therescuer party drew out of effective rifle range from the shore.
Hardly a word was exchanged between the Sub and the junior officer fromthe time of leaving the ship to the arrival of the four boats at therendezvous. Farnworth had all his work cut out to keep in touch withthe gig, for the night was thick with rain. That in a sense wasfortunate, for it beat down the crested waves considerably. Themidshipman had not to steer a compass course, since Bourne wasresponsible for the navigation, and as long as the two boats of the_Hammerer_ kept together all was well.
Dick, muffled in oilskins and sou'wester, kept a bright look-out forthe flashing signals from the ship, since it might be possible thatorders for recall might be made, in the event of the crew of thestranded vessel getting away in their own boats.
Suddenly, and before the Sub realized that the boats were so near land,the precipitous outlines of Bender Dagh Point loomed through thedarkness, a few points on the whaler's starboard bow. Not a lightappeared on shore, for which the officers were devoutly thankful; butabove the moaning of the wind and the hiss of the rain could be heardthe ominous sound of surf lashing the rocky beach.
A cast of the lead-line gave eight fathoms. At present there was nofear of getting into shoal water, for the reef rose from a submergedbank having only half that depth. As long as the soundings gave notless than five fathoms the Sub knew that there was enough sea room toclear the saw-like ridge of rocks.
"By Jove! What a death-trap!" ejaculated Farnworth, as the whalerfollowed the gig round the extremity of the reef.
Dick nodded acquiescence. As a sailor he had a wholesome respect for alee shore. He feared the perils of the coast far more than the chanceof falling into a hostile ambush.
"Lay on your oars!" he ordered.
The boats of the _Tremendous_ were already at the rendezvous. Here itwas comparatively calm water, only a long oily roll setting in over thereef. The four small craft lay at a boathook's length apart while theofficers discussed the plan of operation.
"I propose that the two whalers make their way alongside the wreck,"said Bourne. "The gigs can lay off and cover them should they be firedupon. If anything befall either, and the crew cannot be rescuedwithout endangering the others, the men must make their way ashore asbest they can. We cannot afford to lose two boats."
"And what then?" asked the lieutenant of the _Tremendous_.
"They'll have to make an attempt to skirt the shore of the bay,"continued Bourne. "The chart shows that there is a beach extendingalmost as far as Bender Dagh Point. We would then stand a chance ofpicking them up, as it would be practicable to run a boat ashore underthe lee of the reef. You quite understand?"
The rest of the officers signified assent.
"Very well: the sooner we get to work the better. Nor'west by west aquarter west ought to bring us in sight of the wreck. Now carry on."
The two whalers pulled almost neck and neck at half a dozen boats'lengths apart, while at a good cable's length astern, and quiteinvisible to the rest, followed the gigs.
At a quarter of the distance across the bay the boats began to feel theeffect of the seas. Half-way the crested waves, broad on the portquarter, began to break over the gunwales. Two men were detailed tokeep baling, but in spite of their efforts the _Hammerer's_ whaler wasin danger of being swamped. To keep on the course was to courtdestruction. It was only by watching the waves, and meeting the moremenacing ones nearly bows on, that the frail craft was able to live inthe turmoil of angry water.
"Lumme! won't we have a job to clean our bloomin' rifles when we getback," muttered the "stroke" in tones loud enough for the Sub to hear.
Dick smiled grimly. It was a typical grumble of a British seaman. Hepaid no heed to the present danger; the possibility of not returning tothe ship never occurred to him. He was anticipating the irksome taskof removing the effects of salt water from his rifle and bayonet.
"See anything, Jones?" asked Dick of the bow-man, raising his voice toenable the man to hear above the roar of the elements.
The bowman faced about and, shading his eyes, peered through the mirk.For a few moments he gazed steadily.
"Something on our starboard bow, sir," he reported, "but it may be arock. Luff, sir, luff--there's a brute a-coming."
Farnworth tugged at the yoke-line, at the same time ordering the men to"back water, port--pull starboard!"
"Give way, all."
Forward dashed the whaler to meet the wall of water as near aspossible. It seemed as if nothing could prevent the frail craft frombeing overwhelmed by the avalanche of foam. The oarsmen, "keepingtheir eyes in the boat", saw nothing of the danger. The midshipmangripped the tiller-lines tightly and set his teeth. Dick realized theperil, but with great self-control moved hardly a muscle of his face,although he fully expected to find himself and his boat's crewstruggling for dear life in the water within the next few seconds.
Like a feather the boat's bows rose in
the air as she began to climbthe wall of water. It seemed as if the strenuous efforts of the rowerswould be totally insufficient to enable her to mount the toweringbarrier. The bowman, missing the resistance to his blade, collapsed ina heap on the thwart. Even in this moment of peril the Sub feltinclined to smile at the grotesque attitude of the unfortunate man.
Then, with less than half a dozen bucketfuls of water in her, thewhaler hung irresolute on the crest of the wave, and commenced herrapid plunge down the other side.
Two more waves of less height followed in quick succession. Then inthe ensuing "smooth", Farnworth steadied the boat on her course.
"That's her, sir!" sung out the bowman, who had extricated himself fromhis undignified position. "Well on the starboard bow now, sir."
The man was right. It was the unfortunate trawler. She lay with aconsiderable list to port, with the waves breaking right over her. Hermast and funnel had gone by the board. It was too dark to see whetherany of her crew remained.
But in the meanwhile what had happened to the _Tremendous's_ whaler,for there was no sign of her? Had she, Dick wondered, been overwhelmedby the heavy breakers which had all but swamped his boat?
The Fight for Constantinople: A Story of the Gallipoli Peninsula Page 6