The Fight for Constantinople: A Story of the Gallipoli Peninsula

by Percy F. Westerman

  CHAPTER XIII

  Torpedoed

  "Like hare and hounds, sir," said Farnworth with a forced laugh. "Aquarter of an hour's start, and then look out."

  "Less than that, I'm afraid," rejoined Dick. "Those fellows won't belong in arming and turning out. We'll take the lowermost terrace.They won't expect to find us there, for naturally they'll think we'vescurried towards the higher ground. All we've got to do for thepresent is to evade those two chaps we saw perched up on theledge--unless they've been warned."

  The fugitives hurried without exchanging further words, keeping closeto the cliff so as to escape the attention of the German officers whomthey had seen smoking cigars and leisurely surveying the scenery.

  Presently Dick pointed upwards. The midshipman nodded. They wereimmediately underneath the unsuspecting Teutons. Just at that momenthalf a dozen German seamen from the submarine appeared, advancing inextended order.

  Crouching, the fugitives continued their way, but before they hadtraversed another twenty yards an irregular volley rang out.

  "They've spotted us," gasped Farnworth.

  The next instant the Sub saw two grey-coated forms hurtling through theair. With a sickening crash they fell almost at the feet of theBritish officers. The Germans had brought down their lucklessfellow-countrymen, who, ignorant of what had happened, had been takento be the escaped prisoners in their disguise as Teutonic officers inthe Ottoman service.

  "Cut for it," whispered Dick. "They can't see us from the road. We'veanother chance."

  Both men, bending low, doubled along the terrace till a projecting cragseparated them from the scene of the blunder. On and on they ran tillthey reached the defile that cut through the series of ledges. Fiftyfeet beneath them was cover in plenty, but every inch of that distanceseemed as smooth as a brick wall. It was equally impossible to ascendto the next terrace, for the whole of the last quarter of a mile thecliff assumed an almost perpendicular aspect and was absolutelyunclimbable.

  "Look, sir!" exclaimed Farnworth, pointing to the road.

  Almost abreast of where they stood were three magnificent horses, heldby a ferocious-looking Turkish cavalryman. At this point the groundshelved gradually. It would be a comparatively easy matter to gain theroad, but the difficulty was that farther along the track was theOttoman cavalry escort.

  "We must risk it," declared the Sub. "It's touch and go."

  Boldly leaving their place of concealment and descending the slope, thetwo fugitives approached the Turkish soldier. The man, knowing nothingof what was taking place at the seaward end of the valley, stifflysaluted the supposed German officers, and when they clambered awkwardlyinto the saddles he offered no objection, although his face showedunbounded surprise as he was left with only one horse in his charge.

  Obediently the captured steeds broke into a canter. Perhaps it waswell that they did not gallop, for both officers were indifferenthorsemen. Like most seamen they could hold on to practically anything,so they stuck to the saddles and resisted the involuntary inclinationto be pitched off into the dusty road.

  "Now for it," muttered Dick, as a sharp bend in the mountain pathbrought them in sight of the mounted rear-guard.

  It was an anxious thirty seconds, but before the Turkish irregularscould penetrate the deception the two British officers were through andheading towards the open country.

  "BEFORE THE TURKISH IRREGULARS COULD PENETRATE THEDECEPTION THE TWO BRITISH OFFICERS WERE THROUGH"]

  "Enough!" gasped Dick after cantering another two miles. "We'llabandon the gee-gees and trust to our legs. We wouldn't stand a ghostof a chance when those fellows are ordered in pursuit."

  Almost pulling their steeds upon their haunches they dismounted, andreluctantly administering a sharp cut with the flat of their scabbardsupon the animals that had served them so well, sent them gallopingmadly in the opposite direction to that of the convoy.

  Then, taking a course almost at right angles to the road, the fugitiveswere soon deep in a scrub-covered expanse of undulating ground.

  "A good start," ejaculated Dick breathlessly. "By the time they'vediscovered their mistake over those two German officers and haveexplained matters to the Turks, we ought to be well on our way to KumKale."

  "Twenty-four hours, they said, before the submarine puts to sea, sir,"remarked Farnworth. "We ought to do it well before that time."

  "I hope so," added the Sub. "By Jove! It will be a serious matter ifwe don't."

  Once more night was drawing on apace, yet, in their ardour to warntheir comrades of an unexpected peril, they gave no thought to fatigue.Guided by the stars, the Sub shaped a course which he reckoned wouldbring them within the district supposed to be held by the FrenchExpeditionary Force. By daylight they should be well within sight ofKum Kale.

  "Steady!" cautioned Dick, as they commenced to descend a steepdeclivity. "I fancy we're close to the sea again."

  "I certainly can hear surf," declared the midshipman.

  "So much the better unless the coast is very much indented," added theSub. "We can't be so very far from Yenikeui."

  "Hope the Turks aren't there in force, like they were last time, sir."

  "Not much fear of that. More than likely we'll stumble across a Frenchoutpost."

  Down and down they went, till Dick felt certain they had descendednearly five hundred feet. At some distance in front of them roseanother line of hills--the last natural barrier before they reached thehistoric Plains of Troy.

  Suddenly the midshipman's foot caught in the exposed root of a gnarledand dwarfed tree, and with a stifled exclamation he pitched upon hishands and knees.

  "Halt! Who goes there?" demanded a voice in unmistakable English, soclose that the Sub nearly ran upon the point of a bayonet thatglittered in the starlight.

  "Friends," replied the Sub promptly.

  "Maybe," retorted the sentry. "All the same, blessed if I likes thecut of your rig. So hands up, and no blessed fuss or I'll fire."

  Obediently Dick raised his grey-sleeved arms, while the midshipman,regaining his feet, followed his example. Then a second figure joinedthe first, and a torch flashed upon the faces of the two officers.

  "Germans, by smoke!" exclaimed the first sentry. "Bloomin' officers,too. I'll take good care these fellows don't give me the slip."

  "Bluejackets!" ejaculated the Sub.

  "Stow your bloomin' lip," ordered the sentry menacingly.

  Dick complied, mentally picturing the seaman's confusion when theidentity of the supposed prisoners was established.

  In a few seconds half a dozen bluejackets, headed by a sub-lieutenant,appeared on the scene.

  "What have we here, Jenkins?" asked the officer.

  "Germans, sir. Strolled right on top of me bayonet."

  "Good! March them in. I'll question them when we get them on board."

  "One minute," expostulated Dick.

  "Eh--what's that? You speak English," exclaimed the officer.

  "Rather--I am a British officer, and so is my companion."

  "Keep off it--bloomin' cheek," interposed the man who had held up thesupposed Germans.

  "Silence, there!" rapped out the Sub-lieutenant sternly.

  Dick gave his name and rank, and that of his brother officer.

  "But be sharp and take us on board," he added. "You'll have to send anurgent message to the Admiral. It's a matter of extreme importance."

  The sense of caution was deep within the mind of the Sub in charge ofthe landing-party; and although he complied with Dick's request tohasten, he took good care to have the two grey-uniformed men surroundedby armed seamen until he reached the shore of a creek.

  Here, lying about a cable's length off, was a submarine of the "E"type. She was almost awash, her hatches being open, while askeleton-like framework extended over her contour from bow to stern.

  Five minutes later the rescued officers found themselves within thehull of the vessel, where they were quickly able to establ
ish theiridentity, and the Lieutenant-Commander's face grew grave as he listenedto their narrative.

  "A 'U' boat in these waters!" he remarked. "Well, I'm not altogethersurprised. Luckily, I'm in an independent command, so we'll see if'dog won't eat dog'. I'll go for her, by Jove! I suppose you couldrecognize the creek?"

  "It's less than twenty miles sou'-east by south, I should think,"replied Dick. "Of course I haven't seen the place from seaward, but Ithink I could spot it."

  "Strange!" exclaimed the Lieutenant-Commander when he had introducedhimself as Aubrey Huxtable. "I cannot see any opening shown on thischart."

  "It would be about there," said Dick, pointing to a position where thecoast-line presented an unbroken front. "The mountains on either sideare shown, so I feel fairly certain about it."

  "Very good; we'll proceed at once," declared Huxtable. "I'd send awireless to the _Hammerer_ announcing your safety, only it would be toorisky."

  "Exactly what the commander of the 'U' boat said," added the Sub."Well, after six weeks of it, a few hours more won't hurt."

  "Say thirty-six," corrected Huxtable; "that is, unless you have strongreasons for not accompanying us. We were just about to start for ajaunt up the Dardanelles; that is the reason for this gadget," and heindicated the curved latticed girder above his head.

  "An idea of mine," continued the Lieutenant-Commander. "It may workall right. The armourer's crew of the _Tremendous_ rigged it up. Youcan see the overhead girder. There are others--one on each side, andat present seven feet below the water-line, and at a minimum distanceof eighteen feet from the hull. All three meet at a point bow andstern."

  "A kind of rigid crinoline," suggested Dick.

  "Precisely. The idea is that if we encounter mines these steel rodswill push the cables attached to the sinkers clear of us. Also, if theTurks had laid mines in pairs connected by a horizontal bridle, as Ifancy they have, these guides will lift the obstruction clear of thehoused periscope or any projection on deck."

  "And if the mine explodes?"

  The Lieutenant-Commander shrugged his brawny shoulders.

  "That remains to be seen. For my part, I fancy that a cushion of watereighteen feet between the point of explosion and the side of our craftwill considerably neutralize its effect. My governor was on the staffon the _Vernon_ when they experimented with the old _Resistance_ inPortchester Creek. He told me most emphatically that a torpedoexploded electrically alongside her extended torpedo-nets did nomaterial damage to the hull. In fact, all the damage caused by theexplosion was the unshipping of one bracket of the booms and a rent inthe mesh of the nets. So I've pinned my faith on my device, and we aregoing to test it. Of course, if you wish to be put aboard----"

  "Not at all," protested Dick. "I'm perfectly game."

  "And young Farnworth?"

  "Better ask him, sir," replied Crosthwaite.

  Calling the midshipman to him, the skipper briefly outlined his plansand made him a similar offer.

  "Only too glad of the opportunity, sir," declared Farnworth, his eyesglistening at the prospect of a daring piece of work.

  "I'm glad of it," rejoined the Lieutenant-Commander. "Having completedour fit-up, I was not keen on displaying it to the eyes of the fleet.I'd rather wait until it has proved its merits. Well, we are ready tostart. We'll submerge to ten feet, and if you'll stand by, Mr.Crosthwaite, and help me to con her into this secret lair, I'll beeverlastingly grateful."

  "How do you propose to attack--by gunfire or torpedo?" enquired Dick.

  "Oh, torpedo, by all means. Let the Germans know that we can use the'tinfish' whenever we get something worth going for."

  The crew were now at their diving-stations.

  Calmly and distinctly the Lieutenant-Commander gave his orders, andwith a barely perceptible tilt the submarine dived till the gaugeregistered the required distance.

  It was still dark. Through the periscope, only the rugged outlines ofthe shore were visible. Distance has to be estimated by the apparentheight of the land; while steering a compass course the submergedvessel simply groped along, with her extended periscope rising clear ofthe turtle-back girder and showing less than two feet above the surface.

  "We ought not to be far from the spot now," remarked the skipper afteran hour had elapsed. "Do you make anything of it?"

  Dick, who had borrowed a razor from an obliging officer and had removedhis moustache and stubbly beard, was carefully examining the image inthe object-bowl of the periscope. It revealed a seemingly unbrokencoast, backed by two lofty mountains, one of which was serrated on itswestern side.

  "That's the place," declared the Sub. "Those ridges are the terraceswhere we played a novel game of hide-and-seek. That hummock is wherethe Germans posted a sentry. The entrance is about a cable's length tothe left of it."

  "Very good; we'll close the shore a bit," said theLieutenant-Commander; and signing to the quartermaster to starboard thehelm till the vessel was eight points off her former course, he orderedspeed to be reduced to five knots.

  "It's a lucky job there are no currents in this part," commented theskipper. "By Jove, what a hole! and I thought I knew every yard of thecoast between Kum Kale and Smyrna."

  As the British submarine approached the shore the narrow entrance beganto show itself in the form of a gap in the cliffs, backed by the highground surrounding the inlet. Owing to the submarine's slow speed herperiscope hardly made a ripple on the placid surface, yet officers andmen were on thorns lest the German look-out would detect thephosphorescent swirl as the vertical metal tube forged gently throughthe water.

  "Let's hope there isn't a bar here," muttered the skipper.

  The words were hardly out of his mouth when a dull, rasping soundannounced the unpleasant fact that the submarine was scraping over theshingly bottom. To reverse the motors to back off the ledge would meaninstant detection.

  Ten seconds of breathless suspense followed. During that time thesubmerged craft was still forging ahead, till without losing way sheslid into deep water. She was safely within the secret haven.

  "By Jove, I've got her! There she is!" exclaimed theLieutenant-Commander.

  It was now dawn, with sufficient light to discern the outlines of the_unterseeboot_. She had warped out from her inshore berth, and was nowlying at anchor in about the same position as when Dick had firstdiscovered her. Her deck was showing about two feet above the surface.Alongside was the Berthon boat with two men on board. On the submarinethe only signs of life were a couple of seamen patrolling the limitedextent of deck.

  "Stand by--both tubes," ordered the Lieutenant-Commander. He wasdetermined to take no risks of a miss.

  The twenty-one-inch gleaming steel cylinders, set to the minimum depth,were already in the tubes. The torpedo gunner and his mate were grimlyalert, grasping the ball-ended levers that were to liberate the chargeof compressed air.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, the British submarine swung to starboard, untilher skipper knew that the fixed tubes were pointed straight towardstheir quarry.

  "Ready--fire starboard!"

  With a hiss as the air, hitherto compressed to two hundred pounds tothe square inch, rushed from its compression chamber, the deadlymissile sped on its way. Beyond the swish of the inrushing water thatwas automatically admitted to compensate the loss of weight caused bythe speeding torpedo, not a sound broke the deadly stillness pervadedthe interior of the submarine.

  Four seconds later a dull roar betokened the fact that one torpedo wassufficient for the work of destruction.

  "Blow main ballast tank," ordered the skipper.

  No need for caution now. The victor could appear on the surface withimpunity. She rose almost vertically, for she had almost lost way.With the water pouring in cascades from her steel deck she flungherself free from the encircling embrace of the sea, and curtsied tothe morning air.

  Hatches were quickly opened, and officers and men rushed on deck to seewith their own eyes the result of their
successful work.

  Already the _unterseeboot_ had vanished for the last time. Anever-widening circle of sullen water heavily tinged with oil, andsurmounted by a cloud of pungent smoke that was slowly dispersing inthe calm air, marked the spot where the luckless submarine had plungedto the bottom.

  The canvas boat was still afloat. Some distance from the point ofimpact of the torpedo she had withstood the suction of the sinkingvessel, and was now bobbing sluggishly to the undulations caused by therebound of the disturbed water from the sides of the creek. The twoGerman seamen, staring with wide-open eyes as if terrified by theappalling nature of the catastrophe, were crouching in the Berthon,while through the oil-spread water a third man was laboriously swimmingtowards her.

  "We'll let them go," decided the skipper. "They can tell their pals ofthe convoy that their second journey is for nothing. Besides, underforthcoming conditions, we have no room for prisoners of war."

  "There's another bloke, sir," sung out one of the crew. "He's prettynigh done for, I'll allow."

  The Lieutenant-Commander looked in the direction indicated. A fourthmember of the complement of the ill-starred _unterseeboot_ swimminglistlessly and aimlessly. He was apparently in the last stages ofexhaustion, and although his plight was observed by the men in thecanvas boat, either they were too callous or too stunned by theafter-effects of the catastrophe to attempt to row to his assistance.

  "Is there plenty of water, Mr. Crosthwaite?" asked the skipper.

  "Plenty, sir."

  "Easy ahead," ordered Huxtable. "Stand by with a line, men."

  Slowly the submarine approached the drowning man. Too much way wouldnot only be a detriment to his rescue, but would hazard the safety ofthe vessel.

  Two coils of rope were hurled at the luckless German, but although bothfell almost within arm's length of him he made no effort to grasp them.

  "Good heavens!" ejaculated Farnworth, "he's blind."

  "He's going!" shouted a man. "If he gets his head under the oil he'llnever come up again."

  "Bravo!" exclaimed the skipper as a brawny bluejacket kicked off hissea-boots and, without attempting to rid himself of his fearnought coatand sweater, plunged overboard.

  A dozen strokes brought him to the wellnigh unconscious Teuton.Seizing the fellow by the collar, his rescuer towed him alongside thesubmarine, where willing hands hauled both on deck, the Germanmuttering and gibbering incoherently, not knowing whether he was in thehands of friend or foe.

  "Lay on your oars!" shouted the Lieutenant-Commander in German to themen in the Berthon, who were now beginning to pull for the shore.

  They only redoubled their efforts; and it was not until the submarineoverhauled the boat, and ranged up so close that there was not room toswing an oar, that the Germans sullenly obeyed the summons to surrender.

  Their astonishment was great when their disabled comrade was carefullylowered into the boat and they were told to push off. Promptly theyobeyed, but as soon as they gained the beach the unwounded men leaptout and hastened up the mountain path. Before a projecting rock hidthem from sight they stopped and made derisive gestures at their humanefoes, then they vanished from sight.

  The skipper shrugged his shoulders.

  "Kultur," he remarked. "Those are the fellows who, had we beenstruggling for dear life, would have jeered at our despairing efforts."

  "But what can you expect from a navy that has no honourable traditions,sir?" asked Dick.