“Absent friends.”
They clinked glasses and drained the spirits in one smooth gulp. Then the bottle and the glasses were returned.
“I understand loss young man. If you need someone to talk to, you can talk to me or the base chaplain. We can sort you out and prevent you from being laughed at in the saloon’s here in town.”
Chapter 26: A Tropical Vacation
The Santiago arrived off of Isla de Vieques two weeks after the meeting with Colonel Graham and the other men from the Signals Bureau. During their trip to the island, San Juan had fallen. The local Spanish commander had more backbone than the Confederates gave him credit for. He was able to get most of his regulars out of the city at night and left a token resistance of well uniformed militia to surrender the city, including the militia captain in one of the General Montega’s best dress uniforms.
The locals reported that it took the Germans several days to realize that they had not captured the real garrison of San Juan. At that time, Generale Montega had his forces mobilizing in the interior and striking at German supply convoys.
…
The weather on the island was beyond hot. Devareaux felt as if he had to cut his way through the humidity. The room reeked of incense that the geniuses at the Signals Bureau promised would keep away the insects. He clawed his way out of the netting that covered his bed. Once free he reached for the bottle of local vinegar and began to liberally daub it on himself.
His fellow officers laughed at him when he first did this. Devareaux remembered reading somewhere that the Romans used vinegar as insect repellant so why shouldn't he. By this point, he did not even notice the smell. When he had less insect bites than the others, people stopped laughing and began to copy him. Citronella was not available and everyone there had sent requests back to headquarters for some. But for now, they had to make due.
He felt blessed that only three of the men had been stricken with malaria so far. He would check on them today after meeting with the fishermen. They needed to begin operations at once.
He held the cup of coffee close to his body as he ran through the rain squall to the hut for the meeting with the fishermen. He moved across the sodden compound and arrived at the hut they were using for planning. The door had warped slightly due to the wet weather and was stuck in place. It took him four tries before he was able to finally wrench the door open. This caused him to lose a substantial amount of coffee from his cup. The eyes of five men were locked on him when he finally made it through the door.
The fishermen were scared. They looked as if they believed it would be a German uniform that they would see emerge from the doorway rather than himself in Confederate gray. Well, as much of his uniform as he could bear to wear. He was in shirt sleeves, pants and boots. He also had on a local straw hat. The hat was rather cooling when it was not raining. The rain soaked through everything. He gave up on his rain slickers as they did not help and made him feel as if he were cooking inside the heavy garment.
He nodded seriously at the fishermen. A Spanish officer leaned against the far wall. He, like Devareaux, was also in shirt sleeves. He was smoking a cigar and blowing nearly circular smoke rings up at the ceiling. Tenente Julio Vargas was his interpreter. He and Devareaux got along well enough. Vargas was neither overly optimistic nor fatalistic about their chances. It was a good relationship.
Devareaux introduced himself to the fisherman and Vargas translated each sentence.
“Good morning, gentlemen. My name is Devareaux. I am with the Confederate Navy. We need you to ferry my men across to Puerto Rico.”
That last statement got them agitated and a string of rapid fire Spanish followed that Devareaux was hopeless to follow. He waited for them to finish and have Vargas explain.
Vargas at one point in the excitement struck one of the fishermen. This caused Devareaux to cock an eyebrow at his interpreter as the shouting continued.
Finally, things calmed down.
“These women are afraid that their boats will be sunk or stolen by the Germans if they help you. The Germans have confiscated many boats that were suspected of smuggling already. They fear that for what you plan on doing, they will do more than just confiscate their boats. That and they demand payment in full up front.”
Devareaux yawned uncontrollably. He rubbed at his eyes and then looked back at the group.
“Tell them that we can nationalize their boats for the government of Spain and do not have to compensate them at all. We are looking to hire them. They will be as safe as anyone else in this mess.”
Again the translation resulted in a flurry of yelling and excitement.
“Senor, the fishermen claim that there are informants who will tell of their involvement and their families will suffer for their cooperation.”
“Tell them that they can bring their families here. That will put them out of range of the Germans.”
The meeting continued on and on for two hours. Finally, they had negotiated a price. The captains were ready to help. Three of the fishing boats would carry a unit of 12 marines and a naval Gatling crew. The last would ferry over François Delacroix, Devareaux, Benjamin, additional food and spare equipment. They would travel with no visible lights. In theory they would move directly across and disembark on the Rio de Humacao near the city of Humacao.
The first boat in would disembark and the troops would secure a perimeter for them. If anything would go wrong, they would launch a flare. The second boat would have its troops move in and attempt to secure mules or horses for the gear. Only if there was trouble, would a flare be launched to warn off the others.
The engineers managed to mount a rocket launcher to the bow on each of the fishing boats. They could launch a Congreve rocket if it came to it or fire the Gatling from the stern. It would take three such landings to get the whole force across.
…
Devareaux looked through his telescope and watched the first of the fishing boats enter the river’s mouth. He scanned the horizon looking for signs of trouble. Sykes stood nearby. The waiting was telling on the men and they were nervous for their comrades. The second boat began to move when the first emerged from the river mouth headed back.
Once the second boat entered the river mouth, Devareaux spotted the problem. To the Southwest, he spotted some sparks from a smokestack. He concentrated the glass on it until he could make out the form. It was a dispatch boat of some kind. He could make out a single boiler and two masts with no sails. He could not make out any armaments on her deck, but he was no fool. That was too big for his fishing boats to handle. The first boat turned and ran back to the shelter of the mouth of the river. Devareaux’s boat and the other fishing boat turned to head back to home. They would try again tomorrow.
Something happened with the third boat. It started to swing around and a loud clang could be heard. The ship stopped dead. They were less than thirty yards from the stricken fishing boat and near enough to make out shouting.
A pistol discharged and a splash was heard as something was thrown overboard. The dispatch boat fired a flare and turned in their direction. Devareaux pulled his eye away from the telescope. He cursed under his breath. There was no way to win this. The dispatch boat looked like it could be the SMS Zieten. It sported two torpedo tubes equipped with 15 inch torpedoes. In addition, it had a pair of 4.7 inch guns. These were far heavier than the rockets in all of the fishing boats combined.
There was no way they could penetrate even the lesser armor of the ship’s side. Even a lucky hit by the rockets that they mounted on the two fishing boats would not sink the ship.
As the ship got closer to the fishing boats it began to lower some ship's boats. He could see marines and sailors climbing down the ropes to the small boats.
“Crap. This won’t end well. OK boys, let’s get the Gatling’s up to repel boarders. We will fire a rocket or two at the thing. Let’s see what we can do.”
The men ran and got a rocket on the launch rail. The Gatling was uncovered
and prepared. François Delacroix climbed to the deck. He had a couple of sticks of dynamite poking from his pocket. He looked like a mad anarchist from a bad novel. As Devareaux cocked an eyebrow at the man, he just gave him an expansive shrug.
The Germans were using a speaking trumpet and trying to address the fishing boats. The bows of the fishing boats were now facing the distant ship. The Gatling’s were ready to go. There were two yawls, a cutter and a dinghy in the water. Each was teeming with sailors. That must have reduced the possible crew by half.
Devareaux watched the ships boats advance. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet. When he judged the time to be right, he screamed.
“FIRE!”
Both rockets flared as they leapt out from their launchers. The Gatling guns on the two fishing boats also started hammering out as well. The cutter was the largest of the boats advancing on them, but it was furthest away. The dinghy was the smallest and was just ahead of the cutter. The two lead boats were the medium sized yawls were leading.
The Gatling fire concentrated on the two yawls. The rounds cut into boats and crew. Wood chips and body parts flew up in the air. The guns continued to hammer the close boats.
The two rockets streaked to the ship. The first rose too high and flew over the top of the ship missing completely. The second impacted directly on the waterline. The crew was already loading a second rocket on Devareaux’s ship.
The marines aboard the other fishing boat were adding their fire to that of the Gatling guns. The sound ripping out from the Confederate employed fishing boats was deafening. Shouts and cries could be heard from the German boats, but the words could not be heard.
Figures on the deck of the ship began scrambling for the 4.7 inch deck guns. They began wheeling towards the fishing boats.
The second rocket ripped out from Devareaux’s boat and moments later another ripped from the other boat. Devareaux’s rocket slammed into the bow of the ship right when the first of the deck guns was about to fire. The explosion threw off the aim of the fire and the first round from the deck gun streaked over the top of the fishing boat by a mere ten feet.
The second fishing boat’s rocket slammed into the superstructure. The explosion illuminated the deck and showed crew members being thrown from the nearby deck gun. Something was set on fire which helped them see the enemy ship and back lit the approaching boats. The second deck gun barked its first shots. Plumes of water erupted near the second fishing boat.
It became a race. Who could load and fire faster. It was quickly apparent that the 4.7 inch naval guns were faster than the makeshift rocket launcher. To help even the odds, the Gatling gun on the second boat poured its fire onto the ship in an attempt to silence the guns. Sparks could be seen cracking off of the gun shields on the deck guns.
More crew could be seen moving to the rear most deck gun that suffered crew loss from the rocket. Even under fire, the bow gun fired again and this time the shot landed beyond the fishing boat.
Both the rocket batteries fired again. Again Devareaux’s ship’s rocket plowed back into hull. This time it impacted between the first and second hull impacts. This was excellent shooting, but it did not penetrate the hull. The second fishing boat’s rocket got a lucky hit and exploded on the bow deck gun’s gun shield. The crew members were thrown back from their stations. The Gatling gun fire kept the rearmost 4.7 inch gun from firing as the crew took cover.
Devareaux looked towards the advancing boats. The Gatling gun from his boat had moved its fire towards the dinghy. The two yawls lay still. One was now drifting towards his ship and lay canted to port. Nothing moved within its confines. The other yawl had several figures moving, but they did not look to be a threat. The dinghy looked to be attempting to turn, but many of its oars were now floating in the water near the small boat. Nobody was visible above the gunnels of the boat. The Gatling was putting as much fire around the small boat as into it. The cutter had completely turned around and was attempting to return to the ship.
The next rocket from Devareaux’s boat stopped the cutter’s ambition. It seemed that the gunners had shifted aim. The rocket impacted the water to the starboard side of the cutter and lifted it out of the water and overturned it. Figures could be seen in the water around the upturned hull once the plume of water resolved itself.
The second fishing boat managed to launch its rocket completely over the vessel once again. Aiming for a small target like the superstructure was incredibly difficult. The fact that they had hit it at all was a miracle.
The Gatling fire from the second fishing boat stopped as the gunners reloaded. The pinned crew on the ship reacted instantly and managed to get off one shot before the Gatling gun could finish reloading and resume firing.
Luck turned against the Confederates for the first time in the engagement. The Gatling had just finished reloading when the shell slammed into the small superstructure of the fishing boat. The explosion destroyed not only the Gatling gun position but the bridge and bridge crew as well. Several people on the deck were thrown overboard as well. The casualties were unknown, but all firing ceased from that boat including the makeshift rocket battery.
The Gatling gun on Devareaux’s boat now turned and concentrated its fire on the ship. The small craft no longer appeared to be a threat. The fire on the superstructure provided the light needed to aim the Gatling.
Devareaux yelled at the captain to move toward the ship rapidly. The fishing boat began to pick up speed. The last rocket leapt off of the bow and raced back towards the ship. This one was aimed slightly higher than the others and hit the superstructure again. The explosion ripped a new large hole and set more fires.
No additional firing came from the ship. François was tying the sticks of dynamite together. He had a marine behind him carrying a small tub of tar. As they pulled up close to the enemy ship and François began to affix the dynamite to the hull. The sticky tar held the device in place and he lit the fuse. With a shout and the wave of his hand, the captain gunned the motor and they pulled away from the ship. As they pulled away, sailor could be seen moving about the deck now that they were not being fired upon. Several were moving back towards the 4.7 inch guns. Two of these German sailors noticed the impromptu bomb and were trying to reach it and jar it loose. The marines attempted to dissuade them and fired a few shots to scare them away. Before Devareaux and his men could reach a safe distance, the bomb exploded.
The explosion did its job and tore a large hole in the ship that extended below the waterline. Water, metal, wood and other debris rained down upon the fishing boat from the explosion. Not a single person aboard the ship was now dry. Several men were wounded from the flying debris and one was knocked unconscious.
Devareaux turned to congratulate François on his quick thinking and good work. He found the Frenchman in the arms of the marine who was helping him. A six inch long scrap of metal was protruding from François’ neck. Blood soaked the wet marine and François alike. As it turned out, François the mad bomber was the only fatality from his ship in the action.
Shaking his head sadly, he turned back to the task at hand. Devareaux pointed to the stricken fishing boat and yelled to the captain to go there. With the rockets and explosions, the area should soon be crawling with German naval vessels. The captain, still moving at full speed, aimed his vessel at the wounded fishing boat.
…
Devareaux leapt from his boat onto the burning ruin of the other fishing boat. Men were moving now on the deck of the stricken ship. Ropes were being thrown into the water to rescue those that were thrown overboard.
He found Benjamin almost immediately. The hair on the left side of his head was completely burned off. His uniform tunic was burned on his left side as well, but he seemed ok. He was moving and issuing quiet orders to the men. Touching a shoulder here and encouraging there. There was efficiency to everything he was doing.
Benjamin saluted Devareaux when he spotted him.
“Sir, we have five men dead and ano
ther ten wounded. We still have five men that are combat capable. The Gatling gun in the deckhouse is gone. The supplies in the hold are still in good shape. The fisherman and his son are dead. His cousin who was running the engines is still fine. The ship is seaworthy but we are dead in the water.”
Devareaux casually returned the salute.
“Good work. Are you doing alright?”
“What's this?”
Benjamin casually pointed to his hair and tunic.
“I was a bit too close to the fire in the deckhouse. It is mostly out now. I will be fine.”
“We will tow you to the river. The dead and wounded will be moved into my ship and the healthy will be put ashore with the others. We will sink your boat as it is a wreck anyway. The wounded will be taken back to base. Given my agreement with the fishermen, the Confederacy just bought itself a useless fishing boat.”
Chapter 27: Puerto Rico
With plans made, the fishing boats continued into the river mouth. Once the damaged fishing boat had been unloaded, the boat was scuttled and sunk in the mouth of the river. It was deep enough not to get in the way of the other fishing boats.
The fishing boats were forced to remain hidden deep in the river. It would be over a week before it was clear enough for them to attempt a dash across the channel again. Once they had left, the men knew they were on their own. If the boats made it, then someone would know where they were but they had no means of communication or resupply.
Lookouts were placed with Devareaux’s telescope to watch what happened with the sinking wreck of the German ship. The German Navy did not find the wreck until after first light. The ship was only partially submerged when they arrived.
CSS Appomattox: A Thomas Devareaux Alternative History Military Adventure (The Thomas Sumter Devareaux Series Book 1) Page 18