Gunboat Number 14

by Jens Kuhn

  Down there, father Wetterstrand and his daughter Anna did what they could to help. He mostly by words of encouragement and the attempt to turn the poor men’s eyes towards heavenly rewards, she by distributing water and reinforcing the men’s will to live by giving them a good peek at her bosom.

  On the Amelia, Eric af Klint was a little more comfortable. Also, he was quite confident he would survive. His wounds had not become infected, probably thanks to the care he had received from Anna, the voluptuous priest’s daughter. He had to admit he was quite impressed by her, albeit very confused by her behavior. She seemed to be a nice girl altogether, no uneducated farm girl at all. Yet she was a’whoring with the simple sailors and did not seem to have any shame about it. Eric af Klint had to admit that she aroused him, too, even if he never would even think of actually becoming physically involved with her. Or maybe just think of it.

  Most comfortable of all, however, was sub-lieutenant Gran. His boat was almost ready for sea, but as he had to wait for the repairs to be finished on Number 14 as well, he did not have much to do. Instead, he could be together with Eleonora, who, waiting for a transport to the Swedish mainland, was staying in a cabin on Amelia. There the young lovers had all the time in the world to get to know each other. Gran still was not convinced that they would have a future together, but he tried not to think about it too much. Eleonora was sure her father would approve of him, if he was alive at all. He had refused to leave his estate on Sandö together with the Wetterstrands, stating that he did not have any problem with the Russians who were behaving quite like gentlemen, despite confiscating all his livestock and most of his horses as well. But that was only to be expected after all.

  “You see,” father Wetterstrand had told her, “this estate is all he has after all and it seems he would rather be dead than having to live as a refugee in Sweden.”

  Eleonora did understand this, of course. But after what she had gone through, she could not think of returning to Sandö as long as there were Russians around. So Gran had proposed she could go to Sweden and stay with his parents until the war ended.

  “And perhaps after the war...”

  “Yes,” she had breathed as she leaned into his embrace.

  Chapter 12 - Tidings

  Dahlberg’s Gunboat Number 35 almost didn’t make it. When he returned to Sottungarna together with the rest of the surviving gunboats he had lost five men injured or dead. His boat had been hit by Russian round shot three times, two of which below the waterline. Dahlberg’s bosun had been able to patch the holes with plugs of canvas and oakum, but the crew had to bail continuously non the less.

  “We were lucky the Russians were such bad gunners,” he told Kuhlin. “They had at least twice as many boats and batteries on shore as well. Yet we stopped them twice, until they finally got through.”

  The battle of Sandöström had been a Russian success in the end. Now they had control of the important supply routes to Turku. The cost had been 22 gunboats lost or damaged. The Swedish side had lost 12. Thus, in sheer numbers one could have argued that the battle had been a Swedish victory. But Sweden needed every single boat, while the Russians had so many that they could afford losing quite a few. Also, the tactical objective had not been achieved.

  The king, who had arrived in the archipelago, was still convinced Turku could be relieved, though. He was assembling an army on Åland, 10 000 men or more, to be landed somewhere near the city. And the gunboats would have to protect the transports. But first they would have to be repaired.

  Eric af Klint was recovering fast, partly, as he reluctantly had to admit, thanks to Anna’s care. When he finally was prepared to resume his duty on Gunboat Number 14, he told her so.

  “You have been very kind, Anna.”

  She looked straight into his eyes. “I know.” Smiling slightly.

  “Eh, well, I wish you well. You are, eh.. one of a kind I dare say.”

  Anna touched his face slightly with her hand. “I will see you soon,” she said. Then she turned and left the room quickly.

  Kuhlin wasn’t on board when af Klint returned to the gunboat. Instead, Tapper welcomed him back.

  “Good to see you back, Sir. The boat is all ready and I have tried my best with that forward gun.”

  “Oh, the gun, yes.” Eric af Klint was still thinking about the priest’s daughter. What did she mean? He made his way forward and looked at the gun. Tapper had completely rebuilt the sliding carriage.

  “You replaced the tackles as well! Were did you find the ropes?”

  Tapper grinned. “Took them from the Russian gunboat we captured. Its lockers were full of all kinds of useful stuff.”

  “I see. Where is the lieutenant?”

  “Seeing the commodore. We may be off soon, I think.”

  “Well, Kuhlin,” the captain said. “As you know, the king is still going to land troops. I cannot tell you where, though as it is supposed to be a secret. Nor the date, as it is not set yet. We will have to wait for the boats to be repaired. And new boats from Stockholm, nine of them are said to be on their way.”

  Kuhlin nodded. “That’s a relief, Sir.”

  “Eh, yes. Well kind of. Still too few boats. Always too few.” He looked worried.

  “Anyway, while we wait, we have some scouting to do. Put some people ashore to find out things.”

  “Spies?”

  “Eh. Well. This priest, Wetterstrand. He has volunteered. Thinks he can make his way into Turku unmolested. Find out a few things.”

  Sub-lieutenant Gran held Eleonora’s hands firmly and looked into her deep blue eyes. As blue as the Baltic in summer, he thought. He saw that she was fighting back tears.

  “Please don’t. This will only be a short trip and we will soon see each other again.”

  She sighed. “But what if I get passage to Stockholm before you return? What am I to do..?”

  “You know what you should do. You will be taken care of, I promise. By the way, there are no ships going that way, and if any, they will be occupied by sick and injured. I am sure you will still be here.” He took her in his arms.

  The Wetterstrands embarked early the next morning. In order to make the passage a little more comfortable, Kuhlin had reluctantly ordered the aft gun to be removed and the space decked over by a makeshift canvas tent. In there the priest’s and his daughter’s belongings had been stowed as well as benches constructed on which the passengers could rest.

  Eric af Klint felt uneasy about the whole thing. He was not really sure why, though. Of course this was dangerous, but why did he care. He was thankful for the care Anna had given him during his recovery, but that surely could not motivate this uneasiness. As the priest had put it, this was not very dangerous at all. If they only could be landed unseen, nothing would be suspicious about a priest and his daughter traveling to Turku to meet relatives. The clergy was not considered to be part of the war, even less than the peasants who could be drafted, or even engage in spontaneous riots, as had happened on the Åland islands when the Russians had tried to land there earlier this year. Still, af Klint did not like this. Not in a general sense, and particularly not because Anna was involved in it.

  He did not talk to her about it though. In fact, he had not tried to talk to her at all since she had come aboard the gunboat, feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. After all, some of the crew had been involved in this incident in the barn. She did not look like she was bothered by it though. Quite the opposite, she occasionally smiled at some member of the crew. And at him. Clearly this girl could not be helped at all, he decided.

  Chapter 13 - Preparations

  Clouds hung threatening over the Finnish archipelago when Gunboat Number 14 quietly left the base. Lieutenant Kuhlin was glad to be able to avoid the drizzling rain by standing under the aft-most part of the canvas tent, only occasionally peering over its top towards the barely visible islands around them. Still, he’d rather get wet than having only one gun, he thought.

  “Don’t wo
rry about the gun, Sir,” bosun Tapper said suddenly. “On this mission one gun more or less wouldn’t save us anyway.”

  Kuhlin grunted, wondering if his bosun suddenly had become psychic. But he was right. They were on a scouting mission, about to set ashore people covertly, without the Russians noticing. Using guns was the very last thing they were supposed to do. But still...

  “Just let’s hope this weather holds,” he said finally.

  At least Gunboat Number 14 would not be completely alone on this mission. Sub-lieutenant Gran’s boat would follow her about halfway and then patrol further offshore in order to watch their backs. Or lure away Russian patrols if they encountered any.

  Eric af Klint sat next to his only remaining gun, apart from the swivels of course, his boat cloak tightly wrapped around him to keep him warm. August was supposed to be the warmest month of the year out here, but today it did not feel warm at all. Probably because everything was wet. He envied the Wetterstrands their canvas cover. Why did not all the boats have them? Of course he knew the answer. Canvas and gunpowder did not mix very well and the few boats who had some form of permanent shelter aft did have to make do with only one gun. He remembered the last battle, when the bow gun had broken down and they had been able to turn the boat around and continue to fight. So there were two sides to everything.

  That made him think about Anna. She did have two sides as well, he thought. Involuntarily he blushed, thinking about her naked body in that barn. What made her do this? And why was he so intrigued by it? She wasn’t even pretty. But there was something about her that attracted him strongly. He had to admit it. Perhaps it was her carelessness, that she did not seem to bother what people thought of her. He wondered what her father thought of her. Did he even know?

  About noon, Kuhlin ordered the boat to be stopped at a small island in order to prepare some hot lunch and give the crew some rest. This was partly due to the fact that they carried passengers, of course, who were not accustomed to the very simple creature comforts aboard a gunboat. But it wasn’t the only reason. The other was the weather. The rain had stopped and the sun was now shining brightly. Kuhlin did not want to move too near the Russian held coast in bright daylight. So in order to arrive there during the next night they had to take it slowly in the beginning. Thus they would make a night camp on another island about half way to their target, and then make a dash for it whenever the weather was bad enough. If they had luck it was raining during the next day, if not, they would have to take it slowly for another day.

  “I understand your concern, but I really would appreciate getting there as soon as possible.” Wetterstrand was impatient. Which was not a good thing for a spy to be, Kuhlin thought. But he did not say it. Instead he chose a slightly different approach.

  “It would do no-one any good if you got there fast but ended up dead.”

  “Nobody would hurt a priest!” Wetterstrand was self-confident. But Kuhlin wasn’t so sure.

  “Not even if they saw you disembark from an enemy gunboat?”

  Wetterstrand hesitated.

  “Maybe they would not kill you, father, but surely they would not allow you to report back anything to us. And you have to think about Miss Anna as well.”

  Wetterstrand merely grunted.

  Eric af Klint sat on a rock, absent-mindedly looking towards the islands around them. They really all looked the same. As an artilleryman, piloting boats at sea was not his strongest capacity and he held quite some admiration for the seamen who could find their way around here. He blinked into the sun, enjoying its warmth after the damp chill of the forenoon. His mind wandered towards Anna again. Why did she follow his father on this mission anyway? Surely spying wasn’t a woman’s job?

  “He would not be able to find out a thing without me, you know.”

  He turned around and saw her round face, eyes bright, almost glittering in the sunlight. He rose, standing in front of her.

  “Eh, I did not hear you coming.”

  “But you were thinking of me, weren’t you?” Smiling now. Eric af Klint blushed. What was it with this woman.

  “I do admit being intrigued by you, Anna.”

  “I know.” Still smiling, she sat down on the rock, leaving him standing, now with a formidable view into her cleavage. Eric af Klint swallowed, then sat down next to her, a little apart in order not to touch her, although he wanted to. He cleared his throat.

  “What do you mean?” He hesitated. “Why wouldn’t your father be able to find out anything?”

  “Because he is too honest. If anyone asked him why he wanted to know, he’d just tell him that he was gathering information for the enemy.”

  Eric af Klint looked into her face. But she looked dead serious.

  “So you mean...”

  “He is just the cover. You know, a woman cannot travel alone as easily.”

  He could understand that part.

  “And if someone asks you why you want to know....these things?”

  “I’ll make them think of something else.” Smiling again. Eyes sparkling. Her bosom heaving with every breath.

  “I do not doubt it for a minute.”

  Now she laughed. And Eric af Klint laughed with her, laughed until he felt a sting of pain in his recently healed wound. He flinched. Anna stopped laughing directly, instinctively putting her hand where the wound had been. Leaning towards him, her hand only a few inches above his hip, her face only inches from his.

  “I’m sorry,” she breathed quietly, almost whispering. “Does it hurt much still?”

  Eric af Klint needed all his strength not to pull her towards him and do something he surely would regret. Instead he straightened up and gently pushed her away.

  “Not any more, thank you.”

  “Of course.” She almost giggled.

  Two hours later they were under way again. This was an open stretch of water and the wind was favorable. For the first time since they had crossed the Åland sea, Lieutenant Kuhlin ordered the masts to be stepped and sail to be set. With the crew resting on their seats, or on the floorboards between them, the gunboat sailed towards the distant line of islands off the coast of Finland proper.

  “How does she handle?” Kuhlin asked bosun Tapper who was at the helm, moving the tiller cautiously, feeling the boat react. Surely without the aft gun the boat would be less stable, more difficult to handle?

  “A little more weather helm than usual, perhaps, and she does heel a little more, Sir. But nothing to worry about in this wind.” Tapper grinned.

  “Good. Very good.”

  Kuhlin ducked under the canvas cover and descended into the makeshift cabin where the priest was sitting over a book.

  “I’m sorry father, but I was looking for Miss Anna.”

  “Ah, lieutenant. Well, she has gone forward I think, now that it’s possible...with the men not rowing...”

  “Of course. Eh. Never mind.” Kuhlin turned in order to leave.

  “You do know, don’t you?” the priest suddenly asked.

  Kuhlin stopped.

  “Know what?”

  “That I’m not the real spy.” Hesitating.

  “Yes, the commodore told me.”

  “Good.” The priest seemed to be relieved.

  “I cannot really understand that you are letting her do this though.”

  “There is nothing I can do about it.”

  “Why? Surely you could tell your daughter not to....ah.” Kuhlin suddenly saw it.

  “She is not my daughter, lieutenant. Do you really think I would let my daughter behave like she does? I am a priest, Sir!”

  Kuhlin felt a little embarrassed.

  “Yes, I should have seen that. I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be embarrassed about, Lieutenant. I am quite surprised that people do not see the obvious here.”

  Kuhlin did not really know what to say.

  “Well, let’s hope the Russians are as easily fooled then.”

  Kuhlin made his way forward. Miss Anna
was standing in the bows, looking forward, her hair trying to escape the ribbon that held it in place. Next to her, af Klint was sitting on one of the chests that held his precious cannonballs, looking at her back. He turned when he heard Kuhlin approaching.

  “Nice day for sailing, Sir.”

  “Yes, af Klint. Finally.” Kuhlin answered lightly. As a former navy man he did not give much for this rowing business. He continued forward until he stood next to the woman. She turned to look at him and smiled.

  “Hello, Lieutenant?”

  “Miss Anna. I’d like to talk to you for a minute, please?”

  “Alright.” Her smile fading as she realized that Kuhlin had not come to socialize.

  “I was wondering about where to put you ashore. Do you have any...eh...preferences?”

  “Not really. But it would help if there was a track or road nearby. I’m not that good at finding my way through a forest.”

  “Ah.” Kuhlin tried to imagine the chart of the coastline.

  “Hm. Well, if there is a road, there may be Russians on it, Miss.”

  “I am aware of that, Lieutenant.” She smiled again.

  “Very well. We will try to put you ashore near a road then. But you will have to walk through some forest first. We cannot simply let you off at an ordinary landing stage.

  “I know. I’ll manage.”

  “I’ll give you an escort of course. Until you are on the road.”

  “That would be nice.” She shot a glance at af Klint.

  Chapter 14 - Dangerous impulse

  Eric af Klint ordered his men to stay behind at the beach. This one he would have to do alone. He did not even know why he was doing it, it wasn’t covered in his orders and probably stupid as well. He continued to walk slowly through the forest. It was just after midnight, but not completely dark, thanks to the almost full moon and a clear sky. Still, he had to move carefully in order to avoid the small branches that tried to whip his face and hands. He silently cursed the sound his boots were making on the ground. If there were any Russian sentries nearby, they surely must be able to hear him, with not even a breath of wind disturbing the silence.