The Mystery Ship: A Story of the 'Q' Ships During the Great War

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The Mystery Ship: A Story of the 'Q' Ships During the Great War Page 17

by Percy F. Westerman


  CHAPTER XVII

  MUTINY

  "HANS!" whispered Seaman Kaspar Krauss of U 247. "Do you know whatour swine-headed kapitan has made up his mind to do?"

  "How should I?" responded Hans Furst with a grunt. "Something thathas upset your apple-cart."

  "He's taking the vessel back to Ostend," announced Krauss. "It'smadness. To say nothing of the danger of mines, it's putting ourheads into a noose. With Wilhelmshaven and Heligoland dead under ourlee, why does he persist in making for Ostend? The boat is hardlyseaworthy; we are short of food, and yet----"

  A petty officer, stooping to avoid the overhead gear, thrust his headand shoulders through the oval aperture in the transverse bulkhead.

  "Herr Kapitan wants you, Kaspar Krauss," he exclaimed curtly. Theseaman wiped his hands on a piece of cotton waste, looked into theburnished reflector of a lamp to assure himself that his cap was onstraight, and hurried along the congested alleyway.

  "Wonder what he wants me for?" he thought. He had done nothing asfar as he knew to merit either praise or censure. It was somewhatunusual for a kapitan to summon a seaman. Orders would be generallycommunicated through the medium of a petty officer.

  Ober-leutnant von Preugfeld was sitting on a camp-stool on theafter-part of the deck. Behind him stood Unter-leutnant Eitel vonLoringhoven, while at his side were three men rigidly at attention.

  The U-boat was running awash, the conning-tower being occupied forthe time being by the chief petty officer.

  Kaspar Krauss felt far from comfortable. The sight of the threemotionless wooden-faced seamen--comrades of his--heightened hisdiscomfiture.

  "See here, you swine!" began the amiable von Preugfeld, curtlyacknowledging the man's salute. "You were slow--abominably slow--inexecuting orders. What have you to say?"

  Krauss moistened his dry lips, trying vainly to recall the incidentto which the ober-leutnant referred.

  Von Preugfeld eyed him like a cat about to pounce on a mouse. He wasfuriously angry, and wanted to vent his wrath upon some one who couldnot retaliate. The cause of his fury had nothing to do with KasparKrauss's delinquency. He had just been referring to the EnglishEncyclopaedia to discover the meaning of the epithet "old bean," andto his almost speechless indignation he found that one of his RoyalAir Force prisoners had likened him to "the seed of certainleguminous plants, universally cultivated for food"--and old at that.

  "You were fifteen seconds slow in carrying out my order to blow theauxiliary ballasttank, you wooden-faced pig!" exclaimed vonPreugfeld. "For the remainder of the voyage you will work doubletricks and keep for'ard look-out on deck whenever we are running onthe surface. Now go!"

  Kaspar Krauss, outwardly pale but inwardly fuming, saluted with afaint suspicion of reluctance, and began to make his way aft untilthe guttural voice of his kapitan called him back.

  "Is that the way you salute me, _schweinhund_?" demanded vonPreugfeld. "If I find any more signs of slackness on your part, lookout. That's all. Now, again: dismiss!"

  Von Preugfeld watched the fellow out of sight and then turned to hissubordinate.

  "There's nothing like being firm with these brutes, von Loringhoven,"he said in a loud voice, as if to impress the fact upon the threeseamen. "Take my advice: come down on them like Thor's hammer themoment you see them giving signs of discontent. How many men havebeen placed in the report this trip?"

  "Eleven, Herr Kapitan," replied the unter-leutnant, smacking hislips with relish. "A third of the ship's company."

  "That shows good discipline, Eitel," rejoined von Preugfeld."Cast-iron discipline--that's the secret of efficiency."

  He made his way to the conning-tower and spent some moments poringover a chart of the centre portion of the North Sea. There weremine-fields in profusion. Those laid by the British were shown inblue, those of German origin were indicated in red. On paper theylooked formidable, but unfortunately for von Preugfeld there werehundreds of others either drifting or else uncharted. He, too, cursedthe wireless order that was responsible for U 274 making for Ostend.

  Having checked the course and given further instructions to thequartermaster, von Preugfeld strolled aft, took a leisurely survey ofthe horizon and, finding nothing in the shape of a vessel, settledhimself once more in his deck-chair.

  Meanwhile 'tween decks discontent was seething. The men, disheartenedand hungry, were aghast at the idea of making for the Belgian coast.Many of them were undergoing punishment for various slight offences.Krauss, one of the more advanced agitators, was holding forth uponthe purposeless brutality of the kapitan.

  Just then von Loringhoven made his way for'ard. Possibly by accident,one of the group of malcontents lurched against him, for thesubmarine was rolling in the sullen swell.

  "Pardon, Herr Offizier!" exclaimed the man. It was Furst, slow ofaction yet quick to take offence.

  The next instant von Loringhoven raised his clenched fist and struckthe man heavily in the face. It was the unter-leutnant's idea ofimparting discipline with an iron hand according to the advice givenby Kapitan von Preugfeld.

  Von Loringhoven had struck his men before. He had seen them standrigidly at attention, meekly bearing blows as becomes a military ornaval subject of the Kaiser. He expected Furst to do likewise, but tohis unbounded astonishment the German bluejacket planted a staggeringblow right in the centre of the unter-leutnant's chest.

  Von Loringhoven reeled and fell heavily against a large air-flask.There he lay breathless and unable to utter a sound.

  For a few moments the men were dumfounded. Oft-times they had formedmental pictures of striking their officers to the deck. Now the ideahad become a reality.

  "You'll be shot for this, Hans Furst," exclaimed one of the men.

  "Perhaps," replied Furst. "And all of you with me. I struck the pig,I admit, but you were standing by and did not stop me. So that'smutiny."

  "Yes; that is so," agreed Krauss. "We've started, so why not carry itthrough? I owe the kapitan a debt which I mean to pay. Furst willhelp. Who joins?"

  There was no lack of offers of assistance. The men knew that whetherguilty or innocent they would have to suffer. They had no definiteplan. It was merely a sudden conflagration on the part of men stifledby adverse conditions. Carried away by the unexpected turn of events,their seething discontent flared up into the red flame of mutiny.

  "Down with von Preugfeld!" hissed Krauss. "Come with me, brothers!"

  Maintaining a certain amount of caution, a dozen of the mutineersswarmed up the fore-hatch and made their way aft. Von Preugfeld,seated in the deck-chair and deep in a book, took no heed of theirapproach until, with a cat-like spring, Krauss leapt upon him. Thechair collapsed. The kapitan and his assailant fell on the deck in aconfused heap.

  Although a bully and a coward by nature, von Preugfeld put up a stifffight when cornered. Recovering from his sudden surprise, he foughtand struggled desperately, shouting in vain to von Loringhoven forassistance. The unter-leutnant was at that moment being held by twostalwart Frisian seamen.

  Over and over rolled von Preugfeld and his attacker. Punching,kicking, snarling and even biting, the two tackled each othertenaciously--the blue-blooded Prussian and the plebeianFrisian--while the rest of the mutineers looked on with evidentrelish, until it occurred to them that they might have a hand in thediscomfiture of their hated taskmaster.

  It was not until half a dozen had thrown themselves upon the wellnighbreathless von Preugfeld that the unequal struggle ended. Theober-leutnant was bound hand and foot and secured to a ring-bolt--anobject for derision and coarse jests from his captors.

  Shouting to the quartermaster to telegraph to the engine-room to stopthe motors, Furst, who by common consent was acclaimed theringleader, ordered all hands on deck. The mutineers' first councilof war was about to begin.

  The outbreak had been spontaneous. A general mutiny of submarinecrews had been thought about, and the idea was taking firm root; butthis ebullition was almost unpremeditated. The men had no definiteplan. They were lit
erally and metaphorically at sea.

  "Let's hoist the Red Flag," suggested one. "Our comrades on the other_unterseebooten_ will join us."

  "Unless we meet an English ship of war in the meanwhile," addedanother. "I propose we hoist the White Flag and take the boat into anEnglish port. We'll be well treated."

  "Yes," admitted Furst; "but what will happen after the war? Supposingthe English treat us as mutineers and hand us over to Germany whenpeace is signed? What then?"

  "And I, for another, wish to get back to my wife and children,"exclaimed a mutineer of timorous fibre. "I vote we alter our coursefor Hamburg or Wilhelmshaven."

  "And what then?" demanded Krauss scornfully. "There'll be questionsasked. We will be put under arrest straight away and no doubt shot.That's not good enough."

  "It will be all right if we throw these pigs overboard," said Furst,indicating the two officers, who were now both lying bound on deck."We can say that they were swept overboard in heavy weather. We mustall stick to the same tale. It will be of no use for anyone to betrayus. We're all hand in glove in this business."

  "Supposing an English ship of war does appear?" queried the timorousone. "We'll be sunk at sight. You know the way they have."

  "We could submerge," declared Krauss loftily.

  "And who will take command if we do," persisted the man. "I know ofno one of us able to manage this boat under water. I'd rather take mychance and hoist the White Flag. Besides, haven't we Englishprisoners--officers--on board? They might help us if we treated themwell."

  "That is so," admitted Furst. "Meanwhile we'll steer east forGermany."

  "Who is navigator?" asked a mechanic. "Do you know anything ofnavigation, Hans Furst?"

  Furst was obliged to admit that he knew but little. Takingobservations--a very necessary accomplishment when one has to threada way through mine-fields--was beyond him.

  "I'll try," he added. "We can but hope for the best. But now we mustfirst get rid of these."

  He pointed to the late kapitan and unter-leutnant of U 247.

  "Shoot them," suggested the revengeful Krauss.

  "Too easy a death," objected Furst. "We'll toss them overboard."

  Some of the men moved aft to carry out the suggestion, but Furstcalled on them to stand by.

  "Cast off those lashings," he ordered, with a grim laugh. "We'll givethem a chance to swim for it. The nearest land is only about twohundred miles away. It will give them time to think over things.Start up those motors again and get way on her."

  The men obeyed promptly. The idea of seeing their former officersstruggling for life "in the ditch" appealed to their innate cruelty.After all, they argued, they were only revenging themselves upon twotyrants who had shown no mercy to the crews of British merchantvessels they had sunk.

  Von Loringhoven squealed like a stuck pig when he saw one of theseamen advancing with a drawn knife. With a couple of deft cuts theunter-leutnant's bonds were severed. Two brawny men seized him byarms and legs and with a swinging heave tossed him over the side intothe water.

  Von Preugfeld, cursing, imploring and struggling, shared the samefate, his exit watched by all the hands on deck save one, who,evidently lacking the nerve to witness the tragedy, had steppedunobserved to the other side of the conning-tower.

  Then, increasing her speed to twelve knots, U 247 turned eightdegrees to port and headed for the distant shore of Germany, leavingvon Preugfeld and his subordinate struggling for life in the coldwaters of the North Sea.

 

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