The Mystery Ship: A Story of the 'Q' Ships During the Great War
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CHAPTER XXXII
A NAVY IMPOTENT
THROUGHOUT the winter and the following spring Kenneth Meredith stillcarried on at Scapa. Wakefield, too, was temporarily retained, butotherwise the band of R.N.V.R. officers and men of the M.L. patrolwas steadily and rapidly diminishing.
Almost brand-new boats would steam out for the last time, bound southto lie, neglected and forlorn, in a Hampshire river, where a tier,four-deep and lengthening daily, was one of the many signs that theGreat War was practically over, even if Peace were not yet signed.
Jock McIntosh was one of the first to be "demobbed." He wentsmilingly, confident of the future, yet something about him seemed tostrike Meredith that his bright, almost jocular demeanour was alittle simulated.
There were reductions amongst the Air Force people, too. Blenkinsonand Jefferson went almost at the same time, reluctantly, into anunaccustomed world to start life afresh, as it were--Blenkinson intoan office, setting aside the "joy-stick" to take up the pen;Jefferson into slightly more congenial surroundings--to wit, a largemotor business.
Some months later Pyecroft went, via a demobilisation centre in thesouth of England, to take up the almost forgotten threads of study atan Engineering College.
Of all the R.A.F. fellows who, by chance, had been Meredith'scomrades on board Q 171, only Cumberleigh remained, "carrying on"until the order came for the Air Station to "pack up."
During those months following the Armistice, Kenneth and Wakefieldsaw a good deal of Cumberleigh. Although there was much work to bedone with the remaining M.L.'s, there was plenty of opportunity forleisure, and it was not to be wondered at that after months ofstrenuous and perilous occupation there was a decided tendency to"slack." Joy-riding, both afloat and in the air, was freely indulgedin. For one thing, it "kept one's hand in," and it was better to makeuse of both boat and machine than to allow them to rust anddeteriorate for want of use.
Several times Meredith accompanied Cumberleigh on a flight in a blimpover the interned German fleet. It was a novel sensation, drivingalong at fifty miles an hour in a motor-propelled gas-bag above thenow impotent Hun navy and observing battleship, battle-cruiser,cruiser and destroyer rusting at their respective moorings.
"I can't imagine why we don't shunt those Huns," remarkedCumberleigh, during one flight. The ignition of both motors had beenswitched off and the blimp was floating almost motionless in thestill air. "They're supposed to be 'care and maintenance parties,'but I'm hanged if I've ever seen them at work. The ships ought tohave been surrendered and prize crews put on board."
"Wakefield and I were talking to a pukka commander on the verysubject," said Meredith. "He quite agreed that Fritz ought to beshunted, but it appears that the Allied Council insists upon theGerman ships being kept in a state of internment."
"What for?" asked Cumberleigh.
"Pending a decision as to their disposal," replied Meredith."Personally I think it's rather a good scheme towing the lot out tosea and sinking them, as the Admiralty suggested."
"Why?" asked the R.A.F. captain. "It would be a precious waste ofgood material."
"It would," agreed Kenneth; "but at the same time it would do awaywith any danger of friction between the Allies as to the sharing-outdeal. Without a doubt it was the British Navy that brought about thesurrender. The Yanks, too, helped considerably. But neither we northe Americans want the ships. France, Italy and Japan might; butthere, you see, is a chance of squabbling. However, there they are,and seem likely to remain until Peace is signed."
"At the same time it's a risky business leaving Fritz on board,"declared Cumberleigh. "Everyone on the station is of the sameopinion, but, I hear, the Commander-in-Chief is helpless in thematter. Virtually the ships are German territory, even though theydaren't hoist their dirty flags."
"And we cannot board them to see what's going on," added Meredith."All we can do is to overhaul the weekly relief boat to see that shecarries no war material. There was a yarn knocking around that theHuns were deliberately tampering with the big guns."
"Yes," said Cumberleigh, "cutting deep grooves round the chases andfilling them in with putty and paint, so that if they were fired theywould burst and kill the guns' crews. That was authenticated, andphotographs printed showing Fritz's rotten trick."
"The Hun relief boat's due to-morrow," observed Meredith. "Wakefieldand I have to meet her at the entrance to Pentland Firth. Like tocome along with us?"
"Delighted," replied Cumberleigh, as he motioned to the mechanic to"carry on." "Look there a minute," he added. "See that Hun just abaftthe after-turret?"
Kenneth levelled his binoculars upon the deck of the shipindicated--the giant _Hindenburg_. The blimp was barely five hundredfeet up, and at that height it seemed as if one could touch thetrucks of her mast with a fishing-rod.
Standing on the quarter-deck was a burly German bluejacket. Otherswere sitting or sprawling on the formerly almost sacred deck, whereno officer or man would step without saluting the Black Cross Ensign.The fellow had his head thrown back and was gazing upwards at theBritish coastal airship, the while making hideous grimaces andshaking his fist, while his comrades were laughing at his antics anddoubtless applauding his expressions of anger.
"Sort of thing you'd expect from a Hun," observed Cumberleigh. "Heknows we can't strafe him, so I suppose he thinks he's getting somesatisfaction in making faces at us."
Meredith replaced his glasses.
"Yes," he remarked. "Case of little things please little minds. Goodheavens! Can you imagine our fleet lying in captivity at Kiel? Ican't. And yet those fellows don't seem to realise their rottenposition in the slightest."
"Well, we've seen all that there is to be seen," said Cumberleigh."Outwardly the Hun fleet seems _in statu quo_, but I'd like to knowwhat's going on 'tween decks."
"And so would a good many people," added Meredith.
The noise of the motors interrupted further conversation, as theblimp, describing a graceful curve, headed for the distant sheds.
The airship made a faultless descent. With plenty of hands available,she was guided into her lofty stable, while Meredith, declining aninvitation to stay to lunch at the mess, bade Cumberleigh good-day.
"And don't forget to-morrow," he added. "We are getting under way atnine."
At the landing-stage he encountered Morpeth.
"Been up?" inquired "Tough Geordie." "I mean to have a trip aloftbefore I finish here."
"Find things a bit dull?" asked Kenneth.
"A bit," admitted Morpeth. "Since the Grand Fleet pushed off there'snot much doing. A fellow gets sick of looking at a crowd of Hun shipsday after day and not knowing what's going on."
"Eh?" inquired Kenneth curiously.
"'Twouldn't have been my way with the brutes," explained Morpeth."Practically leaving them to their own devices. We made them comeout: why can't we put the stopper on them?"
"What's the matter with your foot?" asked Meredith, noticing that his"companion walked with a slight limp.
"For over four years," he said, "I never had a chance to lay a Fritzout. I don't call blowing a few dozen up the same thing. But I didto-day. I was up beyond Stenness, where you know the Huns are allowedthe run of the show. Hanged if I didn't bear a woman yelling likebilly-o. So I ran up in double quick time and found three Hunsrobbing her hen-roost. Took a fowl under her very nose, as cool asbrass. When they saw me they looked a bit scared, until they foundthat I had only one arm and there was no one else about. Three ofthem to a one-armed man is about their mark. They showed fight. Sodid I. I forgot my missing arm and imagined I was handling Dagoes inthe old Foul Anchor Line. Biffed one right in the jaw, staggeredanother on the solar plexus. The third hooked it."
"And your foot?"
"Travelled a little faster than the fellow who hooked it," repliedMorpeth grimly. "Three knots faster, I'll allow, but I forgot that Iwas wearing thin shoes and not fat, solid sea-boots. By the way Fritzyelled I reckon I hurt him more than he did me, and he won't gorobbing
hen-roosts again in a hurry."
"Have a trip to-morrow?" asked Meredith. "We're going out to look forthe Hun relief ship. Cumberleigh's coming."
"Suppose I can manage it," replied Morpeth. "I'll fix it up with myopposite number. Right-o. I'll be aboard by eight bells."