"And Lieutenant-Commander Peace intended to fire a torpedo salvo on this bearing?"
"I dunno what the skipper was going to do, sir. All I know is that the noises were the same."
The prosecuting officer sighed. Bissett was certainly no help to him.
"Was Lieutenant-Commander Peace quite normal when he heard the transmissions again?"
"Yes, sir, quite normal. We were both pleased."
"Why were you pleased?"
Bissett looked at him contemptuously. "We'd found the enemy again, that's why."
The judicial captain leaned forward.
"You say ' enemy,' Bissett. What makes you say that?"
"It was the enemy all right, sir," muttered Bissett, neatly caught.
There was a short silence.
"You must think over this next question very carefully before answering," said the captain. The way he said it sent a thrill through the court. Bissett felt it, too. I hoped he wouldn't be stupid and try and cover up for me again.
"You say enemy. That means what you heard was — machinery?"
Bissett looked across at me, hopelessly. There was a long pause. Bissett shuffled and then looked up suddenly.
"Yes, sir, it was machinery."
The tension broke.
"But not H.E?"
"No, not H.E, sir."
The rear-admiral smiled frostily at my counsel.
Bissett went, with a last appealing glance at me.
The prosecuting officer fumbled with his papers for a moment, producing the necessary air of drama before the entrance of his key witness.
"Lieutenant John Garland," he called.
Someone at the door repeated it and I heard it again down the corridor. Since the moment I had "frozen "John on Trout's bridge that night, we might have been strangers.
John came in and made his way, smartly uniformed, to the witness box. He was sworn and looked aloofly round the court. His preliminary answers were dry, clipped, official. He looked as cool as he always was under fire.
Then came the questions about what had happened after Bissett had first heard NP I. I would have to cure myself of thinking of the noise as NP I, in case it should slip out, I thought grimly to myself.
The prosecutor consulted his notes.
"On orders from Lieutenant-Commander Peace, you altered course sharply, did you not, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir, I did," replied John.
"Why?"
"Because I was ordered to do so."
"That's no answer, Lieutenant — what was the reason for the sharp alteration — it was nearly right about face, wasn't it?"
"There was a suspicious noise on the hydrophones and Lieutenant-Commander Peace decided to follow it."
The prosecutor scanned his notes. "Did not Lieutenant-Commander Peace use these words: ' I'm sick of this bloody square-search and I'm trailing a whale with alimentary ailments?'"
John looked him in the eyes, lying magnificently.
"Those words were never used to me, sir."
"Are you sure, Lieutenant? Confirmation might be in Lieutenant-Commander Peace's favour when his mental state comes to be considered."
John wouldn't fall for that sort of blandishment. "They were never used to me," he repeated.
"I shall bring two other witnesses to swear they were used to you, Lieutenant Garland."
John shrugged slightly. The prosecutor saw he was wasting his time.
"Now some time afterwards Lieutenant-Commander Peace rushed through the control room in an agitated state and shouted for the hydrophones to be switched off immediately — correct?"
John smiled slightly. "Lieutenant-Commander Peace stepped, through the control room — I was unaware of an agitated state and ordered the hydrophones to be switched off."
"Why?"
John flickered a glance at the Commander-in-Chief. "In submarines an asdic transmission, or any untoward noise, can reveal one's presence to the enemy. The order was perfectly logical to me."
"The enemy, lieutenant — what enemy?"
"The sound at the other end of the hydrophones."
The prosecutor began to enjoy himself. "Both you and the chief hydrophone operator have used the term enemy without the slightest reason to suspect there was anything at all making a noise — not even a whale, with or without alimentary ailments."
The sally left John as cool as before.
"To me, sir, strange transmissions at sea, in war-time in a submarine, are the enemy. Until they're proved otherwise."
"A curious attitude," remarked the prosecuting officer. "In other words, fire first and ask questions afterwards?"
"Yes, sir," replied John.
"And then Lieutenant-Commander Peace ordered silent routine — why?"
"Normal precautions when in contact with the enemy," said John with a ghost of a smile.
"Logical, rational orders?"
"Yes."
"When a noise, which could not be identified by anyone on board, let alone Lieutenant-Commander Peace, was heard?"
"Logical and rational battle orders, sir."
"And you would consider equally logical and rational Lieutenant-Commander Peace's ordering you off the bridge and navigating himself, without reference to his senior officer?"
John remained silent. It was all he could do.
The prosecutor had me in the bag — and he knew it.
"I quote you," he said: "'What's the buzz Geoffrey — and brushing up on the old navigation all by yourself, too.'"
My defending officer was on his feet in a trice.
"If the prosecutor wishes to question his witness on the point, he is at liberty to do so. He cannot say 'I quote'."
"I withdraw that, then," replied the other, but to the naval minds unused to the niceties of the law, I could see that my case had been further damaged.
"Lieutenant-Commander Peace made another sharp alteration of course before steaming all night at high speed?"
"Yes, sir," said John miserably, and gave technical details of course, speed and so on.
The prosecutor tapped his pencil lightly on the table. "And when you approached a destination — still unknown to you — Lieutenant-Commander Peace ordered you off the bridge, as well as the watchmen?"
"That is correct, sir," said John.
"Why did he do that?"
"I do not know, sir."
"Were those 'logical, rational orders'?"
"I was surprised, I admit, but Lieutenant-Commander Peace has always had an individual touch. I remember"
"No reminiscences, please, Lieutenant. Stick to the facts."
"After which, from the bridge, Lieutenant-Commander Peace gave a series of course alterations at short intervals?"
Thinking of my navigation off the Skeleton Coast, that was a superb understatement.
"Yes, sir."
The prosecutor looked at him. "Please produce to the court your chart showing them."
This was the left hook to the jaw.
"There was no chart," he replied simply.
"No chart?" exclaimed the rear-admiral. "What do you mean, Lieutenant Garland?"
"I mean, sir, that Lieutenant-Commander Peace was navigating from a chart of his own, which he did not reveal to me. The log is here, though."
The old fighter behind the table eyed John severely.
"You have no idea where you were?"
"No, sir, not to this moment."
"Or what you were following?"
"No, sir."
"Or what the alterations of course were for?"
"No, sir."
"No idea at all?" he barked out.
"We must have been close to land, sir, because of the echo-sounder readings."
"And then Trout lay at the bottom of the sea at action stations for eight hours with torpedoes at the ready?"
The prosecutor flicked over several pages of notes to draw this further damaging conclusion.
"Yes, sir."
The log book was passed up to the main table. The rear-admiral peered at it intently for a moment and then threw it down with a snort of disgust. I probably would have too.
The judicial captain chipped in.