A fo’c’sle party, wearing black oilskins that flopped like gigantic bats in the wind, appeared in the destroyer’s bows and Hamilton stared astern through the driving rain and flying spray as he passed steering instructions to the helmsman in the control room below. Aritsu was standing on the starboard wing of the destroyer’s bridge with an old fashioned megaphone in his hand. He seemed too intent on the submarine’s careful approach to notice the almost imperceptible improvement in the weather conditions.
A line snaked down from Suma’s bows, struck the fantail of the submarine with a loud clatter, and slid back into the sea before Morgan’s men could grab it and haul it aboard.
‘Try again, Suma.’
This time, the line landed close to the deck party huddled in the stern of the submarine and two of the men seized it and began dragging it back towards the conning tower. Miller and Davidson came to their assistance, while Morgan encouraged them to haul away like a regatta tug-of-war team. The after deck was almost continuously under water as the sea pounded against the ballast tanks and threw white swirling foam over the hull. A heavy six-inch twin towing wire was attached to the line and Morgan’s men heaved and swore as they drew it around the front of the conning tower and then began dragging it back towards the small auxiliary capstan above the engine room hatch.
A large wave smashed against the windward beam of the submarine and Rapier rolled to starboard. Luckily, the deck party managed to hang on to their life lines as they vanished beneath a roaring wall of ice-cold water. And, as Rapier swung back again, they emerged from behind the conning tower and quickly shackled the hawser in position.
‘All secure, sir!’
Hamilton pushed the microphone to his mouth. ‘Ahoy, Sumal Stand by to take the strain. Make five knots when I tell you◦– and let go your anchors!’
‘Aritsu won’t be very popular if he loses his anchors,’ Ottershaw grinned at Hamilton.
‘Probably not– but I daresay he’d rather lose his anchors than his ship.’
Holding the microphone against his chest to shield it from the rain, Hamilton moved to the voice pipe. ‘Slow ahead together, Number One.’
‘Slow ahead aye aye, sir.’
He watched the towing wire lift slowly out of the water as Rapier began to creep forward.
‘Suma.’
‘Standing by, Rapier.’
‘Make five knots. Let go anchors. Port your helm!’ Hamilton waited for the acknowledgements from the destroyer’s bridge and then bent over the voice pipe. ‘Steer six degrees to port, Number One. Increase to half-speed.’
Ottershaw’s mouth went dry as he watched the hawser strain taut. This was the critical moment of the entire exercise. Either the towline would part under the terrible stress to which it was being subjected◦– or Hamilton’s delicate equalization of speed would ease the strain sufficiently to balance the two opposing forces. Once the line was taut and both ships were moving at identical speeds the worst of the danger would have passed.
‘I think we’re going to make it, Nick.’
Hamilton said nothing. Leaning his arms on the after bridge screen he watched the towing hawser tighten with the concentration of a gambler playing his last chip.
‘Well done, Rapier.’
Aritsu’s voice sounded strangely hollow through the megaphone and it was only just audible above the shriek of the winds. But Hamilton heard it all right and he waved his arm in acknowledgement. The darkness and the driving rain hid the grin on his face.
The violent rolling action of the submarine suddenly eased, as Rapier’s bows came into wind. He bent over the voice pipe again. ‘Midship’s helm, Number One.’ He pressed the switch of the loudhailer. ‘Ahoy, Sumal Helm amidships!’
A faint glimmer of light on the south-eastern horizon drew Ottershaw’s attention and he pointed it out to Rapier’s skipper. Hamilton glanced at it and nodded disinterestedly.
‘We only just had time for the big rescue act,’ he commented enigmatically.
‘Odd sort of typhoon,’ Ottershaw said doubtfully. ‘If anyone asked me, I’d say the epicenter passed over a good ten minutes ago.’
‘What typhoon?’ Hamilton enquired innocently.
‘The one you warned Aritsu about.’
Hamilton turned away from the bridge screen, stared towards the growing patch of blue sky over the bows, and smiled.
‘I must have made a mistake, Harry,’ he admitted cheerfully. ‘Just a rather nasty tropical squall I’d reckon.’
‘But you told Aritsu there’d been a weather warning of a typhoon,’ Ottershaw persisted. ‘He would never have agreed to a tow if he’d known it was only a squall.’
‘Don’t blame me,’ Hamilton said with a shrug. ‘It was your damned sub, Peters, who told me it was a typhoon.’ He contrived to look innocent. ‘I’ve only just arrived in Hong Kong◦– how on earth was I supposed to know?’
Ottershaw was not so easily fooled. Although the sea was subsiding, the waves were still breaking angrily, and he could feel Suma pitching unpleasantly astern of the submarine.
‘You bloody well knew!’ he said accusingly.
‘I didn’t when young Peters first told me. But I was aware that the typhoon season was over. So when I went back to Rapier I put a radio call through to the FMO in Hong Kong to double check.’ Hamilton paused and smiled at the memory. ‘Hawkins confirmed the approach of a rather deep low, but he was a trifle sarcastic about typhoons in November. Nevertheless, it struck me as a good idea. All I had to do was to sell it to Aritsu. After that it was easy.’
‘So it was all a bloody great bluff,’ Ottershaw said bluntly.
‘I suppose you could say it was,’ Hamilton agreed equably. ‘But I had to persuade Aritsu to let me take Suma in tow. It was the only thing I could do to make him lose face◦– and the fact that he accepted the assistance of a British warship when his own vessel was in no real danger merely makes it all the worse. I don’t think Tokyo is going to be very pleased with him after this little affair.’ Ottershaw digested the explanation in silence for a few moments. Then he grinned.
‘Next time we meet in the club, Nick, just promise me one thing. Promise me you’ll never invite me to join you in a poker game.’
SIX
The two capital ships swinging gently at their moorings in the center of the anchorage dominated the dockyard, and dwarfed the slim destroyers grouped astern. They were the largest warships Singapore had seen for more than a decade and their massive presence fulfilled the solemn promise of successive British Governments, that the Royal Navy would throw its protective shield around the Malayan Peninsula if war ever threatened to engulf the Far East.
When the news first reached the city on 2 December, excited crowds had thronged the shore to witness their arrival. Even now, five days later, these great grey symbols of Britain’s sea power continued to attract attention.
Captain Gerald Edwards, Deputy Assistant Chief of Staff to Vice Admiral Sir Geoffrey Layton, C-in-C China, stared down at the two ships from the window of his office overlooking the harbor and considered the future. The arrival of Admiral Phillip’s Force Z was going to put him out of a job. The admiral had already been appointed to succeed Layton as C-in-C Eastern Fleet and, naturally, he would put his own men into the key staff positions. And in a few day’s time Edwards would be returning home. He wondered whether he would have time to see his younger brother, who was serving as a junior gunnery lieutenant on Repulse, but decided it was an unlikely possibility. As soon as Phillips returned from his conference with the US Fleet commander in Manilla, it seemed probable that the battle cruiser and her consort, Prince of Wales, would sail immediately. Edwards had already seen a copy of Churchill’s telegram ordering Phillips to sea to ‘disconcert the Japanese and at the same time increase the security of the force’ and he knew that the new C-in-C would be anxious to carry out the Prime Minister’s command.