‘Yessir.’ Dancy’s voice was shaking with emotion or barely suppressed excitement. ‘But one man has been killed, sir. Twenty more wounded by splinters or burns.’
‘Very well. Make a signal to Demodocus and request they send the doc to us as soon as possible.’
He turned and looked through a quarter scuttle. The black ammunition ship looked even darker now against the shadows. But she had stayed to watch the fight, even though she would have been blown to hell if Benbecula’s tactics had failed.
There was a yell, ‘There she goes!’ And from the upper deck Lindsay heard more shouts and then wild cheering as the submarine began to slide under the surface. For just a few more seconds she hung with her raked stem pointing straight at the sky, holding the last tip of sunlight from the horizon, as if burning from within. Then she vanished.
The cheering faltered and died, and Lindsay saw some of the seamen lining the guardrails to watch in silence as a patch of oil continued to spread across the water, making an even greater darkness, like the shadow of some solitary cloud. ‘Slow ahead both engines.’
He let the glasses drop against his chest. He could almost feel what those men were thinking, their confusion and uncertainty. This was their first victory, probably one of the few occasions in which a ship built for peace had destroyed one created for war. Now it had happened, their emotions were lost in shock and disbelief.
Stannard said, ‘Light’s almost gone, sir.’ He watched Lindsay’s impassive face, waiting for a reaction.
Ritchie called, ‘Motor boat from the ammo ship approachin’, sir!’
‘Very well. Pass the word to Number One’s people to assist the doctor aboard.’
Lindsay walked slowly to the open door and stared at the shattered gyro repeater. There was a scorched black scar on the plating. The shell had been that near. Twenty feet and it would have exploded inside the wheelhouse. He thought of Stannard and Dancy, Ritchie and all the others who would have died with him.
Stannard joined him by the screen. ‘Stop engines, sir?’
Lindsay watched the dark shape of a power boat chugging towards the side. ‘Yes.’ He knew Stannard was still there. Waiting. He added. shortly, ‘Put a party of our people in the-boat and send it to pick up survivors. If there are any.’
He gripped the rail until the pain steadied him. He heard the telegraphs clang again, the sigh of water against the hull as the ship began to slow down. They had been made to steam past sinking ships. Men like themselves crying out and dying while they and other ships in convoy had obeyed the signal. Keep closed up. Don’t look back.
Now there was time, and for a while anyway they were safe from further attack. So they would obey the code. Play out the game. Except that this time the survivors would be German and not their own.
Goss came up to the bridge and said, ‘Fire’s out, sir.’ He sounded incredibly tired. Beaten. ‘The pumps are holding the intake in the hold but the marines’ messdeck has been destroyed. God, it looks like a pepperpot on the starboard side!’
Ritchie called from.the wheelhouse, ‘Ammo ship ‘as just called us on R/T, sir. That one shell the Jerry slung-at ‘er seems to ‘ave put ‘er shaft out of line. ‘Er chief says ‘e don’t reckon on bein’ able to get even steerage way now.’
Lindsay removed his cap and turned to face the cool evening breeze. After all that, they would have to leave the other ship. Abandon her.
Aloud he said, ‘If I’d known that before, I’d….’
Goss said, ‘You’d have let those ferries drown, sir?’ Lindsay looked at him, trying to control his aching mind. ‘I think I would.’
Goss watched the motor boat as it started back for the Benbecula’s tall side. ‘Not many of ‘em left anyway.’ He turned towards Lindsay. ‘The bastards!’
Ritchie asked quietly, ‘Any reply for the ammo ship, sir?’
Goss said, ‘Could we stand by her till morning, sir?’ ‘Yes.’ Lindsay replaced his cap. ‘It would be safer than
trying to transfer her crew in the dark.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of that.’ Goss sounded strangely calm. ‘We could take her in tow.’
Lindsay stared at him. ‘Do you mean that?’
‘I know we’re not rigged for it. The old Becky was built for better things.’ He spoke very quickly, as if he had made up his mind despite doubts and inner arguments. ‘But with some good hands I could work all night an’ lay out a towing cable. There’s not much aft to help secure it, but I thought-‘
‘The twelve-pounder gun?’
‘Yessir. It’ll probably never fire again, but it’d make a damn fine towing bollard.’
Lindsay turned his face away. ‘As far as I know it never has fired.’
There was so much to do. Plans to make and the damage to be inspected and contained. The wounded, too. And the men who had died.
But all he could think of now was Goss’s voice and his obvious conviction. It was even more than that. It was the first time since he had taken command that Goss had openly shared their mutual responsibility.
He nodded. ‘Then we’ll do it. At least we’ll have a damn good try.’ He beckoned to Stannard. ‘Tell Demodocus we will standby until first light. Explain what we are going toattempt.’ He checked him. ‘No, tell them what we are going to do!’
Goss shrugged his shoulders inside his heavy watchcoat. ‘There may be fresh escorts coming for us tomorrow. But I expect they’ll be sent from Freetown. Probably never find us anyway.’ He tugged down the peak of his cap and stared at the promenade deck. ‘Now I’ll go and see what C.P.O. bloody Archer really knows about seamanship!’
Lindsay stood on the gratings to watch the motor boat, riding on the swell against the ship’s rough plates.
‘Number One.’
‘Sir?’ Goss paused, his foot in mid-air.
‘Tell doc to make some arrangements for the German survivors. His sickbay must be getting rather crowded.’
‘I’ll lay it on.’ He waited, knowing Lindsay had something more to say.
‘And thanks, Number One.’
Goss swivelled around on the top of the ladder, squinting at Lindsay’s silhouette dark against the sky. Then without another word he clattered down the ladder and vanished into the gathering darkness.
Lindsay took out his pipe and tapped it against the damp steel. Goss had his pride. It was unshakable, like his faith in this old ship. Just for a few seconds he had almost overcome it. But not quite.
He sighed and walked into the wheelhouse. ‘Slow ahead both engines. Take the con, Pilot, until we can work out the drift. We don’t want to ram the poor old Demodocus after getting this far.’
Stannard smiled gravely and walked to the compass.
He had heard most that had been said on the scorched starboard wing. He knew what it had cost Goss to make his suggestion about towing. He could have remained silent, and Lindsay would have abandoned the other ship. God knows, he’s done enough for all of us, he thought, without that.
But Goss loved this ship more than life itself, and if he had to tow that bloody hulk with his bare hands to prove what his Becky could do, then Stannard had no doubt he would attempt that, too.
A telephone buzzed and the — bosun’s mate said, ‘Sickbay, sir. The doctor says there’s one Jerry lieutenant amongst the survivors. ‘E sends ‘is thanks for us pickin’ ‘im up.’ He waited. ‘Any reply, sir?’
Stannard looked at Lindsay. ‘Sir?’,
‘Just tell doc to do what he can for them.’ He walked towards the chart room. ‘But keep that bastard lieutenant off my bridge, understood?
As the seaman spoke rapidly into the telephone Lindsay added from the doorway, ‘What do they expect? A handshake? All pals again now that it’s over for them?’ His voice was quiet but in the sudden stillness it was like a whip. ‘Well, not for me, Pilot. But if you happen to bump into this polite little German lieutenant on your rounds, you may tell him from me that I only picked them up for one reason. And that was to see what they looked like.’