Alan Evans - Ship of Force

“Sir!” Lorimer’s voice was urgent. “Ship of some sort! Starboard bow!”

Smith swung around to stare out over the bow and saw her, about three miles away. A ship? It could be a ship, bows on but it was not Sparrow . There was no smoke and she was not big enough, smaller even than little Sparrow . His eyes searched the wheelhouse and then found the telescope in its clips above the wheel. He snatched it down and levelled it, searching again for the black object, the ship. It came up in the lens, the image blurred and dancing but he focused the telescope and steadied himself against the motion of the ship so the image came clear and full in the lens. He watched for several seconds then lowered the telescope. He said, “It’s a U-boat. Heading for Ostende.”

He stared at the U-boat, thinking, while the others watched him and looked at each other uneasily. He thought it was cruel luck. A little more time and they would have been beyond pursuit by the old torpedo-boat but the U-boat was on an opposite course to their own, running down on them. She was probably on the surface because she would make better speed. She might have sustained damage that prevented her submerging but that was a minimal possibility. The reason did not matter, anyway. The fact was she was running on the surface and making better speed than this old coaster ever could; she could make eleven or twelve knots if she had to. And she carried a four-inch gun forward, he could see, it and it was manned. That was enough to deal with the coaster and their two rifles. More than enough. One round from that gun landing in the deck cargo forward would make of the ship a furnace. If Sparrow was here or Marshall Marmont with her big guns, cranky engines or no — Cranky engines? His thoughts checked an instant then raced on.

Buckley said urgently, “Torpedo-boat’s made his mind up, sir. He’s turned an’ he’s coming after us an’ cracking on speed.”

Smith swung to stare out over the stern at the torpedo-boat, a white bone in her teeth now and showing a narrow silhouette as she surged after them. She had a gun forward too, a sixpounder it would be but she wouldn’t fire, not with the U-boat coming down into range. He turned back to the U-boat. The combined speeds of coaster and U-boat had halved the distance between them. With the telescope he could see the men moving about the gun and the heads and shoulders of the little group in the conning-tower. There was a spark of light then. Someone in the conning-tower was using glasses. Inspecting the coaster. Seeing her colours but also noting her course and wondering. There was no chance of passing with a wave of the hand.

He jammed the telescope back in its clips and bellowed, “All hands!”

Buckley took up the yell and they came running, all but McGraw in the engine-room and the sentry below in the saloon. Smith told them what he wanted.

Lorimer looked around, then at Smith. “I’m the lightest, sir.”

There was no doubt of that. Smith nodded and they scattered. To Eleanor Hurst he said, “I want you to wait aft of the wheelhouse, get down on the deck and under a tarpaulin or a blanket. Find a lifebelt and put it on or get hold of a lifebuoy.”

“What are you going to do?”

He told her, not looking at her, head turning from the distant torpedo-boat to the nearer, now very near, U-boat. He finished, “So be ready to jump. I don’t have to explain in detail?”

“No.” She hesitated, then looked up at him. “It — it doesn’t sound to have much of a chance.”

He thought that was being optimistic. He said simply, “It’s the only one we’ve got.”

“You could surrender. You would surrender if it wasn’t for me.”

He tore his eyes away from the U-boat, looked seriously at her and shook his head. “No,” he said. “No, I couldn’t. If you weren’t here I’d do the same.” And he thought he probably would. Hoped he would. And was surprised at himself and the determination in his voice.

But Buckley was running aft with a coil of rope. Smith pushed her away. “Do as I said.”

She watched him as he went to meet Buckley, watched him as she backed away, and only took her eyes from him to look briefly at the U-boat as she stepped behind the wheelhouse.

Smith swung himself up into the wheelhouse to stand by Finlay. A glance aft showed him that Buckley and his party were ready, Lorimer among them with the rope around him in a bowline on a bight. Smith faced forward, faced the U-boat drawing steadily down on them and ordered, “Hard aport!”

Finlay turned the wheel rapidly then gripped the spokes. “Helm’s hard aport, sir.”

The coaster’s bow swung away from the U-boat and kept on swinging. Helm hard over she turned around through sixteen points and kept on turning through a full circle. As she swung broadside to the U-boat once more Smith glanced aft and saw little Lorimer had gone, knew he now dangled at the end of the rope, armed with a boat-hook and stabbing at some pretended obstruction of the rudder. The men in the U-boat would see the pantomime as Smith could see them in the conning-tower now, leaning out of the wheelhouse as the coaster churned again around the circle at juddering full speed.

Finlay said, “Just like the auld Wildfire the other day.”

Smith said absently, “That’s right.”

He watched the U-boat as they swept around in the circle and was sure her speed was falling away. Her bow wave looked less; he reckoned she had reduced to less than eight knots as she kept her course towards the circling coaster. He looked back across the sea that separated them from the torpedo-boat. She was closer but still a fair distance off. He swung back again to stare at the U-boat. She was large in his vision now as they closed the third circle, the coaster still curving round to port, the U-boat still well off the port bow but the bow inching towards her.

Soon.

The bow was nearly — was pointing at the U-boat’s stern and edging up her length as the coaster still turned but now the U-boat was turning. He fumbled for the telescope and through it saw the men on the conning-tower, faces filling the lens. He saw one of them was laughing, the others grinning, close as if he could hear that laughter. She was turning to run alongside the coaster as the latter went down around the circle again. In seconds the U-boat would be running alongside them and less than a cable’s length away…

“Hard astarboard!”

The wheel spun again, stopped, and the coaster swung out of the circle, swung further.

“Meet her! — Steady!”

The coaster ran straight, the U-boat rushing up at them. They would pass astern of her. “Port five!” She was turning towards them, trying to edge aside. He could see their faces now without the telescope, see a mouth wide, bellowing. Her gun forward of the conning-tower flashed and slammed and the shell ripped over the wheelhouse.

Smith shouted aft, “Hold on!” He saw Lorimer dragged aboard by Buckley and shouted again, “ Hold on !” He looked back to the U-boat and braced himself. That last correction of course had been enough. They were charging down on the U boat. The gun’s crew leapt desperately around the weapon, her commander shouted, she still turned but now there was nothing he could do, or Smith, or anyone to avert the inevitable collision. The coaster rammed her right aft. Smith thought he was braced for it but he was torn loose and hurled into Finlay who clung to the wheel. Smith hung on to him and saw through watery eyes the bow crashing into and on to the U-boat, riding down on her, rolling her over. He could see the conning-tower but whoever was in it must have rolled to the deck. A man lay on the steeplytilted deck behind the gun, clinging on. Others were already in the sea.