Geoffrey Jenkins - A bridge of Magpies

'Hydrophone operator reports three and four still running, sir..

'Donnenvetter! Hear that, Number One! A hit! Gut!' '

Hydrophone operator reports two torpedo explosions.. 'Got her-Number One! Two-right between the tits!' '

Breaking-up noises from AMC, sir. HE bearing. 'She' s coming straight for us, sir!'

'Down periscope. Engines full ahead together, port fifteen, steer two-nine-o. She's trying to ram us!'

'No, sir! She's running ashore!'

'We'll have to cut right scrims her bows-on the surface, too. God, for some bloody deep water! What's the depth now?' '

Eleven fathoms, shallowing, sir!'

'Sir, sir! Hydrophone operator here! New propeller noises. Outer channel. Green o-three-o. Closing fast. Warship!' '

Where the devil's he sprung from, Number One?'

'Coming into the main channel, sir, between Possession and the Kreuz shoals.'

'There's barely four to six fathoms there! He must be mad!'

'Or very brave.'

'Range, speed, operator?'

`Mile and a half, sir. Twenty-two knots,'

`Give me a bearing for the AMC now, too, I want to see what she's up to.'

`Close, sir. Maybe half a mile. Slowing all the time.' 'Sq would anyone be with two torpedoes in their guts.' 'She's still holding to the channel, sir. But coming at us.' Up periscope! Destroyer fires a starshell. No, she's a frigate, Number One. She's made it, too, through that short cut! Into the channel now;

'Orders, sir?'

'Stand by, stem torpedo tubes!'

'Achtung!'

`Set 'em both very shallow-twelve to fifteen feet. Bring the stern to bear, Number One,'

Aye aye-sit'

'Hydrophone operator to Captain: two groups of propeller noises merging. Confused echoes, sir.'

`Damn! The closer they get the tougher our problem becomes. Down periscope a shade! The AMC's blocking our shot at the frigate-Number One! I can't fire like this. Damn and blast! Hold it! Hold the attack!'

'They sound right on top of us, sir.'

'That's the AMC. I could spit on board. If she rolls over now, we've had it.'

'Hydrophone operator to Captain: Sir, warship's screws close! Dead astern!'

'Here she comes! I can't shoot like this! Sweet Jesus, give me a firing angle! Stand by, all! Hang on! Stand by for depth charge attack!'

'Sir

'Gott in Himmel! What hit us?

'You okay, sir?'

'All right, aJl right, Number One. Got chucked against the eyepiece, that's all. Eight bloody depth charges!'

'You're bleeding, sir..

It's nothing, Number One. He'll come back! Damage reports-quick!'

'All compartments report damage, sir. But still in action.'

'Give me a look! She's coming about! This is our chance!

Stand by! Stand by! Continuous reading! Flood tubes, open doors!'

'Flood tubes, open doors it is, sir!'

'Bring her round, bring her round, Number One!' '

Fire both stern tubes!'

'Fire!'

'Torpedoes running, sir!'

°Time, coxswain?'

'Zero minus three, four, five, six, seven, eight… nineteen, twenty…•

'Jesus! Her magazine's gone up! That's knocked the bugger off, all right!'

'Two right up her jack, sir!'

'Christ! For Chrissake, Number One, what hit us then?' '

Dunno, sir. Right on top of the conning-tower. Must be something big blown off the frigate.'

'Big as a bloody locomotive! Maybe one of her own gun turrets! Damage party! Here! At the double!'

'It's slipping clear whatever it is, sir-listen, scraping the casing – there! It's gone!'

'Periscope?

'Out of action, sir.'

'Stand by, the bridge patty!'

'It's no good, sir. The hatch is jammed fast. Can't move it!' '

We must get the hell out of here-quick, Number One!

They'll have seen that explosion fifty miles away! Damage reports – schnell! Is she making water?'

'All valves on the outer hull reported loose in their Beatings, sir. Main ballast pumps out of action. Angle gauge wrecked. Telemotor and gyro compass systems out of action.'

'Those depth charges couldn't have come closer! Engineroom, what does the Chief say?'

'Plenty, sir. Starboard diesel ripped off its bed, camshaft snapped..

'The port engine-is it okay?'

'Okay. Electrics okay too.'

'Gut! Group up, half ahead, together. Steer three-four-o.' '

She's badly down by the head, sir. With the gauge gone, we'll have to trip her by guesswork. The change-over valve's jammed open. I guess it's smashed too.'

'We can't see and we can just about move, Number One. But we've got to get out of here: this channel's a death-trap. Silence, that man!'

'It's the Jap again, sir. He's protesting. Says we're ratting 55 on the mission. The important guy got left behind when the dinghy chased after us.'

'Tell him to save his breath and the oxygen! He can't get out of this boat now -no one can. Where's the AMC?'

'Must have fetched up ashore by now, sir. That magazine blast killed the sound of everything else.'

'Poor bastards! It might have been us,'

'It might still be, sir.'

'Keep your voice down, Number One 1 I want an immediate signal sent to BdU-is the radio still working?'

'Yes, sir. About the only thing left that is.'

'Say, "U-160 to BdU. Attacked by frigate. Flower class, which blew up following two hits ex stern tubes. U-160's main ballast pumps damaged, unable to dive. Jettisoned eight mines. Proceeding seawards partly submerged. Will signaJ position and damage assessment 06.00 hours dawn tomorrow." Well, Number One, what is it?'

'Sir! Radio operator reports ship-to-shore voice radio has been transmitting to Swakop throughout the attack! In the panic somebody forgot to switch it off!'

'I'll have his guts for that! What a giveaway! No wonder the frigate came right at us-he must have heard every word inside the sub and homed in on our signaJs! Switch the damn thing off – now!'

A Bridge Of Magpies

As if on cue, the recording cut out.

I opened my eyes. The girl was kneeling on the rock platform above, holding my rifle. She handled it as though it might bite her. Her hands were all in the wrong places and the muzzle pointed at the sky: at least it wasn't trained on me. Our eyes met across the blue-black line of the barrel. She eyed me with the intense fascinated compulsion you reserve for a dangerous snake emerging from its hole, when you don't know whether it or the weapon in your hand is worse.

I took all this in as I got to my feet. 'The iron gun in the iron hand,' I mocked.

She seemed to find it hard to speak properly because her lip muscles were out of control.

'What do you want? Why are you spying on me?' '

Not spying; just investigating.'

Her face closed up in blankness. 'I didn't say that. I…' '

Yes?'

'I spotted you in the compass mirror, peering over the edge of the rock-' she jerked out. 'Your hair was blowing all over the place..'

'I must remember to have my barber fix it before I set out on my next spying mission:

'I'm serious,'

The barrier of tension between us was as real as an elec. tric fence. I felt it was time I got my gun out of those inexpert hands. It was loaded, but the safety catch was on. I was quite sure she didn't mean to threaten me with it: she'd only grabbed it because it was there. Anyway-the time for finesse was past.

I vaulted up alongside her and took the weapon away. She didn't resist. I think she was glad to be rid of it.

'It's always better to be the shooter than the shootee,' I quipped.

'Who are you?'

°That can wait. The question is, who are you? What sort of sound-track is that you've got there – radio? Television?'

She stared back, uncomprehending. She was operating on quite another wavelength from me. She blinked rapidly. Her right eye seemed to have some grains of sand in one corner and there were traces of face-powder stuck in her polo-neck sweater. After her hair her eyes were her best feature, seagreen with flecks of light in them. She seemed younger than I. about thirty.