Geoffrey Jenkins - A bridge of Magpies

– Gaok wasn't quite in position yet hut was coming up towards me, searching the water with her spotlight. I yanked myself up on to the streaming deck.

'Full astern!' I yelled. 'Back! Keep away! Don't come here! There's a half-fired lorpedo sticking out of a tube!'

Gaok went astern but it wasn't a panic manoeuvre. In a couple of minutes Kaptein Denny had the cutter fast in her proper position. I threw round a stanchion a hitch of the line which had been tied to my waist, and stumbled and sloshed my way to her. The plaling was wet and cold and 202 slippery under my feet. It wasn't only the cold which made me shake when I jumped aboard Gaok.

'What next? The whole bloody sub's loaded-above and under water! It could be one of the old contact-type torpedoes, driven by compressed air, which the U-boat aces liked for night attacks.'

Jutta said in a small voice, as if trying to quiet her own fears, It's more likely to be an electric or acoustic torpedo. Its batteries must be stoned dead. It's probably harmless.'

'I'm not particularly sold on the idea of making a practical test to see what sort of torpedo it is-' I replied. 'Just keep Gaok from bumping it, will you, Kaptein Denny?'

'You're going back then, Struan?' asked Jutla.

'Of course. There's a job to finish.

'I'll get you some brandy.'

It tasted good and I went and stood knee-deep in the sea-getting the hawsers fixed. Most of the time I worked by feel in the cold water. Several times big waves came and then I hung on waist-deep to the rail. If the waves were doing this to me, what were they doing against the fangs of Penguins Turning? That thought made me finish the job about as quickly as if all the hardware lying around was primed and ready to go off. I could hear the skietrots coming closer all the time. What worded me too was the easier give of the sea under the U-boat. It meant the upwell cell was changing. My aching arms were quivering so with the strain that I slopped the brandy when I got back to Gaok's wheelhouse. Fine!' Denny exclaimed. 'Nice work.'

'Let's keep the medals in deep freeze until we get clear of Penguins Turning. I haven't a clue which way we're heading?

'We're making a northing with some east in it.'

'I'll take your word for it; but meanwhile a couple of things won't have escaped your notice. The sea's easier; the wind's going.' I pointed to the towel I'd been rubbing my shoulders with. 'See all this dirt? It's from the fog. The fog brings down the dirt and the dirt brings down the fog. Not to put too fine a point on it, it's starting to clear. Our protective curtain's disintegrating.'

'That means Sang A,' said Jutta.

'Plus radar. Plus twenty pairs of kamikaze eyes itching for a glimpse of two fishing cutters.'

'Depends where she is,' replied Kaptein Denny.

'Maybe she's searching for us out to sea. Maybe not. You'd also have noted, if you'd been down under the hull, that the silver fire is going – fast. That means the salinity will change. Less dense; less lift. Less for U-160. Less U-boat above water?

'You're overstating the dangers. We've got half the night still ahead of us..

'Look!'

It was the skietrots. Its white chest with the breakers creaming over it was the giveaway because the main black part of it blended with the night. But you could hear it all right.

'That rope cradle okay?'

'Aye,' I told him.

'Watch your moment. We'll put both boats full ahead on 11-160's next swing. That plus the current should take her clear.'

'If this wreck picks up her skirts and flies it'll be the only time a skirt won't mean sex to me.'

I hurried across U-160's deck to lchabo, opened her diesel to full bore and waited to throw in the clutch. U-160 was pushing the dying wind, but not the current. Her underwater surface-all eleven hundred tons of it-was solidly in its grip and being swept along.

The three vessels-tied together, came round in a wide, lazy, swinging circle. When U-160's nose pointed off-centre from the white target of Penguins Turning, Kaptein Denny shouted, 'Full ahead! Well manage it! Give her everything!'

I thought so, too – at first. Another point in our favour was that Penguins Turning was slightly farther away than I'd calculated, because the visibility was lengthening all the time and I'd judged the distance by previous cut-off standards. The cables took the strain of the thrusting boats and U-160 began to forge ahead the way we wanted. Two knots. Three. Four. I thought we'd make it. Then it was like steering a lead coffin with a poltergeist inside. The current took charge and dragged the U-boat and the two cutters round as if there weren't diesel-powered sheepdogs hanging on to both Its flanks. She span -slowly, deliberately, menacingly-in her own way and in her own time. J gave Ichabo full starboard helm 204 and I was sure Kaptein Denny was doing the same. But it was impossible to apply a correction factor.

With an extra long aim I could have touched Penguin Turning.

`Let her have her head, for the love of God!' I shouted. '

Let her go! Let her go!'

U-160 had managed it so many times on her own in the past, maybe she'd manage it this time without our fouling up whatever delicate underwater forces were in play. U-160 managed it. Just.

At her nearest point, I wasn't sure which was the end of her bow with the white water breaking, or which was Penguins Turning with white water breaking. An eddy seemed to take over at the last moment. Then suddenly we were past and swirling, churning, spinning in the whirlpool in the lee of the skietrots, among the races and overfalls and blinders and spray.

We left U-160 to make her own way. There wasn't anything else we could do. She-and we-went on swinging and turning like that: on and on-round and round. After the first few turns I began to get accustomed to the movement and pulled myself together enough to make an estimate whether we were making progress over the ground or staying in one place while we swung. We were progressing. But the drift was so imperceptible that it took fully half an hour to win clear of the merry-go-round and begin to follow roughly the northward line of the coast towards Possession.

It didn't need a crystaJ ball to see that the upwell cell was breaking up. The gale was down to a mere stiff breeze and was changing direction. It wasn't hot any more because it was veering away from the desert seawards. By virtue of the fog's condensation, the muck was coming out of the sky like muddy rain and forming a coating over everything – decks-rigging, railings and U-160's conning-tower, which appeared rustier still because of it. The silver had completely disappeared from the sea.

I crossed to Gaok as soon as we had settled on a steadier course.

'We've something like four hours until sunrise,' I said to Kaptein Denny and Jutta. 'We're the nut in the cracker's jaws. One jaw is time, the other is Sang A. If we're going to achieve anything with the cutting equipment, now's the time.'

'We'll start in right away,' Denny replied.

It wasn't as simple as that. In the first place a thick skin of barnacles overlay the steel plating of the hatch on U-160's bridge. At first try Kaptein Denny used the cutting blowpipe on them, but the result was a loathsome fish-fry smell which choked us, in the confined space, without getting at the metal. So we set about smashing off the shellfish with hammers. Jutta also took a hand, but it was a reluctant, silent hand. We had to use the spotlight to see what we were doing. To me it had assumed the proportion of the biggest advertising sign in Piccadilly Circus.

Finally we cleared a patch and Kaptein Denny slipped on his anti-glare visor and attacked the steel itself with the torch. Without eyeshields, Jutta and I were forced to turn our backs on the brilliant blue-white flame but we couldn't miss the showers of sparks which went everywhere. If Sang A was around and hadn't spotted that Brock's Benefit, all I could think was that every man jack of them was on another trip. The length of time Kaptein Denny went on made me wonder whether his enthusiasm had taken him right down into 206 the U-boat's control-room.