Andrew Wareham - End to Illusion

“Enemy retiring, sir.”

A normal brief and inconclusive engagement, the sort that was reported every week. A few men dead, two or three ships to the dockyard. Nothing achieved.

The four ships came to anchor in Dunkerque outer harbour, were ordered to remain ready for sea.

“Back to Harwich for us, it seems, Mr Eldridge. What’s on the defects list?”

“Not much, sir. Minor engineroom repairs, none urgent. Replacement of your cabin door, the hinge having buckled. A new searchlight, ours being old and still mounted above the bridge, blinding the officer of the watch when it is used. Useful but minor.”

“I could do with the cabin door being done, Eldridge. I have to kick it to get out in the morning and leave it wedged open in the day. It’s new – why is it a problem?”

“Steel, sir. Fireproof and can act as a bulkhead for flood control. Highly sensible but they mounted it on the same hinges the previous wooden door had used, despite weighing three times as much. Applied stupidity in the yard, sir.”

“Unusual, they are normally more sensible than that.”

“Probably missed on their final check before leaving, sir. We were in a hurry, you will remember.”

“Only too well! No word about that drunken idiot Gibson, I suppose?”

“Nothing, sir. He will die unrecorded at Dartmoor – they definitely sent him there. No longer the Navy’s problem, nothing to be heard of him ever again.”

It was a simple way of brushing the Navy’s failure under the carpet, assuming that the man’s collapse into drunkenness was the service’s responsibility.

“Leaves a bad taste, Number One. No matter!”

“Leader signalling, sir, for the section with a separate for us.”

Eldridge read the flags as they were hoisted.

“’Depart for Harwich as of eight bells, this watch. Lieutenant – alphabetical – Eldridge, Sheldrake, to Starling in command, immediate effect.’”

“Congratulations. Run! Coxswain, starboard cutter!”

Eldridge had less than two hours to get to Starling and assume command and ready her for sea. She had taken damage and lost her captain and probably others of the crew. It was not an easy introduction to his first command. At least he had almost nothing to pack from his cabin, the bulk of his effects held in the depot ship.

“Mr Parrett! Take over as First Lieutenant, temporarily, pending decision at Harwich. Mr Higgins, make ready to leave harbour. I shall take Mr Eldridge’s watch.”

“No longer junior ship in the half-section, sir. You are senior to Mr Eldridge.”

“Well thought, Polly. We shall go out third in line.”

All four ships were ordered into the dockyard at Harwich and two week’s leave was announced. The Commodore, Tyrwhitt, explained why when he visited Sheldrake before she entered the yard.

“Busy summer ahead of us, it is expected, Sturton. Every reason to believe there will be an increase in submarine activity and we know that there are more German destroyers ordered to Belgium. I hope to get rid of the H Class boats – too small for our work now. Won’t happen immediately. When it does the old boats will be sent out to the Med, more for them to do there in the traditional way. You will not be going, Sturton. I have provisional agreement that you will get one of the larger boats coming in. Still as a lieutenant, unless I can work the oracle! You won’t have much time for leave in the next few months so make the best of it now. What do you want as a replacement for Eldridge?”

A lieutenant would almost certainly be senior to Polly and would become the new First. If he asked for a sublieutenant then Polly would get the promotion, at a very early age and with limited experience.

“A sub, if you please, sir. Parrett is capable of becoming Premier and should be brought along if possible. Higgins needs another six months at least as a mid. He showed well in action, emptied his Lewises into the bridge of the Hun, wiped out his command, so he has some use to him.”

“A Mention?”

“Not for simply manning his gun efficiently, sir. That’s what I expected of him.”

“Your decision. A decoration for the lad would be popular… Don’t say it, Sturton! The look on your face will suffice. I will have a sub across to you within the hour. Won’t be from the boats, though. Have to come from one of the cruisers. Easy to train him up, no doubt. Well done in your little action, by the way, sort of thing I have come to expect from you!”

Tyrwhitt took his boat and Simon called for Polly.

“New sublieutenant due to replace Eldridge, Mr Parrett. You step up as First. You know ‘what’ to do. Any doubts about ‘how’, speak to me on the quiet. Take us across to the dockyard as soon as the signal arrives. We go to leave as quickly as we can after getting into the yard.”

“I don’t think I can reasonably take two weeks, sir. Too much to do and get my head round. Seven days and I shall be back. Will you come to the Hall again, sir?”

“If I may, Polly, for the week you are there. I must send a telegram to my uncle, informing him that I shall be with him next week. He will probably want to arrange something for me now that he has stepped up in the world and I am officially next in line for the title.”

“Fixing you up with a properly blue-blooded wife, sir?”

Polly was obviously interested from his sister’s point of view.

“No. I can see to that for myself, Polly, and not yet in any case.”

Polly worked Sheldrake into the yard and tied her off at the berth indicated, all highly competently and not too concerned about manoeuvring the ship in tight quarters.

“It’s not the ship-handling, sir. Keeping on top of the paperwork will be hard labour.”

“Necessary, however, Polly. Stores especially – can’t trust the quartermasters an inch! Double-check everything with them. Is that our young man making a slightly belated appearance, Polly? I wondered where he was, and why.”

A dapper young gentleman trotted up the brow and made his salutes; he was followed by a rating carrying a pair of large suitcases.

“Sublieutenant Michael Manvers-Porteous, sir. Reporting to join.”

“So you are. Just a fraction delayed, perhaps?”

“Well, sir, it seemed more sensible to walk across to the yard than to take a boat out to Sheldrake’s temporary mooring. Easier, one might say.”

Simon nodded, making no further comment but wondering whether the young man might not be idle.

“Where are you from, Manvers-Porteous?”

“Fearless, sir. Light cruiser. I was two years a mid aboard her, was made at the end of last year.”

“Good enough. How are you off for leave?”

“Had three weeks in January, sir. None due for the while.”

“Convenient. I am off for a fortnight and Mr Parrett will take one week. You will be in charge of the ship in our absence. Contact addresses in my cabin, of course. Make yourself known to Mr Higgins, the mid. Mr Parrett will discuss watches with you now.”

“Very good, sir. Mess fees as well, I expect. Old Fearless was a tight one for fees, sir. Kept a very formal wardroom.”

“I suspect you will find Sheldrake a little different, Sub.”

An hour and the ship was empty, every hand who had a place to go to at the station and waiting for trains to Peterborough and thence to the whole of the North Country or west to London and the main lines to southern England and Wales. A few remained and would stay in the dockside barracks, wandering out to the pubs at lunchtime and being carried back late at night. There was nothing else for a single matelot to do.

They were met at the station at Ipswich, Alice sat unaccompanied on the bench of the trap.

“All of the younger men are off to war now. It’s up to the girls to take their place while the older men who remain do the heavier work. I can drive myself and you in the trap.”