Douglas Reeman - In Danger's Hour

Ransome nodded. The first day in Devonport dockyard and it had been a full one. People to see, at least five tours around the ship with various dockyard officials and other experts, not least the business of getting the major part of the ship’s company away on leave again. It was only months since their last leave, but it felt like years.

He replied, ‘They say at least three weeks, sir. There’s apparently quite a queue for repairs or boiler-cleaning.’ He recalled Hargrave’s face when he had left the ship. Hargrave was changed in some way, perhaps more than he had realised. He had seemed uncertain, and could almost have been reluctant to leave Rob Roy now that the chance had arrived. Ransome wondered if it was because of his father and the lovely second officer named Ross Pearce. When they all got back there would be more changes waiting for them.

Ransome said, ‘I know I have to stay aboard, sir, but I could let Lieutenant Sherwood go. One officer for occasional duty is enough for me, and I do have Ranger’s Number One at my beck and call.’

Bliss examined his fingers. ‘I sent word for Sherwood to stay.’

He looked up and flashed a white smile, like an impish schoolboy, but for his eyes. ‘For a day or so. After that, well, it’II be up to you, of course.’

Ransome glanced at the list of names on his desk, a copy of the one he had already sent on board Bedworth for Bliss’s considera tion. He guessed he had not had time to read it yet. Bliss probably wanted Sherwood to transfer to another ship. Experienced watchkeeping officers were like gold, RNVR, or not. Once again Bliss proved him wrong.

i read your summary of people for promotion and so forth. To some 1 can agree, others will have to wait.’ He saw Ransome’s expression and added, ‘You can take it higher of course, but—’

Ransome said, ‘There will be several overdue for advancement this time, sir.’

Bliss went off at a tangent. ‘I see that you’ve started papers for Ordinary Seaman Boyes. I gathered he was washed out the last time?’

‘He was not properly examined, sir.’

Bliss grinned, in your opinion. We must trust these training chaps. Surely they know their stuff.’

Ransome glanced down the list, seeing their faces, knowing them like his own family. He said flatly, ‘I have put Boyes down for a Mention in Despatches.’

Bliss answered, ‘Saw that too. Good thinking. No promotion board could very well turn down an interview with a chap who has a M-i-D, eh? He threw back his head and laughed. ‘God, you are a crafty one, Ian. I’d have done the same myself!’

He glanced around the cabin and nodded, suddenly grave. ‘Stout little ships. If I couldn’t drive a destroyer I’d have one of these old ladies any day.’

‘About Lieutenant Sherwood, sir—’

There was a tap at the door and Bliss said casually, ‘Hope you didn’t mind, Ian. A bit high-handed maybe, but I sent my snotty to dig him out when I came aboard.’

Their eyes met. A challenge. A threat.

Ransome called, ‘Enter!’

Bliss said, ‘Good show. I can explain to both of you together. It’ll save time, eh?’

Sherwood glanced round for a chair and then leaned against the closed door. It was as close to showing his irritation at being summoned by Bliss as he could demonstrate.

Bliss regarded him impassively. ‘I know you, Sherwood. Your record, and it’s damn good.’

Sherwood sounded surprised. ‘Thank you, sir.’

Ransome watched the pair of them. Sherwood was beginning to lose his Mediterranean tan already. It was strange that he always looked so pale, his skin, his hair, his lashes. Even his eyes, which were watching Bliss. Like a cat’s, Ransome thought, deciding whether to purr or lash out with its claws.

‘You’ve done some useful work in the flotilla too.’ He wagged a finger. ‘There isn’t much I don’t know.’

The guard came down. ‘Really, sir.’

Bliss turned to Ransome. ‘Fact is, Ian, we’ve found a new german magnetic mine.’ He said to Sherwood without facing him, ‘I believe you had a go at one last winter?’

Ransome saw the lieutenant nod, his defences falling slightly is his intelligent features recorded some memory – the mine, or another before it.

Bliss said, ‘They found it in the Thames Estuary while we were in Sicily. Commander Foulerton said it was a more sophisticated version.’ Then he did turn to Sherwood again. ‘You know the name, I see?’

Sherwood nodded, a lock of fair hair dropping over his forehead. ‘He was at HMS Vernon when I was there, sir. Taught me everything I know. A fine man.’

Bliss smiled gently. ‘A regular officer too.’ The smile vanished. ‘Well, now we’ve found another one of the bastards, near portland Bill, provided it hasn’t blown up yet. It’s being kept a close secret – we mustn’t let Jerry know we’ve got one.’ He glanced briefly at Ransome. ‘Not yet anyway.’

In those flashing seconds Ransome saw Sherwood’s face change again. As if he had seen a ghost.

Ransome said quickly, ‘I don’t see why we should—’

Bliss snapped, ‘I can’t send Ranger’s R.M.S.O., he’s not got Sherwood’s experience. Might just as well trundle some heavy-footed soldiery along!’

Sherwood asked quietly, ‘You’re asking me to go?’

Ransome interrupted, ‘What about this Commander Fouler ton – what does he suggest, sir?’

‘Well, there you have it, Ian.’ Bliss looked at Sherwood, his eyes hard. ‘He was killed while he was handling the one in the Thames Estuary. The only information is what he passed over his telephone to an assistant. They had to keep his death hush-hush.’

Sherwood said softly, ‘Christ!’

Bliss added, ‘I wouldn’t ask, but—’

Ransome picked up his pipe. Portland was one of the most important naval harbours on the South coast, about seventy miles from here.

He persisted, ‘But he’d being doing other duties on board, sir. He’ll need an assistant—’

Bliss didn’t shift his gaze from Sherwood. ‘I’ll get somebody. I can’t order you to go, Sherwood.’

Sherwood turned his cap over in his hands. He replied, ‘You just did.’ His eyes glittered in the deckhead light.

He looked at Ransome. ‘I’ll get my gear, sir. I don’t want to take anyone I don’t know. If Leading Writer Wakeford agrees I’d like him, please.’

Bliss stared. ‘That’s your writer, Ian – what does he know about it?’

Ransome was equally baffled but was determined not to show it. There was something so compelling and yet so sad about Sherwood that he knew there was no room for doubt.

Sherwood said calmly, ‘Leading Writer Wakeford was an excellent physics and chemistry master in a good public school, or didn’t you know that, sir?’ He did not hide his contempt. ‘But they said he was too old for a commission. What is he? Thirty-two? Not too old to get his arse blown off in bloody minesweepers, though!’

Bliss ignored the outburst, or perhaps he was so relieved that Sherwood had agreed to go that he had not noticed it.

Ransome nodded. ‘Send for him.’ He pictured the quiet leading writer who had acted as his helper, secretary, and shadow all the while he had been in Rob Roy. A withdrawn, gentle man.

Sherwood said, ‘I’ve often discussed mines with him. He’s got very retentive mind.’ He gave a bittersweet smile but the navy doesn’t seem to care too much about such trifles—’ Ransome nodded to him— ‘I’ll see you before you leave.’

As the door closed he said, ‘I must disagree with you on this, sir.’

‘Why? Because you know him, because you need him here?’ He watched him curiously – or maybe its because you think he’s over the top already, too far gone to cope. His tone hardened. ‘I can’t lament over’ personalities Ian not any more. God Almighty, I’ve seen enough youngsters get the chop – so have you. It’s the bloody war, it doesn’t help to look over your shoulder or to care too much I know!! I’ve been there and back a hundred times. He’s probably the best man for the job, and right now he’s the only man we’ve got available.’ He leaned forward to emphasise each point. ‘The met people have promised good weather, or the best you expect in winter. If the wind drops still further, Sherwood will have a fair chance but we must know! The Allies will attempt to invade France next year, you can bet on it. With the Italian campaign slowing down to a crawl, they’ll have to launch the landings whether they want to or not.