Hollow Sea (34 page)

'You've a hell of a lot to say, man,' growled Hump. He made to push Rochdale from the soldier. But he could not move him. He had now put both feet astride the soldier's. None of my business! But Christ! If they put him aft with that other yelling kid, that'll be two quite winnick. He looked down at the soldier who now slept deeply, his breast heaved. It reminded Rochdale of a sleeping child.

'Sloane! Bring Mr. Walters here.'

'Will you go for'ard to hell out of this? Who the devil d'you think you are?'

'My name's Higginbottom, if you want to know, and many a time when I'm up there,' he jerked a thumb towards the crow's nest, 'many a time I could run you bang into a mine or a bloody sub if I wanted to.'

Why didn't you?'

'I wouldn't like to see you sinking. That's all.'

A head had appeared over the bridge. 'What's all this damn row down there?'

'This man—' Mr. Hump lumped up to see Dunford's eye upon him – 'this man—'

'They're trying to take this man to the madhouse, Captain, when he isn't mad. There's nowt wrong with him, I was—'

'Get for'ard there, you! What the devil are you doing hanging round here?'

Without a word Rochdale swung round on his heel and went for'ard. He clattered down the steps, he seemed to lurch, shrug his shoulders. Once he glanced round to look up at the bridge.

'Goddam disgrace I call it,' he said. 'Them fellers doctors! Wonder they haven't killed the lot of them by now.' He had an idea that robbers did sometimes kill those they robbed. 'And I haven't bin reading any fairy tales, either.' He would always remember the expression upon that soldier's face. There was something so childlike, so soft, just like Annie herself in fact, when she said, 'Love me – Love me!' Poor kid.

'Hello! Where've you been wandering to?'

Rochdale looked up. It was Williams.

'Listen! Let's sit here on the ladder. I want to say something to you. Don't think it funny, because I'm dead serious, you know,' Williams went on. 'Dead serious. I don't believe we'll ever get home. Have you noticed anything funny about this ship?' he asked. His eye followed the length of mast.

Rochdale grinned. 'Don't know as I have, Williams,' he said. 'What put this idea into your head, anyhow? The ship hasn't stopped or anything. She's still going. Listen to the engines. And we haven't been holed?'

'Common sense! Hasn't it occurred to you that the wireless is beggared up.'

'And the operator blown to hell too. Go on, spout it out.'

'Then who can work it now it's broke down?' asked Williams.

'Mr. Ericson. He's qualified for that, I understand. But what's the idea?'

'Oh, it's not the wireless only! We know that's a washout, anyhow. The thing is I really don't believe we're going anywhere at all. I don't believe we'll see land any more. Straight I don't! And I'm getting the bloody creeps besides. Go ahead! Laugh, you soft cod. Laugh! I'm telling you straight! They only used us as a bloody target near that beach, and you know it! Look at us now! Look at these fellers down the hold! Whose cock-eyed work is that? And those poor bastards all in a line there! What's it all coming too? Is the man crazy?'

'Don't be silly,' said Rochdale. 'Target my behind! If it comes to that we were all targets more or less—'

'Yes,' interrupted Williams, 'but d'you think we're all blind except you? You saw what happened. They used this ship as a plain target I tell you. They ordered her to clear out. Why didn't they order all the lot? They were no different to us. Soldiers were three a bloody penny anywhere, mate! No bloody fear, mate. I'm not blind – neither are the others. It's a wonder to me we didn't get sunk right away. That wouldn't have been half so bad as this mess.' He waved his arms in the air. 'Rajah's right. A blasted coffin-ship.'

'Don't talk through your hat, Williams! You're like a parrot, you repeat what you hear somebody else say. Have we to call the Skipper a liar? It was an accident. Anything can happen in war, lad. I'm surprised! And you bin on bleeders into the bargain. Why, that reminds me, I was gassing with one of those wounded lads up there – and funny thing is he had the same idea as you. He thinks we're going in circles. But then, poor lad, he's got a hole in his head as big as an egg, and I reckon his brains have turned upside down or something. He kept saying, "He was a simple man. He stood with simple men!" Oh, he was well away, poor lad. Said his name was Carney. He was in the Fusiliers when he was fourteen. And the next minute he was in the Buffs. Poor cow. He had his hand in mine. God! What strength! But they say that fellows who go potty do have a strong grip. Ugh! It unnerved me. And suddenly he fell fast asleep. Just like a little kid. Didn't you hear me shouting before? Aye! They're taking him to the mad-house. When you look at some on 'em you say to yourself, "Should be sucking his mother's breast." Well, have you got any more ideas? They're two a penny aboard this ship. The latest is the best I heard! We're going a cruise to Honolulu. Think of that!'

Williams scowled. He looked at Rochdale, at his pugnacious nose.

'You can't kid me, mate! I'll take a bet, there you are. I'll take a bet we never see Alexandria. I'll stake every penny I've got and I've got a clean twenty-three pounds seven shillings. Somehow I don't think this money is any good now. Funny, I just got it into my head. Nowhere to spend it.'

'Then bloody well eat it. I prefer a plain tea myself. There's a nice smell coming from the galley there! What is it? D'you know?'

'Let's see.'

They went to the weather-side door, opened it and peeped in. The cook was whistling 'Two lovely Black Eyes' while he stirred a pan of Irish stew.

'Not stew for tea, surely?'

'No – to-morrow's dinner, you mug. He'll be ashore tomorrow lying on top of the Countess of Cairo or some other lady. So if he cooks it now, he'll be able to go ashore early tomorrow! Lucky cows – cooks.'

They shut the door and went back and sat down on the hatch.

'Just look at the lovely sea! Sometimes I'd like to dive in and have a thundering good swim,' said Rochdale. He laid his hands on his knees, became thoughtful. 'Well, I'm not going to worry myself with anybody's ideas,' he announced. 'I've got my own! Too old fashioned though! Wouldn't cut any ice with you.'

'There's some queer business going on somewhere,' Williams said. 'Us soft galoots know nothing, isn't it?'

'Oh, for the Lord's sake,' Rochdale replied. He put his hands to his head, got up and walked away. Williams followed him. They stood in the scuppers; both looked at the swirling water.

'Lovely, isn't it?' said Williams sarcastically. Then he shouted, 'Move, ship! Move, damn you! You only crawl. Move! Move!'

For some moments the two men looked down at the swift-flowing water. They were as one with it, its deep murmurous sound was clamorous in their ears. Others came and went. The lavatory door shut, opened, shut again. One bell. The two men did not move. Was there something mirrored in the depths that held their eyes, glued their feet to the scupper? Rochdale said quickly, 'Funny thing, water, isn't it? What are you thinking of, Williams laddie?'

'Nothing,' the other said. 'Nothing! I'm just looking at this goddam water. I don't believe what anyone says, we're not going into that harbour. No, sir! A little bird tells me different, sir! Bloody fun of it is they think they are.' He laughed. 'Damn funny.'

'Half a mo'!' said Rochdale. 'Here's the bosun's mate coming for'ard. See what he has to say. He may have been up there for fresh orders.' He went up to meet the bosun's mate.

Williams said, 'Go ahead! Ask him! Fat lot he knows.’

'
 
'Scuse me, bos',' Rochdale said, 'is it true we'll be in Alex, round about night?'

'Expect so,' he said. 'What's the goddam hurry? Judy waiting there for you? Yes, Mr. Higginbottom, this ship'll be tied up and we'll all be ashore before nine.'

'Don't you believe it, bosun, it's a gag. I know different to that! Besides, how the hell can we go in till we get fumigated? Never thought of that, did you!'

'No, Mr. Clever, I never,' replied the bosun's mate, 'but I was just wondering though, just wondering how the hell we can get fumigated unless we go in for it.'

They all walked together to the fo'c'sle. A few seconds later a bell rang and a man named Gordon came rushing up the alleyway shouting: 'Hear the bell, mate! We're nearly there! Land on the starboard bow.'

'No.'

'Yes.'

'Forget it,' Williams said.

'Let's go and see.' There was a general exodus from the fo'c'sle. They climbed the fo'c'sle head, looked round, looked at one another. Where was the land?

'Hell! some of you beggars mightn't have seen land for donkey's years,' the bosun shouted up to them. 'Come down to hell out of that. Time to get going. Come along.' And as they came down the ladder:

'What's wrong with you fellers to-day? Got the bloody channel fever or what?'

'No. We haven't any channel fever, bosun. It's this goddam smell all the time! By God, we're about sick of it. You can't get the stink out of your nostrils. Jesus! Does this Skipper intend to take the stiffs home, sit 'em in front of his fire, or what? We ought to have kicked up hell long ago. We didn't sign articles to carry stiffs. What do you fellers say?' He swung round, looking from one to the other of the men now grouped at the foot of the fo'c'sle ladder. Two bells rang.

'Sure! We're fed up with the stink! If they paid us fat money same as they did with those mules, it might be all right. And who cares a damn? Orders. Goddam orders! Today Rochdale went along there where these fellers are lying out on deck. He sat down talking to a lad who's gone goo-goo. He was only trying to cheer him up. What'd the bridge say? "You clear to hell for'ard outer this."
 
'

'Look here, fellers,' said the bosun, 'It's a mucky damn job, I know. I never expected it any more than you. But beggar me, Jack, there's an excuse for everything. There's a war on! I hope you won't forget that. And consider this also: when you've done your job you can go below and turn in. But what about those poor glass-backs aft? They're at it day and night. Now get the hoses out and start work. We got to look respectable going into this damn port.'

'Mr. De-ven-ey! Mr. De-ven-ey!' The voice called down the alleyway.

'Coming! Coming! Whatever is the matter? I was just reading an extraordinary story. I— Hello, Ericson! Your voice is getting terribly strong, my boy. What is it?'

'Land, Mr. Deveney! Mr. Dunford wants you on top now.'

They hurried to the bridge.

'Anything peculiar about this bit of land, Ericson?' asked Deveney.

'It looks just like a mud-pie through my glasses, and the water's turning brown.'

'Funny that,' Deveney said. He took up his glasses and stood by Ericson.

Mr. Dunford was standing in the port wing, hands in his jacket pockets. He seemed to be looking at something too, but somehow it lacked the tensity with which Mr. Ericson looked through his glasses, and said excitedly, 'Can you see it? It really looks as though we are going to get through after all without any more beastly accidents. The first thing I'm going to do when this ship ties up is to go ashore and absolutely wallow in a Turkish bath.'

Sometimes Dunford looked their way. Once he walked halfway across the bridge as though to speak to them, stopped, returned to his place again.

'She can ride Samson, she can! I know all about that. I was there, mate!'

'Leave me go, you bastard! I want to fight for my bloody King.'

'Take him off. He's as empty as a bloody cockle shell. Take him off. Want him to crap himself to death, do you? Marvel, you damn fool, you'll kill the man.'

'My name's Carney! Jack bloody Carney. I was in the Buffs at fourteen I was.'

'He's like a fox. He'd take the boots off a dead man. Walter, I mean, Walters!'

'Three cheers for the good old war! Three cheers for the soldiers buried in muck.'

'Dead slow!'

'O
God
! My sodden leg. My leg! I can't move it.'

'Christ! You'd've laughed! Aye! Wanted to go round the corner just as he was climbing in.'

'The water was full of them! Brave lads! They'll win the goddam war.'

'They're only kidding, you balmy cow! Just kiddin'! We're going round in circles.'

These were voices in Dunford's ears. He thought now of signals, of fresh orders. He thought of the wounded and their landing, the dead and their burying. He was ready, his mind was fixed upon the event to come. But the voices still clamoured in his ears. He had sat alone in the mess-room for over an hour, for a long time, and the vile smell was in his nostrils. And that was the answer to the conundrum! He had seen the wounded, heard their voices, he had remembered in minute detail all the events of the past four days. But always the voices were in his ears, running parallel with the uproar in his mind – that was the panorama of memories. And standing here, he still wondered, wondered how they had come through so miraculously, wondered at the fate of the remainder of that suicide squadron, wondered at the quietness of the men. But he was glad of that quietness. There was nothing of which he might any longer be afraid. They had come through! Danger was past. All that was unique, magnificent, stupid, glorious, mean, had been lived through and he would remember it. But there were some for whom that could mean nothing. 'Thank God!' he said to himself. 'If I get in with one man alive I shall be happy. There are some who cannot wonder any longer. But they are not yet worthless. Let them stink to high heaven!' That is answer enough! Yes. Let them stink to high heaven! He picked up his glasses. 'Hello!' he said. He hurried over to the officers. 'Can you see that thing approaching us?'

'Yes! It looks like a ship. Yet somehow when you look closely it seems like a quay or something. I wonder if it's one of those fishermen's boats,' asked Ericson. Neither answered him. They were watching the strange looking vessel. Dusk was falling. The sea suddenly appeared choppy. Sheafs of white cloud, like gusts of smoke, scudded across the sky. Suddenly rain began to fall.

'Tell the Chief Steward to move those men into the saloon Mr. Ericson!'