Hollow Sea (41 page)

Nor did he wait to hear what Mr. Ericson might reply. He had hardly emerged into the alleyway, than the quartermaster met him and said, 'Orders are to close the bulkhead door and come up. Watch to go for'ard and make ready that dunnage for throwing over.'

'Damn it!' exclaimed the Bosun, 'and who the hell are you? You what? Close the door? Christ, we've only just been sent down to open it. Whose order is this, anyway?'

'Captain Dunford's orders.' The quartermaster was chewing gum.

'Aye. Just so. Only that I'm fixed in a certain position in this ship I'd tell Mr. Dunford what I thought about it. But what the hell. Signed up for duration, almost under the Government you might say, you might as well express your opinions to the devil.' He dashed away and descended the ladder, but only half-way, calling into the cavernous 'tween-deck, 'All hands up there now. Orders is to close that bulkhead door and come up. Mr. Ericson, you've to return to the bridge at once, sir. Mr. Dunford's orders, sir.'

He stood on the step. They were moving back that heavy steel door. Ericson was coming up. He stood aside to let him pass.

What d'you think of this, Bosun?' asked Mr. Ericson.

'H'm!' he laughed. 'Wouldn't care to say, sir.'

Ericson went out of sight.

'Now come on, you fellers. Shake your bloody legs. You don't want to stay down there half the night, do you?'

'Hey, Bosun!'

'Hello! Hello!'

'Come down here a minute.'

'What for? Come on. Up out of that blasted hold. I'm getting tired of some men's orders. I—'

'Yes, you come on down here, Bosun. Have a look here with us. Something funny down here.' A different voice calling up to him now.

Mr. Tyrer felt like swearing loudly; instead, he removed his cap and scratched his head with great vigour.

'I told you fellers to come up. I'm going for'ard. You get that dunnage all set for'ard for slings. Understand what I say?'

'You best come down here, Bosun. Your duty's down here. Vesuvius's got something to say. He won't come up to say it.'

'Shout it up quick, 'cos I'm off. How you fellers can stand it down there I don't know.'

He heard men rushing towards the ladder.

'Blast it,' he shouted, 'what the hell have they discovered now? That man Vesuvius, he's a goddam nuisance.' In a second or two he was standing amongst them. His mood was angry, and he let them know it.

'I can't help that,' Vesuvius said. 'I done a thing here yesterday, and now it looks like somebody been down here since. Somebody messing about. Anyhow, what was in that corner there,' he pointed dramatically with his finger, 'it isn't there now. Somebody been playing at ghosts or something. Best go over there and have a look.' He handed a miniature electric torch to Mr. Tyrer, who switched it on but not until he had got right into the corner.

'My God,' he said, 'this is frightful.'

'Nothing frightful, only somebody playing ghosts I reckon,' Vesuvius said.

'I'm not talking about your ghosts,' the bosun said. 'I'm talking about my nose, hang you.' The light went out again.

Vesuvius went up to him, followed by the other members of the watch. Vesuvius said, 'Here you, Williams, you tell him. He thinks I'm nutty.'

'Yes,' Williams said. 'I was here yesterday. Vesuvius and me we were together, see. We checked up a lot of fellers here. We put five men in there, canvassed up. We were told to do that by Deveney, see. N'somebody's shifted them. They aren't here any more. Tisn't rats, no rats would come in this stinkhouse, Bosun. Something has been happening here. Just thought you ought to know. Dead men's business is nothing to do with us; course we thought you ought to know. That's why he hollered up to you that time. Somebody pinched some dead men.' For the first time Mr. Tyrer laughed.

'Ah!' he said. 'You fellers been stealing whisky from Walters's place. Somebody stealing dead soldiers. I like that, I do. Come along, get up on top there and right for'ard on the job. Some man's time's been getting wasted. Up now, all bloody hands.'

He pushed the nearest man. The watch went to the ladders again. They climbed, came out in air, cool breeze, opened their lungs, breathed hard.

'All right,' the bosun said. 'Don't stand there. Tisn't exercise time.'

The whole watch went for'ard, followed by Mr. Tyrer.

On the bridge Dunford heard them going for'ard. He had said open the bulkhead door on D deck, and they had carried out the order, and suddenly he had said 'Close it,' and they had closed it. They were going for'ard, and he, Dunford, was hearing them go, trying to glimpse their shadows moving up. But he could not make up his mind.

He read 'Half-speed' under his eye. It tormented him. He wished it were full. 'Half-speed' got on his nerves. Slow, slow, crawling through dragging hours. And suddenly he had made his decision. He went over to Deveney and Ericson, who had been talking low for some minutes.

'Mr. Deveney,' he began, and the now first officer turned and looked at Dunford.

'I have decided to bury all those men. Mr. Ericson, have the bosun sent up here at once.'

He went on talking to Deveney then. He could see how relieved he was, and there was a certain measure of satisfaction in that.

'It's the best thing you could do, Mr. Dunford. You see the men for'ard are complaining, apart from the stewards, and their position is much worse, Mr. Dunford. I'm still trying to make sense of the silly order we got.'

'Yes, of course. Now all this happens because somebody makes a mistake, Mr. Deveney. But the person who makes it can't be seen, can't be found. I—' And he stopped suddenly, seeing Mr. Tyrer coming forward on Mr. Ericson's heels.

He drew the bosun into the corner, a hand light on his shoulder.

'Bosun, you'll have to get your men down below as soon as possible, and that is at once. The watch below must get below also. The 'tween-decks must be cleaned out. Open up all the port bulkhead doors and stand by. I shall be down there myself as soon as I can get away.' Mr. Tyrer seemed not to understand for a moment or two continuing to stare at Captain Dunford as though quite unable to comprehend.

'And don't stand there, man,' shouted Dunford angrily.

Mr. Tyrer went away. He reflected that it was the first time he had ever heard Mr. Dunford's voice raised. He was not angry. On the contrary, he felt sorry for that man. He was beginning to understand more now. All upon the bridge heard him bawling up the alleyway.

'All out there! All out! Every man jack of you. Big funeral tonight, shifting all those dead fellers below there. Come on, for Christ's sake, and show a leg.'

Yes, he was a little sorry for that captain, but, damn it all, he was just remembering that he had been out on watch just an hour and nothing done, no decisions made, running here, there and everywhere, beginning things and never ending them. Now he realized that a chap like Rochdale was a very lucky man. All the look-out men were lucky on this man's ship. He stamped his way into the fo'c'sle, leaning heavily on the table, already littered with cups, knives, the remains of a meal, a cap here, a sou'wester there. Men were climbing out of bunks, sleepy-eyed, wondering. The watch who had just gone for'ard were already passing out and into the alleyway.

'Come on, fellers, shift your bloody legs there. You ought to run to a job like that, considering it's the last job you'll ever do in them 'tween-decks. And will I be sorry when it's all over? Let me see, I forgot the number of men we stacked down there, I know it was over a hundred. And Walters and his mate they checked up on them so that's all right. We got them fellers' addresses all right. So Mr. Dunford don't have to do any worrying. Lumme! It was terrible down there. Come on now, shake yourselves and get outside. I might tell you chaps that though the old man is a decent sort and hardly ever raises his voice, he raised it tonight to me, aye, like billyho, but you see he's worried as hell, he is. I don't blame him. Wouldn't have his job for a million. No, sir. Not if you crowned me. A nice mess. First we gets troops aboard and starts off for Jerusalem or Paradise or whatever bloody place you like to call it. And we gets orders to do this and do that, follow here, come there, swing out your boats, crawl like goddamn worms, pile 'em in, yes sir, pile 'em in, all the good lads come to take Paradise for England, and over they go and off go them guns and down go them boats, and fellers flying in the bloody air. Yes, sir, and the deck covered with 'em, blown back to us for luck you might say, and then we gets another order, pick up as many blurry men as you can and beat it. Just 'cos they made a mistake. So we picks them up' – he paused now as the last man stepped out of the fo'c'sle, and keeping in line with him he carried on his running commentary all the way to the well-deck – 'aye, and then we gets told to beggar off with them to anywhere, I suppose, and then we gets near Alex., lovely bloody Alex., and gets more orders. Bloomin' place stinking with pox or something they said, and we dropped anchor, and then we pulled it up again, and we set out for bloody good old England with a pile of stinking dead and them fellers below there. Yes, sir, and the feller on top worried to death what to do. Yes, sir.'

A voice called from the front of the line: 'Well, we're doing it, so I reckon there's nothing to worry about.'

'
 
'Cept the stink,' Williams shouted back towards the bosun.

Above, Dunford heard all this. He leaned over the rail listening.

'Ah! Beggar the goddam lot on 'em, that's what I say.'

'Williams,' called up Mr. Tyrer, 'you show these fellers how to get them doors opened quick as winking. I'm after you. And less gab out of you fellers in front there. It's the middle of the night and some folks are sleeping I reckon, even though we can't.'

He hoped he had shouted loud enough for those on the bridge to hear. He still felt a little nettled at the way Mr. Dunford had shouted into his ear. Him a bosun, too. It didn't call for it. He never shouted at no man. Course those fellers on top they were always irritable. That was having responsibilities. Thank Christ he hadn't ever bothered about going in for
his
ticket. He went near the bulwarks and spat contemptuously over the side. Then he caught up with the men who had just passed into the alleyway aft.

'All set there, you fellers?' he called out.

'Sure. All set, Bosun. How you feeling, yourself?'

Mr. Tyrer knew that voice so he did not answer.

'Right, then down you get,' and he followed after them. Clumsily they descended the ladder in the darkness.

'Isn't half dark in this stink-hole,' a man called back, not loudly, but in a kind of awed whisper. 'Isn't half dark in this hole.'

'How in hell they reckon we can get doors open in pitch dark?'

'Same's you done before,' Mr. Tyrer called down. He almost slipped off the ladder. He went down holding his nose with one hand.

'Disgraceful,' he thought, and shouted quickly, 'You fellers holding your noses, there?'

'We got to get a light of some kind,' a voice called to him.

'And you'll get no goddam light, I tell you. Feel with your hands. Besides, once you get them doors swung back you'll get a sort of light from outside. You can easily see them bundles. I reckon it were best if half a dozen of you went through to C deck and picked up anything handy for the job. It's a good hour's work here, I think.'

Nobody answered him. He had reached the 'tween-decks. The men were standing in a group, they seemed to be conferring with each other. Mr. Tyrer went up to them, pushed hard.

'I know it's tough,' he said, 'but you got to do it. It's the orders. Things might be worse, fellers. I know how you feel about it. But just you think again, think what them glassbacks had to go through afore Walters decided to be real human and get 'em up above. And don't forget, either, it's the last time you feller's'll have to come down here. I'll be glad myself, glad to get this ship back into shape again, looking like a man's ship 'stead of a mixture of looney asylum and mortuary. Now, you lads, get them bundles over here. That's it. Pile 'em near here, see.' He pointed with his foot, though they could not see anything.

'We got to wait till one of those chaps comes down from the bridge. You know, fellers, best thing about being a sailor, an ordinary sailor, is you just got to do what you're told and no more'n that. See? Responsibility is theirs. Just think, chaps, what those men on top there got to do when we reach port. Filling up papers and answering questions and making reports here there and everywhere, yet us common sailors we just packs our bags and goes ashore and home to the missus. I bin on ships like these in the Boer War and I mind one skipper after a long and trying trip, he had to anchor in the river when he got home and she was five weeks in that river, then she went into dock and even then he didn't get home. Not for a whole week after that. So you see, fellers, how fortunate we are. No responsibilities. No nothing. Just do your job and keep your mouth shut. Ssh! I think I hear somebody coming now. 'Spect it's Ericson or Mr. Deveney. There's a real old timer for you, been in all kinds of ships and done all kinds of things, queer things too, and seen a few as well, but he never says nothing. No,
sir,
Quiet as a little mouse. You wonder sometimes what's at the back of their heads. Might as well ask the bloody moon. Yes, it is somebody. Get going. Do something. Show you're interested, anyhow. Lord! Such a stink. Such a mess. You what? What are you trying to say, you there in the far corner?'

'Nothing, 'cept this goddam door won't open properly. Maybe you best come along here, Bosun. You got to get these doors right back and lashed proper case they swing back on you when you're not looking. Anyhow, this one won't budge. Reckon it hasn't been opened since they built her.'

But when Mr. Deveney arrived everybody lapsed into silence. They heard him conferring with Mr. Tyrer, then the officer raised his voice. They heard everything. The second heavy steel door was already swinging back, there was a clanking sound of chains. Now they understood. And suddenly everybody was silent again, the man's whispering ceased. Mr. Tyrer's and Mr. Deveney's conversation came to an abrupt end. Everything was plain, was clear now. A.10 engines had stopped. The ship was hove to. And out through the door they heard the sound of water, rushing waters.