Thunder at Dawn (12 page)

‘Hands to coal ship.’ It was a fact of life for the ship’s company that she coaled every week or ten days. It was heavy, filthy work and only the Captain was excused. But this time they would remember.

Because of the gale. Aboard the collier they threw off the hatch-covers and jumped down into the holds with their shovels. The coal was packed tight and the devil to break into as always but now they worked in a gale that rolled both ships together so that the coal shifted and slid in an oily, mountainous flow and they staggered and fell as they worked. They shovelled the coal into sacks and these were swung up out of the holds by the derricks, ten sacks to a strop, swayed over and lowered to
Thunder’s
deck.

Between the coaling scuttles in her deck and the bunkers far below were the mess-decks. So canvas chutes were rigged between scuttles and bunkers. The sacks were wheeled on barrows to the scuttles and the motion of the ship set the barrows grinding hard or trying to run away with the men. It was hard and it was dangerous. They emptied the sacks down the scuttles and the coal fell down the chutes into the bunkers. There was never a chute that did not leak but coaldust found its way anywhere, anyway, so the mess-decks were filthy.

In the dust-filled gloom of the bunkers they worked with smarting eyes, soaked sponges tied across noses and mouths, trimming the coal. They staggered with the lift and plunge of the ship and the groaning and creaking of the two ships working together was a hellish noise in the steel drums of the bunkers, punctuated by the roar and crash as the coal came down. They always counted men into and out of the bunkers because men had been buried by coal.

In spite of the gale they worked in a frenzied haste, coaling faster than they had ever done because there was not a man who did not know what coal meant to the ship, and that time was against them. This coaling was different because the collier was sinking. Aboard
Thunder
they could see it. They would glance at the collier and when they looked again they saw she was a little lower in the water. The Petty Officers and men on the securing warps could feel it because as the collier sank the warps had to be eased. While they held her in to
Thunder’s
side they would not hold her up from the sea that claimed her. It was delicate nerve-racking work. Ease the warp too much and the collier would swing away to slam back against
Thunder’s
side, ease it too little and the strain would part it and the whip-crack of a parting warp could kill a man.

In the holds the coal shifted and slid and the sea pounded against the side but every now and again they would hear the surge of the water inside her. The hatch was a black rectangle against the lights and far above the men as they shovelled and sweated and cursed.

The crew of the collier were taken off as soon as she was made fast alongside. Garrick brought her Master to the wing of the bridge.

He was wild-eyed. “You should have taken us off. She could have gone down anytime. Man, you’ve only got to
look
at her! Every minute I thought she might go, every second! You could have taken us off. I watched you handle this ship and, by Christ! You’re a seaman! So you could ha’ taken us off but you
wouldn’t
. I
pleaded
with you to take us off and you passed us a
bloody
tow
!
Why
?” His face was haggard.

Smith did not look at him or answer him. Instead he asked, “Why did you sail south when I asked that you wait for me at Malaguay?”

The Master peered at him, bewildered. ‘What’s that got to do with it? But wait be buggered. The Consul said you needed the coal and I was to find you. You don’t suppose I put to sea in this weather for sport, do you? I did it for you, you —” He stopped, not speechless but holding back the last words. Then he said, almost pleading again, “We all thought our number was up, then you came along but you wouldn’t take us off. We’re men like yourself. Sailormen. I don’t see how you could —” He stopped again and shook his head.

Smith finally turned to him a face as haggard as his own and the eyes as wild. “I had to have coal.
I
had
to
have
coal
!”

The Master stepped back from those eyes but Smith turned away and back to watching his men. The Master whispered, “You’re mad! A bloody
madman
!”

But then Garrick took his arm and led him away.

Smith stood alone. He watched the collier sinking and his men slaving in her at risk of their lives and the Master’s charges hammered in his head …
‘bloody
madman …
’ But his answer was the same. He had to have coal. Because of the cruisers. And because of
Ariadne
and the
Elizabeth
Bell
and the other British shipping and hundreds of British seamen along this coast. Because of
Thunder
.

He knew that he was right but in his mind he saw the Master’s face and took no comfort from being right.

*

He handed over the bridge to Garrick and went down to the
Mary
Ellen
. Not because of her Master nor for any fake heroics but he had sent these men down into the collier and he could no longer stand high on the bridge looking down on them like some little god. He paced her deck with that restless stride and felt the sluggish, water-laden dying of her under him. He went down into the holds where despite the searchlights the men laboured in a reeling near-darkness of dust-filled oppression and the coal slithered and slid around a man’s knees, or his waist so another would have to cease his frantic shovelling to haul him out bodily.

They saw him.

Somebody coughed and spat filthy phlegm and croaked, “What’s he doin’ here? Don’t say our old cow’s goin’ down faster nor this one!” And they laughed madly, coughed and laughed again and the shovels ripped at the coal.

He said nothing but he grinned at them through a mask of coal-dust. On deck he told Aitkyne and the Petty Officers: “When it comes you must be quick. Get them out and back aboard.” And to the two men, one forward, one aft who stood with axes where the big warps came down from
Thunder
and were secured aboard the collier: “When I give the word, cut her loose and jump! Understood?”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

He paced the deck of the
Mary
Ellen
as the loads soared up from the holds, until the colliers winches faltered and died and the hands struck the rigging that connected her derricks to
Thunder’s
. Only the winch of the boat derrick hammered on aboard
Thunder
.

The Mary
Ellen
was settling.

He felt the sudden, sick lurch of her and his mouth was open when one of the party on the warp forward leaned over
Thunder’s
rail to scream through the clatter of the winch: “
She’s
going
!”

Smith shouted, “Cut her loose! Get those men out and all accounted for!”

The axes flashed as they rose and fell. The hands came clambering out of the holds, yanked out by the Petty Officers and thrust towards the side. They jumped at the nettings and clawed their way up
Thunder’s
side like flies caught in a web.

“Number two hold cleared, sir.”

“… hold cleared, sir!”

“Get aboard!” He shouted at them. “Get
aboard
!”

He stood by the after hold with
Thunders
boat derrick projecting above him like a gallows tree with its dangling wire. The
Mary
Ellen
was going down. He snapped at Aitkyne, the only man left on the deck, “How many men in the hold?” The wire from the derrick hung slackly down into the hold.

“Two, sir. Kennedy and young Manton.”

Now Smith could see them down there, securing the sacks on the strop. One of them yelled, mouth pink against the coal-dust, Aitkyne lifted his arm and the wire drew taut.

Smith shoved him towards the side. “Get aboard!” He saw him on the nettings as the warps parted to slam against
Thunder’s
side and be hauled inboard. He saw the two men with axes throw them away, jump at the nets and scramble up.

He was a solitary figure on the collier’s deck under the glare of the lights as the sea seemed to hang above the deck of the
Mary
Ellen
and then fell in on him. The load came swinging up out of the hold with Kennedy and Manton clinging to the sacks and as it soared past him he clawed and caught hold and Kennedy’s fist clamped on his collar. He was snatched off the deck of the collier as the sea smashed around his waist.

They swung like a pendulum, fingers hooked like claws and knees gripping the sacks above a boiling sea. The
Mary
Ellen
had gone. Then the derrick swayed them in and down on to
Thunder’s
deck.

They had torn a hundred and twenty tons of coal out of the
Mary
Ellen
. At risk of their lives they had won at most another twenty-four hours of life for
Thunder
. Now she had coal for just two days’ steaming.

VIII

Thunder
raised the scattered lights of Malaguay at midnight, seen dimly through recurrent rain that drove in on the gale that thrust at her, rocking her still further in a sea that rolled her badly enough, and blowing her smoke down and across that sea. She still heaved lumpily in the shelter of the roadstead as she came to anchor. The pinnace set out for the shore with the crew of the
Mary
Ellen
and the searchlight blinked to
Ariadne
and
Elizabeth
Bell
: “Prepare to sail with me forthwith.”

Ariadne
acknowledged at once but the signal had to be repeated twice to the
Elizabeth
Bell
, and Smith was on the point of firing a gun to get their attention, infuriated at this delay, when a lamp replied limpingly from her bridge.

There was a hail from the deck and a moment later Wakely reported: “Boat alongside, sir. Mr. Thackeray coming aboard.”

As Smith left the bridge he caught Garrick’s eye on him and said flatly, “I know, coal. You’d better come along and hear what he has to say.”
Thunder
had steamed at fifteen knots for most of the previous twenty-six hours and had devoured coal that at ten knots, would have lasted four days. Now she was left with coal for only forty-eight hours’ steaming. She had to coal before those two days were out or lie a motionless hulk at the end of them.

Thackeray came aboard in a glistening wet yellow oilskin that reached to his ankles and they went to Smith’s deck cabin. Thackeray shook the folds from a clean, white handkerchief, wiped a face that was even longer than usual and asked in a tone between hope and apprehension: “Did you find her?”

Smith nodded. “She refused to heave to and continued to claim she was a neutral. Have you heard any report that she was calling the shore stations?”

“None.”

“She was sending hard enough to someone, and in code. And our wireless picked up a reply that was a Telefunken transmission. That scarcely sounds neutral to me.” He paused as Thackeray stared at him, then: “I sank her!”

Thackeray’s lips tightened till they became a thin, sulky line as Smith pushed on, his voice dangerously quiet.

“She was not the only collier to sink. I met the
Mary
Ellen
south of here. Her engines were broken down and she was being driven on to a lee shore where she had no damned business to be and her Master said
you
sent her! She sank!”

A nerve twitched a corner of Thackeray’s mouth. “It seemed best.”

“Best! If her engines hadn’t broken down I’d have missed her altogether!”

“— and in accordance with your request for assistance.”

Smith stared at him. “My request? I asked you to fetch her here to wait for me.”

“You asked me to bring her down from Guaya because you badly needed coal. You didn’t say she was to wait.”

“I didn’t need to! Because you couldn’t send her anywhere because you didn’t even know where
I
was going.”

“I knew you sailed south.”

“That is a very general direction in a very large ocean.”

“I am no seaman.”

“Yet you instructed the Master of the
Mary
Ellen
to sail south.”

“I was repeating your instructions.”

“I told you —”

“I remember very well what you told me, Captain. I only wish I had a witness to the conversation.”

Smith sat silent. There was a little gleam of triumph in Thackeray’s eyes and Smith had not missed the point of his words. Smith did not have a witness either, so it was his word against Thackeray’s. He looked at Garrick, who was peering at Thackeray with distaste. It was obvious who Garrick believed. Smith was confident he knew what a Court of Enquiry would believe if they were asked by Thackeray to accept that a seaman had left instructions to send a collier to sea with the vague direction to head south. No seaman in his right mind would—

His thoughts stumbled, then limped on. Three ships sunk in forty-eight hours, two of them claiming to be neutrals and the Master of the third believing him to be a madman.

Thackeray had sent the
Mary
Ellen
south knowing very well the odds were that
Thunder
would miss her. Because Smith had wrecked his cosy little world. Because he hated Smith.

He looked at Thackeray and could read all this in the man’s remote face. But prove it? He rubbed his hands across his face. He felt tired and said tiredly, “There will be a Court of Enquiry.” He was done with Thackeray.

Thackeray was not done with him. He said with satisfaction, “No doubt. The attitude of the Chileans has hardened even further. I understand the Master of the
Gerda
is screaming to high heaven that she was neutral and there is no
evidence
to the contrary. They’re really angry.” He did not say they were howling for Smith’s head but that could be read between the lines. “They were very suspicious about the seaplane and why the pinnace went to her. I told them I knew nothing about it.” He was washing his hands of that. “They’re very hostile. My protest about the German breach of neutrality was accepted and that’s all.”

“What breach of neutrality?”

“The
Leopard
, the gunboat interned here. There was no sentry aboard her, only one on the quay and last night, after you sailed, it seems he abandoned his post. She got up steam and slipped away.”

“
What
?”

“There’s quite a strong German faction here. So when she was interned her crew were left to live aboard. She wasn’t disabled but all her ammunition was taken off and put in bond in the Naval Arsenal. That was partly because she is, or was, tied up close to the town and they didn’t want a lot of explosives lying around there indefinitely, but it also satisfied the neutrality laws, in that she could not fight.”

“So she went to sea toothless.” Smith scowled but it was a comforting thought in one way. “With what object?”

“Object?”

“She can’t sail to Germany and in her present state she can’t fight. What reason could she have for going to sea?” He supplied the answer himself. “She’s gone to meet the cruisers.”

It was one more piece of evidence, circumstantial no doubt, but it fitted. Garrick looked thoughtful.

Smith said, “The cruisers can supply her with ammunition, and what’s more she will be one more pair of eyes for them.” Thackeray would not appreciate that. He had not stood on the bridge of
Thunder
that morning, cursing the lack of an extra pair of eyes.

He prompted Thackeray bitterly because Thackeray was piling it on. “Anything
else
?”

Thackeray hesitated, seemed reluctant, then said, “I had a cable.
Kunashiri
is in these waters. She’s a long way north but she’s steaming south. She’s due at Guaya in thirty-six hours or less …”

Smith stared at him, slowly taking it in. Japan was an ally and
Kunashiri
was one of the big, new Japanese battlecruisers, fast enough to catch a German armoured cruiser, her twelve-inch guns big enough for her to stand off and destroy the victims when caught. Smith had wished for a consort and now he had one with a vengeance.

He found he was on his feet, and laughing. Then he remembered: the battle-cruiser was his salvation but first he had to reach her. He said brusquely, “I must ask you to excuse me now.
Ariadne
and
Elizabeth
Bell
should be ready to sail soon and I want to leave for Guaya as soon as possible.”

And he wanted to be quit of Thackeray with his narrow mouth and narrow cunning, his stupidity.

Thackeray did not move. He was looking down at his hands that were clasped as if in prayer and Smith could not see his eyes though he saw the twist of the lips as Thackeray spoke. “I received a second cable. This one said that
Wolf
and
Kondor
have been sighted in the Indian Ocean and the hunt has started there.” He looked up at Smith and the eyes glittered. He had held it back to the end though it made the rest irrelevant.

Smith could not speak.

Garrick said, “Could easily be a mistake, sir. Some of these merchant chaps …” His voice trailed away and Smith knew Garrick did not believe what he had said because Garrick had always doubted. Only Sarah Benson … Garrick did not look at him. Smith thought, ‘Never kick a man when he’s down.’

Thackeray said, “They’re searching.”

Garrick said, “I think it’s time you went ashore Mister Thackeray.” Now his voice held distaste. Thackeray pulled his oilskin about him. “I’m not going ashore. I’ve booked a passage in the
Elizabeth
Bell
as far as Guaya. I think it’s time I compared notes with Mr. Cherry, particularly as he may be called home over this — this unfortunate affair.”

Smith asked quietly, “Have you told Graham and Ballard?”

Thackeray knew what he meant — the cruisers being sighted in the Indian Ocean. He smiled. “No. I thought I’d leave that to you.”

Garrick shouldered out of the cabin after Thackeray and Smith was left alone. He sat there for some time. Once he thought that Sarah Benson had believed and he wondered how she felt. Thackeray would tell her and Graham as soon as he set foot aboard the
Elizabeth
Bell
.

He climbed up to the bridge. Aitkyne turned his back to the wind that hurled the rain in driving sheets, wiped at his streaming face and shouted, “They’re both of them on the move, sir! Must have had steam up!”

Smith nodded. They would certainly have had steam up. By now they would have abandoned hope of
Thunder’s
return within the time-limit he had set and been preparing to take him at his word and sail on their own initiative. They did not know of the cruiser’s sighting, that cable had been for Thackeray and Smith only.

He was aware that Garrick had muttered to Aitkyne and now both were watching him. They looked — sorry.

He said flatly, “
Elizabeth
Bell
to lead at five knots, then
Ariadne
and we’ll bring up the rear.” The tramp was the slowest vessel. These were the dispositions he had decided before he reached Malaguay. He would play the game out to the end. “Make to
Elizabeth
Bell
: ‘Act on instructions from
Ariadne’
. And to
Ariadne
: ‘Pass all my orders to
Elizabeth
Bell’
.”

*

Thunder
weighed and left her brief shelter and went to sea again but moving dead slow as she waited for the other two ships as they came beating out of the anchorage and plunging into the big seas outside.
Ariadne
led but as she came up to
Thunder
and the signal lamp flashed from the wing near Smith her speed fell away. Smith thought that Ballard would be annoyed at the slow speed. It was a comfortable speed for
Elizabeth
Bell
in this weather but a funeral march for
Ariadne
. He saw in the lights on her deck the white faces of a few hardy souls who had braved the storm to demonstrate their loyalty. They stood in a huddled group on the deck below the superstructure and he saw them waving.

Elizabeth
Bell
followed close on
Ariadne
and narrowing the gap. Seas were bursting over her fo’c’sle. The signal lamp flickered again on
Thunder
and was acknowledged. No one waved on
Elizabeth
Bell
but he saw Graham in the lighted wheelhouse lift his bowler, and abaft the bridge a figure clung to a stanchion, skirt whipping out like a flag. Sarah Benson. Smith wondered why she was on deck in this weather?

Thunder
was increasing speed and Smith ordered, “Make to
Ariadne
: ‘Darken ship’.” And then he shifted restlessly as he came back to partial life and the thoughts stirred. He leaned over the rail, staring not at
Ariadne
but at the darkness astern, black, white-whipped sea and beyond the lights of Malaguay. No one on shore would see them now. “Mr. Wakely.”

“Sir?”

“I think I see a boat astern of us.”

Wakely was silent a moment, leaning beside Smith, then he said quickly, “Yes, sir. Looks like a big motor-launch — can’t make out a funnel — but I can’t make out much of her at all. She’s carrying no lights.”

Smith faced forward. “Watch her.”
Ariadne
and
Elizabeth
Bell
had obeyed the order and their ports were covered and only navigation lights showed. “Make to
Ariadne
: ‘Turn in succession, four points to port’.” He waited as the signal was made and acknowledged and waited again as
Ariadne
passed it on. The minutes stretched out and then Garrick said, “
Elizabeth
Bell
is turning.”