Maddon's Rock (8 page)

“Lucky it ain’t rice, like we was carrying last time,” somebody said.

“Threw me right a’t o’ me hammick, it did.”

“Torpedo, that’s wot it was.”

“Get away wi” ye. How would a U-boat be after torpedoing us on a night like this? It’s a mine, I tell ye.”

Scraps of excited talk were flung in my ears by the wind. And the ship looked strangely normal in the bright glare of her deck lights. There was no sign of damage to her superstructure. She had no list. But with her engines stopped she was swinging broadside to the wind and rolling drunkenly. Hendrik appeared out of the bridge accommodation. With him was the little Welshman, Evans. Halsey’s voice boomed out again through his megaphone. Quiet!” he shouted. “There’s no need to panic. Go quickly to your boat stations. Mr. Cousins! Get Number
Two boat swung out and then stand by. Chief! Get Number One swung out. Mr. Hendrik! Go below and ascertain the damage. Take Evans with you. He’s right beside you.”

The normal appearance of the ship had calmed the men. They went quietly to their stations. Some dived back down below for clothes or forgotten life jackets. They clawed their way along the decks as the ship rolled drunkenly. The engines began pulsing again and below the sound of the wind and the seas breaking aboard I heard the roar of the pumps working.

I clawed my way back to our quarters, clutching the rail. Each time the ship rolled into a trough, the next wave broke inboard. At times I was up to my waist in water. As I reached our quarters, the door was slid back and Bert and Sills pitched out against the rail. Their faces looked very white. “Wot’s up, guvner?” Bert gasped as he got his breath.

“Hit a mine for’ard,” I said. “Get your life jackets on.” I dived into our quarters and struggled into mine. I helped the other two on with theirs. When I went out on deck again the starboard boat had been swung out. Some of the men were getting into them. “That’s our boat—Number Two on the port side,” I said.

Bert grabbed my arm. “That’s the one wot’s got those loose planks, ain’t it? Sills told me.” His voice sounded scared. I’d forgotten all about it until he mentioned it. I felt a sudden surge of panic grip me by the guts. I made no comment. “Get to your boat stations,” I said.

As we started off along the deck I fancied she was already getting heavy in the bows. Hendrik suddenly materialised almost at my elbow. Evans was with him. They both hurried for’ard. Somebody called out to the Welshman, “Hey, Evans—didn’t you go down with Mr. Hendrik?”

“Yes, I did,” he called back.

“How bad is it?”

“Bad as it could be, man,” he called back. “It caught that weak plate we had strengthened at Murmansk.
There’s a hole about a mile wide in Number One and the water’s pouring through like Niagara Falls.” His excitable high-pitched voice carried round the deck.

Hendrik ran up the bridge ladder. Everyone was watching as he reported to the Captain. Then Halsey turned with the megaphone to his lips. “Mr Cousins! Get the men embarked in the boats. Call a roll. Report when each boat’s complement is complete. The ship’s settling by the head. We’ve got about ten minutes before she goes down.”

A shocked murmur ran through the crew. “Cor lumme!” Bert said in my ear. “Bang goes ’alf a million quid’s worf o’ the old bright an’ shinin’.”

We were just under the bridge now, by our boat station. I heard Captain Halsey call to Hendrik to see that all hands were out of the engine-room. “Mr. Cousins!” he shouted, cupping his hands and leaning over the side of the bridge, “get Number Two boat swung out. Look sharp there!”

“Are the bulkheads holding, sir?” Cousins asked.

“Number Two bulkhead’s gone,” the Captain shouted down at him. “Mr. Hendrik expects Number Three to go any minute. Come on, jump to it.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Cousins answered.

A sailor standing near me said, “That’s funny. Number Two were still ’olding when I come up.”

“Ain’t yer goin’ ter do nuffink, Corp?” Bert asked me. “I mean, them poor devils oughter be told ab’t that boat.”

“What’s the use, Bert?” I answered. “It’s the boat or nothing for them now.”

“Wot aba’t them rafts,?” he asked.

“There are only two,” I pointed out. “They’d hold about four men apiece.”

“They could ’ang on to ’em.”

“And die in an hour from the cold,” I said. “This is the Arctic, you know. Those planks may hold.”

“You three soldiers,” Cousins called out to us,” come and help swing this boat out.”

We stumbled forward to where several of the crew
were trying to force the boat out on its davits. The
Trikkala
rolled and we were flung in amongst them. Rankin was there. So was my friend the cook. I remember he had the tortoise-shell cat in his arms. The ship rolled, the davits creaked and the boat swung out. A broken wave top thundered against the ship’s side, blinding us with spray. For an instant we seemed almost submerged in water. Then the side of the ship shook clear of the wave. The sea spouted outboard, dragging at our feet, as she rolled away to starboard. And in all this din of wind and roaring water, I heard Halsey’s voice; “
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cater acts and hurricanoes, spout till you have drench’d our steeples, drown’d the cocks!
” He laughed wildly in the teeth of the gale and then shouted down at us, “Come on—man that boat. Mr. Rankin! You and your men in Number Two boat.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” said Rankin.

“All clear below, Mr. Hendrik?”

“All clear, sir,” Hendrik replied.

“Put Miss Sorrel in Number Two, Mr. Hendrik.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Rankin gripped me by the arm. “In you get, Corporal. Sills, Cook—up you go.”

I hesitated. The crew were piling into the boat. Oars were being unshipped. It looked crowded and frail. I thought of the planks that had shifted under the pressure of my fingers. I looked aft to where the two rafts still hung in their fixtures above the after-deckhousing. “I’ll take a chance on one of the rafts,” I told Rankin.

“You’ll do as you’re told, Corporal,” he replied sharply. Give him his due, he didn’t seem scared.

And almost I obeyed. The habit of obedience was not easily shaken off. But the sound of the sea was all about me. And suddenly my mind was made up. “Remember what I told you about the state of that boat?” I said. “I’m taking one of the rafts. I advise you to do the same.”

“I’m wiv yer, Corp,” Bert said. “I ain’t hembarking in a ruddy sieve.”

Rankin hesitated. But at that moment Halsey’s voice shouted down at us, “Mr. Rankin—get yourself and your men into that boat.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Rankin’s Naval training reasserted itself. “Now in you get, both of you,” he said. “That’s an order. Sills?”

Sills moved towards the boat. “Now you, Cook,” Rankin ordered.

“I’m going wiv the Corp,” Bert said, and there was an obstinate expression in his face.

“Coom on, lad,” Sills said to him. “You’ll only get yourself in trouble for nothing. Maybe the planks ain’t as bad as they seemed.”

“Corporal!” Rankin ordered.

“I’m taking a raft,” I reiterated.

Rankin’s hand gripped my arm. His voice was excited. “Corporal Vardv—I’ll give you one last chance. Get into that boat?”

I shook him off. “I’m taking a raft,” I shouted at him. “Why the hell didn’t you pass on my report to the Captain?”

Captain Halsey’s voice sounded from just above us. I looked up. He was leaning over the bridge. His beard glistened with salt spray. His eyes were excited and wild looking. “Mr. Rankin?” he roared. ‘I’m ordering you to get yourself and those two men into that boat. What’s the trouble?”

“They refuse to embark, sir” Rankin replied.

“Refuse to embark!” he screamed. “Report to me on the bridge.” He disappeared from view and from the other end of the bridge I heard him ordering Number One boat away. There was a confused medley of orders. Then the boat disappeared from view. In a lull in the wind I heard the falls whistle as they slid through the blocks. At that moment Jennifer Sorrel was escorted on to the deck. She looked white and almost fragile in her khaki greatcoat and the cumbersome bulk of her cork lifejacket. Hendrik was with her. He handed her over to Cousins. The second officer had got all the men embarked. Sills was up there too. His thin, damp face looked white
in the lights. He was scared. The cook was hugging his cat, which was struggling and clawing at him in a frenzy.

I suddenly found Jennifer Sorrel standing beside me. Cousins was about to help her into the boat. The
Trikkala
rolled heavily. Once again the port rail disappeared in a welter of swirling water. Then we were clear. The girl was right beside me at the rail. “Miss Sorrel,” I said, “Don’t go in that boat. I’m convinced it’s not safe.”

“How do you mean?” she said.

“The planks are loose in her,” I said.

Cousins overheard me. “Stop that nonsense, soldier,” he said, angrily. “Hurry, please, Miss Sorrel. We ought to be clear by now.”

Suddenly I felt at all costs I must stop her going on that boat. “Please,” I said. “Take one of the rafts. It’ll be cold. But it’ll float.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Cousins’ hand gripped my shoulder and spun me round. “The boat’s all right. I went over it only a week ago myself.” His right fist was clenched.

“Yes, but you didn’t inspect it last night,” I told him, watching for his fist. “I did. Miss Sorrel,” I said pleadingly over my shoulder, “please believe me—you’d be safer on the raft.”

“Listen, you,” Cousins shouted. “If you’re scared to get into a boat in a rough sea, I’ll have to make you.” There was an ugly glint in his eye and his youthful face was set hard.

Bert suddenly stepped forward and gripped the wrist of his clenched hand. “The Corp’s right, mister,” he said. “I felt them planks meself. They’re loose. An’ don’t you start nuffink, see.” Then he turned to the girl. “You take my tip, Miss, an’ do as the Corp says. You’ll be safer wiv us.”

The men were murmuring at the delay. The
Trikkala
was beginning to feel sluggish at the bows and though it was impossible to be sure in that turmoil, she seemed to have a definite slant for’ard. Halsey’s voice suddenly
shouted above our heads. “Mr. Cousins! Clear that boat, will you.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Cousins answered. He threw Bert off. “Come on, Miss Sorrel, please. We’ve got to get clear.” I saw her hesitate. Her eyes searched mine. Suddenly she turned to Cousins and said, “I’ll take a chance on one of the rafts.”

“My instructions are to take you in this boat,” was Cousins’ reply. “Come on now. I’ve no more time to waste.” And he made as though to pick her up.

“Leave go of me,” she cried and wriggled away from him.

“Clear that boat, will you, Mr. Cousins,” Halsey screamed. He sounded beside himself with rage.

“For the last time, Miss, are you coming?” Cousins asked.

“No, I’ll take a raft,” was her reply.

At that he shrugged his shoulders and climbed into the boat. He gave an order as the
Trikkala
rolled to port. They let go the falls when the wave top was almost touching her keel. As she hit the water something jumped out of the boat and an instant later I saw the cook’s tortoise-shell cat clinging to the trailing falls. The water swirled away from us and the boat slid, out of sight into the inky trough. I went to the rail. The
Trikkala
reached the height of her roll and then I felt myself swinging down into the sea again. Cousins’ boat came up to meet me. The oars were out and they were fending off for dear life. She looked dry enough. “Mr. Cousins?” I yelled as the boat came almost level with the rail to which I clung. “I’m cutting the port raft into the water. Have your boat stand by it till you know whether it’s seaworthy or not.” He gave no sign of acknowledgment. I don’t know whether he heard me. But it was all I could do. “Bert,” I called. “Give me a hand with that raft. We’ll use the starboard one.”

We scrambled aft as fast as we could. And as I slithered along the deck, the tortoise-shell cat shot ahead of me and disappeared down the after-companion way towards the galley. I was to see that cat again—but in very different
circumstances. I reached the raft and began hacking at the lower ropes with my clasp knife. Bert swarmed up on to the deckhousing and begun slashing at the upper ties.

Suddenly Halsey’s voice cut through the almost deserted ship. “Mr. Hendrik! Mr. Rankin?” he roared through his megaphone. “Stop those men cutting that raft clear.”

I heard them coming at us along the deck as I cut the last of the lower ropes. They were shouting to us. I stood back. The mate was leading. He had picked up an iron bar and his eyes gleamed viciously. The scar on his cheek showed white in the swinging lights. The ship rolled. I saw Jennifer Sorrel clutch a rail by the bridge. Halsey was hurrying down the bridge ladder. The tall shaft of the funnel, the mast, the rusty bulk of the bridge—all swung in a dizzy arc. Hendrik clutched at a storm rope. Then as the ship rolled back he came on again. There was murder in his eyes. I slipped my rifle from my shoulder. Why didn’t they want the raft cut clear? The question flashed through my brain to justify my action. “Stand back!” I ordered, and gripped my rifle in both hands. The mate still came on. I thumbed forward the safety catch and worked the bolt. “Halt—or I fire!” I ordered.

He stopped then. So did Rankin. There was a frightened look on his white face. Surely he had reported the condition of that boat to the Captain? “Go on, Bert,” I called, “Cut her away.”

“Okay,” Corp,” he answered. “I’m on the last rope. Here she comes.”

There was a grating sound over my head. I looked up. The raft had begun to move. And then, with a roar, it was away. A heavy burst of spray told us that it was in the sea. As the
Trikkala
dipped to port I saw it floating like a dark platform in the boiling crest of a wave. Then it vanished. There was no sign of the boat.

Halsey was level with his mate now. He stopped. “Corporal—you realise this ship is sinking,” he said. “You’re endangering the lives——”

“Clearing that raft wasn’t endangering lives, Captain Halsey,” I said. “Number Two boat was unseaworthy. Surely Rankin told you that?”