Convoy (34 page)

‘And she’ll slow down to let the U-boat dive just before the point when the
Echo
’s lookouts can see astern of her,’ Hobson commented. ‘If that’s what they’re up to they’re cool customers; you’ve got to admit that.’

Yorke, remembering some of the tricks that Jemmy had played with his submarine in the confined waters of the Mediterranean, simply nodded, and then could not help himself adding bitterly: ‘It’s like stealing money from your mother’s purse. She trusts you and never counts the coins.’

‘Aye, you’re right. We should never trust neutrals. We should make ’em sail on their own and take their chance. Haven’t the Germans offered them a safe passage?’

‘Yes, the “Philadelphia Route” they call it. Steam with navigation and accommodation lights on at night and either the name or the flag painted fifteen feet high on the side and illuminated at night… Trouble is that in daylight a ship’s a ship, and in overcast weather very few of these U-boats can be sure of their position within fifty miles. So a few days of cloud without a sun or star sight and the merchant ship gets north of its assumed position and the U-boat south, and they’re together. A quick look through the periscope shows a merchant ship – no hope of seeing the name or flag on the side if it’s a bow shot or visibility is bad. And Berlin gets an angry protest over a torpedoed neutral, Doenitz gets a kick, the U-boat commander gets a kick…so neutrals prefer Allied convoys: much safer – the figures show that. And anyway most of them are making their money by chartering to Britain or America.’

Yorke’s arms were aching and he was just going to lower his binoculars when he saw the
Penta
’s bow wave begin to grow smaller. He glanced at his watch, looked again until there was only the hint of water swirling at the stem, and noted that the Swede had taken three minutes to slow from fifteen knots to seven.

‘Anyone would think he was a cruise ship,’ Hobson said sourly. ‘Slow down gently so you don’t upset the passengers…’

‘Would you expect him to slow more quickly?’ Yorke asked.

‘Of course. Doubt if they’re using engine-room telegraphs – none of us are these days. Simply pick up the phone and tell the engine room to drop to whatever revolutions you want for the speed. But she must be dropping a few revs at a time – sort of thing you’d do if you were towing and wanted to keep a strain on the cable. Seems daft to juggle around like that: I could just imagine what our chief engineer would say!’

The
Echo
was continuing her turn in a great circle that would bring her up on the Swede’s starboard quarter. Yorke could imagine the binoculars in the frigate which would be trained on the
Penta
; he could almost hear the monotonous ‘Ping…ping…ping…ping’ of the Asdic and soon, as she slowed down, the reports from the hydrophone operator of ‘HE’, which meant ‘high explosive’ to the Army, but to the Navy meant ‘hydrophone effect’, or what grandpa heard through his eartrumpet.

The frigate going close alongside the bulky merchant ship looked like a sleek greyhound loping alongside a St Bernard – and Johnny was taking it close, risking the curious suction effect that drew ships together when they were steaming close on the same course.

Johnny was busy – but he would probably leave conning the ship to his first lieutenant while he talked to the Swedes on the loudhailer, listening all the while to the Asdic pings and the hydrophone operator’s reports… Although the Swedes would not know it, the guns’ crews would be closed up ready for action, depth charges would be ready for the quick lob that started them on their way down to the depth where the pressure of the water on the pre-set hydrostatic valves sent them off.

Now the
Echo
seemed to be slowing down. Johnny was dropping astern to round up on the other side with the minimum underwater disturbance to upset the Asdic operators, and then coming along the Swede’s port side before swinging away as if quite innocently continuing his sweep back and forth across the stern of the convoy.

Now a shout from the radio cabin, and Yorke ran across to listen. Johnny was reporting to the commodore using the radio-telephone on low power. He had asked the ship if she needed engineering assistance and been assured it was only dirty fuel clogging the filters and blocking the injectors. The problem would recur until the ship could pump out and take on fresh bunkers. The commodore acknowledged himself: Yorke recognized the clipped voice and the question; ‘Anything else to report?’ and Johnny Gower’s unambiguous, ‘No, sir.’

As a bitterly disappointed Yorke turned away he bumped into Hobson, who had been listening to the exchange and said ruefully: ‘Looks as though we were wrong, eh?’

Yorke was thankful for the tactful ‘we’. Had it been anyone else but Johnny Gower he would have suspected the Asdic and hydrophone operators were asleep or, more likely, improperly instructed.

‘When the Swede saw the
Echo
coming,’ Yorke said slowly, thinking aloud, ‘could she have tipped off the U-boat so he stopped and dived deep? So that when the Echo came up alongside the Swede the U-boat was in fact a mile or so astern and two or three hundred feet down?’

‘Could be,’ Hobson said. ‘No trouble at all, I should say. But if he was stopped and dived a mile astern would the
Echo
’s Asdic pick him up?’

Yorke shook his head and continued to think aloud, hoping Hobson would be able to help. ‘Not with that damned Swede’s twin screws and bulk so close. But how could the Swede have tipped off the U-boat to dive deep and stop?’

They’ll have a way,’ Hobson said. ‘It can’t be too difficult, the way noise travels under water.’

‘Yes, a couple of thumps on the hull with a big sledge- hammer – they’d hear that in the U-boat. The only way we’ll ever find out what’s going on is to get on board the
Penta
for a few hours.’

Yorke looked up to find Hobson staring at him. ‘Aye’ the Yorkshireman said, ‘that’s the only way. They do say the best way of proving your wife’s adultery is to catch her in bed with the other bloke.’

The
Penta
passed slowly – she was making only a knot more than the convoy – until she regained her position ahead of the
Marynal
; then she turned a few degrees until she was back in her position, midway between the
Marynal
and the leader of the column, and slowed down.

Then Captain Hobson ordered the cadet to hoist the ‘W’ flag for medical assistance and call up the
Echo
, which was making a sweep over to the starboard side of the convoy. Yorke in the meantime was in the chartroom drawing up a list of men’s names. There was no need to call for volunteers from among the DEMS gunners, and the two men he needed from the
Marynal
(actually only one was needed; but he was proposing to ask for the young cadet, Reynolds) would be chosen by Hobson.

It seemed only a moment later that a cadet was warning him that the
Echo
was closing fast and Yorke snatched the page on which he had scribbled a few notes and ran up to the monkey island, taking the loudhailer microphone from Jenkins.

‘We’ll soon be known as “Typhoid Mary-nal” sir,’ Jenkins said poker-faced.

‘Yes,’ Yorke said. ‘I’m so worried about you all catching it that you’ll probably leave the ship tonight.’

Yorke turned from a flabbergasted Jenkins to look down at the
Echo
, to be greeted by Johnny Gower’s voice booming: ‘Rub Gentian violet on it, Ned, and take two aspirin.’

‘That patient is dead,’ Yorke said into the microphone. ‘You didn’t see or hear any congestion of the lungs, I presume.’

‘Absolutely nothing. Any more ideas?’

It took Yorke less than three minutes to describe what he was going to do, and another minute while arrangements were made for the times of a listening watch on the lifeboat radio frequency. Finally Gower gave a farewell wave, with the warning: ‘All bets are off if there’s no attack tonight… Anyway, toodle-pip for now.’

In the chartroom with the door shut Yorke went over his plans with Hobson, who was torn between admiration for the plan and a genuine fear for the lieutenant’s safety.

‘Now, lad, what do you want from me?’

‘The motor lifeboat and whichever engineer you can spare to make sure the motor keeps on working; Cadet Reynolds is not important but he’s a lively lad and could be useful to me; what revolvers you have; and a fake boat built during the night so that no one notices tomorrow that the motor lifeboat is missing from the davits. That is, if there’s an attack tonight.’

‘And if we’re not one of the ships hit,’ Hobson added gloomily. ‘Very well, I’ll have the boatswain check over the boat; fuel, water, food…’

‘And flares,’ Yorke interrupted. ‘Lots of flares. A Verey pistol if you have a spare one, plenty of smoke flares, and some five-star red rockets.’

‘Pass that pad,’ Hobson said. ‘I know better than to rely on my memory.’ He wrote for a minute or two. ‘The boatswain must work with the cover still on the boat, otherwise the Swedes might see him,’ he said to himself, ‘the carpenter can fake up a boat with battens and canvas and a coat of grey paint. We can use the same canvas cover. By the way,’ he said, looking up at Yorke, ‘let me have the boat back if you can. I don’t begrudge it, but it’s all the bloody paperwork afterwards that gets me down. Now, I’ve only got four revolvers. Rifles are no good, I suppose?’

Yorke shook his head. ‘No, we’re survivors, don’t forget, not a boarding party! The revolvers must be hidden in our pockets.’ Suddenly he remembered Jenkins’ warning about the Captain’s fascination for the grenade projector. A projector must have grenades to project, and a Mills 36 grenade fitted into a duffel coat pocket without making a great bulge. ‘That grenade projector… I’d like to have some of the grenades.’

Hobson’s face fell. ‘Well, yes, I suppose…but can I get them replaced in Freetown? I don’t like having a projector and no grenades. Never know when we’ll get air attacks.’

‘How many grenades have you got on board?’

‘I don’t rightly know. A couple of cases, I think, however many that would be.’

‘I’ll make sure you get four cases when we reach Freetown.’

‘Aye, they’d be much appreciated. Pity we haven’t more revolvers for you.’

‘Well, if you can let us have those four. I have one, both my signalmen have them, and the DEMS gunners might have some. We could do with some knives, though. Nice sturdy ones that’d work like bayonets.’

‘The Chief Officer will see to that: we’ve got just the thing in deck knives. We had a gross delivered just before we sailed. They’ll need sharpening, of course; they’re not supposed to be stabbers.’

‘And the lifeboat radio.’

‘Yes, Sparks can check that over and show one of your chaps how it works. Not very complicated, it has the instructions in the lid. It’s fitted into a special floating suitcase, you know.’

‘Old clothes for me. If one of the mates has an ancient jacket that fits. It isn’t that I mind getting my own clothes wet, but they have the wrong sort of stripes…’

Hobson looked at him critically. ‘Not old enough to be a chief officer yet; promotion’s slow in the Merchant Service. Second mate would do. Yes, Second Officer Yorke. You’re about the same build as the second mate, and he can give you a spare uniform coat. You’ll have to buy him a new one sometime, but he’s more likely to shop at Gardiner’s than Gieves.’

‘Gardiner’s?’ Yorke inquired, puzzled at the reference.

‘They fit out more Merchant Navy officers than anyone else. I bet half a dozen kids a day arrive there straight from school to be fitted out as cadets to join their first ship.’

Hobson read out Yorke’s list and then said: ‘You’re relying on the DEMS gunners to handle the boat. They’re worse than useless with oars. And you leave me with very few gunners. Why don’t you take some of my chaps? Some of them are handy with their fists.’

‘They might get killed.’

‘They might get killed if the
Marynal
is torpedoed. I think the thought might have crossed their minds. Should I ask for volunteers? How many?’

Yorke thought quickly. Five DEMS gunners, with Watkins and Jenkins, could handle the small arms and grenades. Seven, and Reynolds and himself made nine. The engineer ten. Supposing he took four merchant seamen? That made fourteen. ‘Let me have four, Captain. Mix up brain and brawn!’

‘Launching the boat,’ Hobson said. ‘It’s going to have to be done at the rush if you don’t want that Swede to notice us slowing down too much.’

‘He’s bound to notice,’ Yorke said, ‘and I don’t fancy launching a boat half full of DEMS gunners while the ship has any way on. Lowering the boat and then boarding it down a rope ladder will take too long. It’ll be a dark night so when the attack is finished (if there
is
an attack) you can haul out between the columns. Remember there are only four ships in the next column now, and you can weave around and pretend your steering’s gone wrong. Then stop with the ship broadside on to the wind and sea so we have a lee on the port side. And of course the
Marynal
hides the boat from anyone in the convoy. Once we get that damned little engine started we’ll clear off and you can get back into the convoy while the carpenter spends the rest of the night making the fake lifeboat.’

‘The marine superintendent wasn’t joking when he told me you might have some odd requests,’ Hobson said amiably, obviously enjoying the change in routine. ‘Anything else?’

‘Yes,’ Yorke said with a grin, ‘a few thermos flasks of hot cocoa in the boat, some fifty tins of Player’s, the round metal ones that are sealed, and some boxes of matches in a screwtop jar.’

‘And a case of Scotch?’

‘No,’ Yorke said firmly, ‘no booze. The cocoa will keep the lads warm and so will rowing.’

As soon as it was dark fourteen men assembled on the boat deck a few feet abaft the
Marynal
’s single motor lifeboat while several other seamen removed the canvas cover, let go the gripes and swung the boat out on the davits so that it hung over the water, ready for lowering.