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CHAPTER V
SOME OF THE MYSTERIES OF A SUBMARINE
With a click the door of their prison cabin opened and a seaman informed them that their breakfast was ready. They passed through the narrow door, and edged their way along a tortuous path that led to the rear, where they entered what might be called a miniature galley, on one side of which was a narrow shelf containing food of various descriptions.
There was room only for the attendant to pass while they were seated. An abundance of the best food was served, cereals, and even fruit, forming part of the menu. Each of these vessels carry from twenty-two to thirty men, but there were in sight in the dining room only ten, besides the cook and waiter.
After the meal, the captain inquired of the officer at the main hatch whether they would be permitted to go on deck.
"I have no orders," he replied.
Meanwhile, the boys had an opportunity to investigate the mysteries of the interior, for it was well lighted.
"What are those long drums ahead there?" asked Alfred.
"I think they are the casings which carry the torpedoes," replied the captain. "If you look beyond you will see the rear ends of the tubes which receive the torpedoes. The cylinders in sight hold the torpedoes until they are ready to be placed in the tubes and shot out of them."
"You have orders to go on deck," the under officer at the bottom of the hatch now informed them.
This was an invitation to which they quickly responded. They ascended, and found the sun hidden, and the sea about them calm. Glancing across the broad expanse of water, not a sail was in sight. It was a cold, gray morning, ordinarily uninviting weather, but after the house of confinement it was enjoyed to the fullest extent.
"Down below!" shouted a voice.
The boys looked around in surprise, for they had been on deck less than ten minutes.
"Clear the deck!" shouted the same voice. The boys, with the captain, were hustled forward into the conning tower, and the iron door closed with a bang. The boys were permitted to stop only long enough to see two men turn eight swinging bolts, which hung about the margins of the doors, and quickly screw them up against the jamb.
The lieutenant was leaning over a narrow table on which was a chart, and gazing through a crystal-covered port in the front of the conning tower. A bell tinkled, machinery began to turn and impart its vibration to the ship, and it was again a living thing. It glided forward with the same rhythmic noises for a half-hour, and then two bells were heard.
The character of the sounds from the machinery changed; they seemed to move forward with less effort, and as they felt the same inclination in the motion of the ship, all were now satisfied that she was again submerging. Fortunately, they were not confined to their room, and, although no verbal orders had been given for the various operations required to handle the vessel, the prisoners had an opportunity to judge of what was going on.
Thus, when the signal was given to change the motive power from the internal combustion engines to electricity, they could see the engine stop, and an attendant shift the clutch which engaged the electric motors. A dial swinging over a card alongside a pair of levers indicated the direction of movement, while another gave not only the inclination of the ship, but its speed as well.
These things were very fascinating to the boys, but their attention was now attracted to a still more interesting scene. A bell forward gave two short, quick snaps. Four men sprang forward and stood at attention, two on each side of the tube at the right of the hold.
"The indicator shows that the submarine is turning," said the captain. The boys watched the indicator; it had swung around almost half-way.
"There,—look at the inclinometer," said Ralph. "It is moving upward–"
"Ting! ting!" Two more sharp bells forward. The cylinder was off the torpedo, and it lay before them exposed.
Three bells more; and now there was feverish haste. An oval door in the wall ahead was swung open, revealing a round, black hole.
"That is the torpedo tube," said the captain quietly.
The torpedo was moved back three feet, and then again carried forward on its truck so that the end of the torpedo entered the tube.
One bell more. The torpedo moved into the tube, the breech block, which in this case was the oval door, closed, and the crew stood at attention. While thus waiting the boys glanced at the inclinometer and at the direction indicator.
"See it swing back and forth," said Alfred. "It seems to act queerly."
"Not at all," replied the captain. "Evidently we are chasing a ship which is zig-zagging, as we did, for the direction dial is constantly moving."
While thus conversing they were startled by the signal of four bells. One of the men, reaching forward, touched a button, and the signal could be heard in the conning tower. That was, evidently, to inform the commander there that all was in readiness. Everything was expectancy now. The ship still manoeuvered.
Then, without a warning of any kind, there was a singular dull sound, which seemed to shake the submarine from stem to stern.
"They have fired it," said Alfred.
"And they are putting in another one."
"If I am not mistaken it is the last one they have," suggested the captain.
"Why do you think so?" asked Alfred.
"I notice that all the cylinders with the open ends are without torpedoes, and you will notice that the one they are now putting in is the last one with the closed end," responded the captain.
"I am glad they haven't any more of them," said Ralph.
Three bells again sounded; the officer at the gun responded, and during the next two minutes of suspense, the boys were quiet, waiting for the next shot. It soon came; the ship shook as before, the breach block opened, the shell behind the torpedo was extracted, the door closed and the men stood at attention.
When the officer, who had handled the torpedoes, walked down the steps from the conning tower, the boys noticed him shake his head sadly.
"Did you notice that?" asked the captain.
"Do you mean the way he shook his head?" said Alfred.
"Yes; I am curious to get your views about that action of the officer," remarked the captain.
"That is, why he shook his head?" interjected Ralph.
"Yes," answered the captain. "Do you think he looked discouraged because the shot failed in its mission, or because it went home successfully? That is the problem."
The boys were quiet for a few moments. Ralph was the first to speak: "Well, I'll bet the torpedo didn't hit the ship, and he feels cut up over it, as it was the last one they had."
"I don't agree with you," rejoined Alfred. "It struck the ship and sunk it, and the fellow feels so badly about it that he shook his head the way he did when he thought of the suffering it caused. Don't you agree with me?" said Alfred, addressing the captain.
The captain could not repress a slight laugh as: he answered: "I must confess you advance good arguments in both directions; but really, I am of the opinion that either torpedo didn't get in its work."
"Why do you think the first one failed?"
"If the first one had succeeded, they would not have shot the second, would they?" replied the captain.
"No; I don't think they would, seeing they had only one more left," remarked Ralph. "But why do you think the last one was no more successful?"
"I infer it from the following circumstances: It takes, on an average, a minute for a torpedo to reach its mark, after it leaves the torpedo tube. The officer in the tower is in a position where he can see the effect of the shot. If the torpedo struck, however favorable the blow, it would take at least fifteen or twenty minutes for the ship to go down. Sometimes the bulkheads will keep the ship afloat an hour or more. In fact, there are records of ships which have been torpedoed, that were actually towed into harbors and saved," answered the captain.
"But I do not see how that is any sign that the torpedo missed," replied Alfred inquiringly.
"Probably you did not notice the period that elapsed after the last shot, and the time the officer came down the tower hatch?" remarked the captain.
"No, I did not observe," replied Alfred.
"You remember, do you not, that as soon as the last torpedo was launched, the officer went up into the conning tower, and that within a minute, or not exceeding two minutes, he again came down the stairway, and shook his head in such a disconsolate manner?" continued the captain.
"Well, yes; you may be right in that," responded Alfred.
"Then, I inferred this," said the captain, "that the lieutenant had had ample opportunity to observe whether or not the shot went home, and, as it had not landed, he reported to the officer the failure. If the shot had struck he would have known it before the officer left the conning tower to come down. Do you get my idea?" asked the captain.
"That seems to answer the question, to my mind, that it wasn't a hit," said Ralph.
"Well, it doesn't quite satisfy me," replied Alfred. "The lieutenant might have told him that the shot hit the ship, and that it was going down, and that's what made him feel so badly about it."
The captain could not help feeling amused at Alfred's argument, as he replied: "I must admit that your view is logical, and I am also willing to assent that the question is one, which, in the absence of actual knowledge, could be settled in one way only."
"How is that?" asked Ralph.
"By knowing the mental condition and attitude of the officer who came down the hatchway. If he happened to be a humane person he would regret the loss of life, and show it, probably, by his actions. On the other hand, if he should be devoid of the finer feelings, and be a mere slave to duty, it is more than likely that he would shake his head discouragingly, to learn that the torpedo failed in its mission," was the captain's final word on the subject.
"Now that they are out of torpedoes, what do you suppose they will do?" asked Ralph.
"Go home; I suppose," replied Alfred.
"Unless they have a base somewhere on the coast," replied the captain.
"Where is the most likely place for such a base?" asked Ralph.
"That is the enigma, of course. It has been believed that the Germans have a base somewhere along the northern coast of Spain," said the captain.
"What are the reasons for thinking so?" asked Alfred.
"One of them is that some of the Spaniards are said to be more or less friendly to the Germans, and, furthermore, there are few ports or harbors on the north coast, hence the shipping to Spain in the southern waters of the Bay of Biscay is very small, a condition which would help to keep a base along the coast line at one or more points."
"But we ought to know in the next day or two whether they have such a base," said Ralph.
"Yes; it will be the opportunity now for us to make some observation which will tell us whether we are going to Germany, or not," said the captain with a grin.
Situated, as they were, below decks, with no instruments but the direction indicator, and the inclinometer in sight, it was impossible to judge of the direction they were going, for it was evident that the submarine was now moving ahead at full speed.
"It will be, probably, twenty-four hours before we are able to get any information as to our destination," said the captain.
"Do you intend to ask some of the men?" inquired Alfred.
"No; that would be fruitless. It is not at all likely they will venture any information upon a subject of that character," replied the captain.
"Then how would it be possible to learn anything about where we are going?" asked Ralph.
"We are now somewhere in the Bay of Biscay, and I infer that we must be about a hundred and fifty miles from the Spanish coast. To reach that at the rate we are going, would take at least ten hours, for I assume that the vessel is capable of at least ten miles an hour. Then, we must take into consideration the possible meeting with vessels, in which case we must submerge, and thus go much slower," said the captain.
"Then, if they have a base anywhere along the coast we ought to be there before tomorrow at this time?" ventured Alfred.
"That is exactly what I mean," answered the captain.
CHAPTER VI
GROPING THROUGH THE ENGLISH CHANNEL
There was a steady pulsation of the engines during the entire afternoon without cessation until five o'clock, when the submarine submerged and continued under water for an hour. The three captives had now learned a great many of the manoeuvers incident to the diving operations, the signals accompanying each action, and studied with the greatest diligence and care the direction indicator and inclinometer.
"I have been noticing the indicator for the last hour," said Ralph, "and it didn't change once. Are we going due north?"
"The indicator that you see is not for the purpose of showing the points of the compass, but to tell whether or not there is a turning movement in the ship. If, for instance, the rudder should be turned to starboard or to port, the dial would swing in such a position as to show how much of a turn has been made, and no more," responded the captain.
"Suppose then, that after making a quarter turn, the ship should again go ahead on a straight line, what would happen to the dial?" asked Alfred.
"In that case the dial would again indicate that by coming back to its original position,—or, in other words, the dial would show that the ship had then assumed a new direction of sailing, and if it again changed to the right or to the left the indicator would reveal this to the observer," remarked the captain.
"I wish we had a compass," said Ralph.
"Unfortunately, they have taken our watches and pocket compasses," said the captain. "We may contrive, later on, to get a glimpse of the steering compass."
"Do you know where it is?" eagerly inquired Alfred.
"The navigating officer's instrument is in the conning tower, but it is usual, too, to have a similar instrument below, and I am sure it is located to the left of the cook's galley. It would not be safe, however, for either of us to be spying around in that quarter," responded the captain.
That night they were again locked in their narrow apartment. As they had been provided with a good meal it was not such an unpleasant experience, and they were also comforted by the feeling that the submarine was now engaged in a no more perilous duty than trying to reach some port.
That night was followed by a trying day of waiting. Singularly, they had not been permitted to ascend the hatchway stairs since the first day of their capture.
"A glance at the sun would be enough to tell us the direction," remarked the captain after they left the table at the lunch hour.
"I suppose they are keeping us down here for that purpose," suggested Alfred.
"I have thought," replied the captain, "that the very fact of keeping us in ignorance of the direction they are going is the best indication that we are making for a concealed base."
When they retired the second night the captain remarked: "It is now plain to my mind that we are on the way to Germany, or, possibly, to a base somewhere at a greater distance than Spain."
"How long would it take to make the trip to Germany?" asked Alfred.
"If we circled the British Isles and came in by way of Norway, it would mean a run of 1,400 miles. To go by way of the Channel would be about 800 miles. It would make but little difference in point of time," answered the captain.
"Why wouldn't it take longer to travel 1,400 miles?" asked Ralph.
"Because on the long route we would be able to travel four-fifths of the way on the surface, and would not have to avoid mines and nets. The Channel route is a dangerous one, requiring the utmost caution," said the captain.
The second morning Alfred was outside, as usual, consulting the instruments, when a voice remarked in response to an inquiry: "48, 10." He paid no attention to it at the time, but later on, in a conversation, remarked to the captain:
"Some one in the conning tower, this morning, said '48, 10.' What do you suppose he meant by that?"
"Glad you remembered that. Are you sure the figures you give are correct?" asked the captain eagerly.
"Sure of it," was Alfred's reply.
"Then we are near the English Channel. Good; I am glad to know that. Did you hear them refer to any other figures?" asked the captain.
"What would the other figures be?" asked Ralph.
"Of course, I can only guess. The figures you have given me unquestionably represent forty-eight degrees and ten minutes north latitude. What interests me most is to get our position east and west," said the captain.
"About what longitude are we in?" asked Ralph.
"If we are less than five degrees west we must be in the English Channel, and it would appear that they are taking the shortest route. If we should be seven or eight degrees west I should regard it as a pretty sure symptom that we are going to encircle the British Isles," remarked the captain.
Late that afternoon Ralph rushed into their little cabin and said:
"I have an idea that I can tell you the direction we are going."
"Have you heard anything?" asked the captain.
"Not a word," answered Ralph. "I have just made an observation," he continued, laughing.
"That's good," responded the captain. "I think we are sailing north by west."
"You are wrong," replied Ralph; "we are going due east."
"Are you sure?" asked the captain, exhibiting unusual interest in the news. "How did you find it out?"
"I saw the sun," said Ralph with a chuckle.
"How and where did you see it?" asked Alfred, incredulously.
"Well, I didn't exactly see the sun, but I saw a streak that came from the sun," was the reply.
"That's just as good," responded the captain. "Where did you see it?"
"I was at the indicator when an officer went up and the hatch was raised. As he didn't push it all the way down I had an idea he might soon return, so I moved up and stood between the twin tanks to the right of the steps. When the officer raised the hatch a streak of sunlight went right across the under side at the corner of the door, and I knew it couldn't come in at the front port hole," said Ralph, with a glow of pleasure in the discovery.
The captain shook his head slowly, as he said: "I am afraid this will mean an additional source of worry to all of us; it is bad enough to be locked up and subjected to the guns of vessels and warships, but it will be doubly hazardous to pass through the mine fields, and avoid the nets."
"Do you know anything about them, and how and where they are located?" asked Alfred.
"Yes, I have a pretty good knowledge of their location, and how to avoid them, although they constantly change the nets, or provide new safety outlets," said the captain.
The Steel Nets
"What do you mean by safety outlets?" asked Alfred.
"Immense steel nets are stretched across the straits from Calais to Dover, two lines, in fact, between which the vessels plying between England and France go to and fro in safety. Furthermore, war vessels guard these nets on both sides, so that it would be a difficult matter to get near the nets," said the captain.
"But submarines do seem to get through somewhere; do they not?" asked Ralph.
"Yes; owing to their ability to make the trip under water, and taking advantage of the darkness, it is sometimes the case that they get through without being entangled in the nets," he replied.
"But how do the ships that sail along the Channel get through?" asked Alfred.
"That is just what I was referring to when I spoke of safety outlets. At a certain point there is an opening through the nets at one side, through which vessels can pass into the line between the two wire cordons. The opening in the other line of nets is not directly opposite, but a mile or so off to one side, so that in order to get to the opening in the other nets, it is necessary for the ship to sail along in the safety zone between the two nets, and make a turn at right angles to get out through the second opening. That method has been found to be most effective, and is called the safety lane," responded the captain.
They were now in or near the most widely traveled part of the ocean on the western front of the continent. Thousands of ships pass and repass that zone which reaches from the southern part of Ireland to the western coast of France, and it was remarkable that the submarine was able to move along up to this time on the surface without being detected.
Before the sun had gone down that night, however, they were compelled to submerge twice, and then the mantle of night shrouded the vessel and it moved along with more boldness. On this the fourth night of captivity, they were not locked in their prison.
"I cannot account for it," said the captain. "Possibly the commander has some little human sympathy left, and does not want to drown us like rats in a cage."
Neither the captain nor the boys slept much that night. They were too much occupied with constantly watching the manoeuvers necessary on the part of the commander and his crew to prevent detection as they passed up the Channel.
"I have spent years on the Channel as a navigating officer and in charge of various types of ships in the merchant service, as well as on our own naval vessels, and I know, probably, better than the lieutenant in charge of the submarine, what the dangers are. It is my belief that the lieutenant has come over this course before, and probably knows a safe, or measurably safe route, and has taken the chances of returning, but no one, however skilful a navigator he may be, can be sure of making exactly the same course twice. The tides may be against him; he may be out of his reckonings hundreds of feet, and that is too big a margin, where a hundred feet in width is the limit through which his vessel may pass in safety."
The captain thus, in general terms, set forth the perils of the route that the commander of the submarine had taken, and stated also, very plainly, that they must now be prepared to meet the greatest of all dangers. Sleep, therefore, could not be considered.
The long and weary night at last came to an end, and the appetizing odors of the morning meal were wafted to them. Their toilets were exceedingly simple affairs, a small cake of soap, warm water, and a long towel serving for the three. They had no trouble in dressing, for their clothing had not been removed. They were obliged to dispense with the bath, for, although all these boats are provided with comforts of that kind, none of them was available to the captain and the boys, and they did not ask that any privileges be extended to them.
No sooner had breakfast been served than the machinery began to slow down until finally it ceased. Not a perceptible motion was now observed. A pulsator or two were at work, and a slight rumble due to the action of the dynamo came to their ears.
"I suppose we are now on the bottom," suggested Ralph.
"Yes; during the daytime it will be necessary to keep quiet. Even the periscope may reveal our presence," remarked the captain.
A little information as to the activities of the crew during these periods of rest may be interesting. Idleness breeds discontent and mischief. It is upon the principle that constant work encourages contentment and makes for efficiency, that the Germans require the continued activity which was shown by the occupants of the submarine.
The vessel was manned by twenty-seven officers and men. The personnel being as follows: A lieutenant, a sub-lieutenant, two under or petty officers, a physician, a cook and two oilers, two first-class machinists, and seventeen helpers, or seamen, although it was evident, as the captain expressed it, that few of the helpers had seen much sea duty.
While it is customary to divide the duties on shipboard into three watches, during the period of twenty-four hours, so as to give each squad a period of service every day at a different period, it would be difficult to carry out the same regulations on board a ship of this character.
The captain said: "I notice that they have practically two watches, one taking up the duty from midday until twelve at night, and the other from midnight to noon. Yesterday, I noticed the same shift that was on duty in the morning continued at work all the afternoon, so it is possible that every three or four days shift No. 1, which works from noon to midnight, will be changed so that for the next four days the time for their services will be from midnight to noon."
Attention is called to this method of doing duty so that the reader may understand certain events which will be referred to later.
The personnel of the shifts was also changed at intervals so that while the lieutenant during one shift would have at work a certain machinist and petty officer, during the next or second shift thereafter another machinist or petty officer would be on duty. In this manner all became efficient, for they had the opportunity afforded of being drilled and handled by different combinations of men and assistants.
