McClure saw it, too, at the same moment—-a giant German battle cruiser lying broadside to the harbor entrance and every gun belching forth fire at the allied fleet outside!
Responding to the control of her commander, theMonitorswung off sharply to port and drove straight for the cruiser.
McClure's right hand groped for the torpedo button as he sighted on the German battle cruiser. He released a torpedo!
Confident of security behind the mass of mines and submarine traps spread ingeniously across the harbor entrance, devoting their attention almost solely to the artillery duel with the dreadnoughts outside, the German cruiser knew naught of the stealthy torpedo from the daringMonitoruntil it shot suddenly forward below the surface of the water, revealed in the glare of her own searchlight. But it was too late then to avoid the deadly missile and it struck home abaft the engines and directly at the after magazine chambers. With a great roar and the upheaval of a mighty column of water the torpedo exploded against the side of the warship. One carefully aimed shot from the leading American submarine had laid low a ten-thousand-ton cruiser!
"Quick, down we go!" shouted McClure to his navigating officer. TheMonitorshot down now out of sight, and the helm was thrown hard to starboard. That one shot was sufficient to apprise the Germans of the presence of submarines and McClure realized full well he would be a marked man next time he showed his periscopes above water.
It was in mid-channel that theMonitorventured to the surface again. The periscopes showed another vessel, a second line battleship of the pre-dreadnought type, off the starboard beam. Undaunted by the hail of lead slugs that splashed the sea all around, theMonitorswerved and ran straight for the battleship's bows.
"This one ought to settle scores for that poor old mine sweeper!" yelled the Yankee skipper as he sighted through the periscope glass on the wide target in front of him not more than six hundred yards away.
"Give it to 'em, Mack! Give it to 'em!" cried Jack.
Again, a torpedo leaped from the bowcap of theMonitorand hurled its ton and a quarter of steel gray mass directly upon the port bow of the German craft.
As theMonitordived away again her captain beheld the battleship listing badly, going down by the bow at a rapid rate.
"Two strikes!" he exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Some night!" gasped Ted as he clutched the foot rail that ran up the side of the conning tower.
"And some battle!" responded Jack at his side.
With engines slowed down theMonitorran along a hundred and fifty yards and then turned her nose upward again for another stab at the German fleet. As her periscopes cleft the crest of the waves again and she emerged into the arena of activity McClure caught sight of a destroyer off the starboard bow not more than five hundred feet away. A searchlight on the forward deck of the German vessel swept the water in front of theMonitorwith a long white finger of light that fell in a moment upon the eyes of the American submarine.
"A destroyer driving directly at us at full tilt with all her guns in action!" roared McClure.
At the same moment he touched off another torpedo; but, in his eagerness for another "bull's eye" the American commander had fired too soon, and the torpedo shot past the destroyer, missing the mark by ten yards.
In retaliation, the forward guns of the German craft belched forth a salvo of leaden hail that followed the path of the searchlight's rays directly upon the eyes of theMonitor. With unerring aim the German gunners had found their mark. A sharp crash; a roar as the water above theMonitor'sconning tower was converted into a boiling maelstrom, and the impact of steel against steel betokened the fact that a shot had struck home in the superstructure of the attacking sub.
"Our periscope's cutoff clean as a whistle," exclaimed McClure as he backed away from the tube through which he had been observing the approach of the enemy craft.
"Quick, lower away!" he commanded.
Shipping ballast in all her tanks, theMonitorbegan dropping into the depths.
"Look, look!" yelled Jack as he pointed to the steel dome roof of the conning tower.
In consternation McClure and Ted followed the extended finger to a spot in the steel casement where a jagged hole had been torn by a fragment of the German shell fire and where now a thin stream of water was percolating through the crevice.
"We've got to submerge, boys; that destroyer is almost on top of us now!" cried McClure in frenzied tones. "Get down into the control chamber—-hurry!" he commanded.
Ted dived down the hatch as fast as he could scramble, followed closely by Jack, who observed by now a steady stream of water pouring into the turret of theMonitorand splashing on clear through to the flooring of the chamber deep down into the hold.
As Jack lowered himself away into the inner chamber amidships theMonitorwas clutched suddenly by a terrific explosion that rocked the already crippled submarine with the force of a hurricane and swamped it as though by a tidal wave. She quivered under the whip of the mighty lash of steel from above.
The German destroyer, driving full speed at the spot where they had sighted the periscopes of the American tormentor, had crossed directly over theMonitorand dropped a depth bomb that had exploded nearly upon the turret of the doughty fighter!
A great gap was torn in the turret through which the sea swept in a torrent. Fighting madly for the exit hatch into the chamber below, McClure was dashed off his feet by the lurch of the smitten submarine and sprawled against the steel side of the conning tower. With the spray dashing in his face Jack had a fleeting glimpse of his commander, and by a superhuman effort drew himself back into the turret against the mass of water. Hurling himself forward, he groped about for his captain and found him finally on the floor of the turret. Exerting all his strength, he succeeded in hurling "Little Mack" down into the control chamber.
Blinded by the swirling water, the youth dived headlong for the opening in a mad effort to escape the flood and get below that he might shut off the crushed turret from the rest of the submarine and hold the deluge in check.
"Close the steel partition!" he yelled to Ted as he leaped for the opening.
His chum, grasping the air lever, rolled shut the heavy curtain, but in such precipitate haste that it caught Jack just above the knees and pinned him fast. There he hung head down with the water pouring in all around his body.
"Pull me through, Ted! Hurry! Pull me through!" gasped the young executive officer, as he winced in pain from the smashing blow dealt his limbs by the steel partition.
Grasping his chum under the armpits, with the water splashing in his face, Ted braced himself against the side of the control chamber and pulled with all his might. Inch by inch Jack's body was dragged through the aperture, Navigating Officer Binns leaping to the assistance of Ted and hauling away until finally Jack's limbs cleared the opening and the steel partition closed entirely, shutting off the volume of water above.
"Are you hurt, chum?" asked Ted.
"Yes, but don't mind me," came the reply, as Jack sprawled out with both legs hanging limp and useless. Gritting his teeth to stifle a groan, Jack drew himself up into a sitting posture. By his side lay McClure unconscious. All around them flowed water, working its way fore and aft through the submarine.
"Go aft, Ted; find out how things are in the engine room," directed the injured executive officer. "And you, Binns, make an inspection forward."
The two officers hurried to make an investigation, returning soon to report that the boat had not suffered from the depth bomb so far as could be ascertained except for the damage to the conning tower. Jack directed that theMonitorbe submerged until she rested on the bottom of the channel. The vessel dropped away until it came to rest shortly with the depth dial showing one hundred and forty-two feet.
McClure, stunned by a blow on the head, sustained when he was hurled against the side of the conning tower, was carried away still unconscious to his bunk. Jack, his limbs bruised, torn and partially paralyzed, insisted upon remaining at his post of duty and directed the dressing of his wounds.
"I'll be all right in a little bit," he murmured in response to inquiries.
Ten minutes passed, twenty and then a half hour, while the crippled submarine lay inactive with a foot of water in her hull and her commanding officers seriously injured. And then came an added horror when the electric lights throughout the vessel began slowly to fade away into darkness. Chief Engineer Blaine came hurrying into the control chamber:
"Batteries short circuited by the saltwater!" he exclaimed in a tone of dismay.
"And that means chlorine gas," added Jack.
"Yes, we notice it already aft," said Blaine all righted.
The pungent odor of the deadly fumes swept into the control chamber as he spoke!
The salt water worked its way into the batteries of theMonitorthe deadly acid was generated and the gas permeated the air. Gasping for life, half the engine crew retreated forward, covering their eyes and noses to escape the asphyxiating vapor. With bloodshot eyes Chief Engineer Blaine stumbled into the control chamber.
"Impossible to stay back there longer!" he exclaimed brokenly, addressing himself to Hammond.
"Any chance of putting a bilge pump on the water?" asked Jack.
"Not a chance in the world; no man can work back there," replied the engineer.
By now the gas had increased in such volume that every man in the conning tower base was choking and coughing. The only thing to do in such an emergency was to roll shut the steel partition shutting off the engine room from the remainder of the vessel. To make matters worse the lights throughout theMonitorwent out, leaving the vessel in utter darkness.
"Every man out of the engine room?" asked Jack.
"I'll find out," answered Blaine.
In the darkness the chief engineer called off the names of his men, getting a response, one by one, from the electricians, oilers and machinists who composed his crew. Not a man was missing, but many of them were suffering from the effects of near-strangulation. Jack ordered the opening of the reserve oxygen tanks, and this gave the sufferers temporary relief.
"Come here, Ted!" called Jack out of the darkness.
Groping his way to where his chum sat propped against the side of the conning tower, Ted bent over the prostrate form of the ship's executive officer.
"I'm growing weak, chum," said Jack feebly. "My limbs are numb and I feel so cold. In case I go under keep theMonitordown here about half an hour and then take your chances on going up. Better to be taken prisoners than die here like a lot of rats in a trap. Do you understand, Ted?"
His teeth chattering with mingled fear and cold—-fear for the life of his old Brighton roommate and cold because of the falling temperature due to the cutting off of all electrical energy—-Ted answered in the affirmative.
"I guess that's about all we can do, chum," he added.
Ted and Navigating Officer Binns conferred together in the control chamber.
"Better to go up and take our chances on the surface than to remain here under these conditions," counseled Binns.
"I agree with you, Mr. Binns," replied Ted.
And so, after another ten minutes' wait, the two decided to empty the ballast tanks.
In another moment the weight of water filling the ballast tanks was being thrown off under the force of the compressed air and theMonitorlifted off the bed of the harbor. Striking a match, Binns leaned over the depth dial, watching the fluctuating hand that marked foot by foot the progress of theMonitorupward. To lighten the load as much as possible and counterbalance the weight of water in the wrecked conning tower Ted released the torpedoes remaining in the tubes. In a few minutes the indicator hand pointed to zero and theMonitor'sofficers realized that now their craft was riding awash with her deck fully exposed.
Making his way forward through the gloom, Ted sprang to the hatch and raised the lid. As the morning light streamed in through the opening a muffled cheer resounded from the interior of the sub. Vaulting up the ladder, Ted leaped on deck and looked around him. There to starboard, not more than five hundred feet away, loomed a giant cruiser. From her stern tailrail trailed a familiar emblem.
"The Stars and Stripes!" exclaimed the youth as his comrades swarmed up about him from the hold of the prison ship.
A glorious victory had been won by the allied fleets. All about theMonitorwere warships of the American, English, and French nations. Reducing the land fortifications after a terrific bombardment, the combined fleet had "rushed" the harbor in the wake of their mine-sweepers, engaged and overwhelmed the larger units of the German fleet there assembled, and driven some of the smaller craft into the Zeebrugge Canal. Thousands of marines and blue-jackets, formed into landing parties, had been set upon shore and were now taking formal possession of the German stronghold.
"Hurrah for theMonitor!" the cry reverberated over the waters as the plucky American submarine was made fast alongside the U.S.S.Chicagoand the story of her night's exploits became heralded about. Willing hands assisted in reclaiming the wounded and gas victims from the hold of the ship. Jack and his captain, the latter still unconscious, suffering from a severe concussion of the brain, were lifted over the side and carried to the cruiser's sick bay for their wounds to be dressed. It was found upon examination that the ligaments and muscles in Jack's limbs had been severely torn and the flesh lacerated, but that his injuries, while painful, were not serious.
Great jubilation reigned on all the ships. A band on the forward deck of the Chicago was playing "Stars and Strips Forever," while from a nearby British battleship came the strains of "Rule Britannia." Their last rendezvous on the Flemish coast wrested from them, the backbone of the German U-boat campaign was broken by the concerted land and sea attack. Several of the allied warships had gone down in the spectacular engagement of the night, but a notable victory had been won, and the boys of the navy were in raptures over their successful engagement.
Later in the day Jack was transferred to a hospital ship. All the allied wounded from the sea battle off Zeebrugge were to be sent to England. Captain McClure was grievously wounded. Jack would not be able to resume active service for some time, so his surgeon said, and would probably be invalided home.
In due time Jack arrived in London, where for a time he was a patient in one of the American-endowed hospitals. Within a week he was joined by Ted. The latter had been granted a leave of absence. Together the two young lieutenants took passage on a steamship bound for New York, and, braving the perils of the submarine-infested sea, crossed to their own dear old U.S.A.—-"the home of the free and the land of the brave."
And now we shall leave them. Suffice to say that after a several months' sojourn at home they returned again to the field of activity to resume their places in the U.S. fleet and continue in service until the end of the war, reaping new honors for themselves, their alma mater and their country.
Of course, before they went back to rejoin "Little Mack," Bill Witt,Mike Mowrey and all their old seafaring mates, they visited Brighton.
It was late afternoon of an October day when the young lieutenants, spic and span in their uniforms, walked briskly up old Pine Street to the campus of Brighton. Many of the students were loafing about the campus awaiting the ringing of the dinner gong when the boys arrived.
Hardly had they climbed the gray stone steps leading to the campus, however, before they were recognized.
"Hurrah for Jack Hammond and Ted Wainwright!" the cry resounded. Word of their arrival spread through the dormitories and soon a mob of chattering schoolboys surrounded the two young officers. As the dinner gong sounded, the heroes were hoisted to the shoulders of their old chums and carried into the dining room. There they met all the "profs" and were compelled to hold an impromptu reception while the dinner waited.
The study period that night at Brighton was set back an hour. Brighton had her heroes at home, and she was doing them full honor. Many of the boys had enlisted in the various branches of service and were now "over there." But those who remained held a joyous reception in honor of the two whose stirring deeds had brought such signal honor to the school that had sent them forth.
A few minutes after ten o'clock, when all the boys had been rung to their rooms and lights were out, two young naval lieutenants stood at the foot of the campus, gazing back at the facade of the familiar old dormitory, its windows framing the heads of many youths who were shouting a farewell to their old friends.
The boys stood in silence contemplating the picture—-listening to the chorus of good-bys.
Ted was first to speak.
"I guess it was worth while, chum—-our going away to serve our country and coming back to get a reception like this," he faltered.
"And then some!" came Jack's answer. "For Brighton and for Uncle Sam!That's us!"