CHAPTER IXTHE ROUND-UPAn earlier chapter has told of the planning of a fleet of net-laying ships to coöperate with chasers on their drifting patrols and to surround at short notice a designated spot where a submarine had been located with hydrophones. This fleet of ships, eight in number, completed at last, arrived at Punta Delgada about the first of December. In accordance with their instructions, they commenced practicing the maneuver of proceeding at speed to a spot designated by signal from a destroyer or chaser and then surrounding it in such a way as to enable them with a minimum of lost motion to lay their lines of nets completely around the spot at a specified radius from it. This maneuver required a high order of team-work and a correspondingly large amount of drill; after a few weeks of this, however, the personnel acquired enough proficiency to make the officers feel ready to carry it out in earnest, and they grew impatient to try it on a real submarine instead of an imaginary one.Then they began to go out as planned surrounded at a distance by groups of chasers on drifting patrols. But the ocean is very large, and the days and weeks seemed long as they waited for their first chance to put this new method of hunting to the test of a real “fix.” The skippers of these ships began to complain that their time was wasted—not to mention the elaborate equipment—when the chance of picking up a scent seemed so remote. Yet enemy submarines were abroad, as was shown by the toll of merchant ships, sunk in spite of the best efforts to lead them in organized convoys through to safety. An unfortunate atmosphere of grumbling at being tied up in what appeared to be an elaborate failure began to develop and to spread from the net-laying fleet to Headquarters. Was this vast project to prove a waste of effort and a failure, after all?The enemy was gradually increasing the efficiency with which he planned and executed his submarine forays. The principal secret of this lay in the concentration of his submarine forces. Groups of five, six, or seven submarines would await a favorable moment in the conditions of ocean traffic; then proceeding together, combining their resources in the matter of detecting the approach of hostile craft, and skillfully disposing their force, they would deliver a concerted attack on a convoy, and often would take a heavy toll of tonnage.Aided now by the acquisition of the code book brought from Washington by Bela, they prepared to launch more formidable attacks than heretofore, knowing in advance the disposition of Allied ships, and thus able to choose the most vulnerable point. It was necessary first to ascertain, if possible, whether the code was actually in use as planned. Possibly the book had been missed, and the Yankees had decided to abandon the code for fear it had fallen into enemy hands. To this end all the intercepted radio traffic of the Allies was diligently copied, and every effort made to correlate it with observed movements of Allied forces by sea or air. To the great delight of the Turks, they found messages being sent which conveyed a meaning when decoded in accordance with the system set forth in the book.Early in January there came a welcome opportunity to verify the code and to satisfy the Turkish Chief of Staff that it was indeed being used by the Allies for directing naval operations. Punta Delgada was heard sending messages which when decoded proved to be addressed to a ship carrying seaplanes headed toward the Portuguese coast. These messages related to a bombing attack on the defenses of Lisbon. Eagerly the Intelligence officers at this port followed the preparations and then the progress of the attack. The seaplane carrier was next heard sending messages to the planes in the air, messages which were readily interpreted by means of the code, and finally, at the time when these dispatches had led them to expect it, the seaplanes appeared, only to be driven off by an overwhelming force of small fighting planes which, thanks to the code, had been prepared in time to prevent a single bombing plane from reaching its objective. The Intelligence officers were greatly elated, and praised the name of Bela.About a week after this incident, a force of seven submarines set forth from Gibraltar to make a series of destructive attacks on Allied shipping. It was to be a long cruise, and no pains had been spared to equip the submarines with all the munitions they could carry to do their job well, for this was the first time a large group had gone out since the new code had become available to the skippers.When two days out from Gibraltar, the radio operator on watch in one of the submarines began picking up signals from Allied ships. Word was passed to the others, and all listened intently. The messages were copied and decoded with the key in the stolen book.The following situation was deciphered: A large and important convoy from Brazil was approaching the danger zone; it had reached its supposed rendezvous and found no escort; no ships responded to its low-powered radio call. Now it was calling Punta Delgada asking for instructions, evidently using just enough power to reach the Naval Headquarters, and incidently the submarines, but endeavoring not to use enough power to be heard in Spain or Portugal. From the exchange of messages it appeared that an earlier dispatch, which should have led to the sending of a destroyer escort, had failed to get through. Owing to this misunderstanding, then, a valuable convoy was already entering the danger zone, and no escort was available for its protection. Punta Delgada was finally heard to instruct the convoy to proceed at maximum speed on a zigzag course and to refrain from using radio; at the moment no destroyers or cruisers were available, but, if possible, an escort would be assembled on the following day and sent to make contact with the convoy farther on.The submarines were proceeding in a westerly direction, spread out in a long scouting line extending from north to south. With their radio direction-finding apparatus they took bearings on the flagship of the convoy as she sent her messages to Punta Delgada. To their unbounded delight, the position which this indicated corresponded closely with that mentioned by the convoy flagship in her dispatch to Punta Delgada, a point about three hundred miles south of the eastern Azores. Once more the stolen code had proved itself correct.The intercepted dispatches had revealed what the course of the convoy would be during the next twenty-four hours. So the submarines shaped their own course for the place where they should find their victims the next morning soon after daybreak. Eagerly the officers of the flagship bent to the task of preparing their formation for the attack.“Bela has served the cause well,” said the Captain; “his reward for this will be great.” And warm was the praise of him echoed in the rejoinders of the others.As the gray afternoon wore on, the seven long, sinister-looking ships glided steadily westward, their low decks washed by the waves, and only the conning tower of each visible from her next in line. By dawn next day they should be already in the path of the northbound convoy, in plenty of time to re-form on a line stretching east and west which would surely cover the course of their intended victims and thus ensure good prizes for at least one and probably more of the submarines.As the gray twilight settled down on the sea, the line closed in till not more than three miles separated the ships at the extreme ends. Every valve, every item of machinery and armament was carefully inspected and all necessary tests were made, that no mishap should hinder the reaping of the grim harvest on the morrow. Tense as were the nerves of all, those off duty slept during the night, for a submarine crew must learn the art of sleeping when the chance offers. The captains scarcely slept at all, but, as each new watch went on duty, exhorted the radio operators and hydrophone listeners, going to their posts in the hull, to listen as never before. From ship to ship such messages as occasion required were transmitted by radio phone, with barely enough power to cover the distance intervening between them. Once soon after midnight the seven ships stopped to listen in silence, in case the convoy should be approaching sooner than was expected, but, although lying still in the water increased the range of the hydrophones by many miles, not a sound was heard.Two o’clock came, then three. The tension of eager anticipation grew. With powerful night glasses, the captains swept the sea, but nothing appeared to break the leaden skyline. At four o’clock they stopped again to listen, but through the hydrophones the ocean seemed as still as the grave. Soon they would be in the path of the convoy, and, taking their stations, would stop and wait. But they had twenty-five miles yet to go and two hours more of darkness. Westward with decks awash they steamed at fourteen knots.At half-past five nothing had broken the monotonous suspense. Then suddenly a report was flashed in by radio from the submarine at the northern end of the line—the hydrophones had detected a ship bearing northwest. This was an unexpected quarter. Was it the convoy or something else? Scarcely had this report been received when it was followed by another—the sound was increasing fast; there seemed to be more than one ship, approaching at high speed. Another of the submarines had heard the sounds also, and then another, till in a few minutes they were heard all along the line. What was it? The captains began to be uneasy. The ships were approaching much too fast to be the convoy; besides, they didn’t sound like merchant ships, nor did they sound quite like destroyers, nor yet like cruisers. One fact soon stood out above all others; their bearing did not change; whatever these ships were they were coming toward the submarines as straight as if steering for a lighthouse at their home port. Uneasiness changed to grave apprehension. Nearer still they came; the oncoming ships could not now be more than six miles from the nearest of the submarines, judging from their rate of approach.A red streak of dawn showed faintly on the eastern horizon. There was one thing to be done, and that without delay—submerge. Quickly the orders were given, hatches were closed, valves opened, electric motors started, and the seven ships sank beneath the waves, leaving only the periscopes to observe the approach of the enigmatic ships. Nearer the sounds approached, and then the bearings became confused; the ships seemed to be spreading out in a wide arc from north to west. Then dimly through the periscopes the dark forms of long, narrow ships could be seen in the faint dawn light. Two by two they came till at last the submarine skippers counted eight. Two pairs started to cross the bows of the submarines to the west and southwest, while the other two pairs deployed to the northeast. Just what kind of ships these were could not be made out, but at all events their speed marked them as warships of some sort. The greatest safety lay in concealment and silence; the submarines, therefore, slowed their motors till they had barely steerageway; and as the light increased and the strange vessels drew nearer, the periscopes were withdrawn, and the submarines dived deeper. But before the last periscope was withdrawn below the waves, a fleeting sweep of the horizon was made which revealed the two ships to the west executing a peculiar maneuver. The leading ship of the two doubled on her course and, passing very close to her partner ship, started steaming at reduced speed in the opposite direction, while the ship which had followed her also reduced speed, but held her course. One thing more was revealed by this final sweep of the horizon—a destroyer in the wake of the other ships approached at high speed from the northwest.On the bridge of this destroyer, besides her skipper and others on watch, stood Captain Fraser, chief of staff to Admiral Johnson, Commander Barton, of the Intelligence Bureau, and Evans. The eight ships seen by the submarines were the new net-laying squadron. Not a conning tower nor a periscope had they seen, but nevertheless they were now paying out their nets in a circle seven miles in diameter. Each pair laid a quadrant of the circle, the two starting at a point and steaming opposite ways till they met the ships of the adjacent quadrants, and thus completed the circle. On each of the eight ships the strange new mechanical gear was working at top speed, drawing the great net from the hold of the ship and paying it out over the stern, the supporting buoys and the little indicator bombs splashing ceaselessly into the water, while the crew tending the gear worked with all their might.And now, following a few miles behind the destroyer carrying Captain Fraser, came eleven more destroyers steaming up at thirty-five knots out of the western haze. Following the lead of the first destroyer, the other eleven started steaming in a steady procession round and round the outer edge of the circle of nets. Then as the dawn merged into daylight there appeared from several points of the compass small gray chasers, hurrying to the scene of action, and finally from the northwest, more chasers, swarms of them, till the sea was alive with the little craft.The first of the chasers to appear on the scene, some eighteen in number, coming from all directions, had been lying all night on a drifting patrol stretched in a long line from north to south across the path of the submarines. So near had each chaser been to the next in line that word could be passed from one end of the line to the other without the use of radio, by simply flashing the signals from boat to boat with infra-red rays, invisible to the eye, but readily perceived with the selenium detector. At a point near the northern end of the line, some fifteen miles from the present busy scene of action, the net-layers had lain in wait, together with the twelve destroyers, on one of which was Captain Fraser in charge of the operation. He had brought with him Commander Barton to observe results, and Evans to supervise the use of the infra-red signaling apparatus, lest through some failure of this unusual method a chaser captain should be impelled to use his radio and thus reveal his presence to the enemy.Now, just before sunrise, while the eighteen chasers of the drifting patrol were taking station, as fast as they arrived, in groups of two and three just outside the eight openings where the individual nets met and overlapped, the other chasers which had come from the northwest filed in through one of these openings, one at a time, each rounding the net-laying ship as she lay holding the end of her net, turning and threading with an S-shaped course the narrow gap till within the enclosed area. When all had entered, they formed in two long parallel lines at right angles with the net on the northwest side, those in the front line spaced within a stone’s throw of each other, those in the second line, nearly half a mile behind, being somewhat more spread out. As soon as the lines had thus formed, buoys were thrown overboard to mark the beginning of the sweep; then each chaser in the front line dropped over her stern two paravanes or submarine kites to be towed astern at the greatest depth to which a submarine could go, one from each quarter, each equipped with a small contact mine like those in the net. At a signal from the chaser flagship, all started, jumping to their full speed, following the curve of the net in line abreast, and the sweep began.The destroyer, with Captain Fraser on the bridge, stopped in her tour of the net, close to the point where the chasers assembled, and the officers on the bridge stood watching the maneuver.“They’re off!” cried Fraser as the chasers started their sweep. “Over the line like a bunch of colts on a race-track. Go it, boys!” and he rang, “One third speed” on both engines to keep the destroyer abreast of the sweep, exclaiming, “I hope we’ve got the whole works inside this purse-string.”“It’s bad business if we haven’t,” remarked Evans. “It must be ‘spurlos versenkt,’ or our talisman will lose its charm.”“You’re right there,” echoed Barton warmly. “‘Spurlos versenkt,’ no matter what the cost.”“How many do you expect there are, sir?” asked the skipper of the destroyer, addressing Captain Fraser.“According to Commander Barton’s friend, seven started out together from Gibraltar. They have probably stayed together,” answered Fraser. Then, seeing Barton look uneasily at the quartermasters on duty on the bridge to see if any had been within hearing, Fraser added, “Keep that about Barton’s friend under your hat.”“What assurance have you that they are all inside the net, sir?” asked the skipper.“We had a series of clear fixes from four of the chasers,” answered Fraser. “At the last fix their motors were heard to slow down. That was—how long, Evans, before we started laying the net?”“Twenty minutes,” answered Evans.“Twenty minutes,” resumed Fraser, “and in another twenty-five the nets were laid. The last fix was at the center of this circle; their speed from that point could not have averaged more than three and a half knots without their being heard, in spite of the noise of our engines. That gives them two and a half miles; the nets are three and a half miles from the fix. That’s a margin of a mile; pretty safe, I think, considering the accuracy of the fix.”All eyes were on the chasers. Ten minutes passed; it seemed an age. Then at last a small fountain of water rose in the wake of one of them. A paravane had struck something under water, and its bomb had detonated. Instantly from the second line of chasers the three most nearly behind the explosion converged upon the spot and smothered the vicinity with a concentrated barrage of depth charges. Mid the jar and din and the monstrous fountains of white and black froth there rose bits of wreckage, clearly visible to the watching eyes on the destroyer. The chaser whose paravane had given the signal kept her place in the line; another paravane was thrown out astern to replace the first which had done its duty and gone; and the sweep went on.Fifteen minutes elapsed. Then two miles away another small fountain rose into the air, this time from the encircling net. The two nearest destroyers raced to the spot and laid down a pattern of depth charges which ripped to bits a hundred yards of the net, and brought up other wreckage which told of another kill. The drifting chasers on that side of the net, hastened to the spot, and with grappling irons caught the broken ends of the net and drew them together, securing them with a short overlap. Meanwhile a maneuver had been commenced by the net-laying ships and chasers together, whereby the ends of the net were slowly drawn in toward the center of the circle, in order to reduce the area to be swept.More telltale bombs behind the chasers sent up their signal fountains, and two more barrages brought up their gruesome wreckage. The ocean shook and seethed with the tumult.“It’s a grim business,” muttered Evans, looking on solemnly. Never before had he stood by in cold blood and watched such a horror of war being enacted. The thought of the helpless wretches under the water being systematically hunted down and blown to eternity, oppressed his spirit, and made him graver than was his wont.Terrified by the appalling din of the depth charge barrages, one of the submarines came at last to the surface and surrendered. The crew were taken off by a chaser, but before leaving, they placed a demolition charge where it blew open the hull of the submarine after they were safely away, and sent her to the bottom of the sea.“By Jove, those are risky captives to have,” said Evans, roused from his depression by this new turn of events. “Better put ’em under lock and key where they can’t get ashore.”“That’s no idle jest,” said Barton. “Captain Fraser, I’d keep those prisoners on one of the ships in this action, if I were you, and not let a soul who hasn’t been here see or hear of them.”“That won’t be easy to arrange,” said Fraser. “But you’re right; we can’t afford to take the risk of letting them get ashore.”Some minutes passed in silence.The sweep had now gone from the northwest through the southwest to the southeast side of the circle. Then another bomb went off, and another heavy barrage racked the sea and sent up tokens of destruction. The count stood six. The officers were standing together in a small group at one end of the destroyer’s bridge, at a safe distance from the ears of the quartermasters.“Too bad your friend Wellman isn’t here to see the fun,” said Barton to Evans with a dry smile.“Who’s Wellman?” asked the skipper of the destroyer.“A special messenger we sent to Constantinople with a code, so they could follow our instructions when we told ’em what to do.”“You sent?” exclaimed the skipper. “How do you mean ‘sent’?”“Well, he didn’t know he was being sent,” said Barton. “He thought he was turning a rather good trick; and he was—for us. He was hanging round Washington in a way we didn’t like; so, when we’d seen enough of him, we gave him a little present, and he toddled off to hand it over to his boss.”“So that was the game, was it?” said the skipper with a chuckle.“Yes,” answered Barton, “but keep it right under your hat.”“I’m a good deal scared that he’ll hear of the sequel to his stroke of genius,” remarked Evans.“That mustn’t be,” rejoined Barton firmly.The sweep of the chasers went on till the circuit of the net had been completed. But since in the close formation necessary for a thorough sweep the chasers covered barely a mile, there was still an inner circle of two and a half miles’ radius that had not been swept. Assuming that the original seven submarines which Kendrick reported to have left Gibraltar had kept together, there was still one in the area to be found. Five had evidently held more or less to their course and had reached the western side of the netted area in time to be caught in the sweep; the sixth, turning to the southeastward away from the approaching fleet, had been caught on that side. The seventh, assuming she had stayed with the others, was still in the ring, and remained to be found.Swinging in toward the center of the circle, the chasers began their second circuit of the enclosed area, this time so placing the line that it overlapped slightly the area of its previous sweep. It might be a prolonged search, for each time the circuit was made, the submarine might shift into the area just swept, and thus escape. Still, in her blind state of submersion she could hardly dodge them indefinitely; and ultimately the drawing-in of the net would so limit the area that the chasers could rake it in a single sweep.The morning wore away, and the circles successively swept by the chasers closed in on the center, toward which also the ends of the net were towed, and, as the circumference of the circle became shorter, the superfluous lengths of net were recovered from the water and stowed in the holds of the net-layers.It was nearly noon; the entire area had been swept by the chasers and their weary officers had begun to think there could be no more submarines. The chaser flagship made signal requesting instructions. Fraser signaled back from the destroyer to renew the sweep, designating a course which, in view of the altered size and shape of the area, would offer the best prospect of finding an object thus far missed. The sweep went on. The chaser skippers were wondering how much longer the raking process, already becoming tedious, would have to continue, when another detonation of a paravane bomb gave the signal for attack. Again the following chasers charged the spot, and again a formidable array of depth charges shook the sea and sky; and visible wreckage brought the count to seven.“That makes the whole works, sir,” said the destroyer skipper to Fraser.“Yes,” answered he, “but we’re going to keep on sweeping for a while. We can’t take any chances of any of them getting back to tell the tale. It isn’t likely, but there’s just a small chance that some of them, even with visible wreckage blown off, might not be too much damaged to get home. Then, too, an eighth sub might have joined them after they left Gib.”And so the sweep went on. And at last, early in the afternoon, the nets had been drawn in till there was less than a square mile enclosed. Then it was that the chasers were able to sweep the entire area at a single stroke, their line stretching clear across it. Three times they swept it thus, but nothing more did they find. Then the sweeping ceased, and in single file the chasers left the enclosure. Still the nets were towed closer together as they were being reeled in aboard the ships, and finally they were brought together in pairs till there was no room left for a submarine to lie between them. Then only did Fraser signal that the hunt was over and the fleet would return to its base.“Evans,” he said, “your radio-compass men, both at Saint Michael’s and Madeira, did a good job in spotting these subs so soon after they left Gib.”“Yes,” said Barton; “that helped a lot; it gave us a good start. Still, the trump card was the code. By the way, Captain, don’t forget to send the escort out to meet that convoy just as soon as you can spare it.”Fraser laughed.“Well,” he said, “I think we all rate a good rest after this.”As the procession headed for Punta Delgada, the tired officers sought their bunks, all that could be spared from the duties of the watch. For many hours the nervous tension had been unremitting. A sense of triumph pervaded the flotilla, which combined with fatigue made for easy relaxation. But in Evans, underlying this feeling was a sense of oppression due to the horror of the submarine carnage. Added to this there lurked the fear that the story of the trap might reach the enemy and rob his magic talisman of its power to do, possibly, even greater things in the future.No more doubts were raised as to the utility of the net-layers. The eagerness of all concerned to be out again in search of more submarines was rather inclined to go beyond the dictates of good judgment. For it was not every night that a line of drifters could hope to intercept another such group. At all events, the enthusiasm bred of the adventure was a wholesome tonic, and on every hand the energies of officers and men were bent to the task of bringing about other successful hunts.Meanwhile Evans devoted his energies to exercising a tireless surveillance over the radio stations in the islands. Wherever there was a transmitter he found an excuse to go and tinker with the apparatus, apparently too much absorbed in the wiring to notice the operators or their handling of the traffic; in reality, looking for any indication that might mean leakage of information to the enemy. Commander Barton installed secret agents at every station from which messages could go out, camouflaged as “strikers” or “makee-learn” operators, and these were charged with the duty of watching with eternal vigilance for evidence of suspicious messages.In its effect on tonnage losses the result of the submarine round-up was appreciable. Seven fast, seagoing submarines, gone at one stroke, meant a substantial loss to the enemy, and a corresponding saving of Allied shipping could be detected. Yet still the situation was critical. More submarines were building, and, unless more round-ups could be brought about, the outlook for the future was none too bright.The increased vigilance of the listening crews on the drifting chasers brought its reward in other round-ups in which several ocean-going submarines met their doom. And in greater security the endless convoys carried their cargoes of munitions into Northern Europe.
An earlier chapter has told of the planning of a fleet of net-laying ships to coöperate with chasers on their drifting patrols and to surround at short notice a designated spot where a submarine had been located with hydrophones. This fleet of ships, eight in number, completed at last, arrived at Punta Delgada about the first of December. In accordance with their instructions, they commenced practicing the maneuver of proceeding at speed to a spot designated by signal from a destroyer or chaser and then surrounding it in such a way as to enable them with a minimum of lost motion to lay their lines of nets completely around the spot at a specified radius from it. This maneuver required a high order of team-work and a correspondingly large amount of drill; after a few weeks of this, however, the personnel acquired enough proficiency to make the officers feel ready to carry it out in earnest, and they grew impatient to try it on a real submarine instead of an imaginary one.
Then they began to go out as planned surrounded at a distance by groups of chasers on drifting patrols. But the ocean is very large, and the days and weeks seemed long as they waited for their first chance to put this new method of hunting to the test of a real “fix.” The skippers of these ships began to complain that their time was wasted—not to mention the elaborate equipment—when the chance of picking up a scent seemed so remote. Yet enemy submarines were abroad, as was shown by the toll of merchant ships, sunk in spite of the best efforts to lead them in organized convoys through to safety. An unfortunate atmosphere of grumbling at being tied up in what appeared to be an elaborate failure began to develop and to spread from the net-laying fleet to Headquarters. Was this vast project to prove a waste of effort and a failure, after all?
The enemy was gradually increasing the efficiency with which he planned and executed his submarine forays. The principal secret of this lay in the concentration of his submarine forces. Groups of five, six, or seven submarines would await a favorable moment in the conditions of ocean traffic; then proceeding together, combining their resources in the matter of detecting the approach of hostile craft, and skillfully disposing their force, they would deliver a concerted attack on a convoy, and often would take a heavy toll of tonnage.
Aided now by the acquisition of the code book brought from Washington by Bela, they prepared to launch more formidable attacks than heretofore, knowing in advance the disposition of Allied ships, and thus able to choose the most vulnerable point. It was necessary first to ascertain, if possible, whether the code was actually in use as planned. Possibly the book had been missed, and the Yankees had decided to abandon the code for fear it had fallen into enemy hands. To this end all the intercepted radio traffic of the Allies was diligently copied, and every effort made to correlate it with observed movements of Allied forces by sea or air. To the great delight of the Turks, they found messages being sent which conveyed a meaning when decoded in accordance with the system set forth in the book.
Early in January there came a welcome opportunity to verify the code and to satisfy the Turkish Chief of Staff that it was indeed being used by the Allies for directing naval operations. Punta Delgada was heard sending messages which when decoded proved to be addressed to a ship carrying seaplanes headed toward the Portuguese coast. These messages related to a bombing attack on the defenses of Lisbon. Eagerly the Intelligence officers at this port followed the preparations and then the progress of the attack. The seaplane carrier was next heard sending messages to the planes in the air, messages which were readily interpreted by means of the code, and finally, at the time when these dispatches had led them to expect it, the seaplanes appeared, only to be driven off by an overwhelming force of small fighting planes which, thanks to the code, had been prepared in time to prevent a single bombing plane from reaching its objective. The Intelligence officers were greatly elated, and praised the name of Bela.
About a week after this incident, a force of seven submarines set forth from Gibraltar to make a series of destructive attacks on Allied shipping. It was to be a long cruise, and no pains had been spared to equip the submarines with all the munitions they could carry to do their job well, for this was the first time a large group had gone out since the new code had become available to the skippers.
When two days out from Gibraltar, the radio operator on watch in one of the submarines began picking up signals from Allied ships. Word was passed to the others, and all listened intently. The messages were copied and decoded with the key in the stolen book.
The following situation was deciphered: A large and important convoy from Brazil was approaching the danger zone; it had reached its supposed rendezvous and found no escort; no ships responded to its low-powered radio call. Now it was calling Punta Delgada asking for instructions, evidently using just enough power to reach the Naval Headquarters, and incidently the submarines, but endeavoring not to use enough power to be heard in Spain or Portugal. From the exchange of messages it appeared that an earlier dispatch, which should have led to the sending of a destroyer escort, had failed to get through. Owing to this misunderstanding, then, a valuable convoy was already entering the danger zone, and no escort was available for its protection. Punta Delgada was finally heard to instruct the convoy to proceed at maximum speed on a zigzag course and to refrain from using radio; at the moment no destroyers or cruisers were available, but, if possible, an escort would be assembled on the following day and sent to make contact with the convoy farther on.
The submarines were proceeding in a westerly direction, spread out in a long scouting line extending from north to south. With their radio direction-finding apparatus they took bearings on the flagship of the convoy as she sent her messages to Punta Delgada. To their unbounded delight, the position which this indicated corresponded closely with that mentioned by the convoy flagship in her dispatch to Punta Delgada, a point about three hundred miles south of the eastern Azores. Once more the stolen code had proved itself correct.
The intercepted dispatches had revealed what the course of the convoy would be during the next twenty-four hours. So the submarines shaped their own course for the place where they should find their victims the next morning soon after daybreak. Eagerly the officers of the flagship bent to the task of preparing their formation for the attack.
“Bela has served the cause well,” said the Captain; “his reward for this will be great.” And warm was the praise of him echoed in the rejoinders of the others.
As the gray afternoon wore on, the seven long, sinister-looking ships glided steadily westward, their low decks washed by the waves, and only the conning tower of each visible from her next in line. By dawn next day they should be already in the path of the northbound convoy, in plenty of time to re-form on a line stretching east and west which would surely cover the course of their intended victims and thus ensure good prizes for at least one and probably more of the submarines.
As the gray twilight settled down on the sea, the line closed in till not more than three miles separated the ships at the extreme ends. Every valve, every item of machinery and armament was carefully inspected and all necessary tests were made, that no mishap should hinder the reaping of the grim harvest on the morrow. Tense as were the nerves of all, those off duty slept during the night, for a submarine crew must learn the art of sleeping when the chance offers. The captains scarcely slept at all, but, as each new watch went on duty, exhorted the radio operators and hydrophone listeners, going to their posts in the hull, to listen as never before. From ship to ship such messages as occasion required were transmitted by radio phone, with barely enough power to cover the distance intervening between them. Once soon after midnight the seven ships stopped to listen in silence, in case the convoy should be approaching sooner than was expected, but, although lying still in the water increased the range of the hydrophones by many miles, not a sound was heard.
Two o’clock came, then three. The tension of eager anticipation grew. With powerful night glasses, the captains swept the sea, but nothing appeared to break the leaden skyline. At four o’clock they stopped again to listen, but through the hydrophones the ocean seemed as still as the grave. Soon they would be in the path of the convoy, and, taking their stations, would stop and wait. But they had twenty-five miles yet to go and two hours more of darkness. Westward with decks awash they steamed at fourteen knots.
At half-past five nothing had broken the monotonous suspense. Then suddenly a report was flashed in by radio from the submarine at the northern end of the line—the hydrophones had detected a ship bearing northwest. This was an unexpected quarter. Was it the convoy or something else? Scarcely had this report been received when it was followed by another—the sound was increasing fast; there seemed to be more than one ship, approaching at high speed. Another of the submarines had heard the sounds also, and then another, till in a few minutes they were heard all along the line. What was it? The captains began to be uneasy. The ships were approaching much too fast to be the convoy; besides, they didn’t sound like merchant ships, nor did they sound quite like destroyers, nor yet like cruisers. One fact soon stood out above all others; their bearing did not change; whatever these ships were they were coming toward the submarines as straight as if steering for a lighthouse at their home port. Uneasiness changed to grave apprehension. Nearer still they came; the oncoming ships could not now be more than six miles from the nearest of the submarines, judging from their rate of approach.
A red streak of dawn showed faintly on the eastern horizon. There was one thing to be done, and that without delay—submerge. Quickly the orders were given, hatches were closed, valves opened, electric motors started, and the seven ships sank beneath the waves, leaving only the periscopes to observe the approach of the enigmatic ships. Nearer the sounds approached, and then the bearings became confused; the ships seemed to be spreading out in a wide arc from north to west. Then dimly through the periscopes the dark forms of long, narrow ships could be seen in the faint dawn light. Two by two they came till at last the submarine skippers counted eight. Two pairs started to cross the bows of the submarines to the west and southwest, while the other two pairs deployed to the northeast. Just what kind of ships these were could not be made out, but at all events their speed marked them as warships of some sort. The greatest safety lay in concealment and silence; the submarines, therefore, slowed their motors till they had barely steerageway; and as the light increased and the strange vessels drew nearer, the periscopes were withdrawn, and the submarines dived deeper. But before the last periscope was withdrawn below the waves, a fleeting sweep of the horizon was made which revealed the two ships to the west executing a peculiar maneuver. The leading ship of the two doubled on her course and, passing very close to her partner ship, started steaming at reduced speed in the opposite direction, while the ship which had followed her also reduced speed, but held her course. One thing more was revealed by this final sweep of the horizon—a destroyer in the wake of the other ships approached at high speed from the northwest.
On the bridge of this destroyer, besides her skipper and others on watch, stood Captain Fraser, chief of staff to Admiral Johnson, Commander Barton, of the Intelligence Bureau, and Evans. The eight ships seen by the submarines were the new net-laying squadron. Not a conning tower nor a periscope had they seen, but nevertheless they were now paying out their nets in a circle seven miles in diameter. Each pair laid a quadrant of the circle, the two starting at a point and steaming opposite ways till they met the ships of the adjacent quadrants, and thus completed the circle. On each of the eight ships the strange new mechanical gear was working at top speed, drawing the great net from the hold of the ship and paying it out over the stern, the supporting buoys and the little indicator bombs splashing ceaselessly into the water, while the crew tending the gear worked with all their might.
And now, following a few miles behind the destroyer carrying Captain Fraser, came eleven more destroyers steaming up at thirty-five knots out of the western haze. Following the lead of the first destroyer, the other eleven started steaming in a steady procession round and round the outer edge of the circle of nets. Then as the dawn merged into daylight there appeared from several points of the compass small gray chasers, hurrying to the scene of action, and finally from the northwest, more chasers, swarms of them, till the sea was alive with the little craft.
The first of the chasers to appear on the scene, some eighteen in number, coming from all directions, had been lying all night on a drifting patrol stretched in a long line from north to south across the path of the submarines. So near had each chaser been to the next in line that word could be passed from one end of the line to the other without the use of radio, by simply flashing the signals from boat to boat with infra-red rays, invisible to the eye, but readily perceived with the selenium detector. At a point near the northern end of the line, some fifteen miles from the present busy scene of action, the net-layers had lain in wait, together with the twelve destroyers, on one of which was Captain Fraser in charge of the operation. He had brought with him Commander Barton to observe results, and Evans to supervise the use of the infra-red signaling apparatus, lest through some failure of this unusual method a chaser captain should be impelled to use his radio and thus reveal his presence to the enemy.
Now, just before sunrise, while the eighteen chasers of the drifting patrol were taking station, as fast as they arrived, in groups of two and three just outside the eight openings where the individual nets met and overlapped, the other chasers which had come from the northwest filed in through one of these openings, one at a time, each rounding the net-laying ship as she lay holding the end of her net, turning and threading with an S-shaped course the narrow gap till within the enclosed area. When all had entered, they formed in two long parallel lines at right angles with the net on the northwest side, those in the front line spaced within a stone’s throw of each other, those in the second line, nearly half a mile behind, being somewhat more spread out. As soon as the lines had thus formed, buoys were thrown overboard to mark the beginning of the sweep; then each chaser in the front line dropped over her stern two paravanes or submarine kites to be towed astern at the greatest depth to which a submarine could go, one from each quarter, each equipped with a small contact mine like those in the net. At a signal from the chaser flagship, all started, jumping to their full speed, following the curve of the net in line abreast, and the sweep began.
The destroyer, with Captain Fraser on the bridge, stopped in her tour of the net, close to the point where the chasers assembled, and the officers on the bridge stood watching the maneuver.
“They’re off!” cried Fraser as the chasers started their sweep. “Over the line like a bunch of colts on a race-track. Go it, boys!” and he rang, “One third speed” on both engines to keep the destroyer abreast of the sweep, exclaiming, “I hope we’ve got the whole works inside this purse-string.”
“It’s bad business if we haven’t,” remarked Evans. “It must be ‘spurlos versenkt,’ or our talisman will lose its charm.”
“You’re right there,” echoed Barton warmly. “‘Spurlos versenkt,’ no matter what the cost.”
“How many do you expect there are, sir?” asked the skipper of the destroyer, addressing Captain Fraser.
“According to Commander Barton’s friend, seven started out together from Gibraltar. They have probably stayed together,” answered Fraser. Then, seeing Barton look uneasily at the quartermasters on duty on the bridge to see if any had been within hearing, Fraser added, “Keep that about Barton’s friend under your hat.”
“What assurance have you that they are all inside the net, sir?” asked the skipper.
“We had a series of clear fixes from four of the chasers,” answered Fraser. “At the last fix their motors were heard to slow down. That was—how long, Evans, before we started laying the net?”
“Twenty minutes,” answered Evans.
“Twenty minutes,” resumed Fraser, “and in another twenty-five the nets were laid. The last fix was at the center of this circle; their speed from that point could not have averaged more than three and a half knots without their being heard, in spite of the noise of our engines. That gives them two and a half miles; the nets are three and a half miles from the fix. That’s a margin of a mile; pretty safe, I think, considering the accuracy of the fix.”
All eyes were on the chasers. Ten minutes passed; it seemed an age. Then at last a small fountain of water rose in the wake of one of them. A paravane had struck something under water, and its bomb had detonated. Instantly from the second line of chasers the three most nearly behind the explosion converged upon the spot and smothered the vicinity with a concentrated barrage of depth charges. Mid the jar and din and the monstrous fountains of white and black froth there rose bits of wreckage, clearly visible to the watching eyes on the destroyer. The chaser whose paravane had given the signal kept her place in the line; another paravane was thrown out astern to replace the first which had done its duty and gone; and the sweep went on.
Fifteen minutes elapsed. Then two miles away another small fountain rose into the air, this time from the encircling net. The two nearest destroyers raced to the spot and laid down a pattern of depth charges which ripped to bits a hundred yards of the net, and brought up other wreckage which told of another kill. The drifting chasers on that side of the net, hastened to the spot, and with grappling irons caught the broken ends of the net and drew them together, securing them with a short overlap. Meanwhile a maneuver had been commenced by the net-laying ships and chasers together, whereby the ends of the net were slowly drawn in toward the center of the circle, in order to reduce the area to be swept.
More telltale bombs behind the chasers sent up their signal fountains, and two more barrages brought up their gruesome wreckage. The ocean shook and seethed with the tumult.
“It’s a grim business,” muttered Evans, looking on solemnly. Never before had he stood by in cold blood and watched such a horror of war being enacted. The thought of the helpless wretches under the water being systematically hunted down and blown to eternity, oppressed his spirit, and made him graver than was his wont.
Terrified by the appalling din of the depth charge barrages, one of the submarines came at last to the surface and surrendered. The crew were taken off by a chaser, but before leaving, they placed a demolition charge where it blew open the hull of the submarine after they were safely away, and sent her to the bottom of the sea.
“By Jove, those are risky captives to have,” said Evans, roused from his depression by this new turn of events. “Better put ’em under lock and key where they can’t get ashore.”
“That’s no idle jest,” said Barton. “Captain Fraser, I’d keep those prisoners on one of the ships in this action, if I were you, and not let a soul who hasn’t been here see or hear of them.”
“That won’t be easy to arrange,” said Fraser. “But you’re right; we can’t afford to take the risk of letting them get ashore.”
Some minutes passed in silence.
The sweep had now gone from the northwest through the southwest to the southeast side of the circle. Then another bomb went off, and another heavy barrage racked the sea and sent up tokens of destruction. The count stood six. The officers were standing together in a small group at one end of the destroyer’s bridge, at a safe distance from the ears of the quartermasters.
“Too bad your friend Wellman isn’t here to see the fun,” said Barton to Evans with a dry smile.
“Who’s Wellman?” asked the skipper of the destroyer.
“A special messenger we sent to Constantinople with a code, so they could follow our instructions when we told ’em what to do.”
“You sent?” exclaimed the skipper. “How do you mean ‘sent’?”
“Well, he didn’t know he was being sent,” said Barton. “He thought he was turning a rather good trick; and he was—for us. He was hanging round Washington in a way we didn’t like; so, when we’d seen enough of him, we gave him a little present, and he toddled off to hand it over to his boss.”
“So that was the game, was it?” said the skipper with a chuckle.
“Yes,” answered Barton, “but keep it right under your hat.”
“I’m a good deal scared that he’ll hear of the sequel to his stroke of genius,” remarked Evans.
“That mustn’t be,” rejoined Barton firmly.
The sweep of the chasers went on till the circuit of the net had been completed. But since in the close formation necessary for a thorough sweep the chasers covered barely a mile, there was still an inner circle of two and a half miles’ radius that had not been swept. Assuming that the original seven submarines which Kendrick reported to have left Gibraltar had kept together, there was still one in the area to be found. Five had evidently held more or less to their course and had reached the western side of the netted area in time to be caught in the sweep; the sixth, turning to the southeastward away from the approaching fleet, had been caught on that side. The seventh, assuming she had stayed with the others, was still in the ring, and remained to be found.
Swinging in toward the center of the circle, the chasers began their second circuit of the enclosed area, this time so placing the line that it overlapped slightly the area of its previous sweep. It might be a prolonged search, for each time the circuit was made, the submarine might shift into the area just swept, and thus escape. Still, in her blind state of submersion she could hardly dodge them indefinitely; and ultimately the drawing-in of the net would so limit the area that the chasers could rake it in a single sweep.
The morning wore away, and the circles successively swept by the chasers closed in on the center, toward which also the ends of the net were towed, and, as the circumference of the circle became shorter, the superfluous lengths of net were recovered from the water and stowed in the holds of the net-layers.
It was nearly noon; the entire area had been swept by the chasers and their weary officers had begun to think there could be no more submarines. The chaser flagship made signal requesting instructions. Fraser signaled back from the destroyer to renew the sweep, designating a course which, in view of the altered size and shape of the area, would offer the best prospect of finding an object thus far missed. The sweep went on. The chaser skippers were wondering how much longer the raking process, already becoming tedious, would have to continue, when another detonation of a paravane bomb gave the signal for attack. Again the following chasers charged the spot, and again a formidable array of depth charges shook the sea and sky; and visible wreckage brought the count to seven.
“That makes the whole works, sir,” said the destroyer skipper to Fraser.
“Yes,” answered he, “but we’re going to keep on sweeping for a while. We can’t take any chances of any of them getting back to tell the tale. It isn’t likely, but there’s just a small chance that some of them, even with visible wreckage blown off, might not be too much damaged to get home. Then, too, an eighth sub might have joined them after they left Gib.”
And so the sweep went on. And at last, early in the afternoon, the nets had been drawn in till there was less than a square mile enclosed. Then it was that the chasers were able to sweep the entire area at a single stroke, their line stretching clear across it. Three times they swept it thus, but nothing more did they find. Then the sweeping ceased, and in single file the chasers left the enclosure. Still the nets were towed closer together as they were being reeled in aboard the ships, and finally they were brought together in pairs till there was no room left for a submarine to lie between them. Then only did Fraser signal that the hunt was over and the fleet would return to its base.
“Evans,” he said, “your radio-compass men, both at Saint Michael’s and Madeira, did a good job in spotting these subs so soon after they left Gib.”
“Yes,” said Barton; “that helped a lot; it gave us a good start. Still, the trump card was the code. By the way, Captain, don’t forget to send the escort out to meet that convoy just as soon as you can spare it.”
Fraser laughed.
“Well,” he said, “I think we all rate a good rest after this.”
As the procession headed for Punta Delgada, the tired officers sought their bunks, all that could be spared from the duties of the watch. For many hours the nervous tension had been unremitting. A sense of triumph pervaded the flotilla, which combined with fatigue made for easy relaxation. But in Evans, underlying this feeling was a sense of oppression due to the horror of the submarine carnage. Added to this there lurked the fear that the story of the trap might reach the enemy and rob his magic talisman of its power to do, possibly, even greater things in the future.
No more doubts were raised as to the utility of the net-layers. The eagerness of all concerned to be out again in search of more submarines was rather inclined to go beyond the dictates of good judgment. For it was not every night that a line of drifters could hope to intercept another such group. At all events, the enthusiasm bred of the adventure was a wholesome tonic, and on every hand the energies of officers and men were bent to the task of bringing about other successful hunts.
Meanwhile Evans devoted his energies to exercising a tireless surveillance over the radio stations in the islands. Wherever there was a transmitter he found an excuse to go and tinker with the apparatus, apparently too much absorbed in the wiring to notice the operators or their handling of the traffic; in reality, looking for any indication that might mean leakage of information to the enemy. Commander Barton installed secret agents at every station from which messages could go out, camouflaged as “strikers” or “makee-learn” operators, and these were charged with the duty of watching with eternal vigilance for evidence of suspicious messages.
In its effect on tonnage losses the result of the submarine round-up was appreciable. Seven fast, seagoing submarines, gone at one stroke, meant a substantial loss to the enemy, and a corresponding saving of Allied shipping could be detected. Yet still the situation was critical. More submarines were building, and, unless more round-ups could be brought about, the outlook for the future was none too bright.
The increased vigilance of the listening crews on the drifting chasers brought its reward in other round-ups in which several ocean-going submarines met their doom. And in greater security the endless convoys carried their cargoes of munitions into Northern Europe.