A Watch-dog of the North Sea: A Naval Story of the Great War by Percy F. Westerman
CHAPTER XXXII
THE "ANZAC'S" DAY
ON deck a few smoke-begrimed seamen were engaged in directing hosesupon the still smouldering wreckage of the superstructure; otherswere unbattening the armoured hatches and clearing away some of thedebris.
Handing Greenwood to the care of two of the men, Tressidar made hisway to the conning-tower, with the intention of reporting himself tothe captain.
The entrance, protected by a section of armoured plate setvertically, was blocked with wreckage. The sub. put out his hand tosteady himself as he surmounted the obstruction. To his surprise themetal wall was hot, almost unbearably so. The impact of the shellthat had cracked the dome of the conning-tower had generated intenseheat to the rest of the structure.
Within lay the bodies of the captain, first lieutenant, and threeseamen. One of the latter had been struck on the temple with a sliverof steel that had entered the narrow slit in the armoured walls. Therest of the occupants were stunned, as effectually as if each hadbeen hit on the head with a club, for blood was trickling from theirmouths and nostrils.
It was no time to render assistance. A glance ahead showed that the"Anzac" was still describing a vast curve. Already she had turnedmore than nine points and was again drawing within range of theinvisible shore-batteries.
Grasping the wheel of the steam steering-gear, the sub. attempted tosteady the vessel on her helm. There was no response. The mechanismwas no longer in order.
The voice-tube communicating with the engine-room was fortunatelyintact, although the telegraph-indicator had been shattered by thetremendous concussion. On enquiry, Tressidar learnt that the mainsteam-pipe of the port engine had been fractured by a shell that hadentered the engine-room, although the main force of the explosion hadbeen directed against the coal in the wing bunkers. Down below, theartificer engineers and engine-room ratings were toiling desperately,placing copper sheathing on the fractured pipe and making it secureby means of "lagging" and rope.
Only the starboard engine was running, with the result that, in theabsence of control of the helm, the monitor was circling aimlessly.
The sub. tried another voice-tube. To his satisfaction he wasanswered by the chief quartermaster.
"Hand wheel party present?" enquired Tressidar.
"All present, sir," was the reply.
"Then connect up and stand by."
Quickly the change was made, and once more the battered monitor wasunder control.
By this time Tressidar had discovered that he was actually incommand. Reports from the carpenter's crew revealed the satisfactorynews that the "Anzac" was still sound below the water-line, while theengine-room staff expressed their belief that the defects in theirdepartment could be temporarily made good within half an hour.
Men were busily engaged in ridding the deck of the wreckage of thetripod mast, which they did by the simple yet drastic expedient ofcompletely severing the legs by means of gun-cotton charges.
Although the training-gear of the turret was undamaged, a glancingshell had snapped six feet off the chase of one of the 14-inch guns,rendering it useless for further service. The other gun was intact,but so furious had been the firing that only three rounds remained.
With the destruction of the aerials and the dislocation of thedelicate apparatus, communication by wireless was no longer possible;nor was there any spar from which a signal might be flown. Soundsignals, too, were useless, since the deafening cannonade between theother monitors and the shore outvoiced all other noises.
A patrol-boat presently dashed up and drew close alongside thedamaged monitor, and asked if any assistance were required.
"You might take our wounded," replied Tressidar. "We've a number ofcasualties And we should like instructions from the flagship. No; weare still under control and capable of making five knots. There is nonecessity for a ship to be detached to tow us."
As quickly as possible the wounded officers and men were transhipped,the patrol-vessel meanwhile wirelessing the senior officer andrequesting instructions for the "Anzac," stating that she was nolonger able to resume her station in action.
The reply was: "Proceed to Harwich under own steam." There was nomention of a destroyer being sent as escort.
When, at length, the engine-room repairs were effected, the sorelybattered monitor, looking little better than a mass of scrap-ironabove the low deck, forged slowly ahead on her homeward voyage. Thesurvivors, having washed and changed, were piped to dinner, theprincipal item of the menu being "Zeppelins in the clouds," namely,sausages served with gravy.
"Rather ominous," thought Tressidar amusedly, as he overheard the mendiscussing the food "Ominous for the Huns, though."
Two hours later the rest of the flotilla was out of sight, althoughthe dull rumble of gunfire proclaimed that the bombardment was stillmaintained. At four in the afternoon the North Hinder Lightship wassighted. From that point westwards there were no sea-marks, theGalloper and other light vessels off the Suffolk coast having beenwithdrawn.
Slowly the "Anzac" steamed, her rate being considerably less thanTressidar had anticipated. With the loss of the major portion of thefunnel and the weak spot in her main steam-pipe her horse-power hadfallen appreciably.
Night came on and with it a mist. Stellar observations were no longerpossible. Navigation depended solely upon dead reckoning on a compasscourse and the constant use of the lead.
At midnight Tressidar, having previously instructed the quartermasterof the watch to awaken him should anything occur, lay down on thedeck in the wake of the conning-tower. In less than a minute he wassleeping fitfully, the drums of his ears throbbing with the reactionafter the deafening cannonade.
It seemed to him that he had been asleep but a few seconds when hewas awakened by a dull, grinding noise and the quartermaster shoutingto the engine-room for "hard astern."
The "Anzac" was aground.
"The men in the chains reported fourteen fathoms not a minute ago,sir," said the quartermaster. "The water must have shoaled like theroof of a house."
The hull was throbbing under the pulsations of the engines as thetwin screws lashed cascades of phosphorescent water past themonitor's bulging sides. The ship showed no tendency to slide off.She had struck hard.
The sub. ordered the engines to stop. He knew that it wanted twohours to low water. Further attempts to get the monitor off must bedeferred until after quarter flood, which would be at four forty-fivein the morning.
Fortunately the sea was calm. There was little wind. At some distanceaway the sullen rollers were breaking heavily on the shoal. Since themonitor was not making water and lay on the lee side of the submergedbank, there was little danger. Provided the wind did not spring up,she would float without damage with the rising tide.
But the unpleasant fact was apparent that Tressidar had run his shipashore--a far more serious case in the eyes of My Lords than if themonitor had been lost in action.
With dawn the mist dispersed. By observations the sub. discoveredthat the "Anzac" had bumped on the Galloper Shoal. He had not madesufficient allowance for the cross set of the tide, and instead ofpassing between the Outer Gabbard and the Galloper, the monitor had"smelt out" the latter, with ignominious if not serious results.
No other vessel was in sight. With her boats destroyed, the "Anzac"had no means of laying out an anchor astern. Even if she had, thesteam capstans were useless, having suffered with the rest of thedeck gear during the bombardment. The monitor would have to get offunder her own steam.
Tressidar was still searching the horizon with his telescope when oneof the seamen raised a warning shout:
"Zepp. dead ahead, sir."
There was no mistaking the form of the immense rigid airship. Flyingat a height of two thousand feet, she was heading in a direction thatwould bring her almost immediately above the stranded monitor. Thebelated night-raider, returning from a visit to the Midlands, hadallowed dawn to overtake her before she was more than a few milesfrom the Suffolk coast.
At the word of command the gun's crew manned the sole workableweapon--the 14-inch turret-gun. Up from the magazine by means of thehydraulic loading-tray a huge shell was hoisted. It was one of theremaining three--a new type of gigantic shrapnel, similar to thosefired with disastrous results on the Turks by the super-Dreadnought"Queen Elizabeth." For once, at least, a 14-inch gun was to be usedas an anti-aircraft weapon.
Under the sighting hood the captain of the turret directed thetraining of the huge but docile piece of ordnance. The target was aneasy one as regards bulk, for the gun-layer could plank shell aftershell with unerring accuracy into an invisible target fifteen milesaway; but, on the other hand, there was the speed and great elevationof the Zeppelin to be taken into consideration.
Anxiously Tressidar watched the chase of the sixty odd tons of metal,as the muzzle of the weapon, moving as smoothly as a billiard cue,reared itself into the air. For an instant it seemed to hesitate,then with a flash and a deafening roar the gun spoke. A mushroom ofblack smoke, 'twixt which the course of the projectile could befollowed, leapt from the recoiling weapon.
"Too high," muttered the sub. disappointedly, as the trail of smokefrom the tracer of the shell mounted higher and higher, until itlooked to be far above the flimsy target.
The next instant he felt like cheering madly and doing an impromptuhornpipe, for the shell had exploded above and within a very shortdistance of the doomed Zeppelin. Had it done so at ten times thedistance the result would have been much the same.
Literally riddled with fragments of metal and smitten with the fullforce of the blast from the explosion, the airship began to drop withfearful rapidity, her ends curling upwards like a writhing worm.Then, like a flash of lightning, the whole of the buckled fabricburst into flames, the disintegrated fragments falling with a seriesof splashes into the sea.
For quite a minute after the collapse of the air-raider there wassilence on board the monitor. The dramatic suddenness of the wholeaffair could at first hardly be realised. Then a rousing cheer burstfrom the throats of the depleted ship's company. The "Anzac" hadcreated a war-record--bringing down a Zeppelin with a 14-inch gun.