The Death of Hope by Andrew Wareham (inspirational books for women txt) 📕

“Well put, Sturton. Let us assume you havea permanent replacement. How do you want to go about it?”

“Not perhaps to trawl for the aristocracy,sir!”

“Unlike your Campbell-Barnes, eh?”

“Exactly. I have a sub, McCracken, who isdue his step and young Waller, the mid, is a yachtsman, crewing since the ageof ten, and well capable of receiving his commission. A bright midshipman wouldbe ideal, sir.”

SNO shook his head with ponderous humour.

“Can’t guarantee that, Sturton. How about onewho is less daft than Higgins?”

“An acceptable compromise, sir.”

“I need confirmation from Harwich before Ican put McCracken up, Sturton. That should take no more than a couple of hours,you being a blue-eyed boy! I will come aboard myself in late afternoon to givehim the good news in person and lead the mid aboard – don’t want the poor ladgetting lost in a foreign land, after all. You may inform Waller of his step.”

All very simple, in fact.

SNO took pleasure in promoting McCracken,telling him what a good chap he was, and meeting Sublieutenant Waller, burstingwith joy at his rapid step, and then in producing the new body.

The new midshipman was a wartimevolunteer, lacking knowledge of naval habits and traditions, yet well capableof learning the ways of a destroyer at sea for having experience of small craft.Mr Pinkerton was regarded as an asset, despite being Scotch; he had nobarbarous accent to mock, was able to fit in quickly.

“What do I do if Mr Higgins comes back,sir?”

“Stay here as an extra hand, Pinkerton. MrHiggins will be moving to pastures greener, we may be sure. If he returns atall, it will only be for a month or two.”

The wardroom was crowded and Waller, whonow had a cabin rather than a cupboard to sleep in, much hoped that Higginswould not be seen again. He took pains to assist Pinkerton to learn the trade andfit in, hoping he would be seen as obviously more useful.

“You seem to know your way about. Where haveyou sailed before, Pinkerton?”

“On my uncle’s trawler, sir, which I liked.I intended to join him as a deckhand, leaving school as soon as possible. Myfather is a civil servant, first one of the family to leave the fishing. He hadbeen to the University first. He is very respectable now, promoted a long way,and does not want me to go to sea as a common fisherman, so he arranged for meto join the Royal Navy.”

The word was passed rapidly, the boy was asmall boat man off the Arctic trawlers. It helped, especially when he showedcompetent and willing to work as Lancelot led the half-flotilla on a series offruitless patrols outside Dutch waters, parading up and down the coastline acareful four miles out to sea, making it clear that there would be no inadvertentstraying over the line.

A fortnight unbroken other than for oilingand Simon was called to SNO’s office.

“Intelligence reports that the Hun hasstopped running ships along the coast, because you are there, Sturton. A usefulblockade. Look out for torpedoes – they are almost bound to send submarines afteryou. Commendation for Lancelot for shooting down the seaplane, by the way. Muchapproved of. Mr Higgins – Lieutenant Higgins, that is – will not be returningto you. He is still on sick leave, probably for some weeks yet, the wound havingbecome infected. Nothing too serious, slow healing, that’s all. When he is fitfor duty he will be sent to Chatham to work up a torpedo boat, one of the new, smallsort, as you recommended. He has his DSC. You will not see his face in thenewspapers, surprisingly enough! I am to inform you that the powers that be arepleased with you for your handling of the boy. If he does well in his coastalboat, he will be promoted and sent out to Washington as assistant to the naval attachéthere. No actual work to do, just showing off his English accent and beingaristocratic at dinner and dance. Good chance a millionaire’s daughter will layher hands upon him and provide him with a meal ticket for life – young and ahero, what more could they ask for, especially when they get a sniff of royalblood!”

“And the privileged will look after theirown again, sir. Why should I complain? I am one of them, after all.”

“In a way, yes, Sturton. You have,however, made your own success. Rather different to young Higgins.”

It was comforting to be told that he wasrespected in his own right.

“What do we do about these damned submarines,sir?”

“Avoid them. You may be taken into Chathamfor a month or two to have depth charge rails fitted. A sort of bomb to be heavedoff the stern, exploding under the surface. If you can drop them on top of thesubmarine, you will do it no favours. That does, of course, mean you have tolocate it first, underwater.”

“I have been told of hydrophones, sir.”

“So have I, Sturton. How they work, howyou use them, I do not know. For the while, keep a good lookout for torpedoes,especially when there is a full moon and no cloud. They don’t fire at nightotherwise and you might be able to see their tracks in daylight. With luck.”

The destroyers had masts, essentiallydecorative structures, the fore being for signals, the after mast having noobvious function at all. The Admiralty liked its ships to have masts – never knewwhen they might come in handy and a ship wasn’t a real ship if it didn’t haveone, or two.

“Coxswain, we can expect to be attacked bysubmarines, I am informed. With torpedoes. What’s the chance of reinforcing theafter mast and putting a lookout up high?”

“None, sir!”

Westerman was in no mood to toleratenonsense from his captain, thought it wiser to end any foolish ideas he mighthave.

“That stick will not take the weight of aman however many guys we rig to it, sir. It serves to fly a flag when we gointo battle, assuming we hoist such colours for some reason that amuses anadmiral, sir.”

“Pity. More possible to spot a torpedo ifthe lookout is at high.”

“Can’t be done, sir. The masts are not forpractical use, sir. Wireless and signals to the