There were more than a dozen bodies scattered about and blood ran freely from the still forms. Blood on the deck, he thought, and realized that as garish as the statement was, it applied to the heavily damaged E-boat. Blood ran in streams along the deck and disappeared beneath the canvas dodgers, and he found himself almost hypnotized by the scene. He turned his eyes away and saw burning boats littering the sea; funeral pyres of flames and rolling black smoke that marked the death of boats and men.
“What’d you get?” Cole asked.
“Codebooks. This,” Edland said, showing Cole the machine.
“Get it over to the 155, and don’t come back. You’ll just be in the way.”
Edland started to protest when Cole said: “Yeah, I know. It’s your boat. But you’re in my way. And make sure Rich gets his lighter back. Those things are worth their weight in gold.”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” Hardy grumbled as the medico wrapped a bandage around his arm. “It was perfectly all right until you started manhandling me.”
“It’s a deep wound, Captain. You’ll need stitches when we get in.”
“Supply parties reported in, sir,” Land said, examining the bandaging process out of curiosity.
Hardy noticed his interest. “Shall I have the men set up a chair for you, Number One?”
“That’s won’t be necessary, sir,” Land replied. “I won’t be staying. We’ve twenty-two wounded, including you, sir. Two dead. Most of the damage is from shrapnel although we took two solid bricks on the starboard quarter, but well above the waterline. I’m afraid that Courtney’s reported one of the shafts may be dislodged.”
“Good Lord, Number One. Two bricks did that?” Hardy slapped the medico’s hands away, glaring at him.
“Yes, sir. We were lucky, sir.”
“Bridge, foremast,” a lookout shouted down. “MTB dead ahead, three thousand yards. MTB dead ahead, three thousand yards.”
“Engine Room, Bridge,” Hardy said. “Down seventy-five revolutions on all engines. Helmsman, starboard twenty.” He turned to Land. “Number One, you will have a party assemble on the boat deck with lines and fittings, prepared to assist Mr. Cole’s boat. And you, sir,” he said to the medico who was replacing items in his canvas bag. “You will gather up your lot and make ready to assist the Americans in any way you can. Yeoman of Signals? Make to the American boat: ‘Where do you want us?’” Hardy moved his arm gingerly, trying to gauge the injury. “Well, it’s liable to lay up my art for a bit, Number One. Still, it could have been worse, eh, Edwin?”
Land considered the quality of Hardy’s work and decided to take the high road. “We shall all miss your art, sir.”
Hardy gave him an irritated look that said that his diplomacy was not appreciated. He leaned over the voice tube. “Helmsman. Port ten.” He watched as Firedancer approached the E-boat. The American PT boat was alongside the enemy boat, taking off prisoners.
“Engine room, back one hundred. Helmsman starboard five. Steady on now, I don’t want to ram her.” He turned to Land, the pain in his arm becoming more noticeable. “Take her in alongside that beast, Number One. I shall go down and direct the deck crew. Besides, I want to see one of those big bastards.”
“Yes, sir,” Land said. “Give my regards to Mr. Cole.”
Cole watched as Firedancer maneuvered alongside the E-boat. He turned aft and shouted: “Murray? How’s it looking?”
“You’d better get the lead out, Skipper.”
“Rich?” Cole shouted. “Get a couple of guys and grab those lines.”
Rich and two men jumped the short distance from the PT boat to the E-boat’s deck, made their way through the carnage to the starboard side, and waited for Firedancer’s crew to deploy the lines.
Cole found Edland at his side. “What are you doing here?” He saw the 155 boat pull away, its deck crowded with prisoners. “You missed your ride.”
“Like you said; it’s my boat.”
“Prepare to receive lines, Mr. Cole,” someone shouted from Firedancer.
Cole smiled. He recognized Hardy’s voice. He was happy to have his old friend close by but he didn’t think they could save the boat. She was taking too much water and although she was only half the length of the destroyer, the seawater racing into her hull would make her too heavy to tow. Or even keep afloat. He watched as three lines floated out from the destroyer and were tied off to the cleats. Three more followed and were secured as well. A swell drove Firedancer against the E-boat and the enemy craft groaned in protest. She was wallowing heavily.
“Mr. Cole?” Hardy shouted. “Shall we pass you a cable to feed through that gun mount forward?”
Cole glanced at the heavy gun in the gun well. She was probably well secured and could take the cable. “Okay, Captain. Rich, get up there and tie her off.”
“I’ll help,” Edland said.
“Mr. Cole?” Hardy again. “You have yourself quite a catch, haven’t you? Can you make headway?”
“No. She’s dead. And she’s taking on water.”
The E-boat twisted slightly in the waves and rubbed her length along Firedancer; steel against steel sent out a piercing squeal. Cole couldn’t be sure but he thought Firedancer was listing; she was being pulled over by the floundering E-boat.
“Are her pumps working?” Hardy shouted.
“Barely working,” Cole said. “We’ve got one engine but no headway. I don’t know how long she can last.”
“Stand by, then. We’ll get ours up and pump you out.”
Cole felt the E-boat shift to starboard and the rumble of items breaking loose below. He knew that she couldn’t be saved. She was doomed. He heard a snap like a pistol shot and saw a line whip through the air. There was another shot and a line aft parted. It whipped a cleat high over Firedancer’s superstructure and Cole felt the E-boat begin to settle at the stern.
Cole cupped his hands around his mouth. “Firedancer? Cut us loose. We’re sinking.” He turned fore and aft shouting: “Abandon ship.”
“Skipper!” It was Rich. “Get up here.”
Cole ran forward, dodging debris and bodies. He found Rich, in the gun well, trying to free Edland’s hand from the mount. He jumped into the well. “Get out, Rich.”
“I got…” Rich began.
“Get off the goddamned boat.”
Edland’s face was white and he bit his lip in agony. “I was trying to feed the line through the mount and the gun shifted. It caught my hand.”
Cole turned on Rich who hadn’t moved. “Rich, I swear to God if you don’t get out, I’ll kill you.”
“No way, Skipper.”
Cole turned his attention back to the gun, trying to figure out a way to free Edland. He saw a way, but he needed Rich’s help. “Okay, Superman. Put your back under the barrel.” He turned to Edland. “We’re going to lift and if we don’t tear your arm off, pull it out.”
The E-boat’s stern slid to port as her bow nosed against Firedancer’s hull. Edland cried out in pain and looked at Cole. His eyes said everything: Hurry. She was sinking.
Cole joined Rich, bent down, and slid his back under the thick gun barrels. “On three. One, two…”
The E-boat began to shudder as more water rushed into her dead body.
“Three.” Cole and Rich pressed backs against the barrels. “Push,” Cole shouted, straining to bring all of his strength against the immobile piece. He felt water lapping at his ankles and knew they had only seconds.
“I’m out,” Edland called.
Rich and Cole pushed away from the mount and scrambled out of the well, joining Edland. Cole dove over the side, and as he did he felt the deck of the E-boat slide away. When he came to the surface he located Rich and Edland and swam over to them. Firedancer had lowered a boat and it was quickly pulling toward them.