The look-out’s shout brought the discussion to an abrupt end as the two officers hurried to the starboard side of the bridge to investigate. Forsyth peered down at the water. There certainly was something happening. The surface of the sea was heaving violently and streams of air bubbles were rising up from the depths like an evil brew simmering in a witch’s cauldron.
‘Cor!’ breathed the look-out. ‘Looks like a bloody underwater volcano◦– I’ve ’eard about them sort of things in these parts.’
The sub-lieutenant’s explanation of the unexpected phenomena was more prosaic, but no less dramatic in its implication.
‘Good God, sir! It’s a submarine!’
Forsyth hesitated indecisively as the top of the conning tower thrust out of the swirling water. What the hell were the Japs up to now? He wondered whether Firefly’s bosun would know the pipe for ‘Stand by to repel boarders’ and decided it was highly unlikely.
‘Action Stations! Submarine on starboard beam!’
It was the only order he could think of in the circumstances. But even as he gave it, he knew that the submarine was too close for the guns to bear. The rush of water fell back to a frothing tumult from which emerged the glistening steel plating of Rapier’s conning tower. Viewed from such close quarters, it was almost impossible to identify and it bore little resemblance to the neat silhouettes issued for recognition purposes.
‘It’s okay, sir, she’s one of ours.’
Forsyth did not know how Peters could be so certain, but he was willing to accept his judgement. And, as he ordered Firefly’s crew to fall out from Action Stations, he saw the upper hatch of the submarine swing back and an officer emerge onto the bridge…
Hamilton seemed unaware of the furor he was causing aboard the gunboat. At that moment he was too busy with his own problems. And as the yeoman and look-outs scrambled out onto the bridge he moved to the voice pipe. ‘Start motors and send up the deck party.’
Petty Officer Blake led the sea-duty men up through the gun hatch and Hamilton ordered them on to the foredeck, with instructions to secure a line from the submarine’s bows to the stern of the Firefly. There was a moment of confusion aboard the gunboat, but Forsyth quickly appreciated what was wanted and sent a party to the stem to grab the line and secure it around a bollard.
‘Ease the line when I tell you,’ Hamilton shouted across. ‘I want to swing my stern ninety degrees so that I’m lying abaft your rear.’
‘Understood, Rapier. Go ahead when you’re ready.’
Hamilton moved to the voice pipe again. ‘Half-ahead starboard. Full right rudder.’ The submarine quivered as the motors increased speed, and a confused tumble of white water erupted from the fantail as the starboard propeller churned the sea to foam. The stern of the submarine began to swing outwards. ‘Slacken off bow lines◦– port motor half-astern.’ The swinging action increased as the counter movement of the port propeller tightened the angle of the turn. Rapier’s bows drifted slowly away from the stem of the gunboat and Hamilton watched the maneuvers anxiously. ‘Hold hard on the lines, Firefly. Keep them taut.’ He leaned over the voice pipe. ‘Stop port motor. Stop starboard. Half-ahead starboard… stop!’ Rapier was now standing at right angles to the gunboat, with her bows just clear of Firefly’s stern and her torpedo tubes pointing directly at the Japanese destroyer.
‘Secure bow lines! Lay off a stern anchor to stop us swinging in the current, Chief. But use a hemp hawser and have a man standing by it with an axe in case we need to cut ourselves free in a hurry.’ He returned to the voice pipe. ‘Report to the bridge, Number One. And tell the gun crew to come topsides.’
Walking to the side of the conning tower nearest to the gunboat, Hamilton surveyed the mooring position with the expert eye of a seaman. Bearing in mind the difficulties, they hadn’t done too badly. Then raising his glasses he examined the destroyer. There was some movement on her bridge but, as yet, the Japanese showed no signs of responding to Rapier’s sudden appearance. He wondered how the destroyer commander would react when he realized his ship was lying broadside on to the submarine’s torpedo tubes.
‘Nicely executed, sir,’ Forsyth called down from Firefly’s bridge. ‘Do you need any more help?’
‘Yes◦– I don’t like getting my feet wet. Drop a rope ladder over the stern so that I can come aboard.’ Hamilton glanced round as Mannon joined him on top of the conning tower. ‘I’m going over to Firefly, Number One. You’ll be in charge while I’m away. As things stand at the moment, the next stage will be a visit to the Japanese commander to see if I can persuade him to release Ottershaw.’ He paused for a second. ‘If anything goes wrong you have my authority to torpedo the enemy immediately he opens fire. But make bloody sure he fires the first shot. Is that understood?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Mannon hesitated. ‘But supposing you’re still on board?’
‘Then it’s too bad for me,’ Hamilton told him flatly. ‘My primary task is to protect Rapier and secure the release of Firefly. If it means putting two lives at risk, so be it. Any questions?’
Mannon knew what the skipper meant. He was beginning to understand the awesome responsibilities of command. He nodded. ‘Understood, sir. If the destroyer opens fire I am to torpedo her and then escort Firefly clear.’
Hamilton grinned suddenly. ‘Good man. But don’t look so worried◦– it won’t come to that. It’s just that I like to cover all eventualities.’ Swinging his leg over the conning tower rail, he started climbing down the rungs to the deck. Morgan, the gunner’s mate, was standing in the bows holding the rope ladder and he grinned expectantly as the skipper came down the fore casing.
‘Will you be needing some help, sir?’ he asked hopefully.
Hamilton shook his head. ‘Sorry, Chief. I think I’d best play this one solo. But keep your chaps standing by… you never know your luck.’
He grabbed the precariously swaying rope ladder and quickly hauled himself up on to the stern of the gunboat, where Forsyth was waiting to receive him.
‘Welcome aboard, sir.’
‘We’ve no time for that sort of thing, Lieutenant,’ Hamilton snapped impatiently. ‘Give me a rundown on the situation since you arrived.’
Forsyth felt slightly abashed by the submarine commander’s brusqueness. He noticed that Hamilton was only a two-striper like himself and wondered which of them was the senior. It was a pity he hadn’t checked the Navy List beforehand. The clipped authority of the demand, however, seemed to assume his subordination and, almost without thinking, he accepted his junior status.
‘The Japanese escorted us into the bay at dawn,’ he explained briefly. ‘They sent a boat at 0900 hours and Lieutenant Commander Ottershaw was invited back to the destroyer for discussions. I’ve tried signaling for information, but they just ignore everything we send.’
‘Did Ottershaw leave any instructions?’
‘He left me in command.’ Forsyth saw that Hamilton appeared unimpressed by the information. ‘He gave no precise instructions… just said he didn’t expect to be long.’
‘Why the hell didn’t you make a break for it?’ Hamilton asked curtly.
‘I couldn’t leave the Captain in the hands of the Japanese.’
‘Why not? Good God man we’re not at war with them, you know. They’ve got to release him eventually. If you’d made a run for it, at least it would have shown those squint-eyed bastards what we think of them.’ Hamilton paused to regain his temper. ‘Are you sure they haven’t taken him ashore?’