Gromke swallowed. He knew he should have had enough sense to keep quiet. But he had spoken, and now he stood committed for them all. "Ja, Herr Kapitan—" he floundered. "But—"
"But!" von Mueller thundered. "So am I, Bootsmaan! So am I! But you know that this is not the time or the place to volunteer your opinion. I will overlook it in view of what I have to say to you all. Tomorrow night, with luck, I hope to give you action of a different sort—" He paused while the foredeck rang with cheers. When they had died down, he continued. "I cannot promise you any stunning victory. I can promise you a surprise for the enemy. How they will meet it depends entirely on them. In the meantime, as you know, I have this morning made a very thorough inspection of the ship and her readiness. A few things I have found wrong. You know what they are. I expect you to correct them before tomorrow midday. If any gun crew or element of this machine is not ready by that time, there will be no action. If everything is ready, as it should be, we will attack Madras as soon after nightfall as possible. That is all!"
He turned away and looked at the officers grouped behind him. "I will meet you gentlemen in the wardroom at sixteen hundred and see that you are briefed. Meantime, give your attention to whatever deficiencies may exist in your various departments. I shall expect a readiness report from each of you."
The officers' meeting later that afternoon was less perfunctory.
"Well, gentlemen," said von Mueller, spreading a large map on the table, "you now know our objective—Madras. We cannot, of course—and we should not—aim to destroy the city, or even aim to hit it. Our objectives must be, first, the tanks and installations of the Burma and Anglo-Indian Oil companies, at the northern side of the city here, from which both enemy warships and her most modern freighters can refuel; second, the shipping in the roadstead, which may include one or more enemy warships; third, any defenses, lights, beacons, or wireless relay stations they may maintain there. Your fire will be directed in that order, and I expect hits within the target areas. You will, of course, have the various batteries and units under your command in full battle order. If you have any doubts about them, I want you to inform me fully. The entire outcome of the attack may depend upon the readiness of any single one of you. Am I understood?"
There was a moment's quiet.
"Jawohl, Herr Kapitan!" said von Muecke at length.
"Good!" said von Mueller. "Any questions?"
Again silence. Then:
"Herr Kapitan!" Gaede spoke. As gunnery officer he was most concerned. "We cannot know what ships may be in port, of course. But what of the shore defenses?"
"Our information is hardly up to date, Dirk." Von Mueller looked at him. "But at last reports the only defenses were a number of old 5.9-inch guns at the Saint George battery— on the beach in the middle of the town. The only others will be temporary batteries set up on the mole, or possible armed vessels in the harbor. Naturally, we cannot know the weight of those. We will just have to risk them."
Von Mueller recognized another hand. "Leutnant von Hohenzollern?"
"Herr Kapitan," said Franz, "will we need torpedoes?"
"Unless we encounter guard ships outside the roads, Leutnant," von Mueller said, "I doubt it. However, I expect you to be at your post and ready."
The night passed slowly, fitfully, for them all. But the morning found them within striking distance of the Indian coast, though yet well out of sight. Since it would not do to arrive off Madras before nightfall, they hove to and fell to transferring all items of cumbersome or dangerous nature to the Markomannia. Near dusk the Mark dipped her colors in good-luck salute and steamed away toward the rendezvous appointed for the next morning. When she was gone, all hands were turned out on deck and ordered to bathe and put on fresh clothing; standard practice in the tropics, where a dirty piece of cotton singlet shredded in a gunshot wound might mean death for a seaman. Gangrene was swift in that climate.
At dusk von Muecke's false funnel was hoisted into place so that if she were seen in silhouette the Emden might not be immediately recognized. An hour later the oscillating flash of Madras Light came into view on the horizon and the men were sent to battle stations. Tension ran high.
"Zum Teufel!" Von Muecke glanced at von Mueller in the reflected glow of the binnacle. "They are confident!"
Von Mueller chuckled. "No doubt they believe we would not dare attack them here in their own yard, so to speak. The better for us. Call the engine room, Kapitanleutnant, and be sure we are all clear for full speed!"
"Aye, aye, sir!" von Muecke replied, and a moment later, "Engine room reports all clear, Herr Kapitan. Steam on all boilers."
"Thank you, Helmuth! Come as close within range as possible without being observed. We will approach in total darkness. No lights of any sort until they are ordered—then only as they are ordered. I want that made fully clear."
"Jawohl, Herr Kapitan!"
Aft, in the torpedo flat, Franz von Hohenzollern reported readiness to Kurt Witthoeft. Then since the Captain himself had said it was unlikely that the torpedoes would be needed, he turned temporary command of the flat over to Chief Torpedoman Fritz Toler and clambered up on deck to join his friend Hans von Levetzow at the after battery. From that position, if it were necessary, he could whisk down into his station in the wink of an eye. In the meantime he could see the action. Strictly speaking, it was a serious breach of discipline. But it was a temptation that von Hohenzollern could not resist.
It was full dark when he came on deck, and not only the lighthouse at the end of the mole was clearly visible. All around the harbor, for a distance of nearly fifteen miles, the shore and harbor lights burned like a string of fireflies on a chain, while in the center, behind them, the whole city itself seemed a sea of glowing light. Against it a number of ships in the harbor—none apparently warships—the mole itself, and even the massed oil tanks on shore, to the north of the city, stood out in plain relief.
As Franz slipped into the after battery, von Levetzow glanced around. "Franz! Zum Teufel! You are supposed to be down below. What are you doing here?"
"Don't be stuffy, Hans! The Old Man said there'd probably be no need for us. If there is, I can be down in a second."
Von Levetzow shrugged. "It's your hide."
The Emden pressed in more swiftly now, using the lights on the mole and inshore to line up the battery and oil tanks. By 10 P.M. they were in position, about three thousand yards offshore. Von Mueller gave the order. "Port your helm, Herr von Muecke! Bring the starboard batteries, fore and aft, to bear."
"Jawohl, Herr Kapitan!"
The ship began to swing.
"Searchlights!" commanded von Mueller.
Twin fingers of dazzling light jabbed through the darkness to pinpoint the battery and oil tanks.
"Open fire!"
The Emden seemed to lift from the water under the shock of that first salvo. Aboard they could hear the scream of the shells as they streaked inland. An explosion or two burst amid the oil tanks, but the rest seemed to fall far beyond.
"Too high!" Dirk Gaede snapped into his communications phone. "All batteries, trim sights, down ten!"
"Down ten—down ten!" came the responses.
"Fire!"
This time the hits were clean. Fires blossomed. Two shells burst on the mole and one on board a ship lying alongside. A few seemed to take effect in the battery.
In the after battery von Levetzow remarked to von Hohenzollern, "We caught them napping that time, but they'll be aroused by now. Once they open up with the shore battery, it won't be so easy. They have 5.9's there."