‘No, you go,’ I said. ‘Let me stay.’
‘There’s no time for argument,’ was the curt reply.
I realised that his decision was final. Freya was already clambering out. I followed her, with David close at my heels. The first thing I noticed as I jumped on to the deck was the gap left by the torpedo boat. The great derrick boom was swung over the side of the ship. I slipped down at the rear of the tank just as a bullet ricocheted off the armour plating. An instant later the whole vehicle shook as Schmidt fired straight into the centre of the bridge.
No more shots were fired after that. We slid down a rope ladder into the boat. Freya went aft to get the engine going, whilst David and I manned the machine-guns. Close above our heads hung the great girder on which the boat had been lowered. The moments seemed like hours. And every minute the two destroyers were coming closer. I could see the swastika flags quite clearly now.
Suddenly there was a roar overhead and a large plane swept by black against the sun. I looked round the packed boat. It hardly seemed as though we had a chance. As soon as we were clear of the Thirlmere we should be under fire from the destroyers. And now there was this plane. An instant later the engine came to life. Still we waited. Then came the sound of three shots, clear and distinct above the noise of the engine. I looked up just as Schmidt swung himself over the side and slid on to the deck. At the same moment the engine roared again and we began to move, swinging away from the side of the Thirlmere.
I glanced back to see Freya, her hair blowing free in the gathering wind of our movement, holding the wheel, her face splodged with grease and a smile on her lips. Behind her towered the bulk of the Thirlmere. Figures were moving on the broken bridge structure. A rifle cracked and then another. I swung my gun on to these tiny targets and opened fire.
When I next glanced back, Freya had handed the wheel to her father and was moving towards the engine hatch. She caught my eyes as she disappeared. There was the light of battle in her eyes and she lifted the small object that hung from a chain round her neck. For an instant I did not understand the significance of her gesture. Then I realised that this was the key to the special valve. For the first time the Schmidt Diesel engine was to show its paces.
A few minutes later the boat seemed to leap forward in the water, and the high-pitched drone of the engine almost drowned the clatter of my gun. The bows rose high out of the water and the spray swept from them in two great curves that glinted in the sunlight with rainbow tints. In an instant it seemed we were out of range.
As soon as I joined Schmidt in the deckhouse I knew that he was wounded. His left arm hung limp from the shoulder and a dark stain showed just above the elbow. But he refused to hand the wheel to anyone. ‘It’s only a scratch,’ he yelled at me, and his face was a white mask in which his eyes glowed feverishly like coals.
Above the roar of the engine the distant boom of a gun sounded — then another and another. Three great fountains of water shot up ahead of us. Schmidt swung the wheel over and the boat skidded round on her stern. Behind us I could see the bow waves of the two destroyers white and menacing. The hunt was up and I could not believe that we could possibly escape from those sharp-nosed sea hounds. Boom, boom, boom! More fountains of spray, this time only fifty yards on the port bow. Again the boat skidded in a great curve as the wheel went hard over. The water creamed in our wake, a huge half circle of foam-flecked sea. The day was perfect.
Then suddenly a shadow swept like a huge bird across the sea, and down across our stern came the plane. Schmidt swung the boat away to port again. The aircraft swept past only fifty feet above our heads. David had swung his gun on to it. But he did not fire, for as she climbed steeply up into the azure blue of the sky, the sun glinted on her wings, showing us the triple circles of the Royal Air Force against the drab grey and green of her camouflage paint.
More shells, this time astern. Over went the wheel again. With shaded eyes I watched the flight of the aircraft. She had circled in a great bank and was now headed back towards the destroyers. I watched her, fascinated. She had climbed to about a thousand feet. But instead of attacking the German destroyers, she skirted them and swept on to the Thirlmere, now no more than a drab grey toy ship far astern.
When she was no more than a speck in the sky, the size of a gull, the plane dived. She swept over the Thirlmere. Six tiny dots slipped from beneath her. She must have straddled the ship nicely, for an instant later the Thirlmere seemed to burst into a thousand fragments. Even at that distance the roar of the explosion was shatteringly loud. For a while a pall of smoke hung like a cloud over the spot where the Thirlmere had been. When it cleared away, the sea beyond the two German destroyers was clear to the horizon.
A moment later the clatter of the destroyers’ pompoms sounded as the aircraft dived to the attack of our pursuers. But already we were drawing away from them at a tremendous pace, the whole boat shuddering under our feet as though at any moment the engine must shake loose from its mountings. And hull down on the horizon ahead we saw two ships. They grew rapidly larger and Schmidt swung our own boat away to port with the intention of skirting them. But David, who had found a pair of glasses in the control room, reported that they were flying the white ensign. It was, in fact, the Thirlmere’s late escort in company with another destroyer. We closed with them shortly before noon and the enemy destroyers then sheered off. Just before twelve-thirty we were joined by three Avro Ansons of the Coastal Command.
Freya came up the companionway from the engine-room a little later. Her wide eyes were alight with excitement. She went for’ard towards her father who was still at the wheel. As she came abreast of where I stood beside my gun, she paused and looked up into my face. ‘I’m so happy,’ she said. And then suddenly my heart was jumping at the touch of her hand on mine. ‘We owe so much to you,’ she added. ‘I want you to know…’
But her words were drowned in the clamour of the pom-poms on the destroyers. Three black specks swept down at us out of the sun. The roar of them rose to a scream that drowned the thunder of the guns. Huge spouts of water rose all around us. There was no doubt that we and not the destroyers were the target. Suddenly they were no longer black specks but huge winged objects in silhouette against the blue sky as they swept up out of the dive. Three more followed. More spouts of water. The deck was soaked with spray so that the water ran green in the scuppers. They were Heinkels and down behind them came the three Ansons. One of the Heinkels failed to pull out of its dive and hit the water with a crack of broken metal within a hundred yards of us.
And when that first dive was over and we remained miraculously unhit, I found my arm was about Freya and she was clinging to my coat as though for protection from the rain of high explosive. I did not move, and we stood there watching the Avros scrapping with the Heinkels a thousand feet above us in the blue. A squadron of Hurricanes appeared suddenly from the west. The Heinkels broke and with their noses down made off into the sun. The Hurricanes circled above us, and the rest of the way to Harwich we had an escort of fighters. Twice enemy aircraft were sighted, but each time they made off.
The aircraft that had destroyed the Thirlmere was not able to press home her attack on the German destroyers owing to a shortage of bombs. She circled lazily round us like a great buzzard as our little procession made for home. Half an hour later she was joined by three more machines of the Coastal Command.