The Thick of the Fray at Zeebrugge, April 1918 Read online

  CHAPTER III

  Count Otto

  "By Jupiter, old man!" exclaimed little Browning, surgeon-probationerof the destroyer, as he met Seton on the termination of the latter'swatch. "We've netted a fine bird. The skipper's as pleased as a dogwith two tails."

  "One of the most recent types of U-boats?" asked Alec, as heproceeded to divest himself of a portion of his heavy clothing, andto kick off his sea-boots.

  "Better than that, my festive," replied the medico, as he deftlyfilled a tin mug with hot tea--a task not easily accomplished when adestroyer is rolling horribly in a sea-way. "The Hun we fished out isnone other than Count Otto von Brockdorff-Giespert."

  "Explain," said Alec, as he took the proffered cup and gratefullydrained its contents. It mattered nothing that the cup was old andbattered, and that the dregs left by the previous user were floatingin the highly-brewed beverage. In such circumstances one cannot betoo fastidious.

  "What! Not heard of Count Otto von Brockdorff-Giespert?" askedBrowning in mock dismay. "I thought everyone in the destroyer patrolknew of him. He's the fellow who torpedoed the _Bentali_."

  "_Bentali_? Of course, I remember," replied Seton. "A hospital shiphomeward-bound from the Dardanelles. Didn't cotton on to the fellow'stally, though. I'm jolly glad we've collared him. Wonder what they'lldo with him?"

  "Do with him?" echoed the doctor. "Why, put him ashore, send him in acomfy first-class railway carriage to a cushy home for fortunate Hunpirates. Feed him up; let him take a daily jaunt into the nearesttown for the benefit of his health and to prevent boredom. Allow hisfriends to visit him, and all that sort of tosh. My word, we Englishare a rummy race! We carry our humane principles too far, and Fritztakes it as a sign of weakness."

  "It's innate chivalry, I suppose," remarked Seton.

  "Innate foolishness!" corrected Browning with asperity. "If you saw apoisonous snake lying across your path would you pick it up, wrap itin your pocket-handkerchief, and take it out of harm's way? I'd assoon do that as molly-coddle a Hun. I've seen them and their dirtywork, my festive, long before you took to the noble pastime ofFritz-strafing."

  Meanwhile the subject of the discussion was reclining more or less atease upon a settee in the _Bolero's_ ward-room. A fracturedcollar-bone, several minor contusions, and a shock to the nervoussystem summed up the extent of his injuries. The destroyer'ssurgeon-probationer, notwithstanding his vehement denunciations ofvon Brockdorff-Giespert and all his kind, had used all his skill inmitigating the pirate's injuries; and now, slightly under theinfluence of morphia, the Count was pondering over the situation andwondering whether it would have been preferable to have perished withhis crew rather than be taken alive by enemies.

  Von Brockdorff-Giespert believed, and with good reason, that he wason the Black List of the British Admiralty. In the Fatherland he usedto boast of the fact, but different surroundings are apt to change afellow's tune, and now he was beginning to feel truly sorry forhimself.

  The Count was a kapitan-leutnant of the unterseebooten service, andheld a staff appointment at the newly-constructed German base atZeebrugge. The post was given him as a reward for his zealousservices to the All-Highest having claim to the destruction of 60,000tons of Allied mercantile shipping. Most of his victims he sankwithout warning, and in several instances without leaving a trace,while his despicable act of torpedoing the hospital ship _Bentali_ ona dark night and in a very heavy sea was the crowning act of a longlist of piratical outrages.

  While every other country regarded the act with every expression ofhorror, kultured Germany hailed the deed with acclamation. It showedthe thoroughness of Teutonic frightfulness: that Germany meantbusiness. Count Otto received the Iron Cross with swords, and theOrdre pour le Merite. Nevertheless he deemed it advisable for hishealth's sake to give up active submarine work, and becomepermanently attached to the Zeebrugge station for shore duties.

  Unfortunately for him, he had a slight difference with the navalgovernor of the modern pirate base, and the latter revenged himselfby ordering von Brockdorff-Giespert to sea in U 292--not in actualcommand, but as adviser to the proper kapitan-leutnant, aswash-buckling Prussian, of the name of von Bohme.

  U 292 was on her trials when the end came with dramatic suddenness.Von Bohme had no intention of attacking until he had thoroughlytested the sea-going and manoeuvring capabilities of his new command;but the temptation of sinking one of the convoy of merchantmen wastoo strong.

  Von Brockdorff-Giespert's mental and physical activities werecompletely suspended for a period of twelve minutes following thesudden destruction of U 292. At the time of the catastrophe he wasstanding in the compartment immediately under the base of theconning-tower. On the impact of the British shell he formed the hastybut correct impression that the strafed Englander had scored. Heattempted to gain the open air by means of the conning-towerhatchway, but the water-tight lid in the floor was immovably shut andsecured. Water was pouring in through the started rivet-holes andbuckling plates. Below, the nerve-racked Germans were rushingto-and-fro in blind panic, colliding with each other in the dark,confined space, for the impact of the shell had put theelectric-lighting dynamos out of action.

  It was not too much to say that von Brockdorff-Giespert was seized bythe contaminating panic. He was no longer a kapitan-leutnant of thesubmarine staff, but a mere Hun struggling fiercely for life in awholehearted, selfish desire to avoid a death to which thousands ofhis fellow-Huns had been condemned under similar circumstances.

  Then came the paralysing shock, and the tremendous roar of theexploding depth-charge. Rolling completely over, the doomed U-boatbegan to fill rapidly. Struggling for life, half-immersed in theoil-tinged swirling water, gasping in the black, petrol- andnitric-acid-laden fumes, von Brockdorff-Giespert gave himself up forlost. His senses deserted him.

  In an insensible condition he was whirled, by a curious whim of fate,through a gaping hole in the U-boat's bilge. While the rest of hiscompanions in piracy were caught like rats in a trap in their metaltomb, the Staff-kapitan-leutnant was impelled to the surface. Well itwas for him that he wore a life-saving waistcoat. He had worn it dayand night during the trip; surreptitiously lest any of the crewshould make merry at the arrogant Junker's expense. It helped to savehis life: the _Bolero's_ boat completed the task.

  Daybreak found the rescued Hun comfortably in bed in one of theofficers' cabins--comfortable as far as could be expected whilesuffering from a broken collar-bone and various minor bruises andcontusions. He was glad to find himself alive, but in his innatearrogance he could find neither means nor desire to express hisgratitude to his rescuers. Nor was he exactly comfortable in hismind. That little incident of the hospital ship _Bentali_ persistedin recurring. There might be awkward questions asked. But never mind:the English would be afraid to take reprisals upon him. They lookedlike losing the war, consequently they would treat their prisonerswith consideration lest vengeance overtook them.

  It was a truly Prussian view, and one almost implicitly believed inthroughout Germany. It accounted for the humane treatment of Germanprisoners in England. Only those who are bound to win can, accordingto Prussian ideas, override all the articles of the GenevaConvention, With them war was a demonstration ofbrutality--relentless and pitiless. The vanquished was expected toreceive no mercy. When the Huns were worsted they hardly expectedclemency, and when, as prisoners of war, they received both clemencyand a certain amount of consideration they could only put it down tothe faint-heartedness of their captors, who, knowing that they wereon the losing side, were anxious to ingratiate themselves withvictorious Prussia.

  "By Jove! What a pity we've hauled him out of the ditch!" exclaimedSeton, after he had visited the prisoner and had courteously inquiredafter his health. "The fellow looked at me as if I were a Bocheconscript. I'd like to have him in the ship's company for a week--no,I wouldn't. I wouldn't like to think that my men would have to endurehis precious society for five minutes."

  So for the next forty-eight hours Count Otto v
on Brockdorff-Giespertwas left severely alone by the officers of H.M.S. _Bolero_, the oneexception being the doctor, whose efforts for his injured enemy wereuntiring.

  At last the slowly-moving convoy passed Yarmouth and sighted the CorkLightship off the entrance to Harwich Harbour. Here the unwieldytramps were practically immune from hostile action, for the air wasstiff with aircraft and airships, while for miles round the sea wasdotted with swiftly-moving destroyers, M.-L.'s, andsubmarine-chasers. It was no place for Fritz to show his nose, and tohis discretion, if not to his credit, he left the approaches toHarwich severely alone.

  A wireless telegraphist, holding a folded slip of buff paper, ran upthe bridge-ladder, and saluting Alec, who had just taken over asOfficer of the Watch, handed him message.

  "Wireless just gone through, sir," he reported. "General signal tothe convoy."

  Seton took the proffered signal-pad, read the message, and elevatedhis eyebrows. Long experience in naval matters had taught him neverto show unwonted surprise at any order that might come through at anyhour of the day or night. But this, on the face of it, seemedremarkable.

  Briefly, the convoy was to be split up, the major portion going intoHarwich to await further orders. Four of the slowest tramps, escortedby the destroyers, _Bolero_ and _Triadur_, were to proceed to theNord Hinder Lightship, there to stand by until instructions were sentto the destroyers by the S.N.O.

  "Wonder if the tramps are Q-boats after all," soliloquized Alec. "Onedoesn't know t'other from which in these jolly old times. . . . Chanceof luring Fritz and seeing a bit of life, eh, what?"

  Five minutes later the convoy acted according to orders, the twodestroyers and their sluggish charges shaping an easterly coursethrough the mine-infested North Sea.