The wake of the gertrud.., p.40
The Wake of the Gertrud Luth, page 40
Astern of them there was still the sound of firing and tracer shells arced through the fog on the port side as they continued to heel. Then as the tracers fell astern Schepke quickly brought them around on to course, away from the hidden shore.
“She’s still firing!” Altmeyer shouted from the wing.
“She was moored!” Schepke told him. ”They’ll take time to get the hooks up.” Then: “Bahr!” he shouted. “Take the wheel.”
Bahr quickly took over from him, the ship shuddering in every joint and plate as she drove headlong into the mouth of the river.
“Port ten!”
“Port ten! Ten port wheel on, sir!”
Schepke let her run, watching the minutes, taking them further out into the mouth of the river.
“‘Midships!”
“‘Midships! Wheel amidships, sir!”
“Steady!”
“Steady on one-three-two, sir!”
“Steer one-three-five!”
“Course one-three-five, sir!”
He watched the fog swirl in damply across the lifting forepeak. They were far out into the mouth of the river and now the ship was settled into the long lifting motion of the ocean.
“Do you think they’ll come out after us?” Altmeyer asked.
“We’ll be into the Straits tonight.”
“What about Foochow and Amoy? They’ll be watching the Straits.”
“We’ll think about that later,” Schepke told him, and he did not want to think more about the luck now. “Go down and tell the old man and the girl that we’re out.” And while he spoke he took the engine-room receiver from its hook and spun the handle.
“Hans! We’re out!” he shouted into the mouthpiece. “I think we’ll get clear all right if this fog holds! How are things below?”
“We’re still taking water!” Hechler told him, his words almost lost amid the tremendous pound and whine of the engines. “We’ve got all pumps working flat out!”
“I’ll get the hand-pumps rigged as soon as possible! We’ll be altering course again soon and cutting back in toward the mainland! I don’t think they’ll be expecting that!”
“Well I hope it works all right!”
Schepke hung the receiver back on its hook and turned to the window. The fog was swirling in thick and damp across the lifting forepeak, rain streaming from the scuppers. Out on the foredeck the body of the dead Chinese lay sprawled across the tarpaulined cases below the fore mast, the blood washing away now in the cold grey rain.
“Kapitän, sir,” Altmeyer said as he came in. “The old man asks if you can talk with him. His daughter is unconscious again.”
“All right. Stay here until I come back. Keep her just as she is. If you see or hear anything shout!”
The old man stood away from the bunk as he came in. The girl’s breathing was so light there was hardly any movement. Leaning across the bunk, Schepke touched her face and felt the skin cool and clammy.
“When did she get like this again?”
“A little while before it came light,” the old man quietly answered.
“Was there anything else? Any pain?”
“She did not complain of anything. At first I thought she was asleep. Then a little while ago she seemed to be taken with cramp. I have not been able to wake her.”
Schepke bent over the bunk again. The girl’s face was pale and drawn and her breathing very light and irregular.
“Did you see any rash?”
The old man quietly moved his head. “There is nothing showing outwardly,” he said.
Schepke looked at the girl again. “It’s just possible we could try for Taipeh,” he said. “But I don’t promise anything. They’ll be watching the Straits for us now they know we’re out. I think all we can do now is keep her warm. It’s the only thing I know.”
“Thank you. You go back now. I will manage.” He was very tired and the weariness showed in all of him.
As Schepke stepped out into the passage he saw Sam come in from the boatdeck, his eyes big and round at the sight of all the wreckage and debris littering the passage.
“I thought maybe you went with the big cabin.”
Sam shook his head indignantly. “Sam not go with cabin,” he said. “Kamei tell Kuang and I to hide in his cabin.”
“See if you can find any hot-water bottles for the girl.”
“Yes, sir,” Sam said. “Afterward I make coffee for everyone.”
“Sure. You do that, Sam.”
Altmeyer was out on the starboard wing. “See anything?”
“Not a thing, sir.”
Schepke glanced at his wrist watch then looked at the overhead compass. They were well out to the ocean now.
“Starboard ten!”
“Starboard ten! Ten starboard wheel on, sir!” Bahr answered.
He let the Gertrud Lüth come around in the thick swirling fog, rain water streaming from her port scuppers with the tilting deck.
“Meet her!”
“Meet her!” Bahr answered, swinging the wheel around to port and meeting the ship’s head. “Steady on two two-three, sir!”
“Steer two-two-zero!”
“Steer two-two-zero!” Bahr answered. “Course two two-zero, sir!”
“Good. Altmeyer! Get all hands on rigging the pumps. Then get somebody to sew up the dead. Pulst! You give him a hand to take Müller and Cheng below.” He turned to Altmeyer again. “When you’re through on deck go back to the Radio Office and stay there. Don’t break silence unless I tell you. If you do have to send anything, use flash procedure. We’re on the high seas now and any attempt to stop us is an act of piracy. Got that?”
Altmeyer nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“And if there’s any trouble getting those pumps rigged, let me know.”
“Yes, sir.” And Altmeyer was looking at the stiffening bodies of Müller and Cheng.
“All right. Leave them,” Schepke told him. “Get somebody from deck. Pulst! You go below with him and see to the pumps.”
As they left he returned to the windows. The rain was falling in heavily through the windows and the fog was damp and swirling thickly in across the port side.
And above it all the Gertrud Lüth smelled of death and burnt cordite.
81
IT was dark when they buried the bodies. The canvas wrapped shapes slid silently over the wall without any slackening of speed, and now the Gertrud Lüth, black and looming in the darkness of the ocean, drove down into the Straits of Formosa. With the coming of darkness the fog had partially lifted and the ocean was dark and empty and lost in the heavily falling rain. Karl Schepke looked closely at the luminous dial of his wrist watch then raised the night-glasses, searching the darkness beyond the bows. They were still closely off the mainland but in the darkness there was no hint of the rugged coast to starboard.
“Keep her as she is,” he told Pulst.
The old man was sitting by the bunk, the hurricane lamp turned down so low that it barely burned.
“How is she?”
“There is no change,” the old man told him.
The girl lay very still and quiet. Her face had a grey and drawn look now and she breathed very light and flutteringly through her mouth.
“We’ll have to get a doctor. I’ll try and make for Taipeh. But understand,” he said looking at the old man, “I don’t promise anything. We might have to go on.”
Stepping into the sudden blackness of the passage, he felt his way forward to the Radio Office.
“Heard anything?”
Altmeyer pushed the headphones from his ears and swivelled the chart around on the bench. “There’s heavy traffic on the Formosa side,” he said. “Here. Here, and possibly here.” He indicated the areas already marked in pencil.
Schepke studied the marked areas, all three of them spaced out along the Formosa coast. “What about these two?” he asked, pointing at the two other pencilled areas directly ahead of them.
“I’d say they were shore stations,” Altmeyer said.
“They’re all using intermediate. There’s some other stuff too. Very faint. It could be some sort of light craft patrolling the north and south lanes. That’s the best I can do with our RDF.”
Schepke looked again at the chart. To port was the most northerly of the pencilled areas, directly between them and Taipeh.
“We’ll have to go on. We don’t stand a chance of making Taipeh.”
“What about these two ahead of us?”
“If they’re shore stations we’ll ease southward when passing them. What about other traffic? Anything?”
“There’s a couple of Limeys about midway through the Straits. They’re both headed northward. They’ve been talking on and off since darkness.”
“Let me know if you hear anything else.”
He went out and back along the passage to the big cabin.
The girl had not moved.
“I’m sorry. We’ll have to go on. They’re waiting for us off Taipeh.”
The old man did not say anything. He was looking very much older and tired and there were dark pouches under his eyes.
Karl Schepke closed the door quietly and went forward again to the bridge. The night was suddenly cold and lonely and the rain drummed noisily on the flying bridge overhead and streamed down the unbroken windows of the bridge. Then, dropping one of the windows down, he lifted the heavy night-glasses out beyond the bows. Nothing showed in the rain-filled darkness, and he ran the window up and saw Pulst peering at his wristwatch.
“It’s all right,” he told him. “We’re staying this side. They’re waiting for us off Formosa.”
And it was quiet now on the bridge.
82
AT four o’clock in the morning they were well to southward, the rain still falling heavily and the ocean lifting in a short uneasy swell as it was caught up in the tide race through the Straits. Out on the starboard wing Karl Schepke dropped one of the after windows down and carefully searched astern. There was nothing but the quiet and the darkness, and the ghostly white of the wake showing dimly through the falling rain.
“Kapitän, sir!”
“Yes?” Schepke shouted through the doorway.
“That ship to the south is closing rapidly!”
“How long do you give her?”
“An hour,” Altmeyer said, “maybe less.”
“Anything else in the vicinity?”
“No movement anywhere else, sir.”
“All right. Stand by in case we want the wireless. No matter what I tell you, send it. Understand? Stay right by the phone.”
“Yes, sir!”
He crossed the bridge and grabbed the engine-room receiver from its hook.
“Engine-room! Hechler here!”
“Start the lighting dynamos. We’re going to have to bluff our way through. If there’s any shooting give her all you can and cut the dynamos.”
“How long have we got?”
“An hour. Maybe less,” Schepke told him. “How are things below?”
“We’re keeping the water down. I’ve just trimmed her again. With any luck she should see us to Hong Kong.”
“I’ll let you know what’s happening.” He put the receiver back on its hook and dropped the nearest window down. It was still raining heavily, hissing in the blackness of the ocean and running in the scuppers with the lifting of the ship in the short uneasy swell. The breeze had eased some and was now shifted to the port quarter, drumming the rain against the after windows of the wings.
“Pulst! Go down and put the lights on. Everything except the deck and fantail.” He leaned back onto the window and watched the lights come on, their glow reflecting gloomily on the rain-wet foredeck.
“Captain, sir.”
He turned to see Sam come in with the coffee. “Thanks, Sam.”
Sam took the coffee to Bahr then handed Pulst the third mug as he came in.
“That’s all lights except deck and fantail, sir.”
“Good.”
Sam was waiting in the doorway.
“What is it, Sam?”
Sam hesitated. “We dock Hong Kong all right, sir?” he said, finally.
“Sure. Sure, we’ll dock Hong Kong all right, Sam,” Schepke. told him then turned back to the open window, looking toward the south. Everywhere it was dark and only the rain falling gloomily through the pale glow of shipboard lights.
He looked at his wrist watch again then went to the charthouse and took his storm-coat from the door before finding the Lloyd’s Register of Shipping.
“Lights showing three points abaft the port bow!”
Bahr’s shout brought him hurriedly to the bridge. The ship was still some way distant, her lights showing thinly through the falling rain.
“Keep her as she is,” he told them as he threw the hatch open to the flying bridge.
She had already begun her message, the Aldis beam brightly probing the darkness.
requests immediate recognition.
Swinging the port searchlight around, he rapidly hammered the lever, the steel shutters clattering noisily and the reflected beam brilliantly lighting the ocean.
United States Transport Canoga Park outward bound from Okinawa to Hong Kong.
He waited, the rain streaming from his storm-coat and the high peak of his cap. There was no immediate reply and while he waited the Gertrud Lüth drew rapidly ahead.
Then shortly afterward the Aldis came on again.
Request Canoga Park stop immediately.
He waited a moment, seeing her lights swing as she came about.
“Pulst!” he yelled through the open hatchway. ”Tell Altmeyer send: United States Transport Canoga Park intercepted on high seas by unidentified gunboat! Give our position!” Then swinging the searchlight astern, he began a repeat of his previous signal as the gunboat gathered way ahead. Part of the way through a vivid flash showed astern and an orange starshell exploded high overhead of the bridge.
Grabbing the rail, he swung himself in through the hatchway.
Pulst still had the telephone.
“Altmeyer! Send: Canoga Park under fire!” Thrusting the receiver at Pulst he hurried out to the port wing. Dropping the window down, he saw the lights of the gunboat off the port quarter. Then the starshell went out suddenly and everything was darkness again.
“Pulst! Tell Altmeyer: Request immediate assistance! Canoga Park under heavy fire from Communist gunboat!”
The gunboat was still gaining on them, her course about seven or eight hundred meters abeam. She was still gaining on them when suddenly she slackened speed and began to drop astern. Immediately he put the glasses back on her. The superstructure was lost in the darkness and only her steaming lights showed through the rain.
“Pulst! Watch her until I come back!”
Altmeyer was still busy with the key when he went below.
“What’s happening?”
“I think they ordered her to break off! The air’s jammed! Every ship and shore station within a thousand kilometres must be on the air!”
“All right! Make nothing further unless I tell you!”
“She’s just about lost, sir!” Pulst shouted as Schepke entered from below.
Schepke looked at his wrist watch. In little over an hour it would begin to get light. Then glancing at the compass, he crossed to the wing and took the glasses from Pulst. The lights were far astern now and he watched them until they were finally lost, and then there was only the darkness and rain and the sound of the vast ocean. With daylight would come the fog. He could smell it now in the night.
Running the window up, he crossed to the telephones.
“Engine-room! Frauenheim speaking!”
“Is Hechler there?”
“He’s just left for topside.”
“I think we’re through,” Schepke told him. “You can cut the dynamos now. We don’t want to risk anything picking us up again. Tell Dorsch next stop – Hong Kong!” He replaced the receiver and dropped the nearest window down. Outside everything was wet and dark and smelling of the coming fog.
“Karl.”
He turned to see Hechler come in just as the lights flickered briefly and went out.
“We’re through,” he told him.
“Good. I was beginning to wonder if we would ever make it.” Hechler removed his cap and wiped the sweat from his face and forehead with the sleeve of his overalls.
“Captain! Captain, sir!” Sam shouted from below. “Girl very sick!”
Hechler followed them aft to the cabin.
The girl was unconscious, her face contorting with pain as spasms of cramp gripped her body. Schepke looked up from the bunk to Hechler.
“I think now it is cholera,” he heard the old man say.
Hechler nodded but did not say anything.
Schepke stood quietly by the bunk looking down at the girl. “Maybe I should have known,” he said. ”There was something wrong that time at Chingkiang when you came on board. I should have remembered Pao and the ambulances.”
“It is not for you to condemn yourself,” the old man said. “It was I who should have known. Only it did not begin as I have seen it before. With the usual symptoms it generally occurs within the fifth day of infection.”
“We might be wrong,” Schepke suggested, but without hope.
Again Hechler looked at him briefly. Then the old man sat by the bunk and smoothed the hair back from his daughter’s forehead.
“There’s some cramp mixture below,” Hechler said. “I’ll get Frauenheim to send it up.”
“Sam,” Schepke said turning away from the bunk. “You better stay here now that you’ve been with them. Kuang will have to do what he can himself. If you want to sleep you better take Müller’s cabin. You’ll probably be all right but it’s better to keep away from the food.”
“There is nothing we can do?” Sam asked.
Schepke looked at the girl again, her face looking white and pinched as though having come in from the cold.
