H. M. S. Ulysses Read Online Free PDF Page A

reports, no Asdic contacts, no sign of the German Grand Fleet steaming through the boom—’
    â€˜She’s signalling us, sir!’ It was Bentley speaking, Bentley the Chief Yeoman of Signals. He paused and went on slowly: ‘Proceed to our anchorage at once. Make fast to north buoy.’
    â€˜Ask them to confirm,’ Vallery snapped. He took the fo’c’sle phone from the communication rating.
    â€˜Captain here, Number One. How is she? Up and down? Good.’
    He turned to the officer of the watch. ‘Slow ahead both: Starboard 10.’ He looked over at Tyndall’s corner, brows wrinkled in question.
    â€˜Search me,’ Tyndall growled. ‘Could be the latest in parlour games—a sort of nautical musical chairs, you know . . . Wait a minute, though! Look! The Cumberland —all her 5.25’s are at maximum depression!’
    Vallery’s eyes met his.
    â€˜No, it can’t be! Good God, do you think—?’
    The blare of the Asdic loudspeaker, from the cabinet immediately abaft of the bridge, gave him his answer. The voice of Leading Asdic Operation Chrysler was clear, unhurried.
    â€˜Asdic—bridge. Asdic—bridge. Echo, Red 30. Repeat, Red 30. Strengthening. Closing.’
    The captain’s incredulity leapt and died in the same second.
    â€˜Alert Director Control! Red 30. All AA guns maximum depression. Underwater target. Torps’—this to Lieutenant Marshall, the Canadian Torpedo Officer—“depth charge stations”.’
    He turned back to Tyndall.
    â€˜It can’t be, sir—it just can’t! A U-boat—I presume it is—in Scapa Flow. Impossible!’
    â€˜Prien didn’t think so,’ Tyndall grunted.
    â€˜Prien?’
    â€˜Kapitan-Leutnant Prien—gent who scuppered the Royal Oak .’
    â€˜It couldn’t happen again. The new boom defences—’
    â€˜Would keep out any normal submarines,’ Tyndall finished. His voice dropped to a murmur. ‘Remember what we were told last month about our midget two-man subs—the chariots? The ones to be taken over to Norway by Norwegian fishing-boats operating from the Shetlands. Could be that the Germans have hit on the same idea.’
    â€˜Could be,’ Vallery agreed. He nodded sardonically. ‘Just look at the Cumberland go—straight for the boom.’ He paused for a few seconds, his eyes speculative, then looked back at Tyndall. ‘How do you like it, sir?’
    â€˜Like what, Captain?’
    â€˜Playing Aunt Sally at the fair.’ Vallery grinned crookedly. ‘Can’t afford to lose umpteen million pounds worth of capital ship. So the old Duke hares out to sea and safety, while we moor near her anchor berth. You can bet German Naval Intelligence has the bearing of her anchorage down to a couple of inches. These midget subs carry detachable warheads and if there’s going to be any fitted, they’re going to be fitted to us.’
    Tyndall looked at him. His face was expressionless. Asdic reports were continuous, reporting steady bearing to port and closing distances.
    â€˜Of course, of course,’ the Admiral murmured. ‘We’re the whipping boy. Gad, it makes me feel bad!’ His mouth twisted and he laughed mirthlessly. ‘Me? This is the final straw for the crew. That hellish last trip, the mutiny, the marine boarding party from the Cumberland , action stations in harbour—and now this! Risking our necks for that—that . . . ’ He broke off, spluttering, swore in anger, then resumed quietly:
    â€˜What are you going to tell the men, Captain? Good God, it’s fantastic! I feel like mutiny myself . . . ’ He stopped short, looked inquiringly past Vallery’s shoulder.
    The Captain turned round.
    â€˜Yes, Marshall?’
    â€˜Excuse me, sir. This—er—echo.’ He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘A sub, sir—possibly a pretty small