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have fluorescent water out there.
He adjusted the handles and looked around, turning a few
times, then he sent the periscope down into its well.
 Take her down to 200 metres, Henk. Rig for silent running.
Both slow ahead.
 Both slow ahead, sir, the helmsman confirmed and reset the
machine telegraph.  Rig for silent running.
The message went through the boat and all auxiliary machin-
ery was switched off.
 How much under the keel, Brimstein? the captain asked.
 Five thousand metres, sir, Brimstein read off the echo-
sounder.  Bottom seems to rise here.
 Switch off the echo-sounder, the captain ordered.
Like a predatory cat on the prowl in the African savannah, the
boat proceeded in total silence, trying to sneak past the waiting
enemy. A faint, eerie sound could be heard in the far distance. It
was a sound like a church organ being played across the valley. It
was a threatening noise, generated by a dozen warship turbines,
and it did not go away. Slowly it increased in volume, like
approaching doom.
 Take her down to 250 metres, Henk.
 Two hundred fifty metres, John, the L.I. confirmed, screw-
ing up his face in protest, but gave his instructions to his men.
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Arthur Baudzus
The boat assumed a nose-down attitude and went down, fol-
lowed by the rotating needle of the depth gauge. Gently, at 250
metres, it levelled out and the bubble settled in the centre. With the
needle stopped on nearly the maximum it was a hair-raising expe-
rience, but the boat had twice before been that deep and survived.
Again it was groaning under the strain.
 Keep her going with both slow ahead. The boat was making
just two knots.
The sound above had become louder, and vibrated the hull like
a church organ introducing a hymn before a prayer. The men s
eyes went along the curves of the hull, which amplified that dread-
ful sound. That hull was all that stood between life and death for
them.
Suddenly they were all thrown off their feet as the boat came
to a sliding halt.
What was that? Had they hit a whale?
 We ve run aground. Henning mumbled into his beard.
 In 5,000 metres? the L.I. asked, incredulous.
 There s a ridge here. Henning looked at the chart.  It is the
Lakadive Plateau. It must be some uncharted elevation here. Stop
both engines.
 Stop both engines, sir, the helmsman confirmed.
 We'll leave her here for a while, Henk, Henning ordered.
 We ll just keep listening and hope for the best.
He sat down by the chart table and, brooding, he looked down
on the Lakadive Plateau, which should have been 500 metres
below the surface, but had elected to rise to 250 to envelop him in
its arms. He chuckled inwardly. If this was not a sign that there
was a merciful God, then he did not know what to believe. When
he got home he would have to look into that more thoroughly.
 They re coming, he said to the L.I., in a low voice.  You can
hear the fast propeller noises and turbines. Big machines. Some-
thing like a whole fleet with aircraft carriers, cruisers and destroy-
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ers. Looks like the whole of Britain has risen to put a stop to our
cruise.
 They might not be after us, the L.I. ventured hopefully.
 Maybe they re heading somewhere else maybe to India and
are just passing by.
 Maybe, Henning admitted.  Let s think positive. I m only
disturbed that they had us on radar, even if it was only for a
moment.
The humming sound of the turbines was now accompanied by
the throbbing of their propellers, which vibrated against the hull of
the resting boat. The noise was steadily growing in volume, like
judgment day descending on the resting boat.
The widened eyes of the crew kept scanning the hull, which
threatened to crack under the resounding sound of a dozen trains
approaching. Then the Asdic joined in, transmitted from several
sources.
The crew felt their hair stand on end when the noise above
shook the boat, rising to an ear-shattering crescendo. The fleet was
right overhead, and the men pulled in their heads. No bombs were
falling.
 We must have merged into the mud, Henning observed.
 That way the Asdic didn t find us.
The sound above decreased steadily, as it had increased
before, indicating that the enemy had not detected them and had
kept on hunting. It was high time that they made tracks before the
enemy turned around for another search.
 Both slow ahead and take her up to 100 metres, Henning
said, and rose when the noise had faded away.
The boat did not move.
 Both slow reverse, the captain corrected his command.
The boat vibrated as the propellers spun half-blade deep in the
soft mud. Vainly, they tried to pull the boat from the suction effect
of the muddy cradle into which it had been driven.
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Arthur Baudzus
 Both full reverse, called the captain.
The boat shuddered, with the propellers spinning at full speed,
but still the boat did not move.
 Stop the engines, Henning called, and looked at the L.I.
Silence, more ominous than reassuring, told the crew in the com-
mand room that they were trapped. A thin jet of water from a leak-
ing rivet hissed into the hull like a cutting torch. Being on the
fringe of the calculated destruction depth made the boat extremely
vulnerable to additional stress.
They could not even abandon the boat with their breathing
apparatus, as rehearsed at U-boat school. They were too deep.
Henning considered their situation. The elevation at the bot-
tom of the sea had been a blessing when it rescued them, but now
it could spell their final doom. The engines had failed to pull the
boat free, so now it was a job for the L.I. and his ballast tanks.
 Pull her out, Henk, Henning said calmly.
 Blow ballast tanks! the L.I. commanded, and compressed air
hissed into the ballast tanks and pressed the water out. The L.I.
hoped that the mud hadn t clogged up the flood gates at the bottom
of the ballast tanks, and quickly stopped blowing before the pres-
sure in the tanks became dangerously high.
The boat shuddered, but still refused to rise. The suction of the
silt had a tight grip on the boat.
 Pump aft trim tank forward, the L.I. ordered.
The electric pump was humming for a few minutes, then the
command:  Both full reverse!
The boat stirred, then abruptly rose by the stern. Men and
loose items tumbled toward the forward bulkheads as the boat
pulled free and rose.
Calmly, the L.I. restored the boat s balance with pumps and air
and directed it up to 100 metres. The boat was under the planes-
men s control again. The L.I. released his crossed fingertips,
kissed them and placed them on the bulkhead.  Good girl, he
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U-859
voiced his thoughts.  I knew I could rely on you. He produced a
handkerchief and wiped the cold sweat from his face.
 Both full ahead! came the sudden command from the cap-
tain. At this moment he did not care about batteries and endurance
of the boat. He simply felt like a man chased in a bad dream, and
he had to escape his pursuers at all cost.
Robert had watched the last manoeuvres from his bunk. Being
a naval officer himself, he had a fair idea what was going on. They
lived dangerously, his enemies. When he had first set foot on this
boat, he had not known what he was letting himself in for. Had he
known all that before, maybe it would have been better to just dis-
embark there in the icy waters of the Rose Garden and take his
chances of being rescued there. Now it was too late. Now he was
trapped along with them, for better or worse, and with Uncle Hux
chasing them relentlessly.
Anyhow, Henning seemed to have slipped through yet another
blockade. This was something to be grateful for. Not for Uncle
Hux, of course. But then, for the time being Robert s ambitions
were not on the same level as McCain s. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]