THE MOTHER SHIP
News of the capture of the German U-boat had preceded the returning squadron and a great reception was accorded the American submarine and its gallant crew as it came to anchor again in the harbor at Chatham. Several American warships were at anchor with other units of the British and French fleets, and thousands of sailors lined the decks to cheer the plucky Dewey as it wended its way to its anchorage, accompanied by the destroyer Farragut, the latter towing the captive German submarine.
During the days that followed, Jack and Ted found themselves lionized wherever they went while on shore duty. News of the capture had spread throughout England and France, and the censors had permitted a generous account of the affair to be forwarded by cable to the United States.
Letters and messages reached the boys, but none that pleased them more, amid all the adulation heaped upon them, than a simple cablegram of a few words, forwarded from Brighton Academy that read: "Hearty congratulations. We knew you would make good, and we are proud of you." "The Brighton Boys."
Closer inspection of the captured U-boat by American and English naval officers proved it to be one of the very latest and improved types of German undersea craft. It was a vessel of a thousand tons displacement and more than three hundred feet long, capable of a surface speed of twenty knots an hour and propelled by twin engines of eight thousand horsepower. The hull was constructed of double steel—-virtually one hull within another—-and the space between hulls given over to the storage of fuel oil, thus increasing the cruising radius of the vessel by permitting the carrying of more fuel. The periscopes were of the telescopic variety that could be raised and lowered.
"What do you suppose they will do with our prize?" asked Jack one afternoon about a week after they had returned from their adventurous voyage. He was talking to "Little Mack," who was supervising some repairs to the Dewey.
The submarine commander's eyes twinkled. "I reckon they'll turn her right in against the Germans," was his reply.
"Do you suppose they will man her with a crew from the American fleet?" pursued Jack.
"Haven't the least doubt of it," answered his chief. "Some of my boys may be taken to fill up her crew and I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they light on you.
"But not with my permission," continued McClure after a pause.
Jack was pleased at the compliment and hastened to assure his commander that he hoped always to remain with him for the war. Jack's brave fight to save his captain from the sea in the encounter with the floating mine, together with the experiences they had shared the last two weeks, had endeared these two to each other, and while there was a difference of some ten years in their ages, they were close friends.
Commander McClure's surmises as to the disposition of the U-boat were correct, as subsequent events showed. Chief Engineer Blaine and his staff of the Dewey were assigned to the U-boat with orders to familiarize themselves with the operation of the vessel as quickly as possible. American deck guns were being substituted for the German guns and alterations being made in the torpedo tubes to accommodate made-in-america torpedoes.
Returning to the naval station one afternoon from shore-leave, Commander McClure drew Jack aside to announce briefly that he had just received orders transferring him from the Dewey to command of the U-boat. Executive Officer Cleary, with a portion of the Dewey's crew, had been detailed to remain in Chatham with the American submarine. It was to undergo extensive repairs after its perilous adventure on the bottom of the sea.
"And now I have a surprise for you," smiled "Little Mack," as he took from his inner pocket an official-looking envelope and handed it to Jack. The latter took the proffered envelope and tore it open. What he read therein was enough to make any ambitious young American submarine sailor open his eyes.
It was an official order announcing the appointment of Jack as an ensign with an assignment to the captured U-boat as executive officer under Lieutenant-commander McClure!
Jack could scarce believe what he read and was so dumbfounded he could not speak for some minutes.
"And our friend Wainwright is to be with us, too," continued McClure.
"You mean Ted Wainwright?" asked Jack.
"Yes, he will be my aide and relieve the wireless operator at times," explained "Little Mack." "As a matter of fact," he continued, "I will ship the most of my old crew on the U-boat. The Dewey will be out of service for some time and Cleary will probably take her out on her next voyage with a brand new crew."
Jack excused himself in a few minutes to hurry away and acquaint Ted with the news. He found his chum writing letters and broke the news to him. The two did a fine young hornpipe dance, so delighted were they over the fact that they had been assigned together to the same vessel again—-and to the famous U-boat.
The next ten days were taken up by the new officers of the U-boat in acquainting themselves thoroughly with the operation of the captured craft, and in preparations for the new trip to sea. Latest news from the front had shown the Allies closing in on the German naval bases along the North Sea front. The combined armies of the Americans, the French and the British under one commander had driven the Huns northward till Zeebrugge was in danger of being wrested from them. Consequently, the American lads were anxious to get into the fray with their powerful new vessel.
"What are they going to call our new Kaiser-buster?" asked Jack of his chief one morning while they were inspecting the ship's storage tanks.
"So far as the Germans are concerned she is still the U-91," said the little captain. "You notice that we haven't changed the outside dress of her a single bit. Unless I lose my guess we are going to get pretty close to the Boche with this old boat of theirs."
And then "Little Mack" confided to Jack that the German code book had been captured with the U-boat, and that, furthermore, the U-91 had shipped as her wireless chief a former secret-service chap, Hal Bonte, who had worked for a time in the offices of a German-American steamship line in New York and knew the German language "like a breeze."
"Of course the U-91 has been re-named," continued the captain. "She will be known hereafter in the navy department records as the Monitor. You remember what that other Monitor did."
And Jack, of course, recalled at once the famous battle in Hampton Roads during the Civil War when the little cheesebox of John Ericsson had whipped the much touted Merrimac after the Confederate terror had completely dominated the Federal fleet and for a time wrested the prestige of the sea from the Union.
"Pretty good record to live up to," commented Jack as he recalled the feats of the famous little Ironsides that had saved the day for the Union.
"And you bet we'll do it," retaliated his chief.
It was not long before the Monitor was ready to put to sea again. Thoroughly equipped, her captain and crew familiarized with the operation of their new craft after a number of trial trips in English waters, she awaited only the call of duty that would send her forth for daring exploits against the Hohenzollern navy—-a German submarine born of steel out of the great Krupp works and put together in the yards at Wilhelmshaven turned against her own sister ships under the direction of a doughty Yankee crew!
At last came the order to move, an order received with great acclaim down in the hold of the massive steel structure where her crew of forty-two men laid wagers on the number of ships they would sink, and up in the conning tower where her officers fretted to be loose again in the North Sea. The Monitor carried eight torpedoes and several tons of shells for her deck guns, while her fuel tanks had enough oil to keep her afloat for many days.
During the next few weeks the world was startled by the exploits of some daredevil sort of a submarine that seemed to have an uncanny habit of turning up right in the heart of German fleets. Units of the German navy were being sunk with ridiculous ease. U-boat bases were raided and upon one occasion the mystery submarine had worked its way into a German harbor and blown up a cruiser.
Late one afternoon, just before dusk, the Monitor fell in with a submarine of unusual length and depth, a monster vessel of the type of the famous Deutschland that had made the memorable transatlantic voyage earlier in the war, but of even greater displacement.
Running partly submerged the Monitor had sighted the big fellow several miles astern. Jack was in the conning tower at the wheel when he noticed the U-boat across the water.
"Looks like an undersea cargo boat," said Jack after he had reported to McClure, and the two stood gazing intently at it through the periscopes.
"The Germans aren't trading with cross-atlantic nations any more," said "Little Mack" with a grim smile. "Most likely she is a mother ship for submarines. She has her wireless antenna up and is talking to some one. Suppose we go above and get in communication with her."
Accordingly, the engines were slowed down and the Monitor ascended until she was awash. In that position her wireless aerials, telescopically arranged like her periscopes, were run out and the wires strung.
Almost immediately she "cut in" on the big submersible.
At that moment the latter vessel spoke the Monitor and wanted to know who she was.
"Tell him the U-108 out of Zeebrugge," the American skipper told his wireless chief.
The message, in German code, was clicked out by Hal Bonte.
For a few minutes the two ships flung their wave lengths at each other and then the Monitor's operator closed the key to say to his chief:
"That chap over there is the Bergerhof, mother ship of the German U-boat fleet with supplies of fuel and food for our enemy's submarines. She is keeping a tryst here with her children and expects them at this rendezvous within the next two hours. After which the well-filled children are to visit the English channel and attack a group of transports scheduled for convoy to France the following night. She signals us to heave to and wait the appointed time."
McClure chuckled at the announcement.
"Just as I thought. Give them an O.K. in your best German," was his rejoinder.