81
still, and I had my doubts about Kaptein Denny's gale forecast.
I collected the tape from the grim, cold cottage and returned thankfully to the bunkhouse fire.
But my moment had passed as far as Kaptein Denny was concerned. He sat poker-faced and listened with an impenetrable, impassive air while Jutta re-ran the recording. Even the final drama failed to send him, although it had Koch chain-smoking and made me forget to ask him whether the U-boat's two torpedoes which missed the liner had exploded against Possession's cliffs. Even Breekbout-who didn't understand most of it, was infected to the extent of helping himself, unasked, to a few more drinks.
When it ended we waited for Kaptein Denny's reaction. He said in a strained, tired voice, 'That was like a conversation with a voice from the grave.'
I said, 'You must have seen what happened to U-I60! You were there!'
'My activities really began in a big way where it leaves off. The liner ran ashore: I went to help, as you know.'
'You and the U-boat must have passed smack next to each other, on opposite courses in the channel,'
'Maybe.'
'Surely you spotted her!'
'It was foggy. Very thick. A wild night. The liner was my only concern.'
'The explosion of Gousblom's magazine must have lit up the whole channel.'
'It did–for a moment.'
'Yet, you never spotted U-I60?'
'No. I sighted a lot of oil later.'
The oil was in the north. You took the southern exit. You said so yourself.'
'I went backward and forward all night to the City o/ Baroda. The sea was breaking right across her. The passengers jumped form the stern to reach my boat. She was still among the breakers and not far up on the rocks, like now. When I left next day I could see the oil–and the warships waiting.'
I couldn't fault him and he wouldn't be drawn, so dropped questioning him further. But his attitude served only to keep the finger on him as far as Koch and I were concerned. Jutta didn't mention what I'd told her about the 82
underlying reason for Gousblom's sortie into the channel Nor did I ... at least, not until the early hours of them following morning. She'd stayed by the fire for a long time and I had finally seen her back to the cheerless cottage. I didn't blame her for not wanting to be there, especially alone. The fog was thicker than ever.
I slept fitfully, and so much on a hair-trigger, that I was already awake at some other noise before a violent knocking at the bunkhouse door had me on my feet and racing for it Kaptein Denny leapt up at the same instant. It was Jutta. She was shoeless and had been sleeping In her old shore clothes.
I didn't have to ask what it was when I wrenched open the door. I felt the sound in my belly. It wasn't the sharp retching crack of small-arms, but a flight of deep decibels through the darkness which socked one below the diaphragm. She might have been Possession's lady ghost herself, she was so white.
"The sound of guns",' she whispered,
83
C H A P T E R S E V E N
It wasn't-guns, of course. But what was it?
Kaptein Denny and I ran outside, but Jutta kept to the doorway. Denny stood listening and swinging his head about like a radar scanner. The fog was warmer and clammier. The past was unwinding and rewinding like Jutta's tape machine. It underscored Gousblom's act of blind courage. I said in a murmur to Jutta, as if a human voice could possibly have erased the mysterious sound, 'In the Royal Navy it is a captain's prerogative to steer for the sound of guns – Nelson started it'
`What ... what . . .?' she began, but Koch yelled from his bunk, `Struan–what the hell gives?'
I shut him up. It was only nerves-because you couldn't miss that deep horizon-thudding sound again.
We waited. We strained our ears. It didn't come again. Then Kaptein Denny asked, as softly as a hoarse whisper could be soft, 'What did you say about guns?'
I gave him a collapsed version of the Convoy WV.5BX
affair ... 'Here!' I exclaimed, 'why am I telling you this? You
still, and I had my doubts about Kaptein Denny's gale forecast.
I collected the tape from the grim, cold cottage and returned thankfully to the bunkhouse fire.
But my moment had passed as far as Kaptein Denny was concerned. He sat poker-faced and listened with an impenetrable, impassive air while Jutta re-ran the recording. Even the final drama failed to send him, although it had Koch chain-smoking and made me forget to ask him whether the U-boat's two torpedoes which missed the liner had exploded against Possession's cliffs. Even Breekbout-who didn't understand most of it, was infected to the extent of helping himself, unasked, to a few more drinks.
When it ended we waited for Kaptein Denny's reaction. He said in a strained, tired voice, 'That was like a conversation with a voice from the grave.'
I said, 'You must have seen what happened to U-I60! You were there!'
'My activities really began in a big way where it leaves off. The liner ran ashore: I went to help, as you know.'
'You and the U-boat must have passed smack next to each other, on opposite courses in the channel,'
'Maybe.'
'Surely you spotted her!'
'It was foggy. Very thick. A wild night. The liner was my only concern.'
'The explosion of Gousblom's magazine must have lit up the whole channel.'
'It did–for a moment.'
'Yet, you never spotted U-I60?'
'No. I sighted a lot of oil later.'
The oil was in the north. You took the southern exit. You said so yourself.'
'I went backward and forward all night to the City o/ Baroda. The sea was breaking right across her. The passengers jumped form the stern to reach my boat. She was still among the breakers and not far up on the rocks, like now. When I left next day I could see the oil–and the warships waiting.'
I couldn't fault him and he wouldn't be drawn, so dropped questioning him further. But his attitude served only to keep the finger on him as far as Koch and I were concerned. Jutta didn't mention what I'd told her about the 82
underlying reason for Gousblom's sortie into the channel Nor did I ... at least, not until the early hours of them following morning. She'd stayed by the fire for a long time and I had finally seen her back to the cheerless cottage. I didn't blame her for not wanting to be there, especially alone. The fog was thicker than ever.
I slept fitfully, and so much on a hair-trigger, that I was already awake at some other noise before a violent knocking at the bunkhouse door had me on my feet and racing for it Kaptein Denny leapt up at the same instant. It was Jutta. She was shoeless and had been sleeping In her old shore clothes.
I didn't have to ask what it was when I wrenched open the door. I felt the sound in my belly. It wasn't the sharp retching crack of small-arms, but a flight of deep decibels through the darkness which socked one below the diaphragm. She might have been Possession's lady ghost herself, she was so white.
"The sound of guns",' she whispered,
83
C H A P T E R S E V E N
It wasn't-guns, of course. But what was it?
Kaptein Denny and I ran outside, but Jutta kept to the doorway. Denny stood listening and swinging his head about like a radar scanner. The fog was warmer and clammier. The past was unwinding and rewinding like Jutta's tape machine. It underscored Gousblom's act of blind courage. I said in a murmur to Jutta, as if a human voice could possibly have erased the mysterious sound, 'In the Royal Navy it is a captain's prerogative to steer for the sound of guns – Nelson started it'
`What ... what . . .?' she began, but Koch yelled from his bunk, `Struan–what the hell gives?'
I shut him up. It was only nerves-because you couldn't miss that deep horizon-thudding sound again.
We waited. We strained our ears. It didn't come again. Then Kaptein Denny asked, as softly as a hoarse whisper could be soft, 'What did you say about guns?'
I gave him a collapsed version of the Convoy WV.5BX
affair ... 'Here!' I exclaimed, 'why am I telling you this? You
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