âYes. I have to fill out the death certificates.'
âI'll attend to that.'
âThank you, Bo'sun.' Sinclair essayed a smile but it could hardly have been rated as a success. âAs usual, I'll leave the grisly part to you.' With that he was gone, a man glad to be gone. The Bo'sun turned to Jamieson.
âCould I borrow McCrimmon, sir?'
âOf course.'
âMcCrimmon, go and find Curran and Trent, will you? Tell them what's happened. Curran will know what size of canvases to bring.'
âNeedles and thread, Bo'sun?'
âCurran is a sailmaker. Just leave it to him. And you could tell him that it's a clean job this time.'
McCrimmon left and Jamieson said: âA clean job? It's a lousy job. You always get the dirty end of the stick, McKinnon. I honestly don't know how you keep on doing it. If there's anything nasty or unpleasant to be done, you're number one on everybody's list.'
âNot this time I'm not. This time, sir, you're number one on my list. Someone has to tell the Captain. Someone has to tell Mr Patterson. Worst of allâmuch the worst of allâsomeone has to tell the nursing staff. That last is not a job I'd care for at all.'
âThe girls. God, I hadn't thought of that. I don't care for it either. Don't you think, Bo'sunâseeing you know them so well, I meanâ'
âNo, I don't think, sir.' McKinnon half smiled. âSurely as an officer, you wouldn't think of delegating to an underling something you wouldn't do yourself?'
âUnderling! God, that's rich. Very well, never let it be said that I shirked my duty but as from now I feel one degree less sorry for you.'
âYes, sir. One other thing: when this place is clear, would you have a couple of your men weld a patch over this hole in the bulkhead? Heaven
knows they've had enough practice in welding patches recently.'
âOf course. Just let's hope it's the last patch.'
Jamieson left and McKinnon looked idly around him. His attention was caught by a fairly large wooden box in one corner and that only because its lid had been slightly sprung by the shock of the explosion. McKinnon, not without some effort, lifted the lid and peered for some seconds at the contents. He replaced the lid, retrieved his sledge and tapped the lid securely back into place. Stamped on the lid in big red letters were the words CARDIAC ARREST
McKinnon, rather wearily, sat down at the table in the dining area. The injured sister and nurse, both looking as if they should have been in bedâthey had been relieved by Sister Maria and Nurse Ireneâwere sitting there, as was, inevitably, Lieutenant Ulbricht, who not only gave the impression of having completely forgotten his narrow brush with death but was sufficiently back on balance to have found himself a seat between the two girls. Sinclair, Patterson and Jamieson were clustered round one end of the table. McKinnon looked consideringly at Ulbricht, then addressed himself to Dr Sinclair.
âNot calling your professional competence into question, sir, but is the Lieutenant fit to be up and around?'
âMy professional competence is irrelevant.' One could see that Dr Sinclair had not yet recov
ered from the shock of the death of his colleague. âThe Lieutenant, like Sister Morrison and Nurse Magnusson, is uncooperative, intransigent and downright disobedient. The three of them would probably call it having minds of their own. Lieutenant Ulbricht, as it so happens, is in no danger. The injury to his neck couldn't even be described as a flesh wound. Torn skin, more like.'
âThen perhaps, Lieutenant, you would be prepared to take another fix? We haven't had one since last night.'
âAt your disposal, Bo'sun.' If the Lieutenant harboured any ill will towards the Bo'sun for the deaths of his fellow countrymen, he was at pains to conceal it. âAny time. I suggest just on noon.'
Patterson said: âYou finished through in the recovery room, Bo'sun?' McKinnon nodded. âWell, one gets tired of keeping on saying thank-you so I'll spare you that. When do we bury them?'
âYour decision, sir.'
âEarly afternoon, before it starts to get dark.' Patterson laughed without humour. âMy decision. Chief Engineer Patterson is your man when it comes to making decisions on matters that are of no importance. I don't recall making the decision to attack that submarine.'
âI did consult with Captain Bowen, sir.'
âAh!' It was Margaret Morrison. âSo
that
was what that two-minute conference was about.'
âOf course. He approved.'
Janet said: âAnd if he hadn't? Would you still have rammed that U-boat?'
McKinnon said patiently: âHe not only approved, he was enthusiastic. Very enthusiastic. With all respect to Lieutenant Ulbricht here, the Captain wasn't feeling too kindly disposed towards the Germans. Not at that moment of time, anyway.'
âYou're being evasive, Archie McKinnon. Answer my question. If he
had
disapproved would you still have attacked?'
âYes. No need to mention that to the Captain, though.'
âNurse Magnusson.' Patterson smiled at Janet to rob his words of any offence. âI hardly think Mr McKinnon deserves either interrogation or disapproval. I think he deserves congratulations for a magnificent job well done.' He rose, went to the cupboard where Dr Singh had kept his private supplies and returned with a bottle of Scotch and some glasses, poured a measure for McKinnon and set it before him. âI think Dr Singh would have approved of this.'
âThank you, sir.' McKinnon looked down at the glass on the table. âHe won't be needing this any more.'
There was silence round the table. Predictably, it was broken by Janet.
âI think, Archie, that that was less than a gracious remark.'
âYou think so now. Maybe. Maybe not.' There was no hint of apology in his voice. He raised his
glass and sipped from it. âKnew his Scotch, did Dr Singh.'
The silence was longer this time, longer and strained. It was Sinclair, embarrassed by the silence, who broke it.
âI'm sure we all echo Mr Patterson's sentiments, Mr McKinnon. A splendid job. Butâto quote yourself, I'm not questioning your professional competenceâyou did take a bit of a chance, didn't you?'
âYou mean I endangered the lives of all aboard?'
âI didn't say that.' His look of discomfiture made it evident that he had thought it, if not said it.
âIt was a calculated risk,' McKinnon said, âbut not all that calculated. The odds were on my side, quite heavily, I believe. I am quite certain that the U-boat was under orders that we were to be seized, not sunk, which is why I am equally certain that the gun crew fired into the
San Andreas
without orders.
âThe U-boat captain, Oberleutnant Klaussen, was the wrong man in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was tired or immature or inexperienced or incompetent or over-confidentâhe may have been all those things at the same time. What is certain is that an experienced U-boat commander would never have put himself in a position where he was running parallel to us and less than a half a mile away. He should have stayed at a couple of miles' distanceâwhich in
an emergency would have given him plenty of time to crash diveâordered us to send across a boat, loaded it up with a half-dozen men with machine pistols and sent them back to take over the
San Andreas.
We could have done nothing to stop them. Even better, he should have closed up from astern, a position that would have made ramming impossible, then eased up alongside the gangway.
âAnd of course, he was too confident, too sure of himself, too relaxed by half. When he saw us lowering the gangway, he was convinced the game was over. It never even occurred to him that a hospital ship could be used as a man-oâ-war. And he was either so blind or so stupid that he never even noticed that we were steadily closing in on him all the time we were in contact. In short, he made every mistake in the book. It would have been difficult to pick a worse man for the job.'
There was a long and rather uncomfortable silence. Mario, unobtrusive and efficient as ever, had filled all the glasses on the table but no one, with the exception of the Bo'sun, had as yet touched theirs.
Sinclair said: âOn the basis of what you say, the U-boat captain was indeed the wrong man for the job. And, of course, you wholly out-manoeuvered him. But surely the danger still existed. In the actual collision, I mean. The U-boat could have sunk us and not vice versa. We are only made of
thin sheet plating: the hull of the submarine is immensely strong.'
âI would not presume to lecture you on medical matters, Dr Sinclair.'
Sinclair smiled. âMeaning I should not presume to advise you on matters maritime. But, Mr McKinnon, you're a bo'sun on a merchant vessel.'
âToday, yes. Before that I spent twelve years in the submarine service.'
âOh no.' Sinclair shook his head. âToo much, just too much. This is definitely not Dr Sinclair's day.'
âI've known a good number of cases of collisions between merchant vessels and submarines. In nearly all cases those collisions were between friend and friend or, in peacetime, between a submarine and a harmless foreign vessel. The results were always the same. The surface vessel came off best.
âIt doesn't seem logical but it does make sense. Take a hollow glass sphere with walls, say, of a third of an inch in diameter, submerge it to a very considerable depthâI'm talking of hundreds of feetâand it still won't implode. Bring it to the surface, give it a light tap with a hammer and it will shatter into a hundred pieces. Same with the pressure hull of a submarine. It can resist pressure at great depths but on the surface a short sharp blow, as from the bows of a merchant ship, will cause it to rupture. Admittedly, the chances of the submarine are not improved by the fact that the
merchant ship may displace many thousands of tons and be travelling at a fair speed. On the other hand, even a vessel as small as a trawler can sink a submarine. Point is, Dr Sinclair, it wasn't all that dangerous: I hadn't much doubt as to what the outcome would be.'
âPoint taken, Mr McKinnon. You see before you a rueful cobbler who will stick to his last from now on.'
Patterson said: âThis ever happen to you?'
âNo. If it had, the chances are very high that I wouldn't be here now. I know plenty of instances. When I was in the service, the trade as we called it, we had a maxim which said, in effect, never mind the enemy, just watch out for your friends. Back in the Twenties, a British submarineâthe MI it wasâwas accidentally struck by a merchant ship off the Devon coast. All died. Not long afterwards the American SI was overrun by the Italian passenger liner
City of Rome.
All died. Some time later, another American submarine was overrun by a coastguard destroyer off Cape Cod. All died. The
Poseidon,
British, was sent to the bottom by a Japanese ship. Accident. It was off the north China coast. A good number of survivors, but some died from the diver's bends. In the early years of the war, the
Surcouf,
crewed by the Free French and the biggest submarine in the worldâso big that it was called a submarine cruiserâwas sunk in the Caribbean by a ship in a convoy she was escorting. The
Surcouf
had a crew of a
hundred and fifty: all died.' McKinnon passed a hand across his eyes. âThere were others. I forgot most of them. Ah, yes, there was the
Umpire.
Forty-one, I think. It took only a trawler, and not a very big one, to destroy her.'
Patterson said: âYou've made your point, as Dr Sinclair says, you've more than made your point. I accept that the element of risk was not high. You'll just have to bear with us, Mr McKinnon. Amateurs all. We didn't know. You did. The fact that the U-boat is at the bottom of the sea is testimony enough to that.' He paused. âI have to say, Bo'sun, that your achievement doesn't appear to have given you any great satisfaction.'
âIt hasn't.'
Patterson nodded. âI understand. To have been responsible for the deaths of so many menâwell, it's hardly a cheerful thought.'
McKinnon looked at him in mild surprise. âWhat's done is done. So the U-boat's gone and its crew with it. It's no matter for celebration but it's no matter for recrimination either. The next Allied merchant ship to have appeared on the cross hairs of Klaussen's periscope sight would surely have gone to where Klaussen's U-boat is now. The only good U-boat is a U-boat with a ruptured pressure hull at the bottom of the ocean.'
âThen whyââ Patterson broke off, plainly at a loss for both thought and words, then said: âThe hell with the pros and cons, it was still a splendid job. I didn't fancy a prison camp any more than
you. Well, I don't feel as modest about your accomplishments as you do.' He looked around the table. âA toast to our Bo'sun hereâand to the memory of Dr Singh.'
âI'm not nearly as modest as you think I am. I haven't the slightest objection to drinking a toast to myself.' McKinnon looked slowly around the other six. âBut I draw the line at drinking a toast to the memory of Flannelfoot.'
McKinnon was becoming very expert at causing silences. This, the fourth such silence, was much longer and much more uncomfortable than the ones that had preceded it. The other six stared at him, looked at each other with questioning, frowning glances, then returned their exclusive attention to McKinnon. Again, it was Janet who broke the silence.
âYou do know what you're saying, Archie? At least I hope you do.'
âI'm afraid I do. Dr Sinclair, you had a cardiac arrest unit in the recovery room. Did you have another similar unit elsewhere?'
âYes. In the dispensary.'
âAnd you were under strict instructions that, in an emergency, the dispensary unit was the one that was to be used first.'
âThat is so.' Sinclair looked at him without understanding. âHow on earth do
you
know that?'