To Risks Unknown Page 24

  Crespin asked tightly, ‘And Number One?’

  Shannon reached for the wardroom door and pushed it open. ‘He’s here, sir.’ Then he stood aside to allow Crespin and Coutts to enter.

  Wemyss was seated at the table, his head resting on one hand while he played with a full glass of gin with the other. A bottle, two-thirds empty, stood within easy reach.

  Crespin stared at him. He had steeled himself to believe that Wemyss was dead, or at best wounded. His mind was still grappling with the discovery that Thistle had been sent to sea in spite of what Scarlett had promised, and to see Wemyss obviously drunk, made him explode with sudden anger.

  ‘Just what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, Number One?’

  Wemyss turned his head very slowly. There were deep shadows beneath his eyes and he did not seem to be able to focus properly. He did not get up or even attempt to.

  ‘You’re talking to the wrong officer, sir.’ He poured some more gin into the full glass, so that it ran unheeded over his hand. ‘He is the first lieutenant at the moment, Mister bloody Shannon!’

  Crespin looked coldly at the lieutenant. ‘Is this true?’

  Shannon bit his lip. ‘Temporarily, sir.’

  Wemyss was muttering thickly, ‘All my life at sea and never lost a man or a bloody ship without trying to save both. And that pompous, stuck-up bastard tries to tell me what to do.’ He wagged the glass dangerously. ‘I’ve been watching, y’know, Shannon. You and God Al-bloody-mighty Scarlett!’

  Crespin said coldly, ‘Put that drink down and listen to me.’

  Wemyss replaced the glass very carefully and tried to rise to his feet. If he had further lost his temper or passed out completely Crespin would have known what to do. But when Wemyss faced him he saw that his stubbled cheeks were running with tears.

  Wemyss said between his teeth, ‘Sent them to their deaths, he did! They never stood a bloody chance!’ He wiped his face with his sleeve. ‘Scarlett told us it was just a patrol. To look for an M.L. which he had bloody well mislaid somewhere.’ He shook his head slowly from side to side. ‘They weren’t lost. They were damn well sacrificed to his bloody mania for glory!’

  The curtain across the door moved and Crespin heard footsteps in the passageway. At any minute a seaman, anyone, might come in and see Wemyss like this.

  He said to Coutts, ‘Get him to my cabin. I don’t care what you do, or how, but get him there now!’

  Coutts was slim, and beside Wemyss looked almost delicate. Yet with the ease of a fireman with a limp woman he pulled Wemyss’ arm over his shoulder and thrust him towards the door. They cannoned into the sideboard as Wemyss tried to turn, his eyes already glazing over like those of a corpse.

  He said, ‘I know what you’re thinking, sir. But I did it for you, and the ship. I’ve seen too much already, too much waste and bloody incompetence. I’ll not let a bastard like him throw what’s left on the bloody fire!’

  Coutts grimaced. ‘Come on, old son. Let’s be having you then.’

  Together they staggered through the door and Crespin breathed out very slowly.

  Then he asked quietly, ‘Well?’

  Shannon looked away, his cheeks flushing. ‘I didn’t ask for this, sir, you must believe that. Captain Scarlett ordered him to take the ship inshore, near an occupied harbour, to try and get the raiding party away.’

  ‘How far inshore?’

  Shannon frowned. ‘About a mile, I think, sir.’

  ‘What time of day was it?’ Crespin kept seeing Wemyss’ stricken face and knew there was worse to come.

  ‘In the forenoon, sir. There was a coastal battery, but it was supposed to have been knocked out.’ He licked his lips. ‘It wasn’t.’

  ‘What happened next?’

  ‘Captain Scarlett was with us. When the battery opened fire he ordered Wemyss to pull out, but he insisted on trying to reach the last M.L. It was aground on a sandbar, in broad daylight.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, sir, the battery straddled us, but we managed to silence it after about twenty minutes. And all the time the marine commandos on the M.L. were standing there, cheering us on, as if it were a football match.’

  Crespin thought of the partisans waving to him from the boats towed astern of the schooner. The way they had stood in silence to be slaughtered.

  Shannon said dully, ‘Then the bombers came. They blew up the M.L. and killed a few others who were floating about from another boat. We lost our men when a bomb exploded alongside.’ He ran his hand over his hair, trying to remember. ‘Some of our fighters came over after that. They shot down one of the German kites.’ He shrugged. ‘And we got the hell out of it, sir.’

  Leading Telegraphist Christian tapped on the door, and when he saw Crespin his face split into a grin.

  ‘Nice ter see yer back, sir.’

  He held out a flimsy. ‘Telephoned signal from Captain Scarlett, sir. Report when ready.’

  Crespin looked past him towards the ship’s crest above the sideboard. Wemyss had said, ‘I did it for you, and the ship.’

  ‘Very well. Call away the motor boat’s crew. I’ll change my uniform and go across.’ As the man left he added to Shannon, ‘I suppose the whole ship knows about this?’

  Shannon shrugged. ‘Hard to say, sir. We came in just two days back and we’ve been working like hell to put things right. Captain Scarlett had it out with Lieutenant Wemyss here in the wardroom. I don’t know exactly what happened, but when the captain left he said I was to assume his duties, and Lieutenant Wemyss was suspended until further notice.’ He shook his head. ‘Could be serious for him. A court martial would not only ruin his chances in the Navy, it would also finish his career outside the Service.’

  Crespin clenched his fists tightly. Once, during a middle watch, he had heard Wemyss discussing his life with young Porteous. He had pointed over the screen towards the black water and said, ‘This is my home. A ship and a suitcase is all I need.’ Now, hearing Shannon dismiss his past and his future with such smug indifference filled him with blazing anger.

  ‘In case you had forgotten, Mister Shannon, I am in command of this ship. Until such time as I order otherwise, Lieutenant Wemyss will remain as my Number One!’

  Shannon said, ‘I was only doing as I was told, sir.’

  ‘Good, well keep on doing it! You may think you’re God’s gift to the Navy because you’ve got two pieces of gold lace on your sleeve, but as far as I am concerned you are still a half-trained, conceited and thoroughly irresponsible officer! I know Wemyss is drunk, and I also know that what he said in front of me amounted to putting his head into a noose. I also happen to believe that he is one of the most honest and reliable men I have ever met.’ He looked at Shannon with cold anger. ‘So remember that! A ship is a unit. Men and steel all bound up as one. There is no room for petty ambitions or lack of trust, you’ll do well to remember that, too!’

  Barker, the steward, peered in the door and said nervously, ‘I got yer shoregoin’ uniform ready, sir.’

  Crespin tore his eyes from Shannon’s dark face. ‘Good. Now fetch a pot of black coffee to my cabin on the double, and a large bottle of brandy!’

  Barker’s eyes were popping. ‘Yessir. Right away, sir!’

  Crespin took a deep breath. ‘I’ll go ashore in fifteen minutes. But before I leave I want to see the action chart and the log.’ He turned and strode from the wardroom without waiting for an answer.

  Barker came down the ladder carrying the coffee-pot and almost collided with Petty Officer Joicey.

  The coxswain caught his arm. ‘The Old Man’s back then?’

  Barker nodded vehemently. ‘Back. And how he’s back!’

  Joicey watched him go and then plucked his lower lip. Not a bloody minute too soon either, he thought grimly.

  The spacious room above the harbour was just as Crespin remembered it. But it was no longer cool, and with the windows sealed by shutters and blackout curtains it felt oppressive and humid,
so that his shirt clung to his body like another skin. It was very quiet, and beyond the shutters the street noises seemed muffled and far away, a constant, unchanging murmur.

  As the minutes dragged past he could barely control his impatience. Apart from the guards and a poker-faced steward who had ushered him to this room, he had seen nobody, and he wondered if it was just part of Scarlett’s policy when receiving returning officers. He could feel the brandy rasping on his stomach lining and thought suddenly of Wemyss’ strained face as he lay tossing on the bunk, his words slurred and confused, between reason and oblivion. As he thought about it he became angrier, mostly with himself for not understanding Wemyss’ despair from the start. He had never seen him drunk before. That alone should have prepared him.

  The double doors swung inwards and Scarlett hurried across the room, a file of papers beneath his arm. He reached the big desk in a few strides and threw himself into the chair. Then he looked hard at Crespin and said, ‘You’re here then.’ His voice was devoid of expression.

  Crespin reseated himself and replied, ‘I came as soon as I could, sir. There were some matters aboard the ship which needed my attention.’

  Scarlett looked unusually tired. On edge.

  Crespin added, ‘I have brought a full report as ordered. Captain Coutts has prepared one of his own also.’

  Scarlett nodded abruptly. ‘I see. I have studied your brief appraisal which you despatched from Taranto. I shall want to study the matter more fully before I can assess its value.’

  Crespin eased his back against the cane chair. Then he said, ‘I should like to know why my ship was sent to sea while I was away, sir. I was given to understand she would remain here until I returned.’

  Scarlett leaned back and stared at him coldly. ‘What I decide to do or not to do with the vessels and personnel under my command is my concern and not yours, Crespin. I see that you have heard all about the patrol, the appalling handling of the whole affair. It was a stroke of pure luck I was there to stop it turning into one godalmighty shambles!’

  ‘In my opinion Lieutenant Wemyss did exactly what I would have done.’ Crespin controlled his voice but his hands gripped the chair until his knuckles shone white. ‘As far as I can tell from the log, a force of marine commando was sent to raid a small Italian harbour in two L.C.I.s with an M.L. for escort. It wasn’t even certain if the harbour was still occupied by the Germans!’

  Scarlett said, ‘It was a reconnaissance in strength. There are always risks to be faced. You don’t win wars by sitting on your backside!’

  Crespin replied evenly, ‘Nor can you win them by throwing away lives, sir!’

  Scarlett jumped to his feet, sending the file skidding across the floor.

  ‘Just who the hell do you think you’re talking to? I told you at the outset that your ship is just a weapon, not a way of life! Do you imagine that your officers and men are exempt from taking risks? That they deserve some special consideration?’ He was shouting. ‘The operation failed due to poor intelligence reports. When I saw what was happening I ordered your first lieutenant to withdraw at once. He refused, do you hear? He bloody well disobeyed my direct order!’

  Crespin watched him steadily. ‘He was not the first lieutenant, sir. He was in acting command. Upon his judgement depended not only the ship’s safety, but the lives of everyone there.’

  Scarlett banged the desk. ‘Well, he didn’t damn well save those marines!’

  ‘But he tried. He is too good an officer and seaman to leave them without attempting to save them.’

  ‘So that’s your attitude, is it?’ Scarlett strode to the wall map and stared at it for several seconds. ‘You think you know better than I do!’

  ‘I just think you’ve not been entirely open with me, sir.’ Crespin watched Scarlett’s shoulders. ‘About the use of the ship in my absence.’ He paused. ‘And certain other matters.’

  Scarlett swung round, his eyes flashing dangerously. ‘What other matters?’

  ‘Able Seaman Trotter for instance, sir.’ Crespin saw a brief shaft of surprise before Scarlett recovered himself again. ‘He was once one of your men, yet you said nothing. I might have been able to help him if …’

  Scarlett sat down again. ‘Is that all? Really, you amaze me, you really do! Every hour men are being killed, yet you pause to bother about one stupid seaman who lost his will to live! Of course I knew him. But you wanted to run your new command in your own way, and I approve of initiative.’

  ‘I think he was murdered, sir.’

  Scarlett did not even blink. ‘I read the report by the military police. I also spoke to Porteous about it. He did mention something about Trotter’s being left-handed, but in God’s name that doesn’t mean he was murdered!’ He tapped his fingertips together and studied Crespin calmly. ‘In any case, you should have spoken out. Your total lack of interest in this affair makes me think you are just using it to cover up the more important issues of your officers; Wemyss in particular!’

  ‘It was merely my opinion, sir.’

  ‘Well, I’m too busy to worry about it now. The matter is closed as far as I am concerned. And if you want to avoid a court of inquiry you’d better forget it, too.’

  ‘I will be ready to face one if required, sir.’

  ‘Well, I’m not!’ Scarlett picked up Crespin’s report and weighed it in his hands. ‘There’s a lot to do. I’m understaffed, and everyone’s screaming to get things done. I cannot do everything myself, nor can I afford the time to listen to your sort of arguments.’ He was speaking very rapidly now, as if to avoid interruption. ‘I sent you on this mission, not because you’re the most perfect man for the job, but because you were the best available. Yet you speak of your ship as if she was something special.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘Why do you think she was chosen, or for that matter, her entire company?’

  ‘I shall be interested to hear, sir.’

  ‘Will you? I doubt it!’ Scarlett looked away from Crespin’s cold stare. ‘Just think about it. For the most part they are men who have failed at everything else. They have become a means to a useful end and nothing more.’

  Crespin was surprised that he felt so calm. It was as if Scarlett’s words had at last removed the deception.

  Scarlett added, ‘I mean, they’re expendable!’ He turned and looked at him. ‘We’ve got a war to win, as you’ve said yourself often enough. If these men prefer to believe they are hand-picked then so much the better. Just so long as you stop deceiving yourself as you are doing now!’

  Crespin replied quietly, ‘That is how the enemy behaves, sir. It is also why he will lose in the end.’

  Scarlett laughed. ‘Rubbish! And I thought you were different from the rest, but it seems I was wrong. You’ve been too long a regular, too long on the little straight rails of tradition and “playing the game”.’

  ‘Well, I do care what happens to my men, sir. Not just to their lives, but to their minds after it’s all over and done with.’

  ‘Very commendable.’

  Crespin stood up slowly. He could feel his career falling in ruins but he could no longer stop himself.

  ‘You don’t give a damn about any of them. It’s just a game to you. Just a senseless bloody game. A few men die because some fool has misread the instructions, but what does it matter? There are always more to fill the gaps, and throw away later.’ His voice was shaking with anger. ‘It just so happens that some of these expendable human beings do care. I’ll say it now, and if necessary at my court martial, you’re no better than the people we’re fighting!’

  Scarlett stepped back as if he had been struck. ‘How dare you speak to me like this? I knew you had been through a bad time before you got this command, but I had no idea that your mind was affected, too!’

  The door opened again and Crespin swung round expecting to see Penny, and suddenly fearful that she would become caught in the bitter crossfire.

  But it was a small, balding man in a crumpled lounge suit, his pale eye
s already darting across the room as he looked from one to the other. Then with a start Crespin realized it was Rear-Admiral Oldenshaw, and yet it was difficult to understand it was the same person. Without his uniform he seemed to have shrunk to a stooping, wizened old man.

  But his voice was as sharp and incisive as ever. ‘Glad to see you arrived back in one piece, Crespin.’ He crossed to a deep chair and sank into it. ‘I see from your expression that you did not know I was here?’ He sighed. ‘I was in Alexandria when I heard of your return. I flew in a few hours ago.’ It seemed to be an effort to turn his head. ‘Is that your report? Good, good.’ He nodded vaguely. Then he looked at Scarlett’s angry face. ‘I heard a certain amount of disagreement going on. Thought I should put in an appearance. Arguments between brother officers are inevitable, even necessary, if we are to remain sane.’ His tone hardened. ‘However, there are limits.’

  Scarlett said, ‘Crespin has been complaining about Lieutenant Wemyss, sir.’ He glanced at Crespin. ‘Amongst other things.’

  ‘I see. Quite so.’ The admiral watched them bleakly. ‘I, too, have read your account. Interesting. Still, it’s nothing that can’t be sorted out, is it?’

  Crespin said stubbornly, ‘I want to keep him as my first lieutenant, sir. If I had been aboard I would have acted as he did.’

  The admiral said dryly, ‘I can imagine. I do not know if that is a defence or an admission.’ He hurried on, suddenly impatient, ‘I think that can be arranged.’ He glanced at Scarlett. ‘All right with you?’

  Scarlett opened his mouth and closed it again. Then he said, ‘If you say so, sir.’

  ‘Then that’s settled.’ Oldenshaw crossed his thin legs and peered at Crespin. ‘Now what about your mission?’

  Crespin sat down. It was incredible. With a few words the ancient admiral had taken the heat out of the battle, with the merest effort. He said, ‘As I have explained in my report, sir, the partisans on Gradz are ready and eager to fight. But they need a lot of good weapons, and much more beside.’

  Scarlett said abruptly, ‘I heard that Colonel Kolak has a much larger force at his disposal. He’s a good soldier, and his men are well drilled and disciplined.’ He was not speaking to Crespin.