When I drew clear of the entrance I saw the enemy distant about a
thousand metres. I at once recognized her as being one of the oldest
type of Russian torpedo boats afloat. When I established this fact, a
devil entered into my mind, and did a most foolhardy act.
I decided that I would not retreat beneath the sea, but that I would
fight her as one service ship to another.
When I make up my mind, I do so in no uncertain manner--indecision is
abhorrent to me--and I sharply ordered, "Gun's Crew--Action."
I can still see the comical look of wonderment which passed over my
First Lieutenant's face, but he knows me, and did not hesitate an
instant. We drilled like a battleship, and in sixty-five seconds--I
timed it as a matter of interest--from my order we fired the first
shot. It fell short.
Extraordinary to relate, the torpedo boat, without firing a gun, put
her helm hard over, and started to steam away at her full speed, which
I suppose was about seventeen knots.
I actually began to chase her--a submarine chasing a torpedo boat! It
was ludicrous.
With broad smiles on their faces, my good gun's crew rapidly fired the
gun, and we had the satisfaction of striking her once, near her after
funnel, but it did no vital damage, as a few minutes afterwards she
drew out of range! What a pack of incompetent cowards!
They never fired a shot at us. I suppose half of them were drunk or
else in a state of semi-mutiny, for one hears strange tales of affairs
in Russia these days.
Pages:
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134