Seeing the waters clear of enemy ships, the U-boat came to the surface
and frisked blithely up to the trawler. She was greeted by a shower of
machine-gun bullets, and surrendered without ado. There was really
nothing else for the surprised skipper to do. For when he had last seen
that trawler she was the parent ship of the submarine flotilla operating
in that vicinity. In all, before the week was over, that trawler had
captured six submarines without the loss of a life, and no one injured.
Thereafter the parent-ship trawler was seized whenever the British could
capture one, and the same expedient was tried. But after a time the
Germans became wary of approaching parent-ships until they were
convinced that their parenthood was more real than assumed.
Then one day after the Americans arrived a three-masted schooner was
commandeered. They put a deck-load of lumber on her; at least it was an
apparent deck-load. It was really a mask for a broadside of 3-pounder
guns, different sections of the deck-load swinging open to admit of free
play of the guns, as levers were pulled.
The schooner, commanded by a Maine skipper and his crew, was turned
loose in the North Sea. Astern towed a dingy; from the taffrail flew the
American flag. Before long out popped a submarine. Aha! A lumber-laden
vessel--American! The German commander, grinning broadly, stepped into a
gig with a bombing crew; torpedoes were not wasted on sailing-vessels.
"Get into your dingy," he cried, motioning toward the craft dangling
astern.
Pages:
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116