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Bronson Tweed Publishing
The Thick of the Fray
The Thick of the Fray
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Contents
________________________________________
CHAP.
I. BOUND NORTH
II. STRAFED
III. COUNT OTTO
IV. TORPEDOED
V. IN THE WHALER
VI. A PRISONER OF WAR
VII. M.-L. 4452
VIII. ON PATROL
IX. AT ZEEBRUGGE
X. PREPARATIONS
XI. THE LONE AIR-RAIDER
XII. ST. GEORGE'S EVE
XIII. THE ATTACK ON THE MOLE
XIV. THE NIGHT OF NIGHTS
XV. THE PASSING OF M.-L. 4452
XVI. THE RETURN FROM ZEEBRUGGE
XVII. "GOOD OLD 'VINDICTIVE'!"
XVIII. OUT OF THE JAWS OF DEATH
XIX. THE GREAT SURRENDER
CHAPTER I
Bound North
"Wonder if she'll do it in time," thought Sub-lieutenant Alec Seton, R.N., as he stolidly paced the stone-paved platform. For the twentieth time in the last two hours he had consulted his wristlet watch and compared it with the smoke-begrimed station clock. "A proper lash-up if she doesn't."
It was 1.40 a.m. on a certain Monday in March of the year of grace 1918. Seton, warned by telegram to rejoin his ship, H.M. Torpedo-boat Destroyer Bolero, had been handicapped by reason of the Sunday train service. Due to report at Rosyth at 10 a.m. he found himself at midnight held up at Leeds with the unpleasant prospect of having to wait until 1.50 a.m. before the mail train took him on to Edinburgh.
Seton had been spending part of a well-earned spell of leave at his parents' house in the Peak District. An urgent message demanded his recall before half the period of leave had expired, which was no unusual occurrence in war-time. What was exasperating was the fact that the wire had been delivered at 6 p.m. on Sunday, and even by rushing off and catching the first available train Alec found, on perusing the time-table and consulting various railway officials, that it would be impossible to arrive at Edinburgh before twenty minutes minutes to eight on Monday morning. That left, only a little more than two hours to continue his journey to Inverkeithing and then on to Rosyth. Even then he had no idea where the Bolero was lying, whether she was alongside the jetty or on moorings out on the Forth. To say the least it was "cutting things a bit fine", but it was a point of honour that, if humanly possible, Seton should report himself on board at the hour specified.
"An' we were going into dock for eighteen days for refit," mused the Sub. "Wonder what's butted in to upset things? Some stunt over the other side, or only another sea-trip out and home again, without catching sight of a measly Hun. By Jove, I'm hungry. I'm experiencing an unpleasant feeling in a certain sector of the front."
________________________________________
CHAP.
I. BOUND NORTH
II. STRAFED
III. COUNT OTTO
IV. TORPEDOED
V. IN THE WHALER
VI. A PRISONER OF WAR
VII. M.-L. 4452
VIII. ON PATROL
IX. AT ZEEBRUGGE
X. PREPARATIONS
XI. THE LONE AIR-RAIDER
XII. ST. GEORGE'S EVE
XIII. THE ATTACK ON THE MOLE
XIV. THE NIGHT OF NIGHTS
XV. THE PASSING OF M.-L. 4452
XVI. THE RETURN FROM ZEEBRUGGE
XVII. "GOOD OLD 'VINDICTIVE'!"
XVIII. OUT OF THE JAWS OF DEATH
XIX. THE GREAT SURRENDER
CHAPTER I
Bound North
"Wonder if she'll do it in time," thought Sub-lieutenant Alec Seton, R.N., as he stolidly paced the stone-paved platform. For the twentieth time in the last two hours he had consulted his wristlet watch and compared it with the smoke-begrimed station clock. "A proper lash-up if she doesn't."
It was 1.40 a.m. on a certain Monday in March of the year of grace 1918. Seton, warned by telegram to rejoin his ship, H.M. Torpedo-boat Destroyer Bolero, had been handicapped by reason of the Sunday train service. Due to report at Rosyth at 10 a.m. he found himself at midnight held up at Leeds with the unpleasant prospect of having to wait until 1.50 a.m. before the mail train took him on to Edinburgh.
Seton had been spending part of a well-earned spell of leave at his parents' house in the Peak District. An urgent message demanded his recall before half the period of leave had expired, which was no unusual occurrence in war-time. What was exasperating was the fact that the wire had been delivered at 6 p.m. on Sunday, and even by rushing off and catching the first available train Alec found, on perusing the time-table and consulting various railway officials, that it would be impossible to arrive at Edinburgh before twenty minutes minutes to eight on Monday morning. That left, only a little more than two hours to continue his journey to Inverkeithing and then on to Rosyth. Even then he had no idea where the Bolero was lying, whether she was alongside the jetty or on moorings out on the Forth. To say the least it was "cutting things a bit fine", but it was a point of honour that, if humanly possible, Seton should report himself on board at the hour specified.
"An' we were going into dock for eighteen days for refit," mused the Sub. "Wonder what's butted in to upset things? Some stunt over the other side, or only another sea-trip out and home again, without catching sight of a measly Hun. By Jove, I'm hungry. I'm experiencing an unpleasant feeling in a certain sector of the front."
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