Chapter 21

The sea was calm in the sound. The conning tower broke the surface with hardly a ripple. David guessed they were about 200 yards off shore though in the darkness he could not be certain. Around him sailors went about preparing to abandon the vessel. Everyone had on a life jacket. Several times the previous day, vessels had sailed slowly overhead. And the ping of the sonar had kept all conversation on the submarine to whispers and had hampered their schedule. It was now early morning. He glanced at his watch in the glow of some dials - 1:30am.

Along shore, the light from the large stately homes shone out like jewels into the darkness. After blacked out London, the light seemed excessive, even obscene. He felt fairly confident that the boathouse where they were hoping to land was the one he thought it was — well he thought it was. His confidence wavered. 'What if I'm wrong' he thought. 'We can't afford to have the police involved'.

One of the British marines approached. "Sir" he whispered, "time to leave."

David shrugged — what would happen, would happen. The coming days would be interesting indeed.

With the Captain, David was one of the last off the sub. The sub loomed high in the starlight. The small inflatable dingy had stopped maybe 40 yards from it at the behest of the Captain who sat watching as the vessel started to sink beneath the waters. The hissing of air escaping and bubbles breaking the surface around the sub were for some time the only indication of its final dive.

"WER mich von diesem Körper des Todes befreien soll" The Captain whispered quietly and thinking he was unobserved quickly crossed himself. The open hatches became the bellow of the subs lung. Offering up one last gasp, a sigh, as it finally sank beneath the surface of the Sound.

"Sir," David prompted "we need to join the others." The Captain nodded and gruffly ordered his men to head for land.

The Captain rubbed his face and turned tiredly to David. "So, what will we do in this land of the free?" His rather mocking smile came faintly to David in the dim light.

David laughed. "To be honest with you, I haven't given much thought to it. I have just been focussed on getting back to the States. But sir, you have my word as an officer of the United States Army, I will move heaven and earth for you and your men to find a home hear, and maybe a new life.

They sat silently in the dingy as the sailors pulled towards shore. "You know," the Captain began conversationally, "the Russians made sure that every man of the German submarine fleets was a married man. Any who weren't were shot."

"What?" David exclaimed, confused yet dreading to know the meaning.

"Yes, married men with families were best. We might not have fought for Russia, for Communism, but we would fight to keep our families alive. Here you have this." He handed David an envelope. "For myself I don't have any request. But on your honour, look after my men. Goodbye Colonel, God be with you."

He stood and before David could respond, pulled a gun from his coat, placed it in his mouth and pulled the trigger. The body fell into the water with a splash. David sat there stunned. The two crewmen stopped rowing and sat motionless, looking at David. A minute passed, and then another. He roused himself, and made rowing motions. The men began to paddle once more.

This was not how he had planned to return to the States.

As David and sailors drew near to the shore, a voice whispered "Are you all right David?" It was Julia. The anxiety was obvious in her tone.

David whispered back reassuringly. "What happened?" she replied. "We heard a gun shot." We've had to nearly tie down the squadies — they were about to massacre the Germans."

By now they had drawn close to a jetty. A number of other dinghies were clustered along its side. "The Captain shot himself." David reported dully. "Get some men to sink these boats — the last thing we want is to do is advertise out presence.

Clambering out of the dinghy, David made his way towards a grand looking boat house. To say that it was just a boat house would be like saying the Empire State was just a building. It had been this structure that had reassured David that they had landed at the right place. The Hargraves might be old money — but they wanted everyone else to know it! If he remembered correctly from his last stay at their summer house, old Mr Hargraves had just purchased a large motor yacht with which to outdo his equally wealthy neighbours.

David smiled fleetingly as he remembered the stolen kisses and fumbling in the dark in that very boat house. Young Miss Hargraves had been a very forward woman. That it had been her 18th birthday and his last week of freedom before going to Westpoint, had made the moment sweet and a treasured memory.

As he moved over to the boathouse he couldn't help looking inland to the imposing summer residence. There was a light on in a rear side window. 'Probably the care-taker' he thought. As he entered the large shed, the smell of wood polish was nearly overwhelming. In the light of the men's torches he looked up at the 'Midas Touch', brass fittings gleaming, and all the exposed timbers glowing warmly.

Josh leaned over its side. "Tanks full, and room for the 30 of us — if we squeeze in a little."

"Below decks you mean?" enquired Julia who had followed David into the building.

Liz had come up from below decks, wiping her hands with an oily rag. "The engines are beauties. They'll purr like kittens."

Josh turned and smiled at Liz, then turning back answered "Julia, there's plenty of room. We will be OK."

David turned to the sailors standing around. "Do any of you speak English?"