THE LAST VERSES

Evening Star, Issue 19550, 7 May 1927, Page 19

THE LAST VERSES

A TALE OF MINE SWEEPERS [Written by Tal. Johnston, for the ‘ Evening Star.’] Malta lay shrouded in enforced darkness. It wanted but ten minutes to midnight, and quietness reigned, save for a clear tenor voice that sang with drunken gravity from the waterfront:— Ten little mine-sweepers searching for a mine; . One found it in the dark, then there were nine. Nine little mine-sweepers mourning its fate; One met a submarine, then there were eight. Eight little mine-sweepers gazing up to Heaven; An aeroplane came over, then there were seven.

Seven little mine-sweepers playing at their tricks; One of them got careless, then there were six.

Six little raine-sweepers very much alive; One got too close inshore, then there were five

Five little mine-sweepers, tiny sloops of war: The Adriatic swallowed one, then there wore four.

Four little mine-sweepers cleaning up the sea; A Turkish cruiser spotted one, thou there were three.

, ThQ..song stopped suddenly, and the singer laughed inanely. “ What’s the joke, ‘Caruso?’ ” an unseen listener demanded. “Joke!” exclaimed the drunken one, “ theresh no joke ’tall, but it has ’curred t’ mo that some’ne else ’ll have t’ write th’ lasht three verses, ’cause I won’t ho hero. An't that a fac’?”

Just then the sound of oars came across the water, and when eight bells sounded from the harbor all was quiet. Leave stopped at midnight, and there were no defaulters.

Of the ten smart “flower, class” sloops detailed for mine-sweeping in the Mediterranean but three had crept back to their base at Malta after ton days at sea, and on the morrow these three were to “carry on,” for, despite the cast, safe passage for men and munitions was necessary, and the seaways had to be swept. With the pearly grey of dawn the tiny ships sailed, pitifully glorious in their bantam-like bravado as they manoeuvred with formal precision, and steamed away in lino ahead, to buy, with their blood if need he, safety tor Britain’s traffic. Among the watchers on otner ships many a hand came up in response as the leader’s syren gave one wailing hoot in farewell. “ Morituri te salutant.”

The officer on watch stepped from the chart room. “ Alter course to east a half south, signalman,” he ordered. “East a-half south, sir,” the signalman repeated, as he swiftly gathered the necessary flags and mast-headed them, hand over hand, the wind_ of the vessels’ passage displaying their colors. A tew moments sufficed for the signalman in the following boats to read, and reply with the single flag that signified “Signal received.” “Down!” the officer said, and turned to give an order to the man at the wheel. Down came the flags by the run, and the three little ships wheeled round on the new course, which brought them into the mined area. The signalman, seeing a flutter of hunting from the next astern, seised his telescope, and was about to commence reading the signal when it was obscured by a spout of water, .and the familiar “ boom ” of an exploding mine roared out across the waters. The officer snapped an order to the men at the engine room telegraphs, but before their hands had time to grasp the levers the deck split open beneath them, and the whole scene was blotted out in a whirling rush of blackened water, followed by a roar that, for all hut a few of those on board, was the last sound they would hear on earth. The signalman heard the explosion, and was dimly conscious of struggling with tortured lungs to fight his way to the life-giving air - but he had no clear recollection of, how he managed to clamber aboard the raft bn which ho found himself. His nose was bleeding and he felt sick and dazed. He felt a ha'nd on his arm, and a voice inquired: “How are you, ‘Bunting’?” He turned over and stared at his questioner. “ What the devil are you doing here, ‘Caruso’?” he demanded. “ Surely to God you didn’t get it, too.” “ Caruso ” nodded his head miserably and waved a listless hand around at the empty seas. “ Ain’t it a b mess?” he said. “ All of ’em gone but a couple ’f dozen or so on these rafts, an’ me with a ruddy leg broken, an’ the ‘ old man ’ torn to bite on th’ bridge beside me, just as we was turnin’ to pick th’ rest of you up. One ’f his arms hit mo in th’ face like Quick, grab that bloke, ‘ Bunting,’ or VII sink!”

The signalman roused himself and caught an arm that groped blindly for the raft. In half an hour they had twenty men, six of them wounded, packed like sardines in the narrow space. These, with the forty-odd survivors on two other rafts, were ail that remained of the three crews, and the position was desperate on account of the lack of water and medical aid. In twenty-four hours three had died from wounds and one had_ gone mad, jumping overboard in the night. Those who were unwounded suffered badly enough from thirst, but the agonies of the injured men were appalling, and they cried continually for water, raving, as delirium overcame them, of iced drinks, until the others were obliged to stop their ears and resolutely force their minds to other things, for that way lay madness. “ Caruso ” babbled of “Ten little mine-sweepers,and cursed because he could find nothing to rhyme with “two.” “Three little mine-sweepers ”he said over and over again., “Two little mine-sweep-ers. One mine-sweeper. Three—two--one; three in one. 'Oly Trinity, Three-in-One Oil—oil on th’ troubled waters. Water! Gimme a b drink, damn vou !” and he strove_ desperately to drag his tortured body into the sea, being held back by his weary mates. At sunset a ship was seen silhouetted against the glaring western sky, and they burnt the blue flare attached _to the raft and waved furiously, hoping that in the fading light the flare would attract attention. It did, and the .answer came in the shape of a 4.7 shelf droning overhead. Another and another came, each one nearer the mark, until before darkness sheltered them fifteen men, already tried to the limit of their endurance, had been killed by Allied shells. There is some excuse, perhaps, in the fact that captains pf merchant vessels had been led astray by various ruses such as flags of distress and men, apparently survivors of a foun'iwed ship, signalling from floating wreckage, only to find upon going to their assistance that a submarine had planted some of her crew in that position to act as decoys; but that did little to appease the stunned remnants of the mine-sweepers’ crews. _ Two days and three nights they drifted about, and of the seven survivors on the signalman’s raft cot pne

wm conscious at the time or knew anything about their ultimate rescue, some of them, including “ Caruso,” not waking until they were handed over to the hospital at Malta. A Japanese destroyer dodging about on some mysterious business of its own found a naval raft with a cargo of sunblackened men, who moaned and prayed, blasphemed and laughed in hoarse whispers, and begged in chorus for the gift of Lazarus. Three little mine-sweepers, Britain’s work to do; One went to Davy Jones, then there were two. Two little mine-sweepers, said it must be done; One steamed a yard or two, then there was one. One little mine-sweeper, too proud to run; Luck was right against her, then there was none.