Chapter 2

CHAPTER II

As he looked at a copy of Saracen’s signal, Lt. Cmdr Evans
muttered, “A torpedo, that’s all we need.”
Saracen was still fifty sea miles away, but R.A.A.F. Nimrod
Surveillance Aircraft was nearby. The pilot of the Nimrod,
Sqr. Leader Kelly was at the controls. The co-pilot and Navigator
Fl.Ltn. Peter Harris spoke.
“We should see Saracen anytime now. No sign of the mystery
sub… there’s the M.T.B.!” he added. “Hello Saracen. No
sign of bandit, are you O.K.?”
“No problems,” said Barton, bending the truth. A few minutes
later “Saracen this is Nimrod, have sighted object 5 miles
north of you, it look like a sub. Now it’s gone, will investigate.”
The Nimrod turned towards the sub, where the conning
tower had broken the surface of the sea and then disappeared.
Following the discharge of the torpedo the sub had become
unstable and had shot to the surface. LeChein had fought to
regain control. The Nimrod circled overhead and dropped a
marker buoy on the spot the submarine was last seen.
“Signet will be here soon,” said Kelly, “we’ll stooge around
for a while to discourage the sub from surfacing.”
—•—
On board Signet, Lt. Cmdr. Geoffrey Evans was annoyed.
He was talking to his chief engineer. He was having engine
trouble too, one engine had stopped and the other was running
rough.
“Can you do anything?”
“I can repair No.2 engine, but I will need time.”
On H.M.A.S. Saracen, Lt. Barton was reading a signal.
“Signal from Signet – ‘Unable to help, engine failure,
STOP’.”
Barton replied, “Messenger, take this down. ‘Have Nimrod

Page 9

above – good luck, from Saracen.’”
Lt. Jimmey Barton muttered, “These damned boats. Yeoman,
get on to Darwin.” He would speak to D.N.I. personally.
He went to his cabin. The phone buzzed. “Have D.N.I.
offi ce for you, Sir.” Jimmey paused – at least that was working,
he thought! The phone call came by satellite and was
usually reliable.
“Sir,” said Barton, “Evans has been delayed by engine trouble.
I’ve only 50% power. The Nimrod has found the bloody
submarine. Your instructions please.”
D.N.I. without pausing for thought, his deep voice reverberating
over the phone, “Tickle it with a view depth charges,
bring to the surface and capture it”.
“Aye, aye, Sir.”
In the corner of the cabin, a teletype message was coming
through. It was confirmation of D.N.I. instructions. There
was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Barton looked up “how do you feel Andy?”
“I’ll survive, Sir.”
“Prepare to drop depth charges. We will try to get the sub.
To surface. Standby guns crew. Hope we have better luck this
time. Carry on.”
Andy left the cabin to organize the depth charging. Meanwhile,
Jimmey went back to the bridge.
“Right Quartermaster, steer 50° East, half-speed,” he ordered.
The Nimrod was overhead when the bridge phone sounded.
Jimmey grabbed the phone. “Captain speaking.”
“Nimrod, Sir,” Stated the W/T Operator.
“Thank you.”
“Understand you are going to depth charge,” said Kelly,
the pilot.
“Are you staying to see the fun? said Jimmey.
“Sorry, shall have to return to base, fuel running low,” Kelly
said.

Page 10

“Good luck.”
The Nimrod passed close by the M.T.B. at wave height. The
M.T.B.’s crew looked on as an object fell from beneath the
aircraft’s under-belly. The Nimrod climbed away, it’s powerful
engines roaring as it rose higher and higher into the blue
sky, leaving a homing device in the water.
The M.T.B. altered course towards the homing device and
marker Buoy.
“Standby to depth charge.” The depth charges were set to
shallow depth.
“Ready to fire,” said Andy.
“Fire!”
As the M.T.B. went forward the depth charges flew over
the stern of the boat falling into the water, exploding, seconds
after hitting, throwing up a huge water spout sending
spraying water everywhere. There was an explosion before
the Captain ordered the uproar to stop.
“Cease depth charging. Stop engine, standby guns crew.”
After the ensuing aquatics display, all was silent aboard
H.M.A.S. Saracen.
The ships crew looked on expectantly.
“That should shake ‘em up a bit,” muttered Leading Torpedo
Man Terry Walters. He looked up to the sky. The Nimrod
was out of sight. They were alone.
—•—
Down below in the submarine, chaos was everywhere. Water
was beginning to come into the boat, they had to get to
the surface quickly. LeChein wondered how his men would
react to fi ghting on the surface. His right hand man Higgins
would have to handle the gun on the conning tower. A couple
of quick shots into the bridge should fi nish off the patrol
boat.
“Higgins, get ready to use the gun.”
“O.K.,” said Higgins, a renegade Englishman and mercenary.

Page 11

“Blow ballast tanks.”
The submarine shot to the surface too quickly, throwing the
crew off balance, but Higgins managed to reach the top of the
conning tower. Opening it, he dashed out into the space to
where the gun was and pulled off the protective covers. Machine
gun bullets were spraying around him, but somehow he
was not hit. He unbolted the ammunition batch holding 20mm
shells. Loading the gun, fi red and with one shot, hit the M.T.B.
below the waterline. As the shell was of a H.E. type, it exploded
after piercing the M.T.B.’s hull, causing considerable damage.
Higgins fi red twice more, hitting the M.T.B. again. On Saracen,
Lt. Jimmey Barton was trying to keep the boat on an
even keel. But it was no good. He had no power, the remaining
engine was gone. The machine gunners were spraying
the empty deck and conning tower of the submarine.
A fi re had broken out on the M.T.B. Andy dashed up to the
bridge. “Sir!” he shouted above the noise and smoke. “It’s no
good, Sir, I think we’ve had it!”
Barton did not hesitate.
“Abandon ship!”
The crew was quickly into the lifeboats. Lt. Barton grabbed
the offi cial books, throwing them into a waterproof bag, he
made his way along the deck. The M.T.B. was burning from
both ends, both lifeboats had pulled away from the burning
ship.
Barton leapt over the side into the water and swan towards
one of the lifeboats.
“Here, Sir,” said a voice. “I’ll give you a hand.” He was
hauled aboard a small boat. After catching his breath, he
looked around. The two boats were close.
“Have we got everyone?”
“Yes, Sir,” said Andy, “all present.”
Miraculously, no one was badly injured. The M.T.B. was
gone. The submarine was making off due north at 6 knots.
The sun was going down.

Page 12

—•—
On board the Signet, Evans was asleep in his bunk.
“Sir, wake up, Sir!”
Evans opened his eyes.
“What’s the matter chief?”
C.P.O. Lightfoot was leaning over James, his expressive face
showing concern.
“It’s Saracen, she’s on fire.”
The Signet had got going after some quick repairs, and
made up time. Evans grabbed his uniform coat, putting it
over his pyjamas – the tropical nights struck chilly after
warm days.
He scrambled to the bridge.
All that he could see in the moments before the last rays
of the sun went down was a pall of smoke on the horizon.
A lookout shouted. “Two small boats in the water,” he said
pointing.
“Prepare to pick up survivors.”
Scrambling nets were lowered and each man was hauled
aboard. Lt. Barton and Andy were taken to Evan’s cabin.
“You were lucky we arrived when we did; tell me about
what happened?”
Evans listened, he was just about to order a course to chase
after the submarine when his phone buzzed.
“This is D.N.I. Darwin Captain Brown here, return to
Base.”

“Very good, Sir.”
Evans contacted the Bridge.
“Coxswain, steer 180° SE, we’re going home.”

SEA TERROR

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The rights of Geoffrey Nash as the author of this work have been asserted.
Apart from fair use as permitted under the Australian Copyright Act 1968,
no part of the publication may be reproduced in any form or by any process
without the prior written permission of the author.

Published for the author by
Bookbound Publishing
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© 2006 Geoffrey Nash

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