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With Beatty off Jutland: A Romance of the Great Sea Fight

With Beatty off Jutland: A Romance of the Great Sea Fight

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Chapter 1 -The Ward-room of H.M.S. "Calder"

Word Count: 1424    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

the North Sea; to be more exact, 18 mile

t a state of war had existed for twenty months. The same short steep seas, the same lowering sky, the almost unbr

ction, and on a course that would bring her close under the stern of the almost motionless destroyer. From the galley funnel of each trawler a trail of bluish smoke was issuing, the reek as it drifted across t

as their own crews did, and certainly more than their respective owners in pre-war times. For close on fifty hours, watch in and watch out, the Calder had been dancing a

ter. From the trawler's stern a flexible wire hawser led beneath the foaming wake of the pr

ted Sefton through a

arks aft, while a greatcoated figure came in view f

ter of the Dimpled Lassie, Peter M'Ki

o the two trawlers, for although both skippers could find their way, even in thick weather, almost anywhere in the

t," replied Sefton. "Carr

ring on fatalism. Mine-sweeping they had engaged upon almost continuously since the notable month of August, 1914. Now they were on particular service--a service of such importance and where so much secrecy was impera

g, found that his superior officer had just

ances that the war had thrown in his way. Specially promoted for good work in the Dardanelles, he found himself at a comparatively ea

. Sefton?

plied the acting-sub. "But we'll

his tanned features. The task upon which the trawlers were engaged was a matter of extreme urgency. At Whitehall anxious admirals awaited the news that "it

n alert bos'n's mate, awaiting the signal, piped the starboard watch. Saluting, Sefton gained

a short, full-faced, jovial-featured man had just emerged, clad in regulation trousers and a sweater. His curly light-brown hair was still wet, as the result of his ablutions, a sli

re----" he began singin

. "The fact is patent to all. Can't you give us 'They don't

Jimmy Stirling first joined the mess at the Portsmou

t last, after weeks of expostulation, your minions have succeeded in quelling that demon of unrest, the steam steering-gear. For the

n the act of struggling with a refractory collar. The next instant the two m

h other with mock-serious desperation until, with a violent heave, the athletic doctor deposited his engineering confrère fairly upon the table

haven't had my breakfast, and I suppose you haven't had yours? Not th

ated and began takin

the engineer-lieutenant in tones of mock anxiety. "Must accoun

had been fruitless. The possibilities of the recovery of the much-desired "it" monopolized the attention of the occupants of the

B.D. Calder. Their pranks were but an antidote to the

the engineer-lieutenant as the trio sat dow

lied Sefton decisively. "Even if we have t

water. Your vile condenser-brewed fluid is simply appalling, my fes

he water on board was brackish and insipid, but it was condensed under his personal supervisio

luejacket, tapping at the ward-room door, announced:

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