Date: Sat, 25 Feb 2006 04:10:38 -0800 (PST)
From: james robinson <juzjamie17@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Atlantic Express, Chapter 23

This tale contains sexual relations between males of various ages, if you
don't appreciate this type of story or if you are under age or it is
illegal where you live then please leave.

If you enjoy this narrative please let me know at juzjamie17@yahoo.com all
emails will be answered except flames which are extinguished on arrival.

I have a group where I post my stories at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/jamies_jottings/ , you will need a profile
stating your age and name or nickname to join as this is an adult only
group.


	The Atlantic Express, Chapter 23,          by  justjames17.


The two ships fled the approaching conflict their 35 knots paltry in
comparison to the 200 knots of their enemy high above, the vultures
gathered ready to strike, the ship's guns locked on to the approaching
squadrons of bomb bearing planes. The main guns thundered shaking the
speeding hulls sending their prefused projectiles whistling high into the
frigid air to explode amidst the aircraft in small black puffs with red
centers. Shrapnel dispersed through the air to rattle the aluminium
fuselages penetrating those nearest to the shell burst. Minor damage was
done then the next broadside arrived this time one of the leading planes
was hit tearing a wing from the off the aircraft in a flash of exploding
high octane fuel. The stricken plane lurched then fell from formation
spinning irrevocably to impact the freezing sea 10,000 feet below, the
plane disintegrated in a shower of spray as it's wing fluttered down
nearby.

The guns kept up their thunderous attack sending innumerable shells into
the harbingers of doom, but alas no further aircraft fell from the sky as
they circled overhead. The bombers released their heavy loads and the bombs
wobbled as they fell until they straightened and raced towards their
weaving racing targets below. Mushrooms of water leapt high into the air as
the first bombs landed about the ships, Charles watched helpless as the
Nottingham turned to port and seemed to swing straight under two missiles,
one landed on the foredeck ripping through the teak deck striking the
armored deck beneath bursting through the tough steel with its steel caped
nose to explode inside the anchor locker. The explosion blew the anchors
free and they raced down dragging their heavy chains behind them, the ship
slowed by the drag as the second bomb landed amidships, ripped through the
superstructure penetrating the forward boiler room to explode rupturing
number one boiler filling the area with raging live steam stripping the
parboiled flesh from the personnel trapped in there.

The Nottingham slowed and slewed to port, smoke and steam billowing from
her ruptured hull, she was finished now just a hulk awaiting the finishing
stroke from above. The Berber firing now alone as the cruiser lost power,
her turrets immobile and only her light armaments still available but
useless against the high flying enemy, Charles kept up the barrage as he
steamed around the stricken Nottingham trying to defend her. The bombers
turned and returned to the attack sensing victory, Berber blew a second
bomber to smithereens as a shell hit her bomb bay but they bore down
inexorably readying the final blow to the now stopped cruiser where her
crew attempting to launch the life boats.

The bombs were released, Berber twisted and turned firing valiantly as they
raced earthwards she sailed straight into a bomb which exploded inside her
forward mess deck and blew the bows off the destroyer. Charles cursed as
steel slivers lanced through the bridge wounding or killing most her bridge
crew, a sliver sliced through Charles abdomen, he spun about collapsing to
the deck, lying there staring into the dead eyes of his signalman. He heard
the roar of explosions as the Nottingham was struck by several more
missiles, he dragged himself erect clinging to the binnacle as he clutched
his side where blood seeped through his clothing. The pain still dulled by
shock he peered through the smoke to find his ship heavily bow down as the
water filled the area and the ship slowed to a stop wallowing
sluggishly. He peered across at where the Nottingham had been to see
nothing but a huge oil slick and floating debris on the icy water, she had
vanished from sight and was now falling to her last berth on the dark muddy
floor of the frigid sea. The bombers now empty of bombs turned for home
their job done, leaving the stricken destroyer behind them, the stunned
crew, those not killed by the explosion or dragged under with the forward
third of the hull, stood at their positions. Their senses still reeling
from the onslaught and destruction they had witnessed, the damage control
party roused themselves and tried to contact the bridge where the phone
shrilled unanswered.

The first Lieutenant rushed to the bridge to find the devastation wrought
by the explosion, he found Charles clinging to the binnacle his clothing
drenched in blood as he held himself erect. A stretcher crew arrived and
they helped Charles onto it and carried him down to the deck where the
Doctor was working on the wounded, he peeled the Captain's duffle coat and
uniform jacket back then slit open his bloody shirt and vest. The wound
exposed he could now remove the jagged knife like sliver from the torn
flesh, Charles groaned in pain as the medico touched the long foot long
piece of shrapnel, pain lancing through his body. The Doctor rummaged in
his bag pulling out a morphine injection ampoule and administered it to
Charles.

He waited for it to take effect then slowly and gently removed the metal
sliver then cleaned the wound with antiseptic before binding Charles waist
heavily with bandages that taken care of he turned to work on the next
wounded seaman. The First Officer told the radio operator to send out a
coded report of their position and the loss of the Nottingham, he hoped
something would be organized to rescue them, maybe from Murmansk or a
convoy passing nearby. The radio crackled with static while the operator
waited to hear if they received a reply, he heard the faint dot dash as the
Admiralty replied. Pressing the earphones to his ears he concentrated
deciphering the message.

Once finished he turned his chair to the Officer and handed him the flimsy
paper containing their orders, Mister Johnson grabbed the message reading
it eagerly his face fell as he perused their orders. The nearest assistance
was some 30 hours away, a convoy making its way back from Murmansk
returning to England, the Admiralty had ordered a destroyer to leave the
convoy and speed to their rescue. This was only possible because the convoy
was still beyond the range of the enemy's bombers and reasonably safe from
attack, the Berber's remaining crew had to await the arrival of the
warship. The damage control party was, as he read the orders, below
attempting to shore up the buckled and warped bulkheads between the
undamaged hull and the hungry sea as it washed in and out of the shattered
forward section.

Charles now feeling pain free after the morphine was pulling himself to his
feet gritting his teeth as he expected the pain to sear through his body,
Bradley appeared a look of concern on his face after hearing his Captain
had been wounded. He rushed to Charles' side saying, "Captain you shouldn't
be trying to stand, you should be resting."

Charles turned to Bradley and said bluntly, "Help me into my jacket and
duffle coat I must check on the condition of the ship."

Bradley knowing Charles too well knew it was useless trying to dissuade him
helped the wounded man into his bloody clothing, he then took Charles good
arm over his shoulder supporting him and they hobbled forward to survey the
damage. Charles realised that his new ship was finished it would be
impossible to tow her back to England for repairs as the enemy would finish
the job and probably sink the vessel assisting her. He was resigned to
losing his second vessel in a short period and wondered if the Powers that
Be would entrust a third destroyer to him, his confidence wasn't high and a
sadness enveloped him as he thought of the good men lost in the missing bow
section which had taken A turret with it into the dark frigid depths.

The First Lieutenant appeared with a message flimsy proffering to Charles,
Charles took it and read the Admiralty's reply and nodded then asked for a
report on the damage. Johnson informed him that the shoring up was well in
hand and that the pumps were handling the leakage so far, he estimated the
ship would be able to stay afloat long enough for the rescuing destroyer to
take them off. Charles looked worried as he said, "I'm wondering about our
rescue, it would be a golden opportunity for a U-boat to lie in wait and
sink the approaching destroyer or wait till she stopped alongside then put
a fish into her. The enemy would be insane not to attempt such a coup."

Johnson replied, "Surely Sir, the U-boats would be strung out along the
convoy's route, we are well off their course and it should be safe surely?"

Charles' expression didn't change as he thought for a minute then said,
"Well it all depends on whether the enemy considers a destroyer worth the
task of diverting a submarine here or should I say a second destroyer and a
crew like us."

Berber lay wallowing in the slushy ice waiting the arrival of their
rescuers, the ship still had power as the engine rooms were undamaged, the
heating still operated keeping the interior at a livable temperature, not
warm but certainly above freezing as the traumatized men waited powerless
to do anything. Charles decided that the men needed to be active so he
ordered the ship's bow down position be leveled; this meant pumping fuel
into the stern tanks and shifting anything moveable aft. Slowly the forward
section leveled off after many hours of hard and constant labour, the
rudder and props submerged once again. Charles plan was to raise steam and
sail in reverse towards the approaching rescuer; the Chief Engineer
prepared the boilers and when ready the engines were put slow astern.

Frothing water slid past the sides of the rolling hull and slowly she began
to gather way as she moved backwards through the water, a ragged cheer went
up and the crew felt that they were now doing something valuable instead of
lying there inert. The gun crews closed up ready for action in case the
enemy returned and the ship slowly crawled to the North east. Charles
ordered ¼ astern and the engines revved faster, the ship shuddered and
picked up speed crawling along at a steady 8 knots. Charles realised that
if she could maintain this speed just maybe she could keep up with the
convoy as long as it wasn't a "fast" one of modern vessels which traveled
at up to 20 knots. Often the Murmansk route convoys were fast unlike the
slower Atlantic route he prayed that this was a slow group.

The trip in reverse was very tiring for the helmsmen and they were relieved
frequently, the physical strain of holding the ship on course was
exhausting as ships weren't meant to steam long distances astern and the
pressure on the steering was astronomical. Finally through the mists they
saw the camouflaged shape of a ship, the destroyer began flashing her
signal lamp asking her condition and Charles informed them they were
capable of maintaining 8 knots under the current conditions. The Captain of
the approaching vessel signaled that there was a front approaching from the
Arctic with gale force winds and blizzard conditions. Charles realised his
hopes were dashed and the Berber was finished they had to stop engines and
allow the destroyer alongside to take them off.

He ordered stop engines and the vibrations ceased, the shattered hull
slowed to a rolling stop on the building swells, as the destroyer slid
slowly alongside the Berber's crew were assembled waiting at the rails, the
wounded lying on stretchers on the deck covered in blankets for warmth. The
vessels touched gently and the wounded were passed quickly across to the
waiting seamen, the rest of Berber's crew jumped across the narrow gap as
the two hulls rolled, Charles passed the satchel of secret papers across to
his First Lieutenant as he ordered the demolition charges set off. He was
helped across the gap by Bradley and the Gunnery officer as he heard the
muffled thumps deep under the deck as the charges exploded opening her hull
to the hungry sea.

The Chief Engineer and two of his men appeared running across the already
sloping deck to leap across onto the deck of the rescuing destroyer as she
backed away from the stricken Berber. They turned slowly affording the
Berber's crew a last lingering look at their vessel as she quickly settled
deeper in the water, suddenly there was an explosion and a geyser of spray
flung high in the air. A second eruption occurred at the stern of the
sinking ship, two torpedoes launched from a submarine had luckily hit the
Berber as she settled deeper thus protecting the other ship with her deeper
draught. Their poor ship vanished from sight as they raced at full speed
stern on to the hidden attacker.

Charles was assisted below by Bradley and a Sub-Lieutenant of their
rescuer, he wanted to climb to the bridge but the Doctor forbad this
activity as his wound had begun bleeding again and he needed it redressed
in the sick bay. Grumbling he was taken below where they stripped his
saturated clothing from him and cleaned his bloody wound again. This time
the doctor decided stitches were required if Charles was to remain on his
feet and knowing his Captain that would be what he would demand. They
injected another ampoule of morphine into the wound and began stitching him
up, the job finished bandages were again wrapped around Charles trim
waist. He looked across the sick bay and saw young seaman Bryce lying on
one of the bunks and as soon as he was able he slid off the table to hobble
across to see the lad.

Bryce was swathed in bandages he had been on the bridge when the bomb
exploded and he'd taken a number of shrapnel wounds, Charles looked into
the lad's morphine drugged eyes and smiled at him saying, "Thank God you
survived Bryce I thought you had been killed. I hope you aren't in too much
pain and that nothing serious has been injured."

Bryce smiled wanly and croaked, "No sir everything's basically intact and
undamaged, I did take a belting and although I have enumerable punctures
the worst was the impact of the other lookout slamming into my crotch."

Charles placed a comforting hand on the boy's bare shoulder feeling the
warmth of his flesh caused a tremor to race through him as he bent to the
lad's ear whispering I'm so happy you are ok. We will be given survivors
leave when we get home you can come and recuperate at my estate if the
medical staff allows it."

Bryce's sexy lips turned up as he smiled and whispered, "That sounds great
Sir, I hope I'm allowed to be with you."

The Destroyer regained the convoy as the weather turned sour, the snow
began softly at first gradually building as the freezing wind blew, the
gale arrived and visibility closed down to a matter of yards as the convoy
struggled along battered by gale and sea. Ice formed heavily on the ships
superstructures, wires became thick cables of ice and the extra top hamper
began to effect the stability of the overloaded vessels as they rolled in
the huge seas, their crews were forced out on deck to wield steam hoses to
melt the crippling ice. This task was incessant and the battle was constant
as the tired men fought for their lives.

The only good side of the appalling weather was that the enemy were also
unable to attack, thus they only had to battle Mother Nature without
missiles of death and destruction being sent their way. The convoy laboured
on day after day as the Arctic Low storm followed them South, eventually it
passed on heading for Europe and the weather eased, the ships looked like
cake decorations as the weak sunlight filtered through the high cloud. The
ice reflected the light glistening and shining, slowly the sun warmed the
air melting the frost and the ships appeared in their camouflaged
colouring.

The weather had enabled them to run the gauntlet of the enemy without a
shell fired and they were now well south of the enemies' airfields on
Norway, they steamed on at their best speed towards England and
safety. Eventually reaching home base and they were relieved to be able to
see their charges into port and return to their base. Charles and Berber's
crew were disembarked ambulances waiting to take the wounded to shore based
hospital, Charles protesting as he was put aboard an ambulance to be
whisked away for an examination of his wound. Bradley was charged by his
Captain to head to his estate and prepare it for Charles' arrival and
hopefully Bryce would also be able to recuperate there with them.


                                                   To be continued.