The Man who Missed the War (5 page)

‘Then you
will
need crews?’

‘Yes—servicing crews, but not men on each raft. Look, the large lozenge marked M is the mother-ship of the convoy. Her function is a dual one; to protect the rafts from sabotage by enemy U-boat crews and to house the personnel who will service the rafts. She does not have to be fast or very large. Any old hooker of eight hundred tons or so would do, provided she is mounted with a good big gun to drive off subs and a derrick capable of lifting in-board lozenges C and D—which are two large motor launches—whenever bad weather blows up. The mother-ship could carry the spare sails, extra beacons, and lengths of cable, and so on. Every day parties of the men in her would go off in the motor boats and make the complete round of the convoy, landing on each raft to inspect it. They would test the beacons, lower as many of the sails as time permitted if the wind was becoming unfavourable, or fit new ones after a storm, and keep an eye on cables connecting raft to raft, so that if any of them showed signs of chafing steps could be taken to prevent the cable wearing through.’

‘I see,’ the Canon drew a finger along one of the lanes between two strings of rafts. ‘I wondered why you hadn’t made the whole thing a complete network, but, of course, if the rafts were all connected to one another laterally, as in the front row, the servicing parties would not be able to get at the inner ones.’

‘Exactly. I would have preferred to link the whole lot up, because I believe they would keep station better if each were attached to three or four of the others instead of only two; but if I did I don’t quite see for the moment how I could prevent the propellers of the servicing launches becoming fouled by the connecting cables. Still, we may find a way to get over that.’

‘The whole idea is most ingenious, Philip. But I’m a little doubtful whether you’d find the wind of much assistance. The odds against it blowing for any length of time in the exact direction required to drive your rafts along the shortest course between New York and Northern Ireland must be pretty high.’

‘Oh, but that isn’t necessary,’ Philip laughed. ‘The nearer that course it is the better, naturally; but any wind from the southwest quadrant of the compass which would carry the convoy towards a two thousand mile arc—of which Cape Clare in Southern Ireland is the centre—would serve. You see, there is no way in which these raft convoys could be steered right up to a port. The tugs would serve only to help keep them going in a generally north-westerly direction. But they would have to be met and brought in. Each convoy would be able to give its position daily by its wireless and all British aircraft could be given permanent instructions to keep a look-out for raft convoys in the Western Approaches. Then a flotilla of sea-going tugs would be sent out to the place indicated, the convoy would be split into ten, or perhaps twenty, strings, and each of the tugs would tow its own quota of rafts the last few hundreds miles to whatever port or ports had at that particular time the best facilities for their reception.’

‘You certainly seem to have thought of everything. How much cargo would one of these raft convoys bring over?’

‘A hundred and twenty-five thousand tons.’

‘That sounds an enormous amount!’

‘Well, if each raft is a hundred feet square, that gives it an area of ten thousand square feet. I should make the cargo containers five feet in height; no more as it is the Gulf Stream that we are mainly depending on—the prevailing wind is only a subsidiary factor, and if the height of the containers is kept low the current would more or less neutralise anything but a strong adverse wind once the sails were down or blown out. Five feet in height would give us fifty thousand cubic feet of cargo space, and the measure being forty cubic feet to the ton it comes out at one thousand two hundred and fifty tons per raft, and for the hundred rafts one hundred and twenty-five thousand.’

‘I do congratulate you,’ the Canon said enthusiastically. ‘Of course, there may be all sorts of snags to it that a professional sailor would point out, but for the life of me I can’t see why it shouldn’t work. Unless the containers are very strong and absolutely watertight they would not be suitable for the transport of the more easily spoiled types of cargo, and the time taken is against anything that would be required on a high priority. But, even if it did take two or three months to get each of your convoys over, it still seems the perfect answer to lifting from our ordinary shipping the burden of the millions of tons of raw materials and tinned goods that we’d need in a war. I take it, too, that these rafts would prove practically unsinkable if attacked by enemy submarines?’

Philip laughed as he rolled up the big sheet of paper. ‘Yes, in a way that’s the cream of the whole idea. A U-boat could sink the tugs and blow the rafts to pieces one by one by gunfire, but to do that she’d have to surface, and she wouldn’t dare do that so long as the mother-ship were afloat. The rafts would draw so little water that torpedoes would pass right under their bottoms—even if a U-boat captain considered it worth launching a £2,000 tinfish at one of them. In addition, they are as invulnerable from air attack as anything afloat can be. I worked it out that the total area of the hundred rafts comes to one million square feet, while the area covered by the whole convoy, when fully extended, would be eighty-one million; so the odds against a bomber getting a direct hit on any of the rafts would be eighty-one to one. And the worst that anything short of a direct hit could do would be to capsize one of the rafts or break some of the cables.’

‘Have you shown this idea to your father yet?’

‘No. He’s away on one of his duty visits to Devonport at the moment.’

‘But you will, of course, when he gets back?’

‘Yes, I think so,’ Philip replied a trifle hesitantly.

A little smile twitched the corners of the Canon’s mobile mouth. ‘You’re afraid of your father, aren’t you, Philip? I mean, in spite of the fact that you have the courage to defy him occasionally when you get yourself really wrought up, you are generally vaguely apprehensive in case he will disapprove of anything a little out of the ordinary that you may do or say.’

‘Well, yes, I suppose I am. How did you know?’

‘Oh, I just sensed it. But you shouldn’t be, you know. He’s very fond of you, and extremely proud of the way you’ve buckled down to making a career for yourself. He’s said so to me on more than one occasion.’

‘He certainly doesn’t go out of his way to show it when I’m about.’

‘No, I don’t suppose he does. Like so many people, unfortunately, he’s tied up in knots and finds it difficult to give expresson to his feelings. That’s all the more reason why you should give him all the opportunities you can to get closer to you. Age is no barrier between friends, and there is no earthly reason why it should be between parents and their children. I do urge you, Philip, to try to make more of a friend of your father, for his sake as well as your own, and to ask his views on this provides an excellent opening.’

‘All right,’ Philip agreed. ‘He’ll almost certainly think I’m crazy, but I’ll try the raft convoy on him when he gets back from Devonport next week.’

Having consulted his father, Philip telephoned the Canon and was again asked to dinner. When he reached the Rectory he found his host in the garden, admiring the crocuses, narcissi and daffodils in his Spring border; but he turned at once on Philip’s approach and, taking his arm, exclaimed: ‘Well, what does he think of it?’

‘He was very much nicer about it than I thought he would be,’ said Philip. ‘I expected him to say the whole thing was sheer lunacy, but he didn’t. He put down his
Times
at once and seemed quite flattered at being consulted. He heard me out to the end too, and then asked all sorts of shrewd questions; but I’m afraid it’s no good.’

‘Why not?’

‘He agrees that the fundamental idea of using the Gulf Stream and the prevailing wind is quite sound; but he said that I’m wrong in supposing that because the rafts were all moving in the same direction and under the same stresses they would automatically keep station. He was quite definite that even if we used double cables to connect the rafts they would snap in no time.’

‘Well, that
is
a blow!’ For a moment the Canon was silent, then he went on. ‘You know, I was really convinced that you had something that might be of inestimable value to the country if we do have to fight the Germans again. However I suppose it’s not much good pursuing it further, if your father considers it quite impracticable.’

‘I’m afraid not.’ Philip sighed; and to take his mind off his disappointment the Canon changed the subject.

For several months neither of them mentioned the Raft Convoy again; but their three evenings alone together in so short a
time had greatly strengthened the bond between them, and it gradually became a regular custom for Philip to dine with the Canon every ten days or so.

Although now twenty-two, Philip was in some ways still young and undeveloped for his age. He had never been a keen dancer and was not very interested in either girls or sport. From the time he had been given his first set of Meccano all his enthusiasm had been devoted to mechanical things and engineering problems. By securing a good opening in a big aircraft firm he had already achieved one of his ambitions, but now, after the excitement of the first months in the works had worn off, he might normally have become more socially inclined. Instead, his friendship with the wise and worldly Canon supplied him with all the new interest he needed to keep his active mind fully occupied. On their evenings together they talked of many things, and Philip, whose education had been mainly devoted to practical subjects, found himself embarking for the first time on the fascinating realm of speculation—of mythology, pre-history, philosophy, ethics, psychology—and he rarely left the Rectory without borrowing two or three books from the great collection that lay scattered all over the house.

From mid-May onwards, whenever it was fine, they spent most of the evening in the old garden. They were out in it one sultry night in September and had not spoken for some time. All the world was worried because Mr. Chamberlain had gone to Munich, and nobody yet knew if he would bring back peace or war. Suddenly, the Canon broke the companionable silence.

‘Philip, did you ever do anything more about your raft convoy?’

‘No. I thought about it for a bit, but Father’s objection seemed to create a complete impasse. If the strain would snap the cables how else could one keep the convoy together? There just doesn’t seem any answer to that.’

‘You didn’t try to get a second opinion?’

‘No.’

‘Well, I think you should.’ The Canon leant forward earnestly. ‘The Powers that sustain Good against Evil made the tides and the winds just as much as they made us. This Nazi thing is evil; few of us can doubt that now. It thrives on the persecution of the
innocent and seeks to rule by force through Fear. God knows we’re in no state to wage war, but we may have to if we are to save our souls alive! If we have to pass through the fire again, the Great Ones will not forsake us, because, however shy the British people may be of admitting it, they still carry in their hearts the insignia of Saint George. Yet the Great Ones choose strange ways to aid those of their children who stand in dire peril through their own folly, and their maps are far larger than any the puny mind of man could conceive; so it may be that even when the world was young they foresaw this coming hour of trial, and ordained the ocean drift from West to East to be our salvation.’

He thoughtfully snapped off the dead head of a late rose before continuing: ‘I think you ought to put down your whole scheme on paper as clearly but as briefly as you can and send it, or—better still—take it yourself, to the Admiralty.’

Philip nodded. ‘It’s queer that you should suggest that, because only this morning I was thinking just the same thing. Unfortunately old Admiral Jolly is out in the Mediterranean now—otherwise, I’d take it to him.’

For the next few nights he worked like a beaver, but by the time he had finished his draft Mr. Chamberlain was back from Munich with his piece of paper, and admiring crowds were applauding him for having secured ‘Peace in our time’.

Philip took his draft round to the Canon, who suggested a few minor improvements, and they discussed its prospects.

‘I don’t stand anything like the chance of securing a good hearing as I did a week ago,’ said Philip ruefully.

‘I don’t altogether agree about that,’ the Canon replied. ‘The Service Chiefs must have the sense to realise that our having thrown the unfortunate Czechs to the wolves cannot possibly be the final solution of our own problem. Personally, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if Chamberlain were for once pulling a fast one on Hitler. The Prime Minister must know how hopelessly unprepared for war we are, and this may be a ruse to lull Germany’s suspicions—a measure to buy time—while we set our house in order and rearm as swiftly as we can.’

‘Perhaps. If you’re right the old raft convoy may meet with a good reception. In any case, I’m determined now to do my
damnedest to put it over. I believe in it. I’m dead certain that the scheme could be made workable if only the Admiralty technicians got busy on it.’