The Struggle for Empire/Chapter 9
CHAPTER IX
The End of the Battle
When the hundred and twentieth hour of the battle struck, the Anglo-Saxons were virtually defeated, for they were hopelessly outnumbered. All around lay fragments of mighty vessels, masses of machinery, and thousands of human bodies torn and mangled in the most horrible manner. Masses of wreckage were drifting about, sometimes collecting in vast piles that rotated slowly about the centre of gravity. Here and there lay some maimed monster, unable to move, but still firing its uninjured guns. Columns of smoke came rolling along from the regions where the battle was still raging, and then vanished again into the distance. Sometimes a stray shell or a torpedo that had missed its mark struck a mass of wreckage and hurled it far and wide. The tide of battle rolled along through the starry depths, strewing its path with destruction and death.
The Anglo-Saxon Admiral-in-Chief now saw that it was a case of surrender or the total annihilation of his fleet. He preferred the latter; death was better than disgrace. With the courage of despair, he resolved to gather together his remaining forces and make one giant stroke to ward off defeat. All the remaining battleships that still had their engines intact were collected together and formed into line while the torpedo-boats flung themselves on to the enemy to divert their attention. The admiral's ship was in front of the line to lead the way. When they were all ready a last signal was made from the flag-ship: Conquer or die.
A cheer roared through every ship when the signal was made out. The guns that were left were pulled in to prevent them from being damaged. Then the order was given to charge the enemy at full speed. The captains pulled their levers, and the long line dashed into space. But, to the astonishment of the men, they appeared to be flying away from the battle area. So thought the enemy, too, but they were mistaken. They prepared to start in pursuit, and shook themselves free from the pestering torpedo-boats. But suddenly the long line wheeled right round and came towards them at a thundering pace. They tried to open out, but in vain: there was no time. Some reversed their engines and began to retreat; others had just time to swing round so that only their bows were exposed to the charging mass. A tremendous cannonade was opened, but it did not check the oncoming mass. In a few seconds the intervening space was crossed, the admiral's flag-ship still leading the way. Then the monstrous ships leaped upon the enemy with the force and courage of despair. There was a frightful crashing, rending, tearing. Some of the ships met bow to bow and ram to ram, and quivered through and through with the shock. Others sent their rams along the sides of their opponents, ripping up the thick armour plating as if it had been paper and laying bare the palpitating machinery and honey-combed compartments. Many charged into the battleships broadside and sent their rams right through the double walls of metal plating, through the engine-rooms, and out again the other side, bearing the stricken ship along with them by the momentum they had accumulated. A few that had been previously severely handled folded up under the shock and were reduced to a state of utter powerlessness. Many of the magazines exploded from the shock, blowing everything around them to pieces and making huge chasms in the fighting masses. The space around was filled with blinding flashes, sheets of flame, and clouds of smoke. The charging vessels still crashed along, dashing alike into friend and foe in the confusion. In a few minutes what was left of the Anglo-Saxon fleet emerged on the other side, but there were only thirty vessels remaining out of the vast fleet. Some were rocking from side to side from the effects of the shock, while others were spinning round. There was not a ship that had escaped unscathed.
The captains looked round to see what had been the effect of the charge. The enemy's line was annihilated; their ships were mixed up together in inextricable confusion. More than a hundred vessels had been rendered hors de combat.
But there was little cause for self-congratulation. Fresh lines of the enemy's ships were bearing down on the devoted bands of Anglo-Saxons. Onward they came, their bright sides, as yet untouched by shot or shell, gleaming in the flashes of the searchlights. Wearily, but bravely, the vanquished men ran out their guns, and prepared to destroy until they were themselves destroyed. Four of the smaller ships were despatched to Neptune with the news of their defeat and the overwhelming odds to which they were exposed. Then the relentless lines closed in around them, and the tempests of shots came crashing through their hulls. The flag-ship perished first, being completely shot to pieces, the brave admiral and his officers still holding out until they were suffocated by the escape of air. The vessels were destroyed one by one, the Sirian ships searching them out with their powerful lights, and firing at them till they were totally wrecked. But the destruction of the last terrible charge still haunted their memory, and they wisely separated out and kept their distance. Ten ships were now left, but they fought bravely on, still working their guns with the same precision as at the commencement of the fight. And they could still bite, as many a Sirian battleship found out to its cost when a shell was hurled right into its vitals.
The battle had now lasted six days, and only five ships remained to the Anglo-Saxons. These were destroyed one by one, until the Sirian fleet rode over the scene of the battle without an enemy to hinder it. They had now about 800 ships remaining, but they had lost many more than the Anglo-Saxons. For a long time they were busily employed in collecting the spoils of the victory and in succouring those of their own ships that had been more severely handled. Chains were thrown across many of the larger wrecks, and they were attached to the Sirian ships, to be towed back to Kairet as trophies of the fight. But the victorious fleet had to pick its way carefully through the wrecks, for the battle area was full of unexploded shells and wandering torpedoes. A few days afterwards they were joined by another fleet more vast than the one that had been fighting. This had been hovering in the rear during the battle, and had been kept constantly informed of what had taken place. So vast was the power, and so enormous were the resources of Kairet, that they even had a third fleet ready behind this one, so they were prepared to carry the war into the heart of the Anglo-Saxon Empire, and exterminate it—if they could.
When all the spoil that was worth taking had been removed, and the conquering vessels had been supplied with more ammunition by their tenders, the united fleets set out for Neptune, while the third fleet followed leisurely in the rear.