CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ed Gallagher was a pleasant young man, just going into medical school in Belfast, having left a small farm when the MI-5 men had approached him. It was a perfect opportunity for adventure, something Ed craved, to defeat these Nazis and do something good for Ireland. Perhaps now his father would see him not as a failure.
"And so you be wanting more iodine?" he asked the Captain who saw the other ship floundering. .
The captain of the Cassandra was a stolid type, who did not go into trouble easily, but that figure on the other ship sure needed help. "I've this cut on my finger," he said and yelled at the trawler heading towards the New England shore. "Bloody bastards got caught in a drift! Get my log for me, Ed."
"Right skipper."
He picked up his spyglass and saw flying from the doomed ship, the Mexican flag, a banner with a symbol of Hercules raising an ox above his head, and underneath it, the British flag. "One of ours. Initials G I." He signaled the Grand Illusion, G I, but got no response and then he saw the figure waving frantically before collapsing. First, however, he had get Gallagher out before signaling the lead vessels of the convoy.. "Did you take inventory?"
"Yes. We have enough bandages, diapers, and pins," said Ed. "And several basters."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing? It's not as if you're a doctor."
"I'll have to study up. I haven't got to that part yet. I'll get the Lieutenant." He closed the door behind him.
Meanwhile, the captain got on the radio and gave the opening code. "Are you going to Mexico?"
A man with a Catalonian accent answered. "Who's asking?"
"Someone who is on the way to Oaxaca."
"The weather's quite warm there."
"Another of ours is in trouble. I tried to talk to them, but failed. I'm going to help."
"All right, but if you do not get back in transmission in a couple of days, we will assume you and the other of our group are lost." With that, the transmission ceased.
The Cassandra raced towards the doomed Grand Illusion, braving the storm that suddenly appeared as it did so at this time of the year. He turned the wheel, hollering and waving for the other ship to turn aside, but it was no use. It looked as if whoever had waved at them had just disappeared for the captain could not see him, nor could he see that a large wave was just about to splash over from the port side.
"Cursed storm," he yelled and turned the steering wheel to the right, a mistake that an experienced sailor in these parts never would do. Those who had made this error often wound up in the Devil's Graveyard, for the area seemed deceptively deep. The captain made out a large imposing building that stretched out, it appeared for miles, a few yards ashore.
He steered closer and then suddenly a large wave rushed over the ship. He steered the wheel back to the left, but it was too late. A loud crash sent him wheeling to the floor. He quickly recovered and blew the whistle. Then the ship moved, catching its bow on one of the jagged rocks that jutted from the ocean floor.
Staggering to his feet, the captain called to one of the passengers... "Find Lieutenant MacLeod, go with him and break down the door of the cabin and get the other passengers out. Tell them to grab as much as they can. I'll get their passports ready!" He rushed to his office, and opened the safe, taking out the metal box. A few seconds later, he heard the sound of axes and the couples scrambled out, heading for the lifeboats.
"Calmly, calmly! Women first! Men you have to help get the lifeboats ready!" He made a quick count. No one was missing. "See that you all keep together. Lieutenant MacLeod and I will stay here until you get ashore." He reached for a metal box. 'This contains the passports. One of you will have to take it."
"All vight," said Jarold taking it and the key from him, and noticing the blood stain that dripped from the captain's side. "You need helping?"
"No, I'm all right. Just see that the others get safely ashore." He watched as the small group rowed their way towards the coastline until darkness overcame him and he could see no more. .
After that, the lieutenant tried the radio. It was dead and already water was seeping inside. Meanwhile the passengers on the other ship were already climbing up the cliff on the Delaware coastline of the area called Blue Cove as the Cassandra passengers neared their location..
Ed Gallagher was a pleasant young man, just going into medical school in Belfast, having left a small farm when the MI-5 men had approached him. It was a perfect opportunity for adventure, something Ed craved, to defeat these Nazis and do something good for Ireland. Perhaps now his father would see him not as a failure.
"And so you be wanting more iodine?" he asked the Captain who saw the other ship floundering. .
The captain of the Cassandra was a stolid type, who did not go into trouble easily, but that figure on the other ship sure needed help. "I've this cut on my finger," he said and yelled at the trawler heading towards the New England shore. "Bloody bastards got caught in a drift! Get my log for me, Ed."
"Right skipper."
He picked up his spyglass and saw flying from the doomed ship, the Mexican flag, a banner with a symbol of Hercules raising an ox above his head, and underneath it, the British flag. "One of ours. Initials G I." He signaled the Grand Illusion, G I, but got no response and then he saw the figure waving frantically before collapsing. First, however, he had get Gallagher out before signaling the lead vessels of the convoy.. "Did you take inventory?"
"Yes. We have enough bandages, diapers, and pins," said Ed. "And several basters."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing? It's not as if you're a doctor."
"I'll have to study up. I haven't got to that part yet. I'll get the Lieutenant." He closed the door behind him.
Meanwhile, the captain got on the radio and gave the opening code. "Are you going to Mexico?"
A man with a Catalonian accent answered. "Who's asking?"
"Someone who is on the way to Oaxaca."
"The weather's quite warm there."
"Another of ours is in trouble. I tried to talk to them, but failed. I'm going to help."
"All right, but if you do not get back in transmission in a couple of days, we will assume you and the other of our group are lost." With that, the transmission ceased.
The Cassandra raced towards the doomed Grand Illusion, braving the storm that suddenly appeared as it did so at this time of the year. He turned the wheel, hollering and waving for the other ship to turn aside, but it was no use. It looked as if whoever had waved at them had just disappeared for the captain could not see him, nor could he see that a large wave was just about to splash over from the port side.
"Cursed storm," he yelled and turned the steering wheel to the right, a mistake that an experienced sailor in these parts never would do. Those who had made this error often wound up in the Devil's Graveyard, for the area seemed deceptively deep. The captain made out a large imposing building that stretched out, it appeared for miles, a few yards ashore.
He steered closer and then suddenly a large wave rushed over the ship. He steered the wheel back to the left, but it was too late. A loud crash sent him wheeling to the floor. He quickly recovered and blew the whistle. Then the ship moved, catching its bow on one of the jagged rocks that jutted from the ocean floor.
Staggering to his feet, the captain called to one of the passengers... "Find Lieutenant MacLeod, go with him and break down the door of the cabin and get the other passengers out. Tell them to grab as much as they can. I'll get their passports ready!" He rushed to his office, and opened the safe, taking out the metal box. A few seconds later, he heard the sound of axes and the couples scrambled out, heading for the lifeboats.
"Calmly, calmly! Women first! Men you have to help get the lifeboats ready!" He made a quick count. No one was missing. "See that you all keep together. Lieutenant MacLeod and I will stay here until you get ashore." He reached for a metal box. 'This contains the passports. One of you will have to take it."
"All vight," said Jarold taking it and the key from him, and noticing the blood stain that dripped from the captain's side. "You need helping?"
"No, I'm all right. Just see that the others get safely ashore." He watched as the small group rowed their way towards the coastline until darkness overcame him and he could see no more. .
After that, the lieutenant tried the radio. It was dead and already water was seeping inside. Meanwhile the passengers on the other ship were already climbing up the cliff on the Delaware coastline of the area called Blue Cove as the Cassandra passengers neared their location..