"MacDonnell, J E - 125 - Blind Into Doom UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacDonnell J E)

of fiction-though many of the incidents described did happen-
therefore the conversations, the actions, the mistakes and so-forth of
its characters are not meant to represent those of any actual persons,
alive or dead. This applies particularly to my principal character,
even though he is based, at least as regards nature and skill and
fighting toughness, upon a captain under whom I served, but many
thousands of miles away from the area dealt with herein. He is dead
now, by vice of a simple accident in London shortly after the war,
and it gives me pleasure to resurrect his memory through the following
pages.



CHAPTER ONE

CAPTAIN Richard Duncan, D.S.O. and Bar, Royal Navy, looked
upon his domain and found it good.
Certainly the homeward-bound convoy was still several hundred
miles from Liverpool, which placed it still under the threat of U-
boat attacks and the attention of Condor reconnaissance aircraft, but
Duncan was the type of man who thought of a bottle as being half-
full instead of half-empty, and he was now thinking of the thousands
of miles safely astern in lieu of those ahead.
In her capacity as heavyweight cover for the convoy, cruiser
Warwick steamed well to the north of it, but even without the glasses
which hung round his neck Duncan could see his charge-the
incredible whole thirty-eight ships of it-steaming in formation like
the Home Fleet at drill.
Well, not quite so precisely, he smiled a little at his fancy. And
some of those funnels down there were producing smears of black
which would never be tolerated in a warship. But the smoke had
produced neither torpedoes nor bombs, and that was all that mattered.
That, and the weather.
It was mid-morning. Along with the rest of his men at stand-
easy, Duncan was enjoying a sweet cup of coffee made with
unsweetened condensed milk. The season was early summer. Even
devotees might have thought thrice before entering the water off
Bondi or Cottesloe, but Duncan was thinking how pleasant it would
be to remove his serge jacket, for he had come through an Atlantic
winter and spring (there were some who swore you couldn't tell the
difference), and this weather was little short of heavenly.
Duncan put down his thick cup-it would be inadvisable to use
Sevres china here-on a small wooden shelf with sides reserved for
his use, and stretched his arms. The officer of the watch noted this
captainly gesture, as he did most of Duncan's, and felt like emulating
it. He also felt oddly pleased and relaxed, for a captain's manner can
affect his juniors in many subtle ways.
Unaware of the effect he had produced, Duncan quartered the
sea to the north of him, found it innocent of nasty objects like full
battleships or the pocket variety-there had been times, and names