MINE-LAYING BY NIGHT.

Taranaki Daily News, 4 March 1916, Page 12

MINE-LAYING BY NIGHT.

D'ANNUNZIO'S STORY. It can he said of the Italian war what Percy Sysshe Shelley said of the Medusa's head which he. saw in Florence, and which he attributed t.» Leonardo da —'lt's beauty and its horrer are divine" (writes Gabriele i'Annunzio in the Leaden Daily Telegraph). This night af danger and death is one of the sweetest that ever spread its blue veil over the face of the heavens. Th» sea darkens, and in its innumerable pulsations the nocturnal phosphorescence is already discernible. Here and there the rippled surface of the sea. glitters with an internal light as a quivering eyelid, disclosing mysterious glances'. The new moon is like a burning handful of sulphur. Ever and anon the black cloud of smoke, rising from the funnels, hides it or appears to drag it in its spirals like a moving flame. Life is not an abstraction of aspects and events, hut a sort of diffused sensuousness, a knowledge offered to all the senses, a substance good to touch, smell, taste, feel. In fact, I feel all the things near to my senses, like the fisherman walking barefooted on the beach covered with the incoming tide, and who now and then bends to identify and pick up what moves under the soles of his feet. The aspects of this maritime city are like my passions and like the monuments of Nineveh and Knessus. places of my ardor and creation of ray fancy, real and unreal, products of my desire and products of time. This city is one of those tumultuous harmonies whence often the most beautiful elements of my art are born. Nothing escapes the eyes Nature gave me, and everything i? food for my soul. Such a craving for life is not unlike the desire to die in order to achieve immortality. In fact, to-night 'death is present like life, beautiful as life, intoxicating, full of promises, transfiguring. I stand on my feet, wearing shoes that can easily be unlaced, on the deck of a small ironclad, on which there is only space enough for the weapons and the c'rew. Steam is up. The black smoke of the three funnels rises towards the new moon, shining yellow in the cloud, burning like a handful of sulphur. The sailor? have already donned life-saving belts and inflated the collars which must support the head in the agony of drowning. I hear the voice of the second officer giving the order to place in the only two boats the biscuits and the canned meat.

A NIGHT OPERATION. A young officer, muscular but agile .is a leopard, wlio lias Boldness' very eye?, and has to his credit already an'ad.nirp.blc manoeuvre in conduct!";,' the destroyer from the arsenal ic the anchorage, pays for the ch.impagnc Wo drink a cup sitting around the table on which the navigation chart is spread, while the commander of the flotilla dictates, standing, to the typist the order of the nocturnal operation, which is to he issued to the commanders of the ctlier ships. A suppressed joy shines in the eyes of all. The operation is fraught with dangers, is most difli.-i;U, and the cup we drink may be our lu,,t. An ensign, who is little more than a boy, and a Sicilian, who resembles an adolescent Arabian, brought up in the Court of Frederick of Suebia, rubs •« his hands a perfumed leaf, one of those leaves which are grown in a t.-:r.ic.:(ta vase on the parapets of the windows looking into the <'!ent lanes of ihr city. The perfume is so strong that ev?rv one of us smells it with suivering nostrils. That single leaf on that .terrible warship, where everything is iron ar.d fire, that leaf of love, seems (o us infinitely precioi.*. ?.iu!\';N.ii»ls us of the garden of Oiudecca and Fondamenta Kuova left behind The commander continues to dictate the order of the operation with his soft Tuscan accent, with some of the .same teling words that Ramondo d'Tmorctto Manelli used in the epistie he sent to Leonard Rtroz/.i when the Gooneso were vanquished by the navy of the Venetians and Florentines. Ours i s a marvellous exploit. We arc goin» to plant mines ne:ir the enemy's coast, only a bare kilometre from its formidable batteries. The ensign fastens the black collar around his neck, and will presently inflate it with his breath. LEAVING THE ANCHORAGE. We are ready. We s-.i!. The firmament over our heads i s covered with sniok* and sparks. Along the gunwale, on each side of the ship, the enormous mines in their iron cages rest on the supports projecting over the water. The long torpedoes arc; ready for the attack, proteeted by their iron tubes, with their bronze head charged with trytol, beasts in ambuscade. The sailors, their heads covered, are grouped around the guns, whose breeches are open. All the available space is strewn with weapons and- contrivances, and full of alert men. Iu order to go from stern to prow it is necessary t» crouch, bend, pass under a greasy torpedo, leap over outstretched sailors, strike the leg against the fastening of a torpedo, squeeze against a hot funnel, entangle oneself in a rope, receive squarely in the face a dash of foam while grasping the railing. I ascend the bridge. We are already clear of the. anchorage. It is dark. , Tim moeii is dipping in the sea. In an hour it will have disappeared. The ship quivers at the vibration of the machinery. The funnels still emit too much smoke and too many sparks. On board all the lights are out, even the cigarettes. Darkness enshrouds alike both prow and stern. The last order megaphoned resounds in an azure dotted with sparks and stars—which are only inextinguishable sparks. A light mist rises from the water. The wake foams, and the sea ahead parts in two broad furrews along the sides of the ship, giving forth, now and then, strange reflections.

Following in our wake the second if'stiover Isoms up darkly, and after her all the others in line. When the route is changed to reconnoitre the coast, from the great central wake many oblique ones p.irt, designing an immense silver rake. TWENTY-THREE KNOTS. The commander is against the railing, leaning out towards darkness, with his whole s»'jl in his scrutinising eyes. Now and then he turns his ruddy face, and transmits an 6tdcr with exact and sharp words. The lielinsinan at the wheel never once reuieves his eye from the compass, lighted by a small lamp in a screened niche. Clearly he is a man of the purest Tyrrenean race, a true comrade of Ulysses, with a. face which seems to have brai modelled by the trade wind. New by is the signal-box. "Half-speed," "Full speed," "Slow," ''Stop." Through the speaking-tube, the orderg are transmitted to the engine worn. "Four—three—zero." We are making 23 knots an hour. He foam of the great wake glitters under the stem lights. "4. little to the

The navigating efticer is bending over the chart, held down by lead weights covered 'with cloth, measuring, figuring ■with the compass and the square, under the blue light of a shaded lamp. A great shooting star crosses the August sky, disappearing tswards the Cappella. Impatience gnaws my heart. I strain my ?';:!tl to discern in the darkness the signal which has been prearranged. Notliinj; i- !i- be seen yet. I descend from the ladder and move towards the stern, skirting the row of torpedoes, leaping over ike outstretched sailors. From the stern (he dark silhouettes of the otter destroyers in line are visible. All of p. sudden (lie signal is flashed in the direction of the prow. We are Hearing tlie s:;ot of our operation. Every will is strained. "One—Twe—Zero." The speed is reduced to six knots. The funnels still emit too much smoke and too many sparks. The commander is furious. Orders are megaphoned, and every word seems to crowd the adventurous air witli danger. The manoeuvre ii executed with a sort of rhythmic precision. Maintaining their distance, and one by one, every ship files to the starboard of us, standing black over the foaming wake, lighted every now and then by a strange phosphorescence. IN SHALLOW WATERS. "On reaching the eastern route for the planting of the mines, extinguish the stern lights," cries the megaphone. Under the playing searchlights the enemy's coast is clearly visible. We are in low water, and the speed is further diminished. "One—Zero—Zero." We almost touch bottom, and proceed by feeling our course ahead. We also take soundings continuously to avoid running aground. Tiie ships seem to pant and puff grievedly as great mammals in danger of running ashore. "Reverse engines! Full speed!" One of the ships feels she cannot manoeuvre any longer, having actually struck bottom, and endeavours to free herself. She lies ahead of us, and within {speaking distance. We see the water glitter under the blue light of her stern lanterns. It seems to us now that every other shr£ is in danger. The sky is veiled. Long Medusan tresses of clouds drag the constellation as the net 'drug* silvery fiishes. The engines throb painfully. The commander is there, all soul, defying the darkness with his eyes. What if at that moment the enemy skjyiii sight us? "The Invicto leads." His clear orders through a series of manoeuvres draw away the flotilla from the shallow waters and on to the safe course. Beyond, on the shore, the enemy's searchlights are seen crossing each other like white blades. Under the light the shore seems so near as to give one the illusion of being about to drop anchor. We are all tensely waiting. In a few seconds we shall be in the prearranged spot. Minutes seem hours. The rubber stoppers have been removed from the tubes. The mines are ready, on their supports, to be lowered into the sea. The sailors await the order standing.

DROPPING THE MINES. The minutes are eternal. We may be detected every second. The shore is only a mile from us. The funnels are our despair. They will emit too much smoke and sparks. At, last a warming iheard from the bridge '•Ready!" The lieutenant looks at his witch lighting the dial with the lamp hidd-'i in his hand. The enormous mines. »lw-f heads are charged with ilestriie' : ■•". ai> there silent, like ■; " \ ; ; sea Medusas, *L\- ' ' whose doubl» toof, waters. "Ready!" "Let Eighteen elapsft. TU» isooa* falls, followed fey the third, fwiriVanl <V the others, on. every el'iji wjiieh Maintains a diagonal course ue*riM£ th« coast. In three minxes the operatUn is over; the mines arc jointed in iltt ex•ict spot. The teeth of the. 'jew jdeam in a wild smile. Each sailor In ms ; heart the enemy's battleships rent and sinking. '•Four —Three —Zeru." We resume our position at the head • f the line, returning on our course with the initial speed. The ships seem now to me to be quivering with warlike joy. In the distance over the mainland the white beams of the searchlight still cross each other. Ever and anon a. rocket explodes. Our wake new is so beautiful as to resemble a whirling milky way. A sailor mounts on the bridge and gives us a cup of steaming coffee, the aroma of which titillates our nostrils and our heart. We light our cigarettes. But here is a Marconigram. "Look cut —two submarines are lying in wait for you on the safe route." And in the first quiver of dawn, with expanded lungs, we agsin breathe danger and death.