BLINKING its ghostly owl-eye in the still darkness of the night, the lightship Wells tugged gently at her anchor, and rolled lazily in the swell of the sea. For nine months the boat had been in this one spot, save to resume position when she dragged anchor.
Jerry Crain, the first mate, sweated in the sultry air of the summer night and stared disgustedly at the lights in New York City. Coming to his side, Captain Crisman nodded to the distant glow, “Pretty, eh?”
“Bah!” Jerry said, wrinkling his nose. “I’m sick of it! No action except eating and fishing. Why, there’s a war going on, and what do we do but flop on this tub and watch the lights!”
Captain Crisman glanced at him queerly. “It’s more important than you think! We’re part of New York’s defense! If it weren’t for us here to warn of the channel’s end, half the ships entering the harbor would run aground off Breezy Point or the Atlantic Highlands!”
“I guess you’re right, Captain, but I sure wish I could get my teeth into some action!”
“Who knows, Jerry? In the last war, the German cruiser Emden, flying a French flag, slipped into an Allied harbor and sunk a couple Russian warships! That might happen here!”
“Naw, no such luck. The boys from Fort Tilden would pick them off before we could see them!”
“Perhaps, but camouflage fools the best of us!”
In the days that followed, Jerry often saw the lights of the great city wink out during blackout practice, but he scoffed at the sight. He just couldn’t picture any enemy getting this far, by air or sea. It seemed ridiculous to even think of it.
Jerry was sitting on the rail of the bridge when Captain Crisman came up. “Jerry, I’m being sent to Boston for a week or so, and you’re left in charge here. See that everything is kept shipshape, and I’ll see you soon.”
The Captain departed in a motor launch and Jerry watched him go, wishing that something would pop up to send him off.
SPITTING fire through its overheated exhaust pipes, the fishing boat came tearing out of the night! Its deck was a mass of wreckage, with gaping holes, like great eyes, in the hull. Huge bites were taken out of the pilot house, as if by an enormous mouth. The boat smacked against the side of the lightship, and the master came out of the wheelhouse, shouting at the top of his lungs.
“Japs! A whole ship full of them! They shot me up and left me to sink, knowing that I had no radio. They’re flying the British flag and headed for the harbor under half-speed, that’s how I beat them here. You gotta do something, quick! It’s probably a suicide ship, a cruiser, I think!”
“Holy smokes! Are you sure?”
“Positive! And you’ll only have a few minutes to do something!”
“Right! Beach your boat at Breezy Point. Then notify the coast artillery at Fort Tilden. I have an idea!”
The power boat sped toward the shore. Jerry hoped that it would hold together long enough to reach. He didn’t dare radio, for fear of being intercepted.
Staking everything on a mad gamble, he called the crew to their stations! Quickly they got the anchors up and the motor started. With the deck pulsating beneath them, the Wells moved closer to the shore, until she lay only a half mile off. Any ship that tried to skirt the lightship now would be hopelessly beached!
With night glasses glued to his eyes, Jerry studied the ocean. Before many minutes a grey hull slide into view, a warship of rakish design flying the Union Jack. This was it! He studied it in detail, to be sure of making no mistakes. That was no Britisher, nor one of ours; the construction was decidedly Japanese! Well, they had a surprise coming, all right!
But the action on shore had taken another twist, too. The power launch ran ashore, and the skipper dashed to a bungalow to telephone. Now in that house, the beach lifeguards were having a party. When they heard the excited babble of the boatman they lost no time.
“Mickey,” the captain, hollered to the rest. “Gill, Wilson, Lane! Hey, the rest of you guys, too! Let’s get in on this. Get some of the boys from the other beaches. We’ve got a job to do!”
Steam was pouring from the stacks of the warship when the commander spotted the lightship. He threw an order to a junior officer in a high, sharp voice, and the ship eased off to the right a little. His carefully planned plot was progressing nicely, he mused. Only once did his brow wrinkle. That was when he thought he saw the shore, but that couldn’t be, he thought.
***
CRASH! The ship lurched violently, its keel scraping along the bottom! The bow shot up as the water grew shallower. Men were pitched from their positions into the sea, while others fell from the rigging. Slowly the great ship tilted to one side, hopelessly wedged in the sand!
There was no time to launch the boats; men milled around in the water, struggling to get free of their clothes. Even then the commander shouted his orders in clipped Japanese. “To the shore! Do as much damage as you can!” The little brown men started swimming.
“Here they come, guys. Do your stuff!”
The lifeguards grinned at each other, and powerful muscles rippled as they swam to meet the Japs. The little men never knew what hit them. A tug at the leg, a strong hand around a throat, and bubbles! Big Wilson was clipping chins and sinking Japs so fast he hardly had time to breathe.
WHAM! BAM! BLUBBB! They were disappearing by the score! But even at that rate hundreds were reaching the shore. Down swooped the boys from Fort Tilden! The call had gotten them up in the middle of the night, and they hadn’t had time to dress, but nobody cared.
Like a plague, they rolled across the sand to meet the Japs, shouting a mighty battle yell!
That wave of men hit the advancing Japs like a thunderbolt. Picking them off, they saw the Japs had no guns, so, spearing their bayoneted guns into the sand, they waded into the Japs with their bare hands and batted the brown men to the ground. Then they picked them up … shook them like terriers, and tossed them back into the ocean!
Sergeant Devlin was late to the fray. He took one look and shouted, “Well, what d’ya know! Jappies! If you guys don’t save a few for me I’ll knock yer ears off!”
The sarge was the regiment’s heavyweight champ, and when he waded in, Japs flew around like snowflakes!
But on the wrecked boat, some of the men mounted machine guns on two life rafts and paddled for shore. If they ever reached, many would shed their blood on the sand. Jerry caught this from the Wells with his night glasses, and a longboat went over the side. With the two cylinder engine putt-putting, he made for the floating death. He quickly jabbed one of the blades on his two bladed pocket-knife into the wooden bow … and chugged on! But, they spied him coming, opening fire with the gun!
BULLETS took chunks out of the wood and whizzed around his head, but they couldn’t stop Jerry! His longboat plowed into the rubber boat with a soggy crunch, the knife ripping it open like a toy balloon! That was the last of them! But, it seemed to be the last of him, too, for water was pouring into the boat. Jerry slipped into a lifejacket and headed for shore.
The Japs in the other rubber boat patted their machine gun convincingly. They hadn’t been seen. Or so they thought!
Mickey swam over to Gill. “Hey, Joe. There’s another mess of them. Let’s get ’em!”
Joe grinned. “Come on!” he whispered. They oozed through the slight swells, keeping well down in the water. They reached the rubber boat, and nodding at each other, grabbed the side and spilled the whole mess into the sea! The Japs came up spluttering. A fist came out of no where, and one groaned and went down! Others were just vanishing as pairs of hands grabbed their legs and yanked. They didn’t come up again!
Shouts from the shore brought the lifeguards in. They had cleaned out all that were left in the water, but when they got to shore they had no chance for further action. The soldiers had done a good job. The beach was a mess of fallen Japs who lay very, very still. It had all happened so fast that it was hard to believe.
Jerry was being patted on the back by the soldiers, and the lifeguards were gabbing the action over with many gestures. The commanding officer of the fort came up to Jerry.
“That sure was a nice piece of work, Mr. Crain. Took fast thinking, and I commend you for it!” The officer bent over and whispered in Jerry’s ear, “Now, if I were you, I’d hustle back to my ship before a cutter comes around. A ship without a Captain spells maritime court, even in a case like this!”
***