94 
Lights Out

Above in the lighthouse, Chalmondley Beauchamp frantically flashed one last message out to sea.

He knew it was over. They would hang him, shoot him, or imprison him for life for treason. Below he now heard the clanking echo of footsteps running up the stairs.

Frantically he repeated his final communication to the Admiral Uelzen. Maybe some of those below could get away.

Then he would do what he had to do.

“If they are in trouble, we have to turn around,” shouted Captain Dietz to his crew in the German submarine. “They may need to get away. We’ve got to pick up whoever makes it out of there.”

“What about the English cruiser?” asked his second in command.

“The other vessels can take care of it,” replied Captain Dietz. “Colonel Wolfrik’s mission is vital and must not be compromised. We have to rescue him if possible. If we are delayed, the other U-boats have the coordinates.”

“I have a further message coming in now, Captain,” yelled Corporal Ubel—“ . . . stand by . . . prepare to take aboard survivors . . . major raid appears—”

He stopped.

“What is it, Corporal?”

“I’m looking, sir,” he replied, still peering through the lenses of the periscope, “but there’s no more—the lighthouse just went black. This time it looks like for good.”

“That must be it, then. They must have got to him,” said Captain Dietz. “Full speed astern!”