Frogman! by J.E. Macdonnell

Author:J.E. Macdonnell [Macdonnell, J.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Maritime fiction, Nautical fiction, RAN, Royal Australian Navy, World War II Fiction
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 2023-05-31T23:00:00+00:00

“The diving boat from Balmoral’s been delayed an hour,” Henley told them after lunch. “I know your ears are okay, but we might as well test ’em for depth. And you’ve got to go through it sometime or other.”

“We have to go,” said Gellatly politely, “through what?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Henley smiled, a little viciously they thought. “Chapter Four. The decompression chamber. An R.N. instructor is taking you through. Ex-submarine. Come on.”

They walked towards the long grey cylinder, resting quietly in its chocks.

“You ain’t takin’ us?” Bluey queried.

“Be your age! I don’t want my head blown in!”

They were bright and cheerful as they scrambled through the small manhole. Gellatly came upright inside and looked about him. The chamber was bare save for a couple of wooden benches running along either side, a telephone to the outer air, a very solid steel manhole, a spanner lying on the floor beneath a pressure valve, and on the bulkhead a gauge showing the pressure of air and the comparative depth of salt water. Everything about the chamber looked tremendously solid. Sitting on the benches, looking about them, the reason for such strength of structure gradually seeped into their consciousness. The cheeriness and badinage had noticeably quietened by the time their Royal Navy instructor slid his skinny length in through the manhole. Gellatly learned later his last job over the other side was wriggling through the conning-tower hatch of a sunken U-boat off Grimsby to retrieve her confidential books.

He looked experienced—lean-faced, browned, a calm authority about him gained from years of underwater experience. He stood just inside the manhole and said:

“Now, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” The voice was from Nottingham, nasal and penetrating.

“Famous last words,” Bluey contributed in a doubtful whisper. The instructor ignored him. His long thin face was competent and matter-of-fact.

“If the pressure gets too solid just hold up your hand and we’ll slop everything. When your jaws get stiff, wriggle ’em. If your ears pain so’s you can’t stand it, grab your snitch and blow hard and you’ll clear ’em. You won’t be able to talk much, or even whistle—the pressure on your throat will be too great. Now, before we go, I don’t want anybody holding up his hand just because he feels a twinge of pain. Wait till you’re almost out to it. But you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Of course not, Gellatly thought—nothing to worry about, nothing at all. Just a pressure on your throat so great you can’t talk! He looked at his fellow trainees. They were not laughing.

The instructor picked up the spanner and, with two sharp smacks on the steel side, a pause, then another, made its use apparent. Gellatly noted he had sent the letter “D” in Morse. “D” for “Down”? It was down all right. A second, then they were deafened by a scream of high-pressure air from a valve. Almost at once they felt the forcing on their ear-drums. Their jaws, too, became stiff, but a wriggle got rid of that.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.