Battle of the River Plate, The Page #5

Year:
1956
421 Views


How are things?

Most of the torpedo crews

are killed or wounded.

- Any spare hands?

- Yes. On the job now, sir.

- All communications are cut, sir.

- I'll fight the ship from here.

Gyrocompass?

- Failed, sir.

- Get a boat's compass.

One up here.

One down below with the standby helmsman.

How are you going to transmit orders?

It's three decks down.

- Form a chain of men. Jump to it.

- Yes, sir.

By God, she's firing again

with her other two turrets!

Good old Hookie.

- You sent for me, sir?

- I did. I want...

- What the hell's this?

- Petrol from the punctured aircraft.

We're trying to get it over the side.

Another flash from the after turret

and we'll go up like Joan of Arc.

- I've taken over from the chief, sir.

- Stay by me.

- McBarnett, sir.

- You take over navigation.

- Right, sir.

Pass your orders through my messenger.

- Stand by, Roper.

- Sir?

Achilles turning under smoke, sir.

She's firing at Achilles with her 5.9s now.

Yeah.

And straddling us with her 11-inch.

Throw her off to starboard for a couple

of minutes, then come back to port again.

That ought to throw her gunnery out.

- All right, Pilot, starboard 15!

- Starboard 15!

Bridge GCT.

Bridge GCT.

- Where did it get you, Mr Watts?

- My legs. It's in my legs.

Bridge GCT.

- Now, sir, the other leg.

- That one's all right.

It isn't. There's a hole right through it.

Good Lord! I never noticed that.

Gunnery Control Tower out of action, sir.

No, we're not!

Control Bridge. Tell the Captain

we're regaining control.

Please send first-aid parties.

- Come on, Richard.

- Eh?

- Running repairs.

- What? Oh.

Come on. Come on.

"A" turret's ceased firing, sir.

What about the after turret?

She's still firing.

- Jennings is directing the fire standing on top.

- Good.

Enemy coming straight for us, sir.

Port 20!

- Port 20.

- Port 20.

Port 20.

Port 20.

- Midships.

- Midships.

Midships.

- Steady.

- Steady.

Steady.

Steady.

- It nearly drowned us, sir.

- Yes, but at least we won't fry.

You should have worn your hat.

Observer to Achilles. You're falling short.

What's wrong with your sights?

You, Shaw, are you all right?

Shaw!

Archie's had it, sir.

Rogers, take over Shaw's job.

The after turret's ceased firing, sir.

- You sent for me, sir?

- How are things down below?

- Engines and boilers still intact, sir.

- More than we are.

Enemy closing in rapidly, sir.

Not a gun or a torpedo left.

Exeter altering course to starboard, sir.

- Listing to starboard.

- She's out of control.

What's our range?

- 16,000.

- In we go, Woodie!

To hell with battle instructions.

We've got to draw his fire off Exeter.

- At this range, we might as well

bombard the beast with snowballs.

- Aye-aye, sir.

Straight for her, Pilot.

Port 20.

Make to Achilles, "Speed 30 knots."

George 30.

Flag deck hoist George 30.

- What's the range now?

- 132, sir.

Tell the chief to speak.

She's closing in to finish Exeter.

Come on, Woodie. I must have utmost speed.

Chief, give us all you've got.

She means to finish us off.

Well, Bobby, there's only one thing left.

If she gives us half a chance,

I shall try and ram the beggar.

- Yes, sir.

- It'll be the end of us,

but it means the end of her also,

and that's all that matters.

Range down to 10,000 yards now, sir.

Right. Now, give her the lot!

- Hard to starboard.

- Hard to starboard.

Midships.

Steady.

Ah.

- Middle.

- Hard.

- Yeah! Hit midships.

- Take that, you beast.

- A hit!

- A hit on the superstructure.

A hit again!

Well done, Rogers.

Easy, sir. I run a coconut shy back home.

Well, get stuck in and do it again.

A direct hit on our 5.9.

Ha, ha!

What price snowballs now?

- We've done it. She's altering course.

- Keep after her.

Well done, Guns.

Her firing's getting ragged, Woodie.

We must be hurting...

Captain, sir.

"X" turret out of action, sir.

"Y" turret jammed. We're working on it.

- All right, Guns.

- You've still got two left.

Captain, sir. From "X" turret.

Fire in ammunition hoist.

- See if it's under control.

- Aye-aye, sir.

- Captain, sir.

- Yes, Guns?

We've fired nearly 1,200 rounds, sir.

About one third of the outfit only remaining.

Thank you.

Are you all right?

There are a few new ventilation gaps here, sir.

A bit draughty. Otherwise, all right, sir.

Time?

07:
40, sir.

We must open the range, Woodie.

Turn stern onto her and make smoke.

Starboard 30. Make smoke.

Starboard 30!

- From Exeter, sir.

- What?

"All guns out of action.

We are still seaworthy."

07:
32.

She must be in a pretty grim condition.

I wonder if she can make the Falklands.

Captain, sir. Captain, sir!

- Yes?

- We've got four torpedoes left in port tubes.

Fire 'em if you get a chance.

Right, sir.

A message from the commodore, sir.

The commodore asks,

can we reach the Falklands?

Reply.

"Can reach Plymouth, if ordered."

- Yeoman.

- Sir?

Add...

"Request permission

to revise list of spares."

"Revise list of spares."

Hookie Bell.

Well, if anybody can make it, he will.

Signal.

"Proceed Falklands.

Godspeed."

Aye-aye, sir.

Do you think it's all over?

No firing for a quarter of an hour.

- More like half an hour.

- I checked it on my watch.

I wonder what made us put our caps on.

- Yes, you're right.

- Added protection.

By Jove, I'd give anything to know.

Do you think our ships are sunk?

- Not likely.

- We shouldn't be hurrying like this if they were.

What's she going to do, eh?

She's not turning after us, anyway.

We'll keep on shadowing her

from either quarter.

I'm starving.

You wouldn't go and see if there's any food?

- Why don't you do it, Ralph?

- What? In my condition?

All right.

Anybody hurt?

Tony of Tairoa is dead.

There's a bleeding great hole in the roof. Look!

- Only scratches here.

- Seems all right.

Well, that's the luckiest thing ever.

It must have struck the deck beam.

But for that beam, we'd have had it.

Who said the Graf Spee had sunk our ships?

We're right on her tail!

You mean, they're right on our tail.

My soul is out there with the boys.

- I wish I was.

- I'm going to take a look. Give me a hand.

You did order toast, didn't you, madam?

- All right, Dove? What can you see, Dove?

- What can you see?

That was the forward turret.

She's not done yet.

That means "Keep off the grass."

- Better do a bit of altering course, sir.

- Yes.

- Starboard 10.

- Starboard 10.

And be ready to close in and finish her

when the light fails.

Keep her between us and the afterglow.

She'll be silhouetted against the western sky.

We'll be in the cover of the dark.

Do you hear that?

They're moving in for the kill.

Do you think you can get that light going?

No.

The cable aft must be cut.

What about the Christmas decorations?

There are some paper lanterns among them.

Has anybody got a match?

Should we use them now or save them till later?

We might not need them later.

I'm lighting this one to my guardian angel.

- She's easing down, boys.

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Michael Powell

Michael Latham Powell (30 September 1905 – 19 February 1990) was an English film director, celebrated for his partnership with Emeric Pressburger. Through their production company "The Archers", they together wrote, produced and directed a series of classic British films, notably 49th Parallel (1941), The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943), A Matter of Life and Death (1946, also called Stairway to Heaven), Black Narcissus (1947), The Red Shoes (1948), and The Tales of Hoffmann (1951). His later controversial 1960 film Peeping Tom, while today considered a classic, and a contender as the first "slasher", was so vilified on first release that his career was seriously damaged.Many film-makers such as Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola and George A. Romero have cited Powell as an influence. In 1981, he received the BAFTA Academy Fellowship Award along with his partner Pressburger, the highest honour the British Film Academy can give a filmmaker. more…

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