Battle of the River Plate, The Page #3

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- Heraus.

Zu Befehl.

Die Koffer da.

- Ach, das is schwer.

- Das kannst du mal wieder sagen.

I really ought to be in my own uniform

to meet the boys.

Hier. Hier.

Liverpool.

Hull.

Cardiff.

Hier! This way.

Newcastle.

I say. They had more time to pack than I had.

- Come on. Stop shoving.

- Newton Beech first. Come on, lads.

- Quick. Grab one of the corners.

- Come on. Corners are cosy.

Come on. Newton Beech over here.

Trevanion, over here.

- Huntsman. Where's the Huntsman?

- We're right here.

- Where's Trevanion? Trevanion?

- Over here.

- Captain.

- All Tairoa around this table.

Good evening, Captain.

- Why, you're one of us.

- I thought you were a Jerry.

No, I'm Dove, Africa Shell.

- Glory be. A new face.

- When were you sunk?

November 15th.

Indian Ocean.

- Any others with you?

- I was the last they sunk. They only took me.

Not a kill for nearly three weeks.

She must be getting hungry.

- How have they treated you?

- Quite all right.

- How's the captain?

- What's the old man like?

Fine. Fine. He's a gentleman.

Not like our fellow Dau on the Altmark.

- He was a proper swine, a real...

- It was a ficating ruddy hell.

Our men like cattle in the hold.

Just four walls and a stinking bucket.

- Yeah.

- Auf Wiedersehen.

Auf Wiedersehen.

Raus.

This is going to be no pleasure cruise, either.

Hello?

Well, that's a bit of luck.

The chippy's left the screw holes unstopped.

Very thoughtful of him.

You know, when I was all alone,

I fancied company.

Now, I'm not so sure!

She's moving, boys!

Yes, yes. She's under way.

- Well, who are you all?

- Let's have a muster.

- Huntsman.

- Newton Beech.

- Ashlea.

- Tairoa.

Trevanion.

All present and correct.

Africa Shell.

Who's next?

If only we could get out of here!

- Shut up!

- Yes, shut your great big mouth.

Rats in a trap. That's what we are. Rats in a trap!

- Some rat!

- Hey, now. Don't start any trouble.

Shut up, everybody.

- Here comes old Zoonk.

- Now we'll know who's been bumped this time.

Gentlemen, the fight is finished.

Fight? What fight?

- We have zoonk her.

- Sunk her.

Nicht, nicht, nicht. Doric Star kaputt.

- That's old Stubbs.

- The Doric Star's a perishing mid boat.

We might get a good feed out of this.

- She only had a four-inch mounted aft.

- Poor old Stubbs.

- Wait till the Navy finds you.

- We wait.

- I hope you picked up the crew.

- You shelled her long enough.

- Soon you have lots more friends here.

- Where will they put them?

Oh, plenty room here.

Ja, ja. Plenty room here.

Weggehen!

Herein! Kommen Sie. This way, please.

Welcome aboard, Captain.

I'm Dove, Africa Shell.

- I'm Stubbs. Doric Star.

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