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August 11, 1914. Debris field of the former HMCS Rainbow.

As the fog burned off under the heat of the mid-afternoon sun, the carnage from that morning’s engagement could finally be appreciated to it’s fullest. By this point, the debris field had significantly widened in its scope due to the aggressive tide in the vicinity to the islands, sending the variety of wooden splinters and other refuse scattered in every direction. The German boat crews breathed a collective sigh of relief as they received their orders to return to the ship, a solemn morning of fishing both the dead and living from the water had taken a toll both physically and mentally. All hands fantasized about being granted shore leave throughout the bustling city of San Francisco, resting in the shade of the tall trees and drinking in the sights. On the far edge of the debris field though, the shredded remains of a capsized ships boat bobbed in the surf.

“Hey!”

The voice of a man cut through the darkness as Commander Hose forced open his salt stained eyes.

“Hello! Is anybody alive over there?”

A constant throbbing pain made his vision cloudy as Hose attempted to orientate himself. A small wave came crashing into him, causing him to blink hard and sputter from the spray. The disembodied voice repeated its call a few more times before Hose finally realized what was happening. His mind kicked back into gear as the words and what they implied set in.

‘English, that lad screaming is English!’

The officer struggled to rouse his body, but it was no good. He had wrapped one arm through some stray rope and tied it off to the bottom of a flipped boat, likely in an effort to keep his head out of water before he lost consciousness. The extremities below his waist bobbed numbly in the water below him, his tied off arm equally numb as well. Lying up on the keel of the boat was the young man Hose had plucked from the deck of Rainbow hours before. His breathing looked almost indistinguishable from the bobbing of the boat but he also lay unresponsive to the cries of the unknown man. This could very well be a friendly rescue party! Hose found his body to be limp and unresponsive, so with no other option, he cleared his throat and let out a reply of his own. What was supposed to be something along the lines of “Help!” turned into a garbled and pained groaning. Regardless, it seemed to have the same effect. Slowly but surely, voices became more audible in the distance and from around the mass of the boat, Hose saw the flutter of oars and a small funnel reaching upwards into the sky.

“It’s the Commander and he looks to be alive!”

The men bickered between each other for a few minutes about how to untangle the officer and get him aboard, they resorted to chopping the rope holding his arm with an axe while simultaneously rolling him aboard their boat. It was not the gentlest maneuver, but it got the job done. Being aboard something solid again was reassuring. The small steam launch was crowded with men, Hose looked to be the eight man huddled into the small boat from what he could see. One of the men was sleeping in the bow, his head partially covered by a large makeshift bandage. The rest of the crew each wore smaller bandages on different parts of their bodies but as of now, it looked like most of them were in fairly good shape. The highest-ranking man aboard before himself was a Leading Seaman, currently in the process of stripping the bottoms of Hose’s shredded uniform away and applying coverings to his gouged extremities. Hose’s gaze was fixed on the crew as they brought the young man aboard as well, laying him beside the other sleeping man before diligently tend to him.

“It’s a pleasure to find you sir.” The Leading Seamen said, “There seems to be shrapnel still in your legs and feet, but the bleeding should be kept under control by these dressings.”

Hose let out a hoarse cough, “Status report.”

“Well sir, me and another man swam to the boat when we saw it half floating around the wreckage. We drained the water out the best we could and slowly rowed her around looking for more survivors. We were just making our way away from the area once the German search parties finally left when we stumbled upon you.”

“Is the engine not working?”

The Leading Seaman scratched the back of his head nervously, “We’ve taken the engine apart twice now but no luck. There is not any major damage besides some water ingress, splinters in the funnel and a large dent in the side of the casing. We think the pistons are sticking.”

“Did you try hitting it with a hammer?”

A confused look came across the face of the Leading Seamen as he glanced over at the engine and back again, “Excuse me sir?”

“Did you hit the engine with the hammer that’s lying around here somewhere? Right pest this boat has been since the day we got her. I requested a boat for my own personal use when I transferred aboard Rainbow and they sent me this second hand junker that came off as Fisheries Patrol vessel. The pistons in the engine stick whenever you try and turn her on, the Petty Officer always had to pound away on the side with a hammer to get her going.”

One of the other sailors started to build up the steam pressure and the Leading Seamen took up position alongside the engine casing. With three mighty blows from the hammer, the engine began to sputter and vibrate but kept on chugging nonetheless. Careful coaxing by the men brought the incessant sputtering down to a harmonious rhythm as slowly but surely, the launch began to move forward.

The Leading Seamen slid himself behind the wheel and began to bring her about, “Commander, what’s our next plan of action?”

Hose stared grimly ahead as the sailor treating the young boy stepped back, slowly removed his uniform jacket and draping it over the body of the youngster.

“Bring us alongside the coastline and follow it North. We should have enough fuel to get out of the area before the Germans return or any American rescue units arrive. Being held captive in the hold of a German ship or some US Navy stockade isn’t especially fitting, we need to try and make our way back to Canada and report on our situation.”

Somewhere off into the foggy distance, the unmistakable crack of naval gunfire reverberated.

“It seems the Germans are busy as of now, let us make haste.”