Free Landfall by Nevil Shute

thought better of it. Instead, he said to the pilot:
    “Was the notice that you saw intelligible to you, Mr. Chambers?”
    The flying-officer hesitated. “I understood that no attacks were to be made in certain areas at certain times,” he said. “I didn’t know why.”
    The commander from the submarine depot leaned forward. “You didn’t know that one of our submarines was coming in, then?” he said kindly.
    The boy turned to him gratefully: “No, sir. I didn’t know that.”
    There was a tense, pregnant silence for a few moments. Then Captain Burnaby said: “Well, the Court of Enquiry will go into that, no doubt.”
    He picked up another paper from the table. “The signal from T.383 gives 1541 as the time of the attack, in Area SM/TM.”
    Chambers interposed. “It was definitely in Area SM, sir.”
    “That is what I want to hear about next, Mr. Chambers. If she was in Area SM you were clearly within your rights in attacking, subject to reasonable care. In Area TM you could not attack at all.”
    The boy said: “No, sir. But she was in Area SM all right.”
    The naval captain eyed him keenly. “How did you establish that?”
    “I set out the course and distance run from my last known position, on the chart, sir. She was a good two miles inside Area SM.”
    “Have you got the chart here?”
    “I’m afraid not, sir.”
    The sour-faced young lieutenant-commander spoke up. “How far away was your last-known position?”
    The pilot turned to him. “I made it about twenty-six sea miles.”
    Lieutenant-Commander Dale raised his eyebrows slightly higher. “Two miles drift wouldn’t be much of an error in the sort of navigation that you do, would it? I don’t see how you can be so sure about the area.”
    Chambers said: “I wasn’t two miles out.”
    Dale shrugged his shoulders. “The trawler doesn’t seem to be so certain, or she wouldn’t have signalled Area SM/TM.”
    Burnaby turned to the pilot. “I take it that you plotted the position carefully upon the chart?”
    The boy hesitated awkwardly. The three naval officers sat staring at him. At last he said: “I didn’t pencil the position in. You can’t do that when you’re flying the machine.”
    The captain said: “I understand you have a second pilot.”
    “I hadn’t got a second pilot today, sir. He’d gone sick.”
    Lieutenant-Commander Dale spoke up again. “How did you do the chart work, then, if you couldn’t leave the helm?”
    “I had the chart on the seat beside me. I laid off the course and distance run with a parallel ruler.”
    The young naval officer’s upper lip curled slightly. “Working with one hand?”
    “Yes.”
    Dale turned to Captain Burnaby. “I don’t see any proof of the position here, sir,” he said sourly. “You might be anywhere, working like that.”
    The captain said: “I quite agree with you.”
    There was an awkward silence. The pilot stared at the glass ash-tray on the green-baize tablecloth flushed and miserable. He began to feel that they were all hostile to him; their minds were made up. He knew his navigation methods hadn’t been according to the book, but he had faith in his position. He was used to rapid chart work under difficulties.
    He tried to explain to them. He said: “I really don’t think I was two miles out in the position, sir. I made decent landfalls all through the patrol.”
    The young lieutenant-commander raised bored eyebrows slightly higher. Rutherford, from Fort Blockhouse nodded, but said nothing.
    Captain Burnaby said: “Well, the trawler buoyed the place, so we shall know before long where it actually happened. Now, Mr. Chambers, will you tell us just what occurred, from the time when you first saw the submarine until the moment when she sank.”
    The boy said: “I saw her first about two miles away. It was beginning to get dark. I couldn’t make out anydetail—just that there was a submarine there. Then I went straight up into the cloud.”
    They sat staring at him,