me at this moment? I must! I must! There was no other way.
I dropped back below. "Ask Olson to step down here, please,"
I requested; "and don't let anyone see you ask him."

She looked at me with a puzzled expression on her face for the
barest fraction of a second, and then she turned and went up
the ladder. A moment later Olson returned, and the girl
followed him. "Quick!" I whispered to the big Irishman, and
made for the bow compartment where the torpedo-tubes are built
into the boat; here, too, were the torpedoes. The girl
accompanied us, and when she saw the thing I had in mind,
she stepped forward and lent a hand to the swinging of the
great cylinder of death and destruction into the mouth of
its tube. With oil and main strength we shoved the torpedo
home and shut the tube; then I ran back to the conning-tower,
praying in my heart of hearts that the U-33 had not swung her
bow away from the prey. No, thank God!

Never could aim have been truer. I signaled back to Olson:
"Let 'er go!" The U-33 trembled from stem to stern as the torpedo
shot from its tube. I saw the white wake leap from her bow straight
toward the enemy cruiser. A chorus of hoarse yells arose from the
deck of our own craft: I saw the officers stand suddenly erect in
the boat that was approaching us, and I heard loud cries and
curses from the raider. Then I turned my attention to my
own business. Most of the men on the submarine's deck were
standing in paralyzed fascination, staring at the torpedo.
Bradley happened to be looking toward the conning-tower and
saw me. I sprang on deck and ran toward him. "Quick!" I whispered.
"While they are stunned, we must overcome them."