In Dead Man's Bay

Able Seaman Thomas Morris had one more month of submarine service in Britain's Navy. His wife had the days marked on a calendar. Last summer when the Poseidon sank off the coast of China with 20 men, Able Seaman Morris saved himself by jumping over the side as she went down. Last week he was aboard the M-2 off the Bill of Portland in that part of the English Channel known as "Dead Man's Bay" because of the number of ships wrecked there during the War. At 10:30 one morning the M-2 radioed H. M. S. Titania that she was going to dive. Seaman Morris helped to screw her hatches tight. Down she went and with her 60 officers & men. . . .

Late that afternoon the M-2 had not been heard from. Out from the naval depot at Gosport sped an alarm. Navy men scurried from their homes, from cinemas, from pubs, from dance halls. Minesweepers, destroyers, every available ship put out into Dead Man's Bay. Searchlights dug into the fog, were reflected back in a sickly glare. Soon after midnight trawls struck an obstruction. News was flashed to every city in Britain; everyone breathed easier. Sir Bolton Meredith Eyres Monsell. First Lord of the Admiralty, ordered divers down at daybreak.

Long before they reached the surface again they had signalled failure. Planes went aloft, could see nothing. The sea grew rougher. Minesweepers moved back and forth, touched something, found it was a wreck. All that day and night the search went on. All day, all night, news was flashed to the cities of Britain. Sir Bolton sent a telegram to wives of married members of the crew: "We regret to inform you that your husband is missing and is feared drowned. . . ." Thomas Morris' wife read her telegram, waited at the post office for another.

Next morning a Captain Howard of the steamer Tynesider reported from France that he had seen the M-2 go down five miles west of the spot where the searchers worked. Off rushed the minesweepers. divers, planes, the M-2's sister ship M-3 to the new spot. Trawls struck an object, lost it. A sound was heard, like tappings, but proved to be the noise of a sweeper. Two flags that had belonged to the M-2 were brought up before the lines parted. The seas grew heavier, slapped against the sides of the searching ships, but below the surface there was no sound. The 48 hours of air and life in the M-2 were up. Sir Bolton bowed his head and signed a telegram. "There is no hope now of saving life." Mrs. Morris received her telegram. It was condolences from her King & Queen.

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