8
SETTER was at periscope depth and Olsen had the watch still. The course was north-west; they’d hold it until midday and then come around to due east so that when they surfaced that evening they’d be on the eastern edge of their waiting area, with a few miles start for the run-in to the coast.
At the after end of the Control Room, Wyllie, the signalman, squatted on the deck sewing one edge of a sheet of canvas onto a length of hemp rope. This was to be the screen for the Ladies’ Boudoir, which was the new name for the Petty Officers’ mess. The ship’s company had taken cheerfully to the idea of their unusual passengers: it would mean overcrowding in spaces which were already used to the limit, but it would also be something new, a change, and therefore pleasing. Patrols were all too freq
