“Yes, we’re still rolling,” Summer replied. “Jack, can you move us a little closer to the impact?” she asked, staring intently out the view port.
Dahlgren tweaked the propulsion controls until they hovered just a foot or two from the gouged section of hull.
“Something in particular catch your eye?” Julie asked.
“Yes. Take a look at the blast edge.”
Julie scanned the jagged rust-covered steel without comprehension. In the pilot’s seat, Dahlgren’s eyes suddenly widened.
“I’ll be. The lip of that mangled steel looks to be shoved outward,” he said.
“Appears to be the case around the entire perimeter,” Summer said.
Julie looked from Dahlgren to Summer in confusion.
“What are you saying?” she finally asked.
“I think she’s saying that the Germans got a bum rap,” Dahlgren replied.
“How so?”
“Because,” Summer said, pointing to the hole, “the blast that sank the Hampshire appears to have come from inside the ship.”
NINETY MINUTES LATER, the trio sat in the wardroom of the Odin reviewing video footage of the Hampshire on a large flat-screen monitor. Dahlgren sped through the wreck’s initial footage, then slowed the viewing speed as the camera approached the port-side hole. Julie and Summer sat alongside with their noses to the screen, carefully studying the images.
“Stop right there,” Summer directed.
Dahlgren froze the video on a close-up image of the shattered hull plate.
“That view shows it quite clearly,” Summer said, pointing to the serrated steel edge that flared out like flower petals. “The force of the blast that created that had to come from within the ship.”
“Could it have been caused by Zaharoff’s salvage team?” Julie asked.
“Not likely,” Dahlgren replied. “Though they probably made use of explosives here and there, they probably cut their way into the interior spaces they were seeking. They would have had no reason to create such a massive entry point, especially this close to the main deck.” He hit the “Play” button on the video controls as he spoke. “We saw evidence of an internal explosion all around the opening, which wouldn’t be the case if Zaharoff had just tried to enlarge the existing hole.”
“How about an internal munitions explosion that might have been triggered by a mine or torpedo attack?” Summer asked.
“Not big enough,” Dahlgren replied. “From what we could view inside, there was plenty of internal damage, but it was all focused near the hull. If the ship’s munitions had gone off, it would have blown away major sections of the ship.”
“Then that leaves an internal explosion,” Julie said. “Perhaps there is something to the old rumors after all.”
“What rumors would those be?” Summer asked.
“The death of Lord Kitchener in 1916 was a momentous event. He had been the hero of Khartoum in the Sudan two decades earlier and was considered a key architect for the eventual defeat of Germany in World War One. Of course, he may have been best known for his iconic recruiting poster, which displayed his image pointing an outstretched finger, urging you to join the Army. When his body was never found, wild conspiracy theories took root, suggesting that he had survived the sinking or that a double had been sailing in his place. Others claimed that the IRA had planted a bomb aboard the ship when it was overhauled in Belfast a few months earlier.”
“I guess this throws a new wrench into your biography,” Summer remarked.
“Is that why you wanted to survey the Hampshire, because of Kitchener?” Dahlgren asked.
Julie nodded. “Documenting the state of the Hampshire was actually suggested by my dean, but the driving force was certainly my biography of the field marshal. I guess I’ll have to return to Kitchener’s old estate near Canterbury and take another look at his archives.”
“Canterbury?” Summer asked. “That’s not too far from London, is it?”
“No, less than a hundred miles.”
“London is my next stop after we return to Yarmouth.”
“Yarmouth is our next port of call after we drop you at Kirk-wall,” Dahlgren explained to Julie. “We’re going to resupply there, then some of us are headed to Greenland for another project,” he added, giving Summer an envious look.