Two other facts stood out, that he had been writing a letter to his parents, but had been awakened by the clamour of alarm bells. He jumped to his feet, his mind still refusing to grasp what was happening. He was in his day cabin, his jacket hanging on a chair, an empty coffee cup nearby. Normally the sound of those alarm bells would have brought him to instant readiness and it was likely he would have been in his tiny sea-cabin, or dozing in the steel chair on the bridge. The telephone buzzed through the din of bells and running feet with the attendant slamming of watertight doors. It was Theil. 'Red Alert, sir. Air attack.' Hechler slammed down the handset and snatched his jacket and cap even as Pirk scampered past him to screw the steel deadlights over the scuttles. On deck the ship seemed deserted, and only abandoned brooms and paint brushes marked the sudden alarm. He climbed swiftly to the upper bridge, aware that the antiaircraft guns were already traversing towards the land, and men were putting on helmets and dragging belts of ammunition to the short-range weapons.
