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diff --git a/26474-h/26474-h.htm b/26474-h/26474-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..13419f2 --- /dev/null +++ b/26474-h/26474-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3526 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Some Naval Yarns, by Mordaunt Hall + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2,hr {clear: both;} + h2 {margin-top: 2em; font-weight: normal;} + hr {width: 65%; margin: 2em auto;} + table {margin: 1em auto;} + .td1 {text-align: left; padding-right: 6em; padding-left: 1em;} + .td2 {text-align: right;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: small; font-style: normal; text-align: right; text-indent: 0em;} + .ctr,.p1,.p2,h1,h2 {text-align: center;} + .smcap,.td1 {font-variant: small-caps;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + a:link, a:visited {text-decoration: none;} + .p1,h2 {margin-bottom: 2em;} + .p2 {margin-top: 4em; font-size: x-large; line-height: 1.4;} + .fsm {font-size: medium;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Some Naval Yarns, by Mordaunt Hall + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Some Naval Yarns + +Author: Mordaunt Hall + +Contributor: Ethel Beatty + +Release Date: August 29, 2008 [EBook #26474] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOME NAVAL YARNS *** + + + + +Produced by Stephen Blundell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1><big>SOME NAVAL<br /> +YARNS</big></h1> + +<h2><b><small>BY</small><br /> +MORDAUNT HALL</b></h2> + +<p class="p1"><b>WITH A PREFACE BY<br /> +<big>LADY BEATTY</big></b></p> + +<p class="p2"><b>NEW YORK<br /> +GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY<br /> +<span class="fsm">PUBLISHERS IN AMERICA FOR HODDER & STOUGHTON</span><br /> +MCMXVII</b></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="p1"><small>COPYRIGHT, 1917,<br /> +BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</small></p> + +<p class="ctr"><small>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</small></p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">A book</span> containing accounts of the work continually +and unceasingly being carried on by the +gallant officers and men of the Royal Navy +should prove of considerable interest to all, and, +at the present time, especially to the American +reader. I am glad that a New York journalist +has had the opportunity of witnessing a part of +the titanic task of our courageous sea-fighters, and +of personally gaining an idea of the hardships +endured by the plucky men who are watching +our coast. This little book may help considerably +to enlighten the general public on the work +of the branches of the Navy, and prove that the +men engaged in this tedious, hazardous, and +nerve-racking vigil are going about it with the +same old valour befitting the traditions of the +Royal Navy. They have fought the savage +beasts like true sportsmen. They have rescued +enemy sailors, clothed and fed them, without a +sign of animus, knowing that victory will crown +their efforts to throttle the enemy of humanity +and of civilisation. And that enemy is now the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span> +common foe of the United States as well as of +England. He has been the sly enemy of the +United States even before the declaration of +hostilities by the American Congress, while he +was the avowed enemy of other countries engaged +in this terrible war.</p> + +<p>These stories, light though they be, give a +conception of what it is to search the seas in a +submarine, and the bravery of the youngest +branch of the Navy—the Royal Naval Air +Service—is palpable even from the modest accounts +given by these seaplane pilots. They have +confidence in their supremacy over the enemy, +and are all smiles even in the face of imminent +danger. It shows that often British coolness and +pluck have saved a machine as well as the lives +of men.</p> + +<p>Of special interest is the talk with the captain +of a mine-sweeper while he is on the bridge of +his vessel. He tells of the many neutral lives +that have been saved by English seamen at the +risk of their own vessels and the lives of their +crews. Noteworthy is it that Great Britain in +the course of this war has not been the cause of +the loss of a single neutral life. Mines have been +placed at random by Germany's pirate craft.</p> + +<p>The grit of the English seaman comes to light<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span> +in the author's journey in a naval ambulance +train, as does also the fact that the service takes +the utmost care of its wounded and sick. In the +account of the Royal Naval Division it is touching +to note that the men who are fighting in +France and who distinguished themselves so valiantly +in the Ancre and other battles, still cling +to sea terms or talk.</p> + +<p>The accounts in this volume may cause the +people of my native country to appreciate the +necessity for silence on the part of the British +Admiralty, as now that their ships are linked +with ours in the effort to defeat a common enemy +the same idea of giving no information to the +enemy even at the cost of criticism undoubtedly +will be included in orders. Nevertheless, while +playing the trump of silence, it is encouraging to +read stories of the Navy so that the readers have +certain knowledge that silence and brief reports +do not mean that nothing is being accomplished. +We have recently had an instance of the efficiency +and courage of the officers and men in the +fight between two British destroyers and half a +dozen of the enemy craft, in which the Germans +lost two vessels and the British none. Commanders +and others greatly distinguished themselves +in this conflict, which occurred in the dead<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span> +of a moonless night. And the deeds of the +Royal Navy are certain to be emulated by the +officers and men of the United States Navy, for +blood will tell.</p> + +<p class="td2"><span class="smcap">Ethel Beatty.</span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class='ctr'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="3"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><span class="smcap">Preface</span></td><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a href="#Page_v">v</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">I.</td><td class="td1">The Log of a Naval Airman</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">II.</td><td class="td1">Over the North Sea in a Seaplane</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">III.</td><td class="td1">Adventures in a Seaplane</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">IV.</td><td class="td1">Sweeping the Seas for Mines</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">V.</td><td class="td1">The Royal Naval Division</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">VI.</td><td class="td1">A Naval School</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">VII.</td><td class="td1">"Gentlemen, 'The King'"</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">VIII.</td><td class="td1">The Royal Naval Ambulance Train</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">IX.</td><td class="td1">A Run in a Royal Naval Ambulance Train</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">X.</td><td class="td1">A Trip in a Submarine</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">XI.</td><td class="td1">Life in a Lighthouse</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">XII.</td><td class="td1">Watchers of the Coast</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">XIII.</td><td class="td1">Crossing the Channel in War Time</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr /> +<h1>SOME NAVAL YARNS</h1> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h1>SOME NAVAL YARNS</h1> + +<h2>I. THE LOG OF A NAVAL AIRMAN</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Men</span> of the British services are exasperatingly +modest. You are forced to wring stories of experiences +from them, and when you are thrilled +to the core over their yarns they coolly inform +you that their names must not appear. Fortunately, +there is something about a story which +"rings true." From one of the soundest pilots +of the Royal Naval Air Service I heard his experience +of the previous day. We will call him +"Q," as he happens to be known in the station. It +is his middle initial. He is a tall, well-built man +of thirty, who knows a seaplane backwards, and +it has been woe to the enemy when he met him.</p> + +<p>"We started at dawn," he began. "There's +not much flying in the dark, only occasionally. +First, we ran the machine out of the hangar, and, +as usual, tried the engines. In the fading darkness +or growing light it is a great sight to see the +flames flashing from the exhaust. In the beginning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +you run your engines slowly. Yesterday +one of them kicked a bit. The cause for the +hitch was discovered, and they were once more +started. Remember that it is expedient that the +engines be thoroughly tested before a flight, as +you may spend anxious hours if something goes +wrong. The spluttering ended, and we ran them +up to full speed. This done, we waited for more +light before hauling the machine down to the +water. Once the seaplane was water-born, we +taxied ourselves across the port at moderate +speed. As we rose in the air we had to be careful +of the masts of the ships in the harbour, especially +as it was foggy. We then opened up the +engines, and the seaplane rose. It was very thick, +so we kept 300 feet above the water, flying on a +course. There were two pilots and an observer +in the machine. Our next work was to estimate +the velocity of the wind. This is always rather +difficult, and, at the same time, it is most important +to have an accurate estimate of the wind. +We steered ahead, hoping to see a mark which +would guide the observer in his course; but because +of the fog, we were not able to pick up our +mark. Hence we had to go on and hope for the +best.</p> + +<p>"We flew higher, about 1,500 feet, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +clouds were about 800 feet, so we were far above +them. For two and a half hours we steered +straight ahead on the lonely fog-covered sea. +We were to meet some warships which expected +us. But even after covering all that distance, we +saw nothing at all, and therefore resolved to descend +and see what prospects there were of 'landing' +and saving our engines. The sea always +appears calm to the man flying above it; and +even when we were 30 feet only above the water +we could not tell whether or no it would be dangerous +to the machine to 'land.'</p> + +<p>"By that time we were naturally anxious, as +we thought that in steering straight ahead, as we +had done, we ought to have reached the ships +with which we had the rendezvous. So far as +we could, with the roar of the wind and the propeller, +we held a consultation—nothing verbose—in +mid-air to determine what would be the best +move. We decided to alter our course so as to be +sure of getting in sight of land. Half an hour +later we saw the first sign of life since we had +been out—an old tramp steamship. Ten minutes +after we sighted land. When you are flying at +sea the land, especially when it is low-lying, +takes you by surprise; it suddenly looms up when +you least expect it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We then picked up a mark and set off on our +course for the rendezvous. So dense was the +mist that we could not see more than one and a +half miles ahead. However, we raced along at +70 knots on our new course, and in twenty minutes +came in sight of the flotilla of warships +spread out below in fan-like form, but all moving +fast. These ships, you see, keep on the move; +but they stay for the time being near the point +selected for the meeting. Instructions were signalled +to us, and we came up, and flew nearer +and nearer the water.</p> + +<p>"'Can we land?' was our first question. 'Land' +is always used by a seaplane pilot even if there +is no land within a hundred miles of him. Our +aerial had been thrown out. It was too rough to +go on the water—or, at least, not worth risking +damage to the seaplane. We carried on our conversation +partly by shouting and partly by signals, +which were quickly understood. From the +ships we received further instructions, and sped +on to carry them out. We had no further difficulties, +and reached home just before sunset."</p> + +<p>As an illustration of modern warfare, and the +fact that single British flyers are feared even +by two of the enemy's planes, here is a story told +by a young Englishman, who knows no nerves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +when he is in the air, no matter how near he +comes to being snuffed out by the shrapnel and +bullets. He is a man of 5 feet 10 inches, with +clear blue eyes and blond hair—one of those +truth-loving Britishers who prefers to err against +himself in his reports rather than tell of an uncertainty +as a certainty.</p> + +<p>"'Saw and attacked a German submarine, +which dived before we could close in on her,'" +read this man from a log-book. He turned the +pages, and a little afterwards came on this:—</p> + +<p>"'Sighted German patrol, and exchanged fire. +Got over Zeebrugge——'</p> + +<p>"That reminds me," he said, looking up from +the little book which held the notes of so many +exciting events. "They sent me out then when +I ought to have been off duty."</p> + +<p>He smiled, as did his hearers.</p> + +<p>"Well, I got over the Mohl," he added. +"That's the German pier at Zeebrugge. The +Mohl showed up black, and the water looked +lighter in the darkness. I was up about 2,500 +feet, and dropped bombs on the seaplane base. +I mean, of course, the German air base. Only +a few moments, and they showed that they were +ready for me, as the heavens around were lighted +up with searchlights. I dropped a few more of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +my 'eggs,' and could not be certain of what damage +I accomplished, although I saw flames spurt +up from several places. Then the enemy sent +up two long rows of rockets, making an avenue +of light so that I could have read by it. These +infernal things parachute when they get to a certain +height and, with the fire hanging from them, +stay stationary, leaving but one exit. If I had +run the machine into the rockets it would have +been ablaze in no time. These fireworks stay in +the air for about two minutes, which is a devil of +a long time when you are up there. Thanks to +this lighted avenue, I showed up more distinctly +than I would have done in the daytime. The +end of the avenue, I knew, was the target of their +anti-aircraft gunnery. I flew out, and shrapnel +tore all around me. My machine was struck several +times, and, as bad luck would have it, the +patent point of my magneto fell out just when I +got to the spot where shrapnel was thickest.</p> + +<p>"My chances of getting home then seemed +pretty slim—engines out of order, lit up by fireworks, +up 2,500 feet, and a target clear as a pikestaff +for the gunnery. However, I managed to +slide in the direction of the ship on the French +coast. It seems easy to keep out of the way of the +guns; but, of course, they have a demoralising<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +effect on a man in the air. Not so much at dark +as in the day, though. Well, I got home all +right.</p> + +<p>"Only a day or so afterwards I dropped a +bomb on or near a German U-boat, and I can't +say to this day whether I struck or damaged her.</p> + +<p>"'Very lonely,'" murmured the pilot, reading +from his log. "'Just saw a torpedo boat.' On the +next day, let's see.... Oh, yes.... 'Saw two +German destroyers, and raced back to our ship, +and British ships sped after the Germans.'</p> + +<p>"A day or so later I had run in with two +German machines. It chanced that there was a +wind blowing about 30 knots, and I was merely +out scouting, and did not carry a gun. The two +enemy ships were joined by a third, and then +they gained sufficient courage to come a bit close. +They shot away my aileron control, and we were +in a very bad way. For twenty minutes we were +continually under fire, and below there was a +heavy swell. It really was only through knowing +how scared is the enemy flyer when you go +for him that I am here to-night. I let the enemy +planes get nearer and nearer to me, and by the +time they were ready for firing I dived at one of +them. This so upset the poise of the three machines +that they turned tail and swung around<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +to come at me. They made huge circles to get on +my flanks again. All this took time, and during +it I was getting nearer and nearer my base. Now +and again the enemy machines were like too +many cooks and the broth; they nearly crashed +into each other. This also upset their nerves. +Incidentally, when you are in the air, only the +other machine appears to be moving, and you +seem perfectly still. My escape is due in part +to the arrival of one of our fighting seaplanes. +A German is desperately afraid of them, unless +there are four Germans to one Britisher. When +they saw this fighting Britisher coming they did +not take long to get away. They knew who the +flyer was, too, for a man's style in the air is always +characteristic. They had heard of this +flyer before. So they turned tail, and I got back +with a machine out of order. 'The Prussian +code of politeness,' we call it when they retire +with two or three machines against one of ours. +It is the respect that they show for our fighting +seaplanes. Of course, this does not detract from +the confidence we have in our superiority."</p> + +<p>I heard also that seaplanes have been called +upon to serve at all sorts of tasks on the dismal +briny. On one occasion a senior naval officer of +an English port received word that neutrals were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +out in boats, and that they had no water or food. +Their steamship had been torpedoed, and their +last message by wireless had been caught by the +British. The naval officer despatched a seaplane +with bread and water, and the pilot delivered it, +with other trifling necessities.</p> + +<p>One of the most beautiful sights that meets the +eye of a seaplane pilot is when he comes on the +scouting parties of British warships. They are +never at a standstill, and to keep moving and in +the same place they all make a wonderful circle +at full speed, with one vessel in the centre. That +ship is to receive the message or whatever is +brought by the seaplane, which in the event of +calm weather lands on the water and sometimes +sends off one of her officers to talk to those +aboard the vessel protected by the ring of speeding +grey warcraft.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> +<h2>II. OVER THE NORTH SEA IN A SEAPLANE</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">To</span> have an accurate conception of some of the +experiences of a seaplane pilot of the Royal +Naval Air Service, I took advantage of an opportunity +to go aloft over the North Sea.</p> + +<p>"Come with me, and we'll get you togged out +for the ride," said the gunnery lieutenant. He +was a Canadian, who had lived many years in +Rochester, N. Y., and it was he who remembered +that I would need something warmer than the +clothes I wore.</p> + +<p>In the room to which he conducted me were +many different styles of air garb. He picked +down a hat and coat of black leather, observing +that they would serve the purpose.</p> + +<p>The morning sun shed a yellowish glow on the +dancing sea, and the wind was blowing at the +rate of 32 knots. It was agreed by all that there +would be an excellent view from the aircraft as +the day was clear. By the time the gunnery lieutenant +and I reached the ways on which the great +seaplane rested, men in overalls, begrimed with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +oil and dirt, were testing the engine. As the +great propeller spun round, coats ballooned out +with the rush of air, and the noise was such that +one could hardly hear one's own efforts to shout. +It was a sound which filled you with awe. The +propeller was stopped after a few minutes, and +the mechanicians shot up the sides of the craft, +and punched oil and gasolene into the places +where it was needed. Young officers in naval +uniforms stood around the machine—all are usually +interested in a departing seaplane. Not far +from us were many immense sheds in which were +some of the newest types of England's youngest +branch of the Navy. There were aircraft there +which bespoke the inventive genius of the +Briton, and the confidence of the young pilots +inspired you with pleasure—it was a confidence +that they could beat the enemy at one to two.</p> + +<p>Presently the chief mechanician announced to +the pilot that all was well, and the man who was +to take me above the North Sea, attired in his uniform +and a thick white woollen scarf, climbed +up the seaplane's port side. He signalled to +me to follow, showing the places for me to put +my feet. The climb was more difficult than I +had imagined, and a literal <i>faux pas</i> might not +have aided the flying ability of the machine.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was no lashing the passenger to a seat +in the plane. The place in which I sat would +not have cramped three men, the pilot being in +front. There was a loose leather seat cover atop +a wooden box as the only sign of comfort.</p> + +<p>"Make the best of it," said the pilot. With +that, he turned on a switch, and the propeller +whirred a warning of departure to the clouds. +It was a parting shot to ascertain that the engines +were in trim, and after the engine had been +stopped the craft was wheeled out into the waters +of the bay, and then again the propeller rent +the air with a burring noise which is surprising +even if you are more or less prepared for it.</p> + +<p>For the first few seconds we apparently swung +along on the water's surface, then skimmed +along, the floats at the sides of the plane bobbing +on the slightly crested sea. It was only a matter of +less than a minute before I realised that we were +rising in the air between sky and water, and with +amazing speed we soared, and soon were 300 feet +in the air. Still our aircraft climbed and +climbed. The ocean, which had been beating on +the sands now outside, seemed peaceful and +green. The town which I thought had such winding +streets when I walked through them now +looked as if it had been laid out by a landscape<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +architect. Up, up we travelled, and the higher we +were the more deceptive was the North Sea.</p> + +<p>Through, or, at least, far above, the opening +to the port the pilot steered the seaplane, and +far down in the sea I saw a strip of dusky something +pushing a white speck before it. The pilot +signalled for me to look down. It was then +that I realised that this funny little thing was +a British submarine going out to sea. The pilot +bellowed something; but I could only see that +he was shouting, no sound coming to me above +the din of the propeller. We steered straight +out to sea, and miles away I saw a grey speck—a +warship prowling over the lonely depths.</p> + +<p>After listening to stories of pilots who have +been tossed on the bosom of the waters for twenty +and thirty hours, the thought of the hardships +these pilots have to undergo came vividly +to me. I thought of how I might feel if a dozen +anti-aircraft guns made us their target. Behind +us the town now had almost disappeared. The +officer kept the nose of his machine towards +France, and I thought, as we sped on, of the +young officer who had an appointment for dinner +with his fiancée, and who had descended in +the wrong territory only a week before. These +daring pilots, however, think nothing of cutting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +through the air from England to France and taking +a bomb or so with them for Zeebrugge on the +way.</p> + +<p>I began to think a great deal of my pilot. He +was about twenty-seven years old, and was cool +and certain. He was a dare-devil, and had only +been over in England a short time after spending +months on the coast near the front.</p> + +<p>The town had disappeared, and it was evident +that we were practically at the mercy of the +compass. I felt no dizziness at the great height. +In fact, I had no conception of the altitude of +the seaplane then. Perhaps I was comforted by +the whirring of the propeller, the thundering +rumble of which was increased by the stiff wind. +I looked headlong down, and experienced no +sensation of fear. I seemed to be in a solid moving +thing as stable as a machine on earth or water. +We must have been up 4,000 feet and possibly +100 miles out at sea. There was a sameness +about the travelling. You heard the roaring +blades, and saw the deceitful sea and clouds +on a line with you here and there. The pilot +turned the plane, and soon we were headed for +land. We kept at the same altitude, and after a +while beheld the shore line. The marvellous +speed of the aircraft appealed to me then, as it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +was not long before we were over the harbour +gates. At the same time, the seaplane just then +did not seem to be making any headway. From +a height of 4,000 feet the great vessels looked +like fair-sized matches. How impossible it +seemed to aim straight enough ever to hit one +of those narrow things. As we turned around +above the town in the direction of the hangars +the trembling wings appeared to waver a bit +more than usual. I looked down at the town, +and we appeared at a standstill. You can tell +sometimes when persons are looking at the planes +by a speck of white, which is a face. The earth +and sea rose nearer, for, as one does not appreciate, +the plane was descending.</p> + +<p>Our seaplane swung around and around like +a bird about to settle, and, as the seagulls do, +alighted on the waters against the wind. With +remarkable skill and patience the pilot carefully +steered the machine until she faced the ways on +which waited a throng of air-station officers and +waders. Soon we were properly placed, and a +dozen men clad in waterproof clothes splashed +forward into the water, and caught the floats of +the seaplane's wings. As the engine had been +stopped before we landed, I got the first chance +to speak to my pilot. He told me to get on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +back of one of the waders, and in a few minutes +I was again on dry land. Then the first thing +I thought of was how the machine looked in the +air. The officers congratulated my pilot on a +remarkably fine landing.</p> + +<p>We had been more than two hours and ten +minutes in the air, and we were both glad of a +good stretch as we walked to the hangar, the +burring buzz of the propeller still in my ears.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> +<h2>III. ADVENTURES IN A SEAPLANE</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was an interesting gathering which faced the +warm fire in a smoking-room of an East Coast +station of the Royal Naval Air Service. Many +of the seaplane pilots who were attired in the +blue and gold of naval officers had recently returned +from successful endeavours in their hazardous +life in the North Sea and on the Belgian +Coast. And here they were in old England chatting +about their experiences without brag or +boast—just telling modestly what had happened.</p> + +<p>On one side of the spacious room, on a long, +deep leather-cushioned sofa, were an officer of +the guards who was known to have an income +of at least ten thousand dollars a year, and who +had taken to flying for the excitement; a stocky +youth of twenty from Salt Lake City, Utah, who +was known to have eked out a livelihood on fifty +cents a day at Dayton, O., so that he could pay +for his training as a pilot; another youngster, +scion of a wealthy Argentine family with English +connections; and an Englishman, just over +thirty, who had been born in California and had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +heard the 1914 call of the mother country. They +were cramped, but comfortable.</p> + +<p>In other chairs of the deep, comfy English variety +were a rancher from Canada; an Olympic +champion, whose name has often figured in big +type in New York's evening newspapers; a lieutenant-commander +of the Royal Navy, who had +hunted big game in three continents; a wind-seared +first mate of a British tramp; a tanned tea-planter +from Ceylon; a 'Varsity man from Cambridge, +whose aim had been a curacy in the +English Church; a newspaper man from Rochester, +N. Y.; a London broker; the head of a +London print and lithographing business, looked +upon as one of the best pilots in the service; and +a publisher, who in pre-war days had been more +interested in "best sellers" than in seaplanes.</p> + +<p>All were dreadnoughts who looked upon it as +a privilege to give their lives to smash Prussian +militarism. If you had asked any one of them +for an interview he would have scoffed at the +idea. But ordinary newspapermen cannot be +blamed for being enthralled at the share of these +pilots in the World War. What's printed about +them? Just a paragraph to the effect that "Several +seaplanes last night bombed Zeebrugge or +Cuxhaven." They dashed out into the frigid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +North Sea with an errand, but their share in +the fights and the valuable assistance they have +been to Great Britain as scouts are seldom mentioned. +Still, they "carry on," asking for no encouragement. +And right here it must be explained +that "carry on" means to do or die +in this war. It is the byword of the British of +the day.</p> + +<p>It chanced that "Tidy," as we will call him, +was the first speaker who had something to say. +He had a reason for talking, for some evil genius +had followed him for two days. The yarn is best +told in his own words, so far as they can be +remembered.</p> + +<p>"It was my patrol and I started from France +at half-past five o'clock in the morning," began +the seaplane pilot. "I shot out to sea for about +thirty miles, and then continued to run along +the coast for about 63 miles. I caught sight of +a Dutch ship, and a little while afterwards observed +a submarine. Almost as soon as I saw the +vessel there was a cloud of smoke. I raced to the +scene, knowing then that the Dutch tramp had +been torpedoed by a German U-boat. Four +miles further on I espied a second submarine. I +opened fire on the first submarine, which then +I saw had taken in tow a boat evidently containing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +the survivors of the Dutch vessel. I observed +one of the Dutch sailors crawl to the +bows of the boat attached to the submarine and +cut the rope. At that instant I dropped a bomb, +which fell about 25 or 30 feet from the submarine. +The under-sea craft went down very +quickly, and I descended further and dropped +my aerial, and the mechanician-operator sent +out a message. I threw other bombs when I +thought I detected about where the submarine +was in the sea. It was like a hawk after a fish. +The other submarine fled without giving me a +chance.</p> + +<p>"I continued scouting, having warned the +British warships that two submarines were in the +vicinity. It came over very misty, and in the +deep haze I saw three or four German vessels +coming out. As I turned, deciding to race home +and give the word, my engines failed me. I +went down and down, holding off from the white +caps of the sea for two and one-quarter hours. +My next adventure was the sight of some German +aeroplanes. After fiddling around, I got +my engine started, and flew up to 1,000 feet +above the sea. It was lucky that I started the +engine when I did, for the sea was becoming +unpleasant. But then my magneto failed me,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +and I realised what was in store on those wind-torn +waters. I was forced to dodge about like a +bird with a broken wing. The wind freshened +to 40 knots. Although we did our utmost to keep +the seaplane off the water, it, of course, had to +rest there, and I became horribly seasick. The +mechanician and I tried to keep the craft afloat. +We fired off our rockets, hoping to attract the attention +of a friendly or neutral vessel, but at the +same time realising that we might fall victims +to the enemy.</p> + +<p>"All night the mechanician and I were tossed +on the sea without a chance of attracting anyone, +as our rockets had given out. The cold was +unbearable, and both of us were very seasick.</p> + +<p>"Dawn came, and there did not even then +seem much more chance of our being rescued +than at night time. You could not imagine anything +lonelier than a seaplane on the bosom of +the North Sea when you are without food or +drink. The rocking of the light craft would +have made a good sailor keel over with seasickness. +The happy moment, however, did come. +We were spotted by a mine-sweeper, and she +raced to the rescue. Our mangled machine was +hoisted on the kite crane of the little vessel. We +had been thirty-six hours without food and water,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +and most of the time bumped about on the +sea.</p> + +<p>"That would seem to be about enough for the +evil genius to perform, eh? But we were +doomed to have another surprise in store. I +went to bed in a room in a little hotel, and had +hardly closed my eyes when there was a great +explosion; the whole place seemed about to fall +down. I put on an overcoat, and tore outside to +discover that those blamed destroyers which I +had seen earlier were bombarding the place +where I went to sleep. A lucky shot demolished +the building next to the one in which I was in +bed; then I went back to bed, too tired to care +what else happened."</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> +<h2>IV. SWEEPING THE SEAS FOR MINES</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> are days when a mine-sweeper captain, +who is continually running the gauntlet of death, +reckons that he has been fortunate. Usually +this is when he just escapes being blown to bits +with his vessel or sees what can happen to a +steamship when it strikes one of the enemy mines +planted at random in the North Sea. There +are days when he goes out and sees nothing +worth while. However, despite the great danger, +unseen and unheard until all is over, these +mine-sweeper men guide their vessels out daybreak +after daybreak, with the same old carefree +air, to perform their allotted task in this +war.</p> + +<p>Many of these men were fishermen, who +looked as if they had slipped out of funny stories +in their thick jerseys and sou'-westers; now +they are part and parcel of the British Navy, +proud of the blue uniform and brass buttons and—when +they have them—of the wavy gold bands +on their sleeves. There are others who were officers +and so forth in the mercantile marine in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +pre-war days. They have sailed the seas from +John o' Groats to Tokio: and to them New York +is merely a jaunt.</p> + +<p>One of the latter, who was a passenger-vessel +officer, attracted a deal of attention at an East +English port by his indefatigable labour and +fearlessness in his risky job, until he was rewarded +for more than two years of grinning at +death by the Distinguished Service Cross.</p> + +<p>He knows Broadway well, can tell you where +he likes best to get his hair cut, and where he +considers they put up the best cocktail. One +day I was permitted to take a trip with this captain-lieutenant—and +get back. Mine-sweeping +has been written about by persons from Kipling +down, so I will just tell you the story as I then +saw it.</p> + +<p>The skipper stood on the bridge of his dusky-coloured +vessel as she soused through the waters +of the grim North Sea, his keen eyes ever on the +alert fore and aft, and occasionally on the sister +ship to his, coupled along with the "broom." +They were "carrying on," as usual. This skipper +was a man just in his thirties. His face was +cheery and round, and body was muscular and +thick-set. In spite of the watch he and his first +mate kept on this particular occasion, he found<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +time to give me his opinion on certain things +interesting to the men who go down to the sea in +ships, and also an idea of what it means to be in +command of a mine-sweeper.</p> + +<p>"You should have been with us on Sunday," +he said, as he lighted his cigarette between his +cupped hands. "It was more interesting than +usual—had something of this damn thrill you +talk about ashore and don't know what it is until +you've been at the firing front or in one of +these blessed ocean brooms. That chap across +the way found a mine in his kite, and we had to +cut the hawser in double-quick time, and get far +enough away from it before we pegged a bullet +in one of the horns."</p> + +<p>The skipper explained that none of the mines +are exploded less than 200 yards from the vessels. +He said that the experience he had just related +would have sufficed for a day, but that an hour +later, when he was still brushing up a part of the +North Sea, not far from the coast, he received +a warning from a trawler that a mine exposed +at low water was just ahead of him. Not in his +time had he seen a steamer go astern quicker. +Afterwards, they deftly fished around for the +mine, snapped its mooring rope, and brought it +to the surface. When the mine was at a safe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +distance from all vessels, a couple of men then +aimed their rifles at it until there was a loud explosion +which sent sand-coloured water 35 feet +and more into the air.</p> + +<p>But the affairs of that Sunday were not yet +complete. Twenty minutes after the mine had +been exploded a great rumble was heard way out +at sea, and soon it was ascertained by the captain +of the mine-sweeper that a Scandinavian tramp +had met her doom by striking a German mine.</p> + +<p>"We went off to see if we could pick up some +of the poor chaps," observed the skipper. +"Among the twenty-one men and boys we rescued +were four who'd been passengers aboard a +passenger vessel which had been torpedoed by a +German U-boat without warning near Malta. +They told us, when they got down into our engine-room, +that they were just having one hell of +a time getting home. I don't blame them for +thinking that. Through good fortune, and taking +chances of being sent to the bottom ourselves, +we have saved the lives of many of these +neutrals who might have perished. Yes, here we +are mine-sweeping as a job, flying the white ensign +of the British Navy; and yet we have found +time to save life imperilled by the enemy. +Sometimes I wonder what sly Fritz would have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +to say if he'd even saved a single neutral. He'd +be blowing yet. Did you ever stop to think that +our Government never has jeopardised a single +neutral life? On the other hand, the lives of +neutrals that have been rescued at this port run +into the thousands. They talk about the freedom +of the seas. What else has there been until +Germany showed that what she wants is the +'tyranny of the seas.' Leastways, that's how it +strikes me. Ever stop to——"</p> + +<p>His attention was caught by a signal from the +other vessel, and a keen-eyed sailor wig-wagged +back an answer. It was all right, although at +first I still remembered the timely warning regarding +the slightly submerged mine. As a +matter of fact, it was merely a desire of the sister +ship's captain to turn around and "sweep +back," as the land-lubber might term it.</p> + +<p>"Let's see," said the commander, "where was +I.... Oh, yes.... Realise that we go out +and save lives that the enemy imperils far out +at sea? They are lives that don't concern us, but +we don't feel like letting a poor chap drown if +we can help it. On the other hand, our enemy +stops at nothing, and, moreover, takes advantage +of our humanity. I think that it should be +known that we dash out to the rescue never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +knowing when the ship may go up against one +of Fritz's eggs, which may be anywhere in the +sea. Why do we go? Just to pick up a benighted +lot from an ill-fated tramp, and there's +nothing in it. Yet we do it all the time, and the +C.O. commends us for it, too."</p> + +<p>We came to a new spot in the green sea to +sweep. It was fairly rough, and the little vessel +bumped and jumped. And this is the work that +goes on from daybreak to dusk seven days a +week. If a trawler strikes a mine she usually +counts on saying good-bye to herself and 80 +per cent. of her crew, and the other type of +mine-sweeper is lucky if she gets off with a loss +of less than 40 per cent.</p> + +<p>Back and forth in a monotonous sea we +steamed, and you had an idea how dull this work +can be sometimes; also that when it comes to +sweeping you saw that the North Sea is a big +place.</p> + +<p>"It's become a science," observed the skipper. +"Fritz has a hard time many a night 'laying his +eggs,' and the many ways we have of bringing +them to the surface has baffled him a good +deal."</p> + +<p>A torpedo-boat destroyer hove within signalling +distance. The commander was handed a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +message by a sailor. The alert skipper read it, +and said:—</p> + +<p>"Tell 'em 'yes.'... Just want to know if we +had swept around there."</p> + +<p>Still the smoke-coloured little vessels kept up +the job of plying back and forth in the waters. +Men were busy at the stern of the ships watching +the wooden kites that are made so as to catch the +mines by the hawser that is slung between the +two steamers. The slightest sign of a ball-like +piece of steel in the sea and the dullness of +sweeping is relieved, for then the skipper knows +that he has unhooked one of the mines. Along +came a submarine, flying the white ensign of the +Royal Navy. The mine-sweepers realise that +these men have no arm-chair job, and admire the +commander and crew of the under-water boats +accordingly. A sailor semaphored with his +arms, and the commander of the mine-sweeper +sent a message back, and the submarine passed +slowly on her way.</p> + +<p>"If some of those people at home and abroad +at their firesides realised what the men at sea +have to suffer to keep this coast free they might +have a different way of talking," declared the +commander, now taking to his much-burned old +pipe. "Those chaps that have just come in have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +had a week without any sleep—or next to none—and +their food has all been canned stuff. There +are many persons who think the North Sea's a +pond—same as they do over in America."</p> + +<p>On we steamed in our section of the waters +with never a sign of a German mine. Finally, +the day came to a close, and the captain ordered +the hawser to be slipped and the kite hoisted in +the stern crane of his vessel, the like being done +by the other sweeper.</p> + +<p>As if glad that the day's work was over, the +small craft pressed forward to the harbour, and +were disappointed to find that a big tramp was +taking up the room of their berths. They anchored +outside, waiting for the big steamer to +get away.</p> + +<p>"Do they tell you when you can come alongside +the dock?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"No need to," said the captain with a smile. +"You'll see."</p> + +<p>We had been in the open harbour for about +twenty minutes when the bows of the ugly vessel +came slowly on. An instant later all the small +craft were ready to speed to their respective +berths in their turns, and it was not so very +long before the mine-sweeper was tied to her +part of the dock. The commander of the sister<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +vessel to the one I had been aboard came over +to us.</p> + +<p>"Good ship that of yours?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," muttered the man with two rings of +the Royal Naval Reserve on his sleeve. "She's +all right; but I love this ship. I had her a year +ago, and she's a little wonder. It would take +me a long while to love another vessel."</p> + +<p>My skipper laughed.</p> + +<p>"Just one of those days," he said. "Come, let's +go and have a spot."</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> +<h2>V. THE ROYAL NAVAL DIVISION</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffeted</span> about from Antwerp to Gallipoli, +Egypt, the Greek Islands, Salonika, and then +to France, first under an admiral, then part of +an army corps, again under an admiral, and +finally back to military regime—the life of the +Royal Naval Division, which startled an Empire +by their valour on the Ancre, has been one +full of thrills, sorrows, threats of extinction, +brave deeds, and perilous journeys. They are +proud of their naval origin, and are also tenacious +of their naval customs, despite the fact that +all their fighting has been done ashore and few +sailors survive among them.</p> + +<p>In August, 1914, Mr. Winston Churchill, +then First Lord of the Admiralty, mobilised and +organised, as a division for land fighting, reservist +seamen, stokers and marines, and naval volunteers +whose services were not required afloat, +also recruits drawn mainly from among the +miners of the North of England and Scotland. +Guards' officers, naval and marine instructors—each +in his own ritual—help to train them. To<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +the Navy, who raided them when it needed seamen +or stokers for its ships, they were "dry-land +sailors." To the Army, they were just a bunch +of "so-called salts" or "Winston's Own." But +their instructors soon recognised that in these +grousing, middle-aged stokers, and in these silent +stolid illiterate miners and ironworkers +from the North Country, they had the raw material +of soldiers as fine as Great Britain can +breed.</p> + +<p>In many respects, the Division has had the +worst of both worlds. They have beaten their +way steadily to the fore without much recognition +in print; but since Beaucourt fell, both military +and naval men have been eager to grasp +their hands.</p> + +<p>Now and again a brief mention fell to their lot +while they were in Gallipoli, where the military +were attracted to them a bit by the idea of calling +their battalions after famous admirals such as +Nelson, Drake, Hood, Collingwood, Anson, +Howe, Benbow, and Hawke. Sir Ian Hamilton +made mention of the fearlessness of the division +in his despatches, and Major-General D'Amade +eulogised them for their bravery after the frays +of the 6th, 7th, and 8th of May, 1915. In June, +1915, the Collingwood battalion was wiped out;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +of the officers of this battalion and of the Hood, +who went to the attack, not one returned unwounded. +The other battalions also suffered +terribly, having been equally contemptful of +danger.</p> + +<p>Prior to that they had, of course, been to +Antwerp. Even if they did not have a chance +to do much, the Division, at any rate, caused the +Belgians to hold out for five days longer than +they might otherwise have done.</p> + +<p>Among the many brave men on the officers' +roll are well-known Britishers who have given +their lives for their country. There was Rupert +Brooke, the poet; Denis Browne, formerly +musical critic of <i>The Times</i>; F. S. Kelly, holder +of the Diamond Sculls record, who also was an +exceptionally clever composer and pianist; and +Arthur Waldene St. Clair Tisdall, a great +scholar and poet of Cambridge. He was +awarded the Victoria Cross for his valour on the +25th of April, at Gallipoli, for going to the rescue +of wounded men on the beach. To accomplish +this, he pushed a boat in front of him. On +his second trip he was obliged to ask for help. +In all, he made five trips in the face of great +danger. He met death in action barely three +weeks afterwards.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lieutenant-Commander Arthur M. Asquith, +son of the former British Premier, is one of the +gallant men attached to the Hood battalion. He +has been through the thick of many fights, and +has been wounded more than once, escaping +death through sheer good fortune.</p> + +<p>And one of the men whom all England was +wild about is a New Zealander from Wellington, +twenty-seven years old, now an acting lieutenant-colonel, +who was described by an eye-witness +of the Ancre fighting as "a flying figure in +bandages plunging over Germans to Beaucourt." +He is B. C. Freyberg, a born soldier and great +athlete.</p> + +<p>Before the Great War, this marvel of courage +was fighting for Pancho Villa in Mexico; and +the instant the European conflict started, Freyberg +realised that he might do better in Europe. +He therefore deserted Villa, and set out afoot +for San Francisco. His splendid constitution +stood him in good stead, and he arrived there as +fit as a fiddle, soon afterwards winning enough +money in a swimming race to take him to London. +In the English capital he received a commission +as a sub-lieutenant in the Royal Naval +Division, and his promotion has been rapid.</p> + +<p>Colonel Freyberg was caught in a live electric<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +wire in Antwerp; but it was of so high a voltage +that he was not killed, sustaining only an injury +to his hand and arm. He was even fired at by +his own men, who believed that he was a German +crawling through the wire. Just before the +landing in Gallipoli, on the 25th of April, 1915, +it was proposed to throw dust in the eyes of the +Turks by landing a platoon at a point on the +coast of the Gulf of Saros, where no serious +landing was contemplated. To save the sacrifice +of a platoon, Freyberg, who was at that time +a company-commander in the Hood battalion, +pressed to be allowed to achieve the same object +single-handed. His wish was granted; and +on the night of the 24th-25th of April, oiled and +naked, he swam ashore, towing a canvas canoe +containing flares and a revolver. He reconnoitred +the enemy's trenches, and, under the covering +fire of a destroyer, lit his flares at intervals +along the beach. He had some difficulty in finding +his boat again. A mysterious fin accompanied +him during part of the swim. He at first +took it to be that of a shark, but found later +it belonged to a harmless porpoise. After some +two hours in the water, he was picked up, and +for this gallant and successful feat he was made +a Companion of the Distinguished Service Order.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +In Gallipoli he was wounded in May, +again in July, 1915, and he was mentioned in +Sir Charles Monro's despatches in connection +with the successful evacuation of the 9th of January, +1916.</p> + +<p>Hence, this sailor-soldier in a comparatively +short time attracted a good deal of attention +among the naval and military authorities; so it +was not surprising that when he applied for a +permanent commission in the British Army he +was given a captaincy in the Queen's Royal +West Surrey Regiment. The same day, however, +he received this news he was seconded to +the Royal Naval Division with the temporary +rank of lieutenant-colonel. So he retained command +of his old battalion—the Hood.</p> + +<p>Inasmuch as the first despatches concerning +the storming of Beaucourt referred to Lieutenant-Colonel +Freyberg as "a naval colonel," all +Britain was wondering who this hero could be. +Some of his friends were not long in guessing; +but it was not until the next day that Freyberg +in name received credit for the remarkable exploit +on the north bank of the Ancre. In the +first messages of the British success it was set +forth that in a battle where every man fought +nobly for the honour of his regiment and his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +country, one individual act of leadership stood +out with peculiar distinctness.</p> + +<p>A witness of the battle told of the troops on +Freyberg's left being held up, and that between +him and them ran, roughly parallel with the +line of advance, a spur which cut off the effect of +the enemy's machine guns. After fourteen hours +of fighting, bit by bit, the sea-dog soldiers had +plunged through a mile of trenches and ground +sorely marked by shells. Three machine guns +then were pushed forward well beyond that line, +and the still unsatisfied sailor-colonel, his shoulder +and right arm swathed in bandages, asked +leave to go ahead and attack the village. His +men were about 1,000 yards in front of the companies +on his left, endeavouring to advance +across the northwesterly slope. It was more like +a matter of defence than attack. The men were +few in numbers, and had fought like tigers for +long hours without a rest. However, about 500 +men were collected, and the dark of night was +spent in organisation. Then, in the misty dawn, +some soldier battalions came up to reinforce the +left, and onward plunged Freyberg.</p> + +<p>Out on the Ancre they say that he got so far +ahead of his men that he rubbed his hand over +his head and murmured: "Huh—I believe I forgot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +to tell them to follow me." Whether or not +this is true, only Freyberg knows. But we do +not remain in doubt as to what he and his men +did right afterwards. They ploughed their way +through mud and Germans, with the fire of five +machine guns peppering them. They stuck +right on the heels of the barrage fire, and in less +than twenty minutes from that time the Germans +had been driven from their stronghold of +Beaucourt. Here and there a German post held, +and men in the trenches faced the British bombs +and cold steel. Still the Teutons soon learned +that it was impossible to stop that alarming Briton +and his men.</p> + +<p>Freyberg formed a semicircular trench +around the far side of the new possession, and +then they took time to see what had happened +to the gallant little band. Freyberg had received +his fourth wound, and his brave 500 had +dwindled to a number a good deal smaller. The +Britishers, somehow, had been unkind in their +speed to the Germans, and the enemy was left +gaping with wonder at the result of what they at +first took to be nothing more than a bit of bluff.</p> + +<p>For this remarkable display of valour Freyberg +received the Victoria Cross.</p> + +<p>Reverting to the division itself, it should be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +said that every officer of these jolly-jack-tar soldiers +has panegyrics galore to cast in the direction +of General Sir Archibald Paris, K.C.B., +who was in command of the division at Antwerp +and the Dardanelles. He lost a leg before the +Ancre fighting, and thus was disappointed of +being with them for their great success in +France. He was succeeded by Major-General +Cameron Shute, C.B. What the division has recently +accomplished and the way it has terrorised +the enemy, like Kipling's "Tyneside Tail +Twisters," is a happy thought to General Shute. +In one battalion it is estimated that 90 per cent. +of the casualties in the Ancre fighting were +caused by the closeness with which the sailors +clung to the barrage fire. Their grit caused the +enemy to pale.</p> + +<p>They are pleased and proud of their sea terms, +and would not give them up for anything—not +even if the soldiers of the King do not fathom +their meaning.</p> + +<p>It is a case of going to the "galley," while the +red-coat that was persists in the "kitchen." The +first field dressing-station is nothing but "sick +bay" to the R.N.D. man. They "go adrift" +when they are missing from parade, and they ask +to "go ashore" when they want leave.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> +<h2>VI. A NAVAL SCHOOL</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">From</span> one of several institutions, every six +months Britain turns out 2,200 boys who have +mastered the elementary rudiments of seamanship +and are ready to take their places as ordinary +seamen aboard warships. They will not +tell you how many of these schools there are in +Great Britain alone, but you may learn that no +undue activity has been brought about in these +places because John Bull is at war. After having +waded through the curriculum of these boys, +one comes to the conclusion that they are not so +far from being able seamen by the time they +emerge from this place on the East Coast.</p> + +<p>It is especially striking how speedily the +youthful mind snatches up the mysteries of signalling +and of wireless telegraphy; and one is +filled with interest in following the boys from +the time they first enter the school to the day +they leave.</p> + +<p>In a room where they are "kitting up" are +twenty or thirty boys who have just arrived.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +And, as they say in America, there is "no monkey +business" about the instructors: either the +boys are those who are wanted or they are not. +The youngsters receive their first seafaring garb +in a large, well-ventilated room. They have been +in the bath, and their hair is as close as the clippers +can make it. One of them said he was the +son of a lawyer; another that his father was in +the Royal Navy; a third came of a parson's family; +a husky young chap had been a blacksmith's +assistant; and another had coo-ed milk in London +streets.</p> + +<p>"An'," declared a petty officer, "they all comes +here believin' they'll be able to get a pot shot at +the Kaiser. Seems to me that they imagine that +William is always standing on guard on the +rocks of Heligoland, just waiting for them to +come along—what?"</p> + +<p>In another section of the school the boys are +grounded in discipline by a petty officer, and by +the time they get through with him they are +accustomed to saluting. Follows then a whirl of +wonders to them. There is a model of the forepart +of a ship, which they can steer, and so learn +port from starboard; there is the ingenious manner +of dropping a lifeboat into the lap of the +sea; and then the interesting work of tying knots,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +in which the petty officer instructor takes considerable +pride.</p> + +<p>One of the most interesting rooms of sub-schools +is the one where the youthful "salts" are +initiated into the mysteries of signalling, where, +besides the numerous flags for sea conversation, +there is a dummy wireless station, by which they +can become proficient operators. They have +models of ships, so that they can tell which are +British and which are German. Then there are +gunnery schools, and it speaks well for the young +Briton that 90 per cent. of the pupils have such +keen minds that they yearn to learn more of the +mysteries of the study of sea fighting; they have +the ambition to be really good seamen, engine-room +men, wireless operators, or signalmen.</p> + +<p>On a section of the school grounds there is a +mast on which is hoisted the White Ensign of the +British Navy. This spot is known as the quarter-deck, +and every time one of the youngsters +passes where he can see that mast he salutes reverently. +Beyond that there is the recreation +ground, where every Saturday afternoon in winter +there are half a dozen games of football. +The officers help them to enjoy that, too, for, +like Americans, they delight in exercise.</p> + +<p>It is remarkable what a change a boy undergoes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +after a few months at the institution. I was +told of would-be sailors who were sloppy and +dirty when they entered the school being transformed +into neat, fine physical specimens.</p> + +<p>"A hair-cut, a wash, a change of underwear +and other garments makes all the difference in +the world," said one of the instructors. "And +when you add to this lessons in sea-neatness, a +good deal of interesting headwork, manual labour, +good food and plenty of recreation, it's +no wonder that the mill makes a new boy of one +of the seafaring aspirants."</p> + +<p>The boys have one great mess-room; and, although +they never have been to sea, they are +taught to treat the school as if it were a war +vessel. They ate with vigour when I saw them, +and I was told that the money given to them by +the Government is spent for extras in the eating +line—principally candies. Each table constitutes +a mess, and there are prizes for the cleanest +and best-arranged mess; so they arrange their +knives, forks, and spoons in a design calculated +to catch the prize-awarder's eye. And, incidentally, +this idea of giving prizes for the best-kept +mess is followed throughout the service.</p> + +<p>Each day is started with prayer on the quarter-deck, +and an impressive ceremony it is. Honour<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +and glory is what they will tell you they +hope to get out of the Navy, and not money. +And the idea of honour, as it is known in the +Navy, is drummed into them from the moment +they enter the school.</p> + +<p>To see these youngsters at any meal is to believe +that it was the first time they had eaten for +a week. They are ravenously hungry, and the +food is of such excellence that it makes a visitor +feel as if he would like to sit down too. There +is little waste here, for I observed that each plate +was polished clean; and, when eating was over, +the boys bounded out for an hour's recreation on +the spacious grounds. On their way many of +them paid a visit to the candy-store, and while +they were playing they munched candy.</p> + +<p>The port where this school is located is a +healthful spot, and in war time no person is permitted +to board a ferry to the school without a +special pass. When you first land you are decidedly +struck by the great figure-heads of old +war vessels, which are set up on the "quarter-deck" +and in front of some of the buildings. +There is one of the old Ganges there—a mammoth +wooden head of a very black negro. The +size of it is startling.</p> + +<p>The officers have a charmingly comfortable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +ward-room and mess-room. In the bay is the +second Ganges, now a sort of mother-ship for +mine-sweepers and trawlers, and one of the busiest +places one can imagine. The King not long +ago dined aboard this ship, and is said to have +expressed great interest in the work carried on +from the Ganges.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> +<h2>VII. "GENTLEMEN, 'THE KING'"</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> are many traditions to which the Royal +Navy still clings, and there are messes afloat and +ashore where it is manifest that time has not +withered impressive and picturesque features +of the days of the wooden warships. For instance, +no layman can help being struck by the +British naval officers' toast to the King. And +the other toasts are offered with such splendid +solemnity and grace that it makes one wish that +something of the sort could be done at even the +minor affairs where civilians are gathered. Of +course, the Londoner and the man from Manchester +offers his toast at a great banquet, as they +do in New York and other American cities to the +President of the United States. But although +it takes no longer at a naval mess, there is a +something about it which places the civilian in +the shade. With the Navy it is a mess, and not +a dinner where there are many strangers, and +every officer has been doing this since he was a +boy.</p> + +<p>John Bull's naval officers are men who admit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +the faults of their country. They have travelled, +and have seen a good many other countries and +peoples. From Osborne and Britannia days +sincerity seems to have been inculcated into +them. The discipline is inflexible, but kindly. +The captain of a "Dreadnought" will take pains +to ask a young midshipman to dine with him, +and there exists a wonderful thoughtfulness on +the part of the officers for the men. British +naval officers are lovers of sports, and, having believed +the Germans good sports before August, +1914, they cannot condone attacks on non-belligerents +or the shooting of nurses. His Majesty's +naval officers do great things without talking +about them, and at dinner one of the star +heroes of the war may be in the next chair to you, +but you certainly will not hear it from him.</p> + +<p>Opposite me sat a man who had faced death +with Scott on the Polar expedition. It was after +I had left the mess that I learned this from one +of his friends. But at a mess you may hear stories +of men who are absent. It was at dinner +aboard one of the great, grey sea-fighters that we +laughed at the yarn of a young middy, in charge +of one of the cutters off Gallipoli when the +Turks were sending shells like rain. This midshipman +ordered his men to take cover. His<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +men included bearded fellows twice his size and +age. They obeyed, as they always obey. Then +the youthful fearnought, to show his contempt +for danger, stood on one of the cutter's cross-seats, +pulled out a cigarette-case almost as large +as himself, and puffed rings of smoke skywards.</p> + +<p>"I made a jolly fine set of rings that time," he +told one of the men.</p> + +<p>Another of this tribe was in Cairo on leave +when he received word that his ship was to +leave sooner than expected. She was in Alexandria. +Not having sufficient money to pay his +train fare, he requisitioned a motor-bicycle and +sped on to Alexandria. From his youthful eyes +there welled tears when he was informed that his +ship was weighing anchor. Nothing daunted, +however, he commandeered a fast motor-boat, +and swept out after the warship, which he +caught on the go. This is the man who in later +years you are apt to meet at the officers' messes—a +man full of information and wonderfully versatile. +He may have ploughed the seas for many +years, and dwelt in his steel home in the baking +heat of tropical suns, and waited for the enemy +for many a day. Hence conversation never lags +at these dinners. The meals are comparatively +plain in these days; but most of the officers stick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +to the delight of a cocktail before dinner, and +after the <i>pièce de résistance</i> they have their +glass of port.</p> + +<p>Just before the dessert the port is poured into +glistening glasses, and the table is cleared.</p> + +<p>"Table cleared, sir," announces the steward to +the president of the mess; and a second later one +hears: "Wine passed, sir."</p> + +<p>"Thank God," is the brief grace of the chaplain; +or, if one is not present, the head of the +mess says it. This is followed with a rap on +the table, and from the president of the mess:—</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vice, 'The King.'"</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, 'The King,'" speaks out the vice-president +of the mess, who is seated at the other +end of the table opposite to the head of the mess.</p> + +<p>Conversation, which a second before had been +filling the place, is silenced by the grace, and the +stranger may be somewhat startled by the suddenness +of the proceedings. It is the privilege +of these officers to drink the King's health seated. +This is an old custom, which came about through +the sovereign realising that ships are not the +steadiest places always, and the fact that the +ward-rooms are sometimes not constructed so +that a tall man can always stand erect.</p> + +<p>Immediately "Gentlemen, 'The King,'" is uttered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +by the mess's vice-president each officer repeats +in an undertone: "The King." The +glasses after being held aloft come to the table +as one, and the conversation is resumed. Garbed +in their immaculate monkey-jackets, with the +glistening gold braid on the cuffs, the men at +the carefully set and beflowered table make a +scene long to be remembered.</p> + +<p>Incidentally, there is a marine officers' mess +at a certain port which naval officers are always +ready to talk about. In that place they are proud +of a wonderful mahogany table which has been +polished for many years until it is now like a +black mirror. The band of this mess is one of +the best in England; and it is the privilege of the +bandmaster to play at concerts and in theatres, +the proceeds being divided among charities, the +bandmaster and his men. Hence the leader of +this band probably had an income of $7,500 a +year.</p> + +<p>Here, before the toast to the King is offered, +servants come along each side of the great table +and, at a given word, whisk the tablecloth from +the shiny mahogany. The bandmaster is invited +to have a glass of port by the president of the +mess. The band leader seats himself, and sips +his wine. Follows then the toast to the King.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<p>At the mess of the largest Royal Naval Air +Station in England they have, by good fortune, +obtained the services of a chef who formerly was +of the Ritz Hotel in London; and especial attention +is given to this mess. No matter how +hard may have been the day's work or how many +men have been forced to leave for other billets, +the dinners there are a sight for the gods. More +than 150 expert seaplane pilots from all over the +world sit down.</p> + +<p>It is like a bit of history of olden days to hear: +"Gentlemen, 'The King,'" with its charm and +ceremony.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> +<h2>VIII. THE ROYAL NAVAL AMBULANCE TRAIN</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ready</span> to speed to any accessible port on telegraphic +or telephonic orders from the Admiralty +Medical Transport Department are Royal +Naval Ambulance trains. They are always on +the move, picking up wounded or sick officers +and bluejackets at Scotch and English ports, +bearing them to stations where there are great +hospitals, to relieve the coast institutions likely +to receive wounded in the event of a North Sea +Fleet engagement. These grey-painted trains, +with the Red Cross and the "R.N." on each +coach, are the outcome of a great deal of study, +and they are now run with remarkable efficiency. +No millionaire could receive better care when +wounded or ill than do John Bull's naval officers +and seamen.</p> + +<p>Sir James Porter, the head of this service, +whose pen sends a train to all parts of England +and Scotland, has a loyal staff, which devotes +remarkable zeal to their share of the work.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +They take pride in making a time-record in disembarkation +and entraining of patients. Naval +surgeons at each railroad station watch the work +of the stretcher-bearers to be sure that every cot +has the gentlest possible handling when being +carried from the train to the ambulance which is +to take the patient to the local hospital.</p> + +<p>The "stepping" of the stretcher-bearers seems +a trifling thing, but it is surprising to note the +attention given to this point in the first days of +the war. Dr. A. V. Elder, staff surgeon of the +Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve and the right +bower of Sir James Porter, practised for weeks +the carrying of patients, getting into cots to ascertain +the most comfortable step for the wounded. +Prizes were even given to the men who carried +a pail of water on a cot and reached a fixed +point with the most liquid in the receptacle. By +this means the best method of "stepping off" was +evolved. There are hundreds of these stretcher-bearers—volunteers +without compensation—who +now perform the task so well that it attracts +even the attention of the casual observer. The +cot-bearers are doing their "bit"; they get to the +railroad stations at all times to meet the ambulance +trains, and often have to wait hours and +give up their usual business.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>It may also be interesting to some that in those +August days the Naval Ambulance trains were +not much more than a series of box-cars. The +present cot—an ingenious arrangement by naval +surgeons—was used in the naval hospitals and +aboard the warships. But the fixtures on the +train for carrying this cot were far from perfection. +The patient was tossed about by the movement +of the train, and it was realised that in the +event of hundreds of patients being carried +something would have to be discovered to steady +the beds. Dr. Elder invented a clip-spring to be +attached to the cot and the side of the coach. It +held the bed, and had sufficient "give" to make +it steady. In lieu of the box-cars, there are now +coaches of the American type, with windows and +great sliding doors which permit of easy ingress +or egress.</p> + +<p>The railroad officials have listened to the bidding +of the Medical Transport Officer of the +Admiralty and have attached some of the best +locomotives to these trains, usually of twelve +coaches. Even when there has not been an action, +and the trains are bearing mostly medical +cases, all passenger and freight traffic gives way +to the ambulance trains. If the surgeon in charge +of the train decides that he has a case which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +should be hastened to a hospital he wires ahead, +so that when he reaches that point the surgeon +or the agent there is on hand with an ambulance +to rush the patient to a local hospital.</p> + +<p>Where it is possible, red tape has been eliminated. +The cots in which the patients are carried +are sent with the patient from a hospital or +ship, and the patient is only taken out when he +arrives at the hospital of his destination. For +the cot bearing the patient, the train surgeon receives +in exchange a clean cot. This cot has been +laundered and fumigated, and is kept on the +train so that when only patients are entrained +the surgeon gives a cot for each case taken +aboard. Hence the surgeon always has the same +number of cots on his train, and through this +means paper and pencil work is avoided. The +patient's clothes are packed in a bag, and all +the valuables of one batch of patients are sealed +up in one envelope, which is receipted for by the +surgeon of the hospital to which the patients are +sent.</p> + +<p>No patient is transferred from a hospital in a +critical condition if it can be avoided. But sometimes +this is necessary, as it was following the +Jutland Battle. Then the most serious cases were +held in the hospitals; while, where it was possible,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +hundreds of cases were despatched to institutions +at other ports.</p> + +<p>The route of these ambulance trains may differ +every round trip. One ambulance train may +go to the North of Scotland, while the next one +will only go to Glasgow or Edinburgh if there +is no call further north. The wonderful organisation +not only undertakes to relieve hospitals, +but also to ship the patients to institutions +unlikely to be suddenly burdened with many +cases; and consideration is also given as to where +the patient can receive the best attention, such +as in southern hospitals.</p> + +<p>Fleet-Surgeon A. Stanley Nance is the Medical +Transport Officer for Scotland. He is ever +on the alert for what is going on in the hospitals +in his territory. In the event of a great sea conflict, +he receives orders from Sir James Porter +and information concerning all the trains which +are by that time racing to the ports nearest to +the scene of the engagement.</p> + +<p>In London, the Medical Transport Officer +can place his finger on a railroad map at any +time and tell within a mile or so where his trains +are. If by any possible chance they are delayed +he receives word from the train surgeons.</p> + +<p>Knowing the probability of further engagements<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +in the North Sea, quite a number of +wealthy private individuals have interested +themselves in the hospitals on the East Coast +from north to south. And these persons take +especial interest in the trains, many of them +making it a point to be at the railroad station +whenever a Royal Naval Ambulance train pulls +in. What with sick men and accidents, the trains +now and again may have a full quota of patients +without there having been a fleet engagement. +In war time no man who is not physically fit is +kept aboard ship, for he may not take up another +man's place without being able to perform +his work.</p> + +<p>Exigencies of war have caused the speedy +transformation of buildings in many parts of +England into hospitals. There also are institutions +constructed in temporary form, architecturally +not works of art, but wonderfully useful. +The surgeons at these latter places have wrought +marvels in obtaining good light in the wards and +operating-rooms, and creating a comfortable atmosphere +in the exteriorly dingy places.</p> + +<p>The starting-point or headquarters of the ambulance +trains is in the South, and when they +plough their way North they carry no patients.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +The complement of these trains is from forty to +fifty hands, and they all look upon the train as a +ship, and use sailors' terms. It is the "Sick Bay +Express."</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> +<h2>IX. A RUN IN A ROYAL NAVAL AMBULANCE TRAIN</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">I obtained</span> permission to make a "voyage" in an +ambulance train.</p> + +<p>On a grey, drizzling morning one of the +Royal Naval trains glided into a siding at +Queensferry—a dozen miles from Edinburgh. +In less than ten minutes six hefty stretcher-bearers +steadily and silently bore the first cot patient +from a waiting ambulance to the war-coloured +train. Cot then followed cot with precision, +only two of the patients being in the open at a +time; and as quickly as mortals could accomplish +it these cots were set swinging in the "eyes" +set for the lanyards.</p> + +<p>Being about half-past eight o'clock, nobody +had much to say. The faces of the sick and +wounded bluejackets told you nothing as they +lazily gazed around them while being hoisted +into the hospital train. They looked like men +sewed into white sailcloth sacks. Surgeons, with +two and three gold stripes, between which runs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +the red—blood red, some say—denoting their +department in the Navy, glanced occasionally at +the patients.</p> + +<p>"Carry on, there," then came from the +R.N.V.R. lieutenant in charge of the stretcher-bearers, +when one of the coaches had received its +quota of sick and wounded. Then the sliding +doors of the next coach yawned for its measure +of sick men, who presented an interesting rather +than a pathetic picture, for every bluejacket +wore his cap, looking like a sailor who had gone +to bed with his clothes on. That cap travels with +him like his papers. The bluejacket has many +important things which he conceals in it, and +the most important of all is his package of "gaspers," +as he terms his particular brand of cigarettes. +The cap is placed firmly on his head, and +occasionally a flannelled arm protruded from +the cot. No moan or groan escaped from these +plucky patients, for the sailor always lives up +to the traditions of the Royal Navy.</p> + +<p>From one of the cots there showed a head covered +in bandages with only two small openings +for the patient's eyes. His cap was on his bed. +As this sailor was being hoisted into the train a +deep voice came from the bed:—</p> + +<p>"Mind yer eye, Bill, or yer'll get yer feet wet."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bill was a "sitting case." He had come up on +the same ambulance as his pal. He had been in +the same fo'castle and had been hurt in the same +accident. And now they were going aboard the +same train to the same port. Bill paid little heed +at that moment to his chum as he picked his way +through the water and mud. His right arm was +in a sling and the comforting cigarette between +his teeth. Standing on the last rung of the little +ladder before going into the car, I heard him say +to another sailor:—</p> + +<p>"She's over yonder. Bye-bye for the present."</p> + +<p>His cap came off as he looked in the direction +of the great deep water where lay the hazy forms +of ships. Others looked, but said nothing about +the sailor doffing his cap to his grey-steel sweetheart +who had weathered the fight against odds.</p> + +<p>"That makes 110," said the train surgeon. +"Six, four, seventy-three, twenty-seven—what?"</p> + +<p>The first two numerals denote officers, sitting +and cot cases, and the latter two those of the +men.</p> + +<p>"Right-o," quoth the officer of the stretcher-bearers.</p> + +<p>Soon the grey train steamed out, with orders +to make a stop for a couple of cot cases in Edinburgh. +In the Waverley Station a few minutes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +later the train took aboard the patients, and +then sped on south.</p> + +<p>Before "she" had been under way very long, +the surgeon in charge and his assistant walked +through the coaches, observing the cases on +board and noting whether any of them needed +any special attention.</p> + +<p>At noon the cooks and stewards were hustling, +giving food to men who, I supposed, would only +require toast and beef-tea. But it takes a lot to +make a bluejacket lose his hunger.</p> + +<p>"They're all 'Oliver Twists,'" declared the +train surgeon.</p> + +<p>Now, there is nothing that a sailor of His +Majesty's Navy likes so much to look at as a +pretty girl. Hence it was not surprising when I +heard a voice from one of the cots, after the train +had stopped at Newcastle, in enthusiastic tones +blurt out:—</p> + +<p>"From 'ere I can see the purtiest gal I ever +laid eyes on."</p> + +<p>Business, then, of a movement in every cot. +Eyes were all front, gazing in the direction of a +golden-haired beauty, who blushed a deep pink +when she realised how many pairs of eyes from +the train were focussed on her. Soon horny +hands were being kissed in her direction. Shyly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +she sent a kiss or two back, and then retired to +the shadows.</p> + +<p>As I said before, the train is considered a ship. +It is a case of going to "Sick Bay" and of "out +pipes" at nine o'clock. They talk of "darkening +the ship" when the blinds are pulled and the +lights covered. We arrived at Hull when it was +dusk, and at the station was, among other persons, +Lady Nunburnholme, whose husband is +the chief owner of the Wilson Line of steamships, +and who takes a deep interest in the ambulance +trains and the sailors' hospital in her +town. No matter at what hour one of the Royal +Naval trains is due, Lady Nunburnholme is at +the depot, always eager to have a word with the +men, and give them cigarettes and cheer them +up.</p> + +<p>By error, that evening a clergyman or naval +chaplain, who had been hurt on a warship, was +put in the coach with the men. The surgeon +made the discovery, and said he would have the +padre moved into the officers' quarters at the +next stop.</p> + +<p>"I'm a humbug," said the cheery pastor. +"There's nothing wrong with me. Just go ahead +looking after the men."</p> + +<p>Plymouth was to be the next stop. We were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +due there at half-past seven o'clock the following +morning. At midnight the chief surgeon walked +through the train to see that all was well, and he +was attracted by a man coughing. He directed +that something be given to this patient.</p> + +<p>"Don't want to have one man keep half a +dozen awake needlessly," said the surgeon.</p> + +<p>Then there was an officer who could not go to +sleep. He was a medical case, suffering from +rheumatism. But what kept him awake was the +thought that he might lose his ship. There was +a sailor who had fallen on his vessel, knocked +four of his teeth out, and cut his head. Why he +had to go to "Sick Bay" for such a trifle was beyond +him. In the dark hours of the early morning +one might have seen the faithful surgeon +again going through his train, speaking in whispers +to those who lay awake, asking them if there +was anything they needed and what pain they +had.</p> + +<p>"I've got pains all over me, and me 'ead feels +scorchin' with the bangin' that's goin' on inside," +said one man.</p> + +<p>"That's a grumble to get a drink," said the +surgeon, who told the man to try to go to sleep.</p> + +<p>Devonshire was the scene of gladsome sunshine +when the train steamed into the station, delivered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +certain patients, and picked up others +for another port. In his anxiety to get a truck +out of the way to permit the stretcher-bearers +uninterrupted passage to the ambulances, a porter +tipped over six and a half dollars' worth of +milk. The patients grinned at this, and the Surgeon-General +on the platform appeared to be +sorry that so much good milk had gone to waste.</p> + +<p>The terminus of the train was reached at half-past +seven in the evening. There the coaches +were cleared of all patients and the train split in +two to permit of traffic passing. The train-surgeon, +having delivered the valuables of the patients, +walked with me to the naval barracks, +where for the first time in thirty-six hours he had +a chance to really rest.</p> + +<p>"Chin-chin," said he, lifting his glass. "Another +run over, and the Germans have not come +out yet for the real fight."</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> +<h2>X. A TRIP IN A SUBMARINE</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> man who craves excitement is apt to get his +fill for a while after a trip in a British submarine +under the North Sea. He may dream of the +experience for many nights afterwards, and the +lip of the conning-tower well seems to get higher +and higher until the water rushes over like an +incipient Niagara—then he awakens.</p> + +<p>The wind was blowing about 30 knots when +I boarded the mother ship of the submarines in +the English East Coast port. It was an unsettled +sort of morning, and just after I had walked +over two narrow planks to the under-sea craft, +aboard which I was to make a cruise under the +North Sea, the sun shot forth a widening streak +of blurred silver like a searchlight on the prancing +green-grey waves. With care, the two-striper +skipper gave his orders to get the submarine +under way, and soon he stuck her nose at +the east. One felt the frost in the air, and fingers +grasping the canvas shield of the conning +tower were benumbed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> + +<p>Three men stood in line on the aft hatch while +the submersible glided through the port waters. +Four other sailors were getting a last good +lungful of fine fresh sea air for'd. At the conning +tower were the commander, his helmsman, +and a young lieutenant—the boss of the torpedoes. +Now and again another officer popped up +his head through the conning-tower well, and +that opening to the boat's bowels appeared just +about large enough for his broad shoulders. The +nose of the shark-like craft passed through +white-caps as steadily as a ship on a calm ocean.</p> + +<p>"Hands for'd, sir," announced the junior lieutenant.</p> + +<p>The commander mumbled an answer, and the +men were ordered to close the for'd hatches, and +soon the iron doors were screwed down. The gas +engines shot off black smoke into the curdling +wake of the vessel's twin propellers, and as we +surged along into the uninteresting sea the skipper +sang out to have the aft hatches shut. The +well-disciplined bluejackets instantly obeyed the +order, and the iron slabs banged to, and I knew +that those men were busying themselves in their +particular work of seeing that everything was +ready for submerging.</p> + +<p>The commander of the submarine was an agile<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +man, about 5 feet 7 inches tall. His face looked +tired, and there were lines about his eyes, which +were only for his ship. I do not think that he +had the chance to give me a look—a real look—all +the time I was aboard. There was always +something which needed his attention. I found +that the speed we were making against the wind +closed my eyes, for there is very little protection +on the conning tower of a submarine; and that +alone might have given the commander that +tired look. But I gathered afterwards that the +eyes are strained a good deal in looking for enemy +craft. There, in the distance, was the port +whence we had emerged, and we now were out +on the breast of the sea in war time. Two miles +off our port bow was a grey vessel, to which our +skipper gave his attention for a while. She was +a British destroyer plunging through the water +at 22 knots.</p> + +<p>The sun had disappeared behind a bank of +clouds, but there were still streaks of blue in the +sky. The commander shot his gaze aft, to starboard, +port, and before him. Although we were +heading straight out to sea, the skipper was ever +on the alert.</p> + +<p>"Motors ready?" asked the commander of the +sub-lieutenant, whose head showed up from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +well after communicating with the engine-room +chief artificer.</p> + +<p>"Motors ready, sir," was the answer, and the +younger man wrung his cold hands.</p> + +<p>By that time England's coast was a hazy outline. +But on we cut through the waves until +England disappeared, and soon after the real +thrill came—the thrill of going down under an +angry ocean. The gas engines were stopped, and +the way on the craft was allowed to carry her a +good distance, following the order from the +commander.</p> + +<p>That officer looked around, and signalled to a +British destroyer—another of the warships +ploughing the waters of the North Sea. A sailor +expert signalman used his arms as semaphores, +and an answer soon was received by our skipper.</p> + +<p>On the engine-room telegraph of the submarine +is a word that does not figure on the apparatus +of other types of warships: it is "Dive." The +commander told me that we were going down +very soon. I observed that the destroyer had +turned around and was heading out to sea. We +were almost at a stop, when our skipper told me +to get into the conning-tower well and to be +down far enough to give him room. It must be +realised that immediately after the order to submerge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +has been rung in the engine-room the +conning-tower hatch is closed. Hence the commander +and his helmsman have no time to lose +when the submarine is going under, as it takes +forty-five seconds to submerge an under-sea +craft, and at times, if pressed, it can be accomplished +in thirty seconds.</p> + +<p>Up to that time I had not devoted much attention +to the inside of the conning-tower hatch, +beyond glancing at the brass ladder. Soon I discovered +that there were two ladders, and that +the distance to the inside deck of the boat was +about twice as great as I had imagined.</p> + +<p>After I had taken my foot off the last rung of +the ladder and stepped on the chilled, wet canvas-covered +iron deck, my head was in a whirl +at the sight of the bowels of brass and steel. The +skipper had set the arrow at "Dive," and we +were going down and down—a motion which is +hardly perceptible to the layman.</p> + +<p>The activity below and the intricate mechanism +of the craft caused me to think more of what +the men were doing than of my own sensations. +I wondered how one man could learn it all, for +the skipper must have an intimate knowledge of +all the complicated machinery of his vessel. +There were engines everywhere and little standing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +room—at least, that is how it appeared on +the first glance, and even afterwards it was clear +that no adipose person could hope to survive +aboard a submarine.</p> + +<p>No sooner had the engine-room received the +order to submerge than the captain followed his +helmsman down the conning-tower hatch, and +he lost not a second in getting to the periscope—the +eye of his vessel. Soon my attention was +arrested by the sight of two men sitting side by +side turning two large wheels. One kept his eye +on a bubble and turned his wheel to control the +hydroplanes to keep the craft level, and the +other man's eyes also watched a bubble in a +level. His share of the work was to keep the vessel +at the depth ordered by the commander.</p> + +<p>Although I was deeply interested in everything +that went on under the sea in that craft, my +eyes were continually on the captain, who looked +like a photographer about to take the picture of +a wilful baby. The skipper's face was concealed +behind two black canvas wings of the reflector, +which keep the many electric lights aboard from +interfering with his view through the glass. I +then noticed a door in the stern of the craft—about +amid-ships—a door which is closed on the +sight of danger. To me it looked like a reflection,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +but you soon find out that you are looking +at the engines of the submarine. There, four +or five men, ignoring whether they were under +the water or on the surface, were concentrated +on their work. One mistake, and the submarine +and its crew are lost. Hence there is no inattention +to duty. Finally, this door was slammed +to.</p> + +<p>The air below is not much different to what it +is when the vessel is on the surface—or not noticeably +different until the craft has been submerged +for several hours. It is then that the +"bottles" or air tanks are brought into play. I +walked to the bows of the boat, where a giant +torpedo was greased and ready for the shutting +of its compartment. The air-tight tube was then +locked down, and the missile was ready for its +victim. But, as I said, lured as you may be to +gaze at the other parts of the wonderful craft, +you will find that your gaze comes back to the +captain—always at the periscope, hands on those +brass bars that turn the periscope, and eyes glued +to the reflector.</p> + +<p>"Lower periscope!" he orders. And then: +"Raise periscope!" He gives these orders with +clearness; not surprising, as no command must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +be misunderstood when you are 25 or 30 feet under +the water.</p> + +<p>"Lower periscope!"</p> + +<p>A man in a corner, next to one who has charge +of the gyroscopic compass, turns a handle, and +the greased steel cylinder sinks until the captain, +who had been stretched with toes tipped, now is +on bended knees, his hands extended to stop the +periscope man from taking the "eye" further +down. The captain turns the periscope around, +scanning the waters. At his right, when the skipper +is facing the bows, is another officer, with +his hand on the trigger of what looks like an +upward-pointed pistol of brass and steel. This +officer waits for the command to send off the +torpedo.</p> + +<p>"Lower foremost periscope into the well," ordered +the captain. This periscope was not in +use and had not been above the surface. It is +the duplicate "eye," in case the other is out of +order.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the captain, not looking at me, +"she's mostly guts below. Have a look at that +destroyer. We are going to send a practice torpedo +at her, and she will pick it up and return +it when we get back home."</p> + +<p>The sleek, lean warship was knifing the waters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +at 22 knots. It was like looking at a picture—a +moving picture—and all was beautifully distinct. +Our commander consulted a card, decided +the speed of the warship, and then again +propped his head against the reflector.</p> + +<p>"Raise periscope," ordered the two-striper.</p> + +<p>For the first time aboard the submarine, there +was something akin to silence, except for the +swishing of engines and the continuous buzz of +other mechanism.</p> + +<p>"Light to starboard," voiced the captain.</p> + +<p>"Light to starboard," repeated the helmsman +at the compass.</p> + +<p>"Tube ready?" asked the commander, his +head hidden between the black flaps of the periscope.</p> + +<p>"Tube ready, sir."</p> + +<p>The officer at the trigger stood like a starter at +a race, his finger on the tongue that was to release +the torpedo. It was just as it is in the real +moment of moments and a war craft is the target. +The men at the two wheels watched their dials +and their bubbles, and the helmsman had his +nose on the needle. The commander, the gold +braid on his cuffs streaked with oil and rust, +then had but one thought in his mind—to hit +the target. He looked neither to right nor left<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +but was still at the periscope. The warship was +there. We were there, and one could imagine +the tiny periscope just above the water. The +situation was tense, even if the vessel to be fired +at was not an enemy craft.</p> + +<p>"Fire!" snapped the captain.</p> + +<p>It was no order for men to spring "over the +top," no battle-cry that was heard by the enemy, +but the word under the water that is the order +for the deadly destroyer to be released and speed +on its way to the unsuspecting craft. Practice +torpedo or not, when under the waves of the +North Sea the word works up a dramatic situation +hard to equal. The other officers and men +are interested, and they told me that never does +the word "Fire" fail to stir the soul of everybody +aboard. Though the effect is heightened +by the knowledge that a great vessel is the target +and has been bored in twain, the interest is +still thrilling when the submarine is practising. +With a shot at the enemy there is, of course, the +explosion to dread. If the submarine does not +get away far enough, the explosion of the torpedo +may be the cause of extinguishing all lights +aboard the submarine, and lamps have then to +be used.</p> + +<p>There was a tiger-like growl or "g-r-rh" of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +anger as the tube sent out the greased steel complicated +missile, and outside I pictured the white +wake that streaked in the direction of the warship. +It was not visible from the periscope, +which a second after the signal to fire had been +brought down under the surface. The comparative +stillness was gone, and the inside of the +submarine seemed to have awakened from a +doze. There was all bustle and hurry around +me. The captain shot a look at the gyroscopic +compass and gave orders for the motors to go +ahead, and for half an hour the submarine +pushed about under the surface. Then the commander +had the periscope raised, and on the distant +horizon I made out the destroyer—a tiny +thing even in the glass of the magnifying lens +of the under-sea boat's "eye."</p> + +<p>My feet were numbed with cold as I walked +for'd and looked at the empty tube. These torpedoes +cost £500 (two thousand, five hundred +dollars), and in war time they are all set to sink +if they fail to hit the target; set to sink because +they might be used by the enemy or get in our +own way.</p> + +<p>The next thrilling moment came when the +commander decided to bring his craft to the +surface.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come to surface and blow external tanks!" +ordered the two-striper. "Open five, six, seven, +eight, to blow!"</p> + +<p>The round, white perforated lungs of the submarine +sucked in the air in the craft.</p> + +<p>"Open one, two, three, four, to blow," came +from the skipper.</p> + +<p>"One, two, three, four, to blow," I heard +repeated.</p> + +<p>I felt no perceptible motion of ascending; but +those lungs were working hard, which could be +learned by placing your hand over them. The +captain shot a glance at the dial, which told him +how far up his vessel had gone, and then mounted +the conning-hatch ladder, and soon one observed +a spot of daylight. A sea washed over the +submarine, filling the commander's boots with +water. He was followed by a sailor, who quickly +attached the lowered sailcloth bridge to the +rails of the conning tower. Then the captain's +expert and watchful eye caught bubbles coming +from one of the tanks.</p> + +<p>"Close one!" he shouted down the hatch.</p> + +<p>"Close one," repeated the sub-lieutenant.</p> + +<p>"Two, five, and seven," came from the voice +outside, and so on, until soon all the tanks had +pumped out their water and were filled with air;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +and, for the sake of accuracy, each order was +sounded again below.</p> + +<p>"Bring her around to north," said the commander.</p> + +<p>When we submerged it had been a chilly day, +with a peep of the sun every now and again. +The weather had changed since we left our berth +under the sea. The sky was overcast, and snow +was falling. And this change in the weather +had taken place while the captain had been accomplishing +one of Jules Verne's dreams.</p> + +<p>We sped farther out to sea; this time on the +<i>qui vive</i> for enemy craft. But the enemy is careful +not to give the British submarine much of +a chance at his warships, only sneaking out occasionally +under cover of darkness with a couple +of destroyers. Nevertheless, John Bull's diving +boats are ever on the alert; and the man with +whom I went under the North Sea had performed +deeds of daring which never involved +the sinking of a neutral vessel or of endangering +the life of a non-belligerent.</p> + +<p>It was the time for luncheon. Luncheon! +You get an idea that the life aboard a submarine +is not all sunshine and white uniforms when you +see the berth for the commander and his chief +officer. They are just a couple of shelves, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +are not used very often at that. It was explained +to me that when you are running a submarine +you do not go in much for sleep. Luncheon consisted +of a cup of coffee and a piece of canned +beef on a stale slice of bread. Tinned food is +about all that can be used aboard a submarine. +It does not take up much room, and it requires +little in the way of cooking utensils. We were +still having our luncheon below when we dived +again, so for the first time in my life I found +myself having a meal under the sea.</p> + +<p>It was hours afterwards that we slipped into +the darkened harbour and found the mother +ship, where the officers enjoy some of the real +comforts of life.</p> + +<p>"Have a Pandora cocktail?" asked my captain.</p> + +<p>We imbibed joyfully. The commander then +changed his clothes, and we sat down to dinner—a +late dinner, most of the other members of +the mess having finished half an hour before.</p> + +<p>And if you ask me about sensations while +under the water, again I must confess that I was +too busy looking and learning to experience +anything but a fear that I might omit something +of importance during the time the captain was +getting ready for his target. Being under the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +sea, however, gave me a thrill felt long afterwards, +and I left knowing something of the +hardships that England's sea dogs suffer while +guarding their island kingdom.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> +<h2>XI. LIFE IN A LIGHTHOUSE</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> old man led the way to the sturdy stone +structure on top of which were the great horns +which sound the warning in foggy weather to +ships at sea. He was proud of the lighthouse, +of which he was the principal keeper; and just +before he started to explain to me the wonders +of the compressed-air engines, he remarked:—</p> + +<p>"First, you must know that a lighthouse-keeper's +job is to watch for a fog."</p> + +<p>"What's your name?" I asked. He was the +first real lighthouse-keeper I had met.</p> + +<p>The lighthouseman looked at me and then at +one of the coast-watchers. He was a slender man +of about sixty years, who, I had been told, was +enjoying the work he had set out to do long, long +before there was a thought of a great war.</p> + +<p>"T. G. Cutting," he replied, "the P.K. here."</p> + +<p>It was on the western Cornish coast, where, as +in other places in and off English shores, the +lighthouses, war or no war, from sunset to sunrise +cut the darkness with their long beams of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +whiteness and, when necessary, sound the foghorn. +You do not see any young men who are +not in khaki or navy blue, and the old men are +wonders, with their binoculars and telescopes. +Mr. Cutting had been within sound of the sea +ever since he was born. First, he had seen service +on a lighthouse on the rocks, as they say, and +from the rocks he graduated to a land job, and +thence back to the rocks, and again on to the +land. We read stories of the lighthouse-keeper; +but little is written on the modern man of this +species. Mr. Cutting is not accustomed to the +glare of the city's lights, but he knows the glare +of a lighthouse-lantern and all the various wonders +of the work.</p> + +<p>Inside the annex to the lighthouse were the +duplicate engines for filling tanks with compressed +air. This air is used for blowing the +foghorns, and when they sound everybody in the +locality knows it.</p> + +<p>"Enough air is stored in those tanks," declared +Mr. Cutting, "to keep the foghorns going for +twenty minutes. That gives us time to get the +engines running."</p> + +<p>He went into details of the engines, showing +that he knew them by heart, and I could almost +imagine the blurring, deafening sound which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +for seven seconds rent the air through the roar +of winds every minute and a half.</p> + +<p>"Fog, as you know, is the dread of every sea +captain," said Mr. Cutting. "Out yonder you see +the 'Three Stone Orr Rocks.' This is a dangerous +bit of scenery in foggy weather. When we +have a fog, two men are on duty; one if it is +clear."</p> + +<p>We then went to the lighthouse tower, which +stands nearly 200 feet above high water. To the +right, on entering that building, was a blacksmith's +shop, with an anvil, forge, and various +implements. This forge is occasionally needed +to make repairs, spare parts, and accessories of +the engines of the lighthouse. To the right, in a +corridor, were speaking-tubes.</p> + +<p>"Those tubes go to the bedside of every man +employed here," said Mr. Cutting. "We have +only to blow, and in a few minutes he comes up +to the lighthouse. Our houses are over there, in +the same structure as the tower. They are practically +the lower portion of the main building."</p> + +<p>He conducted the way up the narrow, winding +stairs. At the head of the first flight I saw a +green-covered book, in which every man on +watch makes his entry of the weather, the velocity +of the wind, and so forth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Many a man's word has been corrected by +that book," said the P.K. "And here's the book +for privileged visitors, for nobody comes here +without the proper credentials."</p> + +<p>There were names of famous persons inscribed +in the book, which was kept as neatly and cleanly +as everything else in the place.</p> + +<p>"Now we'll go up to the lantern," said the old +man. Old, but lithe, strong, and keen-eyed. +He is particularly fond of this lantern, and was +remarkably lucid in explaining everything concerning +the working of it.</p> + +<p>"Does the sea ever come up as high as this?" +I asked.</p> + +<p>"We get the spray, and that is all," answered +the P.K. "It's dirty weather when that happens. +But the water usually has spent its force +when it reaches this height."</p> + +<p>The exterior windows of the lantern were diamond +shaped and of plate glass. In the middle +of the lantern was the large concentric-ringed +glass of great magnifying power.</p> + +<p>"You can turn it round with your little finger," +said the P.K. "That's because it floats in +a mercury bath. And in turning that you are +moving four tons. When the lantern is lighted, +it shows dark for seven and a half seconds, then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +two sets of four flashes, making a complete revolution +every half-minute. They can see the +light at sea on a clear night for nineteen miles. +The light is worked by vaporised oil. The compressed +air drives the oil to the lantern, up +through that burner in a hole hardly big enough +to take a pin point. It is nearly half a million +candle-power. This type of light is considered +even better than electricity. In the old-style oil-lights +they burned five quarts in the same time +that this one consumes a pint with better results."</p> + +<p>The actual burner of the lantern is disappointing, +as one expects to see a giant burner. Really, +it is only about twice the size of the average +household one.</p> + +<p>Mr. Cutting observed that the light was carefully +timed, and called attention to the half-minute +hand on the clock in the tower. Persons +are always asking the P.K. how he spends his +time, and he wondered why. He believed that +anybody ought to see that there was plenty for +a man to do while he is on a four hours' watch +in the tower. The turning of the light, showing +black outside and then flashing its warnings, +after his many years of experience of such +things, is only taken for granted by this P.K.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And when I've finished lighting the lamp, +trimming up things a bit," said the P.K., "I sit +down like anybody else. Lots of people seem to +forget that the lighthouse-keeper is not the coast-guard +or the head of the crew of a life-saving +station. They have their work to attend to, but +we watch for fogs night and day. When a man +is stationed at a lighthouse like the Longships, +which is a little distance out on a rock, he may be +a couple of months without being relieved. But +he has others with him, and a good stock of food. +If he wishes to communicate with the land, he +does so by signals; and that's the way men over +there talk with their wives who live in cottages +on shore. The telephone has not been found +feasible, wires breaking all the time; so their +wives have learned to wig-wag to them.</p> + +<p>"One night they got a scare on shore; thought +that the men on the Longships were sending up +distress signals. It was bad weather, and every +now and again the coast-watcher saw a green +light on the Longships. And what do you think +that green light was? Just the water running +over the bright light when it flashed! As it +washed the glasses it showed up green."</p> + +<p>There were curtains of sailcloth put over the +windows to obscure the sunlight. I asked the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +P.K. about this, and he told me that the great +magnifying lens of the light would burn things +if the sun got on it for long enough. So, much +as they like the sun in Cornwall, they have to +keep it out.</p> + +<p>"I shall be on duty to-night from twelve until +four o'clock," observed the P.K. "But I've got +accustomed to the running of the machinery."</p> + +<p>So down we went. The last I saw of the P.K. +was when the old Cornishman, emptying cans of +oil into the tank to supply the light which warns +mariners, shouted:—</p> + +<p>"Getting pretty fresh now. Hope to see you +again."</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> +<h2>XII. WATCHERS OF THE COAST</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Circling</span> Great Britain are thousands of expert +coast-watchers, whose duty not only is to watch +for ships, wrecks, and smugglers, as in the days +before the war, but also to be on guard for enemy +submarines and suspicious craft. It is the oft-spoken +opinion of many an inland inhabitant +that certain sections of the coast would afford +a base for U-boats. However, these persons have +no conception of the thoroughness with which +John Bull guards his coast-lines. Mile after +mile, shores and rocks are under the eye of alert +navy men and volunteers, the latter being civilians +who have spent their lives by the sea. They +know their business, and even though they are +volunteers, the discipline is rigid. But they are +not the type of men to shirk their duty, for they +would take it as missing a God-given opportunity +if their eyes were closed at the time they +could help their country most. After travelling +around part of the coast-line, a stranger leaves +with the opinion that there is little chance for a +man even to swim ashore under cover of night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>From John o' Groat's to Land's End and all +around Ireland, these coast-watchers—men over +military age, wiry and strong, with eyes like ferrets—scan +the rocks and beaches hour after hour, +noting passing vessels, receiving and detailing +information, and always keeping up communication +with the ring and its various centres. +Their little stone huts are on the highest point +in their particular area, and their homes usually +are only a couple of hundred yards distant. +Their chiefs are coast-guards of the old days +called back to their former service in the Royal +Navy. These men rule the volunteers with a +rod of iron. No matter what section of the coast +one may pick, the coast-watcher is ready with +his glasses or telescope. Suspicious acts of any +individuals receive speedy attention, and each +batch of the guards vies with the next for keen +performance of duty.</p> + +<p>There is a halo of interest around these men, +tame as their work may appear to them at times. +Take the watchers on the Scilly Isles, for instance. +They are as good as any around Great +Britain. It is second nature for them to watch +the sea. It is a desire with them, something they +would not miss. Their fathers, grandfathers, +and great-grandfathers were watch-dogs on that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +area of the ocean. Go to St. Mary's, and you +will see a coast-watcher, up soon after dawn, +take a stroll along the beach, even when he is +not supposed to be on duty and before he has +tasted his morning tea. The family telescope +is at his eye, as he wants to get a good look at +what the sea has been doing, and what is there. +To the uninitiated, it seems to have the same +paucity of interest as any other shipless stretch of +water; but to this expert it has a story. He +notes the clouds, the sun, the very rocks; and +they say that his gaze is so sharp that it would +spot a champagne-cork floating some distance +away. But be that as it may, there is no enemy +periscope that is going to pass unobserved at a +certain distance by this hawk-eyed, wind-seared +man.</p> + +<p>He goes to his cottage for breakfast, and talks +about the sea, then leaves the table, and has +another good look; and it is sadly disappointing +to any of these men to have missed a passing ship. +Prior to the declaration of hostilities, a wreck +was the greatest piece of news to the community; +but now it is the glimpse of fast English warships, +and the anticipation of sighting a German +U-boat, and thus being the cause of the craft's +doom.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Gun-firing heard at ten minutes past twelve +o'clock to-day," said one man, reading from a +slip he had just made out on the subject.</p> + +<p>The man to whom he spoke happened to have +been out of hearing distance, and he could not +believe it until a second man came along with +the same report. It was handed down the line, +over to other shores, and the watchers speculated +as to what had taken place.</p> + +<p>Arthur Oddy, who has charge of half a dozen +watchers, told me that his one great regret was +that he had not seen a sign of the war, barring +uniforms. Nevertheless, for more than two and +a half years he has scanned the sea and shore +of his district with dutiful care, and has seen +to it that his men have not been amiss in their +share of the tedious task. His station is very +near the Last House in England, at Land's End—a +tea place kept by Mrs. E. James.</p> + +<p>"What is that out there?" exclaimed a stranger, +suddenly. "Looks like part of a boat."</p> + +<p>"That," declared Oddy, "is the Shark's Fin—a +rock."</p> + +<p>True enough, the rock of that name might +have at times been a giant fish or a wrecked submarine. +It was lashed by the foamy waters, disappeared, +and then showed a bit, again was swallowed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +up, and seemed to reappear a yard or so +further along from where it first was seen. Finally, +you observed that it was a sharp, dangerous +rock.</p> + +<p>A mile or so farther along that coast I encountered +John Thomas Wheeler, the wearer of several +medals, including a gold one received since +the war commenced from the King of Sweden. +In peace time, just before the war, Wheeler did +his bit to save wrecked mariners. He is still +doing it in war time, with his eyes open for +everything. As we stood there, with the sea +lashing the shingly beach and hammering the +rocks, Wheeler, chief officer of that station, recalled +the story of the wreck of the <i>Trifolium</i>, +a Swedish sailing ship.</p> + +<p>"It was terrible rough," said Wheeler, "when +through the darkness we saw the green light of +the distress-signals. I shot off a rocket with a +rope to the forepart of the vessel. The men, +who were clinging to the rigging, paid no attention +to it. Then I sent off another rope between +the main and the mizzen masts. First, +they paid no heed to that; but, finally, one man +in oilskins jumped into the sea to catch hold of +part of the rope. He was followed by others. +Perilous though it was on that night, we walked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +out to help the men ashore. One after another, +gasping and unconscious sailors were landed. +Then the ship broke in half, and soon was torn +to bits by the sea. I was looking for more men, +as I had seen one poor chap under the steel mast +when it fell. A wave struck me, and I found +myself caught between two rocks. It looked all +up for me, as I could not move."</p> + +<p>Wheeler's awful position was not at first +realised, and his cries for help could not be +heard through the din of the ocean. Finally, +he was struck down by the turbulent sea, and +one of his men, signalling to another, went to +their chief's rescue. Wheeler was unconscious +when he was brought up on the beach. For his +share in the rescue work, besides the King of +Sweden's medal, Wheeler received medals from +the Royal Humane Society and the Board of +Trade.</p> + +<p>In that corner of England every one is on +the <i>qui vive</i> for the unexpected. The women +have their telescopes and glasses, and they do +their share, despite the fact that the regular +men of that locality are on duty. Mrs. James's +tea-refreshment place is often the near-by house +to where men are scanning the horizon with +their glasses, noting the flags on vessels, if they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +have any in these days, and keeping up a peace-time +look out, for it is a dangerous point in bad +weather. The Last or First House in England, +whichever one wishes to consider it, is covered +with names and initials of persons from all over +the world. Curiously enough, since the war +there have been no wrecks in that theatre, while +in the six months prior to the great conflict there +were two or three.</p> + +<p>Local heads of the coast-watchers or guards +have the prerogative of commandeering horses +or automobiles when necessary. If there is a +ship ashore or on the rocks, signal-rockets are +sent up to collect the coast-guards; and it would +seem that a couple of these would wake most of +the persons in that corner of England.</p> + +<p>The real business of the coast-guards, and that +to which they devote themselves in peace or war, +is firing rockets over a ship in distress and trying +to land the crew.</p> + +<p>It was ten or twelve miles from that point that +I met a chief watcher who had been blown up in +a British battleship, and had thus earned a period +of shore duty. He was "carrying on" for +humanity and country, and only a short time before +he had been the means of rescuing the crew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +of a small neutral sailing ship—a German victim.</p> + +<p>We sped on farther north, and every three or +four miles there was the inevitable watcher, who +can telephone, telegraph, and fire rockets when +occasion demands. It is all a modernised coast-guard +system, the men being first ready for ships +in distress, but always on the alert for the enemy.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> +<h2>XIII. CROSSING THE CHANNEL IN WAR TIME</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">This</span> is the story of a British naval officer's trip +to the Western fighting ground as he told it to +me the day he returned to London:—</p> + +<p>"'Four days!' said I to myself. 'Not very +long in which to get a real taste of the World +War on land.' However, the morning after I +had received 'leave' I departed from London +in an automobile and as we sped through the +country there seemed, at first, to be little to remind +us that England was at war—except, perhaps, +the many busy persons on all farms and +fields. Finally, we came across a mobile air-station +on which were two aeroplanes with folded +wings. It was something which made you think.</p> + +<p>"In a South Coast port, however, there was +military activity everywhere. On the waters, +far out from the harbour, which one imagines as +denuded of craft, I saw dozens of ships. There +were large and small tramps, mine-sweepers, +and trawlers, and you were fascinated by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +sight. There was a dread lest one of them might +disappear through a mine or a torpedo any instant.</p> + +<p>"Thousands of soldiers were at the dock, waiting +to embark on ships for France. A couple of +thousand of them belonged to the Scotch Labour +Battalion, ready for work with pick and shovel. +Their speech was almost like a foreign language +as they 'Jock'd' and 'Donal'd,' joked and sang, +when they swung aboard the vessel in single +file.</p> + +<p>"There was no waving of handkerchiefs and +no shouting good-byes when the black-and-tan +craft was ready to leave. The skipper was on +the bridge. He looked down at an officer ashore, +nodded his head, and the other returned the +nod. Hawsers were instantly slipped, and the +steamer skipped away from the British port on +the minute, and soon met her escort—destroyers, +out of sight not long since, now ready for +their job. These slender speedsters of the sea +never stop; so everything must be done according +to schedule. Four of the destroyers surrounded +us as we ploughed through the water.</p> + +<p>"From the bridge came the order for every +soul aboard to put on a life-belt, and our friends +from Scotland hastened aft to obtain the equipment,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +scurrying and bustling about the damp +cabin for the best belts.</p> + +<p>"Half-way across the straits we met the opposite +number vessel to ours. She had an escort +of three warships, so that for a flash there +were seven destroyers on the breast of that water. +But it was not for long. A swish, and they +were nearer England and we nearer France, +they getting some of our smoke and we some of +theirs. Steamers go into the French port stern +first, and soon I found myself treading French +soil. Our Scotch labourers were hurried off the +vessel, and they vanished with extraordinary +quickness; and this also reminds me that no +sooner was our steamship safe in the harbour +than the warships nipped off to England, and +all you could see in a few minutes was a wreath +of water and smoke as they raced homewards.</p> + +<p>"The skipper of the passenger craft has seen +exciting times. While I stood on the bridge +with him and his first officer, he told me of a +night he won't easily forget. He was running the +<i>Queen</i>, and going over empty, having smuggled +aboard a staff officer who had missed the other +vessel. It was darkening, and the <i>Queen</i> was +about four miles off the British coast when this +skipper saw dark hulls, blanched lines, and flaming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +funnels—all showing terrific speed. First, +he took the strange craft to be new French destroyers; +but they hailed him in English, and, of +course, for an instant he thought then they were +British warships, when suddenly it dawned on +him. 'By God, they're Germans!' he ejaculated +to the staff officer. 'Nip into the cabin, and get +those clothes off and into an oilskin, fast as you +like.'</p> + +<p>"The army man got it done just in time, for +an officer and two men from one of the German +destroyers sprang aboard the <i>Queen</i> after the +enemy warship had bumped the passenger craft. +The German demanded the captain's papers, +and was told that everything had been thrown +overboard.</p> + +<p>"The Germans were pale, and the pistol in +the officer's hand shook dangerously. The skipper +declared that the only papers relating to the +<i>Queen</i> were in his cabin.</p> + +<p>"'Get those papers, or I'll blow your head +off,' said the German. Below, the captain +moved his hand to his hip pocket to get his keys, +the German started, and put the muzzle of his +revolver close to the Britisher's head. As the +captain was unlocking a drawer, the German +again became suspicious, and warned the skipper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +The Briton told the German to get the +papers himself, and, finally, the useless document +relating to the <i>Queen</i> was taken from the +drawer. It was snatched up and pocketed by +the German officer. Meanwhile, his men had +fixed bombs in vital parts aboard the passenger +craft, and the order was given to abandon ship.</p> + +<p>"Just before the bang came and the <i>Queen</i> +sank, the German decided that he wanted to take +the skipper with him. Fortunately, the captain +had been missed in their tremulous excitement. +However, the Germans could not wait, and they +had to go away without the skipper. It was an +experience no man would forget; and the British +of it is that this same man, who had a pretty +good chance of spending many months in a German +prison camp, is still guiding vessels flying +our flag from France to England and England +to France.</p> + +<p>"In Boulogne, I had to take a train for Paris. +It was the longest train I ever set eyes on. One +end of it seemed to be in the dock station while +the other was on the outskirts of the town. You +can get an idea of its length when I say that it +had to stop twice at all stations. There was no +attempt at speed until we got within twenty +miles of Paris."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> + +<p>In a railroad station in Paris this officer encountered +a friend who was a commander in the +Royal Naval Air Service, and the traveller +thereupon decided that nobody could give him +a better idea of the war in the brief time at his +disposal than this man. Hence, after a dash to +the hotel and taking chances of getting his suitcase, +the sea-fighter, with only a tooth-brush and +a piece of soap, finally joined the flying man, +and off they went to the war. My naval friend +continued:—</p> + +<p>"War stared at us after we had passed through +Chantilly, and on the way to Amiens we sped by +forty or fifty ambulances. It was at the Café +Gobert, in Amiens, that we got out of the automobile +and had luncheon. That town was +thronged with nonchalant women and blue-clad +poilus. Following our refreshment, we continued +our journey. We ran into soldiers and +guns, aeroplanes, and more guns of all calibres; +there must have been two miles of them in one +batch that we passed on the way to Arras, as +well as 'umpty' parks of lorries.</p> + +<p>"The first steam engine that I got a chance of +seeing since leaving England was an antiquated +London, Chatham, and Dover locomotive attached +to a long train of cars filled with provisions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +and so forth, helped out by Belgian and +French engines. The rail-head, not far from +that particular 'somewhere,' reminded me of +Whiteley's shop in London. Then I observed +a dozen fire-engines painted khaki colour. +There were officers' baths, coal and wood on lorries, +tents, and everything you can think of—and +a lot you can't. Ammunition dumps were +on our right and left, and the occasional gleam +of a sentry's bayonet let you know that somebody +was on watch.</p> + +<p>"As I was the guest of the Royal Naval Air +Service, it was naturally gratifying to come to +the home of that service or section of it; the spot +which had been barren land two days before +was now the scene of great activity. Mess tents +were comfortably fixed up, electric light being +obtained from lorries. There were workshops +on lorries. The Royal Flying Corps also had a +station near by. These ingenious Air Service +men do all their repairing on the spot. If a +lorry gets stuck in the mud they just use enough +lorries until they pull it out.</p> + +<p>"Our Rolls-Royce darted into the air on one +stretch of bad road. It bumped out our dynamo, +and we made the rest of the way along the dark +road behind a staff car.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + +<p>"By that time there was no doubt but that we +were at the war—passing between two lines of +our heavy artillery on the snow covered ground. +The splashes of fire—red on the glistening white—formed +a memorable picture.</p> + +<p>"Every now and again, the snow was lighted +up by the star-shells, which hung in the air and +then dropped like a rain of gold on the silver +ground. The thunder of the guns was pleasing, +and as each shell sped on its errand, the unforgettable +scene became more beautiful, with the +glow from the star-shells and the sight of men, +silhouetted in the temporary light against the +white-blanketed earth, going about their duty, as +some of them had done for more than two and a +half years. On we dashed, until we heard a +challenging voice, and discerned a French poilu.</p> + +<p>"'Aviation anglaise,' announced my friend. +After satisfying himself, the sentry permitted us +to continue on our way. A little further on, to +our chagrin, we learned that a lorry had broken +down on a bridge, and that if our car could not +pass it, it would mean a detour of nine miles. +However, our excellent chauffeur was equal to +the occasion. After bending the mud-guards, +following the taking of measurements, he drove<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +the machine over in safety with not half an inch +to spare.</p> + +<p>"Guns boomed as they had been booming for +thirty months. This gives you food for thought +at the front. Finally, we came to Dunkirk, and +there enjoyed uninterrupted repose after our +long ride in the biting weather. Next morning +I was up early, and before I had breakfast I +watched a seaplane turning and twisting, riding +first tail downward and then head downward, +dropping a thousand feet, and then righting itself, +and outdoing the looping-the-loop idea. +I ventured commendation for this pilot's exploits.</p> + +<p>"'Pretty good youngster,' said the commander. +'Soon be able to give him a journey +he's been longing to have.'</p> + +<p>"This <i>youngster</i> certainly seemed to me a past +master in the flying art.</p> + +<p>"My interest next was centred on several +barges probing their way through the canal. +They were manned by soldiers in khaki, and +these soldier-sailors belonged to the I.W.T.—the +Inland Water Transport.</p> + +<p>"Later, I had the satisfaction of firing off one +of the big guns at the Huns, and then of going +into an observation post from whence we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +watched shells bursting on the German lines. +The Germans were fairly silent, while we were +putting over quite a lot of stuff. My next shot +at the Boche was with 'Polly,' whose shell spat +forth at her opposite number, known on our +side of the lines as 'Peanought.'</p> + +<p>"It was decidedly interesting in the trenches, +almost as near the German lines as we are at any +point. There was the occasional thunder of the +artillery, coupled with the report of a rifle, +which told that the sniper was on the job, and +now and again the 'bang-zizz' of the German +trench mortar projectile—known better as 'Minnie.'</p> + +<p>"At the seaplane station I met a young officer +who two days before had flown over from England +in the early morning and was to dine that +same night with friends in London. His only +worry was that he might possibly miss the boat +to take him back to keep the dinner engagement. +Then there was a young man—eighteen years +old, to be specific—who had accounted for thirteen +of the enemy aeroplanes.</p> + +<p>"My next experience was aboard a destroyer +which took me to England. I had not worn an +overcoat during my trip, but I was glad of a +duffel coat on that speedy craft."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<p>The commander glanced at his watch, and +observed he had just half an hour in which to get +to King's Cross Station.</p> + +<div class="trn"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> +Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Some Naval Yarns, by Mordaunt Hall + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOME NAVAL YARNS *** + +***** This file should be named 26474-h.htm or 26474-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/4/7/26474/ + +Produced by Stephen Blundell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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