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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #60196 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60196)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Full Speed Ahead, by Henry B. Beston
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Full Speed Ahead
- Tales from the Log of a Correspondent with Our Navy
-
-Author: Henry B. Beston
-
-Release Date: August 29, 2019 [EBook #60196]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FULL SPEED AHEAD ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Al Haines
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-[Frontispiece: "A destroyer is by no means a paradise of comfort"]
-
-
-
-
- FULL SPEED
- AHEAD
-
- Tales from the Log of a Correspondent
- with Our Navy
-
-
- BY
-
- HENRY B. BESTON
-
-
-
- GARDEN CITY NEW YORK
- DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
- 1919
-
-
-
-
- Copyright, 1919, by
- DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
- All rights reserved, including that of
- translation into foreign languages,
- including the Scandinavian
-
- Copyright, 1918, by The Atlantic Monthly Company
- Copyright, 1918, by The Curtis Publishing Company
- Copyright, 1918, by The North American Review Pub. Co,
- Copyright, 1918, by The American National Red Cross
- Copyright, 1918, by The Outlook Company
-
-
-
-
- To
- MAJOR GEORGE MAURICE SHEAHAN
- HARVARD UNIT R.A.M.C.
-
- A Forerunner of the Great Crusade.
-
-
-
-
-PREFACE
-
-These tales are memories of several months spent as a special
-correspondent attached to the forces of the American Navy on foreign
-service. Many of the little stories are personal experiences, though
-some are "written up" from the records and others set down after
-interviews. In writing them, I have not sought the laurels of an
-official historian, but been content to chronicle the interesting
-incidents of the daily life as well as the achievements and heroisms
-of the friends who keep the highways of the sea.
-
-To my hosts of the United States Navy one and all, I am under deep
-obligation for the courtesy and hospitality everywhere extended to me
-on my visit. But surely the greatest of my obligations is that owed
-to Secretary Daniels for the personal permission which made possible
-my journey? and for the good will with which he saw me on my way.
-And no acknowledgment, no matter how studied or courtly its phrasing,
-can express what I owe to Admiral Sims for the friendliness of my
-reception, for his care that I be shown all the Navy's activities,
-and for his constant and kindly effort to advance my work in every
-possible way. To Admiral Hugh Rodman of the battleship squadron, his
-sometime guest here renders thanks for the opportunity given him to
-spend some ten days aboard the American flagship and for the welcome
-which makes his stay aboard so pleasant a memory.
-
-To the following officers, also, am I much indebted: Captain, now
-Admiral Hughes, Captain J. R. Poinsett Pringle, Chief of Staff at the
-Irish Base, Captain Thomas Hart, Chief of Staff directing submarine
-operations, Commander Babcock and Commander Daniels, both of Admiral
-Sims' staff, Commander Bryant and Commander Carpender, both of
-Captain Pringle's staff, Commander Henry W. Cooke and Commander
-Wilson Brown, both of the destroyer flotilla, Lieutenant Horace H.
-Jalbert of the U.S.S. Bushnell, Lieutenant Commander Morton L. Deyo,
-Chaplain J. L. Neff, Lieutenant F. H. King, Lieutenant Lanman,
-Lieutenant Herrick, and Lieutenant Lewis Hancock, Lieutenant George
-Hood and Lieutenant Bumpus of our submarines.
-
-I would not end without a word of thanks to the enlisted men for
-their unfailing good will and ever courteous behaviour.
-
-To Mr. Ellery Sedgwick of the _Atlantic Monthly_, under whose colours
-I had the honour to make my journalistic cruise, I am indebted for
-more friendly help, counsel and encouragement than I shall ever be
-able to repay. And I shall not easily forget the kindly offices and
-unfailing hospitality of Captain Luke C. Doyle of Washington, D.C.,
-and Mr. Sidney A. Mitchell of the London Committee of the United
-States Food Administration.
-
-Lucky is the correspondent sent to the Navy!
-
-H. B. B.
-
-TOPSFIELD AND QUINCY, 1919
-
-
-
-
- CONTENTS
-
- Preface
- I An Heroic Journey
- II Into the Dark
- III Friend or Foe?
- IV Running Submerged
- V The Return of the Captains
- VI Our Sailors
- VII The Base
- VIII The Destroyer and Her Problem
- IX Torpedoed
- X The End of a Submarine
- XI "Fishing"
- XII Amusements
- XIII Storm
- XIV On Night Patrol
- XV Camouflage
- XVI Tragedy
- XVII "Consolidation not Coöperation"
- XVIII Machine against Machine
- XIX The Legend of Kelley
- XX Sons of the Trident
- XXI The Fleet
- XXII The American Squadron
- XXIII To Sea with the Fleet
- XXIV "Sky Pilots"
- XXV In the Wireless Room
- XXVI Marines
- XXVII Ships of the Air
- XXVIII The Sailor in London
- XXIX The Armed Guard
- XXX Going Aboard
- XXXI Grain
- XXXII Collision
- XXXIII The Raid by the River
- XXXIV On Having been both a Soldier and a Sailor
-
-
-
-
-ILLUSTRATIONS
-
-"A destroyer is by no means a paradise of comfort" . . .
-_Frontispiece_
-
-A flock of submarines and the "mother" ship in harbour
-
-American destroyer on patrol
-
-The last of a German U-boat
-
-To enjoy their leisure between watches these officers of an American
-destroyer lash themselves into their seats
-
-An American battleship fleet leaving the harbour
-
-Even a super-dreadnought is wet at times
-
-An American gun crew in heavy weather (winter) outfit
-
-
-
-
-FULL SPEED AHEAD
-
-
-I
-
-AN HEROIC JOURNEY
-
-A London day of soft and smoky skies darkened every now and then by
-capricious and intrusive little showers was drawing to a close in a
-twilight of gold and grey. Our table stood in a bay of plate glass
-windows over-looking the embankment close by Cleopatra's needle; we
-watched the little, double-decked tram cars gliding by, the opposing,
-interthreading streams of pedestrians, and a fleet of coal barges
-coming up the river solemn as a cloud. Behind us lay, splendid and
-somewhat theatric, the mottled marble, stiff, white napery, and
-bright silver of a fashionable dining hall. Only a few guests were
-at hand. At our little table sat the captain of a submarine who was
-then in London for a few days on richly merited leave, a
-distinguished young officer of the "mother ship" accompanying our
-under water craft, and myself. It is impossible to be long with
-submarine folk without realizing that they are a people apart,
-differing from the rest of the Naval personnel even as their vessels
-differ. A man must have something individual to his character to
-volunteer for the service, and every officer is a volunteer. An
-extraordinary power of quick decision, a certain keen, resolute look,
-a certain carriage; submarine folk are such men as all of us pray to
-have by our side in any great trial or crisis of our life.
-
-Guests began to come by twos and threes, girls in pretty shimmering
-dresses, young army officers with wound stripes and clumsy limps; a
-faint murmur of conversation rose, faint and continuous as the murmur
-of a distant stream.
-
-Because I requested him, the captain told me of the crossing of the
-submarines. It was the epic of an heroic journey.
-
-"After each boat had been examined in detail, we began to fill them
-with supplies for the voyage. The crew spent days manoeuvring cases
-of condensed milk, cans of butter, meat, and chocolate down the
-hatchways, food which the boat swallowed up as if she had been a kind
-of steel stomach. Until we had it all neatly and tightly stowed
-away, the Z looked like a corner grocery store. Then early one
-December morning we pulled out of the harbour. It wasn't very cold,
-merely raw and damp, and it was misty dark. I remember looking at
-the winter stars riding high just over the meridian. The port behind
-us was still and dead, but a handful of navy folk had come to one of
-the wharves to see us off. Yes, there was something of a stir, you
-know the kind of stir that's made when boats go to sea, shouted
-orders, the splash of dropped cables, vagrant noises. It didn't take
-a great time to get under way; we were ready, waiting for the word to
-go. The flotilla, mother-ship, tugs and all, was out to sea long
-before the dawn. You would have liked the picture, the immense
-stretch of the greyish, winter-stricken sea, the little covey of
-submarines running awash, the grey mother-ship going ahead casually
-as an excursion steamer into the featureless dawn. The weather was
-wonderful for two days, a touch of Indian summer on December's ocean,
-then on the night of the third day we ran into a blow, the worst I
-ever saw in my life. A storm.... Oh boy!"
-
-He paused for an instant to flick the ashes from his cigarette with a
-neat, deliberate gesture. One could see memories living in the fine,
-resolute eyes. The broken noises of the restaurant which had
-seemingly died away while he spoke crept back again to one's ears. A
-waiter dropped a clanging fork.
-
-"A storm. Never remember anything like it. A perfect terror.
-Everybody realized that any attempt to keep together would be
-hopeless. And night was coming on. One by one the submarines
-disappeared into that fury of wind and driving water; the mothership,
-because she was the largest vessel in the flotilla, being the last we
-saw. We snatched her last signal out of the teeth of the gale, and
-then she was gone, swallowed up in the storm. So we were alone.
-
-We got through the night somehow or other. The next morning the
-ocean was a dirty brown-grey, and knots and wisps of cloud were
-tearing by close over the water. Every once in a while a great,
-hollow-bellied wave would come rolling out of the hullaballoo and
-break thundering over us. On all the boats the lookout on the bridge
-had to be lashed in place, and every once in a while a couple of tons
-of water would come tumbling past him. Nobody at the job stayed dry
-for more than three minutes; a bathing suit would have been more to
-the point than oilers. Shaken, you ask? No, not very bad, a few
-assorted bruises and a wrenched thumb, though poor Jonesie on the Z3
-had a wave knock him up against the rail and smash in a couple of
-ribs. But no being sick for him, he kept to his feet and carried on
-in spite of the pain, in spite of being in a boat which registered a
-roll of seventy degrees. I used to watch the old hooker rolling
-under me. You've never been on a submarine when she's rolling--talk
-about rolling--oh boy! We all say seventy degrees because that's as
-far as our instruments register. There were times when I almost
-thought she was on her way to make a complete revolution. You can
-imagine what it was like inside. To begin with, the oily air was
-none too sweet, because every time we opened a hatch we shipped
-enough water to make the old hooker look like a start at a swimming
-tank, and then she was lurching so continuously and violently that to
-move six feet was an expedition. But the men were wonderful,
-wonderful! Each man at his allotted task, and--what's that English
-word, ... carrying on. Our little cook couldn't do a thing with the
-stove, might as well have tried to cook on a miniature earthquake,
-but he saw that all of us had something to eat, doing his bit, game
-as could be."
-
-He paused again. The embankment was fading in the dark. A waiter
-appeared, and drew down the thick, light-proof curtains.
-
-"Yes, the men were wonderful--wonderful. And there wasn't very much
-sickness. Let's see, how far had I got--since it was impossible to
-make any headway we lay to for forty-eight hours. The deck began to
-go the second morning, some of the plates being ripped right off.
-And blow--well as I told you in the beginning, I never saw anything
-like it. The disk of the sea was just one great, ragged mass of foam
-all being hurled through space by a wind screaming by with the voice
-and force of a million express trains. Perhaps you are wondering why
-we didn't submerge. Simply couldn't use up our electricity. It
-takes oil running on the surface to create the electric power, and we
-had a long, long journey ahead. Then ice began to form on the
-superstructure, and we had to get out a crew to chop it off. It was
-something of a job; there wasn't much to hang on to, and the waves
-were still breaking over us. But we freed her of the danger, and she
-went on.
-
-We used to wonder where the other boys were in the midst of all the
-racket. One was drifting towards the New England coast, her compass
-smashed to flinders; others had run for Bermuda, others were still at
-sea.
-
-Then we had three days of good easterly wind. By jingo, but the good
-weather was great, were we glad to have it--oh boy! We had just got
-things ship-shape again when we had another blow but this second one
-was by no means as bad as the first. And after that we had another
-spell of decent weather. The crew used to start the phonograph and
-keep it going all day long.
-
-The weather was so good that I decided to keep right on to the
-harbour which was to be our base over here. I had enough oil, plenty
-of water, the only possible danger was a shortage of provisions. So
-I put us all on a ration, arranging to have the last grand meal on
-Christmas day. Can you imagine Christmas on a little, storm-bumped
-submarine some hundred miles off the coast? A day or two more and we
-ran calmly into ... Shall we say deleted harbour?
-
-Hungry, dirty, oh so dirty, we hadn't had any sort of bath or wash
-for about three weeks; we all were green looking from having been
-cooped up so long, and our unshaven, grease-streaked faces would have
-upset a dinosaur. The authorities were wonderfully kind and looked
-after us and our men in the very best style. I thought we could
-never stop eating and a real sleep, ... oh boy!
-
-"Did you fly the flag as you came in?" I asked.
-
-"You bet we did!" answered the captain, his keen, handsome face
-lighting at the memory. "You see," he continued in a practical
-spirit, "they would probably have pumped us full of holes if we
-hadn't."
-
-And that is the way that the American submarines crossed the Atlantic
-to do their share for the Great Cause.
-
-
-
-
-II
-
-INTO THE DARK
-
-I got to the Port of the Submarines just as an uncertain and rainy
-afternoon had finally decided to turn into a wild and disagreeable
-night. Short, drenching showers of rain fell one after the other
-like the strokes of a lash, a wind came up out of the sea, and one
-could hear the thunder of surf on the headlands. The mother ship lay
-moored in a wild, desolate and indescribably romantic bay; she
-floated in a sheltered pool a very oasis of modernity, a marvellous
-creature of another world and another time. There was just light
-enough for me to see that her lines were those of a giant yacht.
-Then a curtain of rain beat hissing down upon the sea, and the ship
-and the vague darkening landscape disappeared, disappeared as if it
-might have melted away in the shower. Presently the bulk of the
-vessel appeared again: gliding and tossing at once we drew alongside,
-and from that moment on, I was the guest of the vessel, recipient of
-a hospitality and courtesy for which I here make grateful
-acknowledgment to my friends and hosts.
-
-The mother ship of the submarines was a combination of flag ship,
-supply station, repair shop and hotel. The officers of the
-submarines had rooms aboard her which they occupied when off patrol,
-and the crews off duty slung their hammocks 'tween decks. The boat
-was pretty well crowded, having more submarines to look after than
-she had been built to care for, but thanks to the skill of her
-officers, everything was going as smoothly as could be. The vessel
-had, so to speak, a submarine atmosphere. Everybody aboard lived,
-worked and would have died for the submarine. They believed in the
-submarine, believed in it with an enthusiasm which rested on pillars
-of practical fact. The Chief of Staff was the youngest captain in
-our Navy, a man of hard energy and keen insight, one to whom our
-submarine service owes a very genuine debt. His officers were
-specialists. The surgeon of the vessel had been for years engaged in
-studying the hygiene of submarines, and was constantly working to
-free the atmosphere of the vessels from deleterious gases and to
-improve the living conditions of the crews. I remember listening one
-night to a history of the submarine told by one of the officers of
-the staff, and for the first time in my life I came to appreciate at
-its full value the heroism of the men who risked their lives in the
-first cranky, clumsy, uncertain little vessels, and the imagination
-and the faith of the men who believed in the type. Ten years ago, a
-descent in a sub was an adventure to be prefaced by tears and making
-of wills; to-day submarines are chasing submarines hundreds of miles
-at sea, are crossing the ocean, and have grown from a tube of steel
-not much larger than a life boat to underwater cruisers which carry
-six-inch guns. Said an officer to me:
-
-"The future of the submarine? Why, sir, the submarine is the only
-war vessel that's going to have a future!"
-
-[Illustration: A flock of submarines and the "mother" ship in harbor]
-
-On the night of my arrival, once dinner was over, I went on deck and
-looked down through the rain at the submarines moored alongside.
-They lay close by, one beside the other, in a pool of radiance cast
-by a number of electric lights hanging over each open hatchway.
-Beyond this pool lay the rain and the dark; within it, their sides
-awash in the clear green water of the bay, their grey bridges and
-rust-stained superstructures shining in the rain, lay the strange,
-bulging, crocodilian shapes of steel. There was something unearthly,
-something not of this world or time in the picture; I might have been
-looking at invaders of the sleeping earth. The wind swept past in
-great booming salvoes; rain fell in sloping, liquid rods through the
-brilliancy of electric lamps burning with a steadiness that had
-something in it of strange, incomprehensible and out of place in the
-motion and hullabaloo of the storm. And then, too, a hand appeared
-on the topmost rung of the nearer ladder, and a bulky sailor, a very
-human sailor in very human dungarees, poked his head out of the
-aperture, surveyed the inhospitable night, and disappeared.
-
-"He's on Branch's boat. They're going out to-night," said the
-officer who was guiding me about.
-
-"To-night? How on earth will he ever find his way to the open sea?"
-
-"Knows the bay like a book. However, if the weather gets any worse,
-I doubt if the captain will let him go. George will be wild if they
-don't let him out. Somebody has just reported wreckage off the
-coast, so there must be a Hun round."
-
-"But are not our subs sometimes mistaken for Germans?"
-
-"Oh, yes," was the calm answer.
-
-I thought of that ominous phrase I had noted in the British records
-"failed to report," and I remembered the stolid British captain who
-had said to me, speaking of submarines, "Sometimes nobody knows just
-what happened. Out there in the deep water, whatever happens,
-happens in a hurry." My guide and I went below to the officers'
-corridor. Now and then, through the quiet, a mandolin or guitar
-could be heard far off twanging some sentimental island ditty, and
-beneath these sweeter sounds lay a monotonous mechanical humming.
-
-"What's that sound?" I asked.
-
-"That's the Filipino mess boys having a little festino in their
-quarters. The humming? Oh, that's the mother-ship's dynamos
-charging the batteries of Branch's boat. Saves running on the
-surface."
-
-My guide knocked at a door. Within his tidy, little room, the
-captain who was to go out on patrol was packing the personal
-belongings he needed on the trip.
-
-"Hello, Jally!" he cried cheerily when he saw us. "Come on in. I am
-only doing a little packing up. What's it like outside?"
-
-"Raining same as ever, but I don't think it's blowing up any harder."
-
-"Hooray!" cried the young captain with heart-felt sincerity. "Then
-I'll get out to-night. You know the captain told me that if it got
-any worse he'd hold me till to-morrow morning. I told him I'd rather
-go out to-night. Perfect cinch once you get to the mouth of the bay,
-all you have to do is submerge and take it easy. What do you think
-of the news? Smithie thinks he saw a Hun yesterday.... Got anything
-good to read? Somebody's pinched that magazine I was reading.
-Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, that ought to be enough
-handkerchiefs.... Hello, there goes the juice."
-
-The humming of the dynamo was dying away slowly, fading with an
-effect of lengthening distance. The guitar orchestra, as if to
-celebrate its deliverance, burst into a triumphant rendering of
-Sousa's "Stars and Stripes."
-
-My guide and I waited till after midnight to watch the going of
-Branch's Z5. Branch and his second, wearing black oilskins down
-whose gleaming surface ran beaded drops of rain, stood on the bridge;
-a number of sailors were busy doing various things along the deck.
-The electric lights shone in all their calm unearthly brilliance.
-Then slowly, very slowly, the Z5 began to gather headway, the clear
-water seemed to flow past her green sides, and she rode out of the
-pool of light into the darkness waiting close at hand.
-
-"Good-bye! Good luck!" we cried.
-
-A vagrant shower came roaring down into the shining pool.
-
-"Good-bye!" cried voices through the night.
-
-Three minutes later all trace of the Z5 had disappeared in the dark.
-
-
-
-
-III
-
-FRIEND OR FOE?
-
-Captain Bill of the Z3 was out on patrol. His vessel was running
-submerged. The air within, they had but recently dived, was new and
-sweet, and that raw cold which eats into submerged submarines had not
-begun to take the joy out of life. It was the third day out; the
-time, five o'clock in the afternoon. The outer world, however, did
-not penetrate into the submarine. Night or day, on the surface or
-submerged, only one time, a kind of motionless electric high noon
-existed within those concave walls of gleaming cream white enamel.
-Those of the crew not on watch were taking it easy. Like unto their
-officers, submarine sailors are an unusual lot. They are real
-sailors, or machinist sailors, boys for whose quality the Navy has a
-flattering, picturesque and quite unprintable adjective. A submarine
-man, mind you, works harder than perhaps any other man of his grade
-in the Navy, because the vessel in which he lives is nothing but a
-tremendously intricate machine. In one of the compartments the
-phonograph, the eternal, ubiquitous phonograph of the Navy, was
-bawling its raucous rags and mechano-nasal songs, and in the pauses
-between records one could just hear the low hum of the distant
-dynamos. A little group in blue dungarees held a conversation in a
-corner; a petty officer, blue cap tilted back on his head, was at
-work on a letter; the cook, whose genial art was customarily under an
-interdict while the vessel was running submerged, was reading an
-ancient paper from his own home town.
-
-Captain Bill sat in a retired nook, if a submarine can possibly be
-said to have a retired nook, with a chart spread open on his knees.
-The night before he had picked up a wireless message saying that a
-German had been seen at sundown in a certain spot on the edge of his
-patrol. So Captain Bill had planned to run submerged to the spot in
-question, and then pop up suddenly in the hope of potting the Hun.
-Some fifteen minutes before sun down, therefore, the Z3 arrived at
-the place where the Fritz had been observed.
-
-
-"I wish I knew just where the bird was," said an intent voice. "I'd
-drop a can right on his neck."
-
-These sentiments were not those of anybody aboard the Z3. An
-American destroyer had also come to the spot looking for the German,
-and the gentle thought recorded above was that of her captain. It
-was just sun down, a level train of splendour burned on the ruffled
-waters to the west; a light, cheerful breeze was blowing. The
-destroyer, ready for anything, was hurrying along at a smart clip.
-
-"This is the place all right, all right," said the navigator of the
-destroyer. "Come to think of it, that chap's been reported from here
-twice."
-
-Keen eyes swept the shining uneasy plain.
-
-Meanwhile, some seventy feet below, the Z3 manoeuvred, killing time.
-The phonograph had been hushed, and every man was ready at his post.
-The prospect of a go with the enemy had brought with it a keen thrill
-of anticipation. Now a submarine crew is a well trained machine.
-There are no shouted orders. If a submarine captain wants to send
-his boat under quickly, he simply touches the button of a Klaxon, the
-horn gives a demoniac yell throughout the ship, and each man does
-what he ought to do at once. Such a performance is called a "crash
-dive."
-
-"I'd like to see him come up so near that we could ram him," said the
-captain, gazing almost directly into the sun. "Find out what she's
-making."
-
-The engineer lieutenant stooped to a voice-tube that almost swallowed
-up his face, and yelled a question to the engine room. An answer
-came, quite unheard by the others.
-
-"Twenty-four, sir," said the engineer lieutenant.
-
-"Get her up to twenty-six," said the captain.
-
-The engineer cried again through the voice tube. The wake of the
-vessel roared like a mill race, the white foam tumbling rosily in the
-setting sun.
-
-Seventy feet below, Captain Bill was arranging the last little
-details with the second in command.
-
-"In about five minutes we'll come up and take a look-see (stick up
-the periscope) and if we see the bird, and we're in a good position
-to send him a fish (torpedo) we'll let him have one. If there is
-something there, and we're not in a good position, we'll manoeuvre
-till we get into one, and then let him have it. If there isn't
-anything to be seen, we'll go under again and take another look-see
-in half an hour. Reilly has his instructions." Reilly was chief of
-the torpedo room.
-
-
-"Something round here must have got it in the neck recently," said
-the destroyer captain, breaking a silence which had hung over the
-bridge. "Did not you think that wreckage a couple of miles back
-looked pretty fresh? Wonder if the boy we're after had anything to
-do with it. Keep an eye on that sun streak."
-
-
-An order was given in the Z3. It was followed instantly by a kind of
-commotion, sailors opened valves, compressed air ran down pipes, the
-ratchets of the wheel clattered noisily. On the moon-faced depth
-gauge with its shining brazen rim, the recording arrow fled swiftly,
-counter clockwise, from seventy to twenty to fifteen feet....
-Captain Bill stood crouching at the periscope, and when it broke the
-surface, a greenish light poured down it and focussed in his eyes.
-He gazed keenly for a few seconds, and then reached for the
-horizontal wheel which turns the periscope round the horizon. He
-turned ... gazed, jumped back, and pushed the button for a crash dive.
-
-"She was almost on top of me," he explained afterwards. "Coming like
-H--l. I had to choose between being rammed or depth bombed."
-
-There was another swift commotion, another opening and closing of
-valves, and the arrow on the depth gauge leaped forward. Captain
-Bill was sending her down as far as he could as fast as he dared.
-Fifty feet, seventy feet, ... ninety feet. Hoping to throw the
-destroyer off, the Z3 doubled on her track. A hundred feet.
-
-Crash! Depth charge number one.
-
-According to Captain Bill, who is good at similes, it was as if a
-giant, wading along through the sea, had given the boat a vast and
-violent kick, and then leaning down had shaken it as a terrier shakes
-a rat. The Z3 rocked, lay on her side, and fell through the depths.
-A number of lights went out. Men picked themselves out of corners,
-one with the blood streaming down his face from a bad gash over his
-eye. Many of them told later of "seeing stars" when the vibration of
-the depth charge travelled through the hull and their own bodies;
-some averred that "white light" seemed to shoot out of the Z3's
-walls. Each man stood at his post waiting for the next charge.
-
-Crash! A second depth charge. To every one's relief, it was less
-violent than the first. A few more lights went out. Meanwhile the
-Z3 continued to sink and was rapidly nearing the danger point.
-Having escaped the first two depth charges, Captain Bill hastened to
-bring the boat up to a higher level. Then to make things cheerful,
-it was discovered that the Z3 showed absolutely no inclination to
-obey her controls.
-
-"At first," said Captain Bill, "I thought that the first depth bomb
-must have jammed all the external machinery, then I decided that our
-measures to rise had not yet overcome the impetus of our forced
-descent. Meanwhile the old hooker was heading for the bottom of the
-Irish Sea, though I'd blown out every bit of water in her tanks. Had
-to, fifty feet more, and she would have crushed in like an egg shell
-under the wheel of a touring car. But she kept on going down. The
-distance of the third, fourth and fifth depth bombs, however, put
-cheer in our hearts. Then, presently, she began to rise. The old
-girl came up like an elevator in a New York business block. I knew
-that the minute I came to the surface those destroyer brutes would
-try to fill me full of holes, so I had a man with a flag ready to
-jump on deck the minute we emerged. He was pretty damn spry about
-it, too. I took another look-see through the periscope, and saw that
-the destroyer lay about two miles away, and as I looked she came for
-me again. Meanwhile, my signal man was hauling himself out of the
-hatchway as if his legs were in boiling water."
-
-"We've got her!" cried somebody aboard the destroyer in a deep
-American voice full of the exultation of battle. The lean rifles
-swung, lowered.... "Point one, lower." They were about to hear
-"Fire!" when the Stars and Stripes and sundry other signals burst
-from the deck of the misused Z3.
-
-"Well what do you think of that?" said the gunner. "If it ain't one
-of our own gang. Say, we must have given it to 'em hard."
-
-"We'll go over and see who it is," said the captain of the destroyer.
-"The signals are O.K., but it may be a dodge of the Huns. Ask 'em
-who they are."
-
-In obedience to the order, a sailor on the destroyer's bridge
-wigwagged the message.
-
-"Z3," answered one of the dungaree-clad figures on the submarine's
-deck. Captain Bill came up himself, as the destroyer drew alongside,
-to see his would-be assassin. There was no resentment in his heart.
-The adventure was only part of the day's work. The destroyer neared;
-her bow overlooked them. The two captains looked at each other. The
-dialogue was laconic.
-
-"Hello, Bill," said the destroyer captain.
-
-"All right?"
-
-"Sure," answered Captain Bill, to one who had been his friend and
-class mate.
-
-"Ta, ta, then," said he of the destroyer, and the lean vessel swept
-away in the twilight.
-
-Captain Bill decided to stay on the surface for a while. Then he
-went below to look over things. The cook, standing over some
-unlovely slop which marked the end of a half dozen eggs broken by the
-concussion, was giving his opinion of the undue hastiness of
-destroyers. The cook was a child of Brooklyn, and could talk. The
-opinion was not flattering.
-
-"Give it to 'em, cooko," said one of the crew, patting the orator
-affectionately on the shoulder. "We're with you."
-
-And Captain Bill laughed.
-
-
-
-
-IV
-
-RUNNING SUBMERGED
-
-It was breakfast time, and the officers of the submarines then in
-port had gathered round one end of the long dining table in the
-wardroom of the mother ship. Two or three who had breakfasted early
-had taken places on a bench along the nearer wall and were examining
-a disintegrating heap of English and American magazines, whilst
-pushed back from the table and smoking an ancient briar, the senior
-of the group read the wireless news which had just arrived that
-morning. The news was not of great importance. The lecture done
-with, the tinkle of cutlery and silver, which had been politely
-hushed, broke forth again.
-
-"What are you doing this morning, Bill?" said one of the young
-captains to another who had appeared in old clothes.
-
-"Going out at about half past nine with the X10. (The X10 was a
-British submarine.) Just going to take a couple of shots at each
-other. What are you up to?"
-
-"Oh, I've got to give a bearing the once over, and then I've got to
-write a bunch of letters."
-
-"Wouldn't you like to come with us?" said the first speaker, pausing
-over a steaming dish of breakfast porridge. "Be mighty glad to take
-you."
-
-"Indeed I would," I replied with joy in my heart. "All my life long
-I have wanted to take a trip in a submarine."
-
-"That's fine! We'll get you some dungarees. Can't fool round a
-submarine in good clothes." The whole table began to take a friendly
-interest, and a dispute arose as to whose clothes would best fit me.
-I am a large person. "Give him my extra set, they're on the side of
-my locker." "Don't you want a cap or something?" "Hey, that's too
-small, wait and I'll get Tom's coat." "Try these on." They are a
-wonderful lot, the submarine officers.
-
-I felt frightfully submarinish in my outfit. We must have made a
-picturesque group. The captain led off, wearing a tattered,
-battered, old uniform of Annapolis days, I followed wearing an old
-Navy cap jammed on the side of my head and a suit of newly laundered
-dungarees; the second officer brought up the rear; his outfit
-consisted of dungaree trousers, a kind of aviator's waistcoat, and an
-old cloth cap.
-
-The submarines were moored close by the side of the mother ship, a
-double doorway in the wall of the machine shop on the lower deck
-opening directly upon them. A narrow runway connected the nearest
-vessel with the sill of this aperture, and mere planks led from one
-superstructure to another. The day, first real day after weeks of
-rain, was soft and clear, great low masses of vapour, neither mist
-nor cloud, but something of both, swept down the long bay on the
-wings of the wind from the clean, sweet-smelling sea; the sun shone
-like ancient silver. Little fretful waves of water clear as the
-water of a spring coursed down the alley ways between the submarines;
-gulls, piping and barking, whirled like snow flakes overhead. I
-crossed to one grey alligatorish superstructure, looked down a narrow
-circular hatch at whose floor I could see the captain waiting for my
-coming, grasped the steel rings of a narrow ladder, and descended
-into the submarine. The first impression was of being surrounded by
-tremendous, almost incredible complexity. A bewildering and
-intricate mass of delicate mechanical contrivances, valves, stop
-cocks, wheels, chains, shining pipes, ratchets, faucets, oil-cups,
-rods, gauges. Second impression, bright cleanliness, shining brass,
-gleams of steely radiance, stainless walls of white enamel paint.
-Third impression, size; there was much more room than I had expected.
-Of course everything is to be seen by floods of steady electric
-light, since practically no daylight filters down through an open
-hatchway.
-
-"This," said the captain, "is the control room. Notice the two depth
-gauges, two in case one gets out of order. That thick tube with a
-brass thread coiled about it is a periscope, and it's a peach! It's
-of the 'housing' kind and winds up and down along that screw. The
-thread prevents any leak of water. In here," we went through a
-lateral compartment with a steel door, thick as that of a small safe,
-"is a space where wee eat, sleep and live; our cook stove is that
-gadget in the corner. We don't do much cooking when we're running
-submerged; in here," we passed another stout partition, "is our
-Diesel engine, and our dynamos. Up forward is another living space
-which technically belongs to the officers, and the torpedo room." He
-took me along. "Now you've seen it all. A fat steel cigar, divided
-into various compartments and cram jammed full of shining machinery.
-Of course, there's no privacy, whatsoever. (Readers will have to
-guess what is occasionally used for the phonograph table.) Our space
-is so limited that designers will spend a year arguing where to put
-an object no bigger than a soap box. We get on very well however.
-Every crew gets used to its boat; the men get used to each other.
-They like the life; you couldn't drag them back to surface vessels.
-An ideal submarine crew works like a perfect machine. When we go out
-you'll see that we give our orders by Klaxon. There's too much noise
-for the voice. Suppose I had popped up on the surface right under
-the very nose of one of those destroyer brutes. She might start to
-ram me; in which case I might not have time to make recognition
-signals and would have to take my choice between getting rammed or
-depth bombed. I decide to submerge, push a button, the Klaxon gives
-a yell, and every man does automatically what he has been trained to
-do. A floods the tanks, B stands by the dynamos, C watches the depth
-gauges and so on. That's what we call a crash dive."
-
-"Over at the destroyer base," I said, "they told me that the Germans
-were having trouble because of lack of trained crews."
-
-"You can just bet they are," said the captain. "Must have lost
-several boats that way. Can't monkey with these boats; if somebody
-pulls a fool stunt--Good Night!" He opened a gold watch and closed
-it again with a click. "Nine o'clock, just time to shove off. Come
-up on the bridge until we get out in the bay."
-
-I climbed the narrow ladder again and crept along the superstructure
-to the bridge which rose for all the world like a little grey steel
-pulpit. One has to be reasonably sure-footed. It was curious to
-emerge from the electric lighted marvel to the sunlight of the bay,
-to the view of the wild mountains descending to the clear sea. The
-captain gave his orders. Faint, vague noises rose out of the
-hatchway; sailors standing at various points along the superstructure
-cast off the mooring ropes and took in bumpers shaped like monstrous
-sausages of cord which had protected one bulging hull from another;
-the submarine went ahead solemnly as a planet. Friendly faces leaned
-over the rail of the mother ship high above.
-
-Once out into the bay, I asked the second in command just what we
-were up to. The second in command was a well knit youngster with the
-coolest, most resolute blue eyes it has ever been my fortune to see.
-
-"We're going to take shots at a British submarine and then she's
-going to have a try at us. We don't really fire torpedoes--but
-manoeuvre for a position. Three shots apiece. There she is now,
-running on the surface. Just as soon as we get out to deep water
-we'll submerge and go for her. Great practice."
-
-A British submarine, somewhat larger than our American boat, was
-running down the bay, pushing curious little waves of water ahead of
-her. Several men stood on her deck.
-
-"Nice boat, isn't she? Her captain's a great scout. About two
-months ago a patrol boat shot off his periscope _after_ he made it
-reasonably clear he wasn't a Hun. You ought to hear him tell about
-it. Especially his opinion of patrol boat captains. Great command
-of language. Bully fellow, born submarine man."
-
-"I meant to ask you if you weren't sometimes mistaken for a German,"
-I said.
-
-"Yes, it happens," he answered coolly. "You haven't seen Smithie
-yet, have you? Guess he was away when you came. A bunch of
-destroyers almost murdered him last month. He's come the nearest to
-kissing himself good-bye of any of us. Going to dive now, time to
-get under."
-
-Once more down the steel ladder. I was getting used to it. The
-handful of sailors who had been on deck waited for us to pass.
-Within, the strong, somewhat peppery smell of hot oil from the Diesel
-engines floated, and there was to be heard a hard, powerful
-knocking-spitting sound from the same source. The hatch cover was
-secured, a listener might have heard a steely thump and a grind as it
-closed. Men stood calmly by the depth gauges and the valves. Not
-being a "crash dive," the feat of getting under was accomplished
-quietly, accomplished with no more fracas than accompanies the
-running of a motor car up to a door. One instant we were on the
-surface, the next instant we were under, and the lean black arrow on
-the broad moon-faced depth gauge was beginning to creep from ten to
-fifteen, from fifteen to twenty, from twenty to twenty-five.... The
-clatter of the Diesel engine had ceased; in its place rose a low hum.
-And of course there was no alteration of light, nothing but that
-steady electric glow on those cold, clean bulging walls.
-
-"What's the programme, now?"
-
-"We are going down the bay a bit, put up our periscope, pick up the
-Britisher, and fire an imaginary tin fish at him. After each shot,
-we come to the surface for an instant to let him know we've had our
-turn."
-
-"What depth are we now?"
-
-"Only fifty-five feet."
-
-"What depth can you go?"
-
-"The Navy Regulations forbid our descending more than two hundred
-feet. Subs are always hiking around about fifty or seventy-five feet
-under, just deep enough to be well under the keel of anything going
-by."
-
-"Where are we now?"
-
-"Pretty close to the mouth of the bay. I'm going to shove up the
-periscope in a few minutes."
-
-The captain gave an order, the arrow on the dial retreated towards
-the left.
-
-"Keep her there." He applied his eye to the periscope. A strange,
-watery green light poured out of the lens, and focussing in his eye,
-lit the ball with wild demoniac glare. A consultation ensued between
-the captain and his junior.
-
-"Do you see her?"
-
-"Yes, she is in a line with that little white barn on the island....
-She's heading down the bay now.... So many points this way (this
-last direction to the helmsman) ... there she is ... she's making
-about twelve ... she's turning, coming back ... steady ... five, ...
-six ... Fire!"
-
-There was a rush, a clatter, and a stir and the boat rose evenly to
-the surface.
-
-"Here, take a look at her," said the captain, pushing me towards the
-periscope. I fitted the eyepieces (they might have been those of
-field glasses embedded in the tube) to my eyes, and beheld again the
-outer world. The kind of a world one might see in a crystal, a
-mirror world, a glass world, but a remarkably clear little world.
-And as I peered, a drop of water cast up by some wave touched the
-outer lens of the tube, and a trickle big as a deluge slid down the
-visionary bay.
-
-Twice again we "attacked" the Britisher. Her turn came. Our boat
-rose to the surface, and I was once more invited to accompany the
-captain to the bridge. The British boat lay far away across the
-inlet. We cruised about watching her.
-
-"There she goes." The Britisher sank like a stone in a pond. We
-continued our course. The two officers peered over the water with
-young, searching, resolute eyes. Then they took to their binoculars.
-
-"There she is," cried the captain, "in a line with the oak tree." I
-searched for a few minutes in vain. Suddenly I saw her, that is to
-say, I saw with a great deal of difficulty a small dark rod moving
-through the water. It came closer; I saw the hatpin shaped trail
-behind it.
-
-Presently with a great swirl and roiling of foam the Britisher pushed
-herself out of the water. I could see my young captain judging the
-performance in his eye. Then we played victim two more times and
-went home. On the way we discussed the submarine patrol. Now there
-is no more thrilling game in the world than the game of periscope
-_vs._ periscope.
-
-"What do you do?" I asked. "Just what you saw us do to-day. We pack
-up grub and supplies, beat it out on the high seas and wait for a
-Fritz to come along. We give him a taste of his own medicine; given
-him one more enemy to dodge. Suppose a Hun baffles the destroyers,
-makes off to a lonely spot, and comes to the surface for a breath of
-air. There isn't a soul in sight, not a stir of smoke on the
-horizon. Just as Captain Otto, or Von Something is gloating over the
-last hospital ship he sunk, and thinking what a lovely afternoon it
-is, a tin fish comes for him like a bullet out of a gun, there comes
-a thundering pound, a vibration that sends little waves through the
-water, a great foul swirl, fragments of cork, and it's all over with
-the Watch on the Rhine. Sometimes Fritz's torpedo meets ours on the
-way. Then once in a while a destroyer or a patriotic but misguided
-tramp makes things interesting for a bit. But it's the most
-wonderful service of all. I wouldn't give it up for anything. We're
-all going out day after to-morrow. Can't you cable London for
-permission to go? You'll like it. Don't believe anything you hear
-about the air getting bad. The principal nuisance when you've been
-under a long while is the cold; the boat gets as raw and damp as an
-unoccupied house in winter. Jingo, quarter past one! We'll be late
-for dinner."
-
-
-Some time after this article had appeared, the captain of an American
-submarine gave me a copy of the following verses written by a
-submarine sailor. Poems of this sort, typewritten by some
-accommodating yeoman, are always being handed round in the Navy; I
-have seen dozens of them. Would that I knew the author of this
-picturesque and flavorous ditty, for I would gladly give him the
-credit he deserves.
-
-
- A SUBMARINE
-
- Born in the shops of the devil,
- Designed by the brains of a fiend;
- Filled with acid and crude oil,
- And christened "A Submarine."
-
- The posts send in their ditties
- Of battleships spick and clean;
- But never a word in their columns
- Do you see of a submarine.
-
- So I'll endeavour to depict our story
- In a very laconic way;
- So please have patience to listen
- Until I have finished my say.
-
- We eat where'er we can find it,
- And sleep hanging up on hooks;
- Conditions under which we're existing
- Are never published in books.
-
- Life on these boats is obnoxious
- And this is using mild terms;
- We are never bothered by sickness,
- There isn't any room for germs.
-
- We are never troubled with varmints,
- There are things even a cockroach can't stand;
- And any self-respecting rodent
- Quick as possible beats it for land.
-
- And that little one dollar per diem
- We receive to submerge out of sight,
- Is often earned more than double
- By charging batteries all night.
-
- And that extra compensation
- We receive on boats like these,
- We never really get at all.
- It's spent on soap and dungarees.
-
- Machinists get soaked in fuel oil,
- Electricians in H2SO4,
- Gunner's mates with 600 W,
- And torpedo slush galore.
-
- When we come into the Navy Yard
- We are looked upon with disgrace;
- And they make out some new regulation
- To fit our particular case.
-
- Now all you battleship sailors,
- When you are feeling disgruntled and mean,
- Just pack your bag and hammock
- And go to a submarine.
-
-
-
-
-V
-
-THE RETURN OF THE CAPTAINS
-
-The breakfast hour was drawing to its end, and the very last
-straggler sat alone at the ward room table. Presently an officer of
-the mother ship, passing through, called to the lingering group of
-submarine officers.
-
-"The X4 is coming up the bay, and the X12 has been reported from
-signal station."
-
-The news was received with a little hum of friendly interest.
-"Wonder what Ned will have to say for himself this time." "Must have
-struck pretty good weather." "Bet you John has been looking for
-another chance at that Hun of his." The talk drifted away into other
-channels. A little time passed. Then suddenly a door opened, and
-one after the other entered the three officers of the first home
-coming submarine. They were clad in various ancient uniforms which
-might have been worn by an apprentice lad in a garage, old grey
-flannel shirts, and stout grease stained shoes; several days had
-passed since their faces had felt a razor, and all were a little pale
-from their cruise. But the liveliest of keen eyes burned in each
-resolute young face, eyes smiling and glad. A friendly hullaballoo
-broke forth. Chairs scraped, one fell with a crash.
-
-"Hello, boys!"
-
-"Hi, John!"
-
-"For the love of Pete, Joe, shave off those whiskers of yours; they
-make you look like Trotsky."
-
-"See any Germans?"
-
-"What's the news?"
-
-"What's doing?"
-
-"Hi, Manuelo" (this to a Philipino mess boy who stood looking on with
-impassive curiosity), "save three more breakfasts."
-
-"Anything go for you?"
-
-"Well, if here isn't our old Bump!"
-
-The crowd gathered round Captain John who had established contact
-(this is military term quite out of place in a work on the Navy) with
-the eagerly sought, horribly elusive German.
-
-"Go on, John, give us an earful. What time did you say it was?"
-
-"About 5 A.M.," answered the captain. He stood leaning against a
-door and the fine head, the pallor, the touch of fatigue, all made a
-very striking and appealing picture. "Say about eight minutes after
-five. I'd just come up to take a look-see, and saw him just about
-two miles away on the surface, and moving right along. So I went
-under to get into a good position, came up again and let him have
-one. Well, the bird saw it just as it was almost on him, swung her
-round, and dived like a ton of lead."
-
-The audience listened in silent sympathy. One could see the
-disappointment on the captain's face.
-
-"Where was he?"
-
-"About so and so."
-
-"That's the jinx that got after the convoy sure as you live."
-
-The speaker had had his own adventures with the Germans. A month or
-so he shoved his periscope and spotted a Fritz on the surface in full
-noonday. The watchful Fritz, however, had been lucky enough to see
-the enemy almost at once and had dived. The American followed suit.
-The eyeless submarine manoeuvred about some eighty feet under, the
-German evidently "making his get-a-way," the American hoping to be
-lucky enough to pick up Fritz's trail, and get a shot at him when the
-enemy rose again, to the top. And while the two blind ships
-manoeuvred there in the dark of the abyss, the keel of the fleeing
-German had actually, by a curious chance, scraped along the top of
-the American vessel and carried away the wireless aerials!
-
-All were silent for a few seconds, thinking over the affair. It was
-not difficult to read the thought in every mind, the thought of
-_getting at the enemy_. The idea of our Navy is "Get after 'em, Keep
-after 'em, Stay after 'em, Don't give 'em an instant of security or
-rest." And none have this fighting spirit deeper in their hearts
-than our gallant men of the submarine patrol.
-
-"That's all," said Captain John. "I'm going to have a wash up." He
-lifted a grease stained hand to his cheek, and rubbed his unshaven
-beard, and grinned.
-
-"Any letters?"
-
-"Whole bag of stuff. Smithie put it on your desk."
-
-Captain John wandered off. Presently, the door opened again, and
-three more veterans of the patrol cruised in, also in ancient
-uniforms. There were more cheers; more friendly cries. It was
-unanimously decided that the "Trotsky" of the first lot had better
-take a back seat, since the second in command of the newcomers was "a
-perfect ringer for Rasputin."
-
-"See anything?"
-
-"Nothing much. There's a bit of wreckage just off shore. Saw a
-British patrol boat early Tuesday morning. I was on the surface,
-lying between her and the sunrise; she was hidden by a low lying
-swirl of fog; she saw us first. When we saw her, I made signals, and
-over she came. Guess what the old bird wanted ... _wanted to know if
-I'd seen a torpedo he'd fired at me_! An old scout with white
-whiskers, one of those retired captains, I suppose, who has gone back
-on the job. He admitted that he had received the Admiralty notes
-about us, but thought we acted suspicious.... Did you ever hear of
-such nerve!"
-
-
-When the war was young, I had a year of it on land. Now, I have seen
-the war at sea. To my mind, if there was one service of this war
-which more than any other required those qualities of endurance,
-skill and courage whose blend the fighting men so wisely call
-"_guts_," it surely was our submarine patrol. So here's to the L
-boats, their officers and crews, and to the _Bushnell_ and her brood
-of Bantry Bay!
-
-
-
-
-VI
-
-OUR SAILORS
-
-In the lingo of the Navy, the enlisted men are known as "gobs." This
-word is not to be understood as in any sense conveying a derogatory
-meaning. The men use it themselves;--"the _gobs_ on the 210." "What
-does a real _gob_ want with a wrist watch?" It is an unlovely
-syllable, but it has character.
-
-In the days before the war, our navy was, to use an officer's phrase,
-more of "a big training school" than anything else. There were, of
-course, a certain number of young men who intended to become sailors
-by profession, even as some entered the regular army with the
-intention of remaining in it, but the vast majority of sailors were
-"one enlistment men" who signed on for four years and then returned
-to civilian life. The personnel included boys just graduated from or
-weary of high school, young men from the western farms eager for a
-glimpse of the world, and city lads either uncertain as to just what
-trade or profession they should follow or thirsting for a man's cup
-of adventure before settling down to the prosaic task that gives the
-daily bread.
-
-To-day, the enlisted personnel of the Navy is a cross section of the
-Nation's youth. There are many college men, particularly among the
-engineers. There are young men who have abandoned professions to
-enter the Navy to do their bit. For instance, the yeoman who ran the
-little office on board Destroyer 66 was a young lawyer who had
-attained real distinction. On board the same destroyer was a lad who
-had been for a year or two a reporter on one of the New York papers,
-and a chubby earnest lad whose father is a distinguished leader of
-the Massachusetts bar. Of my four best friends, "Pop" had worked in
-some shop or other, "Giles" was a student from an agricultural
-college somewhere in western New York, "Idaho" was a high school boy
-fresh from a great ranch, and "Robie" was the son of a physician in a
-small southern city. The Napoleonic veterans of the new navy are the
-professional "gobs" of old; sailors with second enlistment stripes go
-down the deck the very _vieux de la veille_.
-
-The sailor suffers from the fact that many people have fixed in their
-minds an imaginary sailor whom they have created from light
-literature and the stage. Just as the soldier must always be a
-dashing fellow, so must the sailor be a rollicking soul, fond of the
-bottle and with a wife in every port. Is not the "comic sailor" a
-recognized literary figure? Yet whoever heard of the "comic
-soldier"? This silly phantom blinds us to the genuine charm of
-character with which the sea endows her adventurous children; we turn
-into a frolic a career that is really one of endurance, heroism, and
-downright hard work. Not that I am trying to make Jack a sobersides
-or a saint. He is full of fun and spirit. But the world ought to
-cease imagining him either as a mannerless "rough-houser" or a low
-comedian. Our sailors have no special partiality for the bottle;
-indeed, I feel quite certain that a majority of every crew "keep away
-from booze" entirely. As for having a wife in every port, the
-Chaplain says that a sailor is the most faithful husband in the world.
-
-As a lot, sailors are unusually good-hearted. This last Christmas
-the men of our American battleships now included in the Grand Fleet
-requested permission to invite aboard the orphan children of a great
-neighbouring city, and give them an "American good time." So the
-kiddies were brought aboard; Jack rigged up a Christmas tree, and
-distributed presents and sweets in a royal style. Said a witness of
-the scene to me, "I never saw children so happy."
-
-One of the passions which sway "the gobs" is to have a set of
-"tailor-made" liberty blues. By "liberty blues" you are to
-understand the sailor's best uniform, the picturesque outfit he wears
-ashore. Surely the uniform of our American sailor is quite the
-handsomest of all. On such a flimsy excuse, however, as that "the
-government stuff don't fit you round the neck" or "hasn't any
-_style_," Jack is forever rushing to some Louie Katzenstein in
-Norfolk, Va., or Sam Schwartz of Charlestown, Mass., to get a "real"
-suit made. Endless are the attempts to make these "a little bit
-_different_," attempts, alas, which invariably end in reprimand and
-disaster. The _dernier cri_ of sportiness is to have a right hand
-pocket lined with starboard green and a left hand pocket lined with
-port red. A second ambition is to own a heavy seal ring, "fourteen
-karat, Navy crest. Name and date of enlistment engraved free."
-Sailors pay anywhere from twenty to seventy dollars for these
-treasures. To-day, the style is to have a patriotic motto engraved
-within the band. I remember several inscribed "Democracy or Death."
-The desire of having a "real" watch comes next in hand, and if you
-ask a sailor the time he is very liable to haul out a watch worth
-anywhere from a hundred and fifty to two hundred dollars.
-
-Our sailors are the very finest fellows in the world to live with. I
-sailed with the Navy many thousand miles; I visited all the great
-bases, and _I did not see one single case of drunkenness or
-disorderly behaviour_. The work done by our sailors was a hard and
-gruelling labour, the seas which they patrolled were haunted by every
-danger, yet everywhere they were eager and keen, their energy
-unabated, their spirits unshaken.
-
-
-
-
-VII
-
-THE BASE
-
-The town which served as the base of the American destroyers has but
-one great street; it is called The Esplanade, and lies along the
-harbour edge and open to the sea. I saw it first in the wild
-darkness of a night in early March. Rain, the drenching, Irish rain,
-had been falling all the day, but toward evening the downpour had
-ceased, and a blustery south-east wind had thinned the clouds, and
-brought the harbour water to clashing and complaining in the dark.
-It was such a night as a man might peer at from a window, and be
-grateful for the roof which sheltered him, yet up and down the gloomy
-highway, past the darkened houses and street lamps shaded to mere
-lifeless lumps of light, there moved a large and orderly crowd. For
-the most part, this crowd consisted of American sailors from the
-destroyers in port, lean, wholesome-looking fellows these, with a
-certain active and eager manner very reassuring to find on this side
-of our cruelly tried and jaded world. Peering into a little lace
-shop decked with fragile knickknacks and crammed with bolts of table
-linen, I saw two great bronzed fellows in pea jackets and pancake
-hats buying something whose niceties of stitch and texture a little
-red-cheeked Irish lass explained with pedagogic seriousness; whilst
-at the other end of the counter a young officer with grey hair fished
-in his pockets for the purchase money of some yards of lace which the
-proprietress was slowly winding around a bit of blue cardboard. Back
-and forth, now swallowed up in the gloom of a dark stretch, now
-become visible in the light of a shop door, streamed the crowd of
-sailors, soldiers, officers, country folk and townspeople. I heard
-Devon drawling its oe's and oa's; America speaking with Yankee
-crispness, and Ireland mingling in the babel with a mild and genial
-brogue.
-
-By morning the wind had died down; the sun was shining merrily, and
-great mountain masses of rolling white cloud were sailing across the
-sky as soft and blue as that which lies above Fiesole. Going forth,
-I found the little town established on an edge of land between the
-water and the foot of a hill; a long hill whose sides were in places
-so precipitous that only masses of dark green shrubbery appeared
-between the line of dwellings along the top and the buildings of the
-Esplanade. The hill, however, has not had things all its way. Two
-streets, rising at an angle which would try the endurance of an
-Alpine ram actually go in a straight line from the water's edge to
-the high ground, taking with them, in their ascent, tier after tier
-of mean and grimy dwellings. All other streets, however, are less
-heroic, and climb the side of the hill in long, sloping lateral
-lines. A new Gothic cathedral, built just below the crest of the
-hill, but far overtopping it, dominates and crowns the town; perhaps
-crushes would be the better verb, for the monstrous bone-grey mass
-towers above the terraced roofs of the port with an ascendancy as
-much moral as physical. Yet for all its vastness and commanding
-situation, it is singularly lifeless, and only the trickery of a
-moonlight night can invest its mediocre, Albert-Memorial architecture
-with any trace of beauty.
-
-The day begins slowly there, partly because this south Irish climate
-is such stuff as dreams are made of, partly because good, old
-irreconcilables are suspicious of the daylight saving law as a
-British measure. There is little to be seen till near on ten
-o'clock. Then the day begins; a number of shrewd old fish wives,
-with faces wrinkled like wintered apples and hair still black as a
-raven's wing, set up their stalls in an open space by a line of
-deserted piers, and peasants from near by villages come to town
-driving little donkey carts laden with the wares; now one hears the
-real rural brogue, the shrewd give and take of jest and bargain, and
-a prodigious yapping and snarling from a prodigious multitude of
-curs. Never have I seen more collarless dogs. The streets are full
-of the hungry, furtive creatures; there is a fight every two or three
-minutes between some civic champion and one of the invading rural
-mongrels; many is the Homeric fray that has been settled by a good
-kick with a sea boot. Little by little the harbour, seeing that the
-land is at last awake, comes ashore to buy its fresh eggs, green
-vegetables, sweet milk and golden Tipperary butter. The Filipino and
-negro stewards from the American ships arrive with their baskets and
-cans; they are very popular with Queenstown folk who cherish the
-delusion that our trimly dressed, genially grinning negroes are the
-American Indians of boyhood's romance. From the cathedral's solitary
-spire, a chime jangles out the quarters, amusing all who pause to
-listen with its involuntary rendering of the first bar of "Strike up
-the band; here comes a sailor." And ever and anon, a breeze blows in
-from the harbour bringing with it a faint smell from the funnels of
-the oil-burning destroyers, a smell which suggests that a giant oil
-lamp somewhere in the distance has need of turning down. After the
-lull of noon, the men to whom liberty has been given begin to arrive
-in boatloads forty and fifty strong. The patrollers, distinguished
-from their fellows by leggins, belts, white hats, and police billie,
-descend first, form in line, and march off to their ungrateful task
-of keeping order where there is no disorder; then, scrambling up the
-water side stairs like youngsters out of school, follow the liberty
-men. If there is any newcomer to the fleet among them, it is an even
-chance that he will be rushed over the hill to the _Lusitania_
-cemetery, a gruesome pilgrimage to which both British and American
-tars are horridly partial. Some are sure to stroll off to their
-club, some elect to wander about the Esplanade, others disappear in
-the highways and byways of the town. For Bill and Joe have made
-friends. There have been some fifty marriages at this base. I
-imagine a good deal of match-making goes on in those grimy streets,
-for the Irish marriage is, like the Continental one, no matter of
-silly sentiment, but a serious domestic transaction. All afternoon
-long, the sailors come and go. The supper hour takes them to their
-club; night divides them between the movies and the nightly promenade
-in the gloom.
-
-The glories of this base as a mercantile port, if there ever were
-any--and the Queenstown folk labour mightily to give you the
-impression that it was the only serious rival to London--are now over
-with the glories of Nineveh and Tyre. A few Cunard lithographs of
-leviathans now for the most part at the bottom of the sea, a few
-dusty show cases full of souvenirs, pigs and pipes of black, bog oak,
-"Beleek" china, a fragile, and vanilla candy kind of ware, and lace
-'kerchiefs "made by the nuns" alone remain to recall the tourist
-traffic that once centred here. To-day, one is apt to find among the
-souvenirs an incongruous box of our most "breathy" (forgive my
-new-born adjective) variety of American chewing gum. If you would
-imagine our base as it was in the great days, better forget the port
-entirely and try to think of a great British and American naval base
-crammed with shipping flying the national ensigns, of waters thrashed
-by the propellers of oil tankers, destroyers, cruisers, armed sloops,
-mine layers, and submarines even. A busy dockyard clangs away from
-morning till night; a ferry boat with a whistle like the frightened
-scream of a giant's child runs back and forth from the docks to the
-Admiralty pier, little parti-coloured motor dories run swiftly from
-one destroyer to another.
-
-From the hill top, this harbour appears as a pleasant cove lying
-among green hills. On the map, it has something the outline of a
-blacksmith's anvil. Taking the narrow entrance channel to be the
-column on which the anvil rests, there extends to the right, a long
-tapering bay, stretching down to a village leading over hill, over
-dale to tumble-down Cloyne, where saintly Berkeley long meditated on
-the non-existence of matter; there lies to the right a squarer,
-blunter bay through which a river has worn a channel. This channel
-lies close to the shore, and serves as the anchorage.
-
-Over the tops of the headlands, rain-coloured and tilted up to a bank
-of grey eastern cloud, lay the vast ambush, the merciless gauntlet of
-the beleaguered sea.
-
-
-
-
-VIII
-
-THE DESTROYER AND HER PROBLEM
-
-About a quarter of a mile apart, one after the other along the ribbon
-of deep water just off the shore, lie a number of Admiralty buoys
-about the size and shape of a small factory boiler. At these buoys,
-sometimes attached in little groups of two, three, and even four to
-the same ring bolt, lie the American destroyers. From the shore one
-sees the long lean hull of the nearest vessel and a clump of funnels
-all tilted backwards at the same angle. The air above these waspish
-nests, though unstained with smoke, often broods vibrant with heat.
-All the destroyers are camouflaged, the favourite colours being
-black, West Point grey and flat white. This camouflage produces
-neither by colour nor line the repulsive and silly effect which is
-for the moment so popular. Going aboard a destroyer for the first
-time, a lay observer is struck by their extraordinary leanness, a
-natural enough impression when one recalls that the vessels measure
-some three hundred feet in length and only thirty-four in width.
-Many times have I watched from our hill these long, low, rapier
-shapes steal swiftly out to sea, and been struck with the terror, the
-genuine dread that lies in the word _destroyer_. For it is a
-terrible word, a word heavy with destruction and vengeance, a word
-that is akin to many an Old Testament phrase.
-
-Our great destroyer fleet may be divided into two squadrons, the
-first of larger boats called "thousand tonners," the second of
-smaller vessels known as "flivvers." Another division parts the
-thousand tonners into those which have a flush deck from bow to
-stern, and those which have a forward deck on a higher level than the
-main deck. All these types burn oil, the oil burner being nothing
-more than a kind of sprayer whose mist of fuel a forced draft whirls
-into a roar of flame; all can develop a speed of at least twenty-nine
-knots. The armament varies with the individual vessel, the usual
-outfit consisting of four four-inch guns, two sets of torpedo tubes,
-two mounted machine guns, and a store of depth charges.
-
-These charges deserve a eulogy of their own. They have done more
-towards winning the war than all the giant howitzers whose calibre
-has stupefied the world. In appearance and mechanism they are the
-simplest of affairs. The Navy always refers to them as cans: "I
-dropped a can right on his head"; "it was the last can that did the
-business." Imagine an ash can of medium size painted black and
-transformed into a ponderous thick walled cylinder of steel crammed
-with some three hundred pounds of T.N.T. and you have a perfect image
-of one. Now imagine at one end of this cylinder a detonator
-protected by an arrangement which can be set to resist the pressure
-of water at various levels. A sub appears, and sinks swiftly. If it
-is just below the surface, the destroyer drops a bomb set to explode
-at a depth of seventy feet. The bomb then sinks by its own weight to
-that level at which the outward force of the protective mechanism is
-over-balanced by the inward pressure of the water; the end yields,
-the detonator crushes, the bomb explodes, and your submarine is flung
-horribly out of the depths almost clear of the water, and while he is
-up, the destroyer's guns fill the hull full of holes. Or suppose the
-submarine to have gone down two hundred feet. Then you drop a bomb
-geared to that depth upon him, and blow in his sides like a cracked
-egg. The sound of these engines travels through the water some
-twenty or twenty-five miles, and there have been ships who have
-caught the vibration of a distant depth bomb through their hulls and
-thought themselves torpedoed. I once saw a depth bomb roll off a
-British sloop into a half filled dry dock; the men scrambled away
-like mad, but returned in a few minutes to fish out a "can," that had
-sixty more feet to go before it could burst. It lay on the bottom
-harmless as a stone. The charges rest at the stern of a vessel,
-lying one above the other on two sloping runways, and can be released
-either from the stern or by hydraulic pressure applied at the bridge.
-The credit for this exceedingly successful scheme belongs to a
-distinguished American naval officer.
-
-The destroyer has but one deck which is arranged in the following
-manner. I take one of the "thousand tonners" as an illustration.
-From an incredibly lean, high bow, a first deck falls back a
-considerable distance to a four-inch gun; behind the gun lies another
-open space closed by a two-storied structure whose upper section is
-the bridge and whose lower section a chart room. At the rear of this
-structure the hull of the boat is cut away, and one descends by a
-ladder from the deck which is on the level of the chart room floor,
-to the main deck level some eight feet below. Beyond this cut but
-one deck lies, the mere steel covering of the hull. Guns and torpedo
-tubes are mounted on it, the funnels rise flush from the plates; a
-life line lies strung along its length, and strips of cocoa matting
-try to give something of a footing.
-
-The officers' quarters are to be found under the forward deck. The
-sleeping rooms are situated on both sides of a narrow passageway
-which begins at the bow and leads to the open living room and dining
-room space known as the ward room. In the hull, in the space beneath
-the wardroom lie the quarters of the crew, amidships lie the boilers
-and the engine room, and beyond them, a second space for the crew and
-the petty officers. A destroyer is by no means a paradise of
-comfort, though when the vessel lies in a quiet port, she can be as
-attractive and livable as a yacht. But Heaven help the poor sailor
-aboard a destroyer at sea! The craft rolls, dips, shudders, plunges
-like a horse straight up at the stars, sinks rapidly and horribly,
-and even has spells of see-sawing violently from side to side. Its
-worst motion is an unearthly twist,--a swift appalling rise at a
-dreadful angle, a toss across space to the other side of a wave, a
-fearful descent sideways and down and a ghastly shudder. "You need
-an iron stomach" to be on a destroyer is a navy saying. Some,
-indeed, can never get used to them, and have to be transferred to
-other vessels.
-
-[Illustration: American destroyer on patrol]
-
-The destroyer is the capital weapon against the submarine. She can
-out-race a sub, can fight him with guns, torpedoes, or depth charges;
-she can send him bubbling to the bottom by ramming him amidships.
-She can confuse him by throwing a pall of smoke over his target; she
-can beat off his attacks either above or below the surface. He fires
-a torpedo at her, she dodges, runs down the trail of the torpedo,
-drops a depth bomb, and brings her prey to the surface, an actual
-incident this. Her problem is of a dual nature, being both defensive
-and offensive. To-day, her orders are to escort a convoy through the
-danger zone to a position in latitude x and longitude y; to-morrow,
-her orders are to patrol a certain area of the beleaguered sea or a
-given length of coast.
-
-Based upon a foreign port, working in strange waters, the destroyer
-flotilla added to the fine history of the American Navy a splendid
-record of endurance, heroism and daring achievement.
-
-
-
-
-IX
-
-TORPEDOED
-
-If you would understand the ocean we sailed in war-time, do not
-forget that it was essentially an ambush, that the foe was waiting
-for us in hiding. Nothing real or imagined brooded over the ocean to
-warn a vessel of the presence of danger, for the waters engulfed and
-forgot the tragedies of this war as they have engulfed and forgotten
-all disasters since the beginning of time. The great unquiet shield
-of the sea stretched afar to pale horizons, the sun shone as he might
-shine on a pretty village at high noon, the gulls followed alert and
-clamorous. Yet a thundering instant was capable of transforming this
-apparent calm into the most formidable insecurity. In four minutes
-you would have nothing left of your ship and its company but a few
-boats, some bodies, and a miscellaneous litter of wreckage strewn
-about the scene of the disaster. Of the assassin there was not a
-sign.
-
-All agreed that the torpedo arrived at a fearful speed. "Like a long
-white bullet through the water," said one survivor. "Honest to God,
-I never saw anything come so fast," said another.
-
-"Where did it strike?" I asked the first speaker, a fine intelligent
-English seaman who had been rescued by a destroyer and brought to an
-American base.
-
-"In a line with the funnel, sir. A great column of steam and water
-went up together, and the pieces of the two port boats fell all
-around the bridge. I think it was a bit of one of the boats that
-struck me here." He held up a bandaged hand.
-
-"What happened then?"
-
-"All the lights went out. It was just dusk, you see, so we had to
-abandon the boat in the darkness. A broken steam pipe was roaring so
-that you couldn't hear a word any one was saying. She sank very
-fast."
-
-"Did you see any sign of the submarine?"
-
-"The captain's steward thought he saw something come up just about
-three hundred yards away as we were going down. But in my judgment,
-it was too dark to see anything distinctly, and my notion is that he
-saw a bit of wreckage, perhaps a hatch."
-
-The next man to whom I talked was a chunky little stoker who might
-have stepped out of the pages of one of Jacobs' stories. I shall not
-aim to reproduce his dialect--it was of the "wot abaht it" order.
-
-"We were heading into Falmouth with a cargo of steel and barbed wire.
-I had a lot of special supplies which I bought myself in New York,
-some sugar, two very nice 'ams and one of those round Dutch cheeses.
-I was always thinking to myself how glad my old woman would be to see
-all those vittles. Just as we got off the Scillies, one of those
-bloody swine hit us with a torpedo between the boiler room and the
-thwart ship bunker, forward of the engine room, and about sixteen
-feet below the water line. Understand? I was in the boiler room.
-Down came the bunker doors, off went the tank tops in the engine
-room, two of the boilers threw out a mess of burning coal, and the
-water came pouring in like a flood. Let me tell you that cold sea
-water soon got bloody hot, the room was filled with steam, couldn't
-see anything. I expected the boilers to blow up any minute. I
-yelled out for my mates. Suddenly I heard one of 'em say: 'Where's
-the ladder?' and there was pore Jem with his face and chest burned
-cruel by the flying coal, and he had two ribs broke too, though we
-didn't know it at the time. Says 'e, 'Where's Ed?' and just then Ed
-came wading through the scalding water, pawing for the ladder. So up
-we all went, never expecting to reach the top. Then when we got into
-a boat, we 'eard that the wireless had been carried away, and that
-we'd have to wait for somebody to pick us up. So we waited for two
-days and a Yankee destroyer found us. Yes, both my mates are getting
-better, though sister 'ere tells me that pore Ed may lose his eye."
-
-Sometimes the torpedo was seen and avoided by a quick turn of the
-wheel. There were other occasions when the torpedo seems to follow a
-ship. I remember reading this tale. "At 2.14 I saw the torpedo and
-felt certain that it would mean a hit either in the engine or the
-fire room, so I ordered full speed ahead, and put the rudder over
-hard left. At a distance of between two and three hundred yards, the
-torpedo took a sheer to the left, but righted itself. For an instant
-it appeared as if the torpedo might pass astern, but porpoising
-again, it turned toward the ship and struck us close by the
-propellers."
-
-So much for blind chances. One hears curious tales. The column of
-water caused by the explosion tossed onto the forward hatch of one
-merchant ship a twisted half of the torpedo; there was a French boat
-struck by a torpedo which did not explode, but lay there at the side
-violently churning, and clinging to the boat as if it were possessed
-of some sinister intelligence. I heard of a boat laden with high
-explosives within whose hold a number of motor trucks had been
-arranged. A torpedo got her at the mouth of the channel. An
-explosion similar to the one at Halifax raked the sea, the vessel,
-blown into fragments, disappeared from sight in the twinkling of an
-eye, and an instant later there fell like bolides from the startled
-firmament a number of immense motor trucks, one of which actually
-crashed on to the deck of another vessel!
-
-Meanwhile, I suppose, some hundred and fifty feet or more below,
-"Fritz," seated at a neat folding table, wrote it all down in his log.
-
-
-
-
-X
-
-THE END OF A SUBMARINE
-
-Two days before, in a spot somewhat south of the area we were going
-out to patrol, a submarine had attacked a convoy and sunk a horse
-boat. I had the story of the affair months afterwards from an
-American sailor who had seen it all from a nearby ship. This sailor,
-no other than my friend Giles, had been stationed in the lookout when
-he heard a thundering pound, and looking to port, he saw a column of
-water hanging just amidships of the torpedoed vessel, a column that
-broke crashing over the decks. In about three minutes the ship broke
-in two, the bow and the stern rising like the points of a shallow V,
-and in five minutes she sank. The sea was strewn with straw; there
-were broken stanchions floating in the confused water, and a number
-of horses could be seen swimming about. "All you could see was their
-heads; they looked awful small in all that water. Some of the horses
-had men hanging to them. There was a lot of yelling for help." The
-other ships of the convoy had run for dear life; the destroyers had
-raced about like hornets whose nest is disturbed, but the submarine
-escaped.
-
-We left a certain harbour at about three in the afternoon. Many of
-the destroyers were out at sea taking in a big troop convoy and the
-harbour seemed unusually still. The town also partook of this quiet,
-the long lateral lines of climbing houses staring out blankly at us
-like unresponsive acquaintances. Very few folk were to be seen on
-the street. We were bound forth on an adventure that was drama
-itself, a drama which even then the Fates, unknown to us, were
-swiftly weaving into a tragedy of vengeance, yet I shall never forget
-how casual and undramatic the Esplanade appeared. A loafer or two
-lounged by the door of the public house, a little group of sailors
-passed, a jaunting car went swiftly on its way to the station; there
-was nothing to suggest that these isles were beleaguered; nothing
-told of the remorseless enemy at the gates of the sea.
-
-All night long under a gloomy, starless sky we patrolled waters dark
-as the very waves of the Styx. The hope that nourished us was the
-thought of finding a submarine on the surface, but we heard no noise
-through the mysterious dark, and a long, interminable dawn revealed
-to us nothing but the high crumbling cliffs of a lonely and
-ill-reputed bay. Where were _they_ then, I have often wondered?
-When had they their last look at the sun? Had they any consciousness
-of the end which time was bringing to them with a giant's hurrying
-step? At about six o'clock we swung off to the southward, and in a
-short time the coast had faded from sight.
-
-From six o'clock to about half past ten we swept in great circles and
-lines the mist encircled disk of the pale sea which had been
-entrusted to our keeping. We were at hand to answer any appeal for
-aid which might flutter through the air, to investigate any
-suspicious wreckage; above all, to fulfill our function of
-destruction. I have spoken elsewhere of the terror which lurks in
-the word _destroyer_. We were hunters; beaters of the ambush of the
-sea. About us lay the besieged waters, yellow green in colour, vexed
-with tide rips and mottled with shadows of haze and appearances of
-shoal.
-
-We were on the bridge. Suddenly a voice called down the tube from
-the lookout on the mast:
-
-"Smoke on the horizon just off the port bow, sir."
-
-In a little while a vague smudginess made itself seen along the humid
-southeast, and some fifteen minutes later there emerged from this
-smudge the advance vessels of a convoy. Now one by one, now in twos
-and threes, the vessels of the convoy climbed over the dim edge of
-the world, a handful of destroyers accompanying the fleet. Almost
-every ship was camouflaged, though the largest of all, a great ocean
-drudge of a cargo boat, still preserved her decency of dull grey. A
-southeast wind blowing from behind the convoy sent the smoke of the
-funnels over the bows and down the western sky. There was something
-indescribably furtive about the whole business. The ships were going
-at their very fastest, but to us they seemed to be going very slowly,
-to be drifting almost, across the southern sky. "We advanced," as
-our report read later, "to take up a position with the convoy." The
-watch, always keen on the 660, redoubled its vigilance. The bait was
-there; the hunt was on. Now, if ever, was the time for submarines.
-I remember somebody saying, "We may see a sub." The destroyer
-advanced to within three miles of the convoy, which was then across
-her bow. The morning was sunny and clear; the sun high in the north.
-
-"Periscope! Port bow," suddenly cried the surgeon of the ship, then
-on watch on the bridge. "About three hundred yards away, near that
-sort of a barrel thing over there. See it? It's gone now."
-
-Powerful glasses swept the suspected area. The captain, cool as ice,
-took his stand by the wheel.
-
-"There it is again, sir. About seventy-five yards nearer this way."
-
-This time it was seen by all who stood by. The periscope was
-extraordinarily small, hardly larger than a stout hoe handle, and not
-more than two feet above the choppy sea.
-
-"Full speed ahead," said the captain. "Sound general quarters."
-
-I do not think there was a heart there that was not beating high, but
-outwardly things went on just as calmly as they had before the
-periscope had been sighted.
-
-The fans of the extra boilers began to roar. The general quarters
-alarm, a continuous ringing, sounded its shrill call. Men tumbled to
-their stations from every corner of the ship, some going to the
-torpedo tubes, some to the guns, others to the depth charges at the
-stern. The wake of the destroyer, now tearing along at full speed,
-resembled a mill race. And now the destroyer began a beautiful
-manoeuvre. She became the killer, the avenger of blood. Leaving her
-direct course, she turned hard over to port, and at the point where
-her curve cut the estimated course of the German, she tossed over a
-buoy to mark the spot at which the German had been seen and released
-a depth bomb. The iron can rolled out of its chocks, and fell with a
-little splash into the foaming wake. The buoy, a mere wooden
-platform with a bit of rag, tied to an upright stick wobbled sillily
-behind. For about four seconds nothing happened. Then the seas
-behind us gave a curious, convulsive lift, one might have thought
-that the ocean had drawn a spasmodic breath; over this lifted water
-fled a frightful glassy tremor, and an instant later there broke
-forth with a thundering pound a huge turbid geyser which subsided,
-splashing noisily into streaks and eddies of foam and purplish dust.
-The destroyer then dropped three more in a circle round the first--a
-swift cycle of thundering crashes. Meanwhile the convoy, warned by
-our signal and by the uproar turned tail and fled from the spot.
-Great streamers of heavy black smoke poured from the many funnels,
-revealing the search for speed. In the area we had bombed, a number
-of dead fish began to be seen floating in the scum. By this time
-some of the vessels from the escort of the convoy had rushed to our
-assistance, and round and round the buoy they tore, dropping charge
-after charge. The ocean now became literally speckled with dead
-whiting, and I saw something that looked like an enormous eel
-floating belly upwards.
-
-[Illustration: The last of a German U-boat. The depth bomb that
-destroyed her was dropped by the destroyer shown in a corner of the
-picture]
-
-The convoy disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Little by little the
-excitement died away. Finally the only vessel left in sight on the
-broad shield of the sea was another American destroyer, our partner
-on patrol. The 305 was fitted with listening devices, and she agreed
-to remain behind to keep an eye and ear open. We were to have a word
-from her every half hour.
-
-From twelve noon to two o'clock there were no tidings of importance.
-At 2:20, however, this laconic message sent us hurrying back to the
-scene of the morning's combat.
-
-"Signs of oil coming to surface."
-
-What had happened in the darkness below those yellow green waves? I
-am of the opinion that our first bomb, dropped directly upon her,
-crushed the submarine in like an egg-shell, that she had then sunk to
-the bottom, and developed a slow leak.
-
-The 660 returned through a choppy sea to the battleground of the
-morning. We caught sight of the other destroyer from afar. She lay
-on the flank of a great area defiled by the bodies of fish, purple
-T.N.T. dust and various bits of muddy wreckage which the explosions
-had shaken free from the ooze. Gulls, already attracted to the spot,
-were circling about, uttering hoarse cries. In the heart of this
-disturbed area lay a great still pool of shining water and into this
-pool, from somewhere in the depths, huge bubbles of molasses-brown
-oil were rising. Reaching the surface, these bubbles spread into
-filmy pan cakes round whose edges little waves curled and broke.
-
-
-
-
-XI
-
-"FISHING"
-
-A young executive officer who had discovered that I came from his
-part of the world, took me there for tea. I fancy that few of the
-destroyer folk will forget the principal hotel at the Navy's Irish
-base. We sat in worn plush chairs in a vast rectangular salon lit by
-three giant sash windows of horrible proportions. Walls newly decked
-with paper of a lustrous, fiery red showered down upon us their
-imaginary warmth. The room was cold, horribly cold, and a minuscule
-fire of coke burning in a tiny grate seemed to be making no effort
-whatsoever to improve conditions. The little glow of fire in the
-nest of clinkers leered with a dull malevolence. Cold--a shivery
-cold. My eye fled to the pictures on the fiery wall. How in the
-d----l did these particular pictures ever land in this particular
-corner of south Ireland? Two were photographic studies of ragged
-Alabama darkies, pictures of the kind that used to be printed on
-calendars in the eighteen nineties. One was entitled "I want you, ma
-honey" (this being addressed to a watermelon), the other being called
-"I'se just tired of school." These two were varied by an engraving
-of a race horse, some Charles I cavaliers, and a framed newspaper
-photograph of the 71st New York Guards en route for Tampa in 1898!
-
-Sugar excepted, there is still plenty of good food in Ireland. The
-Exec. and I sat down to a very decent tea. I told all that I knew
-about the Exec.'s friends, that A was in a machine gun company; B in
-the naval aviation; C in the intelligence department and so forth.
-And when I had done my share of the talking, I demanded of the Exec,
-what he thought of his work "over there."
-
-He answered abruptly, as if he had long before settled the question
-in his own mind:
-
-"It's a game. Some of the sporting fishermen in the flotilla say
-that it's much like fishing ... now you use this bait, now that, now
-this rod, now another, and all the time you are following ...
-following the fish.... It's a game, the biggest game in all the
-world, for it has the biggest stakes in all the world. There's far
-more strategy to it than one would suspect. You see, it's not enough
-to hang round till a periscope pops up; we've got to fish out the
-periscope."
-
-"Fishing, then," said I. "Well, how and where do you fish?"
-
-"On the chequer board of the Irish Sea and the Channel. You see the
-surface of the endangered waters is divided up into a number of
-squares or areas, and over each area some kind of a patrol boat
-stands guard. She may be a destroyer, ... perhaps a 'sloop.' Now
-let's suppose she's out there looking for 'fish.'"
-
-"Yes, even as a fisherman might wade out into a river in which he
-knows that fish are to be caught. But how is your destroyer
-fisherman to know just what fish are to be caught, and in just what
-bays and inlets he ought to troll?"
-
-"That's the function of the Naval Intelligence. Have you realized
-the immense organization which Britain has created especially to
-fight the submarine? You'll find it all in the war cabinet report
-for 1917. Before the war, there were only twenty vessels employed as
-mine sweepers and on auxiliary patrol duties; to-day the number of
-such craft is about 3,800, and is constantly increasing. And don't
-forget the sea planes, balloons, and all the other parts of the
-outfit. So while our destroyer fisherman is casting about in square
-x, let us say, all these scouting friends of his are trying to find
-the 'fish' for him. So every once in a while he gets a message via
-wireless, 'fish seen off bay blank,' 'fish reported in latitude A and
-longitude B.' ... If these messages refer to spots in his
-neighbourhood, you can be sure that he keeps an extra sharp lookout.
-So no matter where the fish goes, there is certain to be a fisher."
-_During a recent month the mileage steamed by the auxiliary patrol
-forces in British home waters exceeded six million miles_.
-
-"Now while you are beating the waters for them, what about the fish
-himself?"
-
-"The fish himself? Well, the ocean is a pretty big place, and the
-fish has the tremendous advantage of being invisible. A submarine
-need only show _three inches_ of periscope if the weather is calm.
-She can travel a hundred miles completely submerged, and she can
-remain on the bottom for a full forty-eight hours. Squatting on the
-bottom is called "lying doggo." But she has to come up to breathe
-and recharge her batteries, and this she does at night. Hence the
-keenness of the night patrol. And here is another parallel to
-fishing. You know that when the wind is from a certain direction,
-you will find the fish in a certain pool, whilst if the wind blows
-from another quarter, you will find the fish in another place? Same
-way with submarines. Let the wind blow from a certain direction, and
-they will run up and down the surface off a certain lee shore. You
-can just bet that that strip of shore is well patrolled. Moreover,
-submarines can't go fooling round all over the sea, they _have_ to
-concentrate in certain squares, say the areas which lie outside big
-ports or through which a great marine highway lies."
-
-"Suppose that you manage to injure a fish, what then?"
-
-"Well, if the fish isn't too badly injured, he will probably make for
-one of the shallows, and lie doggo till he has time to effect
-repairs. Result, every shallow is watched as carefully as a miser
-watches his gold. And sea planes have a special patrol of the coast
-to keep them off the shallows by the shore."
-
-"Sometimes, then, in the murk of night, a destroyer must bump into
-one by sheer good luck?"
-
-"Oh, yes, indeed. Not long ago, a British destroyer racing through a
-pitch dark rainy night cut a sub almost in half. There was a
-tremendous bump that knocked the people on the bridge over backward,
-a lot of yelling, and then a wild salvo of rain blotted everything
-out. I think they managed to rescue one of the Germans. Pity they
-didn't get the fish itself. You know it's a great stunt to get your
-enemy's codes. We get them once in a while. Ever seen a pink
-booklet on any of your destroyer trips? It's a translation of a
-German book of instructions to submarine commanders. On British
-boats they call it 'Baby-Killing at a Glance or the Hun's Vade
-Mecum.' Great name, isn't it? Tells how to attack convoys and all
-that sort of thing. Lots of interesting tricks like squatting in the
-path of the sun so that the lookout, blinded by the glare, shan't see
-you; playing dead and so on. That playing-dead stunt, if it ever did
-work, which I greatly doubt, is certainly no favourite now."
-
-"Playing dead? Just what do you mean?"
-
-"Why, a destroyer would chase a sub into the shallows and bomb her.
-Then 'Fritz' would release a tremendous mess of oil to make believe
-that he was terribly injured, and lie doggo for hours and hours. The
-destroyer, of course, seeing the oil, and hearing nothing from
-'Fritz' was expected to conclude that 'Fritz' had landed in Valhalla,
-and go away. Then when she had gone away, 'Fritz,' quite uninjured,
-went back to his job."
-
-"And now that stunt is out of fashion?"
-
-"You bet it is. Our instructions are to bomb until we get tangible
-results. Before it announces the end of a sub, the Admiralty has to
-have unmistakable evidence of the sub's destruction. Not long ago,
-they say a sub played dead somewhere off the Channel, sent up oil,
-and waited for the fishers to go. In a few seconds, 'Fritz' got a
-depth bomb right on his ear, and up he came to the top, the most
-surprised and angry Hun that ever was seen. Bagged him, boat and
-all. He must have had a head of solid ivory.
-
-"Got to be cruising along, now. It's four o'clock, and our tender
-must be waiting for me at the pier."
-
-"Going fishing?" I asked politely.
-
-"You bet!" he answered with a grin.
-
-
-
-
-XII
-
-AMUSEMENTS
-
-On every vessel in the Navy there is a phonograph, and on some
-destroyers there are two phonographs, one for the officers, and one
-for the men. The motion of the destroyer rarely permits the use of
-the machine at sea, but when the vessel lies quietly at her mooring
-buoy, you are likely to hear a battered old opera record sounding
-through the port holes of the ward room, and "When the midnight choo
-choo leaves for Alabam'" rising raucously out of the crew's quarters.
-When music fails, there are always plenty of magazines, thanks to
-good souls who read Mr. Burleson's offer and affix the harmless,
-necessary two cent stamps. Each batch is full of splendid
-novelettes. We gloat over the esoteric mysteries of the "American
-Buddhist," and wonder who sent it, we read the "Osteopath's
-Quarterly," the "Western Hog Breeder," and "Needlework." Petty
-officers with agricultural ambitions, and there are always a few on
-every boat, descend on the agricultural journals like wolves on the
-fold.
-
-No notice of Queenstown, no history of the Navy would be complete
-without a word about golf. It is _the_ Navy game. Golf clubs are to
-be found in every cabin; in the tiny libraries Harry Vardon rubs
-shoulders with naval historians and professors of thermodynamics. If
-you take the train, you are sure to find a carriage full of golfers
-bound for a course on the home side of the river. I remember seeing
-the captain of an American submarine just about to start upon the
-most dangerous kind of an errand one could possibly imagine. It was
-midnight; it was raining, the great Atlantic surges were sweeping
-into the bay in a manner which told of rough weather outside. Just
-as he was about to disappear into the clamorous bowels of his craft,
-the captain paused for an instant on the ladder, and shouted back to
-us, "Tell Sanderson to put that mashie in my room when he's through
-with it."
-
-Were it not for the great "United States Naval Men's Club," I fear
-that Jack ashore would have had but a dull time, for our amusements
-were limited to a dingy cinema exploiting American "serials" several
-years old, and a shed in which a company of odd people played
-pretentious melodramas of the "Worst Woman in London" type on a tiny
-Sunday school stage. Alas, there were not enough people in the
-company to complete the cast of characters, so the poor leading lady
-was forever disappearing into the wings as the wronged daughter of a
-ducal house, only to appear again in a few minutes as the dark female
-poisoner, whilst the little leading man with a Kerry Brogue was
-forever rushing back and forth between the old white-haired servitor
-and the Earl of Darnleycourt. Once in a while Jack came to these
-performances, bought the best seat, and left the theatre before the
-performance was ended. The British Tars, however, sat through it
-respectably and solemnly to the end.
-
-The Men's Club was to be found at one end of the town close by the
-water's edge. It was quite the most successful and attractive thing
-of its kind I have ever visited. The largest building was a
-factory-like affair of brick which once housed some swimming baths,
-then became a theatre, and finally failed and lay down to die; the
-smaller buildings were substantial huts of the Y.M.C.A. kind which
-had been attached to the original structure. This institution
-provided some several thousand sailors with a canteen, an excellent
-restaurant, a theatre, a library, a recreation room, and, if
-necessary, a lodging. Best of all, one could go to the Club and
-actually be warm and comfortable in the American style, a boon not to
-be lightly regarded in these islands where people all winter long
-huddle in freezing rooms round lilliputian grates. Enlisted men
-controlled the club, maintained it, and selected their stewards,
-cooks and attendants from their own ranks. Upon everybody concerned,
-the Club reflects the highest credit.
-
-There were "movies" every night, and on Saturday night a special
-concert by the "talent" in the flotilla. The opening number was
-always a selection by the Club Orchestra, perhaps a march of Sousa's,
-for the Navy is true to its own, or perhaps Meacham's "American
-Patrol." Then came a long four-reel movie, "Jim the Penman," "The
-Ring of the Borgias," "Gladiola" or "Davy Crockett." The last
-terrifying flickers die away, the footlights become rosy; the curtain
-rises on "The Musical Gobs." We behold a pleasant room in which two
-people in civilian clothes sit playing a soft, crooning air on
-violins. Suddenly a knock is heard at the door. One of the
-performers rises, goes to the door, then returns and says to his
-partner:
-
-"There's some sailors out there (great laughter in the audience);
-they say they can play too. Want to know if they can't come in and
-play with us."
-
-"Sure, tell 'em to come in."
-
-"Come in, boys."
-
-From behind the back drop, a subdued humming suddenly bursts and
-blossoms into "Strike up the band; here comes a sailor." Enter now
-three pleasant looking, amiably grinning lads playing the tune.
-Chairs are brought out for the newcomers and the "Musical Gobs,"
-genuine artists all, play several airs. Another knock is heard and a
-singer, a petty officer with a good tenor, also begs to join them.
-The curtain goes down in a perfect tempest of applause. The screen
-descends once more, and all present sing together the popular songs
-whose text is shown, "Gimme a kiss, Mirandy," and "It's a long way to
-Berlin, but we'll get there." This feature was always a favourite.
-We then have a clog dancer, two more comic films and the National
-anthems. When the show is over, almost everybody wandered to the
-canteen to get "a bite to eat." To o'erleap the bars of the ration
-system with a real plate of ham and eggs, served club style, was an
-experience.
-
-So if you were aboard a destroyer that night, you would have heard
-Jack whistling the new tunes, and his officers discussing golf scores.
-
-
-
-
-XIII
-
-STORM
-
-Sooner or later, destroyer folk are sure to say something about _the_
-storm. It happened in December and raged for a full three days.
-Readers will have to imagine what it meant to destroyer sailors; the
-boat dancing, tipping and rolling crazily without a second's respite;
-no warm food to eat because a saucepan could not be kept on the stove
-or liquids in a saucepan; no rest to be had. Imagine being in the
-lookout's station in such a storm, wondering when the tops of the
-masts were going to crash down on one's head. It was a hard time.
-Yet two-thirds of the American flotilla were out in it, and _not a
-single vessel lost an hour from her patrol_. Indeed the American
-vessels were about the only patrol boats to stay out during the
-tempest.
-
-One day in the wardroom of the good old Z, some of the officers began
-to tell of it. The first narrator was the radio officer, a tall
-blond Westerner with big grey eyes, and a little sandy moustache.
-
-"I knew we were in for something when I saw the clouds racing over
-_against_ the wind. Didn't you notice that, Duke? It kept up for
-quite a while, and kept getting colder and colder. It wasn't one of
-these squally storms, but one of these storms that starts with a
-repressed grouch, nurses it along, and finally decides to have it
-out. Whoopee! Some night, that first one. Everybody stayed on
-their feet. Couldn't have slept if you'd had the chance to. To get
-about, you grabbed the nearest thing handy, hung on for dear life,
-took a step, grabbed the next thing handy and so on. The old hooker
-did the darndest stunts I ever saw or felt. I came in to get my coat
-hanging in that corner, and the first thing I knew I was lying on the
-floor over in the other corner trying to fight my way to my feet
-again. One of the men in the boiler room got burned by being thrown
-against a hot surface. Did I tell you how I tried to lie down?
-Well, just as I had actually succeeded in getting over to this
-transom and stretching out preparatory to strapping myself in (you
-have to strap yourself tight in these destroyer bunks same as in an
-aeroplane) the old craft sank or swooped or did something more than
-usually funny, and left me hanging in the air about a foot and a half
-above the bunk. I must have looked like the subject of an experiment
-in levitation. A minute later either the bunk came up and caught me
-a wallop in the back, or I fell down like a ton of brick or we met in
-mid air, anyway, I thought my spine had been carried away. Then all
-of a sudden the library door opened and dumped about a hundred pounds
-of books on me.
-
-"It was really dangerous to go on deck, for the waves could easily
-have torn one from the life line. One of the boats did, I think,
-lose a man overboard, but by wonderful luck managed to fish him out
-again." It is the engineer officer speaking. He is somewhat older
-than the average destroyer officer; somewhere on the edge of the
-forties, I should say; of medium height, lean; and with hazel eyes, a
-thin high nose and a thin, firm mouth. "I was just getting through
-my watch, had my foot on the ladder, in fact, when the boat that we
-lost got smashed in. A wave about the size of a young mountain
-climbed aboard, hit the deck, caught the boat, and then poured off
-with the kindling wood. Then to make things interesting, right when
-it was blowing the hardest, the men's dog took it into his head to
-come on deck. Of course, he was only a three months' pup then, and
-didn't know any better. (He does now though, he won't stick his nose
-out when the weather's bad.) Well, he slipped his collar or
-something, and ran on deck. The water was washing about under the
-torpedo tubes like the breakers at Atlantic City, and the deck plates
-were buckling. Takes a destroyer to do that. But I keep forgetting
-the dog. The little brute backed up between two of the stacks and
-started yapping out a puppyish bark at the world to starboard. It
-was funny in a way to see the little brute there with his short hair
-blown backwards and his feet braced on the wet deck. Everybody
-yelled, and one of the men ran out hanging on to the life line, and
-not a minute too soon either, for a second later a big wave came
-thumping down on us, and there was Maloney, the big dark fellow you
-were talking to this morning, hanging on to the wire by one arm, with
-the fool dog squashed under the other, and the whole Irish Sea trying
-to wash them both overboard. I was afraid he'd lose his balance or
-have the handle that travels along the wire torn out of his grasp.
-But he got to shelter all right, the darn dog yapping steadily all
-the time. We had two, almost three days of it, and it never let up
-one bit. One of our boats got caught in it with only a meagre supply
-of oil, but managed to make a French port. I've heard that there
-actually wasn't enough oil left in her tanks to have taken her three
-miles further. Other destroyers, too, had boats smashed up, and one
-of 'em came in with her smokestacks bent up for all the world like
-the crooked fingers of a hand. Some had depth charges washed
-overboard. It certainly was the worst blow that I remember."
-
-Here the navigator came over with a twinkle in his eye, and touched
-me on the shoulder.
-
-"Don't let him fill you with that dope," said he, "that storm wasn't
-in it with the storms we have on the other side off Hatteras."
-
-"Hatteras, my neck," said the other. "What do you think you are,
-anyway--Hell-Roaring Jake the Storm King?"
-
-And then the talk shifted to something else.
-
-
-
-
-XIV
-
-ON NIGHT PATROL
-
-It was the end of the afternoon, there was light in the western sky
-and on the winding bay astern, but ahead, leaden, still, and slightly
-tilted up to a grey bank of eastern cloud, lay the forsaken and
-beleaguered sea. The destroyer, nosing slowly through the gap in the
-nets by the harbour mouth, entered the swept channel, increased her
-speed, and trembling to the growing vibration, hurried on into the
-dark. High, crumbling, and excessively romantic, the Irish coast
-behind her died away. Tragic waters lay before her. Whatever
-illusory friendliness men had read into the sea had vanished; the
-great leaden disk about the vessel seemed as insecure as a mountain
-road down whose length travellers cease from speaking for fear of
-avalanches. "A vast circular ambush." Somehow the beholder cannot
-help feeling that the waters should show some sign of the horrors
-they have seen. But the sea has engulfed all, memories as well as
-living men, engulfing a thousand wrecks as completely as time engulfs
-a thousand years.
-
-The dark came swiftly, almost as if the destroyer had sailed to find
-it in that bank of eastern cloud. There was an interval of twilight,
-no dying glow, but a mere pause in the pale ebb of the day. The
-destroyer had begun to roll. Looking back from the bridge one saw
-the lean, inconceivably lean, steel deck, the joints of the plates
-still visible, the guns to each side with their attendant crews, a
-machine gun, swinging on a pivot like a weather vane, the gently
-swaying bulk of the suspended motor dories and life boats, the four
-great tubes of the funnels rising flush from the plates, and crowned
-with a tremble of vibration from the oil flames below. And all this
-lean world swung slowly from side to side, rocking as gently as a
-child's cradle, swayed as if by some gentle force from within.
-
-The destroyer was out on patrol. A part of the threatened sea had
-been given to her to watch and ward. She was the guardian, ... the
-avenger.
-
-The supper hour arrived, men came in groups to the galley door, some
-to depart with steamy pannikins, there was a smell of good food very
-satisfying to children of earth. In the officer's wardroom when
-dinner was over, and the negro mess boys were silently folding the
-white cloth, securing the chairs, and tidying up, those not on watch
-settled down to a friendly talk. All the lights except one bulb
-hanging over the table in a pyramidal tin shade had been switched
-off. It was very quiet. Now and then one could hear the splash of a
-wave against the side, a footfall on the deck overhead, or the tinkle
-of the knives and forks which the steward was putting away in a
-drawer. The hanging light swayed with the motion of the ship,
-trailing a pool of light up and down the oaken table. Cigarette
-smoke rose in wisps and long, languorous oriental coils to the clean
-ceiling. A sailor or two came in for his orders. Hushed voices
-talking apart, a direction to do this or that, a respectful
-business-like "yes, sir," a quiet withdrawal by the only door. It
-was all very calm, it had the atmosphere of a cruise, yet those
-aboard might have been torpedoed any minute, struck a mine, crashed
-into a submarine fooling about too near the surface (this has
-happened) or been sunk in thirty seconds by some hurrying, furtive
-brute of a liner which would have ridden over them as easily as a
-snake goes over a branch. The talk flowed in many channels, on the
-problems of destroyers, on the adventures of other boats, on members
-of the crew soon to be advanced to commissioned rating, and under the
-thought under the words, could be discerned the one fierce purpose of
-these fighting lives; the will to strike down the submarine and open
-the lanes of the sea. Oh, the vigilance, the energy, the keenness of
-the American patrol! There were tales of U-boats hiding in suspected
-bays, of merchantmen swiftly and terribly avenged, of voices that
-cried for help in the night, of life boats almost awash in whose foul
-waters the dead floated swollen and horrible. The war of the
-destroyer against the submarine is a matter of tragic melodrama.
-
-The wandering glow of the swaying lamp now was reflected from the
-varnished table to one keen young face, now to another. "Running a
-destroyer is a young man's game," says the Navy. True enough. Pray
-do not imagine them, as a crew of "hell-driving boys." The destroyer
-service is the achievement of the man in the early thirties, of the
-officer with a young man's vigour and energy and the resolution of
-maturity. After all, the Navy Department is not yet trusting vessels
-worth several million dollars and carrying over a hundred men to
-eager youngsters who have no background of experience to their
-energy, good-will and bravery. If you would imagine a destroyer
-captain, take your man of thirty-two or -three, give him blue eyes, a
-keen, clear-cut face essentially American in its features, a sailor's
-tan, and a sprinkling of grey hair. A type to remember, for to the
-destroyer captain more than to any other single figure do we owe our
-opportunity of winning the war.
-
-The evening waned, the officers who were to go on watch at twelve
-stole off to get a little sleep before being called. The navigator
-and the senior engineer slept on the transoms of the wardroom. A
-junior officer lingered beneath the solitary ever-swinging light,
-reading a magazine. A little hitch worked itself into the
-destroyer's motion, a swift upward leap, a little catch in mid air, a
-descent ending in a quiver. The voice of the waters grew louder,
-there were hissing splashes, watery blows, bubbly gurgles.
-
-The sleeping officers had not paused to undress. Nobody bothers to
-strip on a destroyer. There isn't time, and a man has to be ready on
-the instant for any eventuality.
-
-The door giving on a narrow passageway to the deck opened, and as it
-stood ajar, the hissing of the water alongside invaded the silent
-room. A sailor in a blue reefer, a big lad with big hands and
-simple, friendly face, entered quietly, walked over a transom and
-said:
-
-"Twelve o'clock, sir."
-
-"All right, Simmons," said the engineer, sitting up and kicking off
-the clothes at once with a quick gesture. Then he swung his legs
-over the side of the bunk, pulled on a coat and hat and wandered out
-to take his trick at the bridge.
-
-He found a lovely, starlit night, a night rich in serenity and
-promised peace, a night for lovers, a poet's night. There was
-phosphorescence in the water, and as the destroyer rolled from side
-to side, now the guns and rails to port, now those to starboard stood
-shaped against the spectral trail of foam running river-like
-alongside. One could see some distance ahead over the haunted plain.
-The men by the guns were changing watch; black figures came down the
-lane by the funnels. A sailor was drawing cocoa in a white enamel
-cup from a tap off the galley wall. The hatchway leading to the
-quarters of the crew was open; it was dark within; the engineer heard
-the wiry creak of a bunk into which some one had just tumbled. The
-engineer climbed two little flights of steps to the bridge. It was
-just midnight. It was very still on the bridge, for all of the ten
-or twelve people standing by. All very quiet and rather solemn. One
-can't escape from the rich melodrama of it all. The bridge was a
-little, low-roofed space perhaps ten feet wide and eight feet long,
-it had a front wall shaped like a wide, outward pointing V, its sides
-and rear were open to the night. The handful of officers and men on
-watch stood at various points along the walls peering out into the
-darkness. Phosphorescent crests of low, breaking waves flecked the
-waters about; it was incredibly spectral. In the heart of the bridge
-burned its only light, a binnacle lamp burning as steadily as a light
-in the chancel of a darkened church, the glow cast the shadow of the
-helmsman and the bars of the wheel down upon the floor in radiations
-of light and shade like the stripes of a Japanese flag. The captain,
-keeping a sharp lookout over the bow, gave his orders now and then to
-the helmsman, a petty officer with a sober, serious face.
-
-Suddenly there were steps on the companionway behind, the dark
-outline of some messenger appeared, a shadow on a background of
-shades. The sailor peered round for his chief and said, "Mr. Andrews
-sent me up, sir, to report hearing a depth bomb or a mine explode at
-12.25."
-
-"Was it very loud, Williams?"
-
-"Yes, sir, I should have said that it wasn't more than a few miles
-away. We all heard it quite distinctly down below."
-
-Evidently some devil's work was going on in the heart of the
-darkness. The vibration had travelled through the water and had been
-heard, as always, in that part of the ship below the water line.
-
-Williams withdrew. The destroyer rushed on into the romantic night.
-
-"Must have spotted something on the surface," said some one.... A
-radio operator appeared with a sheaf of telegrams. "Submarine seen
-in latitude x and longitude y," "Derelict awash in position so and
-so." "Gun fire heard off Cape Z at half past eleven"--it all had to
-do with the channel zone to the south. The captain shoved the sheaf
-into a pocket of his jacket.
-
-Suddenly, through the dark, was heard a hard, thundering pound.
-
-"By jingo, there's another," said somebody. "Nearby, too. Wonder
-what's up?"
-
-"Sounded more like a torpedo this time," said an invisible speaker in
-a heavy, dogged voice. A stir of interest gripped the bridge; one
-could see it in the shining eyes of the young helmsman. Two of the
-sailors discussed the thing in whispers, fragments of conversation
-might have been overheard.--"No, I should have said off the port
-bow." "Isn't this about the place where the _Welsh Prince_ got
-hers?" "Listen, didn't you hear something then?"
-
-From somewhere in the distance came three long blasts, blasts of a
-deep roaring whistle.
-
-"Something's up, sure!"
-
-The destroyer, in obedience to an order of the captain, took a sharp
-turn to port, and turning, left far behind a curving, luminous trail
-upon the sea. The wind was dying down. Again there were steps on
-the way.
-
-"Distress signal, sir," said the messenger from the radio room, a
-shock-haired lad who spoke with the precise intonation of a Bostonian.
-
-The captain stepped to the side of the binnacle, lowered the flimsy
-sheet into the glow of the lamp, and summoned his officers. The
-message read: "S.S. _Zemblan_, position x y z torpedoed, request
-immediate assistance."
-
-An instant later several things happened all at once. The "general
-quarters" alarm bell which sends every man to his station began to
-ring, full speed ahead was rung on in the engine room, and the
-destroyer's course was altered once more. Men began to tumble up out
-of the hatchways, figures rushed along the dark deck; there were
-voices, questions, names. The alarm bell rang as monotonously as an
-ordinary door bell whose switch has jammed. But soon one sound, the
-roaring of the giant blowers sucking in air for the forced draught in
-the boiler room, overtopped and crushed all other fragments of noise,
-even as an advancing wave gathers into itself and destroys pools and
-rills left along the beach by the tide. A roaring sound, a deep
-windy hum. Gathering speed at once, the destroyer leaped ahead. And
-even as violence overtook the lives and works of men, the calm upon
-the sea became ironically more than ever assuring and serene.
-
-[Illustration: To enjoy their leisure between watches these officers
-of an American destroyer lash themselves into their seats. A
-destroyer travelling at high speed in a heavy sea is like a bucking
-broncho.]
-
-"Good visibility," said somebody on the bridge. "She can't be more
-than three miles away now. Hello, there's a rocket."
-
-A faint bronzy golden trail, suddenly flowering into a drooping
-cluster of darting white lights gleamed for a furtive instant among
-the westering winter stars.
-
-"I saw her, sir!" cried one of the lookouts.
-
-"Where is she, O'Farrell?"
-
-"Quite a bit to the left of the rocket, sir. She's settling by the
-head."
-
-The beautiful night closed in again. O'Farrell and the engineer
-continued to peer out into the dark. Suddenly both of them cried
-out, using exactly the same words at exactly the same time, "Torpedo
-off the port bow, sir!"
-
-The thing had become visible in an instant. It could be seen as a
-rushing white streak in the dark water, and was coming towards the
-destroyer with the speed of an express train, coming like a bullet
-out of a gun.
-
-The captain uttered a quick word of command. The wheel spun, the
-roaring, trembling ship turned in the dark. A strange thing
-happened. Just as the destroyer had cleared the danger line, the
-torpedo, as if actuated by some malevolent intelligence, porpoised,
-and actually turned again towards the vessel. The fate of the
-destroyer lay on the knees of the gods. Those on the bridge
-instinctively braced themselves for the shock. The affair seemed to
-be taking a long time, a terribly long time. An instant later, the
-contrivance rushed through the foaming wake of the destroyer only a
-few yards astern, and continuing on, disappeared in the calm and
-glittering dark. A floating red light suddenly appeared just ahead
-and at the same moment all caught sight of the _Zemblan_.
-
-She was hardly more than half a mile away. Somebody aboard her had
-evidently just thrown over one of those life buoys with a
-self-igniting torch attachment, and this buoy burned a steady orange
-red just off that side on which the vessel was listing. The dark,
-stricken, motionless bulk leaned over the little pool of orange
-radiance gleaming in a fitful pool; round the floating torch one
-could see vague figures working on a boat by the stern, and one
-figure walking briskly down the deck to join them. There was not a
-sign of any explosion, no breakage, no splintered wood. Some ships
-are stricken, and go to their death in flames and eddying steam, go
-to their death as a wounded soldier goes; other ships resemble a
-strong man suddenly stricken by some incurable and mysterious
-disease. The unhappy _Zemblan_ was of this latter class. There were
-two boats on the water, splashing their oars with a calm regularity
-of the college crews; there were inarticulate and lonely cries.
-
-Away from the light, and but vaguely seen against the midnight sky,
-lay a British patrol boat which had happened to be very close at
-hand. And other boats were signalling--"_Zemblan_--am coming." The
-sloop signalled the destroyer that she would look after the
-survivors. Cries were no longer heard. Round and round the ship in
-great sweeps went the destroyer, seeking a chance to be of use,--to
-avenge. Other vessels arrived, talked by wireless and disappeared
-before they had been but vaguely seen.
-
-Just after two o'clock, the _Zemblan's_ stem rose in the air, and
-hung suspended motionless. The tilted bulk might have been a rock
-thrust suddenly out of the deep towards the starry sky. Then
-suddenly, as if released from a pose, the stern plunged under,
-plunged as if it were the last act of the vessel's conscious will.
-
-The destroyer cruised about till dawn. A breeze sprang up with the
-first glow of day, and scattered the little wreckage which had
-floated silly-solemnly about. Nothing remained to tell of an act
-more terrible than murder, more base than assassination.
-
-
-
-
-XV
-
-CAMOUFLAGE
-
-In the annals of the Navy one may read of many a famous duel, and if
-the code duello were in existence to-day, I feel certain that the
-present would not be less fiery than the past. The subject which
-stirs up all the discussion is camouflage. To ask at a crowded
-table: "What do you think of camouflage," is to hurl a very apple of
-discord down among your hosts. For there will be some who will stand
-by camouflage to the last bright drop of blood, and strive to win you
-to their mind with tales that do "amaze the very faculties of eyes
-and ears." You will hear of ships melting into cloud, of vessels
-apparently going full speed backward, of ships whose funnels have one
-and all been rendered invisible. And now the mocker is sure to ask
-the pro-camouflager in the most serious of tones if he ever saw the
-ship disguised as a sunset which the Germans unhappily discovered on
-a rainy day. The signal gun of the anti-camouflage squad now having
-sounded, the assault begins with a demand of "What's your theory?"
-The pro's reply something about breaking up spaces of colour, optical
-illusions--"if you draw horizontal lines along a boat's hull, she
-will appear longer; if you draw vertical or angular parallels, the
-vessel will appear shorter." The anti's answer that such an
-expedient might possibly, just possibly, deceive an idiot child for
-exactly five and one-eighths seconds, as for deceiving a wily
-Hun,--Good Night! "Do you mean to tell me," cries the devotee of
-camouflage, growing angry, "that a ship painted one flat, dead colour
-is less visible against the sea than one whose surface is broken up
-into many colours?" "Yes, that's what I mean," retorts the anti.
-"You know as well as I do that a thing that looks like Vesuvius in
-eruption is ten times more easily seen than a boat painted a dull
-neutral grey."
-
-"Yes," cries some one else, "but hasn't camouflage on land proved its
-utility?" "I'm talking about naval camouflage," answers the anti.
-"On land your camouflaged object is usually stationary itself, and
-stands in relation to a surface which is always stationary,--the
-surrounding landscape. Out here, both surfaces, sea and vessel, are
-constantly in motion and constantly changing their relation to each
-other." "But I _saw_ a boat--" begins a pro. "Oh, cut it out,"
-cries somebody else wholeheartedly, and the discussion ends exactly
-where a thousand others have ended.
-
-Whether camouflage be valuable or not, it certainly is the fad of the
-hour. The good, old-fashioned, one-colour boat has practically
-disappeared from the seas, and the ships that cross the ocean in
-these perilous times have been docked to make a cubist holiday; the
-futurists are saving democracy. There are countless tricks. I
-remember seeing one boat with a false water line floating in a
-painted sea whose roaring waves contrasted oddly with a frightfully
-placid horizon, and I recall another with the silhouette of a
-schooner painted on her side. I remember a little tramp
-remorselessly striped, funnels and all with alternate slanting bands
-of apple-green and snuff brown; I have an indistinct memory of a
-terrible mess of milky-pink, lemon-yellow and rusty black, which
-earned for the vessel displaying it the odious title of "The Boil."
-We saw the prize monstrosity in midocean. Every school of camouflage
-had evidently had a chance at her. She was striped, she was
-blotched; she was painted in curves; she was slashed with jagged
-angles; she was bone grey; she was pink; she was purple; she was
-green; she was blue; she was egg yellow. To see her was to gasp and
-turn aside. We had quite a time picking a suitable name for her, but
-finally decided on the Conscientious Objector, though her full title
-was "The State of Mind of a C.O. on Being Sent to the Front."
-
-Finally destiny put in my path just the man I wanted to see, the
-captain of a British submarine. "What do you think of camouflage?" I
-asked.
-
-"Well," he answered, after a pause, "I can't remember that it ever
-hindered us from seeing a ship. Visibility at sea strikes me as
-being more a matter of mass than of colour. The optical illusion
-tricks are too priceless silly. Must amuse the Huns. You see if the
-eye does play him false, Fritz detects the error with his gauges."
-
-The P.C's, I am sure, will put this down as a bit of typical
-submarine "side." Indignant letters, care H.M.S. X999.
-
-
-
-
-XVI
-
-TRAGEDY
-
-Just at the fall of night, three days before, a weak and fragmentary
-wireless had cried forlornly over the face of the waters for
-immediate help, and had then ceased abruptly like a lamp blown out by
-a gust of wind. The destroyers, stationed here and there in the vast
-loneliness of the gathering dark, had heard and waited for "the
-position" of the disaster, but nothing more came through the night.
-Presently, it had begun to rain.
-
-And now for three interminable and tedious days and nights rain had
-been falling, falling with the monotony and purpose of water over a
-dam. There being little or no wind the drops fell straight as
-plummets from a sky flat as a vast ceiling, and the air reverberated
-with that murmuring hum which is the voice of the rain mingling with
-the sea. Rain greasy with oil it had gathered from the plates poured
-in little streams off the deck; drops hissed on the iron of the hot
-stacks. Clad in stout waterproof clothes, and wearing their
-waterproof hoods, the crew went casually about their duties, their
-hardy faces showing no sign of discomfort or weariness.
-
-It was about three o'clock in the afternoon of a January day.
-
-Presently the lookout, from his station on the mast, reported:
-"Floating object off starboard bow," and a few minutes later one of
-the watch on the bridge reported two more floating masses, this time
-visible to port. The destroyer was making her way into a vast field
-of wreckage. Within the radius of visibility, there lay, drifting
-silently about in the incessant rain, an incredible quantity of
-barrels, boxes, bits of wood, crates, vegetables, apples, onions,
-fragments of coke, life preservers and planks.
-
-"See if you can spot a name on anything," said the destroyer's
-captain. But though everybody looked carefully, not a sign of a name
-could be seen. Mile after mile went the destroyer down the rain
-lashed sea, mile after mile of wreckage opened before her.
-
-"Life boat ahead showing flag!"
-
-The captain raised to his eyes the pair of binoculars he wore hanging
-from his neck, and peered out of the window by the wheel.
-
-"Found her yet, sir?"
-
-"Yes ... it's a small grey boat. Barely afloat, I guess. They've
-got a shirt or something tied to a mast or an oar. We'll have a look
-at it. Tell Mullens to have a couple of men stand by with boat hooks
-in case we run alongside."
-
-The swamped boat, motionless as a stone in the driving rain, lay no
-more than half a mile off. Voices eagerly discussed the possibility
-of finding survivors.
-
-"Alive? Course they ain't. Why, the boat's awash."
-
-"Sure, but look at the flag."
-
-"Those poor guys are gonners long ago."
-
-Handled skilfully the destroyer crept alongside the motionless boat,
-and presently those on the bridge looked directly down upon it. It
-lay, floating on even keel, not more than six or seven feet off the
-starboard side, and was held up by its tanks. A red flannel shirt
-hung soggily against an upright pole, and coloured the shaft with the
-drippings of its dye. The interior of the boat was but a deep
-puddle, a dark puddle into which the rain fell monotonous and
-implacable. Floating face down and side by side in the water lay the
-fully clothed bodies of two men, whilst at the stern, sitting on a
-seat just under water, with his feet in the water and his body
-toppled over on the gunwale, could be seen a third figure dressed in
-a kind of seaman's jacket. The wet cloth of his trousers clung
-lightly to his thin legs and revealed the taut muscles of his thighs.
-Then boat hooks fished out from the side of the destroyer and drew
-the heavy craft in. A sailor cried out that all were dead.
-
-"Any name on the boat, Hardy?" asked the officer standing by.
-
-"No, sir."
-
-"Very well. Cast off!" The life boat, watched by some rather
-horrified eyes, slid alongside the destroyers, and drifted solemnly
-behind.
-
-"Now," said the captain, who had come on deck, "I want one tidy shot
-put into that boat, Butler."
-
-Ten seconds later, the roar of the four-inch at the stern burst
-asunder the murmur of the rain, and the watchers saw the boat of the
-dead crumple and disappear in the loneliness and rain.
-
-
-
-
-XVII
-
-"CONSOLIDATION, NOT COÖPERATION"
-
-Talking one day with an English member of the House of Commons, I
-asked him what he held to be the most important result of American
-intervention.
-
-"The spirit of coöperation which you have stirred up among the
-Allies," he answered. "Not that I mean to say that the Allies were
-continually quarrelling among themselves; the manner in which Britain
-has shared her ships with other hard pressed nations would refute any
-such insinuation, but not until you came on the scene was there a
-really scientific attempt at the coördination of our various forces.
-You were quite right to insist on a generalissimo. But of course the
-great lesson you've given us has been through your Navy. There's
-been nothing like it in the history of the allied forces. What an
-extraordinary position Admiral Sims has won in England! His
-influence is perfectly tremendous; there isn't another allied leader
-who has a tithe of his power. I really do not think that there is a
-parallel to it in English history."
-
-Now this is no over-statement of the case. The influence of Admiral
-Sims over the British people _is_ tremendous. All along he has had
-but one watchword, "Consolidation, not Coöperation." It is a
-splendid phrase, and Admiral Sims has turned it into action. The
-way, I gathered from various members of the Staff and the Embassy,
-had not been without its obstacles. For instance, once upon a time
-certain American forces were to be sent into a distant area, and a
-member of the Allied Naval Council sitting in London had taken the
-stand that the little force should be supplied from the United
-States. Immediately Admiral Sims pointed out that these American
-forces must be considered as _allied_ forces and must be supplied
-from the nearest and most convenient _allied_ sources of supply. And
-he carried the day. Not only has the Admiral insisted on the
-_consolidation_ of material forces; but he has also insisted on a
-consolidation of the allied spirit. Himself a master of diplomacy
-and tact, he loses no opportunity of reminding the individual
-officers under his control to bear in mind the good points of other
-services and to remember the fact that the success of this work would
-be directly affected by their relations with their comrades of the
-Great Cause. And this extraordinary consolidation of force and
-spirit is precisely the thing which more than anything else takes the
-attention of the visiting correspondent. "Consolidation, not
-Coöperation"--it is a phrase that well might have been our allied
-motto from the first.
-
-While in London, I had several talks with Admiral Sims in his office
-in Grosvenor Gardens. Of the many distinguished men it has been my
-lot to interview, Admiral Sims stands first for the ability to put a
-guest at ease. Tall, spare, erect, and walking with a fine carriage,
-our Admiral is a personality whom the interviewer can never forget.
-One has but to talk with him a few minutes to realize the secret of
-the extraordinary personal loyalty he inspires. And he is as popular
-in France as he is in England. Speaking French fluently, he is able
-to carry on discussion with the French members of the Naval Council
-in their own language.
-
-"Consolidation, not Coöperation." There's a real phrase. And thanks
-to the great man who said it and insisted upon it, we defeated the
-common enemy.
-
-
-
-
-XVIII
-
-MACHINE AGAINST MACHINE
-
-The year stood at the threshold of the spring; a promise of warmth
-lay in the climbing sun; on land one might have heard the first songs
-of the birds. At sea, the mists of winter were lifting from the
-waters, and the sun, for many months shrunk and silver pale, shone
-hard and golden bright. A fresh, clear wind was blowing from the
-west, driving ahead of it a multitude of low foam-streaked waves.
-There was not a sign of life to be seen anywhere on the vast disk of
-the sea, not a trail, not a smudge of smoke on the horizon's circle,
-not even a solitary gull or diver. The destroyer, dwarfed by her
-world, ran up and down the square she had been chosen to guard. She
-had the air of performing a casual evolution. There was never
-anything to be found in this particular square. It lay beyond the
-great highways; even the sight of a coaster was there something of a
-rarity. Periscopes were never reported from that area, never had
-been reported, and probably never would be. Caressed by the sun,
-enveloped in the serenity of the day as in a mantle, the destroyer
-went back and forth on her patrol.
-
-The emergence of the periscope a quarter of a mile ahead off the
-starboard bow had in it something so unattended that the incident had
-a character of abnormality ... much as if a familiar hill should
-suddenly turn into a volcano. It is greatly to the honour of the
-ship's discipline, that those aboard were not staled by months of
-unfruitful vigil, and acted as swiftly as if the destruction of a
-submarine were matter of daily practice. There it lay, going
-steadily along about two hundred yards away, ... a simple, most
-unromantic black rod rising two feet or so above the waves. A white
-furrow like a kind of comet's tail, streamed behind it, forever
-widening at the end. Later on, they asked themselves what the
-submarine could possibly have been doing. Seeking a quiet place to
-come up to breathe, to effect repairs, to send out a hurried wireless
-message?
-
-It might have been a rendezvous between the two vessels. One felt
-that the gods had brought to pass there no careless drama, but a
-tragedy long meditated and skillfully prepared. The morning sun
-watched, a casual spectator, the duel between the two engines of
-violence.
-
-There had been a command, a call of the summoning bell, a release of
-power carefully stored for just such an event, and the destroyer
-leaped ahead like a runner from the starting line. The periscope,
-meanwhile, continued to plough its way straight ahead almost into the
-teeth of the wind and the flattened, marbly waves. Presently, either
-because the destroyer had been seen or heard on the submarine
-telephone, the submarine began to submerge, sucking in a kind of a
-foaming hollow as she sank. Aboard the destroyer, they wondered if
-the keel would clear her, and waited for the shock, the rasping
-grind. But nothing happened. The first depth bomb fell into the
-heart of the submarine's swirl even as a well placed stone falls in
-the heart of a pool. Trembling to the roar of her fans, the
-destroyer fled across the spot, and turned. The wake of her passing
-had almost obliterated the platter-shaped swirl the submarine had
-left behind; one had a vision of the great steel cylinder tumbling,
-bubbling down through green water to dark, harmless as a spool of
-thread on the surface, but presently to be changed by the wisdom and
-cunning of men into monstrous and chaotic strength. One, two, three,
-four, five ... a thundering pound.... The submarine rose behind
-them, her bow on the crest of the geyser, an immense, tapering rusty
-mass, wet and shining in the placid glance of the day. From a kind
-of hole some distance up the side, a stream of oil ran much like
-blood from a small deep wound.... A gun spoke, and spoke again, a
-careening whizz, ... ugly hollow crashes of tearing steel ... the sub
-heeled far over on her starboard side ... those nearest heard, or
-thought they heard, screaming ... the bow sank, tilting up the great
-planes and propellers. A monstrous bubble or two broke on the
-tormented surface just before she disappeared ... and with her going,
-the calm of the spring morning, which had been frightened away like a
-singing bird, returned once more to the tragic and mysterious sea.
-
-
-
-
-XIX
-
-THE LEGEND OF KELLEY
-
-Kelley, not Von Biberstein or Hans Bratwurst, is his name, Kelley
-spelled with an "e." The first destroyer officer whom you question
-will very possibly have never heard of him, the second will have
-heard the legend, the third will tell you of a radio officer, a
-friend of his, who received one of Kelley's messages. So day by day
-the legend grows apace. Kelley is the captain of a German submarine.
-
-The first time that I heard about him he figured as a young Irishman
-of good family who had attached himself to the German cause in order
-to settle old scores. "Lots of people know him in the west of
-Ireland; he goes ashore there any time he cares to." Another
-version, perhaps the true one, if there be any truth at all in this
-fantastic business, is that Kelley is no Irishman but a cosmopolitan,
-jesting German with a Celtic camouflage. No less a person than
-Captain James Norman Hall testifies that the Germans in the trenches
-often tried to anger the British troops by pretending they were
-disloyal Irish. So perhaps Kelley is Von Biberstein after all. A
-third version has it that Kelley is a Californian of Irish origin.
-Those who hold to this last view have it that Kelley spares all
-American ships but sends the Union Jack to the bottom without mercy.
-
-Many and varied are Kelley's activities. He has penchant for sending
-messages. "I am in latitude x and longitude y; come and get
-me--Kelley," has come at the dead of night into the ears of many an
-astounded radio operator. Others declare that these messages were
-sent by Hans Rose, the skipper of the submarine which attacked the
-shipping off Nantucket in 1916. All agree that Kelley was the beau
-ideal of pirates. He sinks a ship and apologizes for his action, he
-sees the women passengers into the boats with the grace and urbanity
-of a Chesterfield, he comes alongside a wretched huddle of survivors,
-supplies them with food, and sends out notice of their position.
-When they ask his name, he replies "Captain Kelley," and disappears
-from view beneath the sea. He goes ashore, and proves his visit with
-theatre tickets and hotel bills. "London hotel bills made out to
-Kelley, Esquire." He requests the survivors as a slight favour to
-tell Captain Nameless of the Destroyer XYZ that his propeller shaft
-needs repairing; that he, Kelley, has been seriously annoyed by
-having to listen to the imperfect beat via the submarine telephone.
-There is certainly a flavour of Celt in this chivalry tinged with
-mockery.
-
-I could never find anybody who had actually seen him, much to my
-regret, for I should have been glad to describe so famous a person.
-Months have passed since last I heard of him. Perhaps he is still in
-the Irish Sea; perhaps he is now at Harwich, perhaps he has gone
-aloft to join his kinsman "The Flying Dutchman." If so, let us keep
-his memory green, for he was a pirate _sans peur et sans reproche_.
-
-
-
-
-XX
-
-SONS OF THE TRIDENT
-
-Any essay on the British sailor must rise from a foundation of
-wholesome respect. One cannot look at the master of the world
-without philosophy. And British Jack is the world's master, for he
-holds in his hands that mastery of the seas which is the mastery of
-the land. He is a sailor of the mightiest of all navies, an
-inheritor of the world's most remarkable naval tradition, a true son
-of Britannia's ancient trident.
-
-What is he like, British Jack? How does he impress those companions
-who share the vigil of the seas?
-
-To begin with the Briton is, on the average, an older man than our
-bluejacket. British Jack has not gone into the Royal Navy "for the
-fun of it" or "to see the world," as our posters say, but as the
-serious business of his life. His enlistment is an eight-year
-affair, and by the time that he has completed it, he rarely thinks of
-returning to a prosaic life ashore. Thus it comes about that whilst
-our American sailors are usually somewhere in the eager,
-irresponsible twenties, British tars are often men of sober middle
-age. One is sure to see, in any of the "home ports," the fleet's
-married men out walking on Sunday with their wives and children,
-forming together a number of honest, steady little groups whose hold
-on the durable satisfactions of life it is a pleasure to see. The
-"home ports" idea has well proved its value. It is simple enough in
-operation. Each ship, according to the plan, bases on some definite
-port, thus permitting poor Jack (who has enough of roaming at sea) to
-have a steady home on land. In all the great British bases,
-therefore, you will find these sailor colonies. I was well
-acquainted with a retired Navy chaplain who ministered to such a
-group. These families form a distinct group dependent on the Navy.
-Marriages are performed by the naval chaplain, the ills of the flesh
-are looked after by the fleet surgeons, and the rare troubles are
-brought to the judgment of Jack's favourite officers.
-
-Our American crews are gathered together from all over the vast
-continent, British crews are often recruited from one section of the
-country. For instance, a ship manned by a crew from "out o' Devon"
-is known as a "West Country" ship and its sailors as "Westos." A
-real Royal Navy man knows in an instant the character of any ship
-which he happens to visit. The drawled "oa's" and oe's" of the West
-tell the story. I once heard a "Westo" refer to an officious wharf
-tender as a "bloody to-ad," a phrase that certainly has character.
-Then there be ships based on Irish ports. Indeed, there are sure to
-be Irish sailors on every ship, irresponsible, keen-witted Celts to
-whom all devilment is entrusted.
-
-The war has not been without influence on the naval personnel.
-British Jack had, in his own social system, a place of his own. He
-is not looked down upon, for the British bluejacket has been, is, and
-forever ought to be the best loved of national figures. Sons of
-"gentlemen," however, I use the word here in its British sense, did
-not join the Royal Navy as enlisted men. Such a thing would have
-been regarded as "queer" (no mild word, in Britain), and the crew
-certainly would have looked upon any such arrival as an intruder.
-But just as the war has placed University men side by side in the
-ranks with troopers like Kipling's Ortheris, so has it placed among
-the enlisted personnel of the Royal Navy a large number of men from
-the educated and wealthier class. There hung in the Royal Academy
-this spring a portrait of a British bluejacket, a pleasant-looking
-lad some nineteen or twenty years of age with blond hair, a long face
-and honest eyes of English grey. It was entitled "My Son." Almost
-invariably the older visitors to the exhibition, when looking at this
-picture, would fall to talking of the change in the social system
-which the portrait symbolized.
-
-There are always a number of boys on British ships, for the British
-hold that to be a good sailor, one should early become familiar with
-the sea. The status of "boy" is a kind of distinct rating, and these
-youngsters are addressed by their last names, viz., Boy Bumblechook
-or Boy Stiggins. They have shown up wonderfully well. One has but
-to recall little Cornell of Jutland to see of what stuff these lads
-are made.
-
-The British sailor's uniform is picturesque and characteristic, but
-certainly less attractive than ours. It is cut not of broadcloth or
-of serge, but of heavy blue worsted, and a detachable collar of blue
-linen falls back upon the blouse. Our sailors are forever washing
-the blouses to keep the white stripes of the collar clean; the Briton
-has only his collar to care for. And there is a difference between
-the national builds as marked as the difference twixt the uniforms.
-Our Jack is rangy, lean and quick-moving, the Briton heavier,
-shorter, and more deliberate. In hours of leisure, the Briton busies
-himself with knitting, wood-carving or weaving rag rugs; the
-American, driven by the mechanical genius of the nation, hurries to
-the ship's machine shop to pound a half-crown into a ring.
-
-The sons of Columbia and the sons of Britannia get on very well
-together. At the big club house at the Irish base, there are always
-little groups of British sailors to be seen, quiet, well-behaved
-fellows who watch everything with British dignity. Our bluejackets,
-however, are far more chummy with British soldiers than with Britons
-of their own calling. Navy blue and khaki are forever going down the
-street arm in arm. The tar is always keen to hear of the front.
-Tommy does the talking. After all, there is a difference in the
-vernacular. Witness this poem which I reprint from the August number
-of _Our Navy_. It is by a Navy man, Mr. R. P. Maulsley. The word
-Limey, here shortened to "Lima," means, used as a noun, a British
-sailorman; used as an adjective, British. The term had its origin in
-the ancient British custom of giving lime juice to ward off scurvy.
-
-THE LIMA AND THE YANKS
-
-By R. P. Maulsley
-
- It was nice and cozy in the "Pub,"
- And blowing cold outside.
- By the fireplace sat two gobbies,
- America's joy and pride.
-
- When a Lima from a cruiser
- Thought their talk he'd like to hear,
- And sat down just behind them,
- With a half o' pint of beer.
-
- And o'er a flowing mug of ale,
- That held about a quart,
- He heard them swapping stories
- About their stay in port.
-
- "Say, this is sure some burg,
- Tho' it ain't the U.S.A.,
- But did you pipe the classy Jane,
- That passed us on the quay?
-
- "She gave me some sweet smile, bo,
- And winked her pretty eye,"
- "Get out, you big hay-maker,
- It was for me she meant to sigh."
-
- "G'wan you homely piece of cheese,
- You're talkin' thru' your hat,
- I'll betsha just ten plasters,
- It was me she was smiling at."
-
- "I'll take that up old-timer,
- Why, that's some easy dough,
- We'll have another round,
- And then we'll have to blow.
-
- "And if I lamp that broad, kid,
- And she cottons to me quick,
- I'll buy her everything in town,
- And make that ten look sick."
-
- They arose and left the Lima,
- A gasping in some chairs,
- And as they left the room,
- He heard them on the stairs.
-
- "Like candy from a baby,
- I'll take your coin this day,
- And have a high old time and--
- Say, how did you get that way?"
-
- The Lima emptied his tankard,
- And caught the barmaid's eye,
- "I 'eard them Yanks a tarkin',
- But what the bloomin' ell'd they seye?"
-
-
-
-
-XXI
-
-THE FLEET
-
-The fleet lay in the Firth of Forth. It was one o'clock in the
-afternoon, and the little suburban train which leaves and pauses at
-the Edinburgh Grand Fleet pier had not yet been brought to its
-platform. The cold sunlight of a northern spring fell upon the vast,
-empty station, and burnished the lines of rail beyond the entrance
-arch. Two porters from the adjoining hotel, wearing coats of
-orange-red with dull brass buttons, stood lackadaisically by a
-booking office closed for the dinner hour. Presently, after a
-piercing shriek intensified by the surrounding quiet, the suburban
-train backed in with a smooth, crawling noise. Various folk began to
-appear on the platform, a group of young British naval officers, a
-handful of older sailors, a captain carrying a small leather affair
-much like a miniature suit-case, a number of civilians, two "Jacks"
-evidently on furlough, and a young sailor lad with a fine bull
-terrier bitch on a leash. No one entered to share my compartment.
-The train left behind the clean, grim town ... rolled on through
-suburbs and through fields barely awake to the spring ... paused here
-and there at tidy, little stations ... reached the station above the
-pier. Somewhat uncertain of my path to the landing, I followed a
-group of officers. A middle-aged soldier sentry with grey hair and
-ruddy cheeks held me up for my pass, unfolded and folded it again
-with extraordinary deliberation, and courteously set me on my way.
-As yet there was no sign of the sea, nor had it once been visible
-during the journey. One might have been on the way to play golf at
-an inland field. The path to the pier descended a great flight of
-steps and passed a space in which men were playing football.... A
-turn down a bit of road, and I was looking at the fleet.
-
-It lay in the great firth, in a monstrous estuary enclosed between
-barren banks rising to no great height. Bare, scattered woodlands
-were to be seen, a clump of cottages, a castellated house in a
-solitary spot, a great wharf with a trumpery traveller's bookstall in
-a wooden shed at its entrance, a huddle of grey roofs at the water's
-edge on the distant side. Over a spur of land the smoke of a giant
-dockyard rose in a hazy reek to the obscured and silvery sun. The
-water in which the squadrons lay was for the moment as calm as a
-woodland pool; in colour, green-grey.... An incredible number of
-ships of war lying lengthwise in orderly lines, bows turned to the
-unseen river of the rising tide, ... row after row, squadron after
-squadron, fleet after fleet, ships of war, dark, terrible and huge,
-no more to be counted than the leaves of trees. As far as the eye
-could reach up and down the firth, ships. One beheld there the
-mastery of the sea made visible, the mastery of all the highways and
-the secret paths of the waters of earth. Because of this fleet ships
-were able to bring grain from distant fields, great hopes were kept
-aflame, and the life blood of evil ambitions poured upon the ground.
-A grey haze lay at the mouth of the roads and somewhere in the heart
-of it was target practice being held, for violent blots of light
-again and again burst open the dim and veiling fog. Small gulls
-passed on motionless wings, whistling. Now and then a vessel would
-run up a tangle of flags. The signal light of a flagship suddenly
-uttered a message with intermittent flashes of an unnatural violet
-white glare.
-
-Over earth and sea brooded the peace of empire.
-
-
-
-
-XXII
-
-THE AMERICAN SQUADRON
-
-The morning found me a guest aboard the flagship of the American
-battleship squadron attached to the Grand Fleet. Going on deck, I
-found the sun struggling through thin, motionless mists. A layer of
-webby drops lay on wall and rail, on turret and gun. Presently a
-little cool wind, blowing from the land, fled over the calm water in
-mottled, scaly spots, bringing with it a piping beat of rhythmic
-music. Half a mile beyond the flagship, the crew of a British
-warship were running in a column round and round her decks to the
-music of the ship's band. An endless file of white clad figures bent
-forward, a faint regular tattoo of running feet. Round and about
-several of the giants were signalling in blinker. Beyond us stood a
-titanic bridge, whose network was here and there smouched with
-clinging vapour, and beneath this giant, a tanker laden with oil for
-the fleet passed solemnly, followed by wheeling gulls. Presently two
-American sailors, lads of that alert, eager type that is so intensely
-and honestly American, popped out of a doorway and began to polish
-bright work.
-
-America was there.
-
-Surely it was one of the finest thoughts of the war to send this
-squadron of ours. Putting aside for the instant any thought of the
-squadron as a unit of naval strength, Americans and Britons will do
-well to consider it rather as a splendid symbol of a union dedicated
-to the most honourable of purposes, to the defence of that ideal of
-fraternity and international good faith now menaced. They say that
-when the American squadron came steaming into the fleet's more
-northern base one bitter winter day, cheer after cheer broke from the
-British vessels as they passed, till even the forlorn, snow-covered
-land rang with the shouting.
-
-It has recently been announced that our battleship squadron is under
-the command of Admiral Hugh Rodman, which announcement the Germans
-must have taken to heart, for Admiral Rodman is a man of action if
-ever one there was. Tall, strongly built, vigorous and alert, he
-dominates whatever group he happens to find himself in by sheer force
-of personality. It would fare ill with a German who brought his
-fleet under the sweep of those keen eyes. Admiral Rodman is a
-Kentuckian, and a union of blue grass and blue sea is pretty hard to
-beat, especially when accompanied by a shrewd sense of humour.
-
-I talked with Admiral Rodman about the squadron and its work.
-
-"Always remember," said he, "that this squadron is not over here, as
-somebody put it, 'helping the British.' Nor are we 'coöperating'
-with the British fleet. Such ideas are erroneous, and would mislead
-your readers. Think of this great fleet which you see here as a unit
-of force, controlled by one ideal, one spirit and one mind, and of
-the American squadron as an integral part of that fleet. Take, as an
-instance of what I mean, the change in our signalling system. We
-came over here using the American system of signals. Well, we could
-not have two sets of signals going, so in order to get right into
-things, we learned the British signals, and it's the British system
-we are using to-day.... There are American _ships_ here and British
-ships but _only one fleet_.
-
-Everywhere I went, I found both British and American officers keen to
-emphasize this unity. Said a Briton---"Why we no longer think of the
-Americans of 'the Americans'; we think of squadron X of the fleet.
-It's just wonderful the way your chaps have got down to business and
-fallen in with the technique and the traditions. We expected to see
-you spend some time getting into the life of the fleet and all that,
-you know; the sort of thing that a boy in a public school goes
-through before he gets the spirit and the ways of the place, but your
-people came along in the morning and had picked up everything by the
-afternoon." And I found the Americans proud of the fleet's essential
-oneness, proud to share in its great tradition, and to be a part of
-its history. America is taking no obscure place. Her hosts have
-given her the place of honour in the battle line.
-
-[Illustration: An American battleship fleet leaving the harbor]
-
-Battle--that was the thought of everybody aboard the fleet. If only
-the German "High Canal" fleet would really come out and fight it to a
-finish, or as an American lieutenant put it, "start something." The
-Germans, however, knew only too well that the famous betoasted _Der
-Tag_ would turn swiftly into a _Dies Iræe_ and preferred to
-surrender. So for lack of an antagonist, the fleet had to be content
-to keep steam up all the time and to know that everything was
-prepared for a day of battle. But the fleet did far more than wait.
-No statement of the Germans was more empty of truth than the silly
-cry that the British fleet lies "skulking in harbour for fear of
-submarines." The fleet was busy all the time. Again and again, a
-visible defiance, it swept by the mine sealed mouths of the German
-bases. For five years now, the fleet has been on a war footing
-prepared for instant action, a tremendous task this. "If they only
-had come out, the beggars."
-
-A day with the fleet in port passed casually and calmly enough.
-There was none of that melodrama which invests the war of the
-destroyer and the submarine, and human problems seemed to lack
-importance, for in the fleet man is somewhat shadowed by the immense
-force he has created. On board there were various drills, perhaps a
-general quarters practice drill that sends everybody scurrying to his
-station. Hour after hour, the visitor sees the continuous and
-multitudinous activity needed to keep a dreadnaught in shape as a
-fortress, an engine, and a ship. Then, when the evening has come,
-such officers as are off duty may sit down to a game of bridge or go
-to their rooms to read or study quietly. There are great days when
-kings and queens come aboard and are royally entertained. Twice a
-week the entertainment committee of the fleet sent round a steel box
-full of "movies." However, everybody enjoys them, and laughs. But
-it is good to escape on deck again, and see the squadron and the
-fleet beneath the haloed moon.
-
-The shores about are quite in darkness, though now and then a glow
-appears over the hidden dockyard as if some one there had opened a
-furnace door. A little breeze is blowing a thin, flat sheet of cloud
-across the moon; one can hear water slapping against the sides. The
-sailors on watch walk up and down the decks, shouldering their guns.
-In the light one might believe the basketry of the woven masts to be
-spun of delicate silver bars. Behind us ride the other vessels of
-the squadron, a row of dark, triangular shapes. The great columnar
-guns, sealed with a brazen plug, seem mute and dead. The curtain of
-a hatchway parts, and a little group of officers come on deck to
-watch a squadron go to sea. One by one the vessels, battleships and
-attendant destroyers glide past us into the dark, and so swift and
-silent their motion is that they seem to be less self-propelled than
-drawn forward by some mysterious force dwelling far beyond in the
-moonlit sea. A slight hiss of cleaving water, the length of a
-hurrying grey fortress beneath the moon, and the last of the squadron
-vanishes down the roads. For a little time one may see the
-diminishing glares of blinker lights. Squadrons of various kinds are
-forever leaving a fleet base to go on mysterious errands, squadrons
-are ever returning home from the mystery and silence of the sea.
-
-A friend comes to tell me that we have been put on "short notice,"
-and may leave at any instant.
-
-
-
-
-XXIII
-
-TO SEA WITH THE FLEET
-
-On the morning of the day that the fleet went out, there was to be
-felt aboard that tensity which follows on a "short notice" warning.
-Officers rushed into the wardroom for a hasty cup of coffee and
-hurried back to their beloved engines; the bluejackets, too, knew
-that something was in the air. A visitor to the flagship will not
-have to study long the faces of his hosts to see that they are an
-exceptional lot of men. Whilst among the destroyers there is a good
-deal of the grey-eyed ram-you, damn-you type; on a battleship there
-is a union of the elements of thought and action which is very fine
-to see. Nor is the artist element lacking in many a countenance. I
-remember a chief engineer whose ability as an engineer was a word in
-the fleet; it was easy to see, when he took you through his
-marvellous engine room, that he enjoyed his labour as much for the
-wonder of the delicacy, the power and the precision of his giant
-engines as he did for their mere mechanical side of pressures and
-horsepower. Nor shall I ever see a more perfect example of
-coördination and competence than a turret drill at which I was
-invited to assist. From the distinguished young executive to the
-lowest rated officer in "the steerage," every man brought to his task
-not only an expert's understanding of it, but a love of his work,
-which, I think it is Kipling that says it, is the most wonderful
-thing in all the world. The vessel was very much what Navy folk call
-a "happy ship." I must say the prospect of going out with the fleet
-and with such a wonderful crowd did not make me keenly miserable.
-"If they only would come out, ah, if...!"
-
-"So we are still on an hour's notice," I said to one of my hosts in
-the hope of getting some information.
-
-"Yes, back again. At two o'clock this morning the time was extended,
-but after seven we were put back on short time once more."
-
-"I suppose the time is always shifting and changing?"
-
-"Yes, indeed. You know we are always on an hour's notice. Pretty
-short, isn't it? You see we don't want the Germans to get away with
-anything if we can help it. Got to be ready to sail right down and
-smash them. Nobody knows just why the time changes come. Somebody
-knows something of course. Perhaps one of the British submarines on
-outpost duty off the German coast has seen something, and sent it
-along by wireless.
-
-I asked about the German watch on the British bases.
-
-"Subs. Everybody's doing it. I suppose that two or three are
-hanging off this coast all the time trying to get a squint at the
-fleet. It's what we call keeping a 'periscope watch' ... run by the
-naval intelligence. Little good anything they pick up about us does
-the Germans! Safety first is their daring game. What they are
-itching to do is to pick off one of our patrol squadrons that's gone
-on a little prospecting toot all by itself. They'd try, I think, if
-they weren't mighty well aware that not a single ship of the crowd
-that did the stunt would ever get back to the old home canal."
-
-Presently a sailor messenger arrived, stood to attention, saluted
-snappily, and presented a paper. The officer read and signed.
-
-"You're in luck," said he. "We are going out ... due to leave in
-three hours. Whole fleet together, evidently. Something's on for
-sure.... Hope they're out." And off he hurried to his quarters. I
-saw "the exec." going from place to place taking a look at
-everything. Pretty soon the chaplain of the flagship, an officer to
-whose friendly welcome and thoughtful courtesy I am in real debt,
-came looking for me.
-
-"Come along," he cried, "you are missing the show. They're beginning
-to go out already. You ought to be on deck," and seizing me by the
-arm, he rushed me energetically up a companionway to the world
-without. There I learned that the departure of the Grand Fleet was
-no simultaneous movement such as the start of an automobile convoy,
-but a kind of tremendous process occupying several hours. The scout
-vessels, were to go first, then the various classes of cruisers and
-the destroyer flotillas with whom they acted in concert, last of all
-the squadrons of battleships. Our own sailing time was three hours
-distant and the outward movement had already begun.
-
-[Illustration: Even a super-dreadnought is wet at times]
-
-The day was a pleasant one, the sun was shining clear and a fresh
-salty breeze was blowing down the estuary. The officers, however,
-shook their heads, talked of "low visibility," and pointed out that
-an invisible mist hung over the water, whose cumulative effect was
-not at all to their liking. First there went out a new variety of
-submarine, steam submarines of extraordinary size and speed; there
-followed a swift procession of destroyers and lighter cruisers, many
-signalling with blinker and flag. The outgoing of the destroyers was
-a sight not to be forgotten, for more than anything else did it
-impress upon me the titanic character of the fleet. _Destroyers
-passed one every fifty seconds for a space of many hours_. You would
-hear a hiss, and a lean, low rapier of a vessel would pass within a
-hundred yards of the flagship and hurry on, rolling, into the waiting
-haze of the open sea, and as you watched this first vessel leave your
-bow astern, you would hear another watery hiss prophetic of the
-following boat. On our own vessel all boats had long before been
-hoisted to their places; there were mysterious crashing noises, bugle
-calls, a deal of orderly action. Time passed; a long time full of
-movement and stir. The greater vessels began to go out, titans of
-heroic name, _The Iron Duke_, _Queen Elizabeth_, _Lion_. A broad
-swirling road of water lay behind them as one by one they melted into
-that ever mysterious obscurity ahead. Then with a jar, and a torrent
-of crashing iron thunder dreadful as a disintegration of the universe
-itself, our own immense anchor chains rose from the water below, and
-the American flagship got under way. We looked with a meditative eye
-on the bare shores of the firth wondering what adventures we were to
-have before we saw them again. Behind us the mist gathered, ahead,
-it melted away. And thus we stood out to the open sea. Night came,
-starlit and cold. Just at sun-down one of the British ships
-destroyed a floating mine with gun fire. I sought information from
-an officer friend.
-
-"What about the mine problem?"
-
-"Never bothers us a bit, though the Germans have planted mines
-everywhere. This North Sea is as full of them as a pudding is of
-plums."
-
-"Why is it then that the fleet doesn't lose ships when out on these
-expeditions?"
-
-"Because the British mine sweepers have done so bully a job."
-
-"But once you get beyond the swept channels at the harbour mouths,
-what then?"
-
-"The mine-sweepers attend to the whole North Sea."
-
-"You mean to say that the Admiralty actually clears an ocean of
-mines?"
-
-"To all intents and purposes, yes. Haven't you read of naval
-skirmishes in the North Sea? They are always having them. Many of
-those skirmishes take place between patrol boats of ours and enemy
-patrols. Of course it's a task, but the British have done it. One
-of the most wonderful achievements of the war."
-
-"Suppose the Germans try to reach the British coast?"
-
-"They do their best to find the British path. As a result, the
-Germans are always either bumping into their own mines or into ours.
-I feel pretty sure that their loss from mines has been quite heavy."
-
-"Where, then, are the German cruising grounds? Doesn't their fleet
-get out once in a while?"
-
-"Not to the outer sea. Once in a while they parade up the Danish
-coast, never going more than two or three hours from their base. Our
-steady game, of course, is to nab them when they are out, and cut off
-their retreat. If the weather had held good at Jutland, this would
-have been done. But the Germans now hardly ever venture out.
-Destroyers of theirs, based on the Belgian coast, try to mix things
-up in the Channel once or twice a year, but the fleet seems to stick
-pretty closely to dear old Kiel."
-
-"Any more information in regard to this present trip?"
-
-"Not a thing. It's always mysterious like this. Yet in twenty
-minutes we may be right in the thick of the world's greatest naval
-battle."
-
-The next morning I rose at dawn to see the fleet emerge from the dark
-of night. A North Sea morning was at hand, cold, windy and clear.
-Now seas have their characters even as various areas of land, and
-there is as much difference between the North Sea and the Irish Sea
-as there is between a rocky New England pasture and a stretch of
-prairie. The shallow North Sea is in colour an honest salty, ocean
-green, and its surface is ever in motion; a sea without respite or
-rest. It has a franker, more masculine character than the
-beleaguered sea to the west with its mottlings of shadow and shoal
-and weaving, white-crested tide rips. A great armament, scouts,
-destroyers, and light cruisers had already passed over the edge of
-the world, and only a very thin haze revealed their presence. Miles
-ahead of us in a great lateral line, a number of great warships, vast
-triangular bulks, ploughed along side by side, then came the American
-squadron in a perpendicular line, each vessel escorted by destroyers.
-Behind us, immense, stately, formidable and dark, the second American
-ship followed down the broad river of our wake which flowed like
-liquid marble from the beat of the propellers. And behind the
-American squadron lay other ships, and over the horizon the bows of
-more ships still were pointing to the mine-strewn German coast. The
-Grand Fleet line, _eighty miles long_, rode the sea, a symbol of
-power, an august and visible defiance. Standing beneath the forward
-turret, beside the muzzles of the titan guns, I felt that I had at
-last beheld the mightiest element of the war.
-
-Tightly wrapped in a navy great coat, the young officer whose guest I
-had been at turret drill walked up and down the deck watching the
-southeastern horizon. What eagerness lay in his eyes! If we only
-might then have heard a heavy detonation from over the edge of the
-dawn-illumined sky! ... All day long we cried our challenge over the
-sealed waters ahead.
-
-Were "they" out? To this day, I do not know. The ways of the fleet
-are mysterious. Certainly, none came forth to accept our gage of
-battle. A time passed, and we were in port again. We saw the
-vessels we had left behind, the supply ships, tugs, oil tenders,
-colliers ... all the servants of the fleet.
-
-Down in the wardroom, the tension relaxed. The anchor chain rattled
-out; once more the universe seemed to part asunder. The mail had
-arrived, joyous event. Somebody put a roll of music into a rather
-passé player piano, and let loose an avalanche of horribly orderly
-chords.
-
-And all the time the Olympians were preparing, not the battle of the
-ages, but the Great Surrender!
-
-
-
-
-XXIV
-
-"SKY PILOTS"
-
-We know him as chaplain, the gobs use the good old term "Sky Pilot,"
-and the British call him "Padre." His task, no light one, is to look
-after the spiritual and moral welfare of some thousand sailor souls.
-He is general counsellor, friend in need, mender of broken hearts,
-counsel for the defence, censor, and show manager. Now he comes to
-the defence of seaman, first class, Billy Jones, whose frail bark of
-life has come to grief on the treacherous reef of the installment
-plan, and for whose misdemeanours a clamouring merchant is on deck
-threatening to "attach the ship." Now he is assuring the clergyman
-of the church on the hill that 2nd class petty officer Edgar K. Lee
-(who is going to marry pretty little Norah Desmond) is not, as far as
-he knows, committing bigamy. They tell of a chaplain of the
-destroyer force who, pestered beyond bearing by these demands that
-the American bridegroom be declared officially and stainlessly
-single, floored his tormentor by replying: "I've told you that as far
-as we know the man's unmarried. We can't give you any assurance more
-official. He may be bigamous, trigamous, quadrugamous, or," here he
-paused for effect, "pentagamous, but I advise you to risk it." The
-land sky pilot is said to have collapsed.
-
-Aboard the flagship of the Grand Fleet, the chaplain of the vessel
-was my guide, counsellor, and friend. In the words of one of the
-sailors, "Our chaplain is a real feller." And indeed it would have
-been hard to find a better man for the task than this padre of ours
-with his young man's idealism, friendliness, and energy. In addition
-to his welfare work, he had his duties as a de-coder, and his spare
-time he spent tutoring several of the enlisted personnel who were
-about to take examinations for higher ratings. It is a great
-mistake, by the way, to imagine that a violent gulf lies between the
-commissioned officer and the enlisted man. One finds the higher
-officer only too glad to help the sailor advance, and many times have
-they said to me, "Don't write about us, write about the sailors; get
-to know them; get their story." On this particular ship many of the
-younger officers were, like the chaplain, giving up their spare time
-to help the ambitious men along. Correspondence school courses are
-great favourites in the Navy, and have undoubtedly helped many a
-sailor on to a responsible rating.
-
-Our flagship chaplain used to make several rounds of the ship every
-day, "tours of welfare inspection," he used to call them humorously.
-Everywhere would he go, from wardroom to torpedo station, not
-neglecting an occasional visit to the boiler room. Friendly grins
-used to salute him on his passage; as the sailor said he was a "real
-feller." I often accompanied him on his rounds. When the tour was
-over, we would go to the chaplain's room for a quiet smoke and a good
-talk. The chaplain's room was always clean and quiet, and on the
-bookshelf, instead of weighty books on thermodynamics and navigation,
-were the pleasant kind of books one found in friendly houses over
-home.
-
-"Do you know," said the chaplain to me one day, "you have landed here
-at an interesting time. There's very little shore leave being given
-because it can't be given, and as a result the life of the ship is
-thrown back upon itself for all its amusements and social activities.
-What do you think of the morale here?"
-
-"I think it's very high," I answered. "The men seem very contented
-and keen. I've talked with a great many of them. How do you keep
-the morale up?"
-
-"Well, this ship has always been famous as a 'happy ship'" (here I
-ventured to say that any other condition would be impossible under
-the captain we had) "and when men get into the habit of working
-together good-naturedly, that habit is liable to stick. And I find
-the men sustained by the thought of active service. You may think it
-calm here, having just arrived from a destroyer base, but think of
-what it is over on the American coast."
-
-"Calm?" said I. "Don't put that down to me. The very idea of being
-with the Grand Fleet is thrilling. It's the experience of a
-lifetime. And let me tell you right from personal experience that no
-sight of the land war can match the impressiveness and grandeur of
-the first view of the fleet."
-
-"I feel just as you do. The whole thing is a constant wonder. And
-some day the Germans may come out. Moreover, summer is now at hand,
-and we shall have a chance to use the deck more for sports. This
-long, raw, rainy winter doesn't permit much outdoor exercise. As
-soon as it gets warm, however, we shall have boxing matches on the
-deck between various members of the crew and the champions of the
-different ships. We have some good wrestlers, too. At present we
-are reduced to vaudeville competitions between our various vessels,
-and movies. I'm doing my best to get better movies. So we shan't
-fare badly after all."
-
-"When do you hold Sunday services?"
-
-"I have a service in the morning and another in the evening. Yes, I
-muster a pretty big congregation. But I'm afraid I've got to be
-going now, got to ram a little algebra into the head of one of the
-boys. See you at dinner." And our sky pilot was gone. May good
-luck go with him, and good friends be ever at hand to return him the
-friendliness he grants.
-
-They tell a story of a favourite chaplain who retired from the Navy
-to take charge of a parish on land.
-
-"Good-bye, sir," said one of the old salts to him, as he was leaving
-the ship. "Good-bye, sir. We'll all look to see you come back with
-a _bishop's rating_."
-
-
-
-
-XXV
-
-IN THE WIRELESS ROOM
-
-I haven't the slightest idea where the wireless room is or how to
-find it. All that I remember is that some kind soul took me by the
-hand, led me through various passages and down several ladders, and
-landed me in a small compartment which I felt sure must have been
-hollowed out of the keel. The wireless room of a great ship is, by
-the way, a kind of holy of holies, and my visit to it more than an
-ordinary privilege.
-
-There are as many messages in the air these times as there were wasps
-in the orchard in boyhood days after one had thrown a large,
-carefully-selected stone into the big nest. Messages in all keys and
-tunes, messages in all the known languages, messages in the most
-baffling of codes. Now the operator picks up a merchantman asking
-for advice in English, this against all rules and regulations; a
-request once answered by a profane somebody with "Use the code, you
-damned fool." At intervals the Eiffel Tower signals the time;
-listening to it, one seems to hear the clear, monotonous tick-tock of
-a giant pendulum. Now it is a British land station talking to a
-British squadron on watch in the North Sea, now the destroyers are at
-it, now one hears the great station at Wilhelmshaven sending out
-instructions to the submarine fleet in ambush off these isles.
-
-How strange it is to come here at midnight and hear the Germans
-talking! Germany has been so successfully cut off from contact with
-the civilization she assaulted that these communications have the air
-of being messages from Mars. There are times when the radio operator
-picks up frantic cries sent by one U-boat to another; I have before
-me as I write a record of such a call. It began at 2.14 A.M.,
-shortly after a certain submarine was depth-bombed by an American
-destroyer. First to be received was _OLN's_ clear, insistent call
-for _RXK_ and _ZZN_, probably the two nearest members of the U-boat
-fleet. Were they cries for help? Probably. Again and again the
-spark uttered its despairing message. For some time there was no
-answer. The other two boats may have been submerged; quite possibly
-sunk. Then at 2.40 from far, far away came _ADL_ calling _OLN_. At
-2.45 _OLN_ answered very faintly. A minute or two later, _ADL_ tried
-and tried again to get either _RXK_ and _ZZN_. But there was no
-answer. Was she trying to send them to the help of the stricken
-vessel? At 2.57 _ADL_ tries for the hard pressed _OLN_, but no
-answer comes to her across the darkness of the sea.
-
-Night and day, a force of operators sit here taking down the
-messages, sending important ones directly to the chief officers, and
-letting unimportant ones accumulate in batches of four and five. The
-messages are written or typewritten on a form in shape and make-up
-not unlike that of an ordinary telegram blank. All day and all night
-long, the messengers hurry through the corridors of the great ship
-with bundles of these naval signals. And since everything intended
-for the Navy comes in code, decoders too must be at hand at all hours
-to unravel the messages. It is no easy task, for the codes are
-changed for safety's sake every little while. On board the great
-ship I visited, the chaplain did a big share of this work. I can see
-him now bent over his table in the wireless room, spelling out
-sentences far more complicated than the Latin and Greek of his
-university days.
-
-There is one wireless service which will not be remembered with
-affection by our sailors over there, the Government Wireless Press
-Service. I was in the Grand Fleet when that dashing business of the
-first Zeebrugge raid occurred. The "Press News" on the following
-morning mentioned it, and warned us impressively to keep our
-knowledge to ourselves. As a result we spoke of it at breakfast time
-with bated breath. I myself, a modest person, was stricken with a
-sudden access of importance at possessing a Grand Fleet secret.
-
-Then at ten o'clock the morning papers came down from a certain great
-city with a full, detailed account of the raid!
-
-The thing that we have most against it, however, is its conduct
-during the great offensive of the spring of 1918. The air was
-resounding with the wireless pæans of the on-rushing Germans; and
-everybody was worried, and anxious to know the fortunes of our
-troops. One rushed to breakfast early to have first chance at the
-press news. Friends gathered behind one's shoulder, and tried to
-read before sitting down. What's the news? What's the news? This
-(or something very like it) was the news:
-
-"Dr. Ostropantski, president of the Græco-Lettish Diet, denounced
-yesterday at a meeting of the Novoe Vremya the German assault on the
-liberties of Beluchistan."
-
-There was one vast, concerted groan from the sons of the Grand Fleet.
-Some wondered what the anxious folk far out at sea on the destroyers
-were saying. Finally the wit of the table shook his head gravely.
-
-"Boys," said he, "where _would_ we be if the civilians refused to
-tell?"
-
-
-
-
-XXVI
-
-MARINES
-
-This paper does not deal with the marines fighting in France, but
-with the marines such as one finds them on the greater ships. The
-gallant "devil dogs" now adding fresh laurels to the corps have army
-correspondents to tell of them, for though they are trained by the
-Navy and are the Navy's men, the Army has them now under its command.
-It is rather of the genuine marine, the true "soldier of the sea"
-that I would speak. Having been myself something of a soldier and a
-sailor, the marines were good enough to receive me in a friendly
-fashion when I was a guest on one of the battleships now on foreign
-service.
-
-Even as the traditional nickname for the sailor is "gob," so is
-"leatherneck" the seaman's traditional word for the marine. I am
-guileless enough not to know just how marines take this term, but if
-there is any doubt, I advise readers to be easy with it, for marines
-will fight at the drop of a hat. All those aboard declared, by the
-way, that the antipathy between the sailor and the marine in which
-the public believes, does not exist, nor do the marines according to
-the popular notion "police the ship." The marine has his place; the
-sailor has his, and they do not mix, not because they dislike each
-other, but simply because the marine and the sailor are the products
-of two widely different systems of training. Moreover, the marine is
-bound to his own people by an _esprit de corps_ without equal in the
-world. It was very fine to see each man's anxiety that the corps
-should not merely have a good name, but the best of names.
-
-We swopped yarns. In return for my gory tales of shelled cities, gas
-attacks, and air raids, they gave me gorgeous ... gorgeous tales of
-the little wars they have fought in the Caribbean. I realized for
-the first time just what it meant to Uncle Sam to be Central
-America's policeman. Now, as they spun their yarns, I could see the
-low, white buildings of a Consulate against the luminous West Indian
-sky, the boats on the beach, the marines on patrol; now the sugar
-plantation menaced by some political robber-rebel, the little tents
-under the trees, the business-like machine gun. A harassed American
-planter is often the _deux ex machina_ of these tales.
-
-We used to talk in a little office aboard the battleships down by the
-marines' quarters, which lie aft. I believe it was the sergeant's
-sanctum sanctorum. There were marine posters on the wall, a neat
-little stack of the marines' magazines handy by, a few books, and
-some filing cabinets. Just outside were the marine lockers, each one
-in the most perfect order, and a gun breech used for loading drills.
-The sergeant, himself, was a fine, keen fellow who had been in the
-corps for some time. His men declared themselves, for the most part,
-city born and bred.
-
-"What happened then?"
-
-"Just as soon as they got the message, a detail was sent into the
-hills for the defence of the plantation. It was a big sugar
-plantation. The American manager was seeing red he was so peeved,
-the harvesting season had come and the help, scared by the
-insurgents, were beating it off into the hills. What's more, the
-insurgents had told the manager that if he didn't pony up with five
-thousand dollars by a certain date, they'd burn the place. Actually
-had the nerve..."
-
-"In fiction," said I, "a lean, dark, villainous fellow mounted on a
-magnificent horse which he has looted from some fine stable dashes up
-to the plantation door, delivers his threat in an icy tone and
-gallops back into the bush. Or else a message wrapped round a stone
-crashes through the window onto the family breakfast table. Which
-was it?"
-
-I think the marine telling the story wanted very much to utter: "How
-do you get that way?" however, he merely grinned and answered:
-
-"Neither. A big, fat greaser in a dirty, Palm Beach suit came
-ambling up one morning as if somebody had asked him to chow. This
-was his game. A holdup? Oh, no! Only his men were getting a bit
-restless under the neck, about five thousand dollars restless, and if
-they didn't get it, there's no telling what they wouldn't do. He
-thought he could restrain them till Tuesday night, of course it would
-be a pretty stiff job to hold them in, but if something crisp and
-green hadn't shown up by Tuesday P.M., those devils might actually
-burn the plantation. Did you ever hear such a line of bull? And
-that's the honest truth of it, too; none of this stone in the mashed
-potatoes guff."
-
-"And then," I broke in, "the faithful servant gallops through the
-valley to the shore; a stray bullet knocks off his hat, but he gets
-there, and delivers his message to the warship in the bay. A bugle
-blows, the marines rally, launches take them to the beach; they rush
-over the hills, and get to the plantation just as Devil's-hoof Gomez
-or Pink-eyed Pedro has set fire to a corner of the bungalow. Rifles
-crack, bugles sound a charge, the marines rush the Gomez gang who
-take to their heels. Brave hearts put out the fire. Isn't there
-always an exquisitely beautiful señorita to be rescued? There always
-is in the movies. Now, please don't destroy any more of my
-illusions."
-
-"The message comes all right, all right, but I doubt very much if
-that faithful servant comes in a hurry. Down there, if a man goes by
-in a hurry, everybody in the village will be out to look at him....
-The major gets the message, works out his plan of campaign, and away
-we go. Arrived at the plantation, we pitch camp, establish pickets,
-and generally get things ready to give the restless greasers a hot
-time. Sometimes the greasers try their luck at sniping; other times,
-they go away quietly and don't give you a bit of trouble. There
-aren't any beautiful señoritas, ... no broken hearts. Yes, it's
-tough luck."
-
-Thus were my illusions dispelled by a group of Uncle Sam's marines.
-They forgot to tell me that many members of their little company had
-been wounded, and seriously wounded in these West Indian shindies.
-The list of wounds and honours in the records was an impressive roll.
-
-The visitor aboard a warship will see marines acting as orderlies and
-corporals of the guard and manning the secondary batteries. I
-attended many of their drills, and never shall forget the snap and
-"pep," of the evolutions. Nor shall I forget the courtesies and
-friendly help of the gallant officer under whose command these
-soldiers of the sea have the good luck to be stationed.
-
-N.B. (Very secret), to Huns only. The marines man the gun in the
-"Exec's" office and the corresponding one in the line officers'
-reading room. If you want to get home to the old home canal, ...
-keep away from their range.
-
-
-
-
-XXVII
-
-SHIPS OF THE AIR
-
-After I had been to visit several of the bases, I returned to London,
-and called at the Navy headquarters. A young officer of the
-admiral's staff who was always ready and willing to help the writers
-assigned to the Navy in every possible way, came down to talk with
-me. "Had I been to Base X? To Base Y? Had I been to see the
-American submarines? The Naval Aviation?" I grasped at the last
-phrase.
-
-"Tell me about it," I said. "I had no idea that the sea flyers were
-over here. Last fall the streets of Boston were so thick with boys
-of that service that you could hardly move round. And now they are
-on this side. Where can I find them?"
-
-The officer drew me to a large scale map of the British Isles and the
-French coast which hung on the wall, plentifully jabbed with little
-flags. His finger fairly flew from one dot to another.
-
-"Well," said he, "we have a station here, another station here,
-another station there, ... there's a station on this point of land;
-right about here we're putting up buildings for a depot but there is
-nobody at hand yet, here's a big station...." I believe that he
-could have continued for five minutes.
-
-"You seem to have a big affair well in hand," I suggested, rather
-surprised.
-
-"No," he corrected, "just beginning. The department scheme for the
-naval aviation service is one of the big things of the war. It's so
-big, so comprehensive that people over there haven't woken up to it
-yet. Aren't you going to Base L next week? Why don't you go down
-the coast a few miles and see the outfit at Z? Only don't forget
-that we've 'just begun to fight.' Come upstairs and let me give you
-a letter." A few days later I ran down to see the aviators in their
-eyrie.
-
-The naval station lay in a sheltered cove hidden away in a green and
-ragged coast. Landing at a somewhat tumble-down old pier, I saw
-ahead of me a gentle slope descending to a broad beach of shingle.
-Mid-way along this beach, ending under the water, was to be seen a
-wide concrete runway which I judged to be but newly finished, for
-empty barrels of cement and gravel separators stood nearby. At the
-top of the slope, in a great field behind mossy trees, lay the
-corrugated iron dormitories of a vast, deserted camp once the repose
-quarters of a famous fighting regiment. There was something of the
-atmosphere of an abandoned picnic ground to the place. Sailor
-sentries stood at the entrance of the quiet roads leading to the
-empty barracks, and directed me to those in authority.
-
-The naval aviation is a new service. For a long time the uniform of
-the cadets was so unfamiliar that even in their own America the boys
-used to be taken for foreign officers. It was a case of "I say he's
-an Italian. No, dear, I'm _sure_ he's a Belgian." A not unnatural
-mistake, for the uniform has a certain foreign jauntiness. In
-colour, it is almost an olive green, and consists of a short,
-high-collared tunic cut snugly to the figure, shaped breeches of the
-riding pattern, and putties to match. Add the ensign's solitary
-stripe and star on shoulder and sleeve and you have it.
-
-I found a group of the flyers in one of the tin barracks that did
-duty as a kind of recreation centre. The spokesman of the party was
-a serious lad from Boston.
-
-"Fire away," they yelled good-naturedly to my announcement that I was
-going to bomb with questions.
-
-"First of all, about how many of you are there helping to make it
-home-like for Fritz in this amiable spot?"
-
-"About fifty of us."
-
-"Been here long?"
-
-"No, just came. You see the station is not really finished yet, but
-they are hurrying it along to beat the cars. Did you spot that
-concrete runway as you came up? A daisy, isn't it? Slope just
-right, and no skimping on the width. Well, that's only one of the
-runways we're going to have. Over on the other side, the plans call
-for three or four more."
-
-"And what do these sailors do?" I had noticed a large number of
-sailors about.
-
-"They look after our machines and the balloons. You see this is a
-regular aviation section just the same as the army has, and the
-sailors are trained mechanics, repair men, clerks and so forth.
-They're rather taking it easy now because the planes have been
-somewhat slow in reaching us. You know as well as I do the rumpus
-that's been made in the States over the air program. Things are
-breezing up mighty fast now, however, and every supply ship that puts
-into the harbour brings some of our equipment. The Navy's ready, the
-camps are being organized, the men are trained; it's up to the
-manufacturers to hustle along our machines. Please try to make them
-realize that when you write."
-
-"But, say," put in another, "don't, for the love of Pete, run away
-with the idea that we haven't any equipment. We've got some planes
-and some balloons. But we want more, more, more. Anything to keep
-the Germans on the go."
-
-"What do you use?" I asked. "Mostly balloons," put in a third
-speaker, a quiet young Westerner who had thus far not joined in the
-conversation. "Most of us are balloon observers, though Jos here,"
-he indicated the Bostonian, "is a sea-plane artist. He runs one of
-the planes."
-
-"Come," said I, "tell the thrilling story."
-
-"There isn't any story," groaned Jos, "that's just the trouble. I've
-been fooling round these coasts and out by the harbour mouth in the
-hope of spotting a sub till I feel as if I'd used up all the gasoline
-in the British Isles. Those destroyers have spilled the beans.
-Fritz doesn't dare to come round. Ever try fishing in a place from
-which the fish have been thoroughly scared away? It's like that.
-Mine laying submarines used to be round the mouth of the harbour all
-the time, now Fritz is never seen or heard from.... The destroyers
-have spilled the beans. The balloon hounds are the whole show here.
-Tell him about it, Mac. You've taken more trips than any of the
-others." The disgruntled sea planer knocked a bull-dog pipe on his
-shoe, and was still.
-
-"I can't tell much," drawled Mac, a wiry, black little Southerner
-with a wonderful accent. "They fill the balloon up here, take it out
-to a destroyer or some patrol boat and tie it on, jes like a can to
-purp's tail. Then you go out in the Irish Sea and watch for subs.
-If you observe anything that looks like a Hun, you simply telephone
-it down to the destroyer's deck, and she rushes ahead and
-investigates. Sometimes the observer in the balloon sees something
-which can't be seen from the level of the destroyer's bridge, and in
-that case the balloonist practically steers the vessel, ... so many
-points to port, so many to starboard, and so on till you land them in
-the suspected area."
-
-"What's it like up above there in a balloon? From the deck of a
-battleship or a destroyer, it seems to be a calm matter."
-
-"Don't be too sure of that. I know it looks calm, calm as a regular
-up-in-the-air old feather baid. And it isn't bad if you have a
-decent wind with which the course and speed of the ship are in some
-sort of an agreement. But if the ship's course lies in one direction
-and the wind is blowing from another, the balloon blows all over the
-place. When the wind blows from behind, you float on ahead and try
-to pull the ship after you; if the wind is from ahead, you are
-dragged along at the end of a chain like a mean dawg. There is
-always sure to be a party if the ship zigzags. Now you are pulling
-towards the bow, now you are floating serenely to port, now you are
-tugging behind, now you are nowhere in particular and apparently
-standing on yo' haid."
-
-We went to walk in the grounds. I was shown where the balloon shed
-was to be, the generators, and a dozen other houses. Evidently the
-station was going to be "some outfit." Already a big gang of
-civilian labourers, electrified by American energy, were hard at work
-laying the foundations of a large structure.
-
-"Yes," said one of the boys, "this is going to be a great place.
-When it's completed we shall have regular sea-plane patrols of this
-entire coast, and a balloon squadron ready to coöperate with either
-the British or the American destroyer fleets. Our boys along the
-French coast have already made it hot for some Huns, and believe me,
-if there are any subs left, you just bet we want a chance at 'em?"
-
-Such is the spirit that has driven the Germans from the seas.
-
-
-
-
-XXVIII
-
-THE SAILOR IN LONDON
-
-The convalescent English Tommy in his sky-blue flannel suit, white
-shirt, and orange four-in-hand, the heavier, tropic-bred Australian
-with his hat brim knocked jauntily up to one side, the dark,
-grey-eyed Scotch highlander very braw and bony in his plaited kilt,
-these be picturesque figures on the streets of London, but the most
-picturesque of all is our own American tar. Our "gobs" are always so
-spruce and clean, and so young, young with their own youth and the
-youth of the nation. Jack ashore is to be found at the Abbey at
-almost any hour of the day, he wanders into the National Gallery, and
-stands before Nelson at St. Paul's; he causes fair hearts to break
-asunder at Hampton Court. Wherever you go in London, the wonderful
-wide trousers, and the good old pancake hat, this last worn cockily
-over one eye, are always to be seen in what nautical writers of the
-Victorian school call "the offing."
-
-Our boys come in liberty parties of thirty and forty from the various
-bases, usually under the wing of a chief petty officer very conscious
-of his responsibility for these wild sailor souls. Accommodations
-are taken either at a good London hotel with which the authorities
-have some arrangement, or the personnel is distributed among various
-huts and hospitable dwellings. The great rallying centre is sure to
-be the Eagle Hut off the Strand.
-
-This famous hut, which every soldier or sailor who visits London will
-long remember, is situated, by a happy coincidence, in modern
-London's most New Yorkish area. It stands, a huddle of low,
-inconspicuous buildings, in just such a raw open space between three
-streets as on this side prefigures the building of a new skyscraper;
-the great, modern mass of Australia House lifts its imposing Beaux
-Arts façade a little distance above it, whilst the front of a
-fashionable hotel rises against the sky just beyond. The ragged
-island, the sense of open space, the fine high buildings, ... "say,
-wouldn't you think you were back in America again?" Yet only a few
-hundred feet down the Strand, old St. Clement Danes lies like a ship
-of stone anchored in the thoroughfare, and Samuel Johnson, LL.D.,
-stands bareheaded in the sun wondering what has happened to the
-world. The hut within is simply an agglomeration of big, clean,
-rectangular spaces, reading rooms, living rooms, dormitories, and
-baths always full of husky, pink figures, steam and the smell of
-soap. Physically, Eagle hut is merely the larger counterpart of some
-thousand others. The wonder of the place is its atmosphere. The
-narrow threshold might be three thousand miles in width, for cross
-it, and you will find yourself in America. All the dear, distinctive
-national things for which your soul and body have hungered and
-thirsted are gathered here. There is actually an American shoe
-shining stand, an American barber chair, and, Heaven be praised,
-"good American grub." It is a sight to see the long counter thronged
-with the eager, hungry bluejackets, to hear the buzz of lively
-conversation carried on in the pervading aroma of fried eggs,
-favourite dish or sandwich of apparently every doughboy and tar.
-One's admiration grows for the Y. workers who keep at the weary grind
-of washing floors, picking up stray cigarette buts, and washing
-innumerable eggy plates. I realized to the full what a poor old
-college professor who "helped" in a hut on the French front meant
-when he had said to me, "life is just one damned egg after another."
-Of course sometimes the "hen fruit"--one hears all kinds of facetious
-aliases at the Hut--gives way to _soi disant_ buckwheat cakes, a
-dainty, lately honoured by royal attention. Should you stroll about
-the buildings, you will see sailors and soldiers reading in good,
-comfortable chairs; some playing various games, others sitting in
-quiet corners writing letters home. There is inevitably a crowd
-round the information bureau. Alas, for the poor human encyclopedia,
-he lives a bewildering life. On the morning that I called he had
-been asked to supply the address of a goat farm by a quartermaster
-charged with the buying of a mascot, and he was just recovering from
-this when a sailor from the Grand Fleet demanded a complete and
-careful résumé of the British marriage regulations! Everybody seems
-cheerful and contented; the officials are attentive and kind; the
-guests good-natured and well-behaved.
-
-Such is the combination of club, restaurant, and hotel to which our
-Jack resorts. And there he lives content in his islet of America,
-while London roars about him. During the week, he wanders, as he
-says himself, "all over the place."
-
-The good time ends with the Saturday ball game. Everybody goes.
-Posters announce it through London in large black type on yellow
-paper. "U.S. Army _vs._ U.S. Navy." The field is most American
-looking; the "bleachers" might be those in any great American town.
-The great game, the game to remember, was played in the presence of
-the king. The day was a good one, though now and then obscured with
-clouds; a strangely mixed audience was at hand, wounded Tommies,
-American soldiers speaking in all the tongues of all the forty-eight
-states, a number of American civilians from the embassy and the
-London colony, groups of dignified staff officers from the army and
-the navy headquarters, and even a decorous group of Britons dressed
-in the formal garments which are de rigueur in England at any
-high-class sporting event. Then in came the king walking ahead of
-his retinue, ... a man of medium height with a most kind and
-chivalrous face. Our admiral walked beside him. The band played,
-eager eyes looked down, the king, looking up, smiled, and won the
-good-will of every friendly young heart. A few minutes later, the
-noise broke forth again, "Oh you Army!" "Oh you Navy," a hullaballoo
-that culminated in a roar, "Play Ball!"
-
-The Navy men, wearing uniforms of blue with red stripes, walked out
-first, closely followed by the army in uniforms of grey-green. The
-admiral, towering straight and tall above his entourage, threw the
-ball. A pandemonium of yells broke forth. "Now's the time, give it
-to 'em, boys, soak it to 'em, soak it to 'em, steady Army, give him a
-can, run Smithie!" In a corner by themselves, a group of bluejackets
-made a fearful noise with some kind of whirligig rattles. Songs rose
-in spots from the audience, collided with other songs, and melted
-away in indistinguishable tunes. British Tommies looked on
-phlegmatically, enjoying it all just the same. There were stray,
-mocking cat calls. It was a real effort to bring one's self back to
-London, old London of decorous cricket, tea, and white flannels.
-
-And of course, the Navy won. Over the heads of the vanishing crowd
-floated,
-
- Give 'em the axe, the axe, the axe,
- Where? Where? Where?
- Right in the neck, the neck, the neck,
- There! There! There!
- Who gets the axe?
- ARMY
- Who says so!
- NAVY
-
-
-It ends with a roar.
-
-Then there is a celebration, and the next morning, his holiday over,
-Jack is rounded up, and put into a railway carriage. The roofs of
-London die away, and Jack, dozing over his magazines, sees in a dream
-the great grey shapes of the battleships that wait for him in the
-endless northern rain.
-
-
-
-
-XXIX
-
-THE ARMED GUARD
-
-When the Germans began to sink our unarmed merchant vessels, and
-announced that they intended to continue that course of action, it
-was immediately seen that the only possible military answer to this
-infamous policy lay in arming every ship. There were obstacles,
-however, to this defensive programme. We were at the time engaged in
-what was essentially a legal controversy with the Germans, a
-controversy in which the case of America and civilization was stated
-with a clarity, a sincerity, and a spirit of idealism which perhaps
-only the future can justly appreciate. We could not afford to weaken
-our case by involving in doubt the legal status of the merchantman.
-The enemy, driven brilliantly point by point from the pseudo-legal
-defences of an outrageous campaign, had taken refuge in quibbling,
-"the ship was armed," "a gun was seen," "such vessels must be
-considered as war vessels." We all know the sorry story. For a
-while, our hands were tied. Then came our declaration of war which
-left our Navy free to take protective measures. The merchantmen were
-fitted with guns, and given crews of Navy gunners. This service,
-devoted to the protection of the merchant ship, was known as the
-Armed Guard.
-
-It was not long before tanker and tramp, big merchantman and grimy
-collier sailed from our ports fully equipped. Vessels whose
-helplessness before the submarine had been extreme, the helplessness
-of a wretched sparrow gripped in the talons of a hawk, became
-fighting units which the submarine encountered at her peril.
-Moreover, finding it no longer easy to sink ships with gunfire, the
-submarines were forced to make greater use of their torpedoes, and
-this in turn compelled them to attempt at frequent intervals the
-highly dangerous voyage to the German bases on the Belgian coast.
-Sometimes the gun crews were British; sometimes American. The
-coöperation between the two Navies was at once friendly and
-scientific.
-
-The guns with which the vessels were equipped were of the best, and
-the gun crews were recruited from the trained personnel of the fleet.
-One occasionally hears, aboard the greater vessels, lamentations for
-gunners who have been sent on to the Guard. These crews consisted of
-some half-dozen men usually under the command of a chief petty
-officer. A splendid record, theirs. They have been in action time
-and time again against the Germans, and have destroyed submarines.
-There is many a fine tale in the records of crews who kept up the
-battle till the tilt of their sinking vessel made the firing of the
-gun an impossibility. So far, the gunners on the merchant ships have
-come in for the lion's share of attention. But there is another and
-important side of the Armed Guard service which has not yet, I
-believe, been called to the public notice. I mean the work of the
-signal men of the Guard.
-
-[Illustration: An American gun crew in heavy weather (winter) outfit]
-
-The arming of the merchant ships was the first defensive measure to
-be adopted; the second, the gathering of merchantmen into escorted
-groups known as convoys. Now a convoy has before it several definite
-problems. If it was to make the most of its chances of getting
-through the German ambush, it must act as a well coördinated naval
-unit, obeying orders, answering signals, and performing designated
-evolutions in the manner of a battleship squadron. For instance,
-convoys follow certain zigzag plans, prepared in advance by naval
-experts. Frequently these schemes are changed at sea. Now if all
-the vessels change from plan X to plan Y simultaneously, all will go
-well, but if some delay, there is certain to be a most dangerous
-confusion, perhaps a collision. It is no easy task to keep twenty or
-so boats zigzagging in convoy formation, and travelling in a general
-direction eastward at the same time. Merchant captains have had to
-accustom themselves to these strict orders, no easy task for some
-old-fashioned masters; merchant crews have had to be educated to the
-discipline and method of naval crews. Moreover, there have been
-occasional foreign vessels to deal with, and the problem presented by
-a foreign personnel. In order, therefore, to assure that
-communication between the guide ship of the convoy and its attendant
-vessels which is, in the true sense of an abused word, vital to the
-success of the expedition, the Navy placed one of its keenest
-signalmen on the vessels which required one. He was there to give
-and to send signals, by flag, by international flag code, by
-"blinker" and by semaphore. The wireless was used as little as
-possible between the various vessels of the merchant fleet, indeed,
-practically not at all.
-
-The system of signalling by holding two flags at various angles is
-fairly familiar since a number of organizations began to teach it,
-and the semaphore system is the same system carried into action by
-two mechanical arms. The method called "Blinker" has a Morse
-alphabet, and is sent by exposing and shutting off a light, the
-shorter exposures being the dots, the longer exposures, the dashes.
-Sometimes "blinker" is sent by the ship's search light, a number of
-horizontal shutters attached to one perpendicular rod serving to open
-and close the light aperture. One used to see the same scheme on the
-lower halves of old-fashioned window blinds. The international flag
-code is perhaps the hardest signal system to remember. It requires
-not only what a naval friend calls a good "brute" memory, but also a
-good visual memory. Many have seen the flags, gay pieces of various
-striped, patched, chequered, and dotted bunting reminiscent of a
-Tokio street fair. The signalman must learn the flag alphabet,
-committing to memory the colours and their geometric arrangement; he
-must also learn the special signification of each particular letter.
-For instance, one letter of the alphabet stands for "I wish to
-communicate"; there are also numbers to remember, phrases, and
-sentences. If a signalman cares to specialize, he can study certain
-minor systems, for instance the one in which a dot and a dash are
-symbolized by different coloured lights. A signalman must have a
-good eye, a quick brain, and a good memory. It is a feat in itself
-to remember what one has already received while continuing to receive
-a long, perhaps complicated message. Because of these intellectual
-requirements, you will find among the signalmen some of the cleverest
-lads in the Navy. "Giles" such a lad, "Idaho," another, and "Pop"
-was always "on the job."
-
-The Guard has its barracks in a great American port. One saw there
-the men being sorted out, equipped for their special service, and
-assigned to their posts. A fine lot of real seafaring youngsters,
-tanned almost black. The Navy looked after them in a splendid
-fashion. Said one of the boys to me, "If I had only known what a
-wonderful place the Navy was, I'd been in it long ago." The boys
-were sent over in the merchant ships, were cleanly lodged in
-excellent hotels once they got to land, and were then sent back on
-various liners. The Armed Guard was a real seafaring service, and
-its men one and all were touched by the romance and mystery of the
-sea. They fell in with strange old tramps hurried from the East,
-they broke bread with strange crews, they beheld the sea in the
-sullen wrath it cherishes beneath the winter skies. One and all they
-have stood by their guns, one and all stood by their tasks, good,
-sturdy, American lads, gentlemen unafraid.
-
-
-
-
-XXX
-
-GOING ABOARD
-
-Giles, who had just been sent to the Armed Guard from the fleet, was
-waiting for orders in a room at the naval barracks. It was early in
-the spring, the sun shone renewed and clear; a hurdy gurdy sounded
-far, far away. The big room was clean, clean with that hard, orderly
-tidiness which marks the habitations of men under military rule. A
-number of sailors, likewise waiting for their orders, stood about.
-There was a genuine sea-going quality in the tanned, eager young
-faces. The conversation dealt with their journeys, with the ships,
-with the men, the life aboard, the furloughs in London. "Bunch of
-Danes ... good eats ... chucked Bill right out of his bunk ...
-regular peach ... saw Jeff at the Eagle Hut..."
-
-Presently a bosun entered. A man somewhere in the thirties, brisk
-and athletic. One could see him counting the assembled sailors as he
-came, the numbers forming on his soundless lips. The talk died away.
-
-"How many men here?" said the bosun abruptly.
-
-Several of the sailors began counting. There was much turning round,
-a deal of whispered estimations. Every one appeared to be looking at
-everybody else. Finally a deep voice from a corner said:
-
-"Thirty-five."
-
-"Any one down for leave?"
-
-Some half dozen members of a gun crew just home from a long journey,
-called out that leave had been given them.
-
-"Anybody on sick list?"
-
-There was no answer. In the ensuing silence, the bosun checked off
-the answers on his list.
-
-"I suppose you all want to go out."
-
-"Sure!"
-
-"Get in line." The bosun backed away, and looked with an official
-eye at the sturdy group.
-
-"All here, pack up and stand by. At eleven o'clock have all your
-baggage at the drill office. I'll send a man up to get the mail."
-
-The line broke up, keen for the coming adventure. Giles, the
-signalman, walked at a brisk pace to his quarters... You would have
-seen a lad of about twenty-two years of age, between medium height
-and tall, and unusually well built. Some years of wrestling--he had
-won distinction in this sport at school--had given him a tremendously
-powerful neck and chest, but with all the strength there was no
-suggestion of beefiness. The friendliest of brown eyes shone in the
-clean-cut, handsome head, he had a delightful smile, always a sign of
-good breeding. In habit he was industrious and persevering, in
-manner of life clean and true beyond reproach. Giles is an American
-sailor lad, a _real gob_, and I have described him at some length
-because of this same reality. The sooner we get to know our sailors
-the better.
-
-Back in his quarters, he busied himself with packing his bag. Now
-packing one of those cylindrical bags is an art in itself. First of
-all, each garment must be folded or rolled in a certain way, the
-sleeve in this manner, the collar in that (it is all patiently taught
-at training stations) then the articles themselves must be placed
-within the bag in an orderly arrangement, and last of all, toilet
-articles and such gear must be stowed within convenient reach. A
-clean smell of freshly washed clothes and good, yellow, kitchen soap
-rose from the tidy bundles. In went an extra suit--"those trousers
-are real broadcloth, don't get 'em nowadays, none of that bum serge
-they're trying to wish on you," a packet of underwear tied and
-knotted with wonderful sailor knots, and last of all handkerchiefs,
-soap, and other minor impedimenta done up in blue and red bandanna
-handkerchiefs. You simply put the articles on the handkerchiefs and
-knot the four corners neatly over the top. There you have the
-sailor. Only at sea does one realize to what an extent the bandanna
-handkerchief is a boon to mankind. When the bag was packed, it was a
-triumph of industry and skill. Shouldering it, the sailor walked to
-the drill office. He was early. A good substantial luncheon had
-been prepared. There were plates of hearty sandwiches. Just before
-noon, a fleet of "buses" took them to the pier.
-
-The day was clear but none too warm, and great buffeting salvos of
-dust-laden wind blew across the befouled and busy waters of the port.
-A young, almost boyish ensign gave each man his final orders, and a
-kind of identification slip for their captains. The sailors of the
-Guard, wearing reefers and with round hats jammed tightly on their
-heads, stood backed against a wind that curled the wide ends of their
-blue trousers close about their ankles. Presently, grimy, hot, and
-pouring out coils of brownish, choking smoke, a big ocean-going tug
-glided over to the wharf and took them aboard. Then bells ran, the
-propeller churned, and the tug turned her corded nose down the bay.
-The convoy lay at anchor at the very mouth of the roads. A
-miscellaneous lot of vessels, mostly of British registration; some
-new, some very, very old. The pick of the group was a fine large
-vessel with an outlandish Maori name; Giles heard later that she had
-just been brought over from New Zealand. The inevitable grimy-decked
-tankers and ammoniacal mule boat completed the lot. An American
-cruiser lay at the very head of the line, men could be seen moving
-about on her, and there was much washing flapping in the wind. The
-tug went from vessel to vessel, landing a signalman here, a gun crew
-there. One by one the lads clambered aboard to shouts of "See you
-later," and "Soak 'em one for me." Giles was almost the last man
-left aboard the tug. Presently he darted off busily to a clean
-little tramp camouflaged in tones of pink, grey, and rusty black.
-The tug slid alongside caressingly. There were more bells; a noise
-of churning of water. Over the side of the greater vessel leaned a
-number of the crew, a casual curiosity in their eyes. Seafaring men
-in dingy jerseys opening at the throat and showing hairy chests. A
-putty-faced ship's boy watched the show a little to one side.
-Presently an officer of the ship, young, deep-chested and with a
-freshly-healed, puckering, star-shaped wound at the left hand corner
-of his mouth, came briskly down the deck and stood by the head of the
-ladder.
-
-Giles caught up his bag, clambered aboard, and reported. The officer
-brought him to the captain. Then when the formalities were over, the
-second mate took him in charge, and assigned the lad his quarters and
-his watches.
-
-The convoy set sail the next morning just as a pale, cold, and
-unutterably laggard dawn rose over a sea stretching, vast and empty,
-to the clearly marked line of a distant and leaden horizon. The
-escorting cruiser, flying a number of flags, was the first to get
-under way; and behind her followed the merchantmen in their allotted
-positions, each ship flying its position flag.
-
-Giles watched the departure from the bridge. Behind him the vast
-city rose silent above the harbour mist; ahead, rich in promise of
-adventure and romance, lay the great plain of the dark, the
-inhospitable, the unsullied, the heroic sea.
-
-
-
-
-XXXI
-
-GRAIN
-
-This is "Idaho's" story. He told it to me when I met him coming home
-early this summer. We were crossing in a worthy old transatlantic
-which has since gone to the bottom, and Idaho, at his ease in the
-deserted smoking room, unfolded the adventure. "Idaho, U.S.N.," we
-called him that aboard, is a very real personage. I think he told me
-that he was eighteen years old, medium height, solidly built,
-wholesome looking. The leading characteristic of the young, open
-countenance is intelligence, an intelligence that has grown of itself
-behind those clear grey eyes, not a power that has grown from
-premature contact with the world. Until he joined the Navy, I
-imagine that Idaho knew little of the world beyond his own
-magnificent West. I consider him very well educated; he declares
-that preferring life on his father's ranch to knowledge, he cut high
-school after the second year. He is a great reader, and likes good,
-stirring poetry. He is an idealist, and stands by his ideals with a
-fervour which only youth possesses. And I ought to add that Idaho,
-in the words of one of his friends, is "one first-class signalman."
-This is Idaho's story, pieced together from his own recital, and from
-a handful of his letters.
-
-The crowd aboard the naval tug was so festive that morning, and there
-was such a lot of scuffling, punching, imitation boxing and jollying
-generally that Idaho did not see the vessel to which he had been
-assigned till the tug was close alongside. Then, hearing his name
-called out, the lad caught up his baggage, and walked on into the
-open side of a vast, disreputable tramp. The lad later learned that
-she had been brought from somewhere in the China Sea. The
-_Sebastopol_, Heaven knows where she originally got the name, was a
-ship that had served her term in the west, had grown old and out of
-date, and then been purchased by some Oriental firm. Out there, she
-had carried on, always seaworthy in an old-fashioned way, always
-excessively dirty, always a day over due. When the submarine had
-made ships worth their weight in silver, the _Sebastopol_ must have
-been almost on the point of giving up the ghost. Presently, the war
-brought the old ship back to England again. Her return to an English
-harbour must have resembled the return of a disreputable relative to
-an anxious family. And in England, in some tremendously busy
-shipyard, they had patched her up, added a modern electrical
-equipment and even gone to the length of new boilers. But her
-engines they had merely tuned up, and as for her ancient hull, that
-they had dedicated to the mercy of the gods of the sea.
-
-Once aboard, and assigned to his station and watches, the lad had
-leisure to look over his companions. The _Sebastopol_ carried a crew
-from Liverpool, and was officered by three Englishmen and a little
-Welsh third mate. The Captain, a first mate of many years'
-experience, to whom the war had given the chance of a ship, was in
-the forties; tall and with a thin, stern mouth under a heavy brown
-moustache; the first mate was a mere youngster: the second, a
-middle-aged volunteer, the third, an undersized, excitable Celt with
-grey eyes and coal black hair touched with snow white above the ears.
-The Welshman took a liking for Idaho; used to question him in regard
-to the West, being especially keen to know about "opportunities there
-after the war." He had a brother in Wales whom he thought might
-share in a farming venture. Of the captain the lad saw very little;
-and the first mate was somewhat on his dignity. Practically every
-man of the crew had been torpedoed at least once, many had been
-injured, and had scars to exhibit. All had picturesque tales to
-tell, the gruesomest ones being the favourites. The best narrator
-was a fireman from London, a man of thirty with a lean chest and
-grotesquely strong arms; he would sit on the edge of a bunk or a
-chair and tell of sudden thundering crashes, of the roaring of steam,
-of bodies lying on the deck over which one tripped as one ran, of
-water pouring into engine rooms, and of boilers suddenly vomiting
-masses of white hot coal upon dazed and scalded stokers. It was the
-melodrama of below the water line. Then for days the narrator would
-keep silent, troubled by a pain in one of his fragmentary teeth. All
-the men kept their few belongings tied in a bundle, ready to seize
-the instant trouble was at hand. The cook complained to Idaho that
-he had lost a gold watch when the _Lady Esther_ was torpedoed off the
-coast of France, and advised him paternally to keep his things handy.
-One of the oilers, a good-natured fellow of twenty-eight or nine, had
-been a soldier, having been invalided out of the service because of
-wounds received late in the summer on the Somme. An interesting lot
-of men for an American boy to be tossed with, particularly for a lad
-as intelligent and observing as our Idaho. The boy was pleased with
-his job and worked well. He did not have very much to do.
-Signalling aboard a convoyed ship, though a frequent business, is not
-an incessant one. He knew that his work would come at the entrance
-to the zone. Sometimes he picked up messages intended for others.
-"_Mt. Ida_, you are out of line," "_Vulcanian_, keep strictly to the
-prescribed zigzag plan." Now he would see the _Sicilian_ asking for
-advice; now there would be a kind of telegraphic tiff between two of
-the vessels of the "Keep further away, hang you" order. Twenty ships
-running without lights through the ambush of the sea, twenty ships,
-twenty pledges of life, satisfied hunger ... victory. In other days,
-one's world at sea was one's ship; a convoy is a kind of solar system
-of solitary worlds. Hour after hour, the assembled ships straggled
-across the great loneliness of the sea.
-
-The crew had a grievance. It was not against their officers, but
-against his majesty's government, against "a bloody lot of top hats."
-A recent regulation had forbidden sailors to import food into the
-United Kingdom, and all the dreams of stocking up "the missus'"
-larder with American abundance had come to naught. Idaho says that
-there was an engineer who was particularly fierce. "Don't we risk
-our lives, I arsk yer," he would say, "bringing stuff to fill their
-ruddy guts, and now they won't even let us bring in a bit of sugar
-for ourselves." The rest of the crew would take up the angry
-refrain; a mention of the food regulations was enough to set the
-entire crew "grousing" for hours.
-
-And then came trouble, real trouble.
-
-On the fifth day out Idaho, called for his early watch, found the
-boat wallowing in a heavy sea. The wind was not particularly heavy,
-but it blew steadily from one point of the compass, and the seas were
-running dark, wind-flecked, and high. The _Sebastopol_, accustomed
-to the calm of eastern seas, was pitching and rolling heavily.
-Presently the cargo began to shift. Now, to have the cargo shift is
-about the most dangerous thing that can happen to a vessel. One
-never can tell just when the centre of gravity of the mass will be
-displaced, and when that contingency occurs, the big iron ship will
-roll over as casually and as easily as a dog before the fire. It
-takes courage, plenty of courage, to keep such a ship running,
-especially if you are down by the boilers or in the engine room. You
-have to be prepared to find yourself lying in a corner somewhere
-looking up at a ceiling which, strange to say, has a door in it. The
-_Sebastopol_ leaned away from the wind like a stricken man crouching
-before a pitiless enemy; the angle of her smokestack more than
-anything else betraying the alarming list. In her stricken
-condition, the ship seemed to become more than ever personal and
-human. Presently her old plates bulged somewhere and she began to
-leak.
-
-The vessel carried a cargo of grain, in these days more than ever a
-cargo epical and symbolic; a holdful of rich grain, grain engendered
-out of fields vast as the sea, bred by the fruitful fire of the sun,
-rippled by the passing of winds from the mysterious hills, grain,
-symbolic of satisfied hunger, ... victory. A cargo of grain, life to
-those on land, to those on board, danger and the possibility of a
-violent if romantic death. The crew, too occupied with the emergency
-to curse the stevedores, ran hither and thither on swift, obscure
-errands. And the weather grew steadily worse, the leak increasing
-with the advance of the storm. Down below, meanwhile, a force of men
-hardly able to keep their balance, buffeted here and there by the
-motion of the ship, and working in an atmosphere of choking dust,
-transferred a number of bags from one side to another. Unhappily,
-the real mischief was due to grain in bins, and with this store
-little could be done. And always the water in the hold increased in
-depth.
-
-The pumps, orders had been given to start them directly the leak was
-noticed. Three minutes later, the machinery and the pipes, fouled
-with grain, refused to work. They saw bubbles, steam, a trickle of
-water that presently stopped, and lumps of wet grain that some one
-might have chewed together, and spat forth again. Idaho did a lot of
-signalling in code to the guide ship of the convoy. The _Sebastopol_
-began to drop behind. An order being given to sleep up on the boat
-deck so as to be ready to leave at any instant, the men dragged their
-bedding to whatever shelter they could find. The captain appeared
-never to take any time off for sleep. Day after day, through heavy
-seas, under a sky torn and dirty as a rag, the old _Sebastopol_
-listing badly and sodden as cold porridge, carried her precious cargo
-to the waiting and hungry east. Giving up all hope of keeping up
-with her sisters, she fell behind, now straggling ten, now fifteen
-miles astern. At length the weather changed; the sea became smooth,
-blue and sparkling, the sky radiant and clear.
-
-Then the destroyers came. There was a parley, and the other vessels
-of the convoy zigzagged wildly for a while in order to allow the
-_Sebastopol_ to catch up. But in spite of all attempts, the old ship
-fell behind again and was suffered to do so, lest the others,
-compelled to adopt her slow speed, be seriously handicapped in their
-race down the gauntlet. Then it was discovered that the leak had
-gained alarmingly; there was even talk of abandoning the vessel and
-taking to the boats. A try was made to pump out the boat with an
-ancient hand engine. The contrivance clogged almost at once.
-According to Idaho, it was much like trying to pump out a thick bran
-mash such as they give sick calves. And they were only two days from
-land. Barely afloat, just crawling, and with the submarine zone
-ahead of them.... But the gods were kind, and the old boat and the
-solitary destroyer went down the Channel and across the Irish Sea as
-safely as clockwork toys across a garden pool. Yet they passed quite
-a tidy lot of wreckage. Nearer ... nearer all the time, till late
-one afternoon two big tugs raced to meet them at the mouth of a giant
-estuary. The _Sebastopol_ was at the end of her tether. Another
-day, and it would have been a case of taking to the boats.
-
-The tugs hurried her into a waiting dry dock.
-
-Idaho, his papers signed, his bag upon his shoulder, got into a
-little tender which was to take him over to the harbour landing.
-Looking up, he saw some of the crew leaning over the rail.... They
-grinned with friendly, soot-streaked faces, waved their arms.... The
-_Sebastopol_ was safe, the rich cargo of grain, the life-giving
-yellow grain was safe.... The tug slid off into the busy, noisy
-riverway.
-
-And thus came Idaho of the Armed Guard to the Beleaguered Isles.
-
-
-
-
-XXXII
-
-COLLISION
-
-"......Regret to report collision in latitude x and longitude y
-between tank steamships _Tampico_ and _Peruvian_......"--_Extract
-from an Admiralty paper_.
-
-
-When supper was over, the two sailors of the Armed Guard attached to
-the ship went out on deck for a breath of evening air. It was just
-after sundown, a clean calm rested upon the monstrous plain of the
-sea; one golden star shone tranquil and lonely in the west. The
-convoy was almost at the border of the zone. To the left the lads
-could see the twin funnels of the big grain ship; the tattered,
-befouled horse boat, the little, rolling tramp said to be full of
-T.N.T., and the long low bulks and squat houses of the two tanks.
-
-"Whoever's on that tramp is some bird at signals," said the bigger of
-the boys, my friend "Pop." "Generally starts to answer my signal
-before I'm through. Know who's aboard her, Robbie?"
-
-"I think it's that big new guy from the Pennsylvania" answered
-Robbie, meditatively.
-
-"Dalton's on the horse boat, isn't he?"
-
-"Sure, either he or Ricci. Pete Johnson's on the first tank, and
-that fresh little Rogers guy's on the other."
-
-There was a pause. Pop spat with unction over the side.
-
-Suddenly their vessel entered a fog bank, passing through a detached
-island or two of it before plunging on into the central mass. The
-convoy instantly faded from sight. Every now and then, out of the
-wall of grey ahead, a little swirl of fog detached itself, and
-floating down the darkening deck, melted into the opaque obscurity
-behind. Drops of moisture began to gather on the lower surface of
-the brass rails of the companion ways; wires grew slippery to the
-touch; little worm-like trails of over-laden drops slid mechanically
-down sloping surfaces. The fog, thickening, flowed alongside like a
-vaporous current. Overhead, however, the sky was fairly clear,
-though the greater stars shone aureoled and pale. There was very
-little sound, merely the steady hissing of the calm water alongside,
-occasional voices heard in a tone of consultation,--the heavy slam of
-a door. An hour passed. The fog showed no sign of lifting, seeming
-rather to become of denser substance with the dark. Pop was glad
-that there was no ship following directly behind, and wondered if the
-others were dragging fog buoys. The ship's bell rang muffled and
-morne in the fog. Suddenly, out of the clinging darkness, out of the
-oppressive obscurity, there came, momentary, brazen, and incredibly
-distant a dull and muffled sound. So far away and mysterious was its
-source that the sound might have been imagined as coming from the
-dark beyond the stars. An instant later, as if the only purpose of
-its mysterious existence had been to sink a tanker, the fog melted
-into the night, and a little wind, a little, timid, trembling breath
-brushed the great plume of smoke from the funnel lightly aside. A
-bright starlit night came into being as if by enchantment, as if
-created out of the fog by the intervention of divine will.
-
-The motionless black shapes of the colliding tankers could be seen
-far, far astern. After the crash, they had drifted apart. The
-wireless was crackling, blinker lights flashed their dots and dashes
-of violet white, a whistle blew. "Am standing by," came a message.
-The chief of the convoy sent out a peremptory command. Presently a
-light appeared on one of the vessels, a little rosy glow like a
-Chinese lantern. The glow sank, disappeared, and rose again, having
-gathered strength. One of the tankers was on fire. Soon a second
-glow appeared close by its stern. A glow of warm, rosy orange. In a
-few minutes they could see tongues of fire, and two boats rowing away
-from the vessel. They did not know that the men in the boats were
-rowing for their lives through a pool of oil which might take fire at
-any instant. A few minutes passed; the light grew brighter.
-Suddenly, there was a kind of flaming burst: a great victory of fire.
-The tanker, well down by the head, floated flaming in an ocean that
-was itself a flame, floated black, silent, and doomed to find an
-ironic grave in the waters under the fire. Great masses of smoke
-rose from the burning pool into the serene sky, and hid the vessel
-when she sank. Half an hour later, a little, rosy light lay at the
-horizon's rim. Suddenly, like a lamp blown out, it died.
-
-
-
-
-XXXIII
-
-THE RAID BY THE RIVER
-
-The convoy of merchantmen, after a calm, quite uneventful voyage
-across the ambushed sea, put into a port on the Channel for the
-night, and the following morning dispersed to their various harbours.
-Some sort of coast patrol boat "not much bigger than an Admiral's
-launch," the words are those of my friend Steve Holzer of the Armed
-Guard, took the S.S. _Snowdon_ under her metaphorical wing, and
-brought her up the Thames. This _Snowdon_ was one of a fleet of
-twelve spry little tramps named for the principal mountains of the
-kingdom, a smart, well-equipped, well-ordered product of the Tyne.
-Steve, quick, clever, and alert, had got along capitally with the
-"limeys." His particular pals were a pair of twin lads about his own
-age, young, English, blond, and grey-eyed; young, slow to understand
-a joke, honest, good-tempered, and sincere. I have seen the postcard
-photograph of themselves which they gave Steve as a parting gift.
-Steve himself is a Yankee from the word go, a genuine Yankee from
-somewhere along the coast of Maine. He stands somewhat below medium
-height, is lean-faced and lean-bodied; his eyes twinkle with a shrewd
-good humour. A great lad. He tells me that his people have been
-seafaring folk for generations.
-
-The _Snowdon_, escorted by her tiny guard, ran down the coast,
-entered the Thames estuary, passed the barriers, and finally resigned
-herself to the charge of a tug. Late in the afternoon, the mass of
-London began to enclose them, they became conscious of strange,
-somewhat foul, land smells; the soot in the air irritated their
-nostrils. The ship was docked close after dusk. The feeling of
-satisfaction which seizes on the hearts of seamen who have
-successfully brought a ship into port entered into their bosoms;
-everybody was happy, happy in the retrospect of achievement, in the
-prospect of peace, security, good pay, and good times.
-
-Their vessel lay in a basin just off a great bend in the river, in a
-kind of gigantic concrete swimming pool bordered with steel arc-light
-poles planted in rows like impossibly perfect trees. To starboard,
-through another row of arc poles and over a wall of concrete, they
-could see the dirty majesty of the great brown river and the square
-silhouetted bulks of the tenements and warehouses on the other side.
-To port, lay a landing stage some two hundred feet wide, backed by a
-huge warehouse over whose dingy roof two immense chimneys towered
-like guardians. The space stank of horse; the river had lost the
-clean smell of the sea, and breathed a reek of humanity and inland
-mire. A mean cobbled-stone street led from a corner of the landing
-space past wretched tenements, fried fish shops, and pawnbrokers'
-windows exhibiting second rate nautical instruments, concertinas, and
-fraternal emblems. It was all surprisingly quiet.
-
-Steve, hospitably invited to remain aboard, went to the starboard
-rail and stood studying the river. The last smoky light had ebbed
-from the sky; night, rich and strewn with autumnal stars, hung over
-the gigantic city, and a moon just passing the first quarter hung
-close by the meridian, and shone reflected in the pool-like basin and
-the river's moving tide. One of the huge chimneys suddenly assumed a
-great, creamy-curling plume of smoke which dissolved mysteriously
-into the exhalations of the city. From down in the crew's quarters
-came the musical squeals of a concertina, and occasional voices whose
-words could but rarely be distinguished. The arc lights by the basin
-edge suddenly flowered into a dismal glow of whitish yellow light
-strangled by the opaque hoods and under cups affixed by the
-anti-aircraft regulations. Another concertina sounded further down
-the street. The moonlight, like a kind of supernal benediction, fell
-on smokestack and funnel, on shining grey wire and solemn, rusted
-anchor, on burnished capstan and finger smoutched door. Heat haze,
-flowing in a swift and glassy river, shone above the smokestack in
-the moon.
-
-Suddenly, Steve heard down the street a sustained note from something
-on the order of a penny whistle, and an instant later, a window was
-flung up, and a figure leaned out. It was too dark to see whether it
-was a man or a woman. Then the same whistle was blown again several
-times as if by a conscientious boy, and a factory siren with a
-sobbing human cry rose over the warehouses. At the same moment, the
-lights about the dock flickered, clicked, and died. There was a
-confused noise of steps behind, there were voices--"Hey, listen!"
-"Wot's that?" the last in pure cockney, and a questioning, doubting
-Thomas voice said: "A raid?" The figure of the captain was seen on
-the bridge. One of the ships' boys went hurrying round, doing
-something or other, probably closing doors. The twins strolled over
-to Steve, and informed him in the most casual manner that they were
-in for a raid. It was Steve's first introduction to British
-unemotionalism, and I imagine that it rather let him down. He says
-that he himself was "right up on his tiptoes." He also had a notion
-that bombs would begin to rain from the sky directly after the
-warning. The twins soon made it clear, however, that the warning was
-given when the raiders were picked up on the east coast, and that
-there was generally some twenty minutes or half an hour to wait
-before "the show" began. Every once in a while, somebody in the
-group would steal a look at the pale worlds beyond the serried
-chimney pots and at the moon, guiltless accomplice of the violence
-and imbecilities of men.
-
-Presently, a number of star shells burst in fountains of coppery
-bronze. Every hatch covered, every port and window sealed, the
-_Snowdon_ awaited the coming of the raiders. Whistles continued to
-be heard, faint and far away. From no word, tone, or gesture of that
-English crew could one have gathered that they were in the most
-dangerous quarter of the city. For the one indispensable element of
-a London raid is the attack on the waterfront, the attack on the
-ships, the ships of wood, the ships of steel, the hollow ships
-through which imperial Britain lives.
-
-There is little to be seen in a London raid unless you happen to be
-close by something struck by a bomb. The affair is almost entirely a
-strange and terrible movement of sound, a rising, catastrophic tide
-of sound, a flood of thundering tumult, a slow and sullen ebb.
-
-"There! 'Ear that?" said some one.
-
-Far away, on the edge of the Essex marshes and the moon-lit sea, a
-number of anti-aircraft guns had picked up the raiders. The air was
-full of a faint, sullen murmur, continuous as the roar of ocean on a
-distant beach. Searchlight beams, sweeping swift and mechanical,
-appeared over London, the pale rays searching the black islands
-between the dimmed constellations like figures of the blind. They
-descended, rose, glared, met, melted together. The sullen roaring
-grew louder and nearer, no longer a blend, but a sustained crescendo
-of pounding sounds and muffled crashes. A belated star shell broke,
-and was reflected in the river. A police boat passed swiftly and
-noiselessly, a solitary red spark floating from her funnel as she
-sped. The roaring gathered strength, the guns on the coast were
-still; now, one heard the guns on the inland moors, the guns in the
-fields beyond quiet little villages, the guns lower down the
-river--they were following the river--now the guns in the outer
-suburbs, now the guns in the very London spaces, ring, crash, tinkle,
-roar, pound! The great city flung her defiance at her enemies.
-Steve became so absorbed in the tumult that he obeyed the order to
-take shelter below quite mechanically. A new sound came screaming
-into their retreat, a horrible kind of whistling zoom, followed by a
-heavy pound. Steve was told that he had heard a bomb fall.
-"Somewhere down the river." Nearer, instant by instant, crept the
-swift, deadly menace. A lonely fragment of an anti-aircraft shell
-dropped clanging on the steel deck.
-
-"You see," explained one of the twins in the careful passionless tone
-that he would have used in giving street directions to a stranger,
-"the Huns are on their way up the river, dropping a kettle on any
-boat that looks like a good mark, and trying to set the docks afire.
-The docks always get it. Listen!"
-
-There was a second "zoom," and a third close on its heels.
-
-"Those are probably on the _Ætna_ basins," said the other twin.
-"Their aim's beastly rotten as a rule. If this light were out, we
-might be able to see something from a hatchway. Mr. Millen (the
-first mate) makes an awful fuss if he finds any one on deck." "I
-know what's what, let's go to the galley, there's a window that can't
-be shut." ... The three lads stole off. Beneath a lamp turned down
-to a bluish-yellow flame, the older seaman waited placidly for the
-end of the raid, and discussed, sailor fashion, a hundred irrelevant
-subjects. The darkened space grew chokingly thick with tobacco
-smoke. And the truth of it was that every single sailor in there
-knew that the last two bombs had fallen on the _Ætna_ basins, and
-that the _Snowdon_ would be sure to catch it next. By a trick of the
-gods of chance, the vessel happened to be alone in the basin, and
-presented a shining mark. The lads reached the galley window.
-
-By crowding in, shoulder to shoulder, they could all see. The pool
-and its concrete wall were hidden; the window opened directly on the
-river. Presently came a lull in the tumult, and during it, Steve
-heard a low, monotonous hum, the song of the raiding planes. More
-fragments of shrapnel fell upon the deck. The moon had travelled
-westward, and lay, large and golden, well clear of the town. The
-winter stars, bright and inexorable, had advanced ... the city was
-fighting on. Suddenly, the three boys heard the ominous aerial
-whistle, one of the twins slammed the window to, and an instant later
-there was a sound within the dark little galley as if somebody had
-touched off an enormous invisible rocket, ... a frightful "zoom," and
-impact ... silence. They guessed what had happened. A bomb intended
-for the _Snowdon_ had fallen in the river. Later somewhere on land
-was heard a thundering crash which shook the vessel violently. A pan
-or something of the kind hanging on the galley wall fell with a
-startling crash. "Get out of there, you boys," called the cook.
-Ship's galleys are sacred places, and are to be respected even in air
-raids. And then even more slowly and gradually than it had gathered
-to a flood, the uproar ebbed. The firing grew spasmodic, ceased
-within the city limits, lingered as a distant rumble from the
-outlying fields, and finally died away altogether. The sailors,
-released by a curt order, came on deck. The top of the concrete wall
-was splashed and mottled with dark puddles and spatters of water.
-All agreed that the bomb had fallen "bloody close." The peace of the
-abyss rules above. Far down the river, there was an unimportant fire.
-
-Said Steve--"I certainly was sore when I didn't have any excitement
-on the way over in the convoy, but after that night in the _Snowdon_,
-I decided that being with the Armed Guard let you in for some real
-stuff. It's a great service."
-
-With which opinion all who know the Guard will agree.
-
-
-
-
-XXXIV
-
-ON HAVING BEEN BOTH A SOLDIER AND A SAILOR
-
-When this cruel war is over, and the mad rounds of parades, banquets
-and reunions begin, I shall immediately set to work to organize the
-most exclusive of clubs. A mocking and envious friend suggests that
-our uniform consist of a white sailor hat, a soldier's tunic,
-British, French, or American according to the flags under which we
-served, and a pair of sailor trousers with an extra wide flare. For
-the club is to be composed of those fortunate souls who like myself
-have seen "the show" on land and on sea. To my mind, however,
-instead of mixing the uniforms, it would be better to dress in khaki
-when we feel military; in blue when our temperament is nautical.
-Think of belonging to a club whose members can dissect a trench
-mortar with ease and at the same time say: "Three points off the port
-bow" without turning a hair. I should admit marines only after a
-special consideration of each case. Not that I don't admire the
-marines. I do. I yield to no one in my admiration of our gallant
-"devil dogs." But the applicant for admission to our club must have
-first served as a bona fide soldier and then as a bona fide sailor or
-vice versa. Not that I am a sailor or ever was a sailor in Uncle
-Sam's Navy. All that I can claim to have been is a correspondent
-attached to the Navy "over there." But four months' service, most of
-it spent at sea on the destroyers, subs, and battleships entitles me,
-I think, to membership, consequently, being president, I have
-admitted myself.
-
-"Well, you've seen the war both on land and on sea; which service do
-you prefer ... the army or the Navy?" This question is hurled at me
-everywhere I go. I answer it with deliberation, enjoying the while
-to the full the consciousness of being an extraordinary person, a
-sort of literary Æneas, _multum jactatus et terris et alto_. And I
-answer briefly:
-
-"The Navy."
-
-I hasten to add, however, that you will find my answer coloured by a
-passion for the beauty and the mystery of the sea with which some
-good spirit endowed me in my cradle. I was born in one of the most
-historic of New England seacoast towns where brine was anciently said
-to flow through the veins of the inhabitants. On midsummer days the
-fierce heat distils from the cracked, caked mud of tidal meadows the
-clean, salty smell of the unsullied sea; dark ships, trailing far
-behind them long, dissolving plumes of smoke, weave in and out
-between the tawny, whale-backed islands of the bay, and tame little
-sea birds almost the colour of the shingle run along at the edge of
-the in-coming tide. So I admit a bias for the service of the sea.
-
-Does the Navy demand as much of the sailor as the Army does of the
-soldier? A vexed question. The Army, comparing grimly its own
-casualty lists with the Navy's occasional roll sometimes imagines
-naturally enough that the sailor lives, as the old hymn has it, "on
-flowery beds of ease." As a whole there is no denying that living
-conditions are far better in the naval service, though much depends
-on the boat to which the sailor is assigned. A soldier in the
-trenches sleeps in his clothes, so does a sailor on a destroyer or a
-patrol boat, and I do not believe that I felt much more comfortable
-at the end of a long trip in an old destroyer during which the vessel
-rolled, pitched, tossed, careened, stood on her head, sat on her tail
-and buckled than I did after a week or so at the front. Certainly,
-there was little to choose between the overcrowded living quarters of
-the sailors and a decent "dug-out." True, the "Toto," alias
-greyback, alias "Cootie" or his occasional but less famous accomplice
-the "crimson rambler" does not infest a Navy ship. How many times
-have I not heard Army folk say in heartfelt tones, "Those Navy people
-can keep _clean_." But a truce to the Cootie. Much more has been
-made of him than he deserves. During the first six months of the war
-the creature was in evidence, but after the hostilities began to
-limit themselves to the trench swathe, and this localizing war made
-possible a stable system of hospitals, cantonments and baths, the
-Cootie became as rare as a day in June and to have such guest was an
-indication of abysmally bad luck or personal uncleanliness.
-Moreover, a little gasoline begged from a lorry driver and sprinkled
-on one's clothes confers unconditional immunity. Consider the crew
-of a submarine. They do not have to splash about in a gulley of
-smelly mud the consistency of thick soup, or wander down alleyways of
-red brown mud, so cheesy that it sticks to the boots till one no
-longer lifts feet from the ground, but shapeless, heavy, thrice
-cussed lumps of mire. No one has yet risen to sing the epic of the
-mud of France; yet 'tis the soul of the war. The submarine sailors
-are spared the mud, but they live in a sealed cylinder into which
-sunlight does not penetrate, live in the close atmosphere of a
-garage; they can not get exercise or change clothes. A submarine
-crew that has had a hard time of it looks quite as worn out as
-soldiers just out of battle and their colour is far worse. And if
-there is a more heroic service than this submarine patrol, I should
-like to know of it.
-
-And now the army in me rises to protest. "I admit," says the
-military voice, "that service on ships may be a confounded sight more
-disagreeable than I had imagined, but the sailor has a chance when he
-gets to port of changing his uniform, whilst a poor lad of a soldier
-must fight, eat, and sleep in the same old uniform, and must limit
-his changes to a change of underclothes."
-
-True, oh military spirit. Civilian, and thou, too, oh sailor, do you
-know what it is to be confined, to be wedded, without jest, "till
-death do us part" to _one_ suit. One faithful, persistent, necessary
-uniform and _one_ only. Two-thirds of the joy of permission is the
-pleasure of getting out of a dirty, stale, besweated uniform. Heaven
-bless, Heaven shower a Niagara of happiness on those kindly ladies
-who sent us supplies of socks and jerseys! Don't be content to knit
-Johnny socks and a sweater, keep on knitting him a number of them,
-and send them over at intervals. The dandies of a section used to
-leave extra clothes in villages behind the lines. Alas, sometimes,
-the group, after service "_aux tranchées_" was not marched back to
-the same village, and it was difficult to get permission to visit the
-other village, even were it near. Such expedients, however, are for
-luxurious times. Quite often there are no habitable villages for
-miles behind the lines, or else the civilian inhabitants have been
-ruthlessly warned away. In such circumstances there is no clean
-cache of clothes to be left behind in Madame's closet. But the
-sailor ... though he returns as grimy as a printers' devil and as
-bearded as a comic tramp, there is always a clean suit of "liberty
-blues" in his bag, and to-morrow, clad in the handsomest of all naval
-uniforms, he will be found ashore, breaking fair British or Irish
-hearts.
-
-I have tried to show that in the judgment of an ex-soldier, the
-difference between the life of a sailor in a fighting ship and the
-life of a soldier in a fighting regiment is by no means as great as
-it has been imagined. The army, I suppose, will grumble at such a
-pronunciamento. Let an objector, then, try being a lookout man all
-winter long on a destroyer ... or try firing a while. All is not
-quite purgatorial even at the front. Most army men know of quiet
-places along the line held on our side by rubicund, wine-bibbing,
-middle-aged French "territoriaux," _bons pères de famille_ who show
-you pictures of Etienne and Maurice; and garrisoned on the enemy's
-border by fat old Huns who want very, very much to get home to their
-great pipe and steaming sauerkraut. In such places each side
-apologizes for the bad taste of their supporting artillery, whilst
-grenade throwing is regarded as the bottom level of viciousness.
-Once in a while people die there of old age, gout, or chronic liver.
-No one is ever killed. Such "ententes cordiales" were far more
-frequent than those behind the line have ever suspected. On the
-other hand, some twenty miles down the trench swathe there may be a
-hillock constantly contested, a strategic point which burns up the
-lives of men as casually as the sustaining of a fire consumes
-faggots. Now it is the quick, merciful bullet in the head, now the
-hot, whizzing éclat of a high explosive, now the earthquake of the
-subterranean mine. But after all, a mine at sea is no more gentle
-than one on land, and to have a mine exploded under him is perhaps
-the eventuality which a soldier fears more than anything else. On
-land, the thundering release of a giant breath from out of the earth,
-a monstrous pall of fragments of soil, stones, and dust ... perhaps
-of fragments more ghastly, at sea, a thundering pound, a column of
-water which seems to stand upright for a second or two and then falls
-crashing on whatever is left of the vessel. _Quelle monde!_
-
-There is a distinct difference between the psychology of the soldier
-and that of the sailor. A soldier of any army is sure to be drilled,
-and drilled, and drilled again till he becomes what he ought to be, a
-cog in an immense machine scientifically designed for the release of
-violence; a sailor, drilled scientifically enough but not so
-machinally, preserves some of the ancient freedom of the sea. Then,
-too, the soldier with his bayonet is a fighting force; the sailor,
-though prepared for it, himself rarely fights, but works a fighting
-mechanism, ... the ship. The battleship X may sink the cruiser Y,
-but there is rarely a "_corps a corps_" such as takes place for
-instance in a disputed shell crater. Thus removed from the baser
-brutalities of war, the sailor never reveals that vein of Berserker
-savagery which soldiers will often reveal in a conquered province.
-As a class, sailors are the best-natured, good-hearted souls in the
-world. Rough some may be, some may be scamps, but brutal, never.
-Moreover, living under a discipline easier to bear than the soldiers,
-Jack has not the sullen streaks that overtake betimes men under arms.
-Of course, he grumbles, enlisted men are not normal if they don't
-grumble, but Jack's grumbling is as nothing compared to the fierce,
-smothered hate for things in general which every soldier sometimes
-feels.
-
-I would follow the sea, because I am a lover of the mystery and
-beauty of the sea, and because my comrades would be sailormen. I
-would knock at the Navy's door because, after all is said and done,
-the naval power is the ultima ratio of this titanic affair. I have
-seen many of the great scenes of this war, among them Verdun on the
-first night of the historic battle, but nothing that I saw on land
-impressed me as did my first view of the British Grand Fleet in its
-northern harbour, ... the dark ships, the hollow ships, rulers of the
-past, rulers of the future, unconquered and unconquerable.
-
-H.B.B.
-
- The Parson Capen House,
- Topsfield, 1919.
-
-
-
-END
-
-
-
- THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS
- GARDEN CITY, N.Y.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Full Speed Ahead, by Henry B. Beston
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Full Speed Ahead
- Tales from the Log of a Correspondent with Our Navy
-
-Author: Henry B. Beston
-
-Release Date: August 29, 2019 [EBook #60196]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FULL SPEED AHEAD ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Al Haines
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-front"></a>
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-front.jpg" alt="&quot;A destroyer is by no means a paradise of comfort&quot;" />
-<br />
-&quot;A destroyer is by no means a paradise of comfort&quot;
-</p>
-
-<h1>
-<br /><br />
- FULL SPEED<br />
- AHEAD<br />
-</h1>
-
-<p class="t2">
- Tales from the Log of a Correspondent<br />
- with Our Navy<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p class="t3b">
- BY<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="t2">
- HENRY B. BESTON<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="t3">
- GARDEN CITY NEW YORK<br />
- DOUBLEDAY, PAGE &amp; COMPANY<br />
- 1919<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="t4">
- Copyright, 1919, by<br />
- DOUBLEDAY, PAGE &amp; COMPANY<br />
- All rights reserved, including that of<br />
- translation into foreign languages,<br />
- including the Scandinavian<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="t4">
- Copyright, 1918, by The Atlantic Monthly Company<br />
- Copyright, 1918, by The Curtis Publishing Company<br />
- Copyright, 1918, by The North American Review Pub. Co,<br />
- Copyright, 1918, by The American National Red Cross<br />
- Copyright, 1918, by The Outlook Company<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="t3">
- To<br />
- MAJOR GEORGE MAURICE SHEAHAN<br />
- HARVARD UNIT R.A.M.C.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="t4">
- A Forerunner of the Great Crusade.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="preface"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-PREFACE
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-These tales are memories of several months
-spent as a special correspondent attached
-to the forces of the American Navy on
-foreign service. Many of the little stories
-are personal experiences, though some are
-"written up" from the records and others
-set down after interviews. In writing them,
-I have not sought the laurels of an official
-historian, but been content to chronicle the
-interesting incidents of the daily life as well
-as the achievements and heroisms of the
-friends who keep the highways of the sea.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-To my hosts of the United States Navy
-one and all, I am under deep obligation for
-the courtesy and hospitality everywhere
-extended to me on my visit. But surely the
-greatest of my obligations is that owed to
-Secretary Daniels for the personal permission
-which made possible my journey? and for the
-good will with which he saw me on my way.
-And no acknowledgment, no matter how
-studied or courtly its phrasing, can express
-what I owe to Admiral Sims for the friendliness
-of my reception, for his care that I be shown
-all the Navy's activities, and for his constant
-and kindly effort to advance my work in
-every possible way. To Admiral Hugh
-Rodman of the battleship squadron, his sometime
-guest here renders thanks for the opportunity
-given him to spend some ten days aboard
-the American flagship and for the welcome
-which makes his stay aboard so pleasant a
-memory.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-To the following officers, also, am I much
-indebted: Captain, now Admiral Hughes,
-Captain J. R. Poinsett Pringle, Chief of Staff
-at the Irish Base, Captain Thomas Hart,
-Chief of Staff directing submarine operations,
-Commander Babcock and Commander
-Daniels, both of Admiral Sims' staff,
-Commander Bryant and Commander Carpender,
-both of Captain Pringle's staff, Commander
-Henry W. Cooke and Commander Wilson
-Brown, both of the destroyer flotilla, Lieutenant
-Horace H. Jalbert of the U.S.S. Bushnell,
-Lieutenant Commander Morton L. Deyo,
-Chaplain J. L. Neff, Lieutenant F. H. King,
-Lieutenant Lanman, Lieutenant Herrick,
-and Lieutenant Lewis Hancock, Lieutenant
-George Hood and Lieutenant Bumpus
-of our submarines.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I would not end without a word of thanks
-to the enlisted men for their unfailing good
-will and ever courteous behaviour.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-To Mr. Ellery Sedgwick of the <i>Atlantic
-Monthly</i>, under whose colours I had the
-honour to make my journalistic cruise, I
-am indebted for more friendly help, counsel
-and encouragement than I shall ever be able
-to repay. And I shall not easily forget the
-kindly offices and unfailing hospitality of
-Captain Luke C. Doyle of Washington, D.C.,
-and Mr. Sidney A. Mitchell of the London
-Committee of the United States Food Administration.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Lucky is the correspondent sent to the
-Navy!
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-H. B. B.
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-TOPSFIELD AND QUINCY, 1919
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="t3b">
- CONTENTS<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
- <a href="#preface">Preface</a><br />
- I&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap01">An Heroic Journey</a><br />
- II&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap02"> Into the Dark</a><br />
- III&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap03"> Friend or Foe?</a><br />
- IV&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap04"> Running Submerged</a><br />
- V&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap05"> The Return of the Captains</a><br />
- VI&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap06"> Our Sailors</a><br />
- VII&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap07"> The Base</a><br />
- VIII&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap08"> The Destroyer and Her Problem</a><br />
- IX&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap09"> Torpedoed</a><br />
- X&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap10"> The End of a Submarine</a><br />
- XI&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap11"> "Fishing"</a><br />
- XII&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap12"> Amusements</a><br />
- XIII&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap13"> Storm</a><br />
- XIV&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap14"> On Night Patrol</a><br />
- XV&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap15"> Camouflage</a><br />
- XVI&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap16"> Tragedy</a><br />
- XVII&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap17"> "Consolidation not Coöperation"</a><br />
- XVIII&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap18"> Machine against Machine</a><br />
- XIX&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap19"> The Legend of Kelley</a><br />
- XX&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap20"> Sons of the Trident</a><br />
- XXI&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap21"> The Fleet</a><br />
- XXII&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap22"> The American Squadron</a><br />
- XXIII&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap23"> To Sea with the Fleet</a><br />
- XXIV&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap24"> "Sky Pilots"</a><br />
- XXV&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap25"> In the Wireless Room</a><br />
- XXVI&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap26"> Marines</a><br />
- XXVII&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap27"> Ships of the Air</a><br />
- XXVIII&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap28"> The Sailor in London</a><br />
- XXIX&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap29"> The Armed Guard</a><br />
- XXX&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap30"> Going Aboard</a><br />
- XXXI&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap31"> Grain</a><br />
- XXXII&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap32"> Collision</a><br />
- XXXIII&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap33"> The Raid by the River</a><br />
- XXXIV&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#chap34"> On Having been both a Soldier and a Sailor</a><br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="t3b">
-ILLUSTRATIONS
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<a href="#img-front">
-"A destroyer is by no means a paradise
-of comfort"</a> . . . <i>Frontispiece</i>
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<a href="#img-014">
-A flock of submarines and the "mother" ship in harbour
-</a>
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<a href="#img-068">
-American destroyer on patrol
-</a>
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<a href="#img-082">
-The last of a German U-boat
-</a>
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<a href="#img-114">
-To enjoy their leisure between watches these
-officers of an American destroyer lash
-themselves into their seats
-</a>
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<a href="#img-156">
-An American battleship fleet leaving the harbour
-</a>
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<a href="#img-164">
-Even a super-dreadnought is wet at times
-</a>
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<a href="#img-206">
-An American gun crew in heavy weather (winter) outfit
-</a>
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap01"></a></p>
-
-<p class="t2">
-FULL SPEED AHEAD
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h3>
-I
-<br /><br />
-AN HEROIC JOURNEY
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-A London day of soft and smoky skies
-darkened every now and then by capricious
-and intrusive little showers was
-drawing to a close in a twilight of gold and
-grey. Our table stood in a bay of plate glass
-windows over-looking the embankment close
-by Cleopatra's needle; we watched the little,
-double-decked tram cars gliding by, the
-opposing, interthreading streams of pedestrians,
-and a fleet of coal barges coming up
-the river solemn as a cloud. Behind us lay,
-splendid and somewhat theatric, the mottled
-marble, stiff, white napery, and bright silver
-of a fashionable dining hall. Only a few
-guests were at hand. At our little table sat
-the captain of a submarine who was then in
-London for a few days on richly merited leave,
-a distinguished young officer of the "mother
-ship" accompanying our under water craft,
-and myself. It is impossible to be long with
-submarine folk without realizing that they
-are a people apart, differing from the rest of
-the Naval personnel even as their vessels differ.
-A man must have something individual to
-his character to volunteer for the service,
-and every officer is a volunteer. An
-extraordinary power of quick decision, a certain
-keen, resolute look, a certain carriage;
-submarine folk are such men as all of us pray to
-have by our side in any great trial or crisis
-of our life.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Guests began to come by twos and threes,
-girls in pretty shimmering dresses, young army
-officers with wound stripes and clumsy limps; a
-faint murmur of conversation rose, faint and
-continuous as the murmur of a distant stream.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Because I requested him, the captain told
-me of the crossing of the submarines. It
-was the epic of an heroic journey.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"After each boat had been examined in
-detail, we began to fill them with supplies for
-the voyage. The crew spent days manoeuvring
-cases of condensed milk, cans of butter,
-meat, and chocolate down the hatchways,
-food which the boat swallowed up as if she
-had been a kind of steel stomach. Until we
-had it all neatly and tightly stowed away,
-the Z looked like a corner grocery store.
-Then early one December morning we pulled
-out of the harbour. It wasn't very cold, merely
-raw and damp, and it was misty dark. I
-remember looking at the winter stars riding
-high just over the meridian. The port behind
-us was still and dead, but a handful of navy
-folk had come to one of the wharves to see
-us off. Yes, there was something of a stir,
-you know the kind of stir that's made when
-boats go to sea, shouted orders, the splash of
-dropped cables, vagrant noises. It didn't
-take a great time to get under way; we were
-ready, waiting for the word to go. The flotilla,
-mother-ship, tugs and all, was out to sea long
-before the dawn. You would have liked the
-picture, the immense stretch of the greyish,
-winter-stricken sea, the little covey of
-submarines running awash, the grey mother-ship
-going ahead casually as an excursion steamer
-into the featureless dawn. The weather was
-wonderful for two days, a touch of Indian
-summer on December's ocean, then on the
-night of the third day we ran into a blow,
-the worst I ever saw in my life. A storm....
-Oh boy!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-He paused for an instant to flick the ashes
-from his cigarette with a neat, deliberate
-gesture. One could see memories living in
-the fine, resolute eyes. The broken noises
-of the restaurant which had seemingly died
-away while he spoke crept back again to one's
-ears. A waiter dropped a clanging fork.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"A storm. Never remember anything like
-it. A perfect terror. Everybody realized that
-any attempt to keep together would be
-hopeless. And night was coming on. One
-by one the submarines disappeared into that
-fury of wind and driving water; the mothership,
-because she was the largest vessel in the
-flotilla, being the last we saw. We snatched
-her last signal out of the teeth of the gale,
-and then she was gone, swallowed up in the
-storm. So we were alone.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We got through the night somehow or other.
-The next morning the ocean was a dirty
-brown-grey, and knots and wisps of cloud
-were tearing by close over the water. Every
-once in a while a great, hollow-bellied wave
-would come rolling out of the hullaballoo and
-break thundering over us. On all the boats
-the lookout on the bridge had to be lashed in
-place, and every once in a while a couple of
-tons of water would come tumbling past
-him. Nobody at the job stayed dry for more
-than three minutes; a bathing suit would
-have been more to the point than oilers.
-Shaken, you ask? No, not very bad, a few
-assorted bruises and a wrenched thumb,
-though poor Jonesie on the Z3 had a wave
-knock him up against the rail and smash in
-a couple of ribs. But no being sick for him,
-he kept to his feet and carried on in spite of
-the pain, in spite of being in a boat which
-registered a roll of seventy degrees. I used
-to watch the old hooker rolling under me.
-You've never been on a submarine when she's
-rolling&mdash;talk about rolling&mdash;oh boy! We
-all say seventy degrees because that's as far
-as our instruments register. There were times
-when I almost thought she was on her way
-to make a complete revolution. You can
-imagine what it was like inside. To begin
-with, the oily air was none too sweet, because
-every time we opened a hatch we shipped
-enough water to make the old hooker look
-like a start at a swimming tank, and then
-she was lurching so continuously and violently
-that to move six feet was an expedition.
-But the men were wonderful, wonderful!
-Each man at his allotted task, and&mdash;what's
-that English word, ... carrying on. Our
-little cook couldn't do a thing with the stove,
-might as well have tried to cook on a miniature
-earthquake, but he saw that all of us had
-something to eat, doing his bit, game as
-could be."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-He paused again. The embankment was
-fading in the dark. A waiter appeared, and
-drew down the thick, light-proof curtains.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Yes, the men were wonderful&mdash;wonderful.
-And there wasn't very much sickness. Let's
-see, how far had I got&mdash;since it was impossible
-to make any headway we lay to for forty-eight
-hours. The deck began to go the second
-morning, some of the plates being ripped
-right off. And blow&mdash;well as I told you in
-the beginning, I never saw anything like
-it. The disk of the sea was just one great,
-ragged mass of foam all being hurled through
-space by a wind screaming by with the voice
-and force of a million express trains. Perhaps
-you are wondering why we didn't submerge.
-Simply couldn't use up our electricity. It
-takes oil running on the surface to create the
-electric power, and we had a long, long
-journey ahead. Then ice began to form on
-the superstructure, and we had to get out
-a crew to chop it off. It was something of a
-job; there wasn't much to hang on to, and
-the waves were still breaking over us. But
-we freed her of the danger, and she went on.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We used to wonder where the other boys
-were in the midst of all the racket. One was
-drifting towards the New England coast,
-her compass smashed to flinders; others had
-run for Bermuda, others were still at sea.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Then we had three days of good easterly
-wind. By jingo, but the good weather was
-great, were we glad to have it&mdash;oh boy!
-We had just got things ship-shape again when
-we had another blow but this second one was
-by no means as bad as the first. And after
-that we had another spell of decent weather.
-The crew used to start the phonograph and
-keep it going all day long.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The weather was so good that I decided
-to keep right on to the harbour which was
-to be our base over here. I had enough oil,
-plenty of water, the only possible danger
-was a shortage of provisions. So I put us all
-on a ration, arranging to have the last grand
-meal on Christmas day. Can you imagine
-Christmas on a little, storm-bumped
-submarine some hundred miles off the coast?
-A day or two more and we ran calmly into
-... Shall we say deleted harbour?
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Hungry, dirty, oh so dirty, we hadn't
-had any sort of bath or wash for about
-three weeks; we all were green looking from
-having been cooped up so long, and our
-unshaven, grease-streaked faces would have
-upset a dinosaur. The authorities were
-wonderfully kind and looked after us and
-our men in the very best style. I thought
-we could never stop eating and a real sleep,
-... oh boy!
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Did you fly the flag as you came in?" I
-asked.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You bet we did!" answered the captain,
-his keen, handsome face lighting at the
-memory. "You see," he continued in a practical
-spirit, "they would probably have pumped
-us full of holes if we hadn't."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And that is the way that the American submarines
-crossed the Atlantic to do their share
-for the Great Cause.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap02"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-II
-<br /><br />
-INTO THE DARK
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-I got to the Port of the Submarines just
-as an uncertain and rainy afternoon had
-finally decided to turn into a wild and
-disagreeable night. Short, drenching showers of
-rain fell one after the other like the strokes of
-a lash, a wind came up out of the sea, and one
-could hear the thunder of surf on the
-headlands. The mother ship lay moored in a wild,
-desolate and indescribably romantic bay;
-she floated in a sheltered pool a very oasis
-of modernity, a marvellous creature of another
-world and another time. There was just
-light enough for me to see that her lines were
-those of a giant yacht. Then a curtain of
-rain beat hissing down upon the sea, and the
-ship and the vague darkening landscape
-disappeared, disappeared as if it might have
-melted away in the shower. Presently the
-bulk of the vessel appeared again: gliding and
-tossing at once we drew alongside, and from
-that moment on, I was the guest of the
-vessel, recipient of a hospitality and courtesy
-for which I here make grateful acknowledgment
-to my friends and hosts.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The mother ship of the submarines was a
-combination of flag ship, supply station,
-repair shop and hotel. The officers of the
-submarines had rooms aboard her which
-they occupied when off patrol, and the
-crews off duty slung their hammocks 'tween
-decks. The boat was pretty well crowded,
-having more submarines to look after than
-she had been built to care for, but thanks
-to the skill of her officers, everything was
-going as smoothly as could be. The vessel
-had, so to speak, a submarine atmosphere.
-Everybody aboard lived, worked and would
-have died for the submarine. They believed
-in the submarine, believed in it with an
-enthusiasm which rested on pillars of practical
-fact. The Chief of Staff was the youngest
-captain in our Navy, a man of hard energy
-and keen insight, one to whom our submarine
-service owes a very genuine debt. His officers
-were specialists. The surgeon of the vessel
-had been for years engaged in studying the
-hygiene of submarines, and was constantly
-working to free the atmosphere of the vessels
-from deleterious gases and to improve the
-living conditions of the crews. I remember
-listening one night to a history of the
-submarine told by one of the officers of the staff,
-and for the first time in my life I came to
-appreciate at its full value the heroism of
-the men who risked their lives in the first
-cranky, clumsy, uncertain little vessels, and
-the imagination and the faith of the men
-who believed in the type. Ten years ago,
-a descent in a sub was an adventure to
-be prefaced by tears and making of wills;
-to-day submarines are chasing submarines
-hundreds of miles at sea, are crossing the
-ocean, and have grown from a tube of steel
-not much larger than a life boat to underwater
-cruisers which carry six-inch guns.
-Said an officer to me:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The future of the submarine? Why, sir,
-the submarine is the only war vessel that's
-going to have a future!"
-</p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-014"></a>
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-014.jpg" alt="A flock of submarines and the &quot;mother&quot; ship in harbor" />
-<br />
-A flock of submarines and the &quot;mother&quot; ship in harbor
-</p>
-
-<p>
-On the night of my arrival, once dinner
-was over, I went on deck and looked down
-through the rain at the submarines moored
-alongside. They lay close by, one beside
-the other, in a pool of radiance cast by a
-number of electric lights hanging over each open
-hatchway. Beyond this pool lay the rain and
-the dark; within it, their sides awash in the
-clear green water of the bay, their grey bridges
-and rust-stained superstructures shining in
-the rain, lay the strange, bulging, crocodilian
-shapes of steel. There was something
-unearthly, something not of this world or time
-in the picture; I might have been looking
-at invaders of the sleeping earth. The wind
-swept past in great booming salvoes; rain
-fell in sloping, liquid rods through the
-brilliancy of electric lamps burning with a
-steadiness that had something in it of strange,
-incomprehensible and out of place in the
-motion and hullabaloo of the storm. And then,
-too, a hand appeared on the topmost rung of
-the nearer ladder, and a bulky sailor, a very
-human sailor in very human dungarees, poked
-his head out of the aperture, surveyed the
-inhospitable night, and disappeared.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"He's on Branch's boat. They're going
-out to-night," said the officer who was guiding
-me about.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"To-night? How on earth will he ever
-find his way to the open sea?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Knows the bay like a book. However,
-if the weather gets any worse, I doubt if the
-captain will let him go. George will be wild
-if they don't let him out. Somebody has
-just reported wreckage off the coast, so there
-must be a Hun round."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"But are not our subs sometimes mistaken
-for Germans?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Oh, yes," was the calm answer.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I thought of that ominous phrase I
-had noted in the British records "failed
-to report," and I remembered the stolid
-British captain who had said to me,
-speaking of submarines, "Sometimes nobody
-knows just what happened. Out there in
-the deep water, whatever happens, happens
-in a hurry." My guide and I went below
-to the officers' corridor. Now and then,
-through the quiet, a mandolin or guitar
-could be heard far off twanging some
-sentimental island ditty, and beneath these
-sweeter sounds lay a monotonous mechanical
-humming.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What's that sound?" I asked.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"That's the Filipino mess boys having a
-little festino in their quarters. The humming?
-Oh, that's the mother-ship's dynamos charging
-the batteries of Branch's boat. Saves
-running on the surface."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My guide knocked at a door. Within his
-tidy, little room, the captain who was to
-go out on patrol was packing the personal
-belongings he needed on the trip.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Hello, Jally!" he cried cheerily when he
-saw us. "Come on in. I am only doing a
-little packing up. What's it like outside?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Raining same as ever, but I don't think
-it's blowing up any harder."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Hooray!" cried the young captain with
-heart-felt sincerity. "Then I'll get out
-to-night. You know the captain told me that
-if it got any worse he'd hold me till to-morrow
-morning. I told him I'd rather go out
-to-night. Perfect cinch once you get to the
-mouth of the bay, all you have to do is
-submerge and take it easy. What do you think
-of the news? Smithie thinks he saw a Hun
-yesterday.... Got anything good to read?
-Somebody's pinched that magazine I was
-reading. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, that
-ought to be enough handkerchiefs.... Hello,
-there goes the juice."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The humming of the dynamo was dying
-away slowly, fading with an effect of lengthening
-distance. The guitar orchestra, as if
-to celebrate its deliverance, burst into a
-triumphant rendering of Sousa's "Stars and
-Stripes."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My guide and I waited till after midnight
-to watch the going of Branch's Z5. Branch
-and his second, wearing black oilskins down
-whose gleaming surface ran beaded drops
-of rain, stood on the bridge; a number of
-sailors were busy doing various things along
-the deck. The electric lights shone in all their
-calm unearthly brilliance. Then slowly, very
-slowly, the Z5 began to gather headway,
-the clear water seemed to flow past her green
-sides, and she rode out of the pool of light
-into the darkness waiting close at hand.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Good-bye! Good luck!" we cried.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-A vagrant shower came roaring down into
-the shining pool.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Good-bye!" cried voices through the night.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Three minutes later all trace of the Z5 had
-disappeared in the dark.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap03"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-III
-<br /><br />
-FRIEND OR FOE?
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-Captain Bill of the Z3 was out on
-patrol. His vessel was running
-submerged. The air within, they had
-but recently dived, was new and sweet, and
-that raw cold which eats into submerged
-submarines had not begun to take the joy
-out of life. It was the third day out; the time,
-five o'clock in the afternoon. The outer world,
-however, did not penetrate into the submarine.
-Night or day, on the surface or submerged,
-only one time, a kind of motionless electric
-high noon existed within those concave walls
-of gleaming cream white enamel. Those of
-the crew not on watch were taking it easy.
-Like unto their officers, submarine sailors
-are an unusual lot. They are real sailors,
-or machinist sailors, boys for whose quality
-the Navy has a flattering, picturesque and
-quite unprintable adjective. A submarine
-man, mind you, works harder than perhaps
-any other man of his grade in the Navy,
-because the vessel in which he lives is nothing
-but a tremendously intricate machine. In
-one of the compartments the phonograph,
-the eternal, ubiquitous phonograph of the
-Navy, was bawling its raucous rags and
-mechano-nasal songs, and in the pauses between
-records one could just hear the low hum of
-the distant dynamos. A little group in blue
-dungarees held a conversation in a corner;
-a petty officer, blue cap tilted back on his head,
-was at work on a letter; the cook, whose
-genial art was customarily under an interdict
-while the vessel was running submerged, was
-reading an ancient paper from his own home
-town.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Captain Bill sat in a retired nook, if a
-submarine can possibly be said to have a retired
-nook, with a chart spread open on his knees.
-The night before he had picked up a wireless
-message saying that a German had been
-seen at sundown in a certain spot on the edge
-of his patrol. So Captain Bill had planned to
-run submerged to the spot in question, and
-then pop up suddenly in the hope of potting
-the Hun. Some fifteen minutes before sun
-down, therefore, the Z3 arrived at the place
-where the Fritz had been observed.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-"I wish I knew just where the bird was,"
-said an intent voice. "I'd drop a can right on
-his neck."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-These sentiments were not those of anybody
-aboard the Z3. An American destroyer
-had also come to the spot looking for the
-German, and the gentle thought recorded
-above was that of her captain. It was just
-sun down, a level train of splendour burned
-on the ruffled waters to the west; a light,
-cheerful breeze was blowing. The destroyer,
-ready for anything, was hurrying along at a
-smart clip.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"This is the place all right, all right,"
-said the navigator of the destroyer. "Come
-to think of it, that chap's been reported from
-here twice."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Keen eyes swept the shining uneasy plain.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Meanwhile, some seventy feet below, the
-Z3 manoeuvred, killing time. The phonograph
-had been hushed, and every man was
-ready at his post. The prospect of a go with
-the enemy had brought with it a keen thrill of
-anticipation. Now a submarine crew is a
-well trained machine. There are no shouted
-orders. If a submarine captain wants to
-send his boat under quickly, he simply touches
-the button of a Klaxon, the horn gives a
-demoniac yell throughout the ship, and each
-man does what he ought to do at once. Such
-a performance is called a "crash dive."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I'd like to see him come up so near that we
-could ram him," said the captain, gazing
-almost directly into the sun. "Find out
-what she's making."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The engineer lieutenant stooped to a
-voice-tube that almost swallowed up his face,
-and yelled a question to the engine room.
-An answer came, quite unheard by the
-others.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Twenty-four, sir," said the engineer lieutenant.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Get her up to twenty-six," said the captain.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The engineer cried again through the voice
-tube. The wake of the vessel roared like a
-mill race, the white foam tumbling rosily in
-the setting sun.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Seventy feet below, Captain Bill was arranging
-the last little details with the second
-in command.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"In about five minutes we'll come up and
-take a look-see (stick up the periscope)
-and if we see the bird, and we're in a good
-position to send him a fish (torpedo) we'll
-let him have one. If there is something there,
-and we're not in a good position, we'll
-manoeuvre till we get into one, and then let him
-have it. If there isn't anything to be seen,
-we'll go under again and take another look-see
-in half an hour. Reilly has his
-instructions." Reilly was chief of the torpedo room.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-"Something round here must have got it
-in the neck recently," said the destroyer
-captain, breaking a silence which had hung
-over the bridge. "Did not you think that
-wreckage a couple of miles back looked pretty
-fresh? Wonder if the boy we're after had
-anything to do with it. Keep an eye on that
-sun streak."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-An order was given in the Z3. It was
-followed instantly by a kind of commotion,
-sailors opened valves, compressed air ran
-down pipes, the ratchets of the wheel
-clattered noisily. On the moon-faced depth gauge
-with its shining brazen rim, the recording
-arrow fled swiftly, counter clockwise, from
-seventy to twenty to fifteen feet....
-Captain Bill stood crouching at the periscope, and
-when it broke the surface, a greenish light
-poured down it and focussed in his eyes. He
-gazed keenly for a few seconds, and then
-reached for the horizontal wheel which turns
-the periscope round the horizon. He turned
-... gazed, jumped back, and pushed the
-button for a crash dive.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"She was almost on top of me," he explained
-afterwards. "Coming like H&mdash;l. I had to
-choose between being rammed or depth
-bombed."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There was another swift commotion,
-another opening and closing of valves, and
-the arrow on the depth gauge leaped forward.
-Captain Bill was sending her down as far
-as he could as fast as he dared. Fifty feet,
-seventy feet, ... ninety feet. Hoping to
-throw the destroyer off, the Z3 doubled on
-her track. A hundred feet.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Crash! Depth charge number one.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-According to Captain Bill, who is good at
-similes, it was as if a giant, wading along
-through the sea, had given the boat a vast
-and violent kick, and then leaning down
-had shaken it as a terrier shakes a rat. The
-Z3 rocked, lay on her side, and fell through
-the depths. A number of lights went out.
-Men picked themselves out of corners, one
-with the blood streaming down his face from
-a bad gash over his eye. Many of them
-told later of "seeing stars" when the
-vibration of the depth charge travelled through
-the hull and their own bodies; some averred
-that "white light" seemed to shoot out of
-the Z3's walls. Each man stood at his post
-waiting for the next charge.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Crash! A second depth charge. To every
-one's relief, it was less violent than the first.
-A few more lights went out. Meanwhile the
-Z3 continued to sink and was rapidly nearing
-the danger point. Having escaped the first
-two depth charges, Captain Bill hastened
-to bring the boat up to a higher level. Then
-to make things cheerful, it was discovered
-that the Z3 showed absolutely no inclination
-to obey her controls.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"At first," said Captain Bill, "I thought
-that the first depth bomb must have jammed
-all the external machinery, then I decided
-that our measures to rise had not yet
-overcome the impetus of our forced descent.
-Meanwhile the old hooker was heading for
-the bottom of the Irish Sea, though I'd
-blown out every bit of water in her tanks.
-Had to, fifty feet more, and she would have
-crushed in like an egg shell under the wheel
-of a touring car. But she kept on going down.
-The distance of the third, fourth and fifth
-depth bombs, however, put cheer in our hearts.
-Then, presently, she began to rise. The old
-girl came up like an elevator in a New York
-business block. I knew that the minute I
-came to the surface those destroyer brutes
-would try to fill me full of holes, so I had a
-man with a flag ready to jump on deck the
-minute we emerged. He was pretty damn
-spry about it, too. I took another look-see
-through the periscope, and saw that the
-destroyer lay about two miles away, and as I
-looked she came for me again. Meanwhile,
-my signal man was hauling himself out of the
-hatchway as if his legs were in boiling water."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"We've got her!" cried somebody aboard
-the destroyer in a deep American voice full
-of the exultation of battle. The lean rifles
-swung, lowered.... "Point one, lower." They
-were about to hear "Fire!" when the
-Stars and Stripes and sundry other signals
-burst from the deck of the misused Z3.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well what do you think of that?" said
-the gunner. "If it ain't one of our own gang.
-Say, we must have given it to 'em hard."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"We'll go over and see who it is," said the
-captain of the destroyer. "The signals are
-O.K., but it may be a dodge of the Huns.
-Ask 'em who they are."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-In obedience to the order, a sailor on the
-destroyer's bridge wigwagged the message.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Z3," answered one of the dungaree-clad
-figures on the submarine's deck. Captain
-Bill came up himself, as the destroyer drew
-alongside, to see his would-be assassin. There
-was no resentment in his heart. The adventure
-was only part of the day's work. The
-destroyer neared; her bow overlooked them.
-The two captains looked at each other. The
-dialogue was laconic.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Hello, Bill," said the destroyer captain.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"All right?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Sure," answered Captain Bill, to one who
-had been his friend and class mate.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Ta, ta, then," said he of the destroyer,
-and the lean vessel swept away in the twilight.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Captain Bill decided to stay on the surface
-for a while. Then he went below to look
-over things. The cook, standing over some
-unlovely slop which marked the end of a
-half dozen eggs broken by the concussion,
-was giving his opinion of the undue hastiness
-of destroyers. The cook was a child of
-Brooklyn, and could talk. The opinion was
-not flattering.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Give it to 'em, cooko," said one of the
-crew, patting the orator affectionately on
-the shoulder. "We're with you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And Captain Bill laughed.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap04"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-IV
-<br /><br />
-RUNNING SUBMERGED
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-It was breakfast time, and the officers
-of the submarines then in port had
-gathered round one end of the long
-dining table in the wardroom of the mother
-ship. Two or three who had breakfasted
-early had taken places on a bench along the
-nearer wall and were examining a disintegrating
-heap of English and American magazines,
-whilst pushed back from the table
-and smoking an ancient briar, the senior of
-the group read the wireless news which had
-just arrived that morning. The news was
-not of great importance. The lecture done
-with, the tinkle of cutlery and silver, which
-had been politely hushed, broke forth again.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What are you doing this morning, Bill?"
-said one of the young captains to another who
-had appeared in old clothes.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Going out at about half past nine with
-the X10. (The X10 was a British
-submarine.) Just going to take a couple of shots
-at each other. What are you up to?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Oh, I've got to give a bearing the once
-over, and then I've got to write a bunch of
-letters."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Wouldn't you like to come with us?"
-said the first speaker, pausing over a steaming
-dish of breakfast porridge. "Be mighty
-glad to take you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Indeed I would," I replied with joy in
-my heart. "All my life long I have wanted
-to take a trip in a submarine."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"That's fine! We'll get you some dungarees.
-Can't fool round a submarine in good
-clothes." The whole table began to take a
-friendly interest, and a dispute arose as to
-whose clothes would best fit me. I am a
-large person. "Give him my extra set,
-they're on the side of my locker." "Don't
-you want a cap or something?" "Hey,
-that's too small, wait and I'll get Tom's
-coat." "Try these on." They are a wonderful
-lot, the submarine officers.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I felt frightfully submarinish in my outfit.
-We must have made a picturesque group.
-The captain led off, wearing a tattered,
-battered, old uniform of Annapolis days, I
-followed wearing an old Navy cap jammed
-on the side of my head and a suit of newly
-laundered dungarees; the second officer
-brought up the rear; his outfit consisted of
-dungaree trousers, a kind of aviator's
-waistcoat, and an old cloth cap.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The submarines were moored close by the
-side of the mother ship, a double doorway
-in the wall of the machine shop on the lower
-deck opening directly upon them. A narrow
-runway connected the nearest vessel with the
-sill of this aperture, and mere planks led from
-one superstructure to another. The day,
-first real day after weeks of rain, was soft
-and clear, great low masses of vapour, neither
-mist nor cloud, but something of both, swept
-down the long bay on the wings of the
-wind from the clean, sweet-smelling sea; the
-sun shone like ancient silver. Little fretful
-waves of water clear as the water of a spring
-coursed down the alley ways between the
-submarines; gulls, piping and barking, whirled
-like snow flakes overhead. I crossed to one
-grey alligatorish superstructure, looked down
-a narrow circular hatch at whose floor I could
-see the captain waiting for my coming,
-grasped the steel rings of a narrow ladder,
-and descended into the submarine. The
-first impression was of being surrounded by
-tremendous, almost incredible complexity.
-A bewildering and intricate mass of delicate
-mechanical contrivances, valves, stop cocks,
-wheels, chains, shining pipes, ratchets, faucets,
-oil-cups, rods, gauges. Second impression,
-bright cleanliness, shining brass, gleams of
-steely radiance, stainless walls of white enamel
-paint. Third impression, size; there was
-much more room than I had expected. Of
-course everything is to be seen by floods
-of steady electric light, since practically no
-daylight filters down through an open hatchway.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"This," said the captain, "is the control
-room. Notice the two depth gauges, two in
-case one gets out of order. That thick tube
-with a brass thread coiled about it is a
-periscope, and it's a peach! It's of the
-'housing' kind and winds up and down along
-that screw. The thread prevents any leak
-of water. In here," we went through a
-lateral compartment with a steel door, thick
-as that of a small safe, "is a space where
-wee eat, sleep and live; our cook stove is that
-gadget in the corner. We don't do much
-cooking when we're running submerged; in here,"
-we passed another stout partition, "is our
-Diesel engine, and our dynamos. Up forward
-is another living space which technically
-belongs to the officers, and the torpedo room." He
-took me along. "Now you've seen it all.
-A fat steel cigar, divided into various
-compartments and cram jammed full of shining
-machinery. Of course, there's no privacy,
-whatsoever. (Readers will have to guess
-what is occasionally used for the phonograph
-table.) Our space is so limited that designers
-will spend a year arguing where to put an
-object no bigger than a soap box. We get
-on very well however. Every crew gets used
-to its boat; the men get used to each other.
-They like the life; you couldn't drag them
-back to surface vessels. An ideal submarine
-crew works like a perfect machine. When we
-go out you'll see that we give our orders by
-Klaxon. There's too much noise for the voice.
-Suppose I had popped up on the surface
-right under the very nose of one of those
-destroyer brutes. She might start to ram me;
-in which case I might not have time to make
-recognition signals and would have to take
-my choice between getting rammed or depth
-bombed. I decide to submerge, push a button,
-the Klaxon gives a yell, and every man does
-automatically what he has been trained to
-do. A floods the tanks, B stands by the
-dynamos, C watches the depth gauges and
-so on. That's what we call a crash dive."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Over at the destroyer base," I said,
-"they told me that the Germans were having
-trouble because of lack of trained crews."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You can just bet they are," said the
-captain. "Must have lost several boats
-that way. Can't monkey with these boats;
-if somebody pulls a fool stunt&mdash;Good Night!" He
-opened a gold watch and closed it again
-with a click. "Nine o'clock, just time to shove
-off. Come up on the bridge until we get out
-in the bay."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I climbed the narrow ladder again and crept
-along the superstructure to the bridge which
-rose for all the world like a little grey steel
-pulpit. One has to be reasonably sure-footed.
-It was curious to emerge from the electric
-lighted marvel to the sunlight of the bay, to
-the view of the wild mountains descending to
-the clear sea. The captain gave his orders.
-Faint, vague noises rose out of the hatchway;
-sailors standing at various points
-along the superstructure cast off the mooring
-ropes and took in bumpers shaped like
-monstrous sausages of cord which had
-protected one bulging hull from another;
-the submarine went ahead solemnly as a
-planet. Friendly faces leaned over the rail
-of the mother ship high above.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Once out into the bay, I asked the second
-in command just what we were up to. The
-second in command was a well knit youngster
-with the coolest, most resolute blue eyes it
-has ever been my fortune to see.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"We're going to take shots at a British
-submarine and then she's going to have a try
-at us. We don't really fire torpedoes&mdash;but
-manoeuvre for a position. Three shots apiece.
-There she is now, running on the surface.
-Just as soon as we get out to deep water
-we'll submerge and go for her. Great practice."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-A British submarine, somewhat larger than
-our American boat, was running down the
-bay, pushing curious little waves of water
-ahead of her. Several men stood on her
-deck.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Nice boat, isn't she? Her captain's a
-great scout. About two months ago a patrol
-boat shot off his periscope <i>after</i> he made it
-reasonably clear he wasn't a Hun. You
-ought to hear him tell about it. Especially
-his opinion of patrol boat captains. Great
-command of language. Bully fellow, born
-submarine man."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I meant to ask you if you weren't sometimes
-mistaken for a German," I said.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Yes, it happens," he answered coolly.
-"You haven't seen Smithie yet, have you?
-Guess he was away when you came. A
-bunch of destroyers almost murdered him
-last month. He's come the nearest to kissing
-himself good-bye of any of us. Going to dive
-now, time to get under."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Once more down the steel ladder. I was
-getting used to it. The handful of sailors
-who had been on deck waited for us to pass.
-Within, the strong, somewhat peppery smell
-of hot oil from the Diesel engines floated,
-and there was to be heard a hard, powerful
-knocking-spitting sound from the same source.
-The hatch cover was secured, a listener
-might have heard a steely thump and a
-grind as it closed. Men stood calmly by the
-depth gauges and the valves. Not being a
-"crash dive," the feat of getting under was
-accomplished quietly, accomplished with no
-more fracas than accompanies the running
-of a motor car up to a door. One instant we
-were on the surface, the next instant we
-were under, and the lean black arrow on the
-broad moon-faced depth gauge was beginning
-to creep from ten to fifteen, from fifteen to
-twenty, from twenty to twenty-five....
-The clatter of the Diesel engine had ceased;
-in its place rose a low hum. And of course
-there was no alteration of light, nothing but
-that steady electric glow on those cold, clean
-bulging walls.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What's the programme, now?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"We are going down the bay a bit, put up
-our periscope, pick up the Britisher, and
-fire an imaginary tin fish at him. After each
-shot, we come to the surface for an instant
-to let him know we've had our turn."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What depth are we now?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Only fifty-five feet."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What depth can you go?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The Navy Regulations forbid our descending
-more than two hundred feet. Subs are
-always hiking around about fifty or seventy-five
-feet under, just deep enough to be well
-under the keel of anything going by."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Where are we now?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Pretty close to the mouth of the bay.
-I'm going to shove up the periscope in a few
-minutes."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The captain gave an order, the arrow
-on the dial retreated towards the left.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Keep her there." He applied his eye
-to the periscope. A strange, watery green
-light poured out of the lens, and focussing in
-his eye, lit the ball with wild demoniac glare.
-A consultation ensued between the captain
-and his junior.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Do you see her?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Yes, she is in a line with that little white
-barn on the island.... She's heading down
-the bay now.... So many points this way
-(this last direction to the helmsman)
-... there she is ... she's making about twelve
-... she's turning, coming back ... steady
-... five, ... six ... Fire!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There was a rush, a clatter, and a stir and
-the boat rose evenly to the surface.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Here, take a look at her," said the
-captain, pushing me towards the periscope. I
-fitted the eyepieces (they might have been
-those of field glasses embedded in the tube)
-to my eyes, and beheld again the outer world.
-The kind of a world one might see in a crystal,
-a mirror world, a glass world, but a remarkably
-clear little world. And as I peered, a drop
-of water cast up by some wave touched the
-outer lens of the tube, and a trickle big as
-a deluge slid down the visionary bay.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Twice again we "attacked" the Britisher.
-Her turn came. Our boat rose to the surface,
-and I was once more invited to accompany
-the captain to the bridge. The British boat
-lay far away across the inlet. We cruised
-about watching her.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"There she goes." The Britisher sank
-like a stone in a pond. We continued our
-course. The two officers peered over the
-water with young, searching, resolute eyes.
-Then they took to their binoculars.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"There she is," cried the captain, "in a
-line with the oak tree." I searched for a few
-minutes in vain. Suddenly I saw her, that is
-to say, I saw with a great deal of difficulty
-a small dark rod moving through the water.
-It came closer; I saw the hatpin shaped
-trail behind it.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Presently with a great swirl and roiling of
-foam the Britisher pushed herself out of the
-water. I could see my young captain judging
-the performance in his eye. Then we played
-victim two more times and went home. On
-the way we discussed the submarine patrol.
-Now there is no more thrilling game in the
-world than the game of periscope <i>vs.</i> periscope.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What do you do?" I asked. "Just what
-you saw us do to-day. We pack up grub
-and supplies, beat it out on the high seas
-and wait for a Fritz to come along. We
-give him a taste of his own medicine; given
-him one more enemy to dodge. Suppose a
-Hun baffles the destroyers, makes off to a
-lonely spot, and comes to the surface for a
-breath of air. There isn't a soul in sight,
-not a stir of smoke on the horizon. Just as
-Captain Otto, or Von Something is gloating
-over the last hospital ship he sunk, and
-thinking what a lovely afternoon it is, a tin fish
-comes for him like a bullet out of a gun, there
-comes a thundering pound, a vibration that
-sends little waves through the water, a great
-foul swirl, fragments of cork, and it's all over
-with the Watch on the Rhine. Sometimes
-Fritz's torpedo meets ours on the way. Then
-once in a while a destroyer or a patriotic
-but misguided tramp makes things interesting
-for a bit. But it's the most wonderful service
-of all. I wouldn't give it up for anything.
-We're all going out day after to-morrow.
-Can't you cable London for permission to
-go? You'll like it. Don't believe anything
-you hear about the air getting bad. The
-principal nuisance when you've been under
-a long while is the cold; the boat gets as raw
-and damp as an unoccupied house in winter.
-Jingo, quarter past one! We'll be late for
-dinner."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-Some time after this article had appeared, the captain
-of an American submarine gave me a copy of the
-following verses written by a submarine sailor. Poems
-of this sort, typewritten by some accommodating
-yeoman, are always being handed round in the Navy; I
-have seen dozens of them. Would that I knew the
-author of this picturesque and flavorous ditty, for I
-would gladly give him the credit he deserves.
-</p>
-
-<p class="t3">
- A SUBMARINE<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- Born in the shops of the devil,<br />
- Designed by the brains of a fiend;<br />
- Filled with acid and crude oil,<br />
- And christened "A Submarine."<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- The posts send in their ditties<br />
- Of battleships spick and clean;<br />
- But never a word in their columns<br />
- Do you see of a submarine.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- So I'll endeavour to depict our story<br />
- In a very laconic way;<br />
- So please have patience to listen<br />
- Until I have finished my say.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- We eat where'er we can find it,<br />
- And sleep hanging up on hooks;<br />
- Conditions under which we're existing<br />
- Are never published in books.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- Life on these boats is obnoxious<br />
- And this is using mild terms;<br />
- We are never bothered by sickness,<br />
- There isn't any room for germs.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- We are never troubled with varmints,<br />
- There are things even a cockroach can't stand;<br />
- And any self-respecting rodent<br />
- Quick as possible beats it for land.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- And that little one dollar per diem<br />
- We receive to submerge out of sight,<br />
- Is often earned more than double<br />
- By charging batteries all night.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- And that extra compensation<br />
- We receive on boats like these,<br />
- We never really get at all.<br />
- It's spent on soap and dungarees.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- Machinists get soaked in fuel oil,<br />
- Electricians in H2SO4,<br />
- Gunner's mates with 600 W,<br />
- And torpedo slush galore.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- When we come into the Navy Yard<br />
- We are looked upon with disgrace;<br />
- And they make out some new regulation<br />
- To fit our particular case.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- Now all you battleship sailors,<br />
- When you are feeling disgruntled and mean,<br />
- Just pack your bag and hammock<br />
- And go to a submarine.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap05"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-V
-<br /><br />
-THE RETURN OF THE CAPTAINS
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-The breakfast hour was drawing to
-its end, and the very last straggler
-sat alone at the ward room table.
-Presently an officer of the mother ship, passing
-through, called to the lingering group of
-submarine officers.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The X4 is coming up the bay, and the X12
-has been reported from signal station."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The news was received with a little hum of
-friendly interest. "Wonder what Ned will
-have to say for himself this time." "Must
-have struck pretty good weather." "Bet
-you John has been looking for another chance
-at that Hun of his." The talk drifted away
-into other channels. A little time passed.
-Then suddenly a door opened, and one after
-the other entered the three officers of the
-first home coming submarine. They were
-clad in various ancient uniforms which might
-have been worn by an apprentice lad in a
-garage, old grey flannel shirts, and stout
-grease stained shoes; several days had passed
-since their faces had felt a razor, and all were
-a little pale from their cruise. But the liveliest
-of keen eyes burned in each resolute young
-face, eyes smiling and glad. A friendly
-hullaballoo broke forth. Chairs scraped, one
-fell with a crash.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Hello, boys!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Hi, John!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"For the love of Pete, Joe, shave off those
-whiskers of yours; they make you look like
-Trotsky."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"See any Germans?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What's the news?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What's doing?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Hi, Manuelo" (this to a Philipino mess
-boy who stood looking on with impassive
-curiosity), "save three more breakfasts."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Anything go for you?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well, if here isn't our old Bump!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The crowd gathered round Captain John
-who had established contact (this is military
-term quite out of place in a work on the Navy)
-with the eagerly sought, horribly elusive
-German.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Go on, John, give us an earful. What
-time did you say it was?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"About 5 A.M.," answered the captain.
-He stood leaning against a door and the fine
-head, the pallor, the touch of fatigue, all made
-a very striking and appealing picture. "Say
-about eight minutes after five. I'd just come
-up to take a look-see, and saw him just about
-two miles away on the surface, and moving
-right along. So I went under to get into a good
-position, came up again and let him have
-one. Well, the bird saw it just as it was
-almost on him, swung her round, and dived
-like a ton of lead."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The audience listened in silent sympathy.
-One could see the disappointment on the
-captain's face.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Where was he?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"About so and so."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"That's the jinx that got after the convoy
-sure as you live."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The speaker had had his own adventures
-with the Germans. A month or so he shoved
-his periscope and spotted a Fritz on the
-surface in full noonday. The watchful Fritz,
-however, had been lucky enough to see the
-enemy almost at once and had dived. The
-American followed suit. The eyeless
-submarine manoeuvred about some eighty feet
-under, the German evidently "making his
-get-a-way," the American hoping to be lucky
-enough to pick up Fritz's trail, and get a
-shot at him when the enemy rose again, to
-the top. And while the two blind ships
-manoeuvred there in the dark of the abyss,
-the keel of the fleeing German had actually,
-by a curious chance, scraped along the top
-of the American vessel and carried away the
-wireless aerials!
-</p>
-
-<p>
-All were silent for a few seconds, thinking
-over the affair. It was not difficult to read
-the thought in every mind, the thought of
-<i>getting at the enemy</i>. The idea of our Navy
-is "Get after 'em, Keep after 'em, Stay after
-'em, Don't give 'em an instant of security or
-rest." And none have this fighting spirit
-deeper in their hearts than our gallant men
-of the submarine patrol.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"That's all," said Captain John. "I'm
-going to have a wash up." He lifted a grease
-stained hand to his cheek, and rubbed his
-unshaven beard, and grinned.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Any letters?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Whole bag of stuff. Smithie put it on your
-desk."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Captain John wandered off. Presently,
-the door opened again, and three more veterans
-of the patrol cruised in, also in ancient
-uniforms. There were more cheers; more
-friendly cries. It was unanimously decided
-that the "Trotsky" of the first lot had better
-take a back seat, since the second in command
-of the newcomers was "a perfect ringer for
-Rasputin."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"See anything?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Nothing much. There's a bit of wreckage
-just off shore. Saw a British patrol boat early
-Tuesday morning. I was on the surface,
-lying between her and the sunrise; she was
-hidden by a low lying swirl of fog; she saw
-us first. When we saw her, I made signals,
-and over she came. Guess what the old
-bird wanted ... <i>wanted to know if I'd seen
-a torpedo he'd fired at me</i>! An old scout with
-white whiskers, one of those retired captains,
-I suppose, who has gone back on the job.
-He admitted that he had received the Admiralty
-notes about us, but thought we acted
-suspicious.... Did you ever hear of such
-nerve!"
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-When the war was young, I had a year
-of it on land. Now, I have seen the war at
-sea. To my mind, if there was one service of
-this war which more than any other required
-those qualities of endurance, skill and courage
-whose blend the fighting men so wisely call
-"<i>guts</i>," it surely was our submarine patrol.
-So here's to the L boats, their officers and
-crews, and to the <i>Bushnell</i> and her brood of
-Bantry Bay!
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap06"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-VI
-<br /><br />
-OUR SAILORS
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-In the lingo of the Navy, the enlisted
-men are known as "gobs." This word
-is not to be understood as in any sense
-conveying a derogatory meaning. The men
-use it themselves;&mdash;"the <i>gobs</i> on the
-210." "What does a real <i>gob</i> want with a wrist
-watch?" It is an unlovely syllable, but it
-has character.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-In the days before the war, our navy was,
-to use an officer's phrase, more of "a big
-training school" than anything else. There
-were, of course, a certain number of young
-men who intended to become sailors by
-profession, even as some entered the regular
-army with the intention of remaining in it,
-but the vast majority of sailors were "one
-enlistment men" who signed on for four
-years and then returned to civilian life. The
-personnel included boys just graduated from
-or weary of high school, young men from the
-western farms eager for a glimpse of the
-world, and city lads either uncertain as to just
-what trade or profession they should follow
-or thirsting for a man's cup of adventure
-before settling down to the prosaic task that
-gives the daily bread.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-To-day, the enlisted personnel of the Navy
-is a cross section of the Nation's youth.
-There are many college men, particularly
-among the engineers. There are young men
-who have abandoned professions to enter
-the Navy to do their bit. For instance, the
-yeoman who ran the little office on board
-Destroyer 66 was a young lawyer who had
-attained real distinction. On board the same
-destroyer was a lad who had been for a year
-or two a reporter on one of the New York
-papers, and a chubby earnest lad whose
-father is a distinguished leader of the
-Massachusetts bar. Of my four best friends, "Pop"
-had worked in some shop or other, "Giles"
-was a student from an agricultural college
-somewhere in western New York, "Idaho"
-was a high school boy fresh from a great
-ranch, and "Robie" was the son of a physician
-in a small southern city. The Napoleonic
-veterans of the new navy are the professional
-"gobs" of old; sailors with second enlistment
-stripes go down the deck the very <i>vieux de la
-veille</i>.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The sailor suffers from the fact that many
-people have fixed in their minds an imaginary
-sailor whom they have created from light
-literature and the stage. Just as the soldier
-must always be a dashing fellow, so must the
-sailor be a rollicking soul, fond of the bottle
-and with a wife in every port. Is not the
-"comic sailor" a recognized literary figure?
-Yet whoever heard of the "comic soldier"?
-This silly phantom blinds us to the genuine
-charm of character with which the sea endows
-her adventurous children; we turn into a
-frolic a career that is really one of endurance,
-heroism, and downright hard work. Not
-that I am trying to make Jack a sobersides
-or a saint. He is full of fun and spirit. But
-the world ought to cease imagining him either
-as a mannerless "rough-houser" or a low
-comedian. Our sailors have no special
-partiality for the bottle; indeed, I feel quite
-certain that a majority of every crew "keep
-away from booze" entirely. As for having
-a wife in every port, the Chaplain says that a
-sailor is the most faithful husband in the world.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-As a lot, sailors are unusually good-hearted.
-This last Christmas the men of our American
-battleships now included in the Grand Fleet
-requested permission to invite aboard the
-orphan children of a great neighbouring city,
-and give them an "American good time." So
-the kiddies were brought aboard; Jack rigged
-up a Christmas tree, and distributed presents
-and sweets in a royal style. Said a witness of
-the scene to me, "I never saw children so happy."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-One of the passions which sway "the gobs"
-is to have a set of "tailor-made" liberty
-blues. By "liberty blues" you are to understand
-the sailor's best uniform, the picturesque
-outfit he wears ashore. Surely the uniform
-of our American sailor is quite the handsomest
-of all. On such a flimsy excuse, however, as
-that "the government stuff don't fit you round
-the neck" or "hasn't any <i>style</i>," Jack is
-forever rushing to some Louie Katzenstein in
-Norfolk, Va., or Sam Schwartz of Charlestown,
-Mass., to get a "real" suit made. Endless
-are the attempts to make these "a little
-bit <i>different</i>," attempts, alas, which invariably
-end in reprimand and disaster. The <i>dernier
-cri</i> of sportiness is to have a right hand pocket
-lined with starboard green and a left hand
-pocket lined with port red. A second
-ambition is to own a heavy seal ring, "fourteen
-karat, Navy crest. Name and date of
-enlistment engraved free." Sailors pay anywhere
-from twenty to seventy dollars for these
-treasures. To-day, the style is to have a
-patriotic motto engraved within the band.
-I remember several inscribed "Democracy
-or Death." The desire of having a "real"
-watch comes next in hand, and if you ask a
-sailor the time he is very liable to haul out a
-watch worth anywhere from a hundred and
-fifty to two hundred dollars.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Our sailors are the very finest fellows
-in the world to live with. I sailed with the
-Navy many thousand miles; I visited all
-the great bases, and <i>I did not see one single
-case of drunkenness or disorderly behaviour</i>.
-The work done by our sailors was a hard and
-gruelling labour, the seas which they patrolled
-were haunted by every danger, yet everywhere
-they were eager and keen, their energy
-unabated, their spirits unshaken.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap07"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-VII
-<br /><br />
-THE BASE
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-The town which served as the base of
-the American destroyers has but
-one great street; it is called The
-Esplanade, and lies along the harbour edge
-and open to the sea. I saw it first in
-the wild darkness of a night in early March.
-Rain, the drenching, Irish rain, had been
-falling all the day, but toward evening the
-downpour had ceased, and a blustery south-east
-wind had thinned the clouds, and brought
-the harbour water to clashing and complaining
-in the dark. It was such a night as a man
-might peer at from a window, and be grateful
-for the roof which sheltered him, yet up
-and down the gloomy highway, past the
-darkened houses and street lamps shaded to mere
-lifeless lumps of light, there moved a large
-and orderly crowd. For the most part, this
-crowd consisted of American sailors from the
-destroyers in port, lean, wholesome-looking
-fellows these, with a certain active and eager
-manner very reassuring to find on this side
-of our cruelly tried and jaded world. Peering
-into a little lace shop decked with fragile
-knickknacks and crammed with bolts of
-table linen, I saw two great bronzed fellows
-in pea jackets and pancake hats buying
-something whose niceties of stitch and texture a
-little red-cheeked Irish lass explained with
-pedagogic seriousness; whilst at the other
-end of the counter a young officer with grey
-hair fished in his pockets for the purchase
-money of some yards of lace which the
-proprietress was slowly winding around a bit
-of blue cardboard. Back and forth, now
-swallowed up in the gloom of a dark stretch,
-now become visible in the light of a shop
-door, streamed the crowd of sailors, soldiers,
-officers, country folk and townspeople. I
-heard Devon drawling its oe's and oa's;
-America speaking with Yankee crispness, and
-Ireland mingling in the babel with a mild and
-genial brogue.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-By morning the wind had died down; the
-sun was shining merrily, and great mountain
-masses of rolling white cloud were sailing
-across the sky as soft and blue as that which
-lies above Fiesole. Going forth, I found
-the little town established on an edge of land
-between the water and the foot of a hill;
-a long hill whose sides were in places so
-precipitous that only masses of dark green
-shrubbery appeared between the line of
-dwellings along the top and the buildings of the
-Esplanade. The hill, however, has not had
-things all its way. Two streets, rising at an
-angle which would try the endurance of an
-Alpine ram actually go in a straight line from
-the water's edge to the high ground, taking
-with them, in their ascent, tier after tier of
-mean and grimy dwellings. All other streets,
-however, are less heroic, and climb the side
-of the hill in long, sloping lateral lines. A new
-Gothic cathedral, built just below the crest
-of the hill, but far overtopping it, dominates
-and crowns the town; perhaps crushes would
-be the better verb, for the monstrous bone-grey
-mass towers above the terraced roofs of the
-port with an ascendancy as much moral as
-physical. Yet for all its vastness and
-commanding situation, it is singularly lifeless,
-and only the trickery of a moonlight night
-can invest its mediocre, Albert-Memorial
-architecture with any trace of beauty.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The day begins slowly there, partly because
-this south Irish climate is such stuff as dreams
-are made of, partly because good, old
-irreconcilables are suspicious of the daylight
-saving law as a British measure. There is
-little to be seen till near on ten o'clock. Then
-the day begins; a number of shrewd old fish
-wives, with faces wrinkled like wintered
-apples and hair still black as a raven's wing,
-set up their stalls in an open space by a line
-of deserted piers, and peasants from near by
-villages come to town driving little donkey
-carts laden with the wares; now one hears
-the real rural brogue, the shrewd give and take
-of jest and bargain, and a prodigious yapping
-and snarling from a prodigious multitude of
-curs. Never have I seen more collarless dogs.
-The streets are full of the hungry, furtive
-creatures; there is a fight every two or three
-minutes between some civic champion and
-one of the invading rural mongrels; many
-is the Homeric fray that has been settled by
-a good kick with a sea boot. Little by little
-the harbour, seeing that the land is at last
-awake, comes ashore to buy its fresh eggs,
-green vegetables, sweet milk and golden
-Tipperary butter. The Filipino and negro
-stewards from the American ships arrive with
-their baskets and cans; they are very popular
-with Queenstown folk who cherish the delusion
-that our trimly dressed, genially grinning
-negroes are the American Indians of boyhood's
-romance. From the cathedral's solitary
-spire, a chime jangles out the quarters,
-amusing all who pause to listen with its
-involuntary rendering of the first bar of "Strike
-up the band; here comes a sailor." And
-ever and anon, a breeze blows in from the
-harbour bringing with it a faint smell from the
-funnels of the oil-burning destroyers, a smell
-which suggests that a giant oil lamp
-somewhere in the distance has need of turning
-down. After the lull of noon, the men to
-whom liberty has been given begin to arrive
-in boatloads forty and fifty strong. The
-patrollers, distinguished from their fellows
-by leggins, belts, white hats, and police billie,
-descend first, form in line, and march off
-to their ungrateful task of keeping order where
-there is no disorder; then, scrambling up
-the water side stairs like youngsters out of
-school, follow the liberty men. If there is
-any newcomer to the fleet among them, it
-is an even chance that he will be rushed
-over the hill to the <i>Lusitania</i> cemetery, a
-gruesome pilgrimage to which both British
-and American tars are horridly partial. Some
-are sure to stroll off to their club, some elect
-to wander about the Esplanade, others
-disappear in the highways and byways of the
-town. For Bill and Joe have made friends.
-There have been some fifty marriages at this
-base. I imagine a good deal of match-making
-goes on in those grimy streets, for the Irish
-marriage is, like the Continental one, no
-matter of silly sentiment, but a serious
-domestic transaction. All afternoon long, the
-sailors come and go. The supper hour takes
-them to their club; night divides them
-between the movies and the nightly promenade
-in the gloom.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The glories of this base as a mercantile port,
-if there ever were any&mdash;and the Queenstown
-folk labour mightily to give you the impression
-that it was the only serious rival to London&mdash;are
-now over with the glories of Nineveh and
-Tyre. A few Cunard lithographs of leviathans
-now for the most part at the bottom of the
-sea, a few dusty show cases full of souvenirs,
-pigs and pipes of black, bog oak, "Beleek"
-china, a fragile, and vanilla candy kind of
-ware, and lace 'kerchiefs "made by the
-nuns" alone remain to recall the tourist
-traffic that once centred here. To-day, one
-is apt to find among the souvenirs an
-incongruous box of our most "breathy" (forgive
-my new-born adjective) variety of American
-chewing gum. If you would imagine our
-base as it was in the great days, better
-forget the port entirely and try to think of a
-great British and American naval base
-crammed with shipping flying the national
-ensigns, of waters thrashed by the propellers of
-oil tankers, destroyers, cruisers, armed sloops,
-mine layers, and submarines even. A busy
-dockyard clangs away from morning till night;
-a ferry boat with a whistle like the frightened
-scream of a giant's child runs back and
-forth from the docks to the Admiralty pier,
-little parti-coloured motor dories run swiftly
-from one destroyer to another.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-From the hill top, this harbour appears
-as a pleasant cove lying among green hills.
-On the map, it has something the outline
-of a blacksmith's anvil. Taking the narrow
-entrance channel to be the column on which
-the anvil rests, there extends to the right,
-a long tapering bay, stretching down to a
-village leading over hill, over dale to
-tumble-down Cloyne, where saintly Berkeley long
-meditated on the non-existence of matter;
-there lies to the right a squarer, blunter bay
-through which a river has worn a channel.
-This channel lies close to the shore, and
-serves as the anchorage.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Over the tops of the headlands, rain-coloured
-and tilted up to a bank of grey
-eastern cloud, lay the vast ambush, the
-merciless gauntlet of the beleaguered sea.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap08"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-VIII
-<br /><br />
-THE DESTROYER AND HER PROBLEM
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-About a quarter of a mile apart, one
-after the other along the ribbon of deep
-water just off the shore, lie a number
-of Admiralty buoys about the size and shape
-of a small factory boiler. At these buoys,
-sometimes attached in little groups of two,
-three, and even four to the same ring bolt,
-lie the American destroyers. From the shore
-one sees the long lean hull of the nearest
-vessel and a clump of funnels all tilted
-backwards at the same angle. The air above
-these waspish nests, though unstained with
-smoke, often broods vibrant with heat. All
-the destroyers are camouflaged, the favourite
-colours being black, West Point grey and
-flat white. This camouflage produces neither
-by colour nor line the repulsive and silly effect
-which is for the moment so popular. Going
-aboard a destroyer for the first time, a lay
-observer is struck by their extraordinary
-leanness, a natural enough impression when
-one recalls that the vessels measure some three
-hundred feet in length and only thirty-four
-in width. Many times have I watched from
-our hill these long, low, rapier shapes steal
-swiftly out to sea, and been struck with the
-terror, the genuine dread that lies in the
-word <i>destroyer</i>. For it is a terrible word,
-a word heavy with destruction and vengeance,
-a word that is akin to many an Old Testament
-phrase.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Our great destroyer fleet may be divided
-into two squadrons, the first of larger boats
-called "thousand tonners," the second of
-smaller vessels known as "flivvers." Another
-division parts the thousand tonners into those
-which have a flush deck from bow to stern,
-and those which have a forward deck on a
-higher level than the main deck. All these
-types burn oil, the oil burner being nothing
-more than a kind of sprayer whose mist of
-fuel a forced draft whirls into a roar of flame;
-all can develop a speed of at least twenty-nine
-knots. The armament varies with the
-individual vessel, the usual outfit consisting
-of four four-inch guns, two sets of torpedo
-tubes, two mounted machine guns, and a
-store of depth charges.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-These charges deserve a eulogy of their
-own. They have done more towards winning
-the war than all the giant howitzers whose
-calibre has stupefied the world. In
-appearance and mechanism they are the simplest
-of affairs. The Navy always refers to them
-as cans: "I dropped a can right on his head";
-"it was the last can that did the business." Imagine
-an ash can of medium size painted
-black and transformed into a ponderous thick
-walled cylinder of steel crammed with some
-three hundred pounds of T.N.T. and you
-have a perfect image of one. Now imagine
-at one end of this cylinder a detonator
-protected by an arrangement which can be set
-to resist the pressure of water at various
-levels. A sub appears, and sinks swiftly.
-If it is just below the surface, the destroyer
-drops a bomb set to explode at a depth of
-seventy feet. The bomb then sinks by its
-own weight to that level at which the outward
-force of the protective mechanism is
-over-balanced by the inward pressure of the water;
-the end yields, the detonator crushes, the
-bomb explodes, and your submarine is flung
-horribly out of the depths almost clear of
-the water, and while he is up, the destroyer's
-guns fill the hull full of holes. Or suppose
-the submarine to have gone down two hundred
-feet. Then you drop a bomb geared to
-that depth upon him, and blow in his sides
-like a cracked egg. The sound of these
-engines travels through the water some twenty
-or twenty-five miles, and there have been ships
-who have caught the vibration of a distant
-depth bomb through their hulls and thought
-themselves torpedoed. I once saw a depth
-bomb roll off a British sloop into a half
-filled dry dock; the men scrambled away like
-mad, but returned in a few minutes to fish
-out a "can," that had sixty more feet to go
-before it could burst. It lay on the bottom
-harmless as a stone. The charges rest at the
-stern of a vessel, lying one above the other
-on two sloping runways, and can be released
-either from the stern or by hydraulic pressure
-applied at the bridge. The credit for this
-exceedingly successful scheme belongs to a
-distinguished American naval officer.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The destroyer has but one deck which is
-arranged in the following manner. I take one
-of the "thousand tonners" as an illustration.
-From an incredibly lean, high bow, a first
-deck falls back a considerable distance to a
-four-inch gun; behind the gun lies another
-open space closed by a two-storied structure
-whose upper section is the bridge and whose
-lower section a chart room. At the rear of
-this structure the hull of the boat is cut
-away, and one descends by a ladder from the
-deck which is on the level of the chart room
-floor, to the main deck level some eight feet
-below. Beyond this cut but one deck lies,
-the mere steel covering of the hull. Guns
-and torpedo tubes are mounted on it, the
-funnels rise flush from the plates; a life line
-lies strung along its length, and strips of cocoa
-matting try to give something of a footing.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The officers' quarters are to be found under
-the forward deck. The sleeping rooms are
-situated on both sides of a narrow passageway
-which begins at the bow and leads to the open
-living room and dining room space known as
-the ward room. In the hull, in the space
-beneath the wardroom lie the quarters of
-the crew, amidships lie the boilers and the
-engine room, and beyond them, a second
-space for the crew and the petty officers.
-A destroyer is by no means a paradise of
-comfort, though when the vessel lies in a quiet
-port, she can be as attractive and livable as
-a yacht. But Heaven help the poor sailor
-aboard a destroyer at sea! The craft rolls,
-dips, shudders, plunges like a horse straight
-up at the stars, sinks rapidly and horribly,
-and even has spells of see-sawing violently
-from side to side. Its worst motion is an
-unearthly twist,&mdash;a swift appalling rise at a
-dreadful angle, a toss across space to the
-other side of a wave, a fearful descent
-sideways and down and a ghastly shudder.
-"You need an iron stomach" to be on a destroyer
-is a navy saying. Some, indeed, can
-never get used to them, and have to be
-transferred to other vessels.
-</p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-068"></a>
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-068.jpg" alt="American destroyer on patrol" />
-<br />
-American destroyer on patrol
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The destroyer is the capital weapon against
-the submarine. She can out-race a sub,
-can fight him with guns, torpedoes, or depth
-charges; she can send him bubbling to the
-bottom by ramming him amidships. She
-can confuse him by throwing a pall of smoke
-over his target; she can beat off his attacks
-either above or below the surface. He
-fires a torpedo at her, she dodges, runs down
-the trail of the torpedo, drops a depth bomb,
-and brings her prey to the surface, an actual
-incident this. Her problem is of a dual nature,
-being both defensive and offensive. To-day,
-her orders are to escort a convoy through
-the danger zone to a position in latitude x and
-longitude y; to-morrow, her orders are to
-patrol a certain area of the beleaguered sea
-or a given length of coast.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Based upon a foreign port, working in
-strange waters, the destroyer flotilla added
-to the fine history of the American Navy a
-splendid record of endurance, heroism and
-daring achievement.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap09"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-IX
-<br /><br />
-TORPEDOED
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-If you would understand the ocean we
-sailed in war-time, do not forget that it
-was essentially an ambush, that the foe
-was waiting for us in hiding. Nothing real or
-imagined brooded over the ocean to warn a
-vessel of the presence of danger, for the waters
-engulfed and forgot the tragedies of this war
-as they have engulfed and forgotten all
-disasters since the beginning of time. The great
-unquiet shield of the sea stretched afar to
-pale horizons, the sun shone as he might
-shine on a pretty village at high noon, the gulls
-followed alert and clamorous. Yet a thundering
-instant was capable of transforming this
-apparent calm into the most formidable
-insecurity. In four minutes you would have
-nothing left of your ship and its company but
-a few boats, some bodies, and a miscellaneous
-litter of wreckage strewn about the scene of
-the disaster. Of the assassin there was not a sign.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-All agreed that the torpedo arrived at a
-fearful speed. "Like a long white bullet
-through the water," said one survivor.
-"Honest to God, I never saw anything come so
-fast," said another.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Where did it strike?" I asked the first
-speaker, a fine intelligent English seaman
-who had been rescued by a destroyer and
-brought to an American base.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"In a line with the funnel, sir. A great
-column of steam and water went up together,
-and the pieces of the two port boats fell all
-around the bridge. I think it was a bit of
-one of the boats that struck me here." He
-held up a bandaged hand.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What happened then?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"All the lights went out. It was just dusk,
-you see, so we had to abandon the boat in
-the darkness. A broken steam pipe was
-roaring so that you couldn't hear a word
-any one was saying. She sank very fast."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Did you see any sign of the submarine?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The captain's steward thought he saw
-something come up just about three hundred
-yards away as we were going down. But
-in my judgment, it was too dark to see
-anything distinctly, and my notion is that he
-saw a bit of wreckage, perhaps a hatch."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The next man to whom I talked was a
-chunky little stoker who might have stepped
-out of the pages of one of Jacobs' stories. I
-shall not aim to reproduce his dialect&mdash;it
-was of the "wot abaht it" order.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"We were heading into Falmouth with a
-cargo of steel and barbed wire. I had a lot
-of special supplies which I bought myself in
-New York, some sugar, two very nice 'ams
-and one of those round Dutch cheeses. I
-was always thinking to myself how glad my
-old woman would be to see all those vittles.
-Just as we got off the Scillies, one of those
-bloody swine hit us with a torpedo between
-the boiler room and the thwart ship bunker,
-forward of the engine room, and about sixteen
-feet below the water line. Understand?
-I was in the boiler room. Down came the
-bunker doors, off went the tank tops in the
-engine room, two of the boilers threw out
-a mess of burning coal, and the water came
-pouring in like a flood. Let me tell you that
-cold sea water soon got bloody hot, the room
-was filled with steam, couldn't see anything.
-I expected the boilers to blow up any minute.
-I yelled out for my mates. Suddenly I heard
-one of 'em say: 'Where's the ladder?' and
-there was pore Jem with his face and chest
-burned cruel by the flying coal, and he had
-two ribs broke too, though we didn't know
-it at the time. Says 'e, 'Where's Ed?' and
-just then Ed came wading through the
-scalding water, pawing for the ladder. So
-up we all went, never expecting to reach the
-top. Then when we got into a boat, we 'eard
-that the wireless had been carried away,
-and that we'd have to wait for somebody to
-pick us up. So we waited for two days and
-a Yankee destroyer found us. Yes, both
-my mates are getting better, though sister
-'ere tells me that pore Ed may lose his eye."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Sometimes the torpedo was seen and avoided
-by a quick turn of the wheel. There were other
-occasions when the torpedo seems to follow
-a ship. I remember reading this tale. "At
-2.14 I saw the torpedo and felt certain that
-it would mean a hit either in the engine or
-the fire room, so I ordered full speed ahead,
-and put the rudder over hard left. At a
-distance of between two and three hundred
-yards, the torpedo took a sheer to the left,
-but righted itself. For an instant it appeared
-as if the torpedo might pass astern, but
-porpoising again, it turned toward the ship and
-struck us close by the propellers."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-So much for blind chances. One hears
-curious tales. The column of water caused
-by the explosion tossed onto the forward hatch
-of one merchant ship a twisted half of the
-torpedo; there was a French boat struck by a
-torpedo which did not explode, but lay there
-at the side violently churning, and clinging
-to the boat as if it were possessed of some
-sinister intelligence. I heard of a boat laden
-with high explosives within whose hold a
-number of motor trucks had been arranged. A
-torpedo got her at the mouth of the channel.
-An explosion similar to the one at Halifax
-raked the sea, the vessel, blown into fragments,
-disappeared from sight in the twinkling
-of an eye, and an instant later there fell
-like bolides from the startled firmament a
-number of immense motor trucks, one of
-which actually crashed on to the deck of
-another vessel!
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Meanwhile, I suppose, some hundred and
-fifty feet or more below, "Fritz," seated at
-a neat folding table, wrote it all down in
-his log.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap10"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-X
-<br /><br />
-THE END OF A SUBMARINE
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-Two days before, in a spot somewhat
-south of the area we were going out
-to patrol, a submarine had attacked
-a convoy and sunk a horse boat. I had the
-story of the affair months afterwards from an
-American sailor who had seen it all from a
-nearby ship. This sailor, no other than my
-friend Giles, had been stationed in the
-lookout when he heard a thundering pound,
-and looking to port, he saw a column of
-water hanging just amidships of the
-torpedoed vessel, a column that broke crashing
-over the decks. In about three minutes the
-ship broke in two, the bow and the stern
-rising like the points of a shallow V, and
-in five minutes she sank. The sea was strewn
-with straw; there were broken stanchions
-floating in the confused water, and a number of
-horses could be seen swimming about. "All
-you could see was their heads; they looked
-awful small in all that water. Some of the
-horses had men hanging to them. There
-was a lot of yelling for help." The other
-ships of the convoy had run for dear life;
-the destroyers had raced about like hornets
-whose nest is disturbed, but the submarine
-escaped.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We left a certain harbour at about three
-in the afternoon. Many of the destroyers
-were out at sea taking in a big troop convoy
-and the harbour seemed unusually still. The
-town also partook of this quiet, the long lateral
-lines of climbing houses staring out blankly
-at us like unresponsive acquaintances. Very
-few folk were to be seen on the street. We
-were bound forth on an adventure that was
-drama itself, a drama which even then the
-Fates, unknown to us, were swiftly weaving
-into a tragedy of vengeance, yet I shall
-never forget how casual and undramatic the
-Esplanade appeared. A loafer or two lounged
-by the door of the public house, a little group
-of sailors passed, a jaunting car went swiftly
-on its way to the station; there was nothing
-to suggest that these isles were beleaguered;
-nothing told of the remorseless enemy at the
-gates of the sea.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-All night long under a gloomy, starless sky
-we patrolled waters dark as the very waves
-of the Styx. The hope that nourished us was
-the thought of finding a submarine on the
-surface, but we heard no noise through the
-mysterious dark, and a long, interminable
-dawn revealed to us nothing but the high
-crumbling cliffs of a lonely and ill-reputed
-bay. Where were <i>they</i> then, I have often
-wondered? When had they their last look
-at the sun? Had they any consciousness
-of the end which time was bringing to them
-with a giant's hurrying step? At about six
-o'clock we swung off to the southward, and
-in a short time the coast had faded from sight.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-From six o'clock to about half past ten we
-swept in great circles and lines the mist
-encircled disk of the pale sea which had been
-entrusted to our keeping. We were at hand
-to answer any appeal for aid which might
-flutter through the air, to investigate any
-suspicious wreckage; above all, to fulfill our
-function of destruction. I have spoken
-elsewhere of the terror which lurks in the word
-<i>destroyer</i>. We were hunters; beaters of the
-ambush of the sea. About us lay the besieged
-waters, yellow green in colour, vexed with
-tide rips and mottled with shadows of haze
-and appearances of shoal.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We were on the bridge. Suddenly a voice
-called down the tube from the lookout on
-the mast:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Smoke on the horizon just off the port bow, sir."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-In a little while a vague smudginess made
-itself seen along the humid southeast, and
-some fifteen minutes later there emerged
-from this smudge the advance vessels of a
-convoy. Now one by one, now in twos and
-threes, the vessels of the convoy climbed
-over the dim edge of the world, a handful of
-destroyers accompanying the fleet. Almost
-every ship was camouflaged, though the largest
-of all, a great ocean drudge of a cargo boat,
-still preserved her decency of dull grey.
-A southeast wind blowing from behind the
-convoy sent the smoke of the funnels over
-the bows and down the western sky. There
-was something indescribably furtive about
-the whole business. The ships were going
-at their very fastest, but to us they seemed
-to be going very slowly, to be drifting almost,
-across the southern sky. "We advanced,"
-as our report read later, "to take up a position
-with the convoy." The watch, always keen
-on the 660, redoubled its vigilance. The bait
-was there; the hunt was on. Now, if ever,
-was the time for submarines. I remember
-somebody saying, "We may see a sub." The
-destroyer advanced to within three miles
-of the convoy, which was then across her bow.
-The morning was sunny and clear; the sun
-high in the north.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Periscope! Port bow," suddenly cried
-the surgeon of the ship, then on watch on the
-bridge. "About three hundred yards away,
-near that sort of a barrel thing over there.
-See it? It's gone now."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Powerful glasses swept the suspected area.
-The captain, cool as ice, took his stand by
-the wheel.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"There it is again, sir. About seventy-five
-yards nearer this way."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-This time it was seen by all who stood by.
-The periscope was extraordinarily small,
-hardly larger than a stout hoe handle, and not
-more than two feet above the choppy sea.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Full speed ahead," said the captain.
-"Sound general quarters."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I do not think there was a heart there that
-was not beating high, but outwardly things
-went on just as calmly as they had before
-the periscope had been sighted.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The fans of the extra boilers began to roar.
-The general quarters alarm, a continuous
-ringing, sounded its shrill call. Men tumbled
-to their stations from every corner of the ship,
-some going to the torpedo tubes, some to
-the guns, others to the depth charges at the
-stern. The wake of the destroyer, now
-tearing along at full speed, resembled a mill
-race. And now the destroyer began a beautiful
-manoeuvre. She became the killer, the
-avenger of blood. Leaving her direct course,
-she turned hard over to port, and at the point
-where her curve cut the estimated course of
-the German, she tossed over a buoy to mark
-the spot at which the German had been seen
-and released a depth bomb. The iron can
-rolled out of its chocks, and fell with a little
-splash into the foaming wake. The buoy,
-a mere wooden platform with a bit of rag,
-tied to an upright stick wobbled sillily behind.
-For about four seconds nothing happened.
-Then the seas behind us gave a curious,
-convulsive lift, one might have thought that
-the ocean had drawn a spasmodic breath;
-over this lifted water fled a frightful glassy
-tremor, and an instant later there broke forth
-with a thundering pound a huge turbid
-geyser which subsided, splashing noisily into
-streaks and eddies of foam and purplish dust.
-The destroyer then dropped three more in
-a circle round the first&mdash;a swift cycle of
-thundering crashes. Meanwhile the convoy,
-warned by our signal and by the uproar
-turned tail and fled from the spot. Great
-streamers of heavy black smoke poured from
-the many funnels, revealing the search for
-speed. In the area we had bombed, a number
-of dead fish began to be seen floating in the
-scum. By this time some of the vessels from
-the escort of the convoy had rushed to our
-assistance, and round and round the buoy
-they tore, dropping charge after charge.
-The ocean now became literally speckled with
-dead whiting, and I saw something that
-looked like an enormous eel floating belly
-upwards.
-</p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-082"></a>
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-082.jpg" alt="The last of a German U-boat. The depth bomb that destroyed her was dropped by the destroyer shown in a corner of the picture" />
-<br />
-The last of a German U-boat. <br />
-The depth bomb that destroyed her was dropped by the <br />
-destroyer shown in a corner of the picture<br />
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The convoy disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
-Little by little the excitement died away.
-Finally the only vessel left in sight on the
-broad shield of the sea was another American
-destroyer, our partner on patrol. The 305
-was fitted with listening devices, and she
-agreed to remain behind to keep an eye and
-ear open. We were to have a word from her
-every half hour.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-From twelve noon to two o'clock there were
-no tidings of importance. At 2:20, however,
-this laconic message sent us hurrying back to
-the scene of the morning's combat.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Signs of oil coming to surface."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-What had happened in the darkness below
-those yellow green waves? I am of the
-opinion that our first bomb, dropped directly
-upon her, crushed the submarine in like an
-egg-shell, that she had then sunk to the
-bottom, and developed a slow leak.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The 660 returned through a choppy sea
-to the battleground of the morning. We
-caught sight of the other destroyer from afar.
-She lay on the flank of a great area defiled
-by the bodies of fish, purple T.N.T. dust
-and various bits of muddy wreckage which
-the explosions had shaken free from the ooze.
-Gulls, already attracted to the spot, were
-circling about, uttering hoarse cries. In the
-heart of this disturbed area lay a great still
-pool of shining water and into this pool,
-from somewhere in the depths, huge bubbles
-of molasses-brown oil were rising. Reaching
-the surface, these bubbles spread into filmy
-pan cakes round whose edges little waves
-curled and broke.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap11"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XI
-<br /><br />
-"FISHING"
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-A young executive officer who had
-discovered that I came from his part
-of the world, took me there for tea. I
-fancy that few of the destroyer folk will
-forget the principal hotel at the Navy's Irish
-base. We sat in worn plush chairs in a vast
-rectangular salon lit by three giant sash
-windows of horrible proportions. Walls newly
-decked with paper of a lustrous, fiery red
-showered down upon us their imaginary
-warmth. The room was cold, horribly cold,
-and a minuscule fire of coke burning in a tiny
-grate seemed to be making no effort whatsoever
-to improve conditions. The little
-glow of fire in the nest of clinkers leered
-with a dull malevolence. Cold&mdash;a shivery
-cold. My eye fled to the pictures on the fiery
-wall. How in the d&mdash;&mdash;l did these particular
-pictures ever land in this particular corner
-of south Ireland? Two were photographic
-studies of ragged Alabama darkies, pictures
-of the kind that used to be printed on calendars
-in the eighteen nineties. One was entitled
-"I want you, ma honey" (this being addressed
-to a watermelon), the other being called
-"I'se just tired of school." These two were
-varied by an engraving of a race horse, some
-Charles I cavaliers, and a framed newspaper
-photograph of the 71st New York Guards en
-route for Tampa in 1898!
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Sugar excepted, there is still plenty of good
-food in Ireland. The Exec. and I sat down
-to a very decent tea. I told all that I knew
-about the Exec.'s friends, that A was in a
-machine gun company; B in the naval aviation;
-C in the intelligence department and
-so forth. And when I had done my share
-of the talking, I demanded of the Exec, what
-he thought of his work "over there."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-He answered abruptly, as if he had long
-before settled the question in his own mind:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's a game. Some of the sporting fishermen
-in the flotilla say that it's much like
-fishing ... now you use this bait, now that,
-now this rod, now another, and all the time
-you are following ... following the fish....
-It's a game, the biggest game in all the
-world, for it has the biggest stakes in all the
-world. There's far more strategy to it than
-one would suspect. You see, it's not enough
-to hang round till a periscope pops up;
-we've got to fish out the periscope."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Fishing, then," said I. "Well, how and
-where do you fish?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"On the chequer board of the Irish Sea
-and the Channel. You see the surface of
-the endangered waters is divided up into a
-number of squares or areas, and over each
-area some kind of a patrol boat stands guard.
-She may be a destroyer, ... perhaps a
-'sloop.' Now let's suppose she's out there
-looking for 'fish.'"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Yes, even as a fisherman might wade
-out into a river in which he knows that fish
-are to be caught. But how is your destroyer
-fisherman to know just what fish are to be
-caught, and in just what bays and inlets he
-ought to troll?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"That's the function of the Naval
-Intelligence. Have you realized the immense
-organization which Britain has created
-especially to fight the submarine? You'll
-find it all in the war cabinet report for
-1917. Before the war, there were only
-twenty vessels employed as mine sweepers
-and on auxiliary patrol duties; to-day
-the number of such craft is about 3,800,
-and is constantly increasing. And don't
-forget the sea planes, balloons, and all the
-other parts of the outfit. So while our destroyer
-fisherman is casting about in square x, let
-us say, all these scouting friends of his are
-trying to find the 'fish' for him. So every
-once in a while he gets a message via wireless,
-'fish seen off bay blank,' 'fish reported in
-latitude A and longitude B.' ... If these
-messages refer to spots in his neighbourhood,
-you can be sure that he keeps an extra sharp
-lookout. So no matter where the fish goes,
-there is certain to be a fisher." <i>During a
-recent month the mileage steamed by the
-auxiliary patrol forces in British home waters
-exceeded six million miles</i>.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Now while you are beating the waters for
-them, what about the fish himself?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The fish himself? Well, the ocean is
-a pretty big place, and the fish has the
-tremendous advantage of being invisible. A
-submarine need only show <i>three inches</i> of periscope
-if the weather is calm. She can travel a
-hundred miles completely submerged, and
-she can remain on the bottom for a full
-forty-eight hours. Squatting on the bottom is
-called "lying doggo." But she has to come up
-to breathe and recharge her batteries, and this
-she does at night. Hence the keenness of the
-night patrol. And here is another parallel
-to fishing. You know that when the wind is
-from a certain direction, you will find the
-fish in a certain pool, whilst if the wind blows
-from another quarter, you will find the fish
-in another place? Same way with submarines.
-Let the wind blow from a certain direction,
-and they will run up and down the surface
-off a certain lee shore. You can just bet that
-that strip of shore is well patrolled.
-Moreover, submarines can't go fooling round all
-over the sea, they <i>have</i> to concentrate in
-certain squares, say the areas which lie
-outside big ports or through which a great
-marine highway lies."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Suppose that you manage to injure a
-fish, what then?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well, if the fish isn't too badly injured,
-he will probably make for one of the shallows,
-and lie doggo till he has time to effect repairs.
-Result, every shallow is watched as carefully
-as a miser watches his gold. And sea planes
-have a special patrol of the coast to keep
-them off the shallows by the shore."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Sometimes, then, in the murk of night, a
-destroyer must bump into one by sheer good
-luck?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Oh, yes, indeed. Not long ago, a British
-destroyer racing through a pitch dark rainy
-night cut a sub almost in half. There was
-a tremendous bump that knocked the people
-on the bridge over backward, a lot of yelling,
-and then a wild salvo of rain blotted everything
-out. I think they managed to rescue
-one of the Germans. Pity they didn't get the
-fish itself. You know it's a great stunt to
-get your enemy's codes. We get them once
-in a while. Ever seen a pink booklet on
-any of your destroyer trips? It's a translation
-of a German book of instructions to
-submarine commanders. On British boats they
-call it 'Baby-Killing at a Glance or the Hun's
-Vade Mecum.' Great name, isn't it? Tells
-how to attack convoys and all that sort of
-thing. Lots of interesting tricks like squatting
-in the path of the sun so that the lookout,
-blinded by the glare, shan't see you; playing
-dead and so on. That playing-dead stunt,
-if it ever did work, which I greatly doubt,
-is certainly no favourite now."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Playing dead? Just what do you mean?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Why, a destroyer would chase a sub into
-the shallows and bomb her. Then 'Fritz'
-would release a tremendous mess of oil to
-make believe that he was terribly injured,
-and lie doggo for hours and hours. The
-destroyer, of course, seeing the oil, and hearing
-nothing from 'Fritz' was expected to conclude
-that 'Fritz' had landed in Valhalla, and go
-away. Then when she had gone away, 'Fritz,'
-quite uninjured, went back to his job."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"And now that stunt is out of fashion?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You bet it is. Our instructions are to bomb
-until we get tangible results. Before it
-announces the end of a sub, the Admiralty has
-to have unmistakable evidence of the sub's
-destruction. Not long ago, they say a sub
-played dead somewhere off the Channel,
-sent up oil, and waited for the fishers to go.
-In a few seconds, 'Fritz' got a depth bomb
-right on his ear, and up he came to the top, the
-most surprised and angry Hun that ever was
-seen. Bagged him, boat and all. He must
-have had a head of solid ivory.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Got to be cruising along, now. It's four
-o'clock, and our tender must be waiting for
-me at the pier."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Going fishing?" I asked politely.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You bet!" he answered with a grin.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap12"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XII
-<br /><br />
-AMUSEMENTS
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-On every vessel in the Navy there
-is a phonograph, and on some
-destroyers there are two phonographs, one
-for the officers, and one for the men. The
-motion of the destroyer rarely permits the
-use of the machine at sea, but when the vessel
-lies quietly at her mooring buoy, you are
-likely to hear a battered old opera record
-sounding through the port holes of the ward
-room, and "When the midnight choo choo
-leaves for Alabam'" rising raucously out
-of the crew's quarters. When music fails,
-there are always plenty of magazines, thanks
-to good souls who read Mr. Burleson's offer
-and affix the harmless, necessary two cent
-stamps. Each batch is full of splendid
-novelettes. We gloat over the esoteric mysteries
-of the "American Buddhist," and wonder
-who sent it, we read the "Osteopath's
-Quarterly," the "Western Hog Breeder," and
-"Needlework." Petty officers with agricultural
-ambitions, and there are always a few
-on every boat, descend on the agricultural
-journals like wolves on the fold.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-No notice of Queenstown, no history of
-the Navy would be complete without a word
-about golf. It is <i>the</i> Navy game. Golf
-clubs are to be found in every cabin; in the
-tiny libraries Harry Vardon rubs shoulders
-with naval historians and professors of
-thermodynamics. If you take the train, you are
-sure to find a carriage full of golfers bound for
-a course on the home side of the river. I
-remember seeing the captain of an American
-submarine just about to start upon the most
-dangerous kind of an errand one could
-possibly imagine. It was midnight; it was
-raining, the great Atlantic surges were sweeping
-into the bay in a manner which told of rough
-weather outside. Just as he was about to
-disappear into the clamorous bowels of his
-craft, the captain paused for an instant on
-the ladder, and shouted back to us, "Tell
-Sanderson to put that mashie in my room
-when he's through with it."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Were it not for the great "United States
-Naval Men's Club," I fear that Jack ashore
-would have had but a dull time, for our
-amusements were limited to a dingy cinema
-exploiting American "serials" several years
-old, and a shed in which a company of odd
-people played pretentious melodramas of the
-"Worst Woman in London" type on a tiny
-Sunday school stage. Alas, there were not
-enough people in the company to complete
-the cast of characters, so the poor leading
-lady was forever disappearing into the wings
-as the wronged daughter of a ducal house,
-only to appear again in a few minutes as the
-dark female poisoner, whilst the little leading
-man with a Kerry Brogue was forever rushing
-back and forth between the old white-haired
-servitor and the Earl of Darnleycourt. Once
-in a while Jack came to these performances,
-bought the best seat, and left the theatre
-before the performance was ended. The British
-Tars, however, sat through it respectably and
-solemnly to the end.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The Men's Club was to be found at one end
-of the town close by the water's edge. It was
-quite the most successful and attractive thing
-of its kind I have ever visited. The largest
-building was a factory-like affair of brick
-which once housed some swimming baths,
-then became a theatre, and finally failed
-and lay down to die; the smaller buildings
-were substantial huts of the Y.M.C.A. kind
-which had been attached to the original
-structure. This institution provided some
-several thousand sailors with a canteen, an
-excellent restaurant, a theatre, a library, a
-recreation room, and, if necessary, a lodging.
-Best of all, one could go to the Club and
-actually be warm and comfortable in the
-American style, a boon not to be lightly
-regarded in these islands where people all winter
-long huddle in freezing rooms round lilliputian
-grates. Enlisted men controlled the club,
-maintained it, and selected their stewards,
-cooks and attendants from their own ranks.
-Upon everybody concerned, the Club reflects
-the highest credit.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There were "movies" every night, and on
-Saturday night a special concert by the
-"talent" in the flotilla. The opening number
-was always a selection by the Club Orchestra,
-perhaps a march of Sousa's, for the Navy
-is true to its own, or perhaps Meacham's
-"American Patrol." Then came a long
-four-reel movie, "Jim the Penman," "The
-Ring of the Borgias," "Gladiola" or "Davy
-Crockett." The last terrifying flickers die
-away, the footlights become rosy; the curtain
-rises on "The Musical Gobs." We behold a
-pleasant room in which two people in civilian
-clothes sit playing a soft, crooning air on
-violins. Suddenly a knock is heard at the
-door. One of the performers rises, goes to
-the door, then returns and says to his partner:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"There's some sailors out there (great
-laughter in the audience); they say they can
-play too. Want to know if they can't come
-in and play with us."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Sure, tell 'em to come in."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Come in, boys."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-From behind the back drop, a subdued
-humming suddenly bursts and blossoms into
-"Strike up the band; here comes a sailor." Enter
-now three pleasant looking, amiably
-grinning lads playing the tune. Chairs are
-brought out for the newcomers and the "Musical
-Gobs," genuine artists all, play several
-airs. Another knock is heard and a singer,
-a petty officer with a good tenor, also begs to
-join them. The curtain goes down in a perfect
-tempest of applause. The screen descends
-once more, and all present sing together the
-popular songs whose text is shown, "Gimme a
-kiss, Mirandy," and "It's a long way to
-Berlin, but we'll get there." This feature was
-always a favourite. We then have a clog
-dancer, two more comic films and the National
-anthems. When the show is over, almost
-everybody wandered to the canteen to get
-"a bite to eat." To o'erleap the bars of the
-ration system with a real plate of ham and
-eggs, served club style, was an experience.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-So if you were aboard a destroyer that
-night, you would have heard Jack whistling
-the new tunes, and his officers discussing golf
-scores.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap13"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XIII
-<br /><br />
-STORM
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-Sooner or later, destroyer folk are sure
-to say something about <i>the</i> storm. It
-happened in December and raged for
-a full three days. Readers will have to
-imagine what it meant to destroyer sailors;
-the boat dancing, tipping and rolling crazily
-without a second's respite; no warm food
-to eat because a saucepan could not be kept
-on the stove or liquids in a saucepan; no
-rest to be had. Imagine being in the
-lookout's station in such a storm, wondering
-when the tops of the masts were going to
-crash down on one's head. It was a hard
-time. Yet two-thirds of the American flotilla
-were out in it, and <i>not a single vessel lost
-an hour from her patrol</i>. Indeed the American
-vessels were about the only patrol boats to
-stay out during the tempest.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-One day in the wardroom of the good old
-Z, some of the officers began to tell of it. The
-first narrator was the radio officer, a tall
-blond Westerner with big grey eyes, and a
-little sandy moustache.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I knew we were in for something when
-I saw the clouds racing over <i>against</i> the wind.
-Didn't you notice that, Duke? It kept up
-for quite a while, and kept getting colder
-and colder. It wasn't one of these squally
-storms, but one of these storms that starts
-with a repressed grouch, nurses it along,
-and finally decides to have it out. Whoopee!
-Some night, that first one. Everybody stayed
-on their feet. Couldn't have slept if you'd
-had the chance to. To get about, you grabbed
-the nearest thing handy, hung on for dear
-life, took a step, grabbed the next thing
-handy and so on. The old hooker did the
-darndest stunts I ever saw or felt. I came
-in to get my coat hanging in that corner, and
-the first thing I knew I was lying on the
-floor over in the other corner trying to fight
-my way to my feet again. One of the men in
-the boiler room got burned by being thrown
-against a hot surface. Did I tell you how I
-tried to lie down? Well, just as I had actually
-succeeded in getting over to this transom
-and stretching out preparatory to strapping
-myself in (you have to strap yourself tight in
-these destroyer bunks same as in an aeroplane)
-the old craft sank or swooped or did something
-more than usually funny, and left me hanging
-in the air about a foot and a half above the
-bunk. I must have looked like the subject
-of an experiment in levitation. A minute
-later either the bunk came up and caught me
-a wallop in the back, or I fell down like a ton
-of brick or we met in mid air, anyway, I
-thought my spine had been carried away.
-Then all of a sudden the library door opened
-and dumped about a hundred pounds of books
-on me.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It was really dangerous to go on deck,
-for the waves could easily have torn one
-from the life line. One of the boats did, I
-think, lose a man overboard, but by wonderful
-luck managed to fish him out again." It
-is the engineer officer speaking. He is
-somewhat older than the average destroyer officer;
-somewhere on the edge of the forties, I should
-say; of medium height, lean; and with hazel
-eyes, a thin high nose and a thin, firm mouth.
-"I was just getting through my watch, had
-my foot on the ladder, in fact, when the boat
-that we lost got smashed in. A wave about the
-size of a young mountain climbed aboard,
-hit the deck, caught the boat, and then poured
-off with the kindling wood. Then to make
-things interesting, right when it was blowing
-the hardest, the men's dog took it into his
-head to come on deck. Of course, he was
-only a three months' pup then, and didn't
-know any better. (He does now though, he
-won't stick his nose out when the weather's
-bad.) Well, he slipped his collar or something,
-and ran on deck. The water was washing
-about under the torpedo tubes like the
-breakers at Atlantic City, and the deck plates
-were buckling. Takes a destroyer to do that.
-But I keep forgetting the dog. The little
-brute backed up between two of the stacks
-and started yapping out a puppyish bark at
-the world to starboard. It was funny in a
-way to see the little brute there with his short
-hair blown backwards and his feet braced
-on the wet deck. Everybody yelled, and one
-of the men ran out hanging on to the life line,
-and not a minute too soon either, for a second
-later a big wave came thumping down on us,
-and there was Maloney, the big dark fellow
-you were talking to this morning, hanging on
-to the wire by one arm, with the fool dog
-squashed under the other, and the whole
-Irish Sea trying to wash them both overboard.
-I was afraid he'd lose his balance or have
-the handle that travels along the wire torn
-out of his grasp. But he got to shelter all
-right, the darn dog yapping steadily all the
-time. We had two, almost three days of it,
-and it never let up one bit. One of our boats
-got caught in it with only a meagre supply
-of oil, but managed to make a French port.
-I've heard that there actually wasn't enough
-oil left in her tanks to have taken her three
-miles further. Other destroyers, too, had
-boats smashed up, and one of 'em came in
-with her smokestacks bent up for all the
-world like the crooked fingers of a hand.
-Some had depth charges washed overboard.
-It certainly was the worst blow that I remember."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Here the navigator came over with a twinkle
-in his eye, and touched me on the shoulder.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Don't let him fill you with that dope,"
-said he, "that storm wasn't in it with the
-storms we have on the other side off Hatteras."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Hatteras, my neck," said the other.
-"What do you think you are, anyway&mdash;Hell-Roaring
-Jake the Storm King?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And then the talk shifted to something
-else.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap14"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XIV
-<br /><br />
-ON NIGHT PATROL
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-It was the end of the afternoon, there
-was light in the western sky and on the
-winding bay astern, but ahead, leaden,
-still, and slightly tilted up to a grey bank of
-eastern cloud, lay the forsaken and beleaguered
-sea. The destroyer, nosing slowly through the
-gap in the nets by the harbour mouth, entered
-the swept channel, increased her speed, and
-trembling to the growing vibration, hurried
-on into the dark. High, crumbling, and
-excessively romantic, the Irish coast behind
-her died away. Tragic waters lay before her.
-Whatever illusory friendliness men had read
-into the sea had vanished; the great leaden
-disk about the vessel seemed as insecure as
-a mountain road down whose length travellers
-cease from speaking for fear of avalanches.
-"A vast circular ambush." Somehow the
-beholder cannot help feeling that the waters
-should show some sign of the horrors they have
-seen. But the sea has engulfed all, memories
-as well as living men, engulfing a thousand
-wrecks as completely as time engulfs a
-thousand years.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The dark came swiftly, almost as if the
-destroyer had sailed to find it in that bank
-of eastern cloud. There was an interval of
-twilight, no dying glow, but a mere pause in
-the pale ebb of the day. The destroyer had
-begun to roll. Looking back from the bridge
-one saw the lean, inconceivably lean, steel
-deck, the joints of the plates still visible,
-the guns to each side with their attendant
-crews, a machine gun, swinging on a pivot
-like a weather vane, the gently swaying bulk
-of the suspended motor dories and life boats,
-the four great tubes of the funnels rising
-flush from the plates, and crowned with a
-tremble of vibration from the oil flames below.
-And all this lean world swung slowly from side
-to side, rocking as gently as a child's cradle,
-swayed as if by some gentle force from within.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The destroyer was out on patrol. A part
-of the threatened sea had been given to her
-to watch and ward. She was the guardian,
-... the avenger.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The supper hour arrived, men came in
-groups to the galley door, some to depart
-with steamy pannikins, there was a smell
-of good food very satisfying to children of
-earth. In the officer's wardroom when dinner
-was over, and the negro mess boys were
-silently folding the white cloth, securing the
-chairs, and tidying up, those not on watch
-settled down to a friendly talk. All the lights
-except one bulb hanging over the table in
-a pyramidal tin shade had been switched off.
-It was very quiet. Now and then one could
-hear the splash of a wave against the side, a
-footfall on the deck overhead, or the tinkle
-of the knives and forks which the steward
-was putting away in a drawer. The hanging
-light swayed with the motion of the ship,
-trailing a pool of light up and down the oaken
-table. Cigarette smoke rose in wisps and
-long, languorous oriental coils to the clean
-ceiling. A sailor or two came in for his orders.
-Hushed voices talking apart, a direction to
-do this or that, a respectful business-like "yes,
-sir," a quiet withdrawal by the only door.
-It was all very calm, it had the atmosphere
-of a cruise, yet those aboard might have been
-torpedoed any minute, struck a mine, crashed
-into a submarine fooling about too near the
-surface (this has happened) or been sunk in
-thirty seconds by some hurrying, furtive
-brute of a liner which would have ridden
-over them as easily as a snake goes over a
-branch. The talk flowed in many channels,
-on the problems of destroyers, on the
-adventures of other boats, on members of the crew
-soon to be advanced to commissioned rating,
-and under the thought under the words, could
-be discerned the one fierce purpose of these
-fighting lives; the will to strike down the
-submarine and open the lanes of the sea.
-Oh, the vigilance, the energy, the keenness of
-the American patrol! There were tales of
-U-boats hiding in suspected bays, of
-merchantmen swiftly and terribly avenged, of
-voices that cried for help in the night, of life
-boats almost awash in whose foul waters
-the dead floated swollen and horrible. The
-war of the destroyer against the submarine
-is a matter of tragic melodrama.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The wandering glow of the swaying lamp
-now was reflected from the varnished table
-to one keen young face, now to another.
-"Running a destroyer is a young man's game,"
-says the Navy. True enough. Pray do not
-imagine them, as a crew of "hell-driving
-boys." The destroyer service is the achievement
-of the man in the early thirties, of the
-officer with a young man's vigour and energy
-and the resolution of maturity. After all,
-the Navy Department is not yet trusting
-vessels worth several million dollars and
-carrying over a hundred men to eager
-youngsters who have no background of experience
-to their energy, good-will and bravery. If
-you would imagine a destroyer captain, take
-your man of thirty-two or -three, give him
-blue eyes, a keen, clear-cut face essentially
-American in its features, a sailor's tan, and
-a sprinkling of grey hair. A type to remember,
-for to the destroyer captain more than to
-any other single figure do we owe our
-opportunity of winning the war.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The evening waned, the officers who were
-to go on watch at twelve stole off to get a little
-sleep before being called. The navigator and
-the senior engineer slept on the transoms of
-the wardroom. A junior officer lingered
-beneath the solitary ever-swinging light, reading
-a magazine. A little hitch worked itself into
-the destroyer's motion, a swift upward leap, a
-little catch in mid air, a descent ending in
-a quiver. The voice of the waters grew louder,
-there were hissing splashes, watery blows,
-bubbly gurgles.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The sleeping officers had not paused to
-undress. Nobody bothers to strip on a
-destroyer. There isn't time, and a man has
-to be ready on the instant for any eventuality.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The door giving on a narrow passageway
-to the deck opened, and as it stood ajar, the
-hissing of the water alongside invaded the
-silent room. A sailor in a blue reefer, a
-big lad with big hands and simple, friendly
-face, entered quietly, walked over a transom and said:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Twelve o'clock, sir."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"All right, Simmons," said the engineer,
-sitting up and kicking off the clothes at once
-with a quick gesture. Then he swung his
-legs over the side of the bunk, pulled on a coat
-and hat and wandered out to take his trick
-at the bridge.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-He found a lovely, starlit night, a night
-rich in serenity and promised peace, a night
-for lovers, a poet's night. There was
-phosphorescence in the water, and as the destroyer
-rolled from side to side, now the guns and rails
-to port, now those to starboard stood shaped
-against the spectral trail of foam running
-river-like alongside. One could see some
-distance ahead over the haunted plain. The men
-by the guns were changing watch; black
-figures came down the lane by the funnels.
-A sailor was drawing cocoa in a white enamel
-cup from a tap off the galley wall. The
-hatchway leading to the quarters of the crew was
-open; it was dark within; the engineer
-heard the wiry creak of a bunk into which
-some one had just tumbled. The engineer
-climbed two little flights of steps to the bridge.
-It was just midnight. It was very still on
-the bridge, for all of the ten or twelve people
-standing by. All very quiet and rather
-solemn. One can't escape from the rich
-melodrama of it all. The bridge was a little,
-low-roofed space perhaps ten feet wide and eight
-feet long, it had a front wall shaped like a
-wide, outward pointing V, its sides and rear
-were open to the night. The handful of officers
-and men on watch stood at various points
-along the walls peering out into the darkness.
-Phosphorescent crests of low, breaking waves
-flecked the waters about; it was incredibly
-spectral. In the heart of the bridge burned
-its only light, a binnacle lamp burning as
-steadily as a light in the chancel of a darkened
-church, the glow cast the shadow of the
-helmsman and the bars of the wheel down upon
-the floor in radiations of light and shade like
-the stripes of a Japanese flag. The captain,
-keeping a sharp lookout over the bow, gave
-his orders now and then to the helmsman,
-a petty officer with a sober, serious face.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Suddenly there were steps on the companionway
-behind, the dark outline of some
-messenger appeared, a shadow on a background
-of shades. The sailor peered round
-for his chief and said, "Mr. Andrews sent me
-up, sir, to report hearing a depth bomb or a
-mine explode at 12.25."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Was it very loud, Williams?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Yes, sir, I should have said that it wasn't
-more than a few miles away. We all heard
-it quite distinctly down below."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Evidently some devil's work was going on
-in the heart of the darkness. The vibration
-had travelled through the water and had
-been heard, as always, in that part of the ship
-below the water line.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Williams withdrew. The destroyer rushed
-on into the romantic night.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Must have spotted something on the
-surface," said some one.... A radio operator
-appeared with a sheaf of telegrams. "Submarine
-seen in latitude x and longitude y,"
-"Derelict awash in position so and so." "Gun
-fire heard off Cape Z at half past eleven"&mdash;it
-all had to do with the channel zone to the
-south. The captain shoved the sheaf into
-a pocket of his jacket.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Suddenly, through the dark, was heard a
-hard, thundering pound.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"By jingo, there's another," said somebody.
-"Nearby, too. Wonder what's up?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Sounded more like a torpedo this time,"
-said an invisible speaker in a heavy, dogged
-voice. A stir of interest gripped the bridge;
-one could see it in the shining eyes of the
-young helmsman. Two of the sailors
-discussed the thing in whispers, fragments of
-conversation might have been overheard.&mdash;"No,
-I should have said off the port
-bow." "Isn't this about the place where the <i>Welsh
-Prince</i> got hers?" "Listen, didn't you hear
-something then?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-From somewhere in the distance came three
-long blasts, blasts of a deep roaring whistle.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Something's up, sure!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The destroyer, in obedience to an order of
-the captain, took a sharp turn to port, and
-turning, left far behind a curving, luminous
-trail upon the sea. The wind was dying
-down. Again there were steps on the way.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Distress signal, sir," said the messenger
-from the radio room, a shock-haired lad who
-spoke with the precise intonation of a Bostonian.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The captain stepped to the side of the
-binnacle, lowered the flimsy sheet into the
-glow of the lamp, and summoned his officers.
-The message read: "S.S. <i>Zemblan</i>, position
-x y z torpedoed, request immediate assistance."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-An instant later several things happened all
-at once. The "general quarters" alarm bell
-which sends every man to his station began
-to ring, full speed ahead was rung on in
-the engine room, and the destroyer's course
-was altered once more. Men began to tumble
-up out of the hatchways, figures rushed along
-the dark deck; there were voices, questions,
-names. The alarm bell rang as monotonously
-as an ordinary door bell whose switch has
-jammed. But soon one sound, the roaring
-of the giant blowers sucking in air for the
-forced draught in the boiler room, overtopped
-and crushed all other fragments of noise,
-even as an advancing wave gathers into
-itself and destroys pools and rills left along
-the beach by the tide. A roaring sound, a
-deep windy hum. Gathering speed at once,
-the destroyer leaped ahead. And even as
-violence overtook the lives and works of men,
-the calm upon the sea became ironically more
-than ever assuring and serene.
-</p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-114"></a>
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-114.jpg" alt="To enjoy their leisure between watches these officers of an American destroyer lash themselves into their seats. A destroyer travelling at high speed in a heavy sea is like a bucking broncho." />
-<br />
-To enjoy their leisure between watches these officers <br />
-of an American destroyer lash themselves into their seats. <br />
-A destroyer travelling at high speed in a heavy sea <br />
-is like a bucking broncho.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Good visibility," said somebody on the
-bridge. "She can't be more than three
-miles away now. Hello, there's a rocket."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-A faint bronzy golden trail, suddenly flowering
-into a drooping cluster of darting white
-lights gleamed for a furtive instant among
-the westering winter stars.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I saw her, sir!" cried one of the lookouts.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Where is she, O'Farrell?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Quite a bit to the left of the rocket, sir.
-She's settling by the head."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The beautiful night closed in again. O'Farrell
-and the engineer continued to peer out
-into the dark. Suddenly both of them cried
-out, using exactly the same words at exactly
-the same time, "Torpedo off the port bow, sir!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The thing had become visible in an instant.
-It could be seen as a rushing white
-streak in the dark water, and was coming
-towards the destroyer with the speed of
-an express train, coming like a bullet out of
-a gun.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The captain uttered a quick word of command.
-The wheel spun, the roaring, trembling
-ship turned in the dark. A strange thing
-happened. Just as the destroyer had cleared the
-danger line, the torpedo, as if actuated by some
-malevolent intelligence, porpoised, and actually
-turned again towards the vessel. The fate
-of the destroyer lay on the knees of the
-gods. Those on the bridge instinctively
-braced themselves for the shock. The affair
-seemed to be taking a long time, a terribly
-long time. An instant later, the contrivance
-rushed through the foaming wake of the
-destroyer only a few yards astern, and continuing
-on, disappeared in the calm and glittering
-dark. A floating red light suddenly
-appeared just ahead and at the same moment
-all caught sight of the <i>Zemblan</i>.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-She was hardly more than half a mile away.
-Somebody aboard her had evidently just
-thrown over one of those life buoys with a
-self-igniting torch attachment, and this buoy
-burned a steady orange red just off that side
-on which the vessel was listing. The dark,
-stricken, motionless bulk leaned over the little
-pool of orange radiance gleaming in a fitful
-pool; round the floating torch one could see
-vague figures working on a boat by the stern,
-and one figure walking briskly down the deck
-to join them. There was not a sign of any
-explosion, no breakage, no splintered wood.
-Some ships are stricken, and go to their death
-in flames and eddying steam, go to their
-death as a wounded soldier goes; other ships
-resemble a strong man suddenly stricken by
-some incurable and mysterious disease. The
-unhappy <i>Zemblan</i> was of this latter class.
-There were two boats on the water, splashing
-their oars with a calm regularity of the college
-crews; there were inarticulate and lonely
-cries.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Away from the light, and but vaguely seen
-against the midnight sky, lay a British patrol
-boat which had happened to be very close
-at hand. And other boats were
-signalling&mdash;"<i>Zemblan</i>&mdash;am coming." The sloop signalled
-the destroyer that she would look after the
-survivors. Cries were no longer heard. Round
-and round the ship in great sweeps went the
-destroyer, seeking a chance to be of use,&mdash;to
-avenge. Other vessels arrived, talked by
-wireless and disappeared before they had
-been but vaguely seen.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Just after two o'clock, the <i>Zemblan's</i> stem
-rose in the air, and hung suspended motionless.
-The tilted bulk might have been a rock
-thrust suddenly out of the deep towards the
-starry sky. Then suddenly, as if released
-from a pose, the stern plunged under, plunged
-as if it were the last act of the vessel's conscious
-will.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The destroyer cruised about till dawn. A
-breeze sprang up with the first glow of day,
-and scattered the little wreckage which had
-floated silly-solemnly about. Nothing
-remained to tell of an act more terrible than
-murder, more base than assassination.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap15"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XV
-<br /><br />
-CAMOUFLAGE
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-In the annals of the Navy one may read
-of many a famous duel, and if the code
-duello were in existence to-day, I feel
-certain that the present would not be less
-fiery than the past. The subject which stirs
-up all the discussion is camouflage. To ask
-at a crowded table: "What do you think of
-camouflage," is to hurl a very apple of discord
-down among your hosts. For there will be
-some who will stand by camouflage to the last
-bright drop of blood, and strive to win you to
-their mind with tales that do "amaze the very
-faculties of eyes and ears." You will hear of
-ships melting into cloud, of vessels apparently
-going full speed backward, of ships whose
-funnels have one and all been rendered
-invisible. And now the mocker is sure to ask
-the pro-camouflager in the most serious of
-tones if he ever saw the ship disguised as a
-sunset which the Germans unhappily
-discovered on a rainy day. The signal gun of
-the anti-camouflage squad now having
-sounded, the assault begins with a demand of
-"What's your theory?" The pro's reply
-something about breaking up spaces of colour,
-optical illusions&mdash;"if you draw horizontal
-lines along a boat's hull, she will appear
-longer; if you draw vertical or angular
-parallels, the vessel will appear shorter." The
-anti's answer that such an expedient
-might possibly, just possibly, deceive an idiot
-child for exactly five and one-eighths seconds,
-as for deceiving a wily Hun,&mdash;Good Night!
-"Do you mean to tell me," cries the devotee
-of camouflage, growing angry, "that a ship
-painted one flat, dead colour is less visible
-against the sea than one whose surface is
-broken up into many colours?" "Yes, that's
-what I mean," retorts the anti. "You know
-as well as I do that a thing that looks like
-Vesuvius in eruption is ten times more easily
-seen than a boat painted a dull neutral grey."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Yes," cries some one else, "but hasn't
-camouflage on land proved its utility?" "I'm
-talking about naval camouflage," answers
-the anti. "On land your camouflaged object
-is usually stationary itself, and stands in
-relation to a surface which is always
-stationary,&mdash;the surrounding landscape. Out here,
-both surfaces, sea and vessel, are constantly
-in motion and constantly changing their
-relation to each other." "But I <i>saw</i> a boat&mdash;"
-begins a pro. "Oh, cut it out," cries
-somebody else wholeheartedly, and the discussion
-ends exactly where a thousand others have
-ended.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Whether camouflage be valuable or not, it
-certainly is the fad of the hour. The good,
-old-fashioned, one-colour boat has practically
-disappeared from the seas, and the ships that
-cross the ocean in these perilous times have
-been docked to make a cubist holiday; the
-futurists are saving democracy. There are
-countless tricks. I remember seeing one boat
-with a false water line floating in a painted
-sea whose roaring waves contrasted oddly
-with a frightfully placid horizon, and I recall
-another with the silhouette of a schooner
-painted on her side. I remember a little
-tramp remorselessly striped, funnels and all
-with alternate slanting bands of apple-green
-and snuff brown; I have an indistinct memory
-of a terrible mess of milky-pink, lemon-yellow
-and rusty black, which earned for the vessel
-displaying it the odious title of "The Boil." We
-saw the prize monstrosity in midocean.
-Every school of camouflage had evidently
-had a chance at her. She was striped, she
-was blotched; she was painted in curves;
-she was slashed with jagged angles; she was
-bone grey; she was pink; she was purple;
-she was green; she was blue; she was egg
-yellow. To see her was to gasp and turn
-aside. We had quite a time picking a suitable
-name for her, but finally decided on the
-Conscientious Objector, though her full title
-was "The State of Mind of a C.O. on Being
-Sent to the Front."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Finally destiny put in my path just the man
-I wanted to see, the captain of a British
-submarine. "What do you think of camouflage?"
-I asked.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well," he answered, after a pause, "I
-can't remember that it ever hindered us from
-seeing a ship. Visibility at sea strikes me as
-being more a matter of mass than of colour.
-The optical illusion tricks are too priceless
-silly. Must amuse the Huns. You see if the
-eye does play him false, Fritz detects the
-error with his gauges."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The P.C's, I am sure, will put this down as
-a bit of typical submarine "side." Indignant
-letters, care H.M.S. X999.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap16"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XVI
-<br /><br />
-TRAGEDY
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-Just at the fall of night, three days before,
-a weak and fragmentary wireless had
-cried forlornly over the face of the waters
-for immediate help, and had then ceased
-abruptly like a lamp blown out by a gust of
-wind. The destroyers, stationed here and
-there in the vast loneliness of the gathering
-dark, had heard and waited for "the position"
-of the disaster, but nothing more came through
-the night. Presently, it had begun to rain.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And now for three interminable and tedious
-days and nights rain had been falling,
-falling with the monotony and purpose of
-water over a dam. There being little or no
-wind the drops fell straight as plummets from
-a sky flat as a vast ceiling, and the air
-reverberated with that murmuring hum which is
-the voice of the rain mingling with the sea.
-Rain greasy with oil it had gathered from the
-plates poured in little streams off the deck;
-drops hissed on the iron of the hot stacks.
-Clad in stout waterproof clothes, and wearing
-their waterproof hoods, the crew went casually
-about their duties, their hardy faces showing
-no sign of discomfort or weariness.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-It was about three o'clock in the afternoon
-of a January day.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Presently the lookout, from his station on
-the mast, reported: "Floating object off
-starboard bow," and a few minutes later one of
-the watch on the bridge reported two more
-floating masses, this time visible to port.
-The destroyer was making her way into a
-vast field of wreckage. Within the radius of
-visibility, there lay, drifting silently about in
-the incessant rain, an incredible quantity of
-barrels, boxes, bits of wood, crates, vegetables,
-apples, onions, fragments of coke, life
-preservers and planks.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"See if you can spot a name on anything,"
-said the destroyer's captain. But though
-everybody looked carefully, not a sign of a
-name could be seen. Mile after mile went
-the destroyer down the rain lashed sea,
-mile after mile of wreckage opened before
-her.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Life boat ahead showing flag!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The captain raised to his eyes the pair of
-binoculars he wore hanging from his neck,
-and peered out of the window by the wheel.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Found her yet, sir?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Yes ... it's a small grey boat. Barely
-afloat, I guess. They've got a shirt or
-something tied to a mast or an oar. We'll have a
-look at it. Tell Mullens to have a couple of
-men stand by with boat hooks in case we
-run alongside."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The swamped boat, motionless as a stone
-in the driving rain, lay no more than half a
-mile off. Voices eagerly discussed the
-possibility of finding survivors.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Alive? Course they ain't. Why, the boat's
-awash."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Sure, but look at the flag."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Those poor guys are gonners long ago."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Handled skilfully the destroyer crept alongside
-the motionless boat, and presently those
-on the bridge looked directly down upon it.
-It lay, floating on even keel, not more than
-six or seven feet off the starboard side, and was
-held up by its tanks. A red flannel shirt hung
-soggily against an upright pole, and coloured
-the shaft with the drippings of its dye. The
-interior of the boat was but a deep puddle,
-a dark puddle into which the rain fell
-monotonous and implacable. Floating face down
-and side by side in the water lay the fully
-clothed bodies of two men, whilst at the
-stern, sitting on a seat just under water,
-with his feet in the water and his body toppled
-over on the gunwale, could be seen a third
-figure dressed in a kind of seaman's jacket.
-The wet cloth of his trousers clung lightly
-to his thin legs and revealed the taut muscles
-of his thighs. Then boat hooks fished out from
-the side of the destroyer and drew the heavy
-craft in. A sailor cried out that all were
-dead.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Any name on the boat, Hardy?" asked the
-officer standing by.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"No, sir."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Very well. Cast off!" The life boat,
-watched by some rather horrified eyes, slid
-alongside the destroyers, and drifted solemnly
-behind.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Now," said the captain, who had come on
-deck, "I want one tidy shot put into that boat,
-Butler."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Ten seconds later, the roar of the four-inch
-at the stern burst asunder the murmur of
-the rain, and the watchers saw the boat of
-the dead crumple and disappear in the
-loneliness and rain.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap17"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XVII
-<br /><br />
-"CONSOLIDATION, NOT COÖPERATION"
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-Talking one day with an English
-member of the House of Commons, I
-asked him what he held to be the
-most important result of American intervention.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The spirit of coöperation which you
-have stirred up among the Allies," he answered.
-"Not that I mean to say that the Allies were
-continually quarrelling among themselves;
-the manner in which Britain has shared her
-ships with other hard pressed nations would
-refute any such insinuation, but not until
-you came on the scene was there a really
-scientific attempt at the coördination of our
-various forces. You were quite right to insist
-on a generalissimo. But of course the great
-lesson you've given us has been through your
-Navy. There's been nothing like it in
-the history of the allied forces. What an
-extraordinary position Admiral Sims has won
-in England! His influence is perfectly
-tremendous; there isn't another allied leader
-who has a tithe of his power. I really do not
-think that there is a parallel to it in English
-history."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Now this is no over-statement of the case.
-The influence of Admiral Sims over the
-British people <i>is</i> tremendous. All along he
-has had but one watchword, "Consolidation,
-not Coöperation." It is a splendid phrase,
-and Admiral Sims has turned it into action.
-The way, I gathered from various members
-of the Staff and the Embassy, had not been
-without its obstacles. For instance, once
-upon a time certain American forces were to
-be sent into a distant area, and a member of
-the Allied Naval Council sitting in London
-had taken the stand that the little force
-should be supplied from the United States.
-Immediately Admiral Sims pointed out that
-these American forces must be considered as
-<i>allied</i> forces and must be supplied from the
-nearest and most convenient <i>allied</i> sources
-of supply. And he carried the day. Not
-only has the Admiral insisted on the <i>consolidation</i>
-of material forces; but he has also
-insisted on a consolidation of the allied spirit.
-Himself a master of diplomacy and tact,
-he loses no opportunity of reminding the
-individual officers under his control to bear
-in mind the good points of other services
-and to remember the fact that the success
-of this work would be directly affected by
-their relations with their comrades of the
-Great Cause. And this extraordinary
-consolidation of force and spirit is precisely the
-thing which more than anything else takes
-the attention of the visiting correspondent.
-"Consolidation, not Coöperation"&mdash;it is a
-phrase that well might have been our allied
-motto from the first.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-While in London, I had several talks with
-Admiral Sims in his office in Grosvenor
-Gardens. Of the many distinguished men it
-has been my lot to interview, Admiral Sims
-stands first for the ability to put a guest at
-ease. Tall, spare, erect, and walking with a
-fine carriage, our Admiral is a personality
-whom the interviewer can never forget. One
-has but to talk with him a few minutes to
-realize the secret of the extraordinary personal
-loyalty he inspires. And he is as popular
-in France as he is in England. Speaking
-French fluently, he is able to carry on
-discussion with the French members of the Naval
-Council in their own language.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Consolidation, not Coöperation." There's
-a real phrase. And thanks to the great man
-who said it and insisted upon it, we defeated
-the common enemy.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap18"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XVIII
-<br /><br />
-MACHINE AGAINST MACHINE
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-The year stood at the threshold of
-the spring; a promise of warmth
-lay in the climbing sun; on land one
-might have heard the first songs of the birds.
-At sea, the mists of winter were lifting from
-the waters, and the sun, for many months
-shrunk and silver pale, shone hard and
-golden bright. A fresh, clear wind was
-blowing from the west, driving ahead of it a
-multitude of low foam-streaked waves. There was
-not a sign of life to be seen anywhere on the
-vast disk of the sea, not a trail, not a smudge
-of smoke on the horizon's circle, not even a
-solitary gull or diver. The destroyer, dwarfed
-by her world, ran up and down the square she
-had been chosen to guard. She had the air
-of performing a casual evolution. There was
-never anything to be found in this particular
-square. It lay beyond the great highways;
-even the sight of a coaster was there something
-of a rarity. Periscopes were never reported
-from that area, never had been reported,
-and probably never would be. Caressed by
-the sun, enveloped in the serenity of the day
-as in a mantle, the destroyer went back and
-forth on her patrol.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The emergence of the periscope a quarter
-of a mile ahead off the starboard bow had
-in it something so unattended that the incident
-had a character of abnormality ... much as
-if a familiar hill should suddenly turn into a
-volcano. It is greatly to the honour of
-the ship's discipline, that those aboard were
-not staled by months of unfruitful vigil,
-and acted as swiftly as if the destruction of
-a submarine were matter of daily practice.
-There it lay, going steadily along about two
-hundred yards away, ... a simple, most
-unromantic black rod rising two feet or so
-above the waves. A white furrow like a kind
-of comet's tail, streamed behind it, forever
-widening at the end. Later on, they asked
-themselves what the submarine could possibly
-have been doing. Seeking a quiet place to
-come up to breathe, to effect repairs, to send
-out a hurried wireless message?
-</p>
-
-<p>
-It might have been a rendezvous between
-the two vessels. One felt that the gods had
-brought to pass there no careless drama, but
-a tragedy long meditated and skillfully
-prepared. The morning sun watched, a casual
-spectator, the duel between the two engines
-of violence.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There had been a command, a call of the
-summoning bell, a release of power carefully
-stored for just such an event, and the destroyer
-leaped ahead like a runner from the starting
-line. The periscope, meanwhile, continued to
-plough its way straight ahead almost into the
-teeth of the wind and the flattened, marbly
-waves. Presently, either because the destroyer
-had been seen or heard on the submarine
-telephone, the submarine began to submerge,
-sucking in a kind of a foaming hollow as she
-sank. Aboard the destroyer, they wondered
-if the keel would clear her, and waited for
-the shock, the rasping grind. But nothing
-happened. The first depth bomb fell into
-the heart of the submarine's swirl even as
-a well placed stone falls in the heart of a
-pool. Trembling to the roar of her fans,
-the destroyer fled across the spot, and turned.
-The wake of her passing had almost
-obliterated the platter-shaped swirl the
-submarine had left behind; one had a vision of
-the great steel cylinder tumbling, bubbling
-down through green water to dark, harmless
-as a spool of thread on the surface, but
-presently to be changed by the wisdom and
-cunning of men into monstrous and chaotic
-strength. One, two, three, four, five ... a
-thundering pound.... The submarine rose
-behind them, her bow on the crest of the
-geyser, an immense, tapering rusty mass, wet and
-shining in the placid glance of the day. From
-a kind of hole some distance up the side, a
-stream of oil ran much like blood from a small
-deep wound.... A gun spoke, and spoke
-again, a careening whizz, ... ugly hollow
-crashes of tearing steel ... the sub heeled
-far over on her starboard side ... those
-nearest heard, or thought they heard,
-screaming ... the bow sank, tilting up the great
-planes and propellers. A monstrous bubble
-or two broke on the tormented surface just
-before she disappeared ... and with her
-going, the calm of the spring morning, which
-had been frightened away like a singing bird,
-returned once more to the tragic and mysterious sea.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap19"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XIX
-<br /><br />
-THE LEGEND OF KELLEY
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-Kelley, not Von Biberstein or Hans
-Bratwurst, is his name, Kelley spelled
-with an "e." The first destroyer officer
-whom you question will very possibly have
-never heard of him, the second will have
-heard the legend, the third will tell you of a
-radio officer, a friend of his, who received one
-of Kelley's messages. So day by day the
-legend grows apace. Kelley is the captain of
-a German submarine.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The first time that I heard about him he
-figured as a young Irishman of good family
-who had attached himself to the German
-cause in order to settle old scores. "Lots of
-people know him in the west of Ireland; he
-goes ashore there any time he cares
-to." Another version, perhaps the true one, if
-there be any truth at all in this fantastic
-business, is that Kelley is no Irishman but a
-cosmopolitan, jesting German with a Celtic
-camouflage. No less a person than Captain
-James Norman Hall testifies that the Germans
-in the trenches often tried to anger the
-British troops by pretending they were
-disloyal Irish. So perhaps Kelley is Von
-Biberstein after all. A third version has it that
-Kelley is a Californian of Irish origin. Those
-who hold to this last view have it that Kelley
-spares all American ships but sends the Union
-Jack to the bottom without mercy.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Many and varied are Kelley's activities.
-He has penchant for sending messages. "I
-am in latitude x and longitude y; come and
-get me&mdash;Kelley," has come at the dead
-of night into the ears of many an astounded
-radio operator. Others declare that these
-messages were sent by Hans Rose, the skipper
-of the submarine which attacked the shipping
-off Nantucket in 1916. All agree that Kelley
-was the beau ideal of pirates. He sinks a ship
-and apologizes for his action, he sees the women
-passengers into the boats with the grace and
-urbanity of a Chesterfield, he comes alongside
-a wretched huddle of survivors, supplies them
-with food, and sends out notice of their
-position. When they ask his name, he replies
-"Captain Kelley," and disappears from view
-beneath the sea. He goes ashore, and proves
-his visit with theatre tickets and hotel bills.
-"London hotel bills made out to Kelley,
-Esquire." He requests the survivors as a
-slight favour to tell Captain Nameless of the
-Destroyer XYZ that his propeller shaft needs
-repairing; that he, Kelley, has been seriously
-annoyed by having to listen to the imperfect
-beat via the submarine telephone. There is
-certainly a flavour of Celt in this chivalry
-tinged with mockery.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I could never find anybody who had actually
-seen him, much to my regret, for I should have
-been glad to describe so famous a person.
-Months have passed since last I heard of him.
-Perhaps he is still in the Irish Sea; perhaps
-he is now at Harwich, perhaps he has gone
-aloft to join his kinsman "The Flying
-Dutchman." If so, let us keep his memory green,
-for he was a pirate <i>sans peur et sans reproche</i>.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap20"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XX
-<br /><br />
-SONS OF THE TRIDENT
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-Any essay on the British sailor must
-rise from a foundation of wholesome
-respect. One cannot look at the
-master of the world without philosophy.
-And British Jack is the world's master, for
-he holds in his hands that mastery of the seas
-which is the mastery of the land. He is a
-sailor of the mightiest of all navies, an inheritor
-of the world's most remarkable naval tradition,
-a true son of Britannia's ancient trident.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-What is he like, British Jack? How does
-he impress those companions who share the
-vigil of the seas?
-</p>
-
-<p>
-To begin with the Briton is, on the average,
-an older man than our bluejacket. British
-Jack has not gone into the Royal Navy "for
-the fun of it" or "to see the world," as our
-posters say, but as the serious business of
-his life. His enlistment is an eight-year
-affair, and by the time that he has completed
-it, he rarely thinks of returning to a prosaic
-life ashore. Thus it comes about that whilst
-our American sailors are usually somewhere
-in the eager, irresponsible twenties, British
-tars are often men of sober middle age. One
-is sure to see, in any of the "home ports,"
-the fleet's married men out walking on Sunday
-with their wives and children, forming
-together a number of honest, steady little
-groups whose hold on the durable satisfactions
-of life it is a pleasure to see. The "home
-ports" idea has well proved its value. It
-is simple enough in operation. Each ship,
-according to the plan, bases on some definite
-port, thus permitting poor Jack (who has
-enough of roaming at sea) to have a steady
-home on land. In all the great British bases,
-therefore, you will find these sailor colonies.
-I was well acquainted with a retired Navy
-chaplain who ministered to such a group.
-These families form a distinct group dependent
-on the Navy. Marriages are performed by
-the naval chaplain, the ills of the flesh are
-looked after by the fleet surgeons, and the
-rare troubles are brought to the judgment of
-Jack's favourite officers.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Our American crews are gathered together
-from all over the vast continent, British crews
-are often recruited from one section of the
-country. For instance, a ship manned by a
-crew from "out o' Devon" is known as a "West
-Country" ship and its sailors as "Westos." A
-real Royal Navy man knows in an instant
-the character of any ship which he happens
-to visit. The drawled "oa's" and oe's" of
-the West tell the story. I once heard a
-"Westo" refer to an officious wharf tender as
-a "bloody to-ad," a phrase that certainly has
-character. Then there be ships based on
-Irish ports. Indeed, there are sure to be Irish
-sailors on every ship, irresponsible,
-keen-witted Celts to whom all devilment is
-entrusted.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The war has not been without influence
-on the naval personnel. British Jack had,
-in his own social system, a place of his own.
-He is not looked down upon, for the British
-bluejacket has been, is, and forever ought
-to be the best loved of national figures. Sons
-of "gentlemen," however, I use the word
-here in its British sense, did not join the Royal
-Navy as enlisted men. Such a thing would
-have been regarded as "queer" (no mild
-word, in Britain), and the crew certainly
-would have looked upon any such arrival as
-an intruder. But just as the war has placed
-University men side by side in the ranks with
-troopers like Kipling's Ortheris, so has it
-placed among the enlisted personnel of the
-Royal Navy a large number of men from the
-educated and wealthier class. There hung in
-the Royal Academy this spring a portrait
-of a British bluejacket, a pleasant-looking
-lad some nineteen or twenty years of age
-with blond hair, a long face and honest eyes
-of English grey. It was entitled "My Son." Almost
-invariably the older visitors to the
-exhibition, when looking at this picture,
-would fall to talking of the change in the
-social system which the portrait symbolized.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There are always a number of boys on British
-ships, for the British hold that to be a good
-sailor, one should early become familiar with
-the sea. The status of "boy" is a kind of
-distinct rating, and these youngsters are
-addressed by their last names, viz., Boy
-Bumblechook or Boy Stiggins. They have
-shown up wonderfully well. One has but to
-recall little Cornell of Jutland to see of what
-stuff these lads are made.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The British sailor's uniform is picturesque
-and characteristic, but certainly less attractive
-than ours. It is cut not of broadcloth or of
-serge, but of heavy blue worsted, and a detachable
-collar of blue linen falls back upon the
-blouse. Our sailors are forever washing the
-blouses to keep the white stripes of the
-collar clean; the Briton has only his collar
-to care for. And there is a difference between
-the national builds as marked as the difference
-twixt the uniforms. Our Jack is rangy, lean
-and quick-moving, the Briton heavier, shorter,
-and more deliberate. In hours of leisure,
-the Briton busies himself with knitting,
-wood-carving or weaving rag rugs; the American,
-driven by the mechanical genius of the nation,
-hurries to the ship's machine shop to pound
-a half-crown into a ring.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The sons of Columbia and the sons of
-Britannia get on very well together. At the
-big club house at the Irish base, there are
-always little groups of British sailors to be
-seen, quiet, well-behaved fellows who watch
-everything with British dignity. Our
-bluejackets, however, are far more chummy
-with British soldiers than with Britons of
-their own calling. Navy blue and khaki
-are forever going down the street arm in arm.
-The tar is always keen to hear of the front.
-Tommy does the talking. After all, there is
-a difference in the vernacular. Witness this
-poem which I reprint from the August number
-of <i>Our Navy</i>. It is by a Navy man,
-Mr. R. P. Maulsley. The word Limey, here
-shortened to "Lima," means, used as a noun,
-a British sailorman; used as an adjective,
-British. The term had its origin in the ancient
-British custom of giving lime juice to ward
-off scurvy.
-</p>
-
-<p class="t3">
-THE LIMA AND THE YANKS
-</p>
-
-<p class="t3">
-By R. P. Maulsley
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- It was nice and cozy in the "Pub,"<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And blowing cold outside.<br />
- By the fireplace sat two gobbies,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;America's joy and pride.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- When a Lima from a cruiser<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thought their talk he'd like to hear,<br />
- And sat down just behind them,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With a half o' pint of beer.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- And o'er a flowing mug of ale,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That held about a quart,<br />
- He heard them swapping stories<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;About their stay in port.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- "Say, this is sure some burg,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Tho' it ain't the U.S.A.,<br />
- But did you pipe the classy Jane,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That passed us on the quay?<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- "She gave me some sweet smile, bo,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And winked her pretty eye,"<br />
- "Get out, you big hay-maker,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was for me she meant to sigh."<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- "G'wan you homely piece of cheese,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;You're talkin' thru' your hat,<br />
- I'll betsha just ten plasters,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was me she was smiling at."<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- "I'll take that up old-timer,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Why, that's some easy dough,<br />
- We'll have another round,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And then we'll have to blow.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- "And if I lamp that broad, kid,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And she cottons to me quick,<br />
- I'll buy her everything in town,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And make that ten look sick."<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- They arose and left the Lima,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A gasping in some chairs,<br />
- And as they left the room,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He heard them on the stairs.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- "Like candy from a baby,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I'll take your coin this day,<br />
- And have a high old time and&mdash;<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Say, how did you get that way?"<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- The Lima emptied his tankard,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And caught the barmaid's eye,<br />
- "I 'eard them Yanks a tarkin',<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But what the bloomin' ell'd they seye?"<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap21"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXI
-<br /><br />
-THE FLEET
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-The fleet lay in the Firth of Forth.
-It was one o'clock in the afternoon,
-and the little suburban train which
-leaves and pauses at the Edinburgh Grand
-Fleet pier had not yet been brought to its
-platform. The cold sunlight of a northern
-spring fell upon the vast, empty station,
-and burnished the lines of rail beyond the
-entrance arch. Two porters from the adjoining
-hotel, wearing coats of orange-red with
-dull brass buttons, stood lackadaisically by
-a booking office closed for the dinner hour.
-Presently, after a piercing shriek intensified
-by the surrounding quiet, the suburban
-train backed in with a smooth, crawling noise.
-Various folk began to appear on the platform,
-a group of young British naval officers, a
-handful of older sailors, a captain carrying a
-small leather affair much like a miniature
-suit-case, a number of civilians, two "Jacks"
-evidently on furlough, and a young sailor
-lad with a fine bull terrier bitch on a leash.
-No one entered to share my compartment.
-The train left behind the clean, grim town
-... rolled on through suburbs and through
-fields barely awake to the spring ... paused
-here and there at tidy, little stations
-... reached the station above the pier. Somewhat
-uncertain of my path to the landing, I
-followed a group of officers. A middle-aged
-soldier sentry with grey hair and ruddy cheeks
-held me up for my pass, unfolded and folded
-it again with extraordinary deliberation, and
-courteously set me on my way. As yet there
-was no sign of the sea, nor had it once been
-visible during the journey. One might have
-been on the way to play golf at an inland
-field. The path to the pier descended a great
-flight of steps and passed a space in which
-men were playing football.... A turn down
-a bit of road, and I was looking at the fleet.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-It lay in the great firth, in a monstrous
-estuary enclosed between barren banks rising to no
-great height. Bare, scattered woodlands were
-to be seen, a clump of cottages, a castellated
-house in a solitary spot, a great wharf with
-a trumpery traveller's bookstall in a wooden
-shed at its entrance, a huddle of grey roofs
-at the water's edge on the distant side. Over
-a spur of land the smoke of a giant dockyard
-rose in a hazy reek to the obscured and silvery
-sun. The water in which the squadrons
-lay was for the moment as calm as a woodland
-pool; in colour, green-grey.... An incredible
-number of ships of war lying lengthwise
-in orderly lines, bows turned to the unseen
-river of the rising tide, ... row after row,
-squadron after squadron, fleet after fleet,
-ships of war, dark, terrible and huge, no more
-to be counted than the leaves of trees. As
-far as the eye could reach up and down the
-firth, ships. One beheld there the mastery
-of the sea made visible, the mastery of all
-the highways and the secret paths of the
-waters of earth. Because of this fleet ships
-were able to bring grain from distant fields,
-great hopes were kept aflame, and the life
-blood of evil ambitions poured upon the
-ground. A grey haze lay at the mouth of
-the roads and somewhere in the heart of it
-was target practice being held, for violent
-blots of light again and again burst open
-the dim and veiling fog. Small gulls passed on
-motionless wings, whistling. Now and then
-a vessel would run up a tangle of flags. The
-signal light of a flagship suddenly uttered a
-message with intermittent flashes of an
-unnatural violet white glare.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Over earth and sea brooded the peace of
-empire.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap22"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXII
-<br /><br />
-THE AMERICAN SQUADRON
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-The morning found me a guest aboard
-the flagship of the American battleship
-squadron attached to the Grand
-Fleet. Going on deck, I found the sun
-struggling through thin, motionless mists. A
-layer of webby drops lay on wall and rail,
-on turret and gun. Presently a little cool
-wind, blowing from the land, fled over the
-calm water in mottled, scaly spots, bringing
-with it a piping beat of rhythmic music. Half
-a mile beyond the flagship, the crew of a
-British warship were running in a column
-round and round her decks to the music
-of the ship's band. An endless file of white
-clad figures bent forward, a faint regular
-tattoo of running feet. Round and about
-several of the giants were signalling in blinker.
-Beyond us stood a titanic bridge, whose
-network was here and there smouched with
-clinging vapour, and beneath this giant, a
-tanker laden with oil for the fleet passed
-solemnly, followed by wheeling gulls.
-Presently two American sailors, lads of that
-alert, eager type that is so intensely and
-honestly American, popped out of a doorway
-and began to polish bright work.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-America was there.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Surely it was one of the finest thoughts of
-the war to send this squadron of ours.
-Putting aside for the instant any thought of the
-squadron as a unit of naval strength,
-Americans and Britons will do well to consider
-it rather as a splendid symbol of a union
-dedicated to the most honourable of purposes,
-to the defence of that ideal of fraternity and
-international good faith now menaced. They
-say that when the American squadron came
-steaming into the fleet's more northern base
-one bitter winter day, cheer after cheer
-broke from the British vessels as they passed,
-till even the forlorn, snow-covered land rang
-with the shouting.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-It has recently been announced that our
-battleship squadron is under the command
-of Admiral Hugh Rodman, which announcement
-the Germans must have taken to heart,
-for Admiral Rodman is a man of action if ever
-one there was. Tall, strongly built, vigorous
-and alert, he dominates whatever group he
-happens to find himself in by sheer force of
-personality. It would fare ill with a German
-who brought his fleet under the sweep of those
-keen eyes. Admiral Rodman is a Kentuckian,
-and a union of blue grass and blue sea is
-pretty hard to beat, especially when
-accompanied by a shrewd sense of humour.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I talked with Admiral Rodman about the
-squadron and its work.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Always remember," said he, "that this
-squadron is not over here, as somebody put
-it, 'helping the British.' Nor are we 'coöperating'
-with the British fleet. Such ideas are
-erroneous, and would mislead your readers.
-Think of this great fleet which you see here
-as a unit of force, controlled by one ideal, one
-spirit and one mind, and of the American
-squadron as an integral part of that fleet.
-Take, as an instance of what I mean, the
-change in our signalling system. We came
-over here using the American system of
-signals. Well, we could not have two sets of
-signals going, so in order to get right into
-things, we learned the British signals, and it's
-the British system we are using to-day....
-There are American <i>ships</i> here and British
-ships but <i>only one fleet</i>.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Everywhere I went, I found both British
-and American officers keen to emphasize
-this unity. Said a Briton&mdash;-"Why we no
-longer think of the Americans of 'the Americans';
-we think of squadron X of the fleet.
-It's just wonderful the way your chaps have
-got down to business and fallen in with the
-technique and the traditions. We expected
-to see you spend some time getting into the
-life of the fleet and all that, you know; the
-sort of thing that a boy in a public school
-goes through before he gets the spirit and the
-ways of the place, but your people came
-along in the morning and had picked up
-everything by the afternoon." And I found
-the Americans proud of the fleet's essential
-oneness, proud to share in its great tradition,
-and to be a part of its history. America is
-taking no obscure place. Her hosts have
-given her the place of honour in the battle line.
-</p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-156"></a>
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-156.jpg" alt="An American battleship fleet leaving the harbor" />
-<br />
-An American battleship fleet leaving the harbor
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Battle&mdash;that was the thought of everybody
-aboard the fleet. If only the German "High
-Canal" fleet would really come out and fight
-it to a finish, or as an American lieutenant
-put it, "start something." The Germans,
-however, knew only too well that the famous
-betoasted <i>Der Tag</i> would turn swiftly into
-a <i>Dies Iræe</i> and preferred to surrender. So
-for lack of an antagonist, the fleet had to be
-content to keep steam up all the time and to
-know that everything was prepared for a day
-of battle. But the fleet did far more than
-wait. No statement of the Germans was
-more empty of truth than the silly cry that
-the British fleet lies "skulking in harbour for
-fear of submarines." The fleet was busy all
-the time. Again and again, a visible defiance,
-it swept by the mine sealed mouths of the
-German bases. For five years now, the fleet
-has been on a war footing prepared for instant
-action, a tremendous task this. "If they only
-had come out, the beggars."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-A day with the fleet in port passed casually
-and calmly enough. There was none of that
-melodrama which invests the war of the
-destroyer and the submarine, and human
-problems seemed to lack importance, for in
-the fleet man is somewhat shadowed by the
-immense force he has created. On board
-there were various drills, perhaps a general
-quarters practice drill that sends everybody
-scurrying to his station. Hour after hour, the
-visitor sees the continuous and multitudinous
-activity needed to keep a dreadnaught in
-shape as a fortress, an engine, and a ship.
-Then, when the evening has come, such officers
-as are off duty may sit down to a game
-of bridge or go to their rooms to read or study
-quietly. There are great days when kings and
-queens come aboard and are royally
-entertained. Twice a week the entertainment
-committee of the fleet sent round a steel
-box full of "movies." However, everybody
-enjoys them, and laughs. But it is good to
-escape on deck again, and see the squadron
-and the fleet beneath the haloed moon.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The shores about are quite in darkness,
-though now and then a glow appears over
-the hidden dockyard as if some one there
-had opened a furnace door. A little breeze
-is blowing a thin, flat sheet of cloud across
-the moon; one can hear water slapping
-against the sides. The sailors on watch walk
-up and down the decks, shouldering their
-guns. In the light one might believe the
-basketry of the woven masts to be spun of
-delicate silver bars. Behind us ride the other
-vessels of the squadron, a row of dark, triangular
-shapes. The great columnar guns, sealed
-with a brazen plug, seem mute and dead.
-The curtain of a hatchway parts, and a little
-group of officers come on deck to watch a
-squadron go to sea. One by one the vessels,
-battleships and attendant destroyers glide
-past us into the dark, and so swift and silent
-their motion is that they seem to be less
-self-propelled than drawn forward by some
-mysterious force dwelling far beyond in the
-moonlit sea. A slight hiss of cleaving water,
-the length of a hurrying grey fortress beneath
-the moon, and the last of the squadron
-vanishes down the roads. For a little time
-one may see the diminishing glares of blinker
-lights. Squadrons of various kinds are
-forever leaving a fleet base to go on mysterious
-errands, squadrons are ever returning home
-from the mystery and silence of the sea.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-A friend comes to tell me that we have been
-put on "short notice," and may leave at any
-instant.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap23"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXIII
-<br /><br />
-TO SEA WITH THE FLEET
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-On the morning of the day that the
-fleet went out, there was to be felt
-aboard that tensity which follows on
-a "short notice" warning. Officers rushed
-into the wardroom for a hasty cup of coffee
-and hurried back to their beloved engines;
-the bluejackets, too, knew that something
-was in the air. A visitor to the flagship
-will not have to study long the faces of his
-hosts to see that they are an exceptional
-lot of men. Whilst among the destroyers
-there is a good deal of the grey-eyed
-ram-you, damn-you type; on a battleship there
-is a union of the elements of thought and
-action which is very fine to see. Nor is the
-artist element lacking in many a countenance.
-I remember a chief engineer whose ability
-as an engineer was a word in the fleet; it
-was easy to see, when he took you through
-his marvellous engine room, that he enjoyed
-his labour as much for the wonder of the
-delicacy, the power and the precision of his
-giant engines as he did for their mere
-mechanical side of pressures and horsepower. Nor
-shall I ever see a more perfect example of
-coördination and competence than a turret
-drill at which I was invited to assist. From
-the distinguished young executive to the
-lowest rated officer in "the steerage," every
-man brought to his task not only an expert's
-understanding of it, but a love of his work,
-which, I think it is Kipling that says it, is
-the most wonderful thing in all the world.
-The vessel was very much what Navy folk
-call a "happy ship." I must say the prospect
-of going out with the fleet and with such a
-wonderful crowd did not make me keenly
-miserable. "If they only would come out,
-ah, if...!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"So we are still on an hour's notice," I
-said to one of my hosts in the hope of getting
-some information.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Yes, back again. At two o'clock this
-morning the time was extended, but after
-seven we were put back on short time once
-more."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I suppose the time is always shifting and
-changing?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Yes, indeed. You know we are always
-on an hour's notice. Pretty short, isn't it?
-You see we don't want the Germans to get
-away with anything if we can help it. Got
-to be ready to sail right down and smash them.
-Nobody knows just why the time changes
-come. Somebody knows something of course.
-Perhaps one of the British submarines on
-outpost duty off the German coast has seen
-something, and sent it along by wireless.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I asked about the German watch on the
-British bases.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Subs. Everybody's doing it. I suppose
-that two or three are hanging off this coast
-all the time trying to get a squint at the
-fleet. It's what we call keeping a 'periscope
-watch' ... run by the naval intelligence.
-Little good anything they pick up about us
-does the Germans! Safety first is their daring
-game. What they are itching to do is to
-pick off one of our patrol squadrons that's
-gone on a little prospecting toot all by itself.
-They'd try, I think, if they weren't mighty
-well aware that not a single ship of the crowd
-that did the stunt would ever get back to
-the old home canal."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Presently a sailor messenger arrived, stood
-to attention, saluted snappily, and presented
-a paper. The officer read and signed.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You're in luck," said he. "We are going
-out ... due to leave in three hours. Whole
-fleet together, evidently. Something's on
-for sure.... Hope they're out." And off
-he hurried to his quarters. I saw "the
-exec." going from place to place taking a
-look at everything. Pretty soon the chaplain
-of the flagship, an officer to whose friendly
-welcome and thoughtful courtesy I am in
-real debt, came looking for me.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Come along," he cried, "you are missing
-the show. They're beginning to go out
-already. You ought to be on deck," and seizing
-me by the arm, he rushed me energetically
-up a companionway to the world without.
-There I learned that the departure of the
-Grand Fleet was no simultaneous movement
-such as the start of an automobile convoy,
-but a kind of tremendous process occupying
-several hours. The scout vessels, were to go
-first, then the various classes of cruisers and
-the destroyer flotillas with whom they acted
-in concert, last of all the squadrons of
-battleships. Our own sailing time was three hours
-distant and the outward movement had
-already begun.
-</p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-164"></a>
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-164.jpg" alt="Even a super-dreadnought is wet at times" />
-<br />
-Even a super-dreadnought is wet at times
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The day was a pleasant one, the sun was
-shining clear and a fresh salty breeze was
-blowing down the estuary. The officers,
-however, shook their heads, talked of "low
-visibility," and pointed out that an invisible
-mist hung over the water, whose cumulative
-effect was not at all to their liking.
-First there went out a new variety of
-submarine, steam submarines of extraordinary
-size and speed; there followed a swift
-procession of destroyers and lighter cruisers,
-many signalling with blinker and flag. The
-outgoing of the destroyers was a sight not
-to be forgotten, for more than anything else
-did it impress upon me the titanic character
-of the fleet. <i>Destroyers passed one every fifty
-seconds for a space of many hours</i>. You would
-hear a hiss, and a lean, low rapier of a vessel
-would pass within a hundred yards of the
-flagship and hurry on, rolling, into the waiting
-haze of the open sea, and as you watched this
-first vessel leave your bow astern, you would
-hear another watery hiss prophetic of the
-following boat. On our own vessel all boats
-had long before been hoisted to their places;
-there were mysterious crashing noises, bugle
-calls, a deal of orderly action. Time passed;
-a long time full of movement and stir. The
-greater vessels began to go out, titans of
-heroic name, <i>The Iron Duke</i>, <i>Queen Elizabeth</i>,
-<i>Lion</i>. A broad swirling road of water lay
-behind them as one by one they melted
-into that ever mysterious obscurity ahead.
-Then with a jar, and a torrent of crashing
-iron thunder dreadful as a disintegration of
-the universe itself, our own immense anchor
-chains rose from the water below, and the
-American flagship got under way. We looked
-with a meditative eye on the bare shores of
-the firth wondering what adventures we were
-to have before we saw them again. Behind
-us the mist gathered, ahead, it melted away.
-And thus we stood out to the open sea.
-Night came, starlit and cold. Just at
-sun-down one of the British ships destroyed a
-floating mine with gun fire. I sought
-information from an officer friend.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What about the mine problem?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Never bothers us a bit, though the
-Germans have planted mines everywhere.
-This North Sea is as full of them as a pudding
-is of plums."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Why is it then that the fleet doesn't
-lose ships when out on these expeditions?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Because the British mine sweepers have
-done so bully a job."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"But once you get beyond the swept
-channels at the harbour mouths, what then?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The mine-sweepers attend to the whole
-North Sea."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You mean to say that the Admiralty
-actually clears an ocean of mines?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"To all intents and purposes, yes. Haven't
-you read of naval skirmishes in the North
-Sea? They are always having them. Many
-of those skirmishes take place between patrol
-boats of ours and enemy patrols. Of course
-it's a task, but the British have done it.
-One of the most wonderful achievements of
-the war."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Suppose the Germans try to reach the
-British coast?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"They do their best to find the British path.
-As a result, the Germans are always either
-bumping into their own mines or into ours.
-I feel pretty sure that their loss from mines
-has been quite heavy."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Where, then, are the German cruising
-grounds? Doesn't their fleet get out once in
-a while?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Not to the outer sea. Once in a while
-they parade up the Danish coast, never going
-more than two or three hours from their
-base. Our steady game, of course, is to nab
-them when they are out, and cut off their
-retreat. If the weather had held good at
-Jutland, this would have been done. But
-the Germans now hardly ever venture out.
-Destroyers of theirs, based on the Belgian
-coast, try to mix things up in the Channel
-once or twice a year, but the fleet seems to
-stick pretty closely to dear old Kiel."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Any more information in regard to this
-present trip?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Not a thing. It's always mysterious like
-this. Yet in twenty minutes we may be right
-in the thick of the world's greatest naval
-battle."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The next morning I rose at dawn to see the
-fleet emerge from the dark of night. A North
-Sea morning was at hand, cold, windy and
-clear. Now seas have their characters even
-as various areas of land, and there is as much
-difference between the North Sea and the
-Irish Sea as there is between a rocky New
-England pasture and a stretch of prairie.
-The shallow North Sea is in colour an honest
-salty, ocean green, and its surface is ever in
-motion; a sea without respite or rest. It has
-a franker, more masculine character than the
-beleaguered sea to the west with its mottlings
-of shadow and shoal and weaving, white-crested
-tide rips. A great armament, scouts,
-destroyers, and light cruisers had already
-passed over the edge of the world, and only
-a very thin haze revealed their presence.
-Miles ahead of us in a great lateral line, a
-number of great warships, vast triangular
-bulks, ploughed along side by side, then came
-the American squadron in a perpendicular line,
-each vessel escorted by destroyers. Behind
-us, immense, stately, formidable and dark,
-the second American ship followed down the
-broad river of our wake which flowed like
-liquid marble from the beat of the propellers.
-And behind the American squadron lay other
-ships, and over the horizon the bows of more
-ships still were pointing to the mine-strewn
-German coast. The Grand Fleet line, <i>eighty
-miles long</i>, rode the sea, a symbol of power,
-an august and visible defiance. Standing
-beneath the forward turret, beside the muzzles
-of the titan guns, I felt that I had at last
-beheld the mightiest element of the war.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Tightly wrapped in a navy great coat, the
-young officer whose guest I had been at
-turret drill walked up and down the deck
-watching the southeastern horizon. What
-eagerness lay in his eyes! If we only might
-then have heard a heavy detonation from
-over the edge of the dawn-illumined sky! ... All
-day long we cried our challenge over the
-sealed waters ahead.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Were "they" out? To this day, I do not
-know. The ways of the fleet are mysterious.
-Certainly, none came forth to accept our
-gage of battle. A time passed, and we were
-in port again. We saw the vessels we had
-left behind, the supply ships, tugs, oil tenders,
-colliers ... all the servants of the fleet.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Down in the wardroom, the tension relaxed.
-The anchor chain rattled out; once more
-the universe seemed to part asunder. The
-mail had arrived, joyous event. Somebody
-put a roll of music into a rather passé player
-piano, and let loose an avalanche of horribly
-orderly chords.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And all the time the Olympians were preparing,
-not the battle of the ages, but the
-Great Surrender!
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap24"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXIV
-<br /><br />
-"SKY PILOTS"
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-We know him as chaplain, the gobs
-use the good old term "Sky Pilot,"
-and the British call him "Padre." His
-task, no light one, is to look after the
-spiritual and moral welfare of some thousand
-sailor souls. He is general counsellor, friend
-in need, mender of broken hearts, counsel
-for the defence, censor, and show manager.
-Now he comes to the defence of seaman, first
-class, Billy Jones, whose frail bark of life has
-come to grief on the treacherous reef of the
-installment plan, and for whose misdemeanours
-a clamouring merchant is on deck threatening
-to "attach the ship." Now he is assuring the
-clergyman of the church on the hill that 2nd
-class petty officer Edgar K. Lee (who is going
-to marry pretty little Norah Desmond) is
-not, as far as he knows, committing bigamy.
-They tell of a chaplain of the destroyer force
-who, pestered beyond bearing by these
-demands that the American bridegroom be
-declared officially and stainlessly single, floored
-his tormentor by replying: "I've told you
-that as far as we know the man's unmarried.
-We can't give you any assurance more official.
-He may be bigamous, trigamous, quadrugamous,
-or," here he paused for effect, "pentagamous,
-but I advise you to risk it." The land
-sky pilot is said to have collapsed.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Aboard the flagship of the Grand Fleet,
-the chaplain of the vessel was my guide,
-counsellor, and friend. In the words of one of the
-sailors, "Our chaplain is a real feller." And
-indeed it would have been hard to find a
-better man for the task than this padre of ours
-with his young man's idealism, friendliness,
-and energy. In addition to his welfare work,
-he had his duties as a de-coder, and his spare
-time he spent tutoring several of the enlisted
-personnel who were about to take examinations
-for higher ratings. It is a great mistake,
-by the way, to imagine that a violent gulf
-lies between the commissioned officer and the
-enlisted man. One finds the higher officer
-only too glad to help the sailor advance, and
-many times have they said to me, "Don't
-write about us, write about the sailors;
-get to know them; get their story." On this
-particular ship many of the younger officers
-were, like the chaplain, giving up their spare
-time to help the ambitious men along.
-Correspondence school courses are great favourites
-in the Navy, and have undoubtedly helped
-many a sailor on to a responsible rating.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Our flagship chaplain used to make several
-rounds of the ship every day, "tours of
-welfare inspection," he used to call them
-humorously. Everywhere would he go, from
-wardroom to torpedo station, not neglecting an
-occasional visit to the boiler room. Friendly
-grins used to salute him on his passage; as
-the sailor said he was a "real feller." I often
-accompanied him on his rounds. When the
-tour was over, we would go to the chaplain's
-room for a quiet smoke and a good talk.
-The chaplain's room was always clean and
-quiet, and on the bookshelf, instead of weighty
-books on thermodynamics and navigation,
-were the pleasant kind of books one found in
-friendly houses over home.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Do you know," said the chaplain to me
-one day, "you have landed here at an interesting
-time. There's very little shore leave
-being given because it can't be given, and as
-a result the life of the ship is thrown back
-upon itself for all its amusements and social
-activities. What do you think of the morale
-here?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I think it's very high," I answered.
-"The men seem very contented and keen.
-I've talked with a great many of them. How
-do you keep the morale up?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well, this ship has always been famous
-as a 'happy ship'" (here I ventured to say
-that any other condition would be impossible
-under the captain we had) "and when men
-get into the habit of working together
-good-naturedly, that habit is liable to stick. And
-I find the men sustained by the thought of
-active service. You may think it calm here,
-having just arrived from a destroyer base,
-but think of what it is over on the American
-coast."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Calm?" said I. "Don't put that down to
-me. The very idea of being with the Grand
-Fleet is thrilling. It's the experience of a
-lifetime. And let me tell you right from
-personal experience that no sight of the land
-war can match the impressiveness and
-grandeur of the first view of the fleet."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I feel just as you do. The whole thing is a
-constant wonder. And some day the Germans
-may come out. Moreover, summer is now
-at hand, and we shall have a chance to use
-the deck more for sports. This long, raw,
-rainy winter doesn't permit much outdoor
-exercise. As soon as it gets warm, however,
-we shall have boxing matches on the deck
-between various members of the crew and the
-champions of the different ships. We have
-some good wrestlers, too. At present we are
-reduced to vaudeville competitions between
-our various vessels, and movies. I'm doing
-my best to get better movies. So we shan't
-fare badly after all."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"When do you hold Sunday services?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I have a service in the morning and
-another in the evening. Yes, I muster a pretty
-big congregation. But I'm afraid I've got
-to be going now, got to ram a little algebra
-into the head of one of the boys. See you
-at dinner." And our sky pilot was gone.
-May good luck go with him, and good friends
-be ever at hand to return him the friendliness
-he grants.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-They tell a story of a favourite chaplain
-who retired from the Navy to take charge
-of a parish on land.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Good-bye, sir," said one of the old salts
-to him, as he was leaving the ship. "Good-bye,
-sir. We'll all look to see you come back with
-a <i>bishop's rating</i>."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap25"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXV
-<br /><br />
-IN THE WIRELESS ROOM
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-I haven't the slightest idea where the
-wireless room is or how to find it. All
-that I remember is that some kind soul
-took me by the hand, led me through various
-passages and down several ladders, and landed
-me in a small compartment which I felt sure
-must have been hollowed out of the keel.
-The wireless room of a great ship is, by the
-way, a kind of holy of holies, and my visit to
-it more than an ordinary privilege.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There are as many messages in the air
-these times as there were wasps in the orchard
-in boyhood days after one had thrown a large,
-carefully-selected stone into the big nest.
-Messages in all keys and tunes, messages in
-all the known languages, messages in the
-most baffling of codes. Now the operator
-picks up a merchantman asking for advice in
-English, this against all rules and regulations;
-a request once answered by a profane
-somebody with "Use the code, you damned fool." At
-intervals the Eiffel Tower signals the time;
-listening to it, one seems to hear the clear,
-monotonous tick-tock of a giant pendulum.
-Now it is a British land station talking to a
-British squadron on watch in the North Sea,
-now the destroyers are at it, now one hears
-the great station at Wilhelmshaven sending
-out instructions to the submarine fleet in
-ambush off these isles.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-How strange it is to come here at midnight
-and hear the Germans talking! Germany
-has been so successfully cut off from contact
-with the civilization she assaulted that these
-communications have the air of being messages
-from Mars. There are times when the radio
-operator picks up frantic cries sent by one
-U-boat to another; I have before me as I
-write a record of such a call. It began at 2.14
-A.M., shortly after a certain submarine was
-depth-bombed by an American destroyer.
-First to be received was <i>OLN's</i> clear, insistent
-call for <i>RXK</i> and <i>ZZN</i>, probably the two
-nearest members of the U-boat fleet. Were
-they cries for help? Probably. Again and
-again the spark uttered its despairing message.
-For some time there was no answer. The
-other two boats may have been submerged;
-quite possibly sunk. Then at 2.40 from
-far, far away came <i>ADL</i> calling <i>OLN</i>. At
-2.45 <i>OLN</i> answered very faintly. A minute
-or two later, <i>ADL</i> tried and tried again to
-get either <i>RXK</i> and <i>ZZN</i>. But there was no
-answer. Was she trying to send them to the
-help of the stricken vessel? At 2.57 <i>ADL</i>
-tries for the hard pressed <i>OLN</i>, but no answer
-comes to her across the darkness of the sea.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Night and day, a force of operators sit here
-taking down the messages, sending important
-ones directly to the chief officers, and letting
-unimportant ones accumulate in batches of
-four and five. The messages are written or
-typewritten on a form in shape and make-up
-not unlike that of an ordinary telegram blank.
-All day and all night long, the messengers
-hurry through the corridors of the great ship
-with bundles of these naval signals. And
-since everything intended for the Navy comes
-in code, decoders too must be at hand at all
-hours to unravel the messages. It is no easy
-task, for the codes are changed for safety's
-sake every little while. On board the great
-ship I visited, the chaplain did a big share of
-this work. I can see him now bent over his
-table in the wireless room, spelling out
-sentences far more complicated than the Latin
-and Greek of his university days.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There is one wireless service which will not
-be remembered with affection by our sailors
-over there, the Government Wireless Press
-Service. I was in the Grand Fleet when that
-dashing business of the first Zeebrugge raid
-occurred. The "Press News" on the
-following morning mentioned it, and warned us
-impressively to keep our knowledge to
-ourselves. As a result we spoke of it at
-breakfast time with bated breath. I myself, a
-modest person, was stricken with a sudden
-access of importance at possessing a Grand
-Fleet secret.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Then at ten o'clock the morning papers
-came down from a certain great city with
-a full, detailed account of the raid!
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The thing that we have most against it,
-however, is its conduct during the great
-offensive of the spring of 1918. The air was
-resounding with the wireless pæans of the
-on-rushing Germans; and everybody was
-worried, and anxious to know the fortunes
-of our troops. One rushed to breakfast early
-to have first chance at the press news. Friends
-gathered behind one's shoulder, and tried
-to read before sitting down. What's the news?
-What's the news? This (or something very
-like it) was the news:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Dr. Ostropantski, president of the Græco-Lettish
-Diet, denounced yesterday at a meeting
-of the Novoe Vremya the German assault
-on the liberties of Beluchistan."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There was one vast, concerted groan from
-the sons of the Grand Fleet. Some wondered
-what the anxious folk far out at sea on the
-destroyers were saying. Finally the wit of
-the table shook his head gravely.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Boys," said he, "where <i>would</i> we be if
-the civilians refused to tell?"
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap26"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXVI
-<br /><br />
-MARINES
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-This paper does not deal with the
-marines fighting in France, but with
-the marines such as one finds them
-on the greater ships. The gallant "devil
-dogs" now adding fresh laurels to the corps
-have army correspondents to tell of them,
-for though they are trained by the Navy and
-are the Navy's men, the Army has them now
-under its command. It is rather of the
-genuine marine, the true "soldier of the sea" that
-I would speak. Having been myself something
-of a soldier and a sailor, the marines
-were good enough to receive me in a friendly
-fashion when I was a guest on one of the
-battleships now on foreign service.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Even as the traditional nickname for the
-sailor is "gob," so is "leatherneck" the
-seaman's traditional word for the marine. I
-am guileless enough not to know just how
-marines take this term, but if there is any
-doubt, I advise readers to be easy with it,
-for marines will fight at the drop of a hat.
-All those aboard declared, by the way, that
-the antipathy between the sailor and the
-marine in which the public believes, does not
-exist, nor do the marines according to the
-popular notion "police the ship." The marine
-has his place; the sailor has his, and they do
-not mix, not because they dislike each other,
-but simply because the marine and the sailor
-are the products of two widely different
-systems of training. Moreover, the marine is
-bound to his own people by an <i>esprit de corps</i>
-without equal in the world. It was very fine
-to see each man's anxiety that the corps should
-not merely have a good name, but the best
-of names.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We swopped yarns. In return for my gory
-tales of shelled cities, gas attacks, and air
-raids, they gave me gorgeous ... gorgeous
-tales of the little wars they have fought in
-the Caribbean. I realized for the first time
-just what it meant to Uncle Sam to be Central
-America's policeman. Now, as they spun
-their yarns, I could see the low, white buildings
-of a Consulate against the luminous West
-Indian sky, the boats on the beach, the
-marines on patrol; now the sugar plantation
-menaced by some political robber-rebel, the
-little tents under the trees, the business-like
-machine gun. A harassed American planter
-is often the <i>deux ex machina</i> of these tales.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We used to talk in a little office aboard
-the battleships down by the marines' quarters,
-which lie aft. I believe it was the sergeant's
-sanctum sanctorum. There were marine
-posters on the wall, a neat little stack of
-the marines' magazines handy by, a few books,
-and some filing cabinets. Just outside were
-the marine lockers, each one in the most
-perfect order, and a gun breech used for loading
-drills. The sergeant, himself, was a fine,
-keen fellow who had been in the corps for some
-time. His men declared themselves, for the
-most part, city born and bred.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What happened then?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Just as soon as they got the message, a
-detail was sent into the hills for the defence
-of the plantation. It was a big sugar
-plantation. The American manager was seeing
-red he was so peeved, the harvesting season
-had come and the help, scared by the insurgents,
-were beating it off into the hills. What's
-more, the insurgents had told the manager
-that if he didn't pony up with five thousand
-dollars by a certain date, they'd burn the
-place. Actually had the nerve..."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"In fiction," said I, "a lean, dark, villainous
-fellow mounted on a magnificent horse which
-he has looted from some fine stable dashes
-up to the plantation door, delivers his threat
-in an icy tone and gallops back into the bush.
-Or else a message wrapped round a stone
-crashes through the window onto the family
-breakfast table. Which was it?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I think the marine telling the story wanted
-very much to utter: "How do you get that
-way?" however, he merely grinned and answered:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Neither. A big, fat greaser in a dirty,
-Palm Beach suit came ambling up one morning
-as if somebody had asked him to chow. This
-was his game. A holdup? Oh, no! Only
-his men were getting a bit restless under the
-neck, about five thousand dollars restless, and
-if they didn't get it, there's no telling what
-they wouldn't do. He thought he could
-restrain them till Tuesday night, of course
-it would be a pretty stiff job to hold them in,
-but if something crisp and green hadn't
-shown up by Tuesday P.M., those devils
-might actually burn the plantation. Did
-you ever hear such a line of bull? And that's
-the honest truth of it, too; none of this stone
-in the mashed potatoes guff."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"And then," I broke in, "the faithful
-servant gallops through the valley to the shore;
-a stray bullet knocks off his hat, but he gets
-there, and delivers his message to the warship
-in the bay. A bugle blows, the marines rally,
-launches take them to the beach; they rush
-over the hills, and get to the plantation just
-as Devil's-hoof Gomez or Pink-eyed Pedro
-has set fire to a corner of the bungalow.
-Rifles crack, bugles sound a charge, the
-marines rush the Gomez gang who take to
-their heels. Brave hearts put out the fire.
-Isn't there always an exquisitely beautiful
-señorita to be rescued? There always is in
-the movies. Now, please don't destroy any
-more of my illusions."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The message comes all right, all right,
-but I doubt very much if that faithful servant
-comes in a hurry. Down there, if a man goes
-by in a hurry, everybody in the village will be
-out to look at him.... The major gets
-the message, works out his plan of campaign,
-and away we go. Arrived at the plantation,
-we pitch camp, establish pickets, and
-generally get things ready to give the restless
-greasers a hot time. Sometimes the greasers
-try their luck at sniping; other times, they
-go away quietly and don't give you a bit of
-trouble. There aren't any beautiful señoritas,
-... no broken hearts. Yes, it's tough
-luck."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Thus were my illusions dispelled by a
-group of Uncle Sam's marines. They forgot
-to tell me that many members of their little
-company had been wounded, and seriously
-wounded in these West Indian shindies. The
-list of wounds and honours in the records
-was an impressive roll.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The visitor aboard a warship will see
-marines acting as orderlies and corporals of
-the guard and manning the secondary batteries.
-I attended many of their drills, and
-never shall forget the snap and "pep," of the
-evolutions. Nor shall I forget the courtesies
-and friendly help of the gallant officer under
-whose command these soldiers of the sea
-have the good luck to be stationed.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-N.B. (Very secret), to Huns only. The
-marines man the gun in the "Exec's" office
-and the corresponding one in the line officers'
-reading room. If you want to get home to
-the old home canal, ... keep away from
-their range.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap27"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXVII
-<br /><br />
-SHIPS OF THE AIR
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-After I had been to visit several of
-the bases, I returned to London, and
-called at the Navy headquarters. A
-young officer of the admiral's staff who was
-always ready and willing to help the writers
-assigned to the Navy in every possible way,
-came down to talk with me. "Had I been
-to Base X? To Base Y? Had I been to see
-the American submarines? The Naval
-Aviation?" I grasped at the last phrase.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Tell me about it," I said. "I had no idea
-that the sea flyers were over here. Last fall
-the streets of Boston were so thick with boys
-of that service that you could hardly move
-round. And now they are on this side.
-Where can I find them?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The officer drew me to a large scale map of
-the British Isles and the French coast which
-hung on the wall, plentifully jabbed with
-little flags. His finger fairly flew from one
-dot to another.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well," said he, "we have a station here,
-another station here, another station there,
-... there's a station on this point of land;
-right about here we're putting up buildings
-for a depot but there is nobody at hand yet,
-here's a big station...." I believe that
-he could have continued for five minutes.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You seem to have a big affair well in
-hand," I suggested, rather surprised.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"No," he corrected, "just beginning. The
-department scheme for the naval aviation
-service is one of the big things of the war.
-It's so big, so comprehensive that people over
-there haven't woken up to it yet. Aren't
-you going to Base L next week? Why don't
-you go down the coast a few miles and see the
-outfit at Z? Only don't forget that we've
-'just begun to fight.' Come upstairs and
-let me give you a letter." A few days later
-I ran down to see the aviators in their eyrie.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The naval station lay in a sheltered cove
-hidden away in a green and ragged coast.
-Landing at a somewhat tumble-down old
-pier, I saw ahead of me a gentle slope descending
-to a broad beach of shingle. Mid-way
-along this beach, ending under the water,
-was to be seen a wide concrete runway which
-I judged to be but newly finished, for empty
-barrels of cement and gravel separators stood
-nearby. At the top of the slope, in a great
-field behind mossy trees, lay the corrugated
-iron dormitories of a vast, deserted camp once
-the repose quarters of a famous fighting
-regiment. There was something of the
-atmosphere of an abandoned picnic ground to
-the place. Sailor sentries stood at the entrance
-of the quiet roads leading to the empty
-barracks, and directed me to those in authority.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The naval aviation is a new service. For
-a long time the uniform of the cadets was so
-unfamiliar that even in their own America the
-boys used to be taken for foreign officers.
-It was a case of "I say he's an Italian. No,
-dear, I'm <i>sure</i> he's a Belgian." A not
-unnatural mistake, for the uniform has a certain
-foreign jauntiness. In colour, it is almost
-an olive green, and consists of a short,
-high-collared tunic cut snugly to the figure, shaped
-breeches of the riding pattern, and putties to
-match. Add the ensign's solitary stripe and
-star on shoulder and sleeve and you have it.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I found a group of the flyers in one of the
-tin barracks that did duty as a kind of
-recreation centre. The spokesman of the party
-was a serious lad from Boston.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Fire away," they yelled good-naturedly
-to my announcement that I was going to
-bomb with questions.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"First of all, about how many of you are
-there helping to make it home-like for Fritz
-in this amiable spot?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"About fifty of us."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Been here long?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"No, just came. You see the station is not
-really finished yet, but they are hurrying it
-along to beat the cars. Did you spot that
-concrete runway as you came up? A daisy,
-isn't it? Slope just right, and no skimping
-on the width. Well, that's only one of the
-runways we're going to have. Over on the
-other side, the plans call for three or four
-more."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"And what do these sailors do?" I had
-noticed a large number of sailors about.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"They look after our machines and the
-balloons. You see this is a regular aviation
-section just the same as the army has, and the
-sailors are trained mechanics, repair men,
-clerks and so forth. They're rather taking
-it easy now because the planes have been
-somewhat slow in reaching us. You know
-as well as I do the rumpus that's been made
-in the States over the air program. Things are
-breezing up mighty fast now, however, and
-every supply ship that puts into the harbour
-brings some of our equipment. The Navy's
-ready, the camps are being organized, the men
-are trained; it's up to the manufacturers to
-hustle along our machines. Please try to
-make them realize that when you write."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"But, say," put in another, "don't, for the
-love of Pete, run away with the idea that we
-haven't any equipment. We've got some
-planes and some balloons. But we want more,
-more, more. Anything to keep the Germans
-on the go."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What do you use?" I asked. "Mostly
-balloons," put in a third speaker, a quiet
-young Westerner who had thus far not joined
-in the conversation. "Most of us are balloon
-observers, though Jos here," he indicated the
-Bostonian, "is a sea-plane artist. He runs
-one of the planes."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Come," said I, "tell the thrilling story."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"There isn't any story," groaned Jos,
-"that's just the trouble. I've been fooling
-round these coasts and out by the harbour
-mouth in the hope of spotting a sub till I feel
-as if I'd used up all the gasoline in the British
-Isles. Those destroyers have spilled the
-beans. Fritz doesn't dare to come round.
-Ever try fishing in a place from which the
-fish have been thoroughly scared away? It's
-like that. Mine laying submarines used to
-be round the mouth of the harbour all the time,
-now Fritz is never seen or heard from....
-The destroyers have spilled the beans. The
-balloon hounds are the whole show here.
-Tell him about it, Mac. You've taken more
-trips than any of the others." The disgruntled
-sea planer knocked a bull-dog pipe on his
-shoe, and was still.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I can't tell much," drawled Mac, a wiry,
-black little Southerner with a wonderful
-accent. "They fill the balloon up here, take
-it out to a destroyer or some patrol boat
-and tie it on, jes like a can to purp's tail.
-Then you go out in the Irish Sea and watch
-for subs. If you observe anything that looks
-like a Hun, you simply telephone it down to
-the destroyer's deck, and she rushes ahead and
-investigates. Sometimes the observer in the
-balloon sees something which can't be seen
-from the level of the destroyer's bridge, and
-in that case the balloonist practically steers
-the vessel, ... so many points to port,
-so many to starboard, and so on till you land
-them in the suspected area."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What's it like up above there in a balloon?
-From the deck of a battleship or a destroyer,
-it seems to be a calm matter."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Don't be too sure of that. I know it
-looks calm, calm as a regular up-in-the-air
-old feather baid. And it isn't bad if you have
-a decent wind with which the course and speed
-of the ship are in some sort of an agreement.
-But if the ship's course lies in one direction and
-the wind is blowing from another, the balloon
-blows all over the place. When the wind
-blows from behind, you float on ahead and
-try to pull the ship after you; if the wind is
-from ahead, you are dragged along at the
-end of a chain like a mean dawg. There is
-always sure to be a party if the ship zigzags.
-Now you are pulling towards the bow,
-now you are floating serenely to port, now you
-are tugging behind, now you are nowhere
-in particular and apparently standing on yo'
-haid."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We went to walk in the grounds. I was
-shown where the balloon shed was to be, the
-generators, and a dozen other houses.
-Evidently the station was going to be "some
-outfit." Already a big gang of civilian
-labourers, electrified by American energy, were
-hard at work laying the foundations of a large
-structure.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Yes," said one of the boys, "this is going
-to be a great place. When it's completed
-we shall have regular sea-plane patrols of this
-entire coast, and a balloon squadron ready
-to coöperate with either the British or the
-American destroyer fleets. Our boys along
-the French coast have already made it hot
-for some Huns, and believe me, if there are
-any subs left, you just bet we want a chance
-at 'em?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Such is the spirit that has driven the Germans
-from the seas.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap28"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXVIII
-<br /><br />
-THE SAILOR IN LONDON
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-The convalescent English Tommy in
-his sky-blue flannel suit, white shirt,
-and orange four-in-hand, the heavier,
-tropic-bred Australian with his hat brim
-knocked jauntily up to one side, the dark,
-grey-eyed Scotch highlander very braw and
-bony in his plaited kilt, these be picturesque
-figures on the streets of London, but the most
-picturesque of all is our own American tar.
-Our "gobs" are always so spruce and clean,
-and so young, young with their own youth
-and the youth of the nation. Jack ashore is
-to be found at the Abbey at almost any hour
-of the day, he wanders into the National
-Gallery, and stands before Nelson at St. Paul's;
-he causes fair hearts to break asunder
-at Hampton Court. Wherever you go in
-London, the wonderful wide trousers, and the
-good old pancake hat, this last worn cockily
-over one eye, are always to be seen in what
-nautical writers of the Victorian school call
-"the offing."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Our boys come in liberty parties of thirty
-and forty from the various bases, usually
-under the wing of a chief petty officer very
-conscious of his responsibility for these wild
-sailor souls. Accommodations are taken either
-at a good London hotel with which the
-authorities have some arrangement, or the
-personnel is distributed among various huts
-and hospitable dwellings. The great rallying
-centre is sure to be the Eagle Hut off the
-Strand.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-This famous hut, which every soldier or
-sailor who visits London will long remember,
-is situated, by a happy coincidence, in modern
-London's most New Yorkish area. It stands,
-a huddle of low, inconspicuous buildings,
-in just such a raw open space between three
-streets as on this side prefigures the building
-of a new skyscraper; the great, modern mass
-of Australia House lifts its imposing Beaux
-Arts façade a little distance above it, whilst
-the front of a fashionable hotel rises against
-the sky just beyond. The ragged island, the
-sense of open space, the fine high buildings,
-... "say, wouldn't you think you were back
-in America again?" Yet only a few hundred
-feet down the Strand, old St. Clement Danes
-lies like a ship of stone anchored in the
-thoroughfare, and Samuel Johnson, LL.D., stands
-bareheaded in the sun wondering what has
-happened to the world. The hut within
-is simply an agglomeration of big, clean,
-rectangular spaces, reading rooms, living rooms,
-dormitories, and baths always full of husky,
-pink figures, steam and the smell of soap.
-Physically, Eagle hut is merely the larger
-counterpart of some thousand others. The wonder
-of the place is its atmosphere. The narrow
-threshold might be three thousand miles
-in width, for cross it, and you will find
-yourself in America. All the dear, distinctive
-national things for which your soul and body
-have hungered and thirsted are gathered here.
-There is actually an American shoe shining
-stand, an American barber chair, and, Heaven
-be praised, "good American grub." It is a
-sight to see the long counter thronged with
-the eager, hungry bluejackets, to hear the
-buzz of lively conversation carried on in the
-pervading aroma of fried eggs, favourite dish
-or sandwich of apparently every doughboy
-and tar. One's admiration grows for the
-Y. workers who keep at the weary grind of
-washing floors, picking up stray cigarette
-buts, and washing innumerable eggy plates.
-I realized to the full what a poor old college
-professor who "helped" in a hut on the French
-front meant when he had said to me, "life
-is just one damned egg after another." Of
-course sometimes the "hen fruit"&mdash;one hears
-all kinds of facetious aliases at the Hut&mdash;gives
-way to <i>soi disant</i> buckwheat cakes, a dainty,
-lately honoured by royal attention. Should you
-stroll about the buildings, you will see sailors
-and soldiers reading in good, comfortable chairs;
-some playing various games, others sitting
-in quiet corners writing letters home. There
-is inevitably a crowd round the information
-bureau. Alas, for the poor human encyclopedia,
-he lives a bewildering life. On the
-morning that I called he had been asked to
-supply the address of a goat farm by a
-quartermaster charged with the buying of a mascot,
-and he was just recovering from this when a
-sailor from the Grand Fleet demanded a
-complete and careful résumé of the British
-marriage regulations! Everybody seems
-cheerful and contented; the officials are
-attentive and kind; the guests good-natured and
-well-behaved.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Such is the combination of club, restaurant,
-and hotel to which our Jack resorts. And
-there he lives content in his islet of America,
-while London roars about him. During the
-week, he wanders, as he says himself, "all
-over the place."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The good time ends with the Saturday
-ball game. Everybody goes. Posters announce
-it through London in large black type
-on yellow paper. "U.S. Army <i>vs.</i> U.S. Navy." The
-field is most American looking;
-the "bleachers" might be those in any great
-American town. The great game, the game
-to remember, was played in the presence of
-the king. The day was a good one, though
-now and then obscured with clouds; a
-strangely mixed audience was at hand,
-wounded Tommies, American soldiers speaking in
-all the tongues of all the forty-eight states,
-a number of American civilians from the
-embassy and the London colony, groups of
-dignified staff officers from the army and the
-navy headquarters, and even a decorous group
-of Britons dressed in the formal garments
-which are de rigueur in England at any
-high-class sporting event. Then in came the king
-walking ahead of his retinue, ... a man of
-medium height with a most kind and
-chivalrous face. Our admiral walked beside
-him. The band played, eager eyes looked
-down, the king, looking up, smiled, and
-won the good-will of every friendly young
-heart. A few minutes later, the noise broke
-forth again, "Oh you Army!" "Oh you
-Navy," a hullaballoo that culminated in a
-roar, "Play Ball!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The Navy men, wearing uniforms of blue
-with red stripes, walked out first, closely
-followed by the army in uniforms of
-grey-green. The admiral, towering straight and
-tall above his entourage, threw the ball. A
-pandemonium of yells broke forth. "Now's
-the time, give it to 'em, boys, soak it to 'em,
-soak it to 'em, steady Army, give him a can,
-run Smithie!" In a corner by themselves, a
-group of bluejackets made a fearful noise
-with some kind of whirligig rattles. Songs
-rose in spots from the audience, collided with
-other songs, and melted away in indistinguishable
-tunes. British Tommies looked on
-phlegmatically, enjoying it all just the same.
-There were stray, mocking cat calls. It was
-a real effort to bring one's self back to London,
-old London of decorous cricket, tea, and white
-flannels.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And of course, the Navy won. Over the
-heads of the vanishing crowd floated,
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- Give 'em the axe, the axe, the axe,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Where? Where? Where?<br />
- Right in the neck, the neck, the neck,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There! There! There!<br />
- Who gets the axe?<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;ARMY<br />
- Who says so!<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;NAVY<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-It ends with a roar.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Then there is a celebration, and the next
-morning, his holiday over, Jack is rounded
-up, and put into a railway carriage. The
-roofs of London die away, and Jack, dozing
-over his magazines, sees in a dream the great
-grey shapes of the battleships that wait for
-him in the endless northern rain.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap29"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXIX
-<br /><br />
-THE ARMED GUARD
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-When the Germans began to sink
-our unarmed merchant vessels, and
-announced that they intended to
-continue that course of action, it was
-immediately seen that the only possible military
-answer to this infamous policy lay in arming
-every ship. There were obstacles, however,
-to this defensive programme. We were at
-the time engaged in what was essentially a
-legal controversy with the Germans, a
-controversy in which the case of America and
-civilization was stated with a clarity, a
-sincerity, and a spirit of idealism which perhaps
-only the future can justly appreciate. We
-could not afford to weaken our case by
-involving in doubt the legal status of the
-merchantman. The enemy, driven brilliantly point
-by point from the pseudo-legal defences of
-an outrageous campaign, had taken refuge in
-quibbling, "the ship was armed," "a gun was
-seen," "such vessels must be considered as
-war vessels." We all know the sorry story.
-For a while, our hands were tied. Then came
-our declaration of war which left our Navy
-free to take protective measures. The
-merchantmen were fitted with guns, and given
-crews of Navy gunners. This service, devoted
-to the protection of the merchant ship, was
-known as the Armed Guard.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-It was not long before tanker and tramp,
-big merchantman and grimy collier sailed
-from our ports fully equipped. Vessels whose
-helplessness before the submarine had been
-extreme, the helplessness of a wretched
-sparrow gripped in the talons of a hawk, became
-fighting units which the submarine encountered
-at her peril. Moreover, finding it no longer
-easy to sink ships with gunfire, the submarines
-were forced to make greater use of their
-torpedoes, and this in turn compelled them to
-attempt at frequent intervals the highly
-dangerous voyage to the German bases on
-the Belgian coast. Sometimes the gun crews
-were British; sometimes American. The
-coöperation between the two Navies was at
-once friendly and scientific.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The guns with which the vessels were
-equipped were of the best, and the gun crews
-were recruited from the trained personnel
-of the fleet. One occasionally hears,
-aboard the greater vessels, lamentations for
-gunners who have been sent on to the Guard.
-These crews consisted of some half-dozen men
-usually under the command of a chief petty
-officer. A splendid record, theirs. They
-have been in action time and time again
-against the Germans, and have destroyed
-submarines. There is many a fine tale in the
-records of crews who kept up the battle till the
-tilt of their sinking vessel made the firing of
-the gun an impossibility. So far, the gunners
-on the merchant ships have come in for the
-lion's share of attention. But there is another
-and important side of the Armed Guard service
-which has not yet, I believe, been called to
-the public notice. I mean the work of the
-signal men of the Guard.
-</p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-206"></a>
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-206.jpg" alt="An American gun crew in heavy weather (winter) outfit" />
-<br />
-An American gun crew in heavy weather (winter) outfit
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The arming of the merchant ships was the
-first defensive measure to be adopted; the
-second, the gathering of merchantmen into
-escorted groups known as convoys. Now
-a convoy has before it several definite
-problems. If it was to make the most of its chances
-of getting through the German ambush, it
-must act as a well coördinated naval unit,
-obeying orders, answering signals, and
-performing designated evolutions in the manner
-of a battleship squadron. For instance,
-convoys follow certain zigzag plans, prepared
-in advance by naval experts. Frequently
-these schemes are changed at sea. Now if
-all the vessels change from plan X to plan Y
-simultaneously, all will go well, but if some
-delay, there is certain to be a most dangerous
-confusion, perhaps a collision. It is no easy
-task to keep twenty or so boats zigzagging
-in convoy formation, and travelling in a
-general direction eastward at the same time.
-Merchant captains have had to accustom
-themselves to these strict orders, no easy
-task for some old-fashioned masters; merchant
-crews have had to be educated to the
-discipline and method of naval crews. Moreover,
-there have been occasional foreign vessels
-to deal with, and the problem presented by a
-foreign personnel. In order, therefore, to
-assure that communication between the guide
-ship of the convoy and its attendant vessels
-which is, in the true sense of an abused word,
-vital to the success of the expedition, the
-Navy placed one of its keenest signalmen on
-the vessels which required one. He was there
-to give and to send signals, by flag, by
-international flag code, by "blinker" and by
-semaphore. The wireless was used as little
-as possible between the various vessels of
-the merchant fleet, indeed, practically not
-at all.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The system of signalling by holding two
-flags at various angles is fairly familiar since
-a number of organizations began to teach it,
-and the semaphore system is the same system
-carried into action by two mechanical arms.
-The method called "Blinker" has a Morse
-alphabet, and is sent by exposing and shutting
-off a light, the shorter exposures being the dots,
-the longer exposures, the dashes. Sometimes
-"blinker" is sent by the ship's search light,
-a number of horizontal shutters attached to
-one perpendicular rod serving to open and
-close the light aperture. One used to see
-the same scheme on the lower halves of
-old-fashioned window blinds. The international
-flag code is perhaps the hardest signal system
-to remember. It requires not only what a
-naval friend calls a good "brute" memory,
-but also a good visual memory. Many have
-seen the flags, gay pieces of various striped,
-patched, chequered, and dotted bunting
-reminiscent of a Tokio street fair. The signalman
-must learn the flag alphabet, committing to
-memory the colours and their geometric
-arrangement; he must also learn the special
-signification of each particular letter. For
-instance, one letter of the alphabet stands for
-"I wish to communicate"; there are also
-numbers to remember, phrases, and sentences.
-If a signalman cares to specialize, he can study
-certain minor systems, for instance the one in
-which a dot and a dash are symbolized by
-different coloured lights. A signalman must have a
-good eye, a quick brain, and a good memory.
-It is a feat in itself to remember what one has
-already received while continuing to receive
-a long, perhaps complicated message. Because
-of these intellectual requirements, you
-will find among the signalmen some of the
-cleverest lads in the Navy. "Giles" such a
-lad, "Idaho," another, and "Pop" was
-always "on the job."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The Guard has its barracks in a great
-American port. One saw there the men being
-sorted out, equipped for their special service,
-and assigned to their posts. A fine lot of
-real seafaring youngsters, tanned almost
-black. The Navy looked after them in a
-splendid fashion. Said one of the boys to me,
-"If I had only known what a wonderful
-place the Navy was, I'd been in it long
-ago." The boys were sent over in the merchant
-ships, were cleanly lodged in excellent hotels
-once they got to land, and were then sent
-back on various liners. The Armed Guard
-was a real seafaring service, and its men
-one and all were touched by the romance
-and mystery of the sea. They fell in with
-strange old tramps hurried from the East,
-they broke bread with strange crews, they
-beheld the sea in the sullen wrath it cherishes
-beneath the winter skies. One and all they
-have stood by their guns, one and all stood
-by their tasks, good, sturdy, American lads,
-gentlemen unafraid.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap30"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXX
-<br /><br />
-GOING ABOARD
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-Giles, who had just been sent to the
-Armed Guard from the fleet, was
-waiting for orders in a room at the
-naval barracks. It was early in the spring,
-the sun shone renewed and clear; a hurdy
-gurdy sounded far, far away. The big
-room was clean, clean with that hard, orderly
-tidiness which marks the habitations of men
-under military rule. A number of sailors,
-likewise waiting for their orders, stood about.
-There was a genuine sea-going quality in
-the tanned, eager young faces. The conversation
-dealt with their journeys, with the ships,
-with the men, the life aboard, the furloughs
-in London. "Bunch of Danes ... good
-eats ... chucked Bill right out of his bunk
-... regular peach ... saw Jeff at the Eagle
-Hut..."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Presently a bosun entered. A man somewhere
-in the thirties, brisk and athletic. One
-could see him counting the assembled sailors
-as he came, the numbers forming on his
-soundless lips. The talk died away.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"How many men here?" said the bosun
-abruptly.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Several of the sailors began counting.
-There was much turning round, a deal of
-whispered estimations. Every one appeared
-to be looking at everybody else. Finally a
-deep voice from a corner said:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Thirty-five."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Any one down for leave?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Some half dozen members of a gun crew
-just home from a long journey, called out
-that leave had been given them.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Anybody on sick list?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There was no answer. In the ensuing
-silence, the bosun checked off the answers
-on his list.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I suppose you all want to go out."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Sure!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Get in line." The bosun backed away,
-and looked with an official eye at the sturdy
-group.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"All here, pack up and stand by. At
-eleven o'clock have all your baggage at the
-drill office. I'll send a man up to get the mail."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The line broke up, keen for the coming
-adventure. Giles, the signalman, walked at a
-brisk pace to his quarters... You would
-have seen a lad of about twenty-two years
-of age, between medium height and tall, and
-unusually well built. Some years of wrestling&mdash;he
-had won distinction in this sport at
-school&mdash;had given him a tremendously powerful
-neck and chest, but with all the strength
-there was no suggestion of beefiness. The
-friendliest of brown eyes shone in the clean-cut,
-handsome head, he had a delightful smile,
-always a sign of good breeding. In habit he
-was industrious and persevering, in manner of
-life clean and true beyond reproach. Giles is
-an American sailor lad, a <i>real gob</i>, and I have
-described him at some length because of this
-same reality. The sooner we get to know our
-sailors the better.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Back in his quarters, he busied himself with
-packing his bag. Now packing one of those
-cylindrical bags is an art in itself. First of
-all, each garment must be folded or rolled
-in a certain way, the sleeve in this manner,
-the collar in that (it is all patiently taught
-at training stations) then the articles
-themselves must be placed within the bag in an
-orderly arrangement, and last of all, toilet
-articles and such gear must be stowed within
-convenient reach. A clean smell of freshly
-washed clothes and good, yellow, kitchen soap
-rose from the tidy bundles. In went an extra
-suit&mdash;"those trousers are real broadcloth,
-don't get 'em nowadays, none of that bum
-serge they're trying to wish on you," a packet
-of underwear tied and knotted with wonderful
-sailor knots, and last of all handkerchiefs,
-soap, and other minor impedimenta done up
-in blue and red bandanna handkerchiefs.
-You simply put the articles on the handkerchiefs
-and knot the four corners neatly over
-the top. There you have the sailor. Only at
-sea does one realize to what an extent the
-bandanna handkerchief is a boon to mankind.
-When the bag was packed, it was a triumph of
-industry and skill. Shouldering it, the sailor
-walked to the drill office. He was early. A
-good substantial luncheon had been prepared.
-There were plates of hearty sandwiches.
-Just before noon, a fleet of "buses" took
-them to the pier.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The day was clear but none too warm, and
-great buffeting salvos of dust-laden wind
-blew across the befouled and busy waters of
-the port. A young, almost boyish ensign
-gave each man his final orders, and a kind of
-identification slip for their captains. The
-sailors of the Guard, wearing reefers and with
-round hats jammed tightly on their heads,
-stood backed against a wind that curled the
-wide ends of their blue trousers close about
-their ankles. Presently, grimy, hot, and
-pouring out coils of brownish, choking smoke,
-a big ocean-going tug glided over to the wharf
-and took them aboard. Then bells ran,
-the propeller churned, and the tug turned her
-corded nose down the bay. The convoy lay
-at anchor at the very mouth of the roads.
-A miscellaneous lot of vessels, mostly of
-British registration; some new, some very,
-very old. The pick of the group was a fine
-large vessel with an outlandish Maori name;
-Giles heard later that she had just been
-brought over from New Zealand. The
-inevitable grimy-decked tankers and ammoniacal
-mule boat completed the lot. An American
-cruiser lay at the very head of the line, men
-could be seen moving about on her, and there
-was much washing flapping in the wind. The
-tug went from vessel to vessel, landing a
-signalman here, a gun crew there. One by one
-the lads clambered aboard to shouts of "See
-you later," and "Soak 'em one for me." Giles
-was almost the last man left aboard the
-tug. Presently he darted off busily to a
-clean little tramp camouflaged in tones of pink,
-grey, and rusty black. The tug slid alongside
-caressingly. There were more bells; a noise
-of churning of water. Over the side of the
-greater vessel leaned a number of the crew,
-a casual curiosity in their eyes. Seafaring
-men in dingy jerseys opening at the throat
-and showing hairy chests. A putty-faced
-ship's boy watched the show a little to one
-side. Presently an officer of the ship, young,
-deep-chested and with a freshly-healed,
-puckering, star-shaped wound at the left hand
-corner of his mouth, came briskly down the
-deck and stood by the head of the ladder.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Giles caught up his bag, clambered aboard,
-and reported. The officer brought him to the
-captain. Then when the formalities were over,
-the second mate took him in charge, and
-assigned the lad his quarters and his watches.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The convoy set sail the next morning just
-as a pale, cold, and unutterably laggard dawn
-rose over a sea stretching, vast and empty,
-to the clearly marked line of a distant and
-leaden horizon. The escorting cruiser, flying
-a number of flags, was the first to get under
-way; and behind her followed the merchantmen
-in their allotted positions, each ship
-flying its position flag.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Giles watched the departure from the
-bridge. Behind him the vast city rose silent
-above the harbour mist; ahead, rich in promise
-of adventure and romance, lay the great plain
-of the dark, the inhospitable, the unsullied, the
-heroic sea.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap31"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXXI
-<br /><br />
-GRAIN
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-This is "Idaho's" story. He told it to
-me when I met him coming home early
-this summer. We were crossing in a
-worthy old transatlantic which has since gone
-to the bottom, and Idaho, at his ease in the
-deserted smoking room, unfolded the
-adventure. "Idaho, U.S.N.," we called him that
-aboard, is a very real personage. I think he
-told me that he was eighteen years old,
-medium height, solidly built, wholesome looking.
-The leading characteristic of the young,
-open countenance is intelligence, an
-intelligence that has grown of itself behind those
-clear grey eyes, not a power that has grown
-from premature contact with the world.
-Until he joined the Navy, I imagine that
-Idaho knew little of the world beyond his own
-magnificent West. I consider him very well
-educated; he declares that preferring life on
-his father's ranch to knowledge, he cut high
-school after the second year. He is a great
-reader, and likes good, stirring poetry. He is
-an idealist, and stands by his ideals with a
-fervour which only youth possesses. And I
-ought to add that Idaho, in the words of one
-of his friends, is "one first-class signalman." This
-is Idaho's story, pieced together from his
-own recital, and from a handful of his letters.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The crowd aboard the naval tug was so
-festive that morning, and there was such a
-lot of scuffling, punching, imitation boxing
-and jollying generally that Idaho did not see
-the vessel to which he had been assigned till
-the tug was close alongside. Then, hearing
-his name called out, the lad caught up his
-baggage, and walked on into the open side of
-a vast, disreputable tramp. The lad later
-learned that she had been brought from
-somewhere in the China Sea. The <i>Sebastopol</i>,
-Heaven knows where she originally got the
-name, was a ship that had served her term
-in the west, had grown old and out of date,
-and then been purchased by some Oriental
-firm. Out there, she had carried on, always
-seaworthy in an old-fashioned way, always
-excessively dirty, always a day over due.
-When the submarine had made ships worth
-their weight in silver, the <i>Sebastopol</i> must have
-been almost on the point of giving up the
-ghost. Presently, the war brought the old
-ship back to England again. Her return to
-an English harbour must have resembled the
-return of a disreputable relative to an anxious
-family. And in England, in some tremendously
-busy shipyard, they had patched her
-up, added a modern electrical equipment and
-even gone to the length of new boilers. But
-her engines they had merely tuned up, and
-as for her ancient hull, that they had
-dedicated to the mercy of the gods of the sea.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Once aboard, and assigned to his station
-and watches, the lad had leisure to look over
-his companions. The <i>Sebastopol</i> carried a
-crew from Liverpool, and was officered by
-three Englishmen and a little Welsh third
-mate. The Captain, a first mate of many
-years' experience, to whom the war had given
-the chance of a ship, was in the forties; tall
-and with a thin, stern mouth under a heavy
-brown moustache; the first mate was a mere
-youngster: the second, a middle-aged volunteer,
-the third, an undersized, excitable Celt
-with grey eyes and coal black hair touched
-with snow white above the ears. The
-Welshman took a liking for Idaho; used to
-question him in regard to the West, being
-especially keen to know about "opportunities
-there after the war." He had a brother in
-Wales whom he thought might share in a farming
-venture. Of the captain the lad saw very
-little; and the first mate was somewhat on
-his dignity. Practically every man of the
-crew had been torpedoed at least once, many
-had been injured, and had scars to exhibit.
-All had picturesque tales to tell, the
-gruesomest ones being the favourites. The best
-narrator was a fireman from London, a man
-of thirty with a lean chest and grotesquely
-strong arms; he would sit on the edge of a
-bunk or a chair and tell of sudden thundering
-crashes, of the roaring of steam, of bodies
-lying on the deck over which one tripped as
-one ran, of water pouring into engine rooms,
-and of boilers suddenly vomiting masses of
-white hot coal upon dazed and scalded stokers.
-It was the melodrama of below the water
-line. Then for days the narrator would keep
-silent, troubled by a pain in one of his
-fragmentary teeth. All the men kept their few
-belongings tied in a bundle, ready to seize the
-instant trouble was at hand. The cook
-complained to Idaho that he had lost a gold
-watch when the <i>Lady Esther</i> was torpedoed
-off the coast of France, and advised him
-paternally to keep his things handy. One of the
-oilers, a good-natured fellow of twenty-eight
-or nine, had been a soldier, having been
-invalided out of the service because of wounds
-received late in the summer on the Somme.
-An interesting lot of men for an American
-boy to be tossed with, particularly for a lad
-as intelligent and observing as our Idaho.
-The boy was pleased with his job and worked
-well. He did not have very much to do.
-Signalling aboard a convoyed ship, though a
-frequent business, is not an incessant one. He
-knew that his work would come at the
-entrance to the zone. Sometimes he picked
-up messages intended for others. "<i>Mt. Ida</i>,
-you are out of line," "<i>Vulcanian</i>, keep
-strictly to the prescribed zigzag plan." Now
-he would see the <i>Sicilian</i> asking for advice;
-now there would be a kind of telegraphic
-tiff between two of the vessels of the "Keep
-further away, hang you" order. Twenty
-ships running without lights through the
-ambush of the sea, twenty ships, twenty pledges
-of life, satisfied hunger ... victory. In other
-days, one's world at sea was one's ship; a
-convoy is a kind of solar system of solitary
-worlds. Hour after hour, the assembled ships
-straggled across the great loneliness of the sea.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The crew had a grievance. It was not
-against their officers, but against his majesty's
-government, against "a bloody lot of top
-hats." A recent regulation had forbidden
-sailors to import food into the United
-Kingdom, and all the dreams of stocking up "the
-missus'" larder with American abundance had
-come to naught. Idaho says that there was
-an engineer who was particularly fierce.
-"Don't we risk our lives, I arsk yer," he would
-say, "bringing stuff to fill their ruddy guts,
-and now they won't even let us bring in a bit
-of sugar for ourselves." The rest of the crew
-would take up the angry refrain; a mention
-of the food regulations was enough to set the
-entire crew "grousing" for hours.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And then came trouble, real trouble.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-On the fifth day out Idaho, called for his
-early watch, found the boat wallowing in a
-heavy sea. The wind was not particularly
-heavy, but it blew steadily from one point
-of the compass, and the seas were running
-dark, wind-flecked, and high. The <i>Sebastopol</i>,
-accustomed to the calm of eastern seas, was
-pitching and rolling heavily. Presently the
-cargo began to shift. Now, to have the cargo
-shift is about the most dangerous thing that
-can happen to a vessel. One never can tell
-just when the centre of gravity of the mass will
-be displaced, and when that contingency
-occurs, the big iron ship will roll over as
-casually and as easily as a dog before the fire. It
-takes courage, plenty of courage, to keep such
-a ship running, especially if you are down by
-the boilers or in the engine room. You have
-to be prepared to find yourself lying in a
-corner somewhere looking up at a ceiling which,
-strange to say, has a door in it. The <i>Sebastopol</i>
-leaned away from the wind like a stricken
-man crouching before a pitiless enemy; the
-angle of her smokestack more than anything
-else betraying the alarming list. In her
-stricken condition, the ship seemed to become
-more than ever personal and human.
-Presently her old plates bulged somewhere and
-she began to leak.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The vessel carried a cargo of grain, in these
-days more than ever a cargo epical and symbolic;
-a holdful of rich grain, grain engendered
-out of fields vast as the sea, bred by the
-fruitful fire of the sun, rippled by the passing of
-winds from the mysterious hills, grain, symbolic
-of satisfied hunger, ... victory. A cargo
-of grain, life to those on land, to those on
-board, danger and the possibility of a violent
-if romantic death. The crew, too occupied
-with the emergency to curse the stevedores,
-ran hither and thither on swift, obscure
-errands. And the weather grew steadily worse,
-the leak increasing with the advance of the
-storm. Down below, meanwhile, a force of
-men hardly able to keep their balance,
-buffeted here and there by the motion of the
-ship, and working in an atmosphere of choking
-dust, transferred a number of bags from one
-side to another. Unhappily, the real mischief
-was due to grain in bins, and with this store
-little could be done. And always the water
-in the hold increased in depth.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The pumps, orders had been given to
-start them directly the leak was noticed.
-Three minutes later, the machinery and the
-pipes, fouled with grain, refused to work.
-They saw bubbles, steam, a trickle of water
-that presently stopped, and lumps of wet grain
-that some one might have chewed together,
-and spat forth again. Idaho did a lot of
-signalling in code to the guide ship of the convoy.
-The <i>Sebastopol</i> began to drop behind. An order
-being given to sleep up on the boat deck so
-as to be ready to leave at any instant, the
-men dragged their bedding to whatever shelter
-they could find. The captain appeared never
-to take any time off for sleep. Day after day,
-through heavy seas, under a sky torn and
-dirty as a rag, the old <i>Sebastopol</i> listing badly
-and sodden as cold porridge, carried her
-precious cargo to the waiting and hungry east.
-Giving up all hope of keeping up with her
-sisters, she fell behind, now straggling ten,
-now fifteen miles astern. At length the
-weather changed; the sea became smooth,
-blue and sparkling, the sky radiant and clear.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Then the destroyers came. There was a
-parley, and the other vessels of the convoy
-zigzagged wildly for a while in order to allow
-the <i>Sebastopol</i> to catch up. But in spite of all
-attempts, the old ship fell behind again and
-was suffered to do so, lest the others,
-compelled to adopt her slow speed, be seriously
-handicapped in their race down the gauntlet.
-Then it was discovered that the leak had
-gained alarmingly; there was even talk of
-abandoning the vessel and taking to the boats.
-A try was made to pump out the boat with
-an ancient hand engine. The contrivance
-clogged almost at once. According to Idaho,
-it was much like trying to pump out a thick
-bran mash such as they give sick calves.
-And they were only two days from land.
-Barely afloat, just crawling, and with the
-submarine zone ahead of them.... But the gods
-were kind, and the old boat and the solitary
-destroyer went down the Channel and across
-the Irish Sea as safely as clockwork toys
-across a garden pool. Yet they passed quite
-a tidy lot of wreckage. Nearer ... nearer
-all the time, till late one afternoon two big
-tugs raced to meet them at the mouth of a
-giant estuary. The <i>Sebastopol</i> was at the
-end of her tether. Another day, and it would
-have been a case of taking to the boats.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The tugs hurried her into a waiting dry
-dock.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Idaho, his papers signed, his bag upon his
-shoulder, got into a little tender which was
-to take him over to the harbour landing.
-Looking up, he saw some of the crew leaning
-over the rail.... They grinned with friendly,
-soot-streaked faces, waved their arms....
-The <i>Sebastopol</i> was safe, the rich cargo of
-grain, the life-giving yellow grain was safe....
-The tug slid off into the busy, noisy
-riverway.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And thus came Idaho of the Armed Guard
-to the Beleaguered Isles.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap32"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXXII
-<br /><br />
-COLLISION
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-"......Regret to report collision in latitude x and
-longitude y between tank steamships <i>Tampico</i> and
-<i>Peruvian</i>......"&mdash;<i>Extract from an Admiralty paper</i>.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-When supper was over, the two
-sailors of the Armed Guard attached
-to the ship went out on deck for a
-breath of evening air. It was just after
-sundown, a clean calm rested upon the monstrous
-plain of the sea; one golden star shone tranquil
-and lonely in the west. The convoy was
-almost at the border of the zone. To the left
-the lads could see the twin funnels of the big
-grain ship; the tattered, befouled horse boat,
-the little, rolling tramp said to be full of
-T.N.T., and the long low bulks and squat
-houses of the two tanks.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Whoever's on that tramp is some bird at
-signals," said the bigger of the boys, my friend
-"Pop." "Generally starts to answer my
-signal before I'm through. Know who's aboard
-her, Robbie?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I think it's that big new guy from the
-Pennsylvania" answered Robbie, meditatively.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Dalton's on the horse boat, isn't he?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Sure, either he or Ricci. Pete Johnson's
-on the first tank, and that fresh little Rogers
-guy's on the other."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There was a pause. Pop spat with unction
-over the side.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Suddenly their vessel entered a fog bank,
-passing through a detached island or two of
-it before plunging on into the central mass.
-The convoy instantly faded from sight.
-Every now and then, out of the wall of grey
-ahead, a little swirl of fog detached itself, and
-floating down the darkening deck, melted into
-the opaque obscurity behind. Drops of
-moisture began to gather on the lower surface of
-the brass rails of the companion ways; wires
-grew slippery to the touch; little worm-like
-trails of over-laden drops slid mechanically
-down sloping surfaces. The fog, thickening,
-flowed alongside like a vaporous current.
-Overhead, however, the sky was fairly clear,
-though the greater stars shone aureoled and
-pale. There was very little sound, merely
-the steady hissing of the calm water alongside,
-occasional voices heard in a tone of
-consultation,&mdash;the heavy slam of a door. An
-hour passed. The fog showed no sign of
-lifting, seeming rather to become of denser
-substance with the dark. Pop was glad
-that there was no ship following directly
-behind, and wondered if the others were
-dragging fog buoys. The ship's bell rang
-muffled and morne in the fog. Suddenly,
-out of the clinging darkness, out of the
-oppressive obscurity, there came, momentary,
-brazen, and incredibly distant a dull and
-muffled sound. So far away and mysterious
-was its source that the sound might have been
-imagined as coming from the dark beyond
-the stars. An instant later, as if the only
-purpose of its mysterious existence had been
-to sink a tanker, the fog melted into the
-night, and a little wind, a little, timid,
-trembling breath brushed the great plume of smoke
-from the funnel lightly aside. A bright
-starlit night came into being as if by
-enchantment, as if created out of the fog by the
-intervention of divine will.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The motionless black shapes of the colliding
-tankers could be seen far, far astern.
-After the crash, they had drifted apart. The
-wireless was crackling, blinker lights flashed
-their dots and dashes of violet white, a
-whistle blew. "Am standing by," came a
-message. The chief of the convoy sent out
-a peremptory command. Presently a light
-appeared on one of the vessels, a little rosy
-glow like a Chinese lantern. The glow sank,
-disappeared, and rose again, having gathered
-strength. One of the tankers was on fire.
-Soon a second glow appeared close by its
-stern. A glow of warm, rosy orange. In a
-few minutes they could see tongues of fire,
-and two boats rowing away from the vessel.
-They did not know that the men in the boats
-were rowing for their lives through a pool of
-oil which might take fire at any instant. A
-few minutes passed; the light grew brighter.
-Suddenly, there was a kind of flaming burst:
-a great victory of fire. The tanker, well
-down by the head, floated flaming in an ocean
-that was itself a flame, floated black, silent,
-and doomed to find an ironic grave in
-the waters under the fire. Great masses of
-smoke rose from the burning pool into the
-serene sky, and hid the vessel when she sank.
-Half an hour later, a little, rosy light lay
-at the horizon's rim. Suddenly, like a lamp
-blown out, it died.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap33"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXXIII
-<br /><br />
-THE RAID BY THE RIVER
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-The convoy of merchantmen, after a
-calm, quite uneventful voyage across
-the ambushed sea, put into a port on
-the Channel for the night, and the following
-morning dispersed to their various harbours.
-Some sort of coast patrol boat "not much
-bigger than an Admiral's launch," the words
-are those of my friend Steve Holzer of the
-Armed Guard, took the S.S. <i>Snowdon</i> under
-her metaphorical wing, and brought her up
-the Thames. This <i>Snowdon</i> was one of a
-fleet of twelve spry little tramps named for
-the principal mountains of the kingdom, a
-smart, well-equipped, well-ordered product of
-the Tyne. Steve, quick, clever, and alert,
-had got along capitally with the "limeys." His
-particular pals were a pair of twin lads
-about his own age, young, English, blond, and
-grey-eyed; young, slow to understand a joke,
-honest, good-tempered, and sincere. I have
-seen the postcard photograph of themselves
-which they gave Steve as a parting gift.
-Steve himself is a Yankee from the word go,
-a genuine Yankee from somewhere along the
-coast of Maine. He stands somewhat below
-medium height, is lean-faced and lean-bodied;
-his eyes twinkle with a shrewd good humour.
-A great lad. He tells me that his people have
-been seafaring folk for generations.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The <i>Snowdon</i>, escorted by her tiny guard,
-ran down the coast, entered the Thames estuary,
-passed the barriers, and finally resigned
-herself to the charge of a tug. Late in the
-afternoon, the mass of London began to
-enclose them, they became conscious of strange,
-somewhat foul, land smells; the soot in the
-air irritated their nostrils. The ship was
-docked close after dusk. The feeling of
-satisfaction which seizes on the hearts of
-seamen who have successfully brought a ship
-into port entered into their bosoms;
-everybody was happy, happy in the retrospect of
-achievement, in the prospect of peace,
-security, good pay, and good times.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Their vessel lay in a basin just off a great
-bend in the river, in a kind of gigantic concrete
-swimming pool bordered with steel arc-light
-poles planted in rows like impossibly perfect
-trees. To starboard, through another row
-of arc poles and over a wall of concrete, they
-could see the dirty majesty of the great brown
-river and the square silhouetted bulks of the
-tenements and warehouses on the other side.
-To port, lay a landing stage some two hundred
-feet wide, backed by a huge warehouse over
-whose dingy roof two immense chimneys towered
-like guardians. The space stank of horse;
-the river had lost the clean smell of the sea,
-and breathed a reek of humanity and inland
-mire. A mean cobbled-stone street led from
-a corner of the landing space past wretched
-tenements, fried fish shops, and pawnbrokers'
-windows exhibiting second rate nautical
-instruments, concertinas, and fraternal emblems.
-It was all surprisingly quiet.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Steve, hospitably invited to remain aboard,
-went to the starboard rail and stood studying
-the river. The last smoky light had ebbed
-from the sky; night, rich and strewn with
-autumnal stars, hung over the gigantic city,
-and a moon just passing the first quarter hung
-close by the meridian, and shone reflected
-in the pool-like basin and the river's moving
-tide. One of the huge chimneys suddenly
-assumed a great, creamy-curling plume of
-smoke which dissolved mysteriously into the
-exhalations of the city. From down in the
-crew's quarters came the musical squeals
-of a concertina, and occasional voices whose
-words could but rarely be distinguished. The
-arc lights by the basin edge suddenly flowered
-into a dismal glow of whitish yellow light
-strangled by the opaque hoods and under
-cups affixed by the anti-aircraft regulations.
-Another concertina sounded further down the
-street. The moonlight, like a kind of supernal
-benediction, fell on smokestack and funnel,
-on shining grey wire and solemn, rusted
-anchor, on burnished capstan and finger
-smoutched door. Heat haze, flowing in a
-swift and glassy river, shone above the
-smokestack in the moon.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Suddenly, Steve heard down the street
-a sustained note from something on the order
-of a penny whistle, and an instant later, a
-window was flung up, and a figure leaned out.
-It was too dark to see whether it was a man
-or a woman. Then the same whistle was
-blown again several times as if by a conscientious
-boy, and a factory siren with a sobbing
-human cry rose over the warehouses. At
-the same moment, the lights about the dock
-flickered, clicked, and died. There was a
-confused noise of steps behind, there were
-voices&mdash;"Hey, listen!" "Wot's that?" the
-last in pure cockney, and a questioning,
-doubting Thomas voice said: "A raid?" The
-figure of the captain was seen on the bridge.
-One of the ships' boys went hurrying round,
-doing something or other, probably closing
-doors. The twins strolled over to Steve, and
-informed him in the most casual manner that
-they were in for a raid. It was Steve's first
-introduction to British unemotionalism, and
-I imagine that it rather let him down. He
-says that he himself was "right up on his
-tiptoes." He also had a notion that bombs
-would begin to rain from the sky directly
-after the warning. The twins soon made it
-clear, however, that the warning was given
-when the raiders were picked up on the east
-coast, and that there was generally some
-twenty minutes or half an hour to wait before
-"the show" began. Every once in a while,
-somebody in the group would steal a look
-at the pale worlds beyond the serried chimney
-pots and at the moon, guiltless accomplice
-of the violence and imbecilities of men.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Presently, a number of star shells burst
-in fountains of coppery bronze. Every hatch
-covered, every port and window sealed, the
-<i>Snowdon</i> awaited the coming of the raiders.
-Whistles continued to be heard, faint and far
-away. From no word, tone, or gesture of
-that English crew could one have gathered
-that they were in the most dangerous quarter
-of the city. For the one indispensable element
-of a London raid is the attack on the waterfront,
-the attack on the ships, the ships of
-wood, the ships of steel, the hollow ships
-through which imperial Britain lives.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There is little to be seen in a London raid
-unless you happen to be close by something
-struck by a bomb. The affair is almost
-entirely a strange and terrible movement of
-sound, a rising, catastrophic tide of sound,
-a flood of thundering tumult, a slow and sullen
-ebb.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"There! 'Ear that?" said some one.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Far away, on the edge of the Essex marshes
-and the moon-lit sea, a number of anti-aircraft
-guns had picked up the raiders. The air
-was full of a faint, sullen murmur, continuous
-as the roar of ocean on a distant beach.
-Searchlight beams, sweeping swift and mechanical,
-appeared over London, the pale rays searching
-the black islands between the dimmed
-constellations like figures of the blind. They
-descended, rose, glared, met, melted together.
-The sullen roaring grew louder and nearer,
-no longer a blend, but a sustained crescendo
-of pounding sounds and muffled crashes. A
-belated star shell broke, and was reflected
-in the river. A police boat passed swiftly
-and noiselessly, a solitary red spark floating
-from her funnel as she sped. The roaring
-gathered strength, the guns on the
-coast were still; now, one heard the guns
-on the inland moors, the guns in the fields
-beyond quiet little villages, the guns lower
-down the river&mdash;they were following the
-river&mdash;now the guns in the outer suburbs,
-now the guns in the very London spaces,
-ring, crash, tinkle, roar, pound! The great
-city flung her defiance at her enemies. Steve
-became so absorbed in the tumult that he
-obeyed the order to take shelter below quite
-mechanically. A new sound came screaming
-into their retreat, a horrible kind of whistling
-zoom, followed by a heavy pound. Steve
-was told that he had heard a bomb fall.
-"Somewhere down the river." Nearer,
-instant by instant, crept the swift, deadly
-menace. A lonely fragment of an anti-aircraft
-shell dropped clanging on the steel deck.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You see," explained one of the twins in
-the careful passionless tone that he would
-have used in giving street directions to a
-stranger, "the Huns are on their way up the
-river, dropping a kettle on any boat that looks
-like a good mark, and trying to set the docks
-afire. The docks always get it. Listen!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There was a second "zoom," and a third
-close on its heels.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Those are probably on the <i>Ætna</i> basins,"
-said the other twin. "Their aim's beastly
-rotten as a rule. If this light were out, we
-might be able to see something from a hatchway.
-Mr. Millen (the first mate) makes an
-awful fuss if he finds any one on deck." "I
-know what's what, let's go to the galley, there's
-a window that can't be shut." ... The three
-lads stole off. Beneath a lamp turned down
-to a bluish-yellow flame, the older seaman
-waited placidly for the end of the raid, and
-discussed, sailor fashion, a hundred irrelevant
-subjects. The darkened space grew chokingly
-thick with tobacco smoke. And the truth
-of it was that every single sailor in there knew
-that the last two bombs had fallen on the
-<i>Ætna</i> basins, and that the <i>Snowdon</i> would
-be sure to catch it next. By a trick of
-the gods of chance, the vessel happened to
-be alone in the basin, and presented a
-shining mark. The lads reached the galley
-window.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-By crowding in, shoulder to shoulder, they
-could all see. The pool and its concrete wall
-were hidden; the window opened directly
-on the river. Presently came a lull in the
-tumult, and during it, Steve heard a low,
-monotonous hum, the song of the raiding
-planes. More fragments of shrapnel fell
-upon the deck. The moon had travelled
-westward, and lay, large and golden, well clear
-of the town. The winter stars, bright and
-inexorable, had advanced ... the city was
-fighting on. Suddenly, the three boys heard
-the ominous aerial whistle, one of the twins
-slammed the window to, and an instant
-later there was a sound within the dark little
-galley as if somebody had touched off an
-enormous invisible rocket, ... a frightful
-"zoom," and impact ... silence. They
-guessed what had happened. A bomb intended
-for the <i>Snowdon</i> had fallen in the river.
-Later somewhere on land was heard a thundering
-crash which shook the vessel violently.
-A pan or something of the kind hanging on
-the galley wall fell with a startling crash.
-"Get out of there, you boys," called the cook.
-Ship's galleys are sacred places, and are to
-be respected even in air raids. And then
-even more slowly and gradually than it
-had gathered to a flood, the uproar ebbed.
-The firing grew spasmodic, ceased within
-the city limits, lingered as a distant
-rumble from the outlying fields, and finally
-died away altogether. The sailors, released
-by a curt order, came on deck. The top
-of the concrete wall was splashed and mottled
-with dark puddles and spatters of water.
-All agreed that the bomb had fallen
-"bloody close." The peace of the abyss
-rules above. Far down the river, there was
-an unimportant fire.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Said Steve&mdash;"I certainly was sore when I
-didn't have any excitement on the way over
-in the convoy, but after that night in the
-<i>Snowdon</i>, I decided that being with the Armed
-Guard let you in for some real stuff. It's
-a great service."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-With which opinion all who know the Guard
-will agree.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap34"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-XXXIV
-<br /><br />
-ON HAVING BEEN BOTH A SOLDIER AND A SAILOR
-</h3>
-
-<p>
-When this cruel war is over, and the
-mad rounds of parades, banquets and
-reunions begin, I shall immediately
-set to work to organize the most exclusive
-of clubs. A mocking and envious friend suggests
-that our uniform consist of a white sailor
-hat, a soldier's tunic, British, French, or
-American according to the flags under which
-we served, and a pair of sailor trousers with
-an extra wide flare. For the club is to be
-composed of those fortunate souls who like myself
-have seen "the show" on land and on sea.
-To my mind, however, instead of mixing the
-uniforms, it would be better to dress in khaki
-when we feel military; in blue when our
-temperament is nautical. Think of belonging
-to a club whose members can dissect a
-trench mortar with ease and at the same time
-say: "Three points off the port bow" without
-turning a hair. I should admit marines only
-after a special consideration of each case. Not
-that I don't admire the marines. I do. I
-yield to no one in my admiration of our gallant
-"devil dogs." But the applicant for admission
-to our club must have first served as a bona
-fide soldier and then as a bona fide sailor or
-vice versa. Not that I am a sailor or ever
-was a sailor in Uncle Sam's Navy. All that
-I can claim to have been is a correspondent
-attached to the Navy "over there." But
-four months' service, most of it spent at sea
-on the destroyers, subs, and battleships
-entitles me, I think, to membership,
-consequently, being president, I have admitted
-myself.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well, you've seen the war both on land
-and on sea; which service do you prefer
-... the army or the Navy?" This question is
-hurled at me everywhere I go. I answer it
-with deliberation, enjoying the while to
-the full the consciousness of being an
-extraordinary person, a sort of literary Æneas,
-<i>multum jactatus et terris et alto</i>. And I answer
-briefly:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The Navy."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I hasten to add, however, that you will find
-my answer coloured by a passion for the
-beauty and the mystery of the sea with
-which some good spirit endowed me in my
-cradle. I was born in one of the most historic
-of New England seacoast towns where brine
-was anciently said to flow through the veins
-of the inhabitants. On midsummer days the
-fierce heat distils from the cracked, caked
-mud of tidal meadows the clean, salty smell
-of the unsullied sea; dark ships, trailing far
-behind them long, dissolving plumes of smoke,
-weave in and out between the tawny, whale-backed
-islands of the bay, and tame little sea
-birds almost the colour of the shingle run
-along at the edge of the in-coming tide. So
-I admit a bias for the service of the sea.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Does the Navy demand as much of the sailor
-as the Army does of the soldier? A vexed
-question. The Army, comparing grimly its
-own casualty lists with the Navy's occasional
-roll sometimes imagines naturally enough
-that the sailor lives, as the old hymn has it,
-"on flowery beds of ease." As a whole there
-is no denying that living conditions are far
-better in the naval service, though much
-depends on the boat to which the sailor is
-assigned. A soldier in the trenches sleeps in
-his clothes, so does a sailor on a destroyer or
-a patrol boat, and I do not believe that I felt
-much more comfortable at the end of a long
-trip in an old destroyer during which the vessel
-rolled, pitched, tossed, careened, stood on
-her head, sat on her tail and buckled than I
-did after a week or so at the front. Certainly,
-there was little to choose between the
-overcrowded living quarters of the sailors and a
-decent "dug-out." True, the "Toto," alias
-greyback, alias "Cootie" or his occasional
-but less famous accomplice the "crimson
-rambler" does not infest a Navy ship. How
-many times have I not heard Army folk say
-in heartfelt tones, "Those Navy people can
-keep <i>clean</i>." But a truce to the Cootie.
-Much more has been made of him than he
-deserves. During the first six months of the
-war the creature was in evidence, but after
-the hostilities began to limit themselves to
-the trench swathe, and this localizing war
-made possible a stable system of hospitals,
-cantonments and baths, the Cootie became
-as rare as a day in June and to have such guest
-was an indication of abysmally bad luck
-or personal uncleanliness. Moreover, a little
-gasoline begged from a lorry driver and
-sprinkled on one's clothes confers unconditional
-immunity. Consider the crew of a submarine.
-They do not have to splash about in a gulley
-of smelly mud the consistency of thick soup,
-or wander down alleyways of red brown mud,
-so cheesy that it sticks to the boots till one
-no longer lifts feet from the ground, but
-shapeless, heavy, thrice cussed lumps of mire.
-No one has yet risen to sing the epic of the
-mud of France; yet 'tis the soul of the war.
-The submarine sailors are spared the mud,
-but they live in a sealed cylinder into which
-sunlight does not penetrate, live in the close
-atmosphere of a garage; they can not get
-exercise or change clothes. A submarine
-crew that has had a hard time of it looks
-quite as worn out as soldiers just out of battle
-and their colour is far worse. And if there
-is a more heroic service than this submarine
-patrol, I should like to know of it.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And now the army in me rises to protest.
-"I admit," says the military voice, "that
-service on ships may be a confounded sight
-more disagreeable than I had imagined, but
-the sailor has a chance when he gets to port
-of changing his uniform, whilst a poor lad
-of a soldier must fight, eat, and sleep in the
-same old uniform, and must limit his changes
-to a change of underclothes."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-True, oh military spirit. Civilian, and thou,
-too, oh sailor, do you know what it is to be
-confined, to be wedded, without jest, "till
-death do us part" to <i>one</i> suit. One faithful,
-persistent, necessary uniform and <i>one</i> only.
-Two-thirds of the joy of permission is the pleasure
-of getting out of a dirty, stale, besweated
-uniform. Heaven bless, Heaven shower a
-Niagara of happiness on those kindly ladies
-who sent us supplies of socks and jerseys!
-Don't be content to knit Johnny socks and
-a sweater, keep on knitting him a number of
-them, and send them over at intervals. The
-dandies of a section used to leave extra
-clothes in villages behind the lines. Alas,
-sometimes, the group, after service "<i>aux
-tranchées</i>" was not marched back to the
-same village, and it was difficult to get
-permission to visit the other village, even were it
-near. Such expedients, however, are for
-luxurious times. Quite often there are no
-habitable villages for miles behind the lines, or else
-the civilian inhabitants have been ruthlessly
-warned away. In such circumstances there
-is no clean cache of clothes to be left behind
-in Madame's closet. But the sailor
-... though he returns as grimy as a printers'
-devil and as bearded as a comic tramp, there
-is always a clean suit of "liberty blues" in
-his bag, and to-morrow, clad in the handsomest
-of all naval uniforms, he will be found
-ashore, breaking fair British or Irish hearts.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I have tried to show that in the judgment
-of an ex-soldier, the difference between the
-life of a sailor in a fighting ship and the life
-of a soldier in a fighting regiment is by no
-means as great as it has been imagined.
-The army, I suppose, will grumble at such
-a pronunciamento. Let an objector, then,
-try being a lookout man all winter long on
-a destroyer ... or try firing a while. All is
-not quite purgatorial even at the front. Most
-army men know of quiet places along the line
-held on our side by rubicund, wine-bibbing,
-middle-aged French "territoriaux," <i>bons pères
-de famille</i> who show you pictures of Etienne
-and Maurice; and garrisoned on the enemy's
-border by fat old Huns who want very, very
-much to get home to their great pipe and
-steaming sauerkraut. In such places each
-side apologizes for the bad taste of their
-supporting artillery, whilst grenade throwing
-is regarded as the bottom level of viciousness.
-Once in a while people die there of old age,
-gout, or chronic liver. No one is ever killed.
-Such "ententes cordiales" were far more
-frequent than those behind the line have ever
-suspected. On the other hand, some twenty
-miles down the trench swathe there may be
-a hillock constantly contested, a strategic
-point which burns up the lives of men as
-casually as the sustaining of a fire consumes
-faggots. Now it is the quick, merciful bullet
-in the head, now the hot, whizzing éclat of
-a high explosive, now the earthquake of the
-subterranean mine. But after all, a mine
-at sea is no more gentle than one on land, and
-to have a mine exploded under him is perhaps
-the eventuality which a soldier fears more
-than anything else. On land, the thundering
-release of a giant breath from out of the earth,
-a monstrous pall of fragments of soil, stones,
-and dust ... perhaps of fragments more
-ghastly, at sea, a thundering pound, a column
-of water which seems to stand upright for
-a second or two and then falls crashing on
-whatever is left of the vessel. <i>Quelle monde!</i>
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There is a distinct difference between the
-psychology of the soldier and that of the sailor.
-A soldier of any army is sure to be drilled, and
-drilled, and drilled again till he becomes what
-he ought to be, a cog in an immense machine
-scientifically designed for the release of
-violence; a sailor, drilled scientifically enough
-but not so machinally, preserves some of the
-ancient freedom of the sea. Then, too,
-the soldier with his bayonet is a fighting force;
-the sailor, though prepared for it, himself
-rarely fights, but works a fighting mechanism,
-... the ship. The battleship X may sink
-the cruiser Y, but there is rarely a "<i>corps a
-corps</i>" such as takes place for instance in a
-disputed shell crater. Thus removed from
-the baser brutalities of war, the sailor never
-reveals that vein of Berserker savagery which
-soldiers will often reveal in a conquered
-province. As a class, sailors are the best-natured,
-good-hearted souls in the world. Rough some
-may be, some may be scamps, but brutal,
-never. Moreover, living under a discipline
-easier to bear than the soldiers, Jack has not
-the sullen streaks that overtake betimes men
-under arms. Of course, he grumbles, enlisted
-men are not normal if they don't grumble,
-but Jack's grumbling is as nothing compared
-to the fierce, smothered hate for things in
-general which every soldier sometimes feels.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I would follow the sea, because I am a
-lover of the mystery and beauty of the sea,
-and because my comrades would be sailormen.
-I would knock at the Navy's door because,
-after all is said and done, the naval power is
-the ultima ratio of this titanic affair. I
-have seen many of the great scenes of this war,
-among them Verdun on the first night of the
-historic battle, but nothing that I saw on land
-impressed me as did my first view of the
-British Grand Fleet in its northern harbour,
-... the dark ships, the hollow ships, rulers
-of the past, rulers of the future, unconquered
-and unconquerable.
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-H.B.B.
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
- The Parson Capen House,<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Topsfield, 1919.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="t3">
-END
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="t3">
- THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS<br />
- GARDEN CITY, N.Y.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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