A Gunner Aboard the "Yankee" Part 2

"The blamed thing is spooky!" he howled, as he gathered himself together. He made a quick run for the ladder leading on deck, but was stopped by the master-at-arms, who demanded an explanation. While they were arguing, "Bill" and I quickly fixed the hammock, casting off the sh.e.l.l and concealing it behind a black bag. We had barely finished when the chief petty officer came up and examined the clews. He tested them by applying his own weight, then gave the crestfallen and astounded Potter a few terse words of advice about eating too much supper. Five minutes later the deck was quiet.

The hard labor of the previous day--such labor as hauling and pulling, handling heavy boxes and casks, and bales and barrels of provisions and ammunition--had made me dead tired, and I slept like a log until reveille. This unpleasant function occurred at three bells (half-past five o'clock), and it consisted of an infernal hubbub of drums and bugles and boatswains' pipes, loud and discordant enough to awaken the seven sleepers. We roused in a hurry, and, with eyes scarcely open, began to lash up our hammocks.

"Seven turns, no more, no less," bawled the master-at-arms. "Get just seven turns of the lashing around your hammocks, and get 'em quick. If you can't pa.s.s your hammock through a foot ring, you'll go on the report. Shake a leg there!"

The rumor had gone about that it was the custom to "swat" the last man with a club, and there was a great scramble. We found the hammock stowers in the nettings, which were large boxes on the gun deck, and our queer canvas beds were soon stowed away for the day. As the reveille hour is too early for breakfast, coffee and hard-tack is served out by each mess cook. The coffee is minus milk, but it is hot and palatable, and really acts as a tonic.

The first order of the day is to scrub down decks and clean ship generally, but, as the "Yankee" was still in the throes of preparation, we were spared that disagreeable work and permitted to arrange our belongings for the long voyage before us. In the service each man is allowed a black bag about three feet six inches high, and twelve inches in diameter, and a small wooden box, eighteen inches square, known as a "ditty box," to keep his wardrobe in. All clothing is rolled, and careful sailors generally wrap each garment in a piece of muslin before consigning it to the black bag. In the ditty box are kept such articles as toothbrush, brush and comb, small hand gla.s.s, writing material, and odds and ends. Each bag and box is numbered, and must be kept in a certain place. At first we thought it wouldn't be possible to keep our clothing in such a small s.p.a.ce, but experience taught us that we would have ample room.

The following days until the eighth of May were days of manual labor, which hardened our muscles and placed a fine edge on our appet.i.tes. To see the men who had been accustomed to a life of luxury toiling away with rope and scrubbing brush and paint pot, working like day laborers, and happy at that, was really a remarkable spectacle. For my part, I noticed with surprise that scratched and bruised hands--scratched so that the salt water caused positive pain--did not appeal to me. I tore off a corner of my right thumb trying to squeeze a large box through the forward hatch, and the only treatment I gave it was a fragment of rather soiled rag and a little vaseline borrowed from a mate. To quit work and apply for the first aid to injured never struck me. Ash.o.r.e I would probably have called a doctor.

The day before we left the yard one of my mates sprained his back lifting a box of canned meat. In civil life he had been a lawyer with a promising practice, his office being with one of the best known men of the bar. He gave it up and joined the Naval Reserves because, as he expressed it, "To fight for one's country is a patriot's first duty."

When the accident happened, he refused to go below to the sick bay until the doctor stated that rest for a few days at least was absolutely necessary.

"It isn't that I mind the hurt, boys," he said, with a smile, as he was a.s.sisted to the hatch, "but I hate to be knocked out in my first engagement, and that with a box of canned corned beef."

The monotony of work was broken on the ninth of May, when preparations were made to leave the yard. The destination was only Tompkinsville, but there was not a man on board but felt that, as the last hawser was cast off, we were fairly started on our cruise in search of action. As the "Yankee" was a.s.sisted away from the wharf by a Government tug, a number of friends gathered ash.o.r.e cheered l.u.s.tily and waved their hats and handkerchiefs. The scene had been repeated time without end, no doubt, but it went to our hearts all the same, and there was many a husky note in the cheers we gave in return.

There was also encouragement in the whistles we received as we dropped down the East River, and we felt as if our small share in the war would be appreciated by those compelled to stay at home. We steamed directly to the vicinity of Fort Wadsworth, Staten Island, anch.o.r.ed off Tompkinsville, and then picked up a berth there for the night. Half way down the bay we met a tug carrying a committee from the "Sons of the Revolution" of New York State. The committee had been selected by the society to present us with a set of colors. The tug accompanied us to our anchorage, then the committee came on board. The ceremony of presentation was rather picturesque.

The visitors gathered on the bridge, the ship's bugler sounded the a.s.sembly, and in obedience to the call we lined up on the forward deck.

We wore the white duck service uniform, including trousers, jumper, and cap. Some of the uniforms had suffered in contact with pitch, but the general effect was good. When everything was in readiness, the chairman of the committee presented the set of colors and said:

"Captain Brownson, officers and men of the 'Yankee,' I have the honor, on behalf of the Society of the Sons of the Revolution in the State of New York, to present these colors to the members of the Naval Reserve of the State of New York, who have enlisted for service under your command."

He continued by hoping that the colors would ever float victorious, and said that he did not doubt it, and then our skipper made a little speech in reply. The affair wound up with a round of cheers and general congratulations. The flags were handsome, and, as it came to pa.s.s, they flaunted amid battle smoke before many weeks.

Our stay off Tompkinsville was to be short, but we had time to become acquainted with a characteristic naval oddity known as the b.u.mboat.

Diligent inquiries among the old sailors on board the "Yankee" failed to enlighten me as to the derivation of the name, but the consensus of opinion was that these floating peddlers sold articles which, to use a slang phrase, were pretty "b.u.m." Experience has given the opinion some color of truth. Our b.u.mboat boarded us early and stayed with us until the corporal of the guard called "time."

She came laden with pies and doughnuts, pins and needles, tape and b.u.t.tons and whisk brooms and shoe blacking, handkerchiefs, ties, scissors, soap, writing paper, envelopes, ink, pens, cakes, bread, jelly, pocket knives, and a schedule of prices that would have brought a blush of envy to the face of a Swiss inn-keeper. As the boys had not yet grown entirely accustomed to what is called "Government straight," i.e., salt meat and hard-tack, the b.u.mboat did a thriving business. Young Potter's bill was tremendous, and Mrs. b.u.mboat bade him a regretful farewell when she visited us for the last time.

At three in the afternoon of the tenth we hoisted anchor on our way to sea. Our good friends had not deserted us, and a number of them, aboard several tugs, accompanied us as far as the Narrows. The "G.o.d-speed"

given us as we steamed away would have been a fine object lesson to our future antagonists.

Up to the present we had been concerned simply with the preparations for war, but it was destined that before another twenty-four hours had pa.s.sed we would have a taste of the actual realities.

The "Yankee" was to see service.

CHAPTER III.

IN WHICH THE "YANKEE" CRUISES FOR PRIZES.

It was evening, the evening of the day on which the "Yankee" sailed from Tompkinsville bound out on her maiden cruise as an auxiliary ship of war. The afternoon had pa.s.sed without event, save that which attacks the amateur sailor when he first feels the heaving swell of old ocean. The crew had shaken into its place, and the men of the watch on deck were commencing to appreciate their responsibilities.

The ship was quiet, save for the faint chug-chug of the propeller under the stern and the occasional clang of a shovel in the fire room deep down in the innermost reaches of the ship. The sun had vanished in a hazy cloud which portended a stiff breeze, but the wind was still gentle, and, as it swept across the decks from off the port quarter, it seemed grateful indeed to those who came from below for a breath of air.

Orders had been issued to darken the decks. The running lights of red and green were still in the lamp room, and, except for a soft, rosy glow from the binnacle-bowl, there was a blackness of night throughout the upper part of the ship. Cigars and pipes and cigarettes had been tabooed, and doors were opened in the deck houses only after the inside lights had been lowered to a flickering pin point.

Up on the forward bridge Captain Brownson stood talking in a low voice to the executive officer, Lieutenant Hubbard. The lurching swing of the ship caused them to sway back and forth against the rail and a metallic sound came from a sword scabbard suspended from the captain's belt. The presence of this sword, betrayed by the clatter it made, told a secret to several sailors gathered under the lee of the pilot house, and one said, in an excited whisper:

"There's something up, Chips. The old man is fixed for trouble. I'm going aft and stand by."

The speaker started off, but before he had taken ten steps the shrill blast of a bugle suddenly broke the stillness of the night. The discordant notes rang and echoed through the ship, and, while the sound was still trembling in the air, two score of shadowy figures sprang up from different parts of the deck and scurried toward the ladders leading below.

The transformation was instant and complete.

From a ship stealthily pursuing its way through the darkness--a part of the mist--the "Yankee" became the theatre of a scene of the most intense activity.

There was no shouting, no great clamor of sound; nothing but the peculiar shuffling of shoes against iron, the hard panting of hurrying men, the grating of breech-blocks, low muttered orders from officer to man, and a mult.i.tude of minor noises that seemed strange and weird and uncanny in this blackness.

A belated wardroom boy, still carrying a towel across his arm, slips from the cabin and hastens forward to his station in the powder division. The navigator, an officer of the regular navy, whose ideas of discipline are based on cast iron rules, espies the laggard and administers a sharp rebuke. A squad of marines dash from the "barracks"

below and line up at the secondary battery guns on the forecastle. Some of the marines are hatless and coatless, and one wiry little private shambles along on one foot. He stumbles against a hatch-coaming and kicks his shoe across the deck.

Suddenly an order comes out of the gloom near the main hatch and is carried from gun to gun.

"Cast loose and provide!"

The hitherto motionless figures waiting at the battery spring into activity. Hands move nimbly at the training and elevating gear.

Breech-blocks are thrown open, sights adjusted, the first and second captains take their places, the former with the firing lanyard in readiness for use at his gun; then there is silence again as the officer in charge of the division holds up one hand as a signal that all is prepared. Then comes the word to load.

In a twinkling the ammunition hoists are creaking with their burdens and boxes of sh.e.l.l appear on deck. These are quickly lifted to the guns and taken in hand by the loaders. The latter do their part of the general work thoroughly and with despatch, and presently the breech-blocks are swung to and the battery is ready for action.

In the meantime there has been systematic preparation in other parts of the auxiliary cruiser. Down in the sick bay aft, the surgeon and his a.s.sistants have made ready for their grewsome task. Cases of glittering instruments have been opened, lint and bandages and splints are in their proper places, and the apothecary and bayman are getting the cots in trim for instant use.

In the fire room the firemen and coal-pa.s.sers are heaping up the furnaces, a couple of men hurry away to attend to the fire mains, and, standing by in readiness for duty, are the engineers and crew of the off watch. The carpenters are ready below with shot-hole plugs, and everywhere throughout the ship can be found officers and sailors and marines and men of the "black gang," each at his proper station in readiness for the word to begin action.

But that word does not come. Instead a stentorian command is heard from the bridge:

"Secure!"

Laughing and joking, the crew of the "Yankee" hasten to restore the ship to its former state. All this has been a drill, the drill known as general quarters. It is the first time it has been held under service conditions, and when the captain steps down from the bridge and says in his brisk, authoritative way, "Very well done, very well done indeed,"

the boys of the cruiser are satisfied and happy.

Twice during the night the drill is repeated. There is no grumbling because of disturbed sleep, for a rumor has gone about the ship that Spanish vessels have been seen off the coast, and even the cranks on board admit that drills and exercises are necessary.

Sea watches have been set, and the rules followed when under way are now operative. A brief explanation of the routine attending the first hours of a naval day may help to make succeeding descriptions more plain. The ship's daily life commences with the calling of the ship's cook at 3:30 a.m. The ordinary mess cooks are awakened at four o'clock, so that coffee can be prepared for the watch. Coffee is always served with hard-tack to the watch coming on deck at four. It is all the men get until breakfast at 7:30, and a great deal of work must be accomplished before that time.

After the hard-tack and coffee had been consumed--and it went to that spot always reserved for good things--the lookouts of the other watch on the port and starboard bridge and the patent life buoys port and starboard quarter were relieved. As soon as the first streaks of dawn Were to be seen a long-drawn boatswain's pipe, like the wail of a lost soul, came from forward, and the order "scrub and wash clothes" given.

A day or two before the "Yankee" left the navy yard, one of the pretty girls who had come over to visit her asked: "Where do you have your washing done? It must require a great many washerwomen to keep the clothes of this dirty [glancing rather disdainfully at her somewhat grimy friend] crew clean." Though we knew that the luxury of a laundry would not fall to our lot, we were at a loss as to the method pursued to clean clothes.

We soon learned.

We who had been antic.i.p.ating an order of this sort came running forward with bundles of clothes that would discourage a steam laundry. This was the first opportunity we had had to clean up. The forecastlemen led out the hose, which was connected to the ship's pump, and, after wetting down the forecastle deck (where all clothes must be scrubbed), we were told we might turn to.

The "Kid," who was the youngest member of the crew aboard, very popular with officers and men, and who afterward became the ship's mascot, said, "How do you work this, anyway?" I confessed that I was in the dark myself, but proposed that we watch "Patt," the gunner's mate, who had served in the navy before. Presently we saw him lay his jumper flat on the deck, wet it thoroughly with water from the hose, then rub it with salt-water soap. Then he fished out a stiff scrubbing brush and began to scrub the jumper as if it was a floor. We then understood the significance of the order _scrub_ and wash clothes. In salt water the clothes have not only to be washed, but scrubbed as well.