Over the Seas for Uncle Sam Part 4

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Boresighting"--a 3-inch gun on board a merchant ship.]

We anch.o.r.ed in an English port and like every good "bloomin' b.l.o.o.d.y Yank," as our British cousins call us, we got out our bats and b.a.l.l.s ready to play United States baseball. We had four cracking good teams on the ship. The first and fourth would play, then the second and third.

The compet.i.tion was pretty close and we were tickled to death when the American Consul got a tract of land for us and we went ash.o.r.e to show those Johnnies a regular game, after watching cricket for an hour or two.

Well, after several days of games, some of the men began abusing their sh.o.r.e privileges, and the officers knocked it off and kept us aboard--no liberty at all!

Gee, we certainly longed to get off the boat. There was land only a hand's throw away--and there was a whole diamond going to waste and games tied. One afternoon, after talking the matter over, we plucked up courage and drew lots. It fell on me to go up to the Officer of the Deck and ask for a Recreation Party.

I did.

He didn't waste any breath at all. "No," he said, so I slunk back to my mates. But we didn't let the matter rest. Every ten minutes another one of us would march up with the same request. The O. D. got sore. Ole was on watch.

"Pa.s.s the word," the O. D. commanded crisply, "_No Recreation Party whatsoever!_"

Ole did.

"_No Recreation Party what's er matter?_" he hollered.

That finished him. He lost a rank on account of it. Poor Ole, he got in dutch for fair!

We were convoying merchant and troop ships, going out to meet them and bringing them back to port. We started out one cold October day with a raging gale blowing. The sea was like a seething caldron--the waves were mountain high. We had on all the warm things we owned, but, at that, we were ice wherever the water struck us.

I was m.u.f.fled to the eyes. Esquimos had nothing on me and I could see we were in for some stiff duty. It wasn't a matter of one day--it was a matter of eight days on a raging sea--no chance to take off your socks even--life-preservers on every minute of the time--watching out sharp for Fritz.

A flock of us met the ships we were to bring in and we started to steam back to our base, when we had the shock of our lives!

It was early morning, barely light. The sky was a gray line, as if you took a paint brush and slapped a streak from east to west. The water was gray and we men on the bridge rubbed our eyes, for right in front of us, not five hundred away--standing out black against the sky--was a German submarine.

We figured she had laid there all night--and was going to send our flagship to the bottom if she could--but she couldn't have looked over her shoulder, because she didn't seem to know we were there.

Well, we were after her like a streak of greased lightning. That was just what we had been praying for; as we charged her we fired; we were almost on top of her, trying to ram her, when she submerged; we pa.s.sed right over her as she went down; you could see the bubbles and spray.

Then we launched our depth charges--"ash cans," as we call them. They look like a ten-gallon drum. You set them off when you are traveling full speed right above your blooming submarine--fifteen knots we were making.

Quick! Say, it's the speediest work in the world, because, once your charges are dropped, you have to beat it or get blown up yourself--as it is you can feel the explosion for yards around. Well, we dropped four--and got out of the way. As for the sub ... zowy! Up she came to the surface, ripped wide open. Then she stood up on her end and sank as if somebody had pulled her down by the tail.

One man of the German crew floated out of her before she sank for all time, and Ole, before we could stop him, had lashed a rope around himself and was overboard hauling him in. The German was dead, so he couldn't give us any information. Worse luck! But we didn't let that make us feel blue. I tell you we were a pretty pleased bunch. You feel good all over when you get a German sub. They are so blamed much like a crook waiting in a dark alley to stab a man in the back. Yon owe it to society to knock him out good and proper.

Yep, great crew ours. Some say destroyer duty takes nerve, but the reason I like it is that you don't feel like sleeping on your job; you're just too blamed afraid you'll miss the thrill of your life if you do. It's a great life! Take it from me!

HOSPITAL APPRENTICE DUDLEY SPEAKS:

IN TRAINING

I DIDN'T know what I wanted to enlist in--I didn't care. All I thought about was that war was declared. That set my New England blood boiling, I suppose, and I didn't waste any time. I happened to be in Baltimore. I scooted down to a recruiting station and joined the Navy.

They asked me what branch of service I wanted to go in for. I said I didn't give a hang just so long as I'd get a chance to go across and do a thing or two to the Huns. They chose the Hospital Corps for me. It sounded all right. I didn't dream of the hard work I was letting myself in for.

After I'd left the station I called up mother on long distance. She was visiting in Connecticut. I told her I had joined. She said she knew I would and that she was glad I had not waited a day. That's mother all over for you. I think every ancestor she ever had fought in some war or other. No slackers in this family!

It was April. I had on an unlined suit and a light cravenette when three hundred of us left Baltimore at eleven next day. We were going to Newport. At five that afternoon we took the Fall River line. It was pretty chilly then. I kept wondering why the d.i.c.kens I hadn't brought along an overcoat--but you didn't speak about being cold, although I'll bet three-fourths of the men on that boat were chattering. We were in the navy now--fine sailors we'd make if we complained about a chill!

We arrived in Newport between four and five in the morning, and anch.o.r.ed until daybreak. I thought it would never come. The sky was grayish. I hadn't slept all night and I was beginning to wish we'd get somewhere where I could turn in for a good rest,--but no such luck.

A petty officer met us at the steamer pier, taking us over in a little government boat to Coaster Island. We landed at the Government Pier and there we lined up. There was a queer old tub anch.o.r.ed nearby. I asked someone what it was, and he told me that I was gazing upon the old frigate _Constellation_, which fought in the war of 1812 and is now used as a signal school. She certainly looked out of date. I wondered if our snappy sub chasers would look as clumsy as that in another hundred years.

We marched to the receiving building and stood around on the outside. I didn't know a soul there, but three of us were Hospital Corps, and we sort of stuck together. The rest were a mixture. There were "sparks"

that's what they call the radio wireless men; and electricians; and there were "chips"--that's carpenters--and there were some of the "black gang," which are what the firemen are called, unless it's "coalheavers."

As for us, we were the "iodine crew." It's a good name, all right.

Each draft was called in in turn. A C.P.O. would come to the door and bawl, "All right, all New York draft in," and they'd waltz in while we waited and wondered how soon before we could sleep.

After a while they called Baltimore, and we went inside, turned over our papers, and were sent to an adjoining room to receive the Navy hair-cut.

Say, talk about speed! Liberty motors have got nothing on those four barbers. You no sooner sat down than--snip-snip-snip--and--"Next!" Then you signed your name, but what the barber wanted with all our autographs I never have been able to make out. Perhaps he figures some of us may become great heroes and he'll sell the signatures for a young fortune some day.

In the adjoining room we removed our clothes so that they could be disinfected and sent home. Then we took a shower. At times the water was very warm, then suddenly it would get cold as ice. They certainly believed in variety being the spice of life.

We were vaccinated next, a long line of us. And some were so scared they just curled up and fainted. But I got through and went in for my medical exam. If you don't pa.s.s it right there you are rejected, but if you only have depressed arches, or, say, stooping shoulders, they let you through. They know navy life will fix that O. K. Just do setting up exercises for a few months and you'll gain a ton!

Then we were measured for our uniforms and they were handed out to us: two suits of winter underwear, two pair of woollen socks, a navy sweater, a blue dress uniform and two white undress uniforms, shoes, hairbrush, clothes, "kiyi," which, in plain English, is a clothes brush, shoe cleaning gear, needle and thread and thimble, six pocket handkerchiefs, a neckerchief, a pocket knife, two white hats, a watch cap and a flat hat. Then you get your bedding: a mattress, two pair of blankets, your hammock and your duffle-bag. Believe me, the mattress looked good to me. I could see myself drifting off into slumber in a gently swaying hammock... .

They marched us to a Detention Barracks. You are not supposed to leave there until you get permission, in case someone breaks out with smallpox or yellow fever.

Everything was complete in the barracks. Meals were cooked in a regular galley; there were showers, mess room and sleeping rooms. Very nifty!

A little, fat C.P.O. with a bald head came in and instructed us how to clue our hammocks. It didn't seem hard. We were pretty proud of the job--all twenty of us.

By that time we could have eaten whale oil with a relish, and a squad of four went for chow, while the other fellows pitched in and laid out the mess gear. That navy stew certainly smelled good! The squad dished us out big portions of it and that, with hot coffee, made us feel like new men.

After we had finished four men washed up the mess gear and the rest of us turned to and swept down the room. The little C.P.O. bounced in again and fixed up our watch for us--two fellows on guard, each standing two hours. The Chief posted the first watchman, and taps began blowing as we started in stringing our hammocks.

It was great sport. Everyone had a theory about it, but we were told that, whatever we did, we must get the hammocks straight, because a sagging hammock is death on the back.

At nine, to the dot, lights were out. It was pitch black in our room.

Somewhere outside one feeble standing light flickered, but inside, nothing doing.

Remember, these hammocks are about seven feet above ground--say, the fun started right there. How to get up in them was some problem. Each man thought of a way of doing it, and, in the first rush, one or two made it, but the rest of us only got a leg up and swung there before dropping back to earth.

Everyone was hollering suggestions and trying to get a grip on the blamed things. It wouldn't have been so hard if the hammocks hadn't moved--but they almost acted as though they had sense--hanged if they didn't. They'd bob this way and that, and the moment you got up--well----

After three or four attempts I made it. I got in all right, but, before I could settle down, over it turned with me--spilling out everything I owned, me included. I scrambled around picking up what I could in the dark, and what I said wouldn't be pa.s.sed by the Board of Censors.