Now as to the conduct of the soldiers. It was splendid and magnificent,
showing under extreme test the value of discipline and training. They
had been held under hatches for two days, it being too dangerous on
deck, so that they were in ignorance of exact conditions. They did
know our plight was desperate. In the face of all this when the ship
struck (as my First Sergeant afterwards told me), the non-commissioned
officers assumed command of their men, and perfect order reigned. The
word came to put on life belts. The men did so and lined up awaiting
orders. The chaplains went from hatch to hatch and prayed with the men,
who joined in earnestly. Many soldiers offered to save passengers. An
officer went below and told the men the circumstances,--that we had
drawn off the bar and that although temporarily safe were still in
danger. The men cheered with a vim. It revived my faith in human nature
to see that in this supreme test, no matter what their individual
shortcomings may have been before, every man had the spark of manhood
which measured up to the stern requirement. There was no doubt in their
minds but that their last hour had come. It was too much to expect that
life boats, even if they could have been lowered, could have existed in
the sea. It was a solemn moment that will impress itself on the future
of every thinking man board this ship.
During the rest of the night we tossed about the ocean, by some chance
avoiding the shoals and reefs of the Ryukyu group in the vicinity of
Iriomote Island (as later determined). There was a reaction and many
people who had been awake more or less for three days dropped off into
the sleep of exhaustion. After a while the passageways became cleared
and no one was to be seen. As for myself lying in the top bunk holding
my midriff with my hands, I tried to keep awake by once in a while
raising feet to the cabin ceiling. In time even this failed and slumber
came.
Dawn showed about 5:30 A.M. that Monday morning, bringing a foggy air
but without rain for the first time since Thursday night. The sun was
necessary for us to locate our position, and danger was imminent until
this could be known. With what anxiety that morning (my first on deck)
did the officers gather forward and watch the captain on the bridge,
with his sextant ready to take a "shot" at the sun should it show
itself. Several times it seemed about to break through, and finally
at 2 P.M. it came out and an observation was made. After the latitude
and longitude had been determined from this observation the captain
found that his ship was near the island of Iriomote, or some 150 miles
north-east of where he had guessed the vessel might be. In the meantime
when the fog had lifted a little, a low-lying coral reef was seen off
the port bow, not a mile away. Our course was changed to avoid this,
and about noon we passed an island of some size on the port side
showing dimly through the mist. The land could not be identified.
To-day, Tuesday, August 21st, the sun rose on a comparatively calm sea
with some breeze. At about 7:30 A.M. about eight miles away on the port
bow was seen a four-masted schooner, with all masts and spars in place
and full sail set. We wondered if it had been caught in the storm and
decided not, otherwise her rigging could not have been in such good
shape. Evidently the master thought so too, as we continued on our
course. As soon as sighting us the ship had flown the signal "B. N.,"
meaning "send assistance immediately." This was not seen by us at the
distance, so the Stars and Stripes were lowered from top to half mast.
This attracted our ship's attention and our course was changed. As
we approached the schooner, we could see the crew working the pumps
for dear life. It was the _Irmgard_ of San Francisco, which had been
laden with a cargo of copra and lumber. All the cargo had been lost.
Upon reaching hailing distance and with the _Irmgard's_ captain on the
after deck in blue shirt and khaki trousers making a megaphone with his
hands, the following conversation ensued: