FAREWELL, UNITED STATES
When the boys arose the following morning, each somewhat stiff and sore
from the experiences of the night before, it was with a feeling of happy
anticipation that made their physical discomforts seem like trivial
things.
For before nightfall the twin screws of the large transport _Everett_
would begin to churn the waters of the Delaware, her bow would be
pointed down stream, and the great voyage of adventure would be started.
But in the meantime there was much for the lads to learn. Up to the
present every moment had been occupied to the exclusion of such
instructions as were absolutely necessary to know, in order that they
might give the best service to their country.
And so they responded early to a summons from the superior officer in
charge of men in the Signal Corps at that station. By him they were
informed of the serious mission upon which they were bound, and of the
responsibilities that would fall upon them should the transport, by any
mishap, become separated from its armed convoy.
No message picked up at sea or elsewhere, he told them, was to be
repeated to anyone but the superior officer to whom it was directed; and
any calls for another vessel or station were to be ignored by them, even
if their aerial should pick the words up.
They were told of the fine loyalty demanded of men in their branch of
the service, and given some idea of the sacrifices they might be called
upon to make.
"The success of this war," said Major Briggs, "depends upon the courage
and ability with which each man in it performs the immediate task before
him. Whether the whole world shall fall under the iron hand of a
merciless tyranny, or the peoples of the various nations may govern
themselves in the freedom of democracy, now depends largely upon the men
of the United States. We must regard the responsibilities thrust upon us
as a glorious opportunity to serve all of mankind."
Thrilled with the nature of the great work ahead of them, Joe, Jerry and
Slim hurried down the long length of the navy yard to where the
_Everett_ lay moored to her slip, the center of much activity.
Steam already was up, as they could see from the thick black clouds of
smoke that curled upward from her smokestack. Big cranes, operated by
powerful winches on the vessel and on shore, were hoisting cases of
various sizes and shapes upon the lower decks and into the hold. A small
army of men helped complete the loading of the ship, and one group was
experiencing considerable difficulty in trying to persuade unwilling
mules to board the transport for Europe.
The boys hurdled over piles of food and ammunition, wended their way
through scores of stacks of ordnance, and finally over a gang-plank to
the vessel. There they saluted and reported to the officer of the day,
who directed them to go at once to the wireless room.
As they entered there Lieutenant Mackinson was busily engaged in "tuning
up" his instruments. He stopped when he saw them and reached into an
inner pocket, from which he produced three large oblong envelopes. One
was addressed to each lad, and as they accepted them they saw that each
was closed to prying eyes by the official seal of Uncle Sam.
Swept by various emotions, the boys stood there gazing first at the
envelopes and then at Lieutenant Mackinson.
"Well," said the lieutenant at last, with an amused smile, "do you want
me to retire while you read your communications?"
"Oh, no, not at all, sir," Joe hastened to say, and as if to prove the
statement all three envelopes were ripped open and the single sheet of
paper in each drawn forth.
Especially addressed to each lad, the letters were identical and read:
"I hereby convey to you my heartiest congratulations upon the
efficient and heroic manner in which you and your two friends
discovered and frustrated a plot to conceal enemy ammunition in the
vicinity of this naval base. You all displayed true American
courage; and I wish you every success for the future."
The letters were signed by the commandant of the Philadelphia Navy Yard.
"Look at that," said Slim, pushing his letter at Lieutenant Mackinson,
utterly forgetful of the fact that the other man was his superior
officer. "Ain't--isn't that fine, though? For the commandant to mention
it that way, I mean."
"Yes," admitted Lieutenant Mackinson, "but he wouldn't have mentioned
it that way if you hadn't deserved it."
"I'm not going to lose that letter," announced Jerry.
"Nor I," added Joe, "although we only did what any other fellows would
have done under the same circumstances."
"Well," said Lieutenant Mackinson, "it showed that you were to be
depended upon in an emergency, and emergencies are likely to crop up at
any time in our work, so let's get down to business."
He immediately began explaining the apparatus of the wireless room--how
messages were sent and received; the power of the batteries and their
auxiliaries; the switch-board regulating voltage; the automatic
recording apparatus--in fact, every detail connected with the intricate
mechanism of an up-to-date wireless.
"There was a time," explained Lieutenant Mackinson, "when the sending of
a message almost deafened the sender. It was like being in the midst of
a machine-gun assault. But recent improvements have eliminated that. You
may see for yourselves."
And the lieutenant tapped off the _Everett's_ own signal call with
little more sound than is made by the sending of a message with the
ordinary telegraph instrument.
"We have a sending and receiving radius of from five hundred to eight
hundred miles," Lieutenant Mackinson continued. "Of course, it doesn't
compare with the great wireless station at Radio, Virginia, one of the
largest in the world, where one tower is six hundred feet high and the
other four hundred and fifty feet in height, and each charged with two
hundred thousand volts, giving a radius of three thousand miles; but it
is sufficiently powerful for practically every purpose required at sea."
"Wasn't Marconi a wonderful man?" said Jerry in true admiration.
"Yes, he was; no doubt of that, and he still may contribute much to the
science, for he is not old yet," the young lieutenant answered. "But
still, full credit must be given where credit is due, and in that
respect it must be acknowledged that Marconi only assembled and
perfected to practicable purposes the discoveries and inventions made
before his time.
"Radio-telegraphy might be briefly traced in the names of Faraday,
Maxwell, Hertz--the discoverer of the Hertzian rays--Righi, Lodge and
Marconi. All of them contributed something to the evolvement of the
present highly efficient and dependable wireless. Marconi should, and
does, receive great credit; but the others, the pioneers, the real
discoverers, should not be forgotten or overlooked."
The lieutenant's words threw a new light on the history of the wireless
for the boys from Brighton, and they were anxious that the officer
should tell them more; but at that moment Lieutenant Mackinson caught
the faint recording of a distant wireless call for another station, far
down the Atlantic coast.
"Here," he said hastily, turning to Joe, who was nearest him, "see if
you can catch this message."
He slipped the receiving apparatus over Joe's head, and tightened up the
ear-pieces, then pushed toward him a pad and pencil.
Into Joe's ears came the faint but distinct sounds of a distant call:
-. ... -. ... -. ...
"N S," Joe jotted down on the sheet before him.
"A ship at sea calling Newport News," Lieutenant Mackinson informed the
other two, who waited impatiently for Joe to begin recording the
message.
Newport News acknowledged the call, and then the vessel's wireless
continued:
.--- .- ... .--. . .-.
And Joe, transcribing, wrote: "JASPER." Following this came:
-.. . - .- .. .-..
The other boys looked on in chagrin, while Lieutenant Mackinson's
countenance took on an amused smile, as Joe wrote down the word
"DETAIL," and then nothing else but the initials "N. N.," which ended
the message.
"Don't make sense," announced Slim in a discouraged voice. "You must
have missed part of it."
"No, I didn't," Joe replied, looking anxiously toward the lieutenant.
"I guess he got it all," the young officer assured them, at the same
time unlocking a little closet and taking a leather-bound book from an
upper shelf. "Let's see."
He turned to the J's and ran his finger down the page until he came to
the word "JASPER."
"That means 'We have coaled,'" he said, writing the words out on the
pad.
"Oh, it's in code," said Slim apologetically; "I didn't know that."
"DETAIL," the lieutenant announced, finding that word. "'Understand and
am following sealed orders'. That's the _North Dakota_. She has coaled
at sea and is now starting upon some mission known only to her commander
and the naval authorities."
Almost as he finished speaking the _Everett_ gave a lurch, her whistle
was tooted two or three times, the engines started turning, and the big
boat began to vibrate under the pressure.
There was a shout from the thousand or more who had crowded to the
river's edge, responded to by the fifteen hundred khaki-clad young men
who were lined up at every point of vantage along the vessel's side.
"And we're off, too," shouted Lieutenant Mackinson.
"Hurrah!" cried the three boys from Brighton in the same breath, as they
double-quicked it behind the lieutenant to the upper deck.
The scene was one to inspire the most miserable slacker. Somewhere in
the upper part of the yard a band was playing Sousa's "Stars and Stripes
Forever." From the windows of the ordnance and other buildings at the
lower end of the yard workmen hung forth, waving hats and handkerchiefs,
and joining in the shouted well-wishes of those along the shore. The
crews of every fighting craft in that part of the river sang out
friendly advice to those aboard the transport, and two miles down the
channel could be discerned the smoke from the stacks of the armed
convoys that were to give the _Everett_ safe passage to her destination.
Among those at the water's edge the boys could discern the big form of
Sergeant Martin, and even as distance welded them in an
indistinguishable mass, they could still see him, towering above the
others, his hat describing wide circles through the air.
"So long, fellows; we'll meet you over there," shouted the men of the
last vessel they passed.
As though by prearrangement the fifteen hundred men on the _Everett_
began singing, "I'm Going Over," sang it to the end of the first verse,
then stopped, and from a point well down the river could hear those they
had passed taking up the second stanza.
Hours later, out upon the ocean, the dim lights ashore fading one by
one, the fighters for Uncle Sam gave one last, long, lingering look at
their native land. And Jerry, voicing the spirit of all, cried out:
"Farewell, United States."