Transcriber’s Note
Italic text displayed as: _italic_
[Illustration: THE CORSAIR RESCUES THE CREW OF THE SINKING CALIFORNIAN
(_page 234_)]
THE CORSAIR
IN THE WAR ZONE
BY
RALPH D. PAINE
AUTHOR OF “THE FIGHTING FLEETS”
_With Illustrations_
[Illustration: Decoration]
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
_The Riverside Press Cambridge_
1920
COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY JOHN PIERPONT MORGAN
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
“_North, East, South, and West,
The Corsair sails and knows no rest._”
CONTENTS
I. THE CALL OF DUTY OVERSEAS 1
II. “LAFAYETTE, WE ARE HERE!” 29
III. AT SEA WITH THE BRETON PATROL 55
IV. TRAGEDIES AND RESCUES 76
V. WHEN THE ANTILLES WENT DOWN 101
VI. ADMIRAL WILSON COMES TO BREST 122
VII. SMASHED BY A HURRICANE 146
VIII. THE PLEASANT INTERLUDE AT LISBON 174
IX. UNCLE SAM’S BRIDGE OF SHIPS 198
X. THE CORSAIR STANDS BY 225
XI. IN THE RADIO-ROOM 251
XII. THE LONG ROAD HOME 266
XIII. HONORABLY DISCHARGED 289
XIV. THE SHIP’S COMPANY 296
ILLUSTRATIONS
THE CORSAIR RESCUES THE CREW OF THE SINKING
CALIFORNIAN _Frontispiece_
ADMIRAL H. B. WILSON, COMMANDING THE U.S. NAVAL
FORCES IN FRANCE 4
COMMANDER THEODORE A. KITTINGER, U.S.N., COMMANDING
U.S.S. CORSAIR 10
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER WILLIAM B. PORTER, LATER
COMMANDING U.S.S. CORSAIR, AND LIEUTENANT
ROBERT E. TOD, NAVIGATOR 16
FITTING THE CORSAIR FOR THE WAR ZONE 22
NUMBER TWO GUN CREW ON WATCH 26
THEY ARE ALL SEA DOGS TOGETHER 26
SOME OF THE OFFICERS AND CREW, BEFORE LEAVING
NEW YORK 32
WITH AMERICA’S FIRST CONVOY: TROOP-SHIPS HENDERSON,
ANTILLES, MOMUS, AND LENAPE 38
THE MINE FUNCTIONS AND A LURKING U-BOAT WOULD
FIND IT EXCESSIVELY UNHEALTHY 38
THE KIND OF “GOBS” THE COUNTRY WAS PROUD OF 44
THE GERMAN SUBMARINE WAS A TINY TARGET EVEN
WHEN ON THE SURFACE 44
BOATSWAIN’S MATE SEGER, FROM PASSAIC 50
PHARMACIST’S MATE FEELEY AND MESS ATTENDANT
MARTINEZ 50
WINNING BOAT CREW IN FOURTH OF JULY RACE WITH
APHRODITE 56
“THE BRIDGE GANG” 56
STARTING THE SWIMMING RACE FROM A MOORING
BUOY 62
WATER SPORTS ON THE FOURTH OF JULY: THE RACE
BETWEEN LIFE-RAFTS WITH COAL SHOVELS FOR
PADDLES 62
A WET DAY FOR THE DECK WATCH 66
FRENCH AND UNDERHILL ARE DOLLED UP FOR THE
CAMERA 66
THE BURNING AMERICAN SCHOONER AUGUSTUS WELD 70
FROM THE CORSAIR’S MAIN-TOP: THE CONVOY STEAMS
OUT 70
“COAL ON THE CORSAIR, FILL EVERY BIN. WE WORK
LIKE HELL, BOYS, TILL IT’S ALL IN” 74
A FRENCH FISHING-SMACK WHICH DARED THE RUTHLESS
WARFARE 78
THE S.S. MANTO, WHICH SPED THROUGH THE WAR ZONE
AT FIVE KNOTS 78
A GROUP OF CHIEF PETTY OFFICERS 84
A LIBERTY PARTY AT BREST 84
THE GUNNER’S MATES AND THE LONG ROW OF DEPTH
CHARGES READY TO PLOP OVER THE STERN 88
ANOTHER VIEW OF THE MINE TRACK, SHOWING THE
Y GUN OR DOUBLE MORTAR 88
FRENCH FISHERMEN WHO WERE SET ADRIFT 92
THE CASTAWAYS FIND A HEARTY WELCOME ON THE
CORSAIR 92
GUNNER’S MATES BARKO AND MOORE, AND A DEPTH
CHARGE 98
WATCHING THE APHRODITE GO OUT ON PATROL 98
ENGINEERING FORCE OF THE CORSAIR 102
LIEUTENANT J. J. PATTERSON, ENGINEER OFFICER, AND
HIS HUSKY “BLACK GANG” 102
A BOAT-LOAD OF SURVIVORS FROM THE ANTILLES COMING
ALONGSIDE 106
NAVAL OFFICERS RESCUED FROM THE ANTILLES, WITH
GENERAL MCNAIR, U.S.A. 106
THE ANTILLES CROWDED WITH TROOPS ON HER LAST
VOYAGE TO FRANCE 110
THE ALCEDO PICKS UP THE ANTILLES SURVIVORS 110
THE CORSAIR DROPS A MINE AND SHAKES UP FRITZ 114
THE FINLAND, JUST AFTER SHE WAS TORPEDOED 118
DESTROYER PRESTON, WHICH WAS CAUGHT IN THE HURRICANE
AND ALSO FOUND REFUGE AT LISBON 118
CHIEF YEOMAN PAULSON 122
GUNNER’S MATE WILEY 122
BUCKING INTO THE WINTER SEAS 128
SHE TAKES ’EM ABOARD GREEN 128
THE SHIP’S COOKS AND THE WARDROOM STEWARD 134
THE NOBLE JOB OF PEELING “SPUDS” 134
BOATSWAIN’S MATE HOUTZ IN THE NAVY’S STORM
CLOTHES 140
SWOLLEN SEA, FROM THE FORWARD CROW’S-NEST 140
A LETTER FROM HOME: COALING SHIP MUST WAIT 144
CARROLL BAYNE GETS HIS ENSIGN’S COMMISSION 144
HOW THE HURRICANE SEAS POUNDED THE YACHT: “THE
POOR OLD SHIP WAS A MESS” 150
WHAT WAS LEFT OF THE EMERGENCY WHEEL 156
WHEN THE HURRICANE SLAPPED THE WINDOWS 156
ASSISTANT ENGINEER HAWTHORN AND HIS WATCH 160
THE CREW OF NUMBER THREE GUN 160
TEMPORARY REPAIRS, AFTER THE HURRICANE 164
WHAT THE FORWARD DECK-HOUSE LOOKED LIKE
WHILE RUNNING FOR LISBON 164
CLEANING UP AT LISBON, AFTER THE HURRICANE 172
LISBON HARBOR AND THE TUG THAT TOWED THE CORSAIR
TO THE DOCKYARD 176
THE AMERICAN LEGATION AT LISBON WHERE THE CORSAIR’S
CREW FOUND A HOME 176
THE CORSAIR IN DRYDOCK AT LISBON 182
AT HER MOORING BUOY, BREST 182
“DOC” LAUB AGREES THAT “THIS IS THE LIFE IF YOU
DON’T WEAKEN” 188
COXSWAIN DAVE TIBBOTT WAITS WITH THE LAUNCH 188
THE CHEERY FRENCH PILOT, LIEUTENANT MEJECK 194
CHIEF QUARTERMASTER BENTON 194
THE HOME OF THE AMERICAN NAVAL OFFICERS’ CLUB
IN BREST 200
AMERICAN YACHTS CLUSTERED INSIDE THE BREAKWATER,
BREST 206
THE FAITHFUL WAKIVA, WHICH WAS SUNK IN COLLISION 212
BIG TRANSPORTS IN BREST HARBOR 212
CHIEF QUARTERMASTER FARR STANDS WITH FOLDED
ARMS AND INDICATES THAT HE HAS HIS SEA-LEGS
WITH HIM 216
COMMANDER KITTINGER SAYS GOOD-BYE TO LIEUTENANT
COMMANDER PORTER AS THE LATTER TAKES
OVER THE COMMAND 216
LIEUTENANT SCHANZE, ENSIGN GRAY, LIEUTENANT
COMMANDER PORTER, CHIEF ENGINEER HUTCHISON,
COMMANDER KITTINGER, AND LIEUTENANT MCGUIRE 220
AT ROSYTH: LIEUTENANT NOLAN, DR. AGNEW, COMMANDER
PORTER, LIEUTENANT MCGUIRE, ENSIGN
ACORN, LIEUTENANT PATTERSON, ENSIGN WANGERIN,
AND PAYMASTER ERICKSON 220
ROLLING OUT TO FIND A CONVOY 226
A LITTLE WATER ON DECK 226
THE SINKING CALIFORNIAN: GOING, GOING, ALMOST
GONE! 232
CALIFORNIAN SURVIVORS ABOARD THE CORSAIR 232
A MASCOT FROM THE CALIFORNIAN, KNOWN AS “THE
MUTT” 238
THE NEWFOUNDLAND PUP SAVED FROM THE FRENCH
FISHING BARK 238
THE DAGFIN, BROKEN DOWN AND HELPLESS. THE CORSAIR
STANDS BY 244
ADMIRAL HENRY T. MAYO, COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF OF
THE ATLANTIC FLEET 248
H. A. BRECKEL, CHIEF RADIO OPERATOR 256
ELECTRICIANS SWAN AND PLUMMER, OF THE HIGHLY
EFFICIENT RADIO GANG 256
AT THE EMERGENCY WHEEL: HEAVY WEATHER OFFSHORE 262
THE TRIM, IMMACULATE NAVY MAN: AFTER COALING
SHIP 262
BOATSWAIN’S MATE FRENCH BOUGHT A PET PARROT IN
LISBON 268
“TOMMY,” THE SHIP’S CAT, WHO FINISHED STRONG IN
THE HURRICANE 268
“TEDDY,” WHO WAS GIVEN A MILITARY FUNERAL WHEN
HE SWALLOWED A NAIL 268
WITH THE GRAND FLEET AT ROSYTH 274
SURRENDERED GERMAN SUBMARINES TIED UP AT PORTLAND 274
THE CORSAIR AT QUEENSTOWN AS FLAGSHIP OF ADMIRAL
SIMS 278
SEAMAN HENRY BARRY, BEFORE THEY WISHED ANOTHER
JOB ON HIM 282
GUNNER’S MATE SIMPSON HOPES TO SPOT THAT SUB 282
THE HOMEWARD-BOUND PENNANT: “WE’RE OFF FOR
LITTLE OLD NEW YORK, THANK GOD” 286
THE CORSAIR WHEN IN COMMISSION AS A YACHT BEFORE
THE WAR 290
ADMIRAL WILLIAM S. SIMS, COMMANDING THE U.S.
NAVAL FORCES IN EUROPEAN WATERS 294
MAP SHOWING THE CORSAIR’S WANDERINGS IN THE
WAR ZONE 304
THE CORSAIR IN THE WAR ZONE
THE CORSAIR IN THE WAR ZONE
[Illustration: Decoration]
CHAPTER I
THE CALL OF DUTY OVERSEAS
The task of the American Navy in the great conflict was performed
exceedingly well, but so very quietly that even now the merits of the
achievement are realized only by those who knew how near the German
submarine campaign came to winning the war. There was no blacker period
than the spring of 1917 when the losses of Allied merchant shipping
were mounting toward a million tons a month, and the Admiralty was well
aware that England stood face to face with starvation and defeat unless
this piracy could soon be checked. It was when Admiral Sims cabled
to his own Government, from London, “Briefly stated, I consider that
at the present moment we are losing the war”; when Admiral Jellicoe
privately admitted, “It is impossible for us to go on if losses like
this continue”; and when Lord Balfour could see no escape from the same
tragic conclusion.
The facts were purposely concealed from the people of both countries,
and even after the declaration of war the attitude of the American
mind was all too leisurely, while the British grimly hung on and
tightened their belts with the tenacity of the breed. The battleship
squadrons of the Grand Fleet still dominated the surface of the Seven
Seas, but they were helpless to aid in this vital problem. It was
perceived that the chief hope of salvation was in massing destroyers to
protect the converging trade routes of the Irish Sea and the English
Channel and thereby increasing the supply of food and material. For
this service the British Navy was able to spare a flotilla of less than
a score of these craft, a patrol force obviously inadequate. These were
the reasons why the fleet of thirty-five fast and powerful American
destroyers was sent across the Atlantic, and why Queenstown was chosen
as the strategic base port.
As soon as the troop-ships began to move overseas, these destroyers
were able to extend their operations and to help guard and escort the
convoys through the Bay of Biscay to the coast of France. Meanwhile
another urgent situation had developed and an appeal no less insistent
had been conveyed to Washington. The navy of France was mostly in
the Mediterranean where it properly belonged, and the small patrol
force off the stormy shores of Brittany was racked, weary, almost
discouraged. Thousands of French sailors had been sent from the ships
and bases to fight in the trenches. The little torpedo boats and
trawlers were unable to cope with the U-boats which ran amuck among
the precious coastwise convoys or intercepted the ships that were
homeward bound from distant voyages.
France was magnificent, but her maritime strength in the Atlantic
was almost spent. To safeguard the approaches to her ports in which
American regiments and divisions were to be landed, hundreds of
thousands of men, with their mountains of supplies, was more than
she could attempt. Help was needed and the American Navy was eager
to respond, but no more destroyers were available. It was necessary
to retain a certain number of them in home waters as units of the
fighting fleet of big ships which was held in readiness for whatever
emergency the war might suddenly unfold. To France, therefore, the Navy
was compelled to send whatever it could lay hands on at short notice,
planning to reinforce this vanguard with destroyers as fast as they
could be launched and commissioned.
In these circumstances the only ships which could be hastily fitted
out and sent across were the larger yachts, about twenty in number,
whose owners had enrolled and offered them for service when the war
clouds were gathering. It had been expected that these pleasure craft,
with their volunteer officers and crews, would be used only in the
coastal patrol areas and not for duty in the war zone, and in the naval
organization they were defined as belonging to “Class IV,” which had
a limited field of operation. This was no obstacle, it is needless to
say, for when the greater opportunity offered, the amateur bluejackets
who manned these yachts were eager to shift into “Class II,” or
combatant ships, and to sign on for the adventure in the war zone.
The story of one of these yachts which bravely endured almost two
years of battering service in foreign waters is more than a record of
a single ship, for it will convey, I hope, something of the spirit and
the experiences which they all shared together and which the Navy at
large regards with pride as worthy of its traditions. These ships were
flung into work for which they were presumably unfitted, into a kind
of warfare which was wholly novel, and they sailed with crews who were
mostly greenhorns, but they passed the test with flying colors and
their admiral who commanded the American Naval Forces in France took
pleasure in writing, not long ago:
_U.S.S. Pennsylvania
New York, N.Y.
8 September, 1919_
MY DEAR MR. PAINE:
I am glad that you are to write the war story of the _Corsair_
because the story of the yachts that came to France in 1917 is well
worthy of record. These vessels, designed for pleasure and manned,
in large part, by officers and men of little naval training, but
of unconquerable spirit, were by peculiar circumstances given an
important rôle in the war.
[Illustration:
_Copyright by Underwood and Underwood, N.Y._
ADMIRAL H. B. WILSON, COMMANDING THE U.S. NAVAL FORCES IN FRANCE]
Because of the lack of destroyers, the yachts contributed a large
share of the American naval effort on the French coast during the
summer and fall of 1917—trying months of the submarines’ greatest
activity. Their work then and subsequently, whether on troop and
store-ship escort in the Bay of Biscay, convoy escort through the
difficult coastal channels of France, or on the Gironde convoys, was
frequently hazardous and was always well done.
Very sincerely
H. B. WILSON
(_Admiral, U.S. Navy_)
Such was the “Suicide Fleet” as it was dubbed by certain pessimists who
were later compelled to eat their words. Of these yachts one of the
largest and fastest was the _Corsair_, owned by J. Pierpont Morgan,
and the second of her name to fly the pennant of the American Navy in
war-time. The first _Corsair_ was renamed the _Gloucester_ and won a
well-deserved renown at Santiago in 1898, under Lieutenant Commander
Richard Wainwright, who engaged two Spanish destroyers, driving one
ashore and sinking the other in the most brilliant single exploit of
that battle. In size and armament either destroyer was more than a
match for the converted yacht, called a gunboat by courtesy, whose main
battery consisted of four six-pounders. This was the kind of blue-water
warfare which American sailors would have vastly preferred in 1917,
ship to ship, between honorable foemen, as navies had fought in days
gone by.
The contrast between the naval careers of these two _Corsairs_ is wide
and significant. The older ship had known what to expect, a certain
chivalry of the sea which had never been obscured, even when men
slew each other with cutlass and boarding-pike upon reddened decks.
It was exemplified in the conduct of the Spanish Admiral Cervera, and
reflected in the behavior of Captain “Jack” Phillip of the _Texas_ when
he shouted to his bluejackets in the moment of victory, “Don’t cheer,
boys. The poor devils are dying.”
The _Corsair_ of twenty years later was to sail against an enemy who
skulked beneath the sea with malice toward all and mercy toward none,
who counted women and children as fair prey in war, and whose trail was
marked by the agonies of unarmed and helpless castaways adrift in open
boats.
This _Corsair_ was no fragile, fair-weather yacht whose cruises had
been confined to sheltered reaches, but a powerful ship familiar with
the Atlantic in all seasons. She was no longer young, as vessels go,
with eighteen years of service to her credit, but the Lloyd’s surveyor
rated her as staunch and sound in every respect. As a yacht the
_Corsair_ had made six voyages to Europe, while owned by the late J.
Pierpont Morgan, and her shapely lines were known to mariners from the
Channel ports to the Mediterranean and the Golden Horn.
A faithful ship which has long withstood the ordeals of the sea becomes
something more than a mere fabric of steel and wood. She seems almost
sentient, like a living thing to those who have shared her fortunes,
and therein is the immemorial romance which the sea peculiarly
vouchsafes. It is obvious to sailor-men that these many years of
fidelity, in winter gales and summer breezes, should have endeared the
_Corsair_ to her owners, father and son.
Designed by J. Beavor Webb, the yacht was built for offshore work,
although not with the expectation that she would be used as a
“fourth-rate gunboat” in the Bay of Biscay for a year and a half on
end. This was too much to ask of a vessel so planned and arranged,
but like the men of the Navy she proved that she could do a little
better than her best. Her length was three hundred and four feet,
with a beam of thirty-three and a half feet, a draft of seventeen
feet, and a measurement of sixteen hundred tons—noble dimensions for
a pleasure craft. The unusual speed of nineteen knots was maintained,
when necessary, in the war zone. Her yachting complement comprised
fifty-five officers and men. With spacious decks and living quarters,
the _Corsair_ was rather comfortable than ornate.
Captain William B. Porter had been in command of her for sixteen years.
He was a deep-water sailor whose youth had known a merchant marine now
vanished, the stately sailing ships from ports “down east” which lifted
sky sail yards to the breath of the Pacific trades or snugged down to
breast the tempests of Cape Horn. He knew shipwreck and the peril and
misery of an open boat adrift in Far Eastern seas. He had gone into
steam, at first on the China coast, and later he became an officer in
the American Line. During the Spanish War he served on the auxiliary
cruiser _Yale_ with the naval rank of lieutenant (junior grade), and
was given command of the Spanish Steamer _Rita_ which was captured as a
prize and used as a transport.
When the _Corsair_ was taken over by the Navy, it was ruled that all
vessels of this class should be commanded by an officer of the regular
service. Captain Porter was appointed executive officer of the yacht,
which position he held until promoted to command during her second year
of duty in foreign waters.
In April and May of 1917 the _Corsair_ was overhauled and refitted
as a fighting craft at the yard of the W. & A. Fletcher Company in
Hoboken, the firm which had built her. The Navy is severely practical
and beauty was sacrificed to utility. The bowsprit, which had added
the finishing touch to the fine sheer of the deck, was ruthlessly
removed. Canvas-screened platforms, or crow’s-nests, disfigured the
two tall masts. The white-pine decks, whose spotlessness had been the
officers’ pride, were bored for gun mountings. Teakwood panels which
had covered the steel plates of the bulwarks were sent ashore for
storage. Plate-glass windows were boarded up and gleaming brass-work
painted to decrease visibility and save the trouble of polishing it.
The quarter-deck, no longer inviting to leisure with its awnings,
cushions, and wicker chairs, was measured for the track and gear of the
ready depth bombs.
The hardest problem was to stow a hundred and more men below. The large
dining-room forward was stripped of its fittings and filled with tiers
of bunks and a few hammocks. Down the middle ran two long mess tables,
bare and scrubbed. Forty-five men were taken care of in this space, and
although they could not have whirled a cat around by the tail, they
were no more crowded than is customary in the Navy. Twenty-four more
were berthed in the forecastle. By ripping out bulkheads, room was made
in the “glory hole” for some of the petty officers. The old quarters
of the yacht’s officers were given over to the chief petty officers.
The bluejackets overflowed into the hold and slept close to the ice
machine, where they philosophically reflected that they were sure to
keep cool in the event of a torpedo attack.
The owner’s cabins and the library aft were occupied by the
commissioned officers. Although the rugs and panels and much of the
furniture were removed and the ship had a bare, business-like aspect,
the officers found a certain luxury in the fact that there were
bathrooms enough to go round. They ate in the forward house on deck and
the library served as an office, with gun supports extending from the
wide divans to the deck above. The rough-and-ready transformation must
have seemed almost brutal to those of the crew who, for many years,
had striven for perfection of detail in maintaining the _Corsair_ as
a yacht. As a fighting ship the gleaming black of the hull and the
mahogany houses were covered with sombre gray paint.
A naval crew was put aboard as soon as the quarters were ready. For
the most part they were eager and youthful volunteers who had chosen
the Navy because it seemed to promise speedier action than the Army.
They had lost no time in enlisting, many of them preferring the
humble station of a bluejacket to the delay incident to studying for
a commission at Plattsburg. The lack of seafaring experience was
atoned for by unbounded zeal and enthusiasm. Their sublime ignorance
was unclouded by doubts. They yearned to fight German submarines and
expected to find them.
It was a democracy of the forecastle in which social distinctions were
thrown overboard as so much rubbish. The yachts recruited many of their
men from the universities, from offices in Wall Street and Broadway,
and as sweating “gobs” with blistered palms they rubbed elbows or
bunked with youngsters of all sorts and were proud of it. Princeton
was strong aboard the _Corsair_, and more than a dozen of her sons,
as a stentorian glee club, enlivened the Bay of Biscay with praise of
Old Nassau. The older officers of the regular service disliked this
new word “gob” as undignified and untraditional, but the Reserve Force
adopted it with pride as the badge of their high-hearted fraternity.
[Illustration: COMMANDER THEODORE A. KITTINGER, U.S.N., COMMANDING
U.S.S. CORSAIR]
The _Corsair_ was fortunate in the officers assigned for the
hazardous employments of the war zone. Lieutenant Commander Theodore A.
Kittinger, U.S.N., was in command of the yacht, having been transferred
from the destroyer _Cushing_ which had taken part in the long and
arduous training that had whetted the flotilla personnel to a fine edge.
The service record of Commander Kittinger helps one to realize how
varied is the experience and how rigorous the training of a naval
officer, even in time of peace. Graduated from Annapolis in 1901,
he served first in the battleship _Alabama_, of the North Atlantic
Squadron, as junior watch and division officer, on deck and in the
engine-room. As an ensign he was in the converted yacht _Vixen_ in 1903
when she cruised in Caribbean waters and kept an eye on the attempt
of the former Kaiser to meddle in the affairs of Venezuela. Then
shifted to the China station, the youthful officer was in the monitor
_Monadnock_ and the cruiser _New Orleans_ during the anti-foreign riots
and the Russo-Japanese War.
Sent home to join the armored cruiser _West Virginia_, Lieutenant
Kittinger was an assistant engineer officer in 1906 and again made
the long voyage to the Far East and the Pacific. He became gunnery
officer of the same ship before the tour of sea duty ended and he was
appointed assistant inspector of ordnance at the Naval Gun Factory,
Washington. In 1910-13 he was senior engineer officer of the battleship
_Minnesota_, visiting Europe and then to Cuba and Vera Cruz. Again
ashore, he was in charge of the smokeless powder works at Indian Head
and executive officer of the station of the Naval Proving Ground, going
from there to the Fore River Shipyard as naval inspector of machinery.
Then came two years of sea service in a destroyer.
As executive officer of the _Corsair_, Lieutenant Commander Porter was
an uncommonly experienced and capable seaman and navigator and, of
course, knew the ship from keel to truck and what she could do in all
weathers. Third on the list was Lieutenant Robert E. Tod as navigating
officer. He was one of the foremost yachtsmen of the United States, a
commodore of the Atlantic Yacht Club, and a licensed master mariner
who had sailed his own large vessels without the aid of a skipper. The
gunnery officer, Ensign A. K. Schanze, was a graduate of the Naval
Academy who welcomed the opportunity to return to the Service. The
chief engineer of the _Corsair_, J. K. Hutchison, who had been in her
for several years, decided to stand by the ship through thick and thin,
as did his assistants, A. V. Mason and W. F. Hawthorn. This was true
also of Lieutenant R. J. McGuire who had been the first officer of the
yacht and of Boatswain R. Budani and a number of the enlisted force.
The day’s work of making the _Corsair_ ready for sea, the unaccustomed
drudgery and the uncertainty which filled the ship with rumors, are
reflected in the letters and diaries of the youthful seamen whose motto
was, “We don’t know where we’re going but we’re on our way.” One of
them wrote as follows:
_April 3rd. 1917._ The President of the United States to-day declared
this nation to be at war with Germany.... _4th._ Have determined that
I had better join the Army or Navy, as we are really at war. Most of
my friends are going to try to go to Plattsburg and get commissions. I
do not think I shall do this.... _6th._ A lot of men are planning to
go to the Mosquito Fleet school at Newport. I can’t see it. Will go on
a foreign-bound ship or none. Have decided to learn radio and join the
Navy as an operator if I can learn it soon.
_April 13th._ Still plugging at radio. I am getting a little
impatient. Think I shall enlist very soon.... _20th._ Almost ready
to leave the office. Hate to go, but war is war and it’s no fault of
mine. Sorry there is war, but there is only one thing to do—see it
through.... _26th._ Finished all my work in the office and took away
my things. I wonder if I’ll ever get through the war and come back
to my old job.... _27th._ On this day I made my final determination
to enlist in the Navy. Saw Lieutenant Tod and Captain Porter who
recommended me for the _Corsair_. Was enrolled in the Navy and
assigned to this ship, with orders to report at once. My rank is
seaman....
_May 2nd._ First day of decent weather on this ship and we worked like
slaves. Coaling, cleaning decks, and drill. The food so far is good.
Home liberty for the night.... _3rd._ Was elected to mess, with Jack
Faison. Worst job in the world. We washed hundreds of dishes, knives,
etc., but got the fo’castle clean for the first time.... _4th._ Same
kind of work, although we added setting-up exercises and semaphore.
We were signed out of the Reserves (for coast patrol) into Class II,
regular U.S.N. service call.... _5th._ Spent most of the morning
learning knots in ropes. Also had to clean decks. Brought aboard the
small arms. Stood watch from noon to 4 P.M. Chased away two suspicious
looking Wops. Six men are to be sent off the ship soon. If I am
elected there is going to be one awful kick.
_May 8th._ This morning we had boat drill and I stroked the cutter.
Then the head gunner and I showed the rest of the men how to take
down, sight, and load a Springfield rifle. After that we practiced
signals and had infantry drill with full equipment. The new boatswain
treats ’em rough and he bawled me out all day. Rumors on this ship
spread like wildfire. First we are to be a flagship and then a
dispatch boat and then to patrol the English Channel until nobody
knows anything. There goes the boatswain’s whistle which means turn to.
_May 11th._ Spent the entire day at the Armory getting clothes. The
only decent thing about Navy red-tape is the cheap price which we pay
for stuff. We stood in line just seven hours. The _Corsair_ now looks
like a real battleship. The paint is all on, also the gun mountings.
We hear that the Kaiser has offered a big reward to the U-boat captain
who sinks this boat, because it belongs to J. P. Morgan. Here’s hoping
he is disappointed! I learned a new way yesterday of making a deck-mop
out of canvas. It is very useful.... _14th._ We got our orders to-day
and sail for the Navy Yard to-morrow. The dope is that we leave
for good on Friday. We expect to be sent to the coast of Maine for
two weeks’ target practice, then to Newport where we get definite
sailing orders for some foreign service.... _15th._ Had a good trip
from Fletchers’ to the Navy Yard and then a terrible day. We had to
coal ninety tons of soft coal in buckets and shovels. The crew is
dog-tired and I never saw such a dirty crowd. I pray we may never have
to live to-day again.
(Note. Inserted later. _This day was repeated in France once a week.
We soon got so used to it that it became routine._)
_May 16th._ We had been asleep two hours when the fire call was rung
and all hands had to march double-quick to the _Princess Irene_, a
converted German liner. It was a pretty bad fire and we were detailed
to haul hose for three hours. To-day was spent in washing the ship and
loading meat aboard. We are taking on provisions for six months. The
work here in the Navy Yard is something fierce and I shall be glad to
go to sea. I bought shore liberty from another gob for two dollars to
go home and take a bath.
_May 17th._ To-day a strict censorship was put on us. All our mail
is read by the executive officer before we send it out. Also no news
of any kind is handed to us. We are not even allowed to tell our
families when or where we sail. All the dope is that we are going
abroad soon. I visited the _Noma_ and the _Harvard_ to-night, but they
can’t compare with the _Corsair_. We also looked over some of the
battleships and destroyers. Eleven of them left for France to-day. We
now get home leave once a week. I washed some clothes to-day. They
were in awful shape. We loaded ten tons more of provisions. Also got
shot in the arm for typhoid and was vaccinated. I am all in to-night.
_May 18th._ To-day has been more like the real Navy. I was on anchor
watch from 4 P.M. to 6 and again in the morning. I went aboard a
submarine to-night and it was the most interesting craft I have ever
seen, but I would not care to ship in her. My arm is a lot better
to-night, but still sore. The food is not nearly as good as it was,
mostly because the cook is lazy, but I think the skipper has got
his number.... _19th._ It looks very much as if we would sail any
day now. All stores, ammunition, etc., are aboard and we are living
a life of comparative ease. Now they say we are going to convoy the
United States Commission to Russia. I hope we do.... _21st._ Captain
Kittinger told us this morning to get all the warm clothes we could
as we are going to a cold climate. This sounds like Russia or the
North Sea. Everybody says for sure we are going over soon, so I guess
that must be right. I was recommended by the chief boatswain for a
coxswain’s job and I hope I get the appointment. Dave Tibbott got one,
too. Pay-day to-day, but I did not get a cent, as by some error of the
Department my name was not on the list. Am studying hard on the deck
and boat book and the seaman’s manual.
_May 22nd._ Got offered a job as yeoman, but I don’t want to be a
pen-pusher if I can help it. Mr. Tod advised me to take it and say
nothing if the commander makes a point of it.... _24th._ This has been
a trying day. In the first place a lot more men were transferred off
the boat and it makes us all nervous. So far eight have got the gate.
I painted the skylights and covers all the afternoon. We are still at
the Navy Yard. Because of the _Mongolia_ accident all our ammunition
was condemned, so we had to unload it. The weight to carry was enough
to pull all the rivets out of your back-bone. I suppose it will be the
same when we load it again. We still don’t know for sure whether we
will be kept on the boat. Several more men expect to get the hook.
[Illustration:
_Copyright by Kadel and Herbert, N. Y._
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER WILLIAM B. PORTER, LATER COMMANDING U.S.S.
CORSAIR, AND LIEUTENANT ROBERT E. TOD, NAVIGATOR]
_May 26th._ I have the P.O. mess. Dirty job. Another man got canned
to-day. I do wish they would settle on the crew. I understand now
that the _Corsair_ will sail for Gravesend, England, on Thursday. Mr.
McGuire told me last night that he is afraid some more men will
have to be put off for lack of room. It certainly keeps us feeling
jumpy.... _29th._ Coaled ship all day. It was a frightful job. It was
shot onto the decks and we shovelled it into the bunkers. We took on
350 tons and the dirt and coal dust are unspeakable. To add to the
discomfort it rained all day. To-morrow is a national holiday, but not
for us.
_May 30._ To-day we spent washing the ship. We turned loose the hose
for four hours and it looks better, but is not clean by a long shot.
I have caught a rotten cold. To-day more of the crew got fired.
Thirty-two regulars from the _South Carolina_ came aboard to fill up
the crew. We now have a full complement.... _31st._ Still raining. I
have never known such beastly weather. We are still loading stores and
I don’t understand where all the stuff is put. We are carrying the
fleet paymaster and the fleet postmaster, so it looks as if we would
also be the fleet dispatch boat on the other side. Heaven only knows
when we will sail. We have been expecting to go every night. Liberty
is very scarce these days.
_June 1st._ Still more rain. I don’t expect a decent day this summer.
We are still loading, loading, loading. Food, clothes, and ammunition.
A hundred and fifty pounds on my back is nothing any more. They first
announced that we were to have liberty to-morrow and then cancelled
it. Haven’t been mess cook or on watch for five days. Hope my good
luck continues. The regulars are a good bunch, with few exceptions,
and I am surprised that most of them are so young. They run from
nineteen to twenty-two on an average, barring the petty officers who
are older.
_June 4th._ We sail definitely to-morrow, nobody knows where. In the
afternoon I went to the Subtreasury with the paymaster to get money.
We both carried guns and brought back $10,000 in gold to the ship. It
was some load to carry.... _5th._ We shoved off from the Navy Yard at
8.30 A.M. and are now heading north in Long Island Sound. No idea yet
where we are heading for. We cruised in the Sound all day and anchored
at Whitestone for the night. Got our battle billet to-day. I am as
follows:
_Fire._ Extinguisher in crew quarters.
_Boat._ Big motor sailer.
_Gun._ Fire control aft.
_Arm and away._ Fire control aft.
This is a joke on me. It was raining the other morning and we
were getting under way. Everybody was dressed in dirty working
whites. The bos’n yelled at me, “Hey, get the messenger for’ard.”
I immediately rushed down to my locker, broke out a clean suit of
whites, and reported to the bridge for messenger watch. I could
hear the bos’n cursing all over the deck. The mate finally spotted
me and asked what I was doing on the bridge. I told him the bos’n
had put me on messenger watch, and the mate said, “Messenger watch!
Hell! The messenger is a rope, you poor boob!” It turned out that
the “messenger” was a long line which was stowed forward and he was
wondering what in Sam Hill had happened to me. The “messenger” is used
to hoist the motor sailer.
_June 6th._ Spent the morning overside, scrubbing the ship. At one
o’clock we hove anchor and cruised down to Staten Island. There are
eleven warships here with us.... _7th._ Coaled ship all day at the
Navy Yard. Filled the bunkers and then put thirty tons on deck in
bags. The ship was a holy mess. Before breakfast we were over the side
scrubbing.... _8th._ Spent most of the day washing the whole ship. We
left the Navy Yard and are tied to a dock at the foot of 80th Street
in the Hudson River. The _Seattle_, _Birmingham_, and the _Aphrodite_
are anchored near us. Got paid $13.00 to-day. So much money makes me
dizzy.
_June 11th._ I got what amounts to a promotion. I am signal-man on
the bridge. I handle all the signals, flags, semaphore, blinker, and
searchlights, excepting radio. It lets me out of all the hard deck
work. It will take lots of practice to make good, but I am coming
along fairly well.... _12th._ Three large transports are anchored
off us, crowded with regular infantry. We hear we are to convoy them
across. We shall be starting very soon. The dope is that we are to
act as convoy all summer.... _13th._ We are told that there will be
no liberty to-night, so that means business. I called up father and
he came to see me and said good-bye. The day was spent in putting on
the finishing touches for sea. We think we are going over with about
thirty other ships. The _Seattle_ is the flagship. There will be
cruisers, destroyers, our type of vessel, and the transports....
This young sailor and his comrades were about to take part in one of
the most memorable voyages in American history. The crowded transports
at which they gazed bore Pershing’s first contingent, the vanguard of
an army two million strong. They presaged the enormous flow of troops
and material, the bridge of ships which should finally shatter the
military power of Germany. There was nothing outwardly dramatic in this
sailing of this little fleet of transports. It stole out in secret and
no newspaper hinted at its departure. The men in khaki belonged to
regular regiments whose names and numbers meant nothing to the people
of their country. It was to be the destiny of most of these unknown men
to fall, dead or wounded, on the fields of France, but the regiments
came back, and then the country knew them as they marched down Fifth
Avenue, wildly cheered and pelted with flowers—the stern, bronzed ranks
of the First Division.
They filled the decks of this first convoy, companies and battalions of
the Sixteenth, the Eighteenth, the Twenty-Sixth, and the Twenty-Eighth
infantry regiments which were to win glory at tremendous cost in the
victorious assaults at Toul, at Cantigny, at Soissons, at Saint-Mihiel,
and in the desperate advances of the Meuse and the Argonne.
It was the Navy’s job to shepherd them across the sea in safety. While
the crew of the _Corsair_ was busied with rumor and conjecture, her
official record or confidential “War Diary” briefly noted the facts in
the case:
_April 28th._ _Corsair_ taken over by the Government at Fletchers’
Ship Yard, Hoboken, New Jersey.
_April 28th to May 15th._ Fitting out for duty as scout patrol, Third
Naval District. During first week in May information was received that
ship would operate with Nantucket Patrol when ready for sea.
_May 15th._ Sailed from Fletchers’ Ship Yard to Navy Yard to receive
battery and continue fitting out. Commissioned as per following
letter:
_Office of the Commandant Third Naval District_
_Navy Yard, Brooklyn, N.Y. May 14, 1917_
From: Commandant, Third Naval District.
To: Lt. Com’dr T. A. Kittinger, U.S.N.,
Commanding Officer.
Subject: _Corsair_, S.P. No. 159, placed in commission.
1. As authorized in reference (a) the _Corsair_, S.P. No. 159, is
hereby placed in full commission, 15 May, 1917, 3.00 P.M.
N. R. USHER
_Rear Admiral, U.S.N._
Copy to Navy Department { Operations.
{ Bureau of Nav.
Commander Patrol Force, U.S. Atlantic Fleet.
_May 19th._ Received orders to fit out for distant service, to be
ready on May 30, 1917.
_June 4th._ Received orders to report to Rear Admiral Albert Gleaves,
U.S. Navy, for temporary service.
_June 5th._ Left Navy Yard, New York, for shaking down cruise in Long
Island Sound.
_June 6th._ Proceeded to anchorage at Tompkinsville for conference
with Captain W. B. Fletcher, U.S.N., on the U.S.S. _Noma_.
_June 7th._ Proceeded to the Navy Yard for coal.
_June 8th._ Joined U.S.S. _Seattle_ at anchorage, North River, New
York.
_June 14th._ Sailed with First Expeditionary Force from United States
to France.
The troop-ships in Group One of this First Expeditionary Force were the
merchant steamers _Tenadores_, _Saratoga_, _Havana_, and _Pastores_.
The escort assigned to them comprised the cruiser _Seattle_, flagship
of Rear Admiral Gleaves, the yacht _Corsair_, the armed transport
_DeKalb_, and the destroyers _Wilkes_, _Terry_, and _Roe_. Three other
groups followed in a similar arrangement. The secret orders received by
the commander of the _Corsair_ were as follows:
From: Commander Destroyer Force, Commanding
U.S. Convoy Operations in the Atlantic.
To: Convoy Group Number One.
Subject: Movement Order.
1. Execute Operation Order No. 1 of 7 June, 1917.
Escort arrive Ambrose Channel Lightship at 7.00 A.M., 14 June.
Convoy arrive Ambrose Channel Lightship at 7.30 A.M., 14 June.
Group One will, on arrival at Ambrose Channel Lightship, assume
following formation:
Terry O . O Wilkes
.
DeKalb O . O Seattle (2 points starboard
. bow of leading transport,
. distance 2000 yards)
.
O Tenadores
Havana O
Roe O O Saratoga O Corsair (On
beam 3rd transport,
distance
2000 yards)
Pastores O
Distance between transports 600 yards.
(Signed) ALBERT GLEAVES
[Illustration: FITTING THE CORSAIR FOR THE WAR ZONE]
The instructions for warding off submarine attack have more than a
passing interest. They signified a new chapter in the work of the
American Navy, with no doctrine as precedent—the task of transporting
an army across three thousand miles of ocean and protecting it against
an enemy which was supremely confident that its undersea warfare could
not be thwarted, which had boasted that it could prevent the landing of
an American army in France. In a way, this was a momentous experiment.
How thoroughly and intelligently the Navy had studied the problem may
be discerned in these extracts from its confidential orders to the
_Corsair_ and the other ships of the escort:
Reports of enemy submarine activity indicate that the area of greatest
activity is east of Longitude Twenty West, and within a circle radius
five hundred miles from Fayal, Azores. Submarines may be operating
on the Atlantic coast of the United States and Canada. Every effort
has been made to hold secret the sailing of the convoy but it may be
assumed that the departure of convoy from the United States and the
hour of departure will be communicated to the enemy. It is possible
that particular effort will be made by the enemy to accomplish the
destruction of the convoy, and no part of the water traversed may be
assumed to be free from submarines.
Ships will make every effort to maintain distance accurately and will
be careful not to drop astern, particularly at night or in thick
weather. Speed will be assigned by signal. During daylight every
effort will be made to determine the revolutions necessary to make
the speed of the convoy in order that each ship may maintain a more
nearly constant speed during the darkness.
Convoy will be manœuvred as necessary by the Battle Signal Book. Ships
will manœuvre independently in accordance with the Rules of the Road
in all cases when necessary to avoid collision. When convoy alters
course each ship of the convoy will turn in the wake of the next ahead
except in zigzagging when all turn together.
There will be two well-protected and arranged lookout stations aloft;
one on each side of the mast as high as possible, capable of holding
four lookouts each. There will be four well-protected and arranged
lookout stations on each side of the ship, capable of holding two
lookouts each. During daylight there will be an officer in each top,
in addition to lookouts. At all times there will be an officer in
charge of lookouts on deck who will make periodic inspections. The
communication system from lookout stations to bridge will be tested
frequently.
Lookouts will be carefully selected for their fitness for lookout
duty—keen eyesight, intelligence, and freedom from seasickness are
essential qualities. A school for lookouts will be held daily. They
will be instructed to report everything they see. In so far as
practicable they will be furnished with binoculars and each lookout
will always use the same glass. Each lookout will be assigned a
definite sector and will be required to maintain the closest possible
watch within that sector, no matter what may be happening in other
sectors.
Gun crews will be at all times in the immediate vicinity of their
guns. One man of each crew will be at all times on watch. Daily
pointing, loading, and fire control drills will be held. When
conditions permit and upon orders from the Group Convoy Commander,
target practice will be held in accordance with the General Signal
Book.
No radio message will be sent except in great emergency involving the
safety of the ship. A continuous radio watch will be maintained. If it
becomes necessary to communicate by radio, the cipher contained in the
operation order will be used.
All vessels will be darkened so that no ray of light shall show
outboard between sunset and sunrise. A single gleam of light may cause
the loss of the ship. Sentries will make constant rounds to insure the
strict enforcement of this order throughout the ship. Navigational
lights will not be shown except when specifically ordered by the
convoy commander or when immediately necessary to avoid collision and
then only long enough to meet the emergency. Range lights will not be
shown and all lights will be dimmed to two miles visibility.
Smoke from the funnels must be reduced to a minimum both by day and
night. All vessels will keep fuel so trimmed that maximum speed can
be maintained toward end of voyage. Neither the whistle or the siren
shall be used in submarine waters except in case of emergency. Care
will be exercised that the leads of the siren and whistle cords are
such that these cannot be accidentally pulled or become jammed.
A station bill will be prepared showing the stations at fire quarters
and abandon ship. Daily drills at fire stations and abandon ship will
be held until all persons on board become familiar with their duties.
Necessary instructions in regard to rendezvous and courses will
be found in the sealed instructions. These will be opened only as
directed on the outside of the envelope. Before dark a rendezvous for
4 P.M. of the day following will be signalled by the Escort Commander.
Nothing that floats will be thrown overboard. All waste material
that can be burned will be burned. Tin cans must be well punctured
before being thrown overboard. Garbage that cannot be burned shall
be accumulated in suitable receptacles and thrown overboard from all
ships simultaneously one hour after sunset each night.
_Submarine Attack_
The following is generally accepted:
Submarines on surface are visible on the horizon. Submarine awash is
visible about five miles. Submarine submerged, periscope showing,
is not visible more than two miles unless periscope appears against
skyline. Porpoising of submarine as it comes to the surface to obtain
sight through periscope creates a distinct wake which is more clearly
visible than the wake of periscope when submarine is steadied.
Under poor conditions of atmosphere and sea the probability of
detecting a submarine decreases. It follows that constant vigilance
alone will insure the early detection of a submarine. The wake of a
torpedo is distinctive and can easily be picked up in smooth water at
a distance of two thousand yards. In rough water it is difficult to
observe the wake.
[Illustration: NUMBER TWO GUN CREW ON WATCH]
[Illustration: THEY ARE ALL SEA DOGS TOGETHER]
Daylight attack by surface craft (enemy raider), will be handled by
signal from the Convoy Commander. Daylight attack by submarines shall
be handled as follows by each vessel:
(a) Open fire instantly on any submarine sighted. Don’t delay the
first shot even if it is apt to go wild,—it will show the direction of
the submarine and will have a pronounced moral effect.
(b) Continue to fire as rapidly as possible. Short shots interfere
with the ability of the submarine to see and aim.
(c) If submarine appears less than six points on bow and not more than
2000 yards away, head for submarine at best speed.
(d) If submarine appears more than six points on bow, abeam, or on the
quarter, head directly away from submarine at best speed.
(e) If torpedo wake only is seen, fire gun immediately and indicate
direction to other ships and manœuvre to avoid torpedo as in case of
submarine, i.e.—turning towards torpedo if less than six points.
(f) Other ships of convoy turn from direction of submarine and scatter
at best speed, maintaining keenest lookout for torpedo wake and for a
possible mate of the attacking submarine.
(g) Resume course when it is deemed that your vessel is outside the
danger zone of attacking submarine.
_Night Attack:_—All vessels instantly change course ninety degrees
either to port or starboard. Course will be resumed before any vessel
has proceeded ten miles after ninety degrees change. If any vessel is
damaged by torpedo, that vessel will act independently and all other
vessels of convoy escape at best speed. The damaged vessel may send
out radio distress signals provided for merchant vessels.
Owing to the presence of escorting ships it is not probable that
submarines will be caught on the surface and therefore will not
attempt to use her guns. It is very probable that the first indication
of the presence of a submarine will be the wake of her torpedo.
Mines, floating or submerged, may be encountered. All floating
objects, the character of which is uncertain, must be carefully
avoided. Floating mines have recently been encountered under the
following conditions:
(a) Two mines connected by lines.
(b) Secured to bottom of dummy periscopes which were mounted in a box
or other object.
(c) In waterlogged boats, used as decoys.
(d) Attached to wreckage of various kinds.
If submarine is sighted or if gunfire from any ship indicates attack,
destroyers and fast yachts of escort will head at best speed in
direction of submarine, force it to submerge, and attack as conditions
permit. They will rejoin convoy at earliest possible moment. If any
ship is damaged by torpedo, two destroyers will stand by ship, those
nearest of escort, affecting such rescue as may be necessary and
possible.