UNCLE SAM’S BRIDGE OF SHIPS
When the _Corsair_ again meets a blow,
The crew they will surely all know,
Tho’ the distance be great,
They’ll work early and late
To make the good port of Lisboa.
It’s hither and thither and there,
But divil a bit do we scare,
For the captain and crew
Will see the thing through
In the dear little gray _Corsair_.
THE FO’CASTLE GLEE CLUB
Ready again to tussle with the wintry seas offshore, the _Corsair_
sailed from Lisbon on January 26, 1918, and returned to her base at
Brest at the usual cruising speed of fourteen knots. There were many
pleasant memories of the smiling, gracious city on the Tagus, and a few
broken hearts which were soon mended among the Yankee mariners who had
sterner business and were anxious to get on with the war. They found a
greatly increased activity at Brest, where the largest transports were
pouring the troops ashore in swelling volume and thousands of negro
stevedores emptied the holds of supplies which overflowed the wharves
and the warehouses. The bold prediction of an American bridge of ships
across the Atlantic was rapidly becoming a reality and the German
confidence in ruthless submarine warfare was an empty boast, thanks to
the skill and courage of the Allied naval forces.
In one of the American yachts, as a seaman, was Joseph Husband, a
trained writer who portrayed the swift expansion of activity in such
words as these:[4]
The flag has come into its own again. In the bright sunshine almost
a hundred ships swing slowly at their anchor chains, a vast floating
island of steel hulls, forested with slim, sparless masts and faintly
smoking stacks. Our anchor is lifted and the chain rumbles up through
the hawse-pipe. Slowly we steam past a wide mile of vessels to our
position.
Here are the flags of the nations of the world, but by far the most
numerous are the Stars and Stripes. The red flag of the English
merchantman is much in evidence, and so are the crosses of Denmark,
Sweden, and Norway, and the Tri-Color of France. From a big freighter
flies the single star of Cuba. The red sun of Japan and the green
and yellow ensign of Brazil snap smartly in the breeze. A few of the
freighters are painted a leaden gray, but for the most part they are
gay with camouflage. The spattered effects of the earlier days are now
replaced by broad bands of flat colors. Black, white, blue, and gray
are the favorites, slanting to the bow or stern and carried across
life-rafts, boats, superstructures, and funnels. Some appear to be
sinking by the head, others at a distance seem to be several vessels.
It is a fancy dress carnival, a kaleidoscope of color. One and all
they are of heavy and ugly lines. On forward and after decks the masts
seem designed only to lift the cargo booms and spread the wireless.
The oil-burners are even more unshiplike, for a single small funnel is
substituted for the balanced stacks of coal-burning steamers.
Fore and aft on the gun-decks the long tubes of the guns point out
over bow and stern. Yankee gun crews, baggy blue trousers slapping in
the breeze, stand beside them and watch us pass. Blue-clad officers
peer down at us from the bridges. Aloft, hoists of gay signal flags,
red, yellow, white, and blue, flutter like confetti in the air. From
signal bridges bluejackets are sending semaphore signals with red and
yellow flags. A big American ocean-going tug churns through the fleet.
On our right is a French mine-layer, long rows of mines along her
deck. Fast motor-boats slide in and out among the vessels. Above, like
dragonflies, three seaplanes soar.
The outward-bound convoy of empty freighters is ready. Bursts of steam
from bows indicate that anchor engines are lifting the big mud-hooks
from the harbor’s floor. One by one the ships steam slowly out of
port; converted yachts and small French destroyers on either side. Out
where the entrance broadens to the open sea, a big kite balloon tugs
at the small steamer far beneath it and seems to drag it by a slender
cord of steel.
[Illustration: THE HOME OF THE AMERICAN NAVAL OFFICERS’ CLUB IN BREST]
Instead of a few American naval officers ashore in Brest, there were
scores of them from transports, supply ships, and the escort divisions.
Their social headquarters, which had become almost indispensable, was
the spacious building of the American Naval Officers’ Club on the
Place du Château, conveniently near the water-front. The club had been
organized in September, 1917, by a group of naval officers among
whom Lieutenant Robert E. Tod, of the _Corsair_, was the most active
in promoting its interests and making it successful. Captain Fletcher,
later a rear admiral, was the first president and was succeeded by
Admiral Wilson when he arrived in November. Lieutenant Milton Andrews
served as secretary, and a board of directors administered the affairs
of the club whose membership was strictly naval.
The comfortable French mansion was well furnished and equipped, with
a restaurant, reading-room, billiard-room, and bedrooms, and during
1918 there were more than six hundred members who enjoyed this haven
when they came in weary of the sea. The name was changed to the Naval
Officers’ Mess, as more appropriate. The club-house had been purchased
by Lieutenant Tod personally, in order to facilitate matters, and
when the war was over and the naval fleet was homeward bound, he
presented the building to the French Government as a permanent club for
the officers of the Allied naval services. All members of the Naval
Officers’ Mess were to retain their connection in this new organization
which is called “The Cercle Naval.”
Here the officers of the _Corsair_ foregathered when they returned from
Lisbon, to catch up with the gossip of their trade. They found the
club filled with new members and visitors, the Regular Navy enjoying
reunions and swapping yarns of bygone cruises on the China station or
in the Mediterranean, or of service in the Spanish War when these
sedate captains and rear admirals had been flighty youngsters or
consequential two-stripers. The captain of a huge transport fetching
in ten thousand doughboys sat in a corner with the skipper of a little
“fish boat” from Gloucester which was trawling for German mines in the
channels of the Gironde or the Loire. The officers of the Reserve Force
met college chums or formed new friendships and compared notes on the
ways and means of scuppering Fritz.
Admiral Wilson had perceived that with more escort vessels at his
command and an increasing force promised, he could gain efficiency by
distributing his ships at several bases along the French coast, from
Brest to Bordeaux, under district commanders. This would enable him to
give better protection and to move the convoys more rapidly as they
went in and out of the other ports of American entry. In accordance
with this plan, the _Corsair_ was detached from the Brest force and
ordered to make her headquarters on the river Gironde below Bordeaux.
The area was in the patrol district of Rochefort which was in charge of
Captain Newton A. McCully, U.S.N., who was later made a rear admiral.
The _Corsair_ found it highly satisfactory to operate under this
capable and energetic officer who made two cruises in the yacht, in
March, when she went out to meet laden troop convoys and escorted them
in to France. The coöperating French naval force was directed from
the station ship _Marthe Solange_ which was anchored at Verdon on the
Gironde.
After coaling ship at Brest, the _Corsair_ started for her new base
on January 31st, escorting several supply ships which were bound for
Bordeaux and loaded with aeroplane equipment and munitions. How rumor
flew about and was eagerly, solemnly discussed is indicated in these
bits from a sailor’s diary:
_January 31st._ Hauled out of Brest with our convoy at three in the
morning, proceeding at nine knots. At Quiberon we picked up the rest
of them and headed for Bordeaux, the destroyers _Warrington_ and
_Monaghan_ with us. I understand that we are not to go all the way up
to Bordeaux, but will base at our own Navy aviation camp some thirty
miles down the river. Hear they will work us to death. Hope we will
have a chance to run up and see the city.
_February 1st._ Steamed up the river and stopped at aviation camp at
Pauillac. Incidentally there are a thousand sailors here and not one
flying machine. About five hundred Austrian prisoners and six hundred
Germans are helping build the camp. Got Bordeaux liberty and arrived
there after dark. The city is under military law and there are all
sorts of fussy Army rules and regulations. We went to fourteen hotels
before we found a place to sleep. We couldn’t see the town, as it was
in darkness. Everybody has to be off the streets at 10.30 P.M. The
only criticism I have to make of the town is that there are altogether
too many soldiers in it.
_February 4th._ Got another liberty to-day. Heard some big news. The
_America_, on her way over here and loaded with troops, was torpedoed.
She was not seriously damaged and by dropping depth mines brought the
German submarine to the surface. The officers and crew were captured
alive and have been carried into Brest, along with the submarine.
Also, a few days ago a U-boat came up and surrendered to the _Dixie_,
the crew having killed the captain. The submarine was absolutely out
of provisions and supplies and the men were in bad shape. This is a
fine omen. (_Note:—I later discovered that these stories are untrue._)
_February 6th._ More big news. A German submarine came into Brest
harbor flying a white flag, and surrendered. We have her at a mooring
buoy all intact and fit for sea. They had run out of fuel oil and grub
and were fed up with the service. There wasn’t a chance of getting
back to Germany with the boat, so she sensibly gave herself up. I hope
they are all in the same rotten bad shape. (_Note:—This story of the
submarine surrendering at Brest is found to be all bunk._)
The yachts _Wakiva_ and _May_ now joined the _Corsair_ for escort duty
and the _Aphrodite_ and _Nokomis_ were added to the division force a
little later. In addition to the orders received from the American
commander of the naval district, the most explicit instructions came
from the French senior officer of the “Division des Patrouille de
Gascogne.” With the courtesy to be expected of him, he sent also a
translation in order to save trouble for his comrades of the American
Navy. At times the English phrasing had a Gallic twist, not enough to
perplex the _Corsair_ whose officers had become adepts at the French
nautical lingo, but the effect was a trifle confusing to the eye of a
layman, as for instance:
Signals between convoy and escort are to be done by the besides code.
Do signals only if necessary. The last ship in each line don’t show
any stern lights be ready to show navigation lights if necessary.
Zigzags are to be done according to the orders of the escort’s do (see
diagramms besides). All the ships show the flag K. Manœuvring is to
be executed only when the K is getting down all the ships do K, is to
be taken like the origin of the diagramm, which is to be sailed by
the beginning. Manœuvre when the signal gets down or when the least
stations according to the regular numerotage.
By fog, and on order of the escort if necessary by WT, each column
will steer like a special line each behind the escort ships on the
same side. The right line will then steer ten degrees right hand and
the left line five degrees left hand from the primitive curse of the
convoy.
Escort and convoy ships are ordered not to bring anything overboard.
Burn all you can and if impossible to burn, bring overboard rubbish
altogether at once in the beginning of night. All the rubbish spread
over the sea are precious indice for the submarine to know the curse
of the convoy.
During the rest of the winter and through the spring of 1918, the
_Corsair_ was with the convoys and continued to base in the Gironde.
The work seemed humdrum and monotonous to the crews, who pined for
excitement and encounters, but this very fact was proof that the
Navy was achieving the result expected of it, which was to keep the
road open to France. Submarines ran amuck now and then and strafed a
coastwise convoy of slow ships or sank an empty transport homeward
bound, but never for a moment was the prodigious movement of troops and
material interfered with or delayed. Grouping the steamers together and
screening them with escort vessels, as far as possible, had baffled the
high hopes of Von Tirpitz and his murderous gang.
The captains of these ships which moved deep-laden through the war
zone were learning the tricks of the trade and intelligently adapting
themselves to the exactions of the convoy system. Admiral Sims said of
them:
The advantages of the convoy were so apparent to me that, despite the
pessimistic attitude of the merchant captains, there were a number
of officers in the British navy who kept insisting that it should be
tried. In the discussion I took my stand emphatically on the side of
this school. From the beginning I had believed in this method for
combating the U-boat warfare. Certain early experiences had led me to
believe that the merchant captains were wrong in underestimating the
quality of their own seamanship. These intelligent and hardy men did
not know what splendid ship handlers they were. In my discussions with
them they had disclosed an exaggerated idea of the seamanly ability of
naval officers in manœuvring their large fleets. They attributed this
to the superior training of the men and the special qualities of the
ships. “Naval vessels are built so they can keep station and turn at
any angle at a moment’s notice,” they would say, “but we have no
men in our ships who can do such things.” They particularly rejected
the idea that when in formation they could manœuvre their ships in fog
or at night without lights. They believed they would lose more ships
through collision than the submarines could sink.
[Illustration: AMERICAN YACHTS CLUSTERED INSIDE THE BREAKWATER, BREST]
As a matter of fact, these men were entirely wrong and I knew it.
Their practical experience in handling ships of all sizes, shapes, and
speeds under a great variety of conditions is in reality much more
extensive than naval officers could possibly enjoy. I was sure that
they could quickly pick up steaming and turning in formation under the
direction of naval officers, the convoy commander being always a naval
officer. Indeed, one of my experienced destroyer commanders reported
afterwards that while he was escorting a convoy of twenty-eight ships
of different sizes, shapes, speeds, nationalities, and manœuvring
qualities, they kept their stations quite as well as battleships. This
ability was displayed when the convoy executed two fleet evolutions in
order to avoid a submarine.
This well-earned tribute to the master mariners who risked their lives
and their ships, voyage after voyage, finds confirmation in the records
of the _Corsair_. During the first cruise of February one finds such
entries as these:
At 11.45 P.M. ran into a thick fog. During the mid watch (February
11th) the _Munindies_ increased speed and came up close under the
stern of the _Corsair_. Later on she passed and at 6 A.M. was about
700 yards on port bow of _Corsair_. At daylight the fog lifted and all
ships were in sight but somewhat scattered. Convoy reformed in good
order and began to zigzag.
On the night of February 12th, about 1.50 A.M., sighted two boats on
the port quarter, distance 1000 yards. Boats made signals with rockets
and flash lamps. About this time the escort vessel _Wakiva_ opened
fire, the shells falling about 600 yards astern of the _Corsair_.
Signalled to _Wakiva_ that she was firing at survivors and ordered her
to pick them up. The convoy stampeded, assuming a submarine attack,
and was reformed in good order about 3 A.M.
Running through fog and darkness, again startled by the sound of guns,
the steamers of this convoy “reformed in good order” and steadily,
pluckily held on their blindfolded course. Only a sailor could realize
the immense difficulties of the job and how well it was carried on by
the plodding merchantmen who won no glory. The convoys were growing
larger and more complex to handle as the success of the system was
demonstrated. Where the _Corsair_ had escorted two or three steamers in
a group, fifteen or twenty were now sent out together. Her next tour
of sea duty in February was a fair sample of the work which was to
continue through many wearisome weeks, with little more diversion than
a variety of uncomfortable weather.
In obedience to radio orders [runs the report] the U.S.S. _Corsair_
anchored at Verdon 11.45 P.M., February 16th. Upon arrival found the
U.S.S. _Aphrodite_, U.S.S. _May_, and French sloop _Regulus_ for the
same duty. On the morning of February 17th was informed that the
convoy would be delayed one day on account of the non-arrival of some
of the ships. At 3 P.M. commanding officers of convoy and escort
present reported aboard the French station ship _Marthe Solange_
for orders and conference with the commanding officer of the Sixth
Patrol Squadron of the French Navy. The additional escort, the French
destroyer _Aventurier_, arrived during the conference. Orders and
information sheets were given to all concerned and explained or
discussed with the convoy captains. It was decided to show no stern
lights.
On February 18th the _Aphrodite_ got under way, followed by convoy
vessels Numbers 1 to 6 inclusive, in column. The _Regulus_ preceded
the _Aphrodite_ as pilot vessel. At 7.30 A.M. the _Corsair_ got under
way, followed by convoy vessels Numbers 9-10-11-12 in column, and
when clear the _May_ followed with convoy vessels Numbers 13-14-15.
Number 16, the American steamer _Camaguey_, did not arrive to join
the convoy. When the _Aphrodite_ cleared the net she proceeded at six
knots and convoy formed in double columns—ships 1-2-3-4—_May_—13-14-15
in left column, and ships 5-6-7-8—_Corsair_—9-10-11-12 in right
column. After passing the last buoy of Matelier Channel, convoy formed
in four columns and took up speed eight knots. _Aphrodite_ (chief
of escort) patrolled ahead; _Corsair_ and _Aventurier_ on starboard
flank; _May_ and _Regulus_ on port flank. A motor patrol boat escorted
until about 3 P.M. and then turned back. The sortie was preceded by
French aeroplanes.
Zigzagged until dark, then convoy steered base course. Fine weather,
heavy swell running from NW which did not retard the eight knot ships.
_February 19th_, convoy zigzagged during daylight. Good weather for
convoy operations.
_February 20th_, steamed with convoy until 10 A.M., then dispersed
as per orders. The _Aphrodite_, _Corsair_, and _May_ returned to
Pauillac for coal and the French escort shaped course for Brest.
In the search for incident during this long period of hard work and
few thrills, one must have recourse to the letters and diaries of the
_Corsair’s_ crew and pick out bits here and there. These hardy young
salts were playing the game in a fashion something like this:
On a run one night in March (to La Pallice) after leaving a Verdon
convoy, the _Corsair_ and _Aphrodite_ ran into a pretty stiff blow.
We were doing about fourteen knots or better with the wind and sea a
little on the port bow. A good-sized sea slapped into the port side
forward, by the petty officers’ quarters, smashing in one of the
deadlights of that compartment. The crash was tremendous. Everybody
asleep down there woke up with visions of the ship torpedoed, and out
of the hatch they boiled on the jump, mostly arrayed in the costume
which Nature provides for sailors. All were dazed and excited. One
of them no sooner hit the deck than a wave lifted our bow and he
skidded aft, nearly half the length of the ship, on the seat of his
trousers or where his trousers should have been. It was fortunate
for that sailor that our executive officer kept the decks smooth and
well-cared-for. The outfit couldn’t see the humor of the situation,
being soaking wet and unable to dope out what had happened.
_March 4th._ The ship was a mad-house to-day. They told us there would
be admiral’s inspection and we had to turn to on everything from the
bilges to the crow’s-nest. Every stitch of clothing in our boxes had
to be stowed somewhere. I was never so bored in my life. We sat around
from noon to four o’clock waiting for the blinkin’ admiral, but, of
course, he never showed up. These admiral’s inspections always give me
a pain in the eye. We have made ready several times and it’s always a
false alarm.
_March 10th._ The _Aphrodite_ spotted a floating German mine and
opened fire on it. She fired thirty-five shots and never hit it. We
turned around and sunk it on the third shot. It did not explode, but
filled with water and went down after a hole was put through it.
_April 4th._ Picked up our convoy consisting of the troop-ships
_Powhatan_, _Martha Washington_, and _El Occidente_, all packed
with Yankee soldiers. There are six destroyers with the escort,
including the _Caldwell_, one of the new flush-deckers. At 1 P.M. the
_Occidente_ sighted a periscope. We at once started submarine tactics,
screening the convoy while the _Winslow_ and _Sampson_ went back to
look for the sub. They dropped eighteen depth charges. Fritz must have
been shaken up some. He did not get a chance to shoot a torpedo, for
the destroyers were too alert.
_April 5th._ Captain Porter left the ship, going back to America on
leave. The rumor is that he will not return to this ship. It would
certainly be a big loss to us, as he is one fine seaman and navigator
as well as a splendid character of a man. We gave him three cheers
when he shoved off, and it seemed to touch him considerably. He stood
at salute in the boat until out of sight.
_April 6th._ This is the first anniversary of our entry into the war.
In consequence, all the American vessels had to dress ship. We coaled
all day and will finish to-morrow. In again, out again, coal again,
Finnegan! The _Martha Washington_ discharged her troops. They were
cavalry and nigger infantry. They were held up for several hours and
the darkies had us rocking all the time. They claimed they saw four
submarines sunk the other day after being attacked by eleven or nine.
_April 9th._ I got in trouble to-day. In the storm last night an
American ship came in and anchored four miles off. I was on signal
watch and read her flag hoist as LDBC, the _Rangely_, and reported her
as such. Discovered to-day that she was the LDQC or _Graster Hall_.
I caught all the blame. The _Q_ they had up was so terribly dirty
that in the distance and bad light it could not be taken for anything
else than a _B_. There was no alibi for me, however, and I don’t know
whether the bawling out I got will be all of it or not. It was my
mistake, an unavoidable one, but in war-time that makes no difference
in this man’s navy.
_May 10th._ Captain Kittinger is to be transferred to command a big
transport and Commander Porter is coming back to take this ship. I
shall be glad to see Captain Porter, but we are mighty sorry to see
Skipper “Bill” Kittinger go. The _Wakiva_ dropped over one of the new
300-pound depth bombs and pretty near blew herself up. She busted
several things in her engine-room.
_May 22nd._ Just as we came off watch at 4 A.M. in a dense fog we got
an S.O.S. from our old friend, the _Wakiva_. She was rammed and sunk
by the _Wabash_ of her convoy. She went down rather deliberately and
only two men were lost. We are sorry to cross her off the list, as
she was a willing worker, although slow. At 8 P.M. we met the largest
convoy of troop-ships that has come overseas. The first group of
fourteen ships carried forty-five thousand soldiers, to say nothing
of the naval crews aboard, and there were twelve destroyers in the
escort. The second group of nine ships had twenty-five thousand
troops. It was a great sight. They will be landed at Brest.
[Illustration: THE FAITHFUL WAKIVA, WHICH WAS SUNK IN COLLISION]
[Illustration: BIG TRANSPORTS IN BREST HARBOR]
_May 24th._ Hooray! We have thirty-five German prisoners to shovel
the coal from the lighters into the buckets. And, by gosh, these
square-heads went on strike and the kindly French let ’em get away
with it. If any prisoners went on strike in Germany it’s a cinch
they’d be shot full of holes. They don’t treat ’em rough enough in
France.
After looking over several of these _Corsair_ diaries, Commander
Kittinger had this shrewd and good-humored comment to offer:
The impressions which these youngsters jotted down were amusing and
often inaccurate, but they caught the spirit of the service and the
day’s work. When one of them felt aggrieved because he was “bawled
out,” he never stopped to take an inventory of his professional
qualifications and the duties thrust upon him as well as upon other
untrained and unseasoned lads. Nor did he always realize that he was
allowed to perform functions whereby he had the safety of a hundred
and twenty-five lives and a million dollars worth of irreplaceable
property between his two hands. There was no time to learn by
experience and every “bawling out” was, I hope, driving an important
fact home. Where else could one of these boys have learned such
valuable lessons and be on a pay-roll at the same time? Of course they
could not understand such methods, but the system soon separated the
sheep from the goats—the latter remaining at the business end of a
deck swab. Many times the skipper was not as angry as he appeared. The
first lesson was to say “Aye, Aye, Sir,” when told something important
instead of trying to explain. When a young man explains, he is not
listening to the order, but thinking up a reply.
To the _Corsair’s_ company the most interesting happenings during
the long period of convoy duty were the changes and promotions which
shifted many of the family to other ships and stations and brought
new faces aboard. Commander Kittinger had been advanced a grade on
the Regular Navy list since joining the _Corsair_ and was in line for
transfer to a larger ship. He was given the stately armed transport
_Princess Matoika_, formerly the _Princess Alice_ of the North German
Lloyd, and thereafter carried many thousand American troops in safety
to France. In this ship the roster of officers was more imposing than
in the yacht which served so faithfully, for Commander Kittinger now
gave orders to two lieutenant commanders, eleven lieutenants, and
twenty ensigns. Toward the _Corsair_ he felt affection and loyalty and
was glad that his war record had included a year with her, crossing
with the first American troops and battering about in the Bay of
Biscay. Drilled in the exacting school of the regular service, he had
only praise for the spirit, intelligence, and devotion of the Reserves,
officers and men, who had fitted themselves to circumstances and played
the game to the hilt.
After the war Commander Kittinger was sent to the Fore River Ship
Building Company as Naval Inspector of Ordnance. While there he
received the following letter:
_July_ 23, 1919
From: Director of Naval Intelligence,
To: Chief of the Bureau of Navigation:
Subject: Award of the Legion of Honor.
The Bureau is informed that by a decree of the President of the French
Republic the award of Member of the Legion of Honor with the rank of
Chevalier has been made to Commander Theodore A. Kittinger, U.S.N.,
with the following citation:
_Commander Kittinger, in command of the yacht Corsair, escorted the
O.V.H.N. convoys, etc._
It is requested that a copy of this letter be filed with this
officer’s record.
Lieutenant Commander Porter became the commander of the _Corsair_ on
May 31st, and held the position until the yacht returned home one year
later. It gratified him, of course, to have his own ship, and in the
opinion of his officers and crew the honor was well deserved. It was
a distinction also, and without precedent in a combatant ship, for
a Reserve officer to be given a vessel of the size and class of the
_Corsair_. He was later advanced to the naval rank of commander and
finished his service as a three-striper.
Lieutenant Commander Tod was detached to join the organization of
Admiral Wilson at Brest as Port Officer and was afterwards appointed
Director of Public Works. Both positions were important and involved
varied and arduous responsibilities. He was later promoted to the rank
of Commander. At a dinner given by the American naval officers of the
club in Brest, this rousing song of the Breton Patrol was rolled out
with a vigor that rattled the windows:
1. Oh we sing of a squadron patrolling the coast
From Cre-Ach to old Saint-Nazaire.
On the job for a year, we still say with a cheer,
_Nous resterons pendant la guerre_.
_Chorus_:
Though the bar’s _consigné_ and we’ve clumbed up to stay
At the very tip-top of the pole,
Still our drinks, short or tall, will be “WILSON, that’s all,”
The Chief of the Breton Patrol.
2. It’s a squadron that’s doing its best over here
Towards keeping command of the seas;
For by day or by night, standing by for a fight,
It’s the Breton Patrol of H. B.[5]
3. To the Point of Penmarch it is not very far;
Some forty-five miles of blue sea,—
That’s where some day poor Fritz will be blown into bits
By the Breton Patrol of H. B.
4. If we sail on request of the C.D.P. Brest,
With a convoy that’s bound for its goal;
If it’s rain, hail, or snow, the convoy must go,
That’s the job of the Breton Patrol.
5. If a depth charge turns over and falls in the sea,
And next moment your stern is no more,
There’s just one thing to do,—_Prenez vite le you-you_,
And pull for the Brittany shore.
[Illustration: CHIEF QUARTERMASTER FARR STANDS WITH FOLDED ARMS AND
INDICATES THAT HE HAS HIS SEA-LEGS WITH HIM]
[Illustration: COMMANDER KITTINGER SAYS GOOD-BYE TO LIEUTENANT
COMMANDER PORTER AS THE LATTER TAKES OVER THE COMMAND]
6. If the ship is _trop fort_, and you need a _corps-mort_,
Just to keep her quite safe in the bay,
You have only to go to brave Captain Loiseaux,
_Il nous faut le chameau, s’il vous plaît_.
7. When they’re coming too strong, and you find you’re in wrong,
In trouble at sea or on land,
There’s just one man to see and his name’s F. T. E.,[6]
To clear out the gear box of sand.
8. There’s a gallant French sailor who’s with us to-night,
He’s bound for a trip ’cross the sea;
So here’s _Merci beaucoup, bon voyage_, Admiral Grout,
From the Breton Patrol of H. B.
9. There are brave men in plenty and well known to all,
Who have come over here for the war,
But the best known of all is the one that we call
Old Robert E. Tod—Commodore.
10. If you want a good man, just to unload a van,
Or to anchor a ship in the _Rade_,
Or to work night and day, you have only to say,
“Where in hell is old Robert E. Tod?”
Lieutenant McGuire was made executive officer of the _Corsair_ when
Captain Porter took over the command. In time of peace Lieutenant
McGuire had been first officer of the yacht, so he was really stepping
into his old berth. Ensign Schanze, the efficient gunnery officer, had
been commissioned a lieutenant in December. In May he was transferred
from the _Corsair_ to the staff of Rear Admiral McCully, the District
Commander at Rochefort. For some time he acted as liaison officer on
board of the French station ship _Marthe Solange_, and his scientific
training was later employed in experimenting with and testing listening
devices for detecting enemy submarines.
Ensign Gray, the communications officer who had helped to make the
radio service of the _Corsair_ notable throughout the fleet, was
anxious to have a whirl at the destroyer game, like any proper-minded
young Navy man, and on May 28th he was transferred to the _Monaghan_ of
the Brest flotilla. Assistant Surgeon Laub was sent to the _Moccasin_
in April and Assistant Surgeon R. H. Hunt exchanged billets with
him for a short time, shifting from the _Corsair_ to the destroyer
_Nicholson_. Chief Engineer Hutchison stood by the ship until
September, although his health was poor and he had been compelled to
seek hospital treatment ashore. After leave at home he regained his
strength and sailed in the big transport _Agamemnon_. His position in
the _Corsair_ was filled by Lieutenant J. J. Patterson as engineer
officer. Assistant Engineer Mason received an appointment as ensign
in May and went ashore for staff duty at Bordeaux in the autumn. His
partner in the engine-room, Assistant Engineer Hawthorn, left the
_Corsair_ in June and was assigned to the naval auxiliary service as
a senior engineer officer. Boatswain Budani, who had polished off the
aspiring bluejackets and taught them to be regular, sea-going gobs, was
summoned to the Naval Aviation Headquarters at Paris and later sent to
Italy.
At the ward-room table were new officers to be welcomed into the briny
brotherhood of the _Corsair_, Ensign A. H. Acorn, Jr., Lieutenant
Gerald Nolan, Ensign J. W. McCoy, Ensign P. F. Wangerin, Ensign C. R.
Smith, Ensign S. K. Hall, Ensign R. V. Dolan, several of whom were
promoted to be lieutenants, junior grade. After the armistice and while
the _Corsair_ was in the North Sea and at Queenstown, there were other
changes which will be noted later.
Through the winter and spring the task of studying for commissions
which had bred so many headaches in the bunk-rooms below was getting
on famously. There were gloomy moments when, as has been said, one
candidate felt sure that the captain would recommend him for nothing
else than a firing squad, or another had believed that a “bawling out”
had utterly wrecked his prospects, but such dark forebodings were
mostly unfounded. Examining boards of officers were duly convened, or
recommendations made for the intensive course at Annapolis, and the
_Corsair_ was like a college grinding out diplomas at Commencement
time, excepting that the Navy course was far stiffer than the
requirements of the campus. There were no “snap courses” in the Bay of
Biscay and no bluffing the faculty.
The following enlisted men, with one warrant officer, were examined,
qualified, and given commissions with the rank of ensign:
_Enlisted as_
W. F. Evans, Jr. Seaman Sent to Annapolis
David Tibbott Seaman ” ” ”
R. G. Seger Seaman ” ” ”
E. B. Prindle Q.M. 2c. ” ” ”
E. L. Houtz Seaman, 2c. ” ” ”
C. N. Ashby Seaman, 2c. ” ” ”
W. J. Rahill Seaman ” ” ”
H. F. Breckel Elec. 1c. Radio Commissioned Overseas
A. C. Smith, Jr. Q.M. 2c. ” ”
C. S. Bayne Seaman ” ”
A. L. Copeland Seaman ” ”
J. T. Herne Seaman ” ”
A. J. Marsh Seaman ” ”
A. V. Mason Machinist ” ”
Chief Quartermaster F. S. Fair and Chief Commissary Steward H. A. Barry
passed the examinations successfully, but failed on the tests for
eyesight and were thereby disqualified for commissions, a misfortune
which keenly disappointed them and their shipmates. Commander Kittinger
volunteered this high opinion of them: “Two of the best men we had, I
regret to say, received no rewards and it was a loss to the service.
Fair and Barry get 100 per cent from me in every department. If they
were physically fit to be bluejackets it might seem as though they were
physically fit to be officers, but such were the regulations.”
[Illustration: FROM THE LEFT, LIEUT. SCHANZE, ENSIGN GRAY, LIEUT.
COMMANDER PORTER, CHIEF ENGINEER HUTCHISON, COMMANDER KITTINGER, AND
LIEUT. McGUIRE]
[Illustration: AT ROSYTH. BACK ROW, FROM RIGHT, LIEUT. NOLAN, DR.
AGNEW, COMMANDER PORTER, LIEUT. McGUIRE, ENSIGN ACORN FRONT ROW, LIEUT.
PATTERSON, ENSIGN WANGERIN, PAYMASTER ERICKSON]
Ensign Carroll Bayne stayed in the _Corsair_ for a little while as an
officer and was then transferred to staff duty at Brest, assisting
Lieutenant Commander Tod who was Port Officer at the time. In his diary
Bayne indicated what his duties were, and they suggest that the Naval
Reserve officer was expected to turn his hand to almost everything, and
at very short notice:
Mr. Tod took me around to-day to call on all the French admirals,
etc., and they were very courteous. I got an awful call down from an
American three-striper for not saluting him. I started to, but he
did not see me, so I knocked off. However, he came back and gave me
particular fits.... The _Leviathan_ came in to-day with ten thousand
troops. She is the most enormous thing I ever saw. It took three hours
to moor her. She bumped a tanker coming in, almost sank the _Burrows_
destroyer, and ended by sinking a French tug. The soldiers began
coming ashore before she was moored. That packet needs considerable
elbow-room. I went aboard the _Leviathan_ at 6 A.M. and almost got
lost in her. In fact, I did. Her bridge is much higher than the
_Corsair’s_ foretop. Weather beastly and we spent most of the day
getting coal barges to and from her....
_June 25th._ The _Leviathan_ sailed for the States. I was out there
until she left, helping to unshackle her and get her under way. I
have the night trick, so will have to sleep in the office. This is
some job.... The _Great Northern_ and _Northern Pacific_ came in with
troops and will leave to-morrow night. They are certainly making speed
back and forth these days.... _July 1st._ Started out at 6 A.M. and
boarded fifteen ships. One had run aground on a rock and her bow was
smashed and the fore-peak full of water. I made arrangements to dock
her to-morrow.
_July 4th._ Big parade to-day, but I saw none of it. Twenty-three
American transports came in and I had to board them all, a four-hour
job. We are expecting more troop-ships to-morrow. It is up to me to
get them coaled, watered, and ready to turn around.... _July 11th._
The _Von Steuben_ left to-night in a heavy storm. Commander Tod,
Major O’Neil, and I went out to meet a convoy of thirteen ships, all
carrying troops. The Major got very sick in the rough sea. We had the
devil of a time, and no other word applies. Got back at 3 A.M. and had
to anchor and then board all these ships in total darkness. Another
one of those ships from the Great Lakes broke down and that means work
for me to-morrow. This is the fourth one of the kind that has gone to
pot here. I wish they could be left at home.
_July 18th._ Roughest day yet, seas very high. I went over to assist
in getting the _Leviathan_ under way. She started off at seventeen
knots and her back-wash came within an ace of upsetting us. Had a
tough time making landings on this batch of troop-ships. When I got
alongside the _Westerdyke_ a huge wave slammed my boat against her,
carrying away all my superstructure and chewing things up generally.
We managed to get clear and stay afloat.
I got in wrong with the Army who claimed I stole a ship from them. A
collier came in, and as the Navy was badly in need of coal, I refused
to look at her manifest and sent her over to our repair ship _Panther_
and began to coal her. The Army got wise and put up a yell, but it was
too late and I got away with it. They say that if the trick is done
again they will report it to Pershing. Let ’em go to it, as long as
the Navy gets the coal when it needs it.
While the _Corsair_ was driving through the blustering winds and seas
of March, there came bright days now and then which were a harbinger
of springtime in Brittany. In a letter written on Palm Sunday, Chief
Quartermaster Farr depicted the following contrast with the grim
routine of the war by sea and land:
I have had a delightful day. In the first place, the weather is like
June and now it is moonlight and a dead calm is resting on the bay
and I feel the joy of life and the beauty of Nature. This morning I
went ashore to the Catholic church, and the entire population of the
little Breton fishing town must have been there. Of course I couldn’t
understand what was going on, but it was restful and soothing to say
your prayers and think a little and listen to the organ. A Frenchman
with a good voice sang “Hosanna, Glory to God,” and I prayed hard for
the English armies in the great battle which is now raging. Their
losses are heavy and I think of the terrible anxiety in England for
their boys. Not that there is any doubt of the outcome, but so many
brave men are dying, and when you read of the Ninth Division, say, as
particularly distinguishing itself, you can imagine the feelings of
the mothers of those men.
This afternoon several of us walked out to a little château built
in the time of Louis XVI which was very interesting. The old French
people were extremely hospitable, gave us tea, and showed us
everything. They had a beautiful little garden with lots of vegetables
growing, peach and cherry blossoms, wonderful hawthorn hedges, spring
flowers everywhere, the birds singing, and the whole landscape
peaceful and happy. It was hard to realize that the greatest battle
of the war is raging in the north.
We walked back to the Y.M.C.A. where we each had four fried eggs
with some of the Army engineer troops. They come from California and
Oregon, and are the best and huskiest-looking soldiers I’ve seen
yet. A darky was in the party, a Navy cook, and he was as good as a
minstrel show. He ordered six eggs, and as soon as they came on the
table he ordered another half-dozen. He said he was honin’ and pinin’
for to get to Dunkirk, and would probably get killed by a bomb if he
did, but “befo’ the Lawd, boss, I jes’ itches to go anyhow. It’s mah
destination, she sure is.”
I am mighty glad to have had this service in the ranks. I wouldn’t
have missed it for anything. It is the only way to know the real Army
and Navy.
FOOTNOTES:
[4] _A Year in the Navy._ Houghton Mifflin Co.
[5] H. B. Wilson.
[6] Commander Frank T. Evans, U.S.N.