THE U. S. S. “GYANDOTTE”
“What’s the land over there?” asked Nelson, nodding westward toward the
low, faint line of shore.
“North Carolina,” replied the tall youth whose sleeve bore the crossed
quills of a yeoman. “That’s Cape Hatteras, further along.”
Nelson craned his neck. The shore-line stretched out as though to meet
them, a distant angle of sand-reefs, slightly more distinct than the
land abeam.
“Is it?” he asked interestedly. “I’ve heard of Hatteras.”
“You’re in luck only to have heard of it,” grumbled the other. “Mostly
you feel it! We’re getting into it now. This is the roughest stretch
between Cape Cod and the Florida Keys. You want to try it when there’s
a good off-shore gale if you want some real fun! This your first
voyage?”
“My first in the Navy, except knocking around for a month or so on a
patrol boat up north. I’ve never been south before. I suppose you’ve
been in the service a long time.”
“Three years,” answered the yeoman nonchalantly yet proudly. “This is
my fourth ship. I was on the old _Missouri_ first. Then the _Montana_,
and after that the _Tacoma_. Now it’s this old tub.”
“Oh, is the _Gyandotte_ a tub?” asked Nelson with a smile.
“Sure she is. She’s sixteen years old and was out of commission until
the war started. They’ve tinkered her up so she’ll hold together for a
year or so, maybe. They say she’s got new engines, but I don’t know if
it’s so. Reckon the Old Man’s keeping her close to shore in case she
falls apart.”
Nelson looked through the port and across the leagues of tumbling
muddy-gray water. “At that it would be a long swim,” he said with a
smile. “Do you know where we’re going?”
The yeoman nodded above his folded arms. “Bahamas and around there.
Anyway, that’s what I heard. The papers had a piece about a German
raider off Great Abaco last week and I reckon we’re sent down to have
a look-see. But, shucks, there isn’t a German ship this side of the
Azores, unless it’s a sub that’s missed her way. We’ll go down there
and cruise around for a month without getting foot on shore and then
waddle home again and go into dry dock for repairs. It’s sure punk
luck, getting stuck on this old spile-driver.”
“You don’t think, then, that they’ll send the _Gyandotte_ across to the
other side?”
“Her? She couldn’t do it, not unless they towed her,” was the
contemptuous reply. “If you wanted to get across you’d better have
stuck to your patrol boat. They’re sending those over all the time.
Well, I’ve got to be stirring.”
The youth sighed and moved off along the spotless deck, his wide
trousers flapping around his long, thin shanks. Left to himself
Nelson watched the far, thin, low-lying streak of sand that was Cape
Hatteras and wondered if what the yeoman had told him as to the
ship’s destination was true. It was nearly a week since he had said
good-by to the _Wanderer_ and taken train for Norfolk. There he had
reported at the Navy Yard, according to orders, and been assigned to
the third class cruiser _Gyandotte_, at the time loading supplies
and taking on the final coat of gray war paint. The _Gyandotte_,
after the _Wanderer_, had seemed a truly majestic ship and that she
was headed straight for France or England had seemed quite within
the probabilities, until Nelson had mentioned the idea to others.
After that his hopes had dwindled, for his notion produced laughter
or sarcasm. He was assured that when the _Gyandotte_ saw the coast of
France the bilge-pump would be spouting gold dollars. And now this
other fellow, he of the crossed quills and long legs, had corroborated
previous pronouncements. It was rather discouraging, thought Nelson.
The cruiser was behaving very flippantly now, rolling and pitching at
a great rate, and he had to steady himself to keep on his feet. The
_Gyandotte_ was only a little over three thousand tonnage and was, as
the yeoman had said, an old ship. Her length was 305 feet. She was
schooner rigged, with two very tall funnels. For armament she carried
ten five-inch breech-loading rifles and six six-pounder rapid fire
guns. She had been credited with something under seventeen knots when
built, but there was a rumor current about the ship today that she
had been newly equipped with “kettles” that could drive her close to
twenty. Nelson was one of several hundred capable-looking young men
in blue flannel who had been gathered from many sources. Some, like
Nelson himself, were green hands, and some few were Reserves, but most
had seen more or less service on other ships. Nelson had been assigned
to the port watch and to the crew of Number Four gun of the main
battery as second shellman. That was interesting, although after the
first drill his arms ached from lifting the shells, and had the little
_Gyandotte_ been headed across the Atlantic instead of southward along
the coast he would have been more than contented.
They had steamed out of Norfolk early that morning in a heavy rain and
a flat green sea. Now, mid-afternoon, the rain had ceased and the sea
was no longer flat nor green. It was decidedly boisterous and looked
heavy with sand. Mist had taken the place of rain, a mist almost too
fine to be seen but which lay in globules and little pools on every
flat surface. There was a softness in the air that was new to Nelson, a
mildness that seemed to presage the southern latitudes toward which the
little gray cruiser was plowing her way.
So far, in spite of the fact that he had been aboard three days,
Nelson had made few acquaintances and no friends. This, however, need
not be wondered at, for it was almost equally true of all others on
the ship. It requires more than three days for officers and men to
find themselves and to get shaken down. The process of evolving order
out of the confusion resultant on gathering several hundred men of
all branches together on a ship quite new to them is a slow one. The
process begins at once and moves steadily, but a deal of training and
instruction is necessary, and the machinery of a modern warship is
complex indeed. Officers must learn to know each other and their men,
and the men, in the same way, must learn to know their officers and
each other. Every soul on board has a particular and personal duty,
or set of duties, to perform. When a member of the crew goes aboard
he receives his station billet which tells him his rating, his watch
number, his part of the ship, his mess, his boat and his station
at quarters and fire quarters. He finds himself immediately under
the authority of a leader who is, in turn, subordinate to a higher
authority. A battleship has six departments: Gunnery, Navigation,
Engineering, Construction, Medical and Pay. These, in turn, are
subdivided into seventeen divisions, as, in the Engineering Department,
Main Engines Division, Boilers Division and Auxiliaries Division. Each
division is a government itself responsible to the Executive Officer.
Smaller ships follow the same plan of organization, but have fewer
divisions, the chief difference being in the Gunnery Department owing
to fewer guns and, frequently, absence of torpedo tubes. The ship
is divided into sections from bow to stern, sometimes by bulkheads
and sometimes by imaginary lines, and each section includes all space
between keel and main deck, or the top of gun turrets above the main
deck. These sections correspond in number to the gun divisions of the
main battery and each is in charge of the senior officer of that gun
division, who is responsible for the cleanliness, orderliness and
upkeep of his section. A certain number of men of the proper ratings
are assigned to each of the divisions. As nearly as possible the men
of a division are kept together in the ship’s routine and as close to
their battle stations as may be practicable. Each division is divided
into four sections for duties, for keeping watch and for liberty, which
is navy parlance for shore leave.
Perfect discipline is the foundation upon which the organization is
built, and the recruit must learn discipline and subordination to
authority first of all. But he must learn those things without losing
his self-reliance, for he will be constantly called on to act on his
own responsibility. He is one of hundreds of other units. These units
are formed into small groups under a subleader. The small groups are
again formed into larger groups under other subleaders. The larger
groups in turn form the whole, and above the whole stands the captain.
Each man must know not only his own particular specialty, whether that
of seaman, gunnery expert, boiler maker, carpenter, mess attendant or
stoker, but must learn to so coöperate with his fellow workers that the
many separate units will be welded into one coördinating whole. The
ship must be navigated and controlled, the guns kept in condition and
fired, the engines and boilers operated, all parts of the ship kept in
repair, the officers and men fed, and a dozen other duties performed,
and all these activities must be so unified that they will come under
the control of one mind, that of the captain.
Drills form a large part of the instruction method and are provided to
prepare the officers and men for any emergency. They include battle
drills such as Strip Ship, General Quarters and Torpedo Defense
Quarters, emergency drills such as Fire, Collision, Abandon Ship and
Watertight Integrity, and gun drills. There are, besides these, the
ship manuals, guard mounting, general muster and inspection. There was
on the _Gyandotte_, however, no need for the Strip Ship drill, for
everything not necessary in war time had been removed at the navy yard
before sailing; wooden doors and lockers, unnecessary boats, spars,
booms, ladders, davits, stanchions, ventilators and inflammables. In
short, everything not absolutely needed for the moderate comfort of
the personnel and the conduct of war had been left behind. In battle,
articles of wood, whether fixtures or furnishings, have an unpleasant
way of splintering under shell fire and, besides, may become ignited.
Prior to an actual engagement the call of Clear Ship for Action
frequently consigns still other things to a watery grave.
Nelson stood first watch that night and turned into his hammock at
midnight. The _Gyandotte_ was riding on a more even keel now and the
sway of his swinging bed was only enough to help him pass quickly into
a sound slumber.