First Hostile Contact Between the Navy and the Germans--Armed Guards on
Merchant Vessels--"Campana" First to Sail--Daniels Refuses Offer of
Money Awards to Men Who Sink Submarines--"Mongolia" Shows Germany How
the Yankee Sailorman Bites--Fight of the "Silvershell"--Heroism of
Gunners on Merchant Ships--Sinking of the "Antilles"--Experiences of
Voyagers
In the way of direct hostile contact between the Navy Department and
Germany we find the first steps taken in the placing of armed
naval-guards on American merchantmen. While this was authorized by the
government before war was declared, it was recognized as a step that
would almost inevitably lead to our taking our part in the European
conflict and the nation, as a consequence, prepared its mind for such an
outcome of our new sea policy. Germany had announced her policy of
unrestricted submarine warfare in February, 1917, and on February 10 of
that month two American steamships, the _Orleans_ and the _Rochester_,
left port for France in defiance of the German warning. Both vessels
were unarmed and both arrived safely on the other side--the _Rochester_
was subsequently sunk--but their sailing without any means of defense
against attack aroused the nation and spurred Congress to action.
On March 12 the first armed American merchantman, the _Campana_, left
port with a gun mounted astern, and a crew of qualified naval marksmen
to man it. In the following October Secretary Daniels announced that his
department had found guns and crews for every one of our merchant
vessels designated for armament and that the guards consisted of from
sixteen to thirty-two men under command of commissioned or chief petty
officers of the navy. When the work of finding guns for vessels was
begun the navy had few pieces that were available. While there were many
fine gunners in the naval force, there were not a sufficient number of
them to enable the quick arming of merchantmen without handicapping the
war-ships.
So every battleship in the navy was converted into a school of fire to
train men for the duty, and the naval ordnance plants entered upon the
work of turning out guns qualified for service on merchant craft. There
were guns in stock, as a matter of fact, but the number was insufficient
for the purpose in hand because, before the submarine developed a new
sort of sea warfare, it was not the policy of the nations to arm
merchant vessels other than those used as naval auxiliaries. But, as
already said, so expeditiously were affairs carried on that some six
months after the decision to equip our freighters and passenger-liners
with means of protection we had the sailors and the guns necessary to
meet all demands.
The following telegraphic correspondence, between two St. Louis business
men and the Secretary of the Navy, gives a very fair idea of the spirit
in which the citizens of this country accepted the decision of the
government to arm our merchant marine:
"St. Louis, Mo., April 11, 1917.
"_Hon. Josephus Daniels, Secretary of the Navy, Washington, D.C._
"We will pay $500 to the captain and crew of the first American merchant
ship to destroy a hostile submarine after this date. Money will be paid
on award by your office."
"BENJAMIN GRATZ
"ANDERSON GRATZ."
To which Mr. Daniels replied as follows:
"I thank you for the spirit which prompted your offer. It is my distinct
feeling that money rewards for such bravery is not in keeping with the
spirit of our day."
And neither it was. The American naval men were intent upon duty and
their duty was merely to protect the dignity as well as the safety of
our sea-borne commerce. The mercenary element was absent and that Mr.
Daniels did well to emphasize this fact was the conviction of the navy
as well as of the entire country; while, at the same time, as the
secretary said, the spirit underlying the offer was appreciated.
In the meantime the German Government--which no doubt had not expected
such drastic action on the part of the United States--was profoundly
disturbed, and it was stated that crews of American merchantmen who
ventured to fire upon German submarines before a state of war existed
between the two countries must expect to meet the fate of the British
merchant captain, Charles Fryatt, who as will be recalled, was tried and
executed in Germany for attempting to ram the German submarine 7-33 with
his vessel, the Great Eastern Railway steamship, _Brussels_, in July of
1916. This warning set forth in the _Neueste Nachrichten_, of Munich, is
so ingenious that the reader interested in Teutonic psychology will no
doubt be interested in the perusal thereof.
"We assume," the newspaper said, "that President Wilson realizes the
fate to which he is subjecting his artillerymen. According to the German
prize laws it is unneutral support of the enemy if a neutral ship takes
part in hostilities. If such a ship opposes the prize-court then it must
be treated as an enemy ship. The prize rules specify as to the crews of
such ships. If, without being attached to the forces of the enemy, they
take part in hostilities or make forcible resistance, they may be
treated according to the usages of war. If President Wilson, knowing
these provisions of international law, proceeds to arm American
merchantmen he must assume responsibility for the eventuality that
American seamen will meet the fate of Captain Fryatt."
All of which did not appear to frighten our government one bit. We set
ourselves to the task of equipping our merchant craft with
seamen-gunners and guns, and it was not long--April 25, in fact--before
an incident occurred that brought forth a chuckle from Colonel
Roosevelt, a chuckle accompanied by the historic remark: "Thank heaven!
Americans have at last begun to hit. We have been altogether too long at
the receiving end of this war that Germany has been waging upon us."
This ebullition was occasioned by the report of the first real American
blow of the war when, late in April, 1917, the crack American freighter
_Mongolia_ showed the German Navy that the time had arrived when the
long, strong arm of Uncle Sam was reaching out a brawny fist over the
troubled waters of the Atlantic.
The _Mongolia_ had left an American port after war had been declared,
and she was guarded by a 6-inch gun, with a crew of seamen-gunners under
command of Lieutenant Bruce Ware. Captain Emery Rice commanded the
freighter, and the voyage across the Atlantic had proceeded without
incident until the port of destination, an English port, lay just
twenty-four hours away. In other words, the _Mongolia_ was in the war
zone. The sea was untroubled, and the gun crew gathered at their
stations and the lookouts on mast and deck were beginning to believe
that the trip would end as uneventfully as it had begun. No doubt there
was some disappointment in this thought; for, strange as it may seem,
our armed freighters were rather inclined to hunt out the submarines
than to dodge them. It has been the frequent testimony that our armed
guards are always spoiling for fight, not seeking to avoid It.
At all events, the freighter steamed through the light mists of the
April afternoon--it was the anniversary of the battle of Lexington--and
Captain Rice, who had been five days in his clothes, and Lieutenant Ware
of the navy and his nineteen men, serving the two 4-inch forward guns
and the 6-inch stern piece, casting their eyes over the vast stretch of
water when at 5.30 o'clock the gruff voice of the first mate, who had
been peering over the dodger rail of the bridge rumbled over the vessel.
"Submarine. Two points off the port bow."
There it was, sure enough, a periscope at least, practically dead ahead,
her position with relation to the _Mongolia_ being such that the vessel
offered a narrow target, a target hardly worth the wasting of a valuable
torpedo. No, the submarine was either waiting for a broadside expanse or
else was intent upon a gun-fight.
Lieutenant Ware and his seamen were ready. In compliance to a sharply
spoken order the three guns were turned upon the periscope. But quick as
the gunners were, the submarine was quicker, and as the guns were
brought to bear the periscope sank gently out of sight. Captain Rice
almost pulled the engine-room signal telegraph-lever out by its roots in
bringing the ship to full speed toward the spot where the periscope had
last been seen, his idea of course, being to ram the lurking craft.
For two minutes nothing was seen and then a shout from one of the
lookouts heralded the reappearance of the submersible, this time a
thousand yards to port, the _Mongolia_ offering to the Germans a fair
broadside expanse of hull. Lieutenant Ware's voice arose and the next
instant the 6-inch piece spoke. That periscope went into splinters; a
direct hit. Watchers on the freighter saw the shell strike its mark
fairly. A great geyser arose from the sea, and when it died there were
evidences of commotion beneath the surface. Then gradually foam and oil
spread upon the gentle waves.
There was no doubt about the hit. Lieutenant Ware knew before the shell
struck that the aim had been accurate. There was no guess-work about it.
It was a case of pure mathematics. The whole affair was over in two
minutes. The vessel did not stop to reconnoitre, but steamed away at
full speed, sending ahead wireless reports of the fight against the
undersea craft. The British naval officers who came bounding across the
waters on their destroyers were extremely complimentary in their praise,
and when the _Mongolia_ returned to New York there was a dinner in honor
of Lieutenant Ware, an expression of the lingering emotions which had
fired the nation when word of the incident was cabled to this country.
Since that fight the Germans, enraged, seem to have marked the
_Mongolia_; for in succeeding months she was set upon repeatedly by the
submarine flotilla, seeking revenge for her temerity in sending one of
their number to the bottom. But she is still afloat and ready for
anything that comes out of the sea.
None the less, the government began to feel that it would be wiser not
to mention the names of ships engaged with submarines, and thus when the
next good fight occurred the name of the vessel engaged was not given.
Aside from hoping thus to keep a vessel from being marked it had been
the experience of the British Government that when Germans had
identified captured sailors as having belonged to vessels that had sunk
or damaged submarines they subjected them to unusual severity. Our navy
wished to avoid this in the case of our men.
However, the name of the vessel which engaged in a fight on May 30, was
given out the day after the Washington report by the French Ministry of
Marine. It was the _Silvershell_, commanded by Captain Tom Charlton with
a gun crew commanded by William J. Clark, a warrant-officer from the
battleship _Arkansas_. The battle occurred on May 30, in the
Mediterranean and in addition to strength added by an efficient gun
crew, whose commander, Clark, had been a turret captain on the
_Arkansas_, the _Silvershell_ was an extremely fast ship. As a
consequence, when the submarine poked her nose out of the Mediterranean
blue, expecting easy prey, she found confronting her a man's-size
battle. In all sixty shots were exchanged, and the submarine not only
beaten off, but sunk with the twenty-first shot fired from the
_Silvershell_. It was a great fight, and Clark was recommended for
promotion.
While the government jealously guarded details of this and subsequent
fights, the country had adequate food for pride in such announcements
from the Navy Department as that of July 26, when certain gun-crew
officers were cited for promotion and an outline of reasons therefor set
forth.
There was Andrew Copassaki, chief boatswain's mate, for instance, who
was transferred from the battleship _Arkansas_ to take charge of the gun
crew of the steamship _Moreni_. He commanded this crew when the _Moreni_
was sunk by a German submarine on the morning of June 12. This gun crew
put up a fight on the deck of that sinking vessel which was so gallant
as to elicit words of praise from the commander of the attacking
submarine. Copassaki, when the ship was in flames, from shellfire,
rushed through the fire to the forward gun and continued to serve it
against the submarine until the gun was put completely out of
commission. This gallant hero was born in Greece, and had been in the
navy twenty years.
Then there was Harry Waterhouse, a chief turret captain, transferred
from the dreadnought _New York_ to command the armed crew of the
_Petrolite_ which was sunk by a U-boat on June 10. The vessel sank so
rapidly after being torpedoed that the guns could not be used. The navy
men, however, under the command of Waterhouse, assisted in getting out
the boats and lowering them and getting the crew to safety, to a
man--although the _Petrolite_ went over on her beam ends in less than a
minute. No member of the armed guard left the sinking vessel until
ordered to do so by Waterhouse. These are but a few of the instances of
signal gallantry which have filled the records of our navy since we
entered the war.
And while our merchant crews were thus at work the navy was busy sending
soldiers to the other side. Not a mishap had occurred on the eastbound
traffic--and at this writing none has yet occurred--but on October 17,
the transport _Antilles_, which had made several safe journeys with
soldiers destined for General Pershing's expeditionary forces, was
torpedoed and sunk when homeward bound with a loss of 70 lives out of
237 men on board. The transport was sunk while under the convoy of
American naval patrol-vessels, and she had on board the usual armed gun
crew.
Not only was the _Antilles_ the first American Army transport to be lost
in the present war, but she was the first vessel under American convoy
to be successfully attacked. She was well out to sea at the time and the
convoy of protecting vessels was smaller for this reason, and for the
fact that she was westbound, carrying no troops. The submarine was never
seen and neither was the torpedo. There has been rumor that the
explosion that sank her came from the inside, but so far as any one
knows this is merely port gossip of such nature as arises when vessels
are lost. Our second transport to be lost was the _President Lincoln_,
taken over from the Germans when war was declared. She, too, was
eastbound, well out to sea, and the loss of life was small. The third
was the _Covington_, formerly the German liner _Cincinnati_, which was
torpedoed in the early summer of this year while on her way to an
American port.
Life on merchantmen, freighters, liners, and the like, crossing the
Atlantic, has been fraught with peril and with excitement ever since we
went into the war. Even with armed guards there are of course all sorts
of chances of disaster, chances frequently realized; but, on the other
hand, in a great majority of cases the vessels of the transatlantic
passenger service have crossed to and fro, giving their passengers all
the thrills of an exciting situation without subjecting them to anything
more serious.
Let me quote in part a letter from a Princeton man, Pleasants
Pennington, who was a passenger on the French transatlantic liner
_Rochambeau_, on one of its trips late in 1917.
"What about the submarines? They haven't put in an appearance yet. We
haven't worried about them because we only got into the war zone last
night; but I may have more to write about before we get into Bordeaux on
Wednesday or Thursday. There are several people on board--especially
ladies of the idle rich--who have been much concerned about the safety
of the ship and incidentally their own skins.... The Frenchmen, the
officers of the ship and especially the captain (his name is Joam) take
a very philosophic view of the situation, and shrug their shoulders with
Gallic fatalism. If they shall be torpedoed--_tant pis!_ But why
worry?... I had a talk with our captain the second day out, and he
seemed to have made a pretty thorough study of tactics for avoiding
submarines. He said they did not go more than 800 miles from land, and
that the best protection is to go fast and keep one's eyes open. The
_Rochambeau_ had two beautiful new 6-inch guns mounted on the stern and
a 3-inch gun in the bow.... As near as I can gather, our tactics seem to
be to keep a lookout ahead and trust to getting a shot at any submarine
that shows its head before it can launch a torpedo. I believe torpedoes
are not accurate at over a mile, and the speed of a submarine is only
nine knots while ours is nineteen.... I think the most distinctive
feature of war-time travel is the fact that the boat must be perfectly
dark at night to an outside observer. This rule is observed on the
entire voyage, and results in heavy iron shutters being bolted on all
port-holes and windows as soon as dusk falls so that the entire
atmosphere of the cabins, smoking-room, reading-rooms, etc., becomes
very vile in a surprisingly short time after dark.... We now sleep on
deck and are very comfortable. The deck is crowded at night with people
of different ages, sexes, and nationalities, sleeping in the most
charming confusion and proximity."
Well, the _Rochambeau_ arrived without untoward incident as she had done
so often before and has done since. Another letter is that of a Yale
senior, enlisted in the navy and one of the crew of a transport. "We
looked very formidable as we steamed out of the harbor. An armored
cruiser led the way and on either side a torpedo destroyer.... We
proceed very cautiously. After sunset all lights go out. There is no
smoking anywhere on board and not a light even in the stateroom. Then if
we look out we see the other ships of the convoy--we hug one another
closely--just stumbling through the water like phantom shapes--and
that's the weirdest sight I have ever seen.... To-day we are having gun
practice on board the transport--trial shots for the subs and the
cruiser experimenting with balloon observers. Such are our interests....
Last night I had a wonderful experience. It was delightful--one of those
that tickle my masculine pride. I was detailed in charge of a watch in
the forward crow's-nest--a basket-like affair on the very top of the
foremast about 150 feet from the water.... From the nest you get a
wonderful view--a real bird's-eye view--for the men walking on the deck
appear as pigmies, and the boats following in our trail look like
dories. Our duty is to watch with powerful glasses for any traces of
periscopes, and we are connected up with telephones to the gunners who
are always ready for the 'call' and eager for action. This is only the
first of the thrilling experiences which I expect, or, rather, hope to
have." But that convoy arrived safely, too.
The convoy, by the way, was largely an American idea, a departure from
the policy of protecting a single vessel. A group of craft about to
cross, sometimes as many as a score or more, are sent forth together
under adequate protection of destroyers and cruisers. At night
towing-disks are dropped astern. These are white and enable the rearward
vessels to keep their distance with relation to those steaming ahead.
The destroyers circle in and about the convoyed craft, which, in the
meantime, are describing zigzag courses in order that submarines may not
be able to calculate their gun or torpedo fire with any degree of
accuracy.
The destroyers shoot in front of bows and around sterns with impunity,
leaving in their trail a phosphorescent wake. Sometimes in the case of a
fast liner the destroyers, what with the high speed of the craft they
are protecting and the uncertain course, narrowly escape disaster. As a
matter of fact, one of them, the American destroyer _Chauncey_, was lost
in this manner. But she is the only one.
Here is a letter from a Yale man, a sailor, which contains rather a
tragic story, the loss of the transport _Tuscania_ under British convoy:
"I could see a lighthouse here and there on the Irish and Scotch shores,
and though I knew there were plenty of ships about not one was to be
seen. (It was night, of course). All at once I saw a dull flare and a
moment after a heavy boom. Then about half a mile away the _Tuscania_
stood out in the glare of all the lights suddenly turned on. I could see
her painted funnels and the sides clear and distinct against the dark.
Another boom and the lights and the ship herself vanished. The next
instant lights and rockets began to go up, red and white, and from their
position I knew they must be from the _Tuscania_ and that she was
falling out of the convoy. Then came a crash of guns and a heavier shock
that told of depth-bombs and the blaze of a destroyer's
search-lights--gone again in an instant--and then absolute silence."
The sinking of the _Antilles_ was followed--October 25, 1917--by an
announcement that thereafter bluejackets would man and naval officers
command all transports. Up to that time, while there had been naval
guards on the transports, the crews and officers of ships had been
civilians. It was believed that highly disciplined naval men would be
more effective than the constantly shifting crews of civilians. So it
has proved.