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A GUNNER ABOARD THE "YANKEE"
From the Diary of Number Five of the After Port Gun (Russell Doubleday)
The Yarn of the Cruise and Fights of the Naval Reserves in the
Spanish-American War
Edited by H. H. LEWIS, Late a S.N.
With Introduction by W. T. SAMPSON, Rear Admiral U.S.
1896
BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA
Honorary President, THE HON. WOODROW WILSON
Honorary Vice-President, HON. WILLIAM H. TAFT
Honorary Vice-President, COLONEL THEODORE ROOSEVELT
President, COLIN B. LIVINGSTONE, Washington, D.C.
Vice-President, B.L. DULANEY, Bristol, Tenn.
Vice-President, MILTON A. McRAE, Detroit, Mich.
Vice-President, DAVID STARR JORDAN, Stanford University, Cal.
Vice-President, F.L. SEELY, Asheville, N.C.
Vice-President, A. STAMFORD WHITE, Chicago, Ill.
Chief Scout, ERNEST THOMPSON SETON, Greenwich, Connecticut
National Scout Commissioner, DANIEL CARTER BEARD, Fishing, N.Y.
NATIONAL HEADQUARTERS
THE FIFTH AVENUE BUILDING, 200 FIFTH AVENUE
TELEPHONE GRAMERCY 540
NEW YORK CITY
FINANCE COMMITTEE
John Sherman Hoyt, Chairman
George D. Pratt
Mortimer L. Schiff
H. Rogers Winthrop
GEORGE D. PRATT Treasurer
JAMES E. WEST Chief Scout Executive
ADDITIONAL MEMBERS OF THE EXECUTIVE BOARD
Ernest P. Bicknell
Robert Garrett
Lee F. Hanmer
Jobe Sherman Hoyt
Charles C. Jackson
Prof. Jeremiah W. Jeeks
William D. Murray
Dr. Charles P. Nell
Frank Presbrey
Edgar M. Robinson
Mortimer L. Schiff
Lorillard Spencer
Seth Spreguy Terry
July 31st, 1913.
TO THE PUBLIC:--
In the execution of its purpose to give educational value
and moral worth to the recreational activities of the
boyhood of America, the leaders of the Boy Scout Movement
quickly learned that to effectively carry out its program,
the boy must be influenced not only in his out-of-door life
but also in the diversions of his other leisure moments. It
is at such times that the boy is captured by the tales of
daring enterprises and adventurous good times. What now is
needful is not that his taste should be thwarted but
trained. There should constantly be presented to him the
books the boy likes best, yet always the books that will be
best for the boy. As a natter of fact, however, the boy's
taste is being constantly vitiated and exploited by the
great mass of cheap juvenile literature.
To help anxiously concerned parents and educators to meet
this grave peril, the Library Commission of the Boy Scouts
of America has been organized. EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY is the
result of their labors. All the books chosen have been
approved by them. The Commission is composed of the
following members: George F. Bowerman, Librarian, Public
Library of the District of Columbia, Washington, D.C.;
Harrison W. Graver, Librarian, Carnegie Library of
Pittsburgh, Pa.; Claude G. Leland, Superintendent, Bureau of
Libraries, Board of Education, New York City; Edward F.
Stevens, Librarian, Pratt Institute Free Library, Brooklyn,
New York; together with the Editorial Board of our Movement,
William D. Murray, George D. Pratt and Frank Presbrey, with
Franklin K. Mathiews. Chief Scout Librarian, as Secretary.
In selecting the books, the Commission has chosen only such
as are of interest to boys, the first twenty-five being
either works of fiction or stirring stories of adventurous
experiences. In later lists, books of a more serious sort
will be included. It is hoped that as many as twenty-five
may be added to the Library each year.
Thanks are due the several publishers who have helped to
inaugurate this new department of our work. Without their
co-operation in making available for popular priced editions
some of the best books ever published for boys, the
promotion of EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY would have been
impossible.
We wish, too, to express our heartiest gratitude to the
Library Commission, who, without compensation, have placed
their vast experience and immense resources at the service
of our Movement.
The Commission invites suggestions as to future books to be
included in the Library. Librarians, teachers, parents, and
all others interested in welfare work for boys, can render a
unique service by forwarding to National Headquarters lists
of such books as in their judgment would be suitable for
EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY.
Signed
Chief Scout Executive.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
Acknowledgements are due to J. Harper Skillen, Stewart Flagg, George
Yardley, W.G. Wood, and E. Howe Stockwell for the use of photographs;
and to C.B. Hayward and Allan H. Seaman for the use of notes and
diaries.
[Illustration: THE NAVAL RESERVES LEAVING NEW YORK--GOING OFF IN THE
TUGBOAT TO MAN THE "YANKEE".]
THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY
RUSSELL DOUBLEDAY
NUMBER FIVE OF THE AFTER PORT GUN OF THE YANKEE
TO THE NAVAL RESERVE ORGANIZATIONS
THROUGHOUT THE UNITED STATES, WHO HAVE MADE SUCH
AN ENVIABLE RECORD DURING THE SPANISH-AMERICAN
WAR AND BEFORE WHOM SUCH A
GLORIOUS FUTURE
OPENS AUTHOR'S FOREWORD
1898 April 1917
The successors of the crew of the "Yankee" are now "somewhere in the
service." The boys of the First Battalion New York Naval Militia were
just as eager to get to sea in the service of Uncle Sam to do their part
for the great cause, as we were in the Spring of '98.
The old frigate "Granite State" (formerly the New Hampshire), living
through three wars, has resounded to the tramp of hundreds of tars in
the making. She is the school ship, the home ship of the First
Battalion. Down her gangways went most of the "Yankee's" crew and
between her massive decks they returned after their job was done.
As I write it seems as if I can hear the shrill whistle of the bo'sn's
pipe sounding in all parts of the old wooden ship, then the long drawn
call "all hands on deck." The men come tumbling up from below, touching
their caps in salute as their heads rise above the hatch coaming. Men
standing in battalion formation, by divisions, at attention, each man
answers "here" as his name is called. Some of the voices are a little
husky as the speaker realizes that war is on and he is about to be
called for real service.
And so they are mustered in. The state's sailors become Uncle Sam's
man-o'-war's-men. The old "Granite State" is once more emptied of its
crew. The decks are silent and the long, low gangways beneath the
ancient deck beams are checked with squares of undisturbed yellow-light,
as the sun streams through the square gun ports.
The readers of this book can imagine the men on our great gray ships of
war going through much the same routine followed by the "Yankee's" crew,
for there has been but little change in the work and play of the
man-o'-war's-men.
So let us take off our caps and give the men of 1917 three cheers and a
tiger. May they shoot straight, and keep fit.
Pipe down.
RUSSELL DOUBLEDAY
April, 1917
Nineteen years ago this
month the "Yankee's"
crew went to sea.
INTRODUCTION.
As the Commander-in-Chief of the American Naval Squadron blockading
Santiago and the Cuban coast, the auxiliary cruiser "Yankee," manned by
the New York Naval Reserves, came immediately under my observation, and
it is a pleasure for me to speak of the spirit and efficiency shown by
the officers and crew during their stay under my command.
The young men forming the ship's company of the "Yankee" were called
into service several weeks prior to any other Naval Reserve battalion;
they came from all walks of civil life, and their minds, devoted to
peaceful pursuits, were suddenly diverted to the needs and requirements
and the usages of naval routine. Notwithstanding this radical change,
they have made the name of their ship a household word throughout the
country, and have proved that the average American, whether he be clerk
or physician, broker, lawyer, or merchant, can, on the spur of the
moment, prove a capable fighter for his country even amid such strange
and novel surroundings as obtain in the naval service. These young men
have especially upheld the American supremacy in the art of gunnery, and
have, on all occasions, proved brave and efficient.
The conclusion of the Spanish-American War released them from their
voluntarily assumed positions in the regular navy, but when they
returned to civil life they carried with them the consciousness of duty
well done at Santiago and Cienfuegos and whenever their guns were used
in hostile action. In a word, the Naval Reserves manning the "Yankee,"
in common with those on board other vessels in the service, have proved
their aptitude for sea duty, and made apparent the wisdom of the
Government in calling them into active service.
W.T. SAMPSON,
Rear-Admiral, U.S.N.
U.S. FLAGSHIP "NEW YORK,"
September 3, 1898.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
AUTHOR'S FOREWORD
INTRODUCTION
PREFACE
I. IN WHICH THE "YANKEE" GOES INTO COMMISSION
II. IN WHICH WE GET UNDER WAY AT LAST
III. IN WHICH THE "YANKEE" CRUISES FOR PRIZES
IV. WE GET ORDERS TO GO SOUTH
V. A WILD GOOSE CHASE
VI. WE BECOME COAL HEATERS
VII. WE ENTER THE "THEATRE OF WAR"
VIII. WE JOIN SAMPSON'S FLEET
IX. CLEAR SHIP FOR ACTION
X. WE BOMBARD SANTIAGO DE CUBA
XI. A PERILOUS MOMENT
XII. IN SEARCH OF ADVENTURE
XIII. A NARROW ESCAPE
XIV. WE ENGAGE IN A SEA FIGHT
XV. COALING IN THE TROPICS
XVI. "REMEMBER THE FISH"
XVII. IN GOD'S COUNTRY
XVIII. THE "YANKEE" ARRIVES OFF SANTIAGO
XIX. HOPE DEFERRED
XX. TAPS
APPENDIX
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE NAVAL RESERVES LEAVING NEW YORK--GOING OFF IN THE TUGBOAT TO
MAN THE "YANKEE"
Frontispiece
"THAT FAT MAN IN THE CELLAR WANTS ME TO SLEEP IN A BAG--"
"THE GIG WAS LOWERED"
"THE MEN ON THE STAGES"
"STAND BY, MEN. BE READY FOB INSTANT ACTION"
"THE 'YANKEE' DROPPED HER ANCHOR OFF TOMPKINSVILLE"
"WITH A FRIGHTFUL ROAR THE DEFECTIVE CARTRIDGE EXPLODED"
"THE SIX-POUNDERS ON THE 'YANKEE'S' FORECASTLE JOINED IN THE CHORUS"
"CLEAR SHIP FOR ACTION!"
THE BOMBARDMENT OF MORRO CASTLE, SANTIAGO
ON THE GUN DECK DURING THE BOMBARDMENT
THE SEARCHLIGHT "SWEEPING BACK AND FORTH ACROSS THE BLACK OF THE HORIZON"
"THERE WAS TEMPORARY CONFUSION"
"THE FUSILLADE WAS LIVELY"
"THE SPAR DECK WAS COVERED WITH RED SHELLAC"
"THE MARINES AIRED THEIR HAMMOCKS ON THE FORECASTLE DECK"
"HE GOT HIS ORDERS FROM THE BRIDGE"
"ALL YOU MEN WHO WANT TO GO IN SWIMMING MAY DO SO"
MARCHING THROUGH CITY HALL PARK, NEW YORK CITY
PREFACE.
When the important events of the first part of April, 1898, were shaping
themselves toward an inevitable conflict between Spain and the United
States of America, the authorities at Washington began to perfect their
plans for an immediate increase of the navy. The Naval Militia of the
country, of whom Assistant Secretary Theodore Roosevelt had a very high
opinion, came in for early attention, and word was sent to the different
States to prepare for service. Several days previous to the actual
outbreak of war, messages were forwarded from the Naval Reserve
receiving ship "New Hampshire," lying at a dock in the East River, to a
number of young men, members of the Naval Militia, residing in New York
City. These summons contained simply a request to report at once on
board the ship, but they resulted in a most curious and interesting
transformation--in fact, they formed the foundation of a chain of events
which was destined to amalgamate into a common grade--that of a naval
bluejacket--several hundred young Americans, who, in their natural
characters, were sons of rich men and of men of moderate means, of
doctors and lawyers and brokers and clerks and bookkeepers, and of all
sorts and conditions of respectable citizens. Patriotism was the
incentive which called these youths of various stations together, and
sheer love of country and the courage to fight her battles formed the
cement which bound them cheerfully to their duty. To fight for pay and
as a profession is one thing; to offer your freedom and your life, to
endure discomforts and actual hardships, to risk health in a
fever-stricken foreign country, and to sacrifice settled ambition for
mere patriotism, is another. It is the latter which the Volunteer Naval
Reserve of the United States has done, and every American citizen with a
drop of honest blood in his veins will surely give the organization the
praise it so richly deserves.
On the third of May, while Cervera's whereabouts was still an absorbing
mystery, the "Yankee" (an auxiliary cruiser, converted from the
steamship "El Nort") went into commission at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. She
was manned entirely, save for the captain, executive officer, navigator,
paymaster, and the marine guard, by members of the New York State Naval
Militia. For four months she remained in commission, weaving the threads
of a glorious record which will ever redound to the credit and honor of
the Volunteer Naval Reserve. Truth is ever stranger than fiction, and
the simple story of the boys of the gallant "Yankee," as set forth in
the diary of Number Five of the After Port Gun, should appeal to the
heart of every reader in this great country of ours--a country made
grander and better and more potent in the world's history by the
achievements of such brave lads as those who formed the crew of the
"Yankee." Number Five's diary was written simply for his family, but the
fame gained by the "Yankee" leads the publishers to believe that it will
prove interesting to Americans far and wide. It is set forth in
narrative form, but the incidents and the straightforward, simple, and
sailor-like words are those of the actual participant. This is his
story.
CHAPTER I.
IN WHICH THE "YANKEE" GOES INTO COMMISSION.
U.S.S. "NEW HAMPSHIRE,"
April 26, 1898.
Report at "New Hampshire" immediately, ready to go on board auxiliary
cruiser "Yankee."
(Signed)
JOHN H. BARNARD,
Lieut, commanding 3d Division,
N.Y. State Naval Militia.
It was this telegram, brief but extremely comprehensive, received early
on the morning of the twenty-sixth of April, which sent me post-haste to
the old receiving-ship "New Hampshire," moored at the end of an East
River dock. The telegram had been anxiously expected for several days by
the members of the First Battalion, and when I reached the ship I found
the decks thronged with excited groups.
"War was a certainty, and the very air was filled with rumors. The
prevailing topic was discussed from every point of view, and within
sixty seconds as many destinations had been picked out for the
'Yankee.' It was variously reported that she was to go to Havana, to
Manila, to Porto Rico, and even to Spain. This last rumor brought shouts
of laughter, and 'Stump,' as we termed him, a well-known young insurance
broker of New York, remarked, in his characteristic way:
"It probably won't be this particular 'Yankee,' boys, that will go
there, but there'll be others."
There was much cleaning of kits and furbishing of cutlasses. We knew
that we would not take the latter with us, but then it was practice, and
we felt anxious to do something martial as a relief to our excitement.
There was a diversion shortly before noon, when the "old man" (the
captain) appeared with a number of official-looking papers in his hands.
"He's got the orders," whispered little Potter, our latest recruit.
"Whoop! we'll get away this morning, sure."
The whistle of the bosun's mate on watch echoed shrilly about the decks
a few moments later.
"Now, d'ye hear there," he shouted, hoarsely, "you will break out mess
gear and get yourselves ready for messing aboard ship."
That did not sound as if we were destined to see our new vessel put into
commission very soon, and there was some grumbling, but the boys fell to
work with good grace, and we were soon preparing for our stay aboard the
old frigate. The officer of the deck was lenient, however, and the
majority of the crew secured permission to sleep at home that night.
The following Monday, on reporting on board the "New Hampshire," we
learned that the entire detail selected to man the "Yankee" would
proceed to that ship shortly after eight bells. Word was passed that our
enlistment papers--for we were to regularly enter Uncle Sam's naval
service--would be made out, and that our freedom and liberty, as some of
the boys put it, would cease from that hour. The latter statement made
little impression. We had entered the Naval Reserves for business, if
business was required, and we expected hardships as well as fun.
A navy-yard tug, sent by the Commandant, steamed alongside at two
o'clock, and the company was marched on board without delay. The boys
were eager to enter on this, their first real detail, and, in the rush
to gain the deck of the tug, young Potter slipped from the rail and fell
with a mighty splash into the water. "Man overboard!" bawled his
nearest mate, and "Man overboard!" echoed one hundred and fifty voices.
There was a scramble for the side, and the tug's deck hand, assisted by
several of our fellows, fished Potter from the river with a boat hook.
"Hereafter, please ask permission before you leave the ship,"
facetiously remarked the officer in charge.
"Humph! as if I meant to do it," grunted Potter, wringing the East River
from his duck shirt.
We caught our first view of the "Yankee" as we steamed past the cob dock
at the yard. We were favorably impressed at once. She is a fine-looking
ship, large, roomy, and comfortable, with lines which show that she is
built for speed. As her record is twenty knots an hour, the latter
promise is carried out. The "Yankee" was formerly the "El Norte," one of
the Morgan Line's crack ships, and, when it was found necessary to
increase the navy, she was purchased, together with other vessels of the
same company, and ordered converted into an auxiliary cruiser. Gun
mounts were placed in the cargo ports, beams strengthened, magazines
inserted, and interior arrangements made to accommodate a large crew.
The "Yankee's" tonnage is 4,695 tons; length, 408 feet; beam, 48 feet.
The battery carried consists of ten five-inch quick-firing
breechloaders, six six-pounders, and two Colt automatic guns. After
events proved conclusively the efficiency of the "Yankee's" armament.
The detail was taken alongside the "Yankee" by the tug. We had our first
meeting with our new captain, Commander W.H. Brownson, of the regular
navy. His appearance and his kindly greeting bore out the reputation he
holds in the service as a gentleman and a capable officer. It is well to
say right here that Commander Brownson, although a strict
disciplinarian, was ever fair and just in his treatment of the crew. Our
pedigrees were taken for the enlistment papers, and the questions asked
us in regard to our ages, occupations, etc., proved that the Government
requires the family history of its fighters. The following day each man
was subjected to a rigid physical examination. The latter ceremony is so
thorough that a man needs to be perfect to have the honor of wearing the
blue shirt. Personally, when I finally emerged from the examining room,
I felt that my teeth were all wrong, my eyes crossed, my heart a wreck,
and that I was not only a physical ruin, but a gibbering idiot as well.
That I really passed the examination successfully was no fault of the
naval surgeon and his assistants.
After the medical department had finished with us, the enlistment papers
were completed, and we became full-fledged "Jackies," as "Stump" termed
it. The members of the battalion were rated as landsmen, ordinary
seamen, and able-bodied seamen, according to their skill, and a number
of men, hastily enlisted for the purpose, were made machinists, firemen,
coal-passers, painters, and carpenters. Some of these had seen service
in the regular navy, and they were visibly horny-handed sons of toil.
One Irishman, whose brogue was painful, looked with something very like
contempt on the Naval Reserve sailors.
"Uncle Sam is a queer bird," several of us overheard him remark to a
mate. "He do be making a picnic av this war wid his pleasure boats an'
his crew av pretty b'yes. If we iver tackle the Spaniards, there'll be
many a mama's baby on board this hooker cryin' for home, swate home."
"Hod," a six-footer, who played quarter-back on a famous team not long
ago, took out his notebook and made an entry.
"I'll spot that fellow and make him eat his words before we get into
deep water," he said, quietly. He was not the only one to make that
vow, and it was plain that Burke, the Irishman, had trouble in store for
him.
On our return to the "New Hampshire," the battalion was placed under the
regular ship's routine. All the men were divided into two watches,
starboard and port. The port watch, for instance, goes on duty at eight
bells in the morning, stands four hours, and is then relieved by the
starboard watch; this routine continues day and night, except from four
until eight in the afternoon, when occur the dog watches, two of them,
two hours long each, stood by the port and starboard men respectively.
The dog watches are necessary to secure a change in the hours of duty
for each watch.
From now on we were given a taste of the actual work of the service.
Details were made up each morning and sent to the "Yankee" to assist in
getting her in readiness for service. One of the first duties was to
carry on board and stow away in the hold one hundred kegs of mess pork.
As each keg contained one hundred pounds, the task was not easy for men
unaccustomed to manual labor. Still there was no complaint. In fact, the
only growling heard so far had come from some of the men who had seen
service in the regular navy. Burke, the fireman, declaimed loudly
against the "shoe leather an' de terrer-cotter hard-tack which they do
be tryin' to feed to honest workers. As for the slops they call coffee,
Oi wouldn't give it to an Orangeman's pig!"
The food served out on board the "New Hampshire"--being the usual
Government ration of salt-horse, coffee, and hard-tack--was vastly
different from that to which the majority of the boys were accustomed,
but it was accepted with the good grace displayed by the members of the
Reserve on every occasion. All these little discomforts are, as the
Navigator (a commissioned officer of the regular navy) remarked, "merely
incidental to the service."
As the time approached when we were to board the "Yankee" for good, the
ordinary watches were abandoned, and only anchor watches kept. An anchor
watch is a detail of five or six men, selected from the different parts
of the ship, who do duty, really, as watchmen, during the night. Two
days before the order arrived to leave the "New Hampshire," it was found
necessary to station several men, armed with guns and fixed bayonets, on
the dock near the ship, to stop men from taking the "hawser route"
ashore. The firemen and coal-passers had been refused shore leave, or
liberty, as it is called, because of their habit of getting
intoxicated, pawning their uniforms, and loitering ashore. Truth to
tell, the guns and bayonets had little effect, as the offenders were old
in the business.
The second night after the order was put in force it happened that
"Hod," who was rated as an able seaman, was on duty with gun and bayonet
on that end of the dock opposite the forecastle. He had just relieved
the man whose watch ended at midnight, and he stood thoughtfully
watching the twinkling lights on the opposite side of the mighty East
River. There was so much to occupy his mind in a situation which was
both charming and fascinating that he remained motionless for several
minutes. Presently there came a slight, scraping sound, and the end of a
rope struck the dock almost at his feet.
Glancing up, "Hod" saw a man's figure, dimly outlined in the gloom, slip
from the topgallant forecastle and quickly descend the rope. It was
evidently one of the men taking "French" leave, and it was the sentry's
duty to give the alarm at once. But "Hod" had other views in this
particular case. Hastily stepping back into the shadows, he laid his gun
upon the floor of the dock, and rolled up his sleeves with an air that
meant business. The next moment the absconder dropped from the rope.
As he prepared to slip past the ship a sinewy hand was placed upon his
shoulder, and another equally sinewy caught him by the collar.
"Burke, suppose you return aboard ship," said "Hod," quietly. "You are
not going to hit the Bowery this time."
The Irish fireman attempted to wrench himself free, then he struck out
at "Hod" with all the force of his right arm. The quarter-back's
practice on the field came into play, and the college graduate tackled
his opponent in the latest approved style. The struggle was short and
decisive, and it resulted in Burke declaring his willingness to return
to the ship.
"The next time you try to size up a new shipmate be sure you are on to
his curves," remarked "Hod," as he escorted his prisoner over the
gangway. "You will find some of 'mama's pretty boys' rather tough nuts
to crack."
The day following this little episode found the members of the State
Naval Militia detailed to form the crew of the "Yankee" in full
possession of the cruiser which they were to sail to glory or defeat in
defense of their country. The ship's company, two hundred and
twenty-five in all, boarded the auxiliary warship without ceremony, and
were speedily set to work hoisting in provisions, removing to the yard
all unnecessary stuff with which the ship was littered, and getting her
generally in condition for sailing. The work was extremely hard, but it
was done without demur.
A naval officer attached to the yard stood near me at one time during
the afternoon, and I heard him remark to a visitor who had accompanied
him on board: "You will find an object lesson in this scene. These young
men working here at the hardest kind of manual labor, buckling down
cheerfully to dirty jobs, were, a few days ago, living in luxury in the
best homes in New York City. The older men were clerks, or lawyers, or
physicians, and not one of them had ever stained his hands with toil.
Look at them now."
Unconsciously I glanced across the deck to where three men were hauling
upon a whip, or block-and-tackle, which was being used to hoist huge
boxes and casks of provisions on board. The three men were working
sturdily, and it would have been difficult to recognize in them, with
their grimy faces and soiled duck uniforms, a doctor, a bank cashier,
and a man-about-town well known in New York City. Near the forward
hatch, industriously swabbing the deck, was a black-haired youth whose
father helps to control some of the largest moves on 'Change. Scattered
about the gangway were others, some painting, some rolling barrels, and
a number engaged in whipping in heavy boxes of ammunition. They were all
cheerful, and the decks resounded with merry chatter and whistling and
song.
I turned to myself. My hands were brown and smeared and bruised. My
uniform, once white, was streaked and stained with tar. I wore shoes
innocent of blacking and made after a pattern much admired among
navvies. I had an individual ache in every bone of my body, and I was
hungry and was compelled to look forward to a dinner of odorous
salt-horse, hard bread, and "ennuied" coffee, but I was happy--I had to
admit that. Perhaps it was the novelty of the situation, perhaps it was
something else, but the fact remained that I would not have left the
ship or given up the idea of going on the cruise for a good deal.
We worked hard all day, and, when mess gear was piped for supper, we
could hardly repress a sigh of heartfelt relief. The food, bad as it
was, was welcome, and when I reluctantly swung away from the mess table
I felt much better. At six bells, shortly before hammocks were piped
down, the "striker," or helper, for our mess cook, said mysteriously:
"Don't turn in early, Russ, there's going to be a little fun. 'Bill' and
'Stump' have young Potter on a string. It will be great."