CHAPTER XI

FIGHTING SUBMARINES FROM THE AIR

The Allied navies were harrowing the submarines not only under the water

and on the surface, but from the air. In the anti-submarine campaign the

several forms of aircraft--airplane, seaplane, dirigible, and kite

balloon--developed great offensive power. Nor did the fact that our

fighters in the heavens made few direct attacks which were successful

diminish the importance of their work. The records of the British

Admiralty attribute the destruction of five submarines to the British

air service; the French Admiralty gives the American forces credit for

destroying one on the French coast. These achievements, compared with

the tremendous efforts involved in equipping air stations, may at first

look like an inconsiderable return; yet the fact remains that aircraft

were an important element in defeating the German campaign against

merchant shipping.

Like the subchaser and the submarine, the seaplane operated most

successfully in coastal waters. I have already indicated that one

advantage of the convoy system was that it forced the U-boats to seek

their victims closer to the shore. In our several forms of aircraft we

had still another method of interfering with their operation in such

quarters. In order to use these agencies effectively we constructed

aircraft stations in large numbers along the coast of France and the

British Isles, assigned a certain stretch of coastline to each one of

these stations, and kept the indicated area constantly patrolled. The

advantages which were possessed by a fleet of aircraft operating at a

considerable height above the water are at once apparent. The great

speed of seaplanes in itself transformed them into formidable foes. The

submarine on the surface could make a maximum of only 16 knots an hour,

whereas an airplane made anywhere from 60 to 100; it therefore had

little difficulty, once it had sighted the under-water boat, in catching

up with it and starting hostilities. Its great speed also made it

possible for an airplane or dirigible to patrol a much greater area of

water than a surface or a subsurface vessel. An observer located several

hundred feet in the heavens could see the submarine much more easily

than could his comrades on other craft. If the water were clear he could

at once detect it, even though it were submerged; in any event, merely

lifting a man in the air greatly extended his horizon, and made it

possible for him to pick up hostile vessels at a much greater distance.

Moreover, the airplane had that same advantage upon which I have laid

such emphasis in describing the anti-submarine powers of the submarine

itself: that is, it was almost invisible to its under-water foe. If the

U-boat were lying on the surface, a seaplane or a dirigible was readily

seen; but if it were submerged entirely, or even sailing at periscope

depth, the most conspicuous enemy in the heavens was invisible. After

our submarines and our aircraft had settled down to their business of

extermination, existence for those Germans who were operating in coastal

waters became extremely hazardous and nerve-racking; their chief anxiety

was no longer the depth bomb of a destroyer; they lived every moment in

the face of hidden terrors; they never knew when a torpedo would explode

into their vitals, or when an unseen bomb, dropped from the heavens,

would fall upon their fragile decks.

I have said that the destructive achievements of aircraft figure only

moderately in the statistics of the war; this was because the greater

part of their most valuable work was done in co-operation with war

vessels. Aircraft in the Navy performed a service not unlike that which

it performed in the Army. We are all familiar with the picture of

airplanes sailing over the field of battle, obtaining information which

was wirelessed back to their own forces, "spotting" artillery positions,

and giving ranges. The seaplanes and dirigibles of the Allied navies

performed a similar service on the ocean. To a considerable extent they

became the "eyes" of the destroyers and other surface craft, just as the

airplanes on the land became the "eyes" of the army. As part of their

equipment all the dirigibles had wireless telegraph and wireless

telephone; as soon as a submarine was "spotted," the news was

immediately flashed broadcast, and every offensive warship which was

anywhere in the neighbourhood, as well as the airplane itself, started

for the indicated scene. There are several cases in which the sinking of

submarines by destroyers was attributed to information wirelessed in

this fashion by American aircraft; and since the air service of the

British navy was many times greater than our own, there are many more

such "indirect sinkings" credited to the British effort.

The following citation, which I submitted to the Navy Department in

recommending Lieutenant John J. Schieffelin for the Distinguished

Service Medal, illustrates this co-operation between air and surface

craft:

This officer performed many hazardous reconnaissance flights, and

on July 9th, 1918, he attacked an enemy submarine with bombs and

then directed the British destroyers to the spot, which were

successful in seriously damaging the submarine. Again, on July

19th, 1918, Lieutenant Schieffelin dropped bombs on another enemy

submarine, and then signalled trawlers to the spot, which delivered

a determined attack against the submarine, which attack was

considered highly successful and the submarine seriously damaged,

if not destroyed. This officer was at all times an example of

courageous loyalty.

Besides scouting and "spotting" and bombing, the aerial hunters of the

submarine developed great value in escorting convoys. A few dirigibles,

located on the flanks of a convoy, protected them almost as effectively

as the destroyers themselves; and even a single airship not infrequently

brought a group of merchantmen and troopships safely into port.

Sometimes the airships operated in this way as auxiliaries to

destroyers, while sometimes they operated alone. In applying this

mechanism of protection to merchant convoys, we were simply adopting the

method which Great Britain had been using for three years in the narrow

passages of the English Channel. Much has been said of the skill with

which the British navy transported about 20,000,000 souls back and forth

between England and France in four years; and in this great movement

seaplanes, dirigibles, and other forms of aircraft played an important

part. In the same way this scheme of protection was found valuable with

the coastal convoys, particularly with the convoys which sailed from one

French port to another, and from British ports to places in Ireland,

Holland, or Scandinavia. I have described the dangers in which these

ships were involved owing to the fact that the groups were obliged to

break up after entering the Channel and the Irish Sea, and thus to

proceed singly to their destinations. Aircraft improved this situation

to a considerable extent, for they could often go to sea, pick up the

ships, and bring them safely home. The circumstance that our seaplanes,

perched high in the air, could see the submarine long before they had

reached torpedoing distance, and could, if necessary, signal to a

destroyer for assistance, made them exceedingly valuable for this kind

of work.

Early in 1918, at the request of the British Government, we took over a

large seaplane base which had been established by the British at

Killingholme, England, a little sea-coast town at the mouth of the

Humber River. According to the original plan we intended to co-operate

from this point with the British in a joint expedition against enemy

naval bases, employing for this purpose especially constructed towing

lighters, upon which seaplanes were to be towed by destroyers to within

a short flying distance of their objectives. Although this project was

never carried out, Killingholme, because of its geographical location,

became a very important base for seaplanes used in escorting mercantile

convoys to and from Scandinavian ports, patrolling mine-fields while on

the lookout for enemy submarines and making those all-important

reconnaissance flights over the North Sea which were intended to give

advanced warning of any activity of the German High Seas Fleet. These

flights lasted usually from six to eight hours; the record was made by

Ensigns S. C. Kennedy and C. H. Weatherhead, U.S.N., who flew for nine

hours continuously on convoy escort duty. For a routine patrol, this

compares very favourably indeed with the flight of the now famous

trans-Atlantic _NC-4_.

I can no better describe the splendid work of these enthusiastic and

courageous young Americans than by quoting a few extracts from a report

which was submitted to me by Ensign K. B. Keyes, of a reconnaissance

flight in which he took part, while attached temporarily to a British

seaplane station under post-graduate instruction. The picture given by

Ensign Keyes is typical of the flights which our boys were constantly

making:

On June 4, 1918, we received orders to carry out a reconnaissance

and hostile aircraft patrol over the North Sea and along the coast

of Holland. It was a perfect day for such work, for the visibility

was extremely good, with a light wind of fifteen knots and clouds

at the high altitude of about eight or ten thousand feet.

Our three machines from Felixstowe rose from the water at twelve

o'clock, circled into patrol formation, and proceeded north-east by

north along the coast to Yarmouth. Here we were joined by two more

planes, but not without some trouble and slight delay because of a

broken petrol pipe which was subsequently repaired in the air. We

again circled into formation, Capt. Leckie, D.S.O., of Yarmouth,

taking his position as leader of the squadron.

At one o'clock the squadron proceeded east, our machine, being in

the first division, flew at 1,500 feet and at about half a mile in

the rear of Capt. Leckie's machine, but keeping him on our

starboard quarter.

We sighted nothing at all until about half-past two, when the Haaks

Light Vessel slowly rose on the horizon, but near this mark and

considerably more to the south we discovered a large fleet of Dutch

fishing smacks. This fleet consisted of more than a hundred smacks.

Ten minutes later we sighted the Dutch coast, where we changed our

course more to the north-east. We followed the sandy beaches of the

islands of Texel and Vlieland until we came to Terschelling. In

following the coast of Vlieland we were close enough to distinguish

houses on the inside of the island and even to make out breakers

rolling up on the sandy beach.

At Terschelling we proceeded west in accordance with our orders,

but soon had to turn back because of Capt. Leckie's machine which

had fallen out of formation and come to the water. This machine

landed at three fifteen and we continued to circle around it,

finding that the trouble was with a badly broken petrol pipe, until

about fifteen minutes later, when we sighted five German planes

steering west, a direction which would soon bring them upon us.

At this time Capt. Barker had the wheel, Lt. Galvayne was seated

beside him, but if we met the opposing forces he was to kneel on

the seat with his eyes above the cowl, where he could see all the

enemy planes and direct the pilot in which direction to proceed. I

was in the front cockpit with one gun and four hundred rounds of

ammunition. In the stern cockpit the engineer and wireless ratings

were to handle three guns.

We at once took battle formation and went forward to meet the

enemy, but here we were considerably surprised to find that when we

were nearly within range they had turned and were running away from

us. At once we gave chase, but soon found that they were much too

fast for us. Our machine had broken out of the formation and, with

nose down, had crept slightly ahead of Capt. Leckie, and we being

the nearest machine to the enemy, I had the satisfaction of trying

out my gun for a number of rounds. It was quite impossible to tell

whether I had registered any hits or not.

Our purpose in chasing these planes was to keep them away from the

machine on the water which, if we had not been there, would have

been shot to pieces. Finding that it was useless to follow them, as

they could easily keep out of our range, we turned back and very

shortly we were again circling around our machine on the water.

It was not long before the enemy again came very close, so we gave

chase the second time. This time, instead of five machines as

before, there were only four, and one small scout could be seen

flying in the direction of Borkum.

It was the fourth time that we went off in pursuit of the enemy

that we suddenly discovered that a large number of hostile planes

were proceeding towards us, not in the air with the other four

planes but very close to the water. There were ten planes in this

first group, but they were joined a few minutes later by five more.

We swung into battle formation and steered for the middle of the

group. When we were nearly within range four planes on the port

side and five planes on the starboard side rose to our level of

fifteen hundred feet. Two planes passed directly beneath us firing

upward. Firing was incessant from the beginning and the air seemed

blue with tracer smoke. I gave most of my time to the four planes

on our port side, because they were exactly on the same level with

us and seemed to be within good range, that is about two hundred

yards. When we had passed each other I looked around and noticed

that Lt. Galvayne was in a stooping position, with head and one arm

on his seat, the other arm hanging down as if reaching for

something. I had seen him in this position earlier in the day so

thought nothing of it. All this I had seen in the fraction of a

second, for I had to continue firing. A few minutes later I turned

around again and found with a shock that Lt. Galvayne was in the

same position. It was then that the first inkling of the truth

dawned upon me. By bending lower I discovered that his head was

lying in a pool of blood.

From this time on I have no clear idea of just what our

manoeuvring was, but evidently we put up a running fight steering

east, then circled until suddenly I found our machine had been cut

off from the formation and we were surrounded by seven enemy

seaplanes.

This time we were steering west or more to the south-west. We

carried on a running fight for ten miles or so until we drove the

seven planes off. During the last few minutes of the fight our

engine had been popping altogether too frequently and soon the

engineer came forward to tell us that the port engine petrol pipe

had broken.

By this time I had laid out Lt. Galvayne in the wireless cockpit,

cleaned up the second pilot's seat, and taken it myself.

The engagement had lasted about half an hour, and the closest range

was one hundred yards while the average range was two hundred. The

boat with Ensign Eaton in it landed between the Islands of Texel

and Vlieland, while the other boat, which had not taken any part in

the fight, was last seen two miles off Vlieland and still taxiing

in toward the beach.

We descended to the water at five forty-five, ten miles north-west

of Vlieland. During the ten minutes we were on the water I loosened

Lt. Galvayne's clothing, made his position somewhat easier, and

felt for his heart which at that time I was quite sure was beating

feebly.

When we rose from the water and ascended to fifteen hundred feet,

we sighted two planes which later proved to be the two Yarmouth

boats. We picked them up, swung into formation, and laid our course

for Yarmouth.

At ten minutes to seven we sighted land and twenty minutes after we

were resting on the water in front of Yarmouth slipway.

We at once summoned medical aid but found that nothing could be

done. The shot had gone through his head, striking the mouth and

coming out behind his ear, tearing a gash of about two inches in

diameter.

The boat had been more or less riddled, a number of shots tearing

up the top between the front cockpit and the beginning of the cowl.

The total duration of the flight was seven hours and ten minutes.

American naval aviation had a romantic beginning; indeed, the

development of our air service from almost nothing to a force which, in

European waters, comprised 2,500 officers and 22,000 men, is one of the

great accomplishments of the war. It was very largely the outcome of

civilian enterprise and civilian public spirit. In describing our

subchasers I have already paid tribute to the splendid qualities of

reserve officers; and our indebtedness to this type of citizen was

equally great in the aviation service. I can pay no further tribute to

American youth than to say that the great aircraft force which was

ultimately assembled in Europe had its beginnings in a small group of

undergraduates at Yale University. In recommending Mr. Trubee Davison

for a Distinguished Service Medal, the commander of our aviation forces

wrote: "This officer was responsible for the organization of the first

Yale aviation unit of twenty-nine aviators who were later enrolled in

the Naval Reserve Flying Corps.... This group of aviators formed the

nucleus of the first Naval Reserve Flying Corps, and, in fact, may be

considered as the nucleus from which the United States Aviation Forces,

Foreign Service, later grew." This group of college boys acted entirely

on their own initiative. While the United States was still at peace,

encouraged only by their own parents and a few friends, they took up the

study of aviation. It was their conviction that the United States would

certainly get into the war, and they selected this branch as the one in

which they could render greatest service to their country. These young

men worked all through the summer of 1916 at Port Washington, Long

Island, learning how to fly: at this time they were an entirely

unofficial body, paying their own expenses. Ultimately the unit

comprised about twenty men; they kept constantly at work, even after

college opened in the fall of 1916, and when war broke out they were

prepared--for they had actually learned to fly. When the submarine

scares disturbed the Atlantic seaboard in the early months of the war

these Yale undergraduates were sent by the department scouting over Long

Island Sound and other places looking for the imaginary Germans. In

February, 1917, Secretary Daniels recognized their work by making

Davison a member of the Committee on Aeronautics; in March practically

every member of the unit was enrolled in the aviation service; and their

names appear among the first one hundred aviators enrolled in the

Navy--a list that ultimately included several thousand. So proficient

had these undergraduates become that they were used as a nucleus to

train our aircraft forces; they were impressed as instructors at

Buffalo, Bayshore, Hampton Roads, the Massachusetts Institute of

Technology, Key West and Moorhead City. They began to go abroad in the

summer of 1917, and they were employed as instructors in schools in

France and England. These young men not only rendered great material

service, but they manifested an enthusiasm, an earnestness, and a

tireless vigilance which exerted a wonderful influence in strengthening

the _moral_ of the whole aviation department. "I knew that whenever we

had a member of the Yale unit," says Lieutenant-Commander Edwards, who

was aide for aviation at the London headquarters in the latter part of

the war, "everything was all right. Whenever the French and English

asked us to send a couple of our crack men to reinforce a squadron, I

would say, 'Let's get some of the Yale gang.' We never made a mistake

when we did this."

There were many men in the regular navy to whom the nation is likewise

indebted. Captain T. T. Craven served with very marked distinction as

aide for aviation on the staff of Admiral Wilson, and afterward, after

the armistice was signed, as the senior member of the Board which had

been appointed to settle all claims with the French Government.

Lieutenant (now Commander) Kenneth Whiting was another officer who

rendered great service in aviation. Commander Whiting arrived in St.

Nazaire, France, on the 5th of June, 1917, in command of the first

aeronautic detachment, which consisted of 7 officers and 122 men.

Such were the modest beginnings of American aviation in France. In a

short time Commander Whiting was assigned to the command of the large

station which was taken over at Killingholme, England, and in October,

1917, Captain Hutch I. Cone came from the United States to take charge

of the great aviation programme which had now been planned. Captain Cone

had for many years enjoyed the reputation of being one of the Navy's

most efficient administrators; while still a lieutenant-commander, he

had held for a considerable time the rank of rear-admiral, as chief of

the Bureau of Steam Engineering; and in 1917 he was commanding naval

officer of the Panama Canal, a position which required organizing

ability of the highest order. It was at my request that he was ordered

abroad to organize our European air forces. Captain Cone now came to

Paris and plunged into the work of organizing naval aviation with all

his usual vigour.

It subsequently became apparent, however, that London would be a better

place for his work than Paris, and Captain Cone therefore took up his

headquarters in Grosvenor Gardens. Under his administration naval

aviation foreign service grew to the proportions I have indicated and

included in France six seaplane stations, three dirigible stations, two

kite balloon stations, one school of aerial gunnery, one assembly and

repair base, and the United States Naval Northern Bombing Group. In the

British Isles there were established four seaplane stations and one kite

balloon station in Ireland; one seaplane station and one assembly and

repair base in England; and in Italy we occupied, at the request of the

Italian Government, two seaplane stations at Pescara and Porto Corsini

on the Adriatic. From these stations we bombed to good effect Austrian

naval bases in that area. To Lieutenant-Commander J. L. Callan,

U.S.N.R.F., is due much of the credit for the cordial relations which

existed between the Italians and ourselves, as well as for the efficient

conduct of our aviation forces in Italy under his command.

Probably the most completely equipped aviation centre which we

constructed was that at Pauillac, France, under the command of Captain

F. T. Evans, U.S.N.; here we built accommodation for 20,000 men; we had

here what would have eventually been a great airplane factory; had the

war continued six months longer, we would have been turning out planes

in this place on a scale almost large enough to supply our needs. The

far-sighted judgment and the really extraordinary professional ability

of civil engineers D. G. Copeland and A. W. K. Billings made such work

possible, but only, I might add, with the hearty co-operation of

Lieutenant-Commander Benjamin Briscoe and his small band of loyal and

devoted co-workers. Another great adventure was the establishment of our

Northern Bombing Group, under the command of Captain David C. Hanrahan,

U.S.N.; here we had 112 planes, 305 officers, and more than 2,000

enlisted personnel, who devoted all of their attention to bombing German

submarine bases at Zeebrugge and Ostend. This enterprise was a joint one

with the marines under the command of Major A. A. Cunningham, an

experienced pilot and an able administrator, who performed all of his

various duties not only to my entire satisfaction but in a manner which

reflected the greatest credit to himself as well as to the Marine Corps

of which he was a worthy representative. Due to the fact that the

rapidity of our construction work had exceeded that with which airplanes

were being built at home, we entered into an agreement with the Italian

Government whereby we obtained a number of Caproni planes in exchange

for raw materials. Several of these large bombing airplanes were

successfully flown over the Alps to the fields of Flanders, under the

direction of Lieutenant-Commander E. O. MacDonnell, who deserves the

greatest credit for the energetic and resourceful manner in which he

executed this difficult task.

In September, 1918, Captain Cone's duties took him to Ireland; the ship

on which he sailed, the _Leinster_, was torpedoed in the Irish Sea;

Captain Cone was picked up unconscious in the water, and, when taken to

the hospital, it was discovered that both his legs were broken. It was

therefore necessary to appoint another officer in his stead, and I

selected Lieutenant W. A. Edwards, who had served with credit on the

destroyer _Cushing_, and who, for some time, had been second in command

to Captain Cone in the aviation section. It was almost unprecedented to

put at the head of such an important branch a young lieutenant who had

only been out of the naval academy for a few years; ordinarily the

duties would have required a man of Admiral's rank. Lieutenant Edwards,

however, was not only extremely capable, but he had the gift of getting

along splendidly with our Allies, particularly the British, with whom

our intercourse was necessarily extensive, and with whom he was very

popular. He remained in charge of the department for the rest of the

war, winning golden opinions from his superiors and his subordinates,

and the Distinguished Service Order from King George.

The armistice was signed before our aviation work had got completely

into running order. Yet its accomplishments were highly creditable; and

had the war lasted a little longer they would have reached great

proportions. Of the thirty-nine direct attacks made on submarines, ten

were, in varying degrees, "successful." Perhaps the most amazing hit

made by any seaplane in the war was that scored by Ensign Paul F. Ives;

he dropped a bomb upon a submarine, striking it directly on its deck;

the result was partly tragical, partly ludicrous, for the bomb proved to

be a "dud" and did not explode! In commenting upon this and another

creditable attack, the British Admiralty wrote as follows:

I beg to enclose for your information reports of attacks made on

two enemy submarines on the 25th March by Pilot Ensign J. F.

McNamara, U.S.N., and Pilot Ensign P. F. Ives, U.S.N.

The Admiralty are of opinion that the submarine attacked by Pilot

Ensign McNamara was damaged and that the attack of Pilot Ensign

Ives might also have been successful had not his bombs failed to

explode, which was due to no fault of his own.

I should add that Wing Commander, Portsmouth Group has expressed

his appreciation of the valuable assistance rendered by the United

States Pilots.

At the cessation of hostilities we had a total of more than 500 planes

of various descriptions actually in commission, a large number of which

were in actual operation over the North Sea, the Irish Sea, the Bay of

Biscay, and the Adriatic; our bombing planes were making frequent

flights over enemy submarine bases, and 2,500 officers and 22,000

enlisted men were making raids, doing patrols, bombing submarines,

bombing enemy bases, taking photographs, making reconnaissance over

enemy waters, and engaging enemy aircraft. There can be no doubt but

that this great force was a factor in persuading the enemy to

acknowledge defeat when he did. A few simple comparisons will

illustrate the gigantic task which confronted us and the difficulties

which were successfully overcome in the establishment of our naval

aviation force on foreign service. If all the buildings constructed and

used for barracks for officers and men were joined end to end, they

would stretch for a distance of twelve miles. The total cubic contents

of all structures erected and used could be represented by a box 245 ft.

wide, 300 ft. long, and 1,500 ft. high. In such a box more than ten

Woolworth buildings could be easily placed. Twenty-nine telephone

exchanges were installed, and in addition connections were made to

existing long-distance lines in England and France, and approximately

800 miles of long-distance lines were constructed in Ireland, so that

every station could be communicated with from London headquarters. The

lumber used for construction work would provide a board-walk one foot

wide, extending from New York City to the Isle of Malta--a distance of

more than 4,000 miles.

When we consider the fact that during the war naval aviation abroad grew

in personnel to be more than one-half the size of the entire pre-war

American navy, it is not at all astonishing that all of those regular

officers who had been trained in this service were employed almost

exclusively in an administrative capacity, which naturally excluded them

from taking part in the more exciting work of bombing submarines and

fighting aircraft. To their credit be it said that they chafed

considerably under this enforced restraint, but they were so few in

number that we had to employ them not in command of seaplanes, but of

air stations where they rendered the most valuable service.

For the reserves I entertain the very highest regard and even personal

affection. Collectively they were magnificent and they reflected the

greatest credit upon the country they served so gallantly and with such

brilliant success. I know of no finer individual exploit in the war than

that of Ensign C. H. Hammon who, while attached to our Air Station at

Porto Corsini, took part in a bombing raid on Pola, in which he engaged

two enemy airplanes and as a result had his plane hit in several places.

During this engagement a colleague, Ensign G. H. Ludlow, was shot down.

Ensign Hammon went to his rescue, landed his boat on the water just

outside of Pola harbour, picked up the stricken aviator, and flew back

to Porto Corsini, a distance of seventy-five miles. A heavy sea made it

highly probable that his frail boat, already damaged by his combat with

the enemy, would collapse and that he would be drowned or captured and

made a prisoner of war. For this act of courageous devotion to duty I

recommended Ensign Hammon for the Congressional Medal of Honour.

The mention of this officer calls to my mind the exploits of

Lieutenant-Commander A. L. Gates, who was the second of only three

officers attached to the Naval Forces in Europe whom I recommended for

the Congressional Medal of Honour. The citation in the case of Gates

reads as follows and needs no elaboration to prove the calibre of the

man: "This officer commanded the U.S. Naval Air Station, Dunkirk,

France, with very marked efficiency and under almost constant shell and

bomb fire from the enemy. Alone and unescorted he rescued the crew of a

British airplane wrecked in the sea off Ostend, for which he was awarded

the Distinguished Flying Cross by the British Government. This act of

bravery was actually over and above the duties required of this officer

and in itself demonstrates the highest type of courage.

Lieutenant-Commander Gates took part in a number of flights over the

enemy lines and was shot down in combat and taken prisoner by the enemy.

He made several heroic and determined attempts to escape. During all of

his service this officer was a magnificent example of courage, modesty,

and energetic devotion to duty. He at all times upheld the very highest

traditions of the Naval Service."

Volumes could well be written about the work of these splendid young

Americans--of how Ensign Stephen Potter shot down in flames an enemy

seaplane from a position over Heligoland Bight; unfortunately he made

the supreme sacrifice only a month later when he in turn was shot down

in flames and fell to his resting-place in the North Sea; and of De

Cernea and Wilcox and Ludlow. Theirs was the spirit which dominated the

entire Force and which made it possible to accomplish what seemed at

times to be almost the impossible. It was the superior "will to victory"

which proved to be invincible.

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