THE S. O. S. FROM THE “GRISWOLD”
“Belle on her way, and due soon to arrive!” Dave Darrin cried, joyously,
as he read the cablegram that had been handed to him on his arrival at
the American admiral’s headquarters.
That cablegram had lain there for days, having arrived the same forenoon
that Darrin had put to sea on the voyage of the “Prince” with Dalzell in
command.
Belle was his wife, his schoolboy sweetheart, whom he had not seen in
many months. He had known that she was trying to induce the Red Cross
authorities to send her to France, but had had no word to the effect
that she had been successful.
Now he knew, from the number by which the expected ship was designated
in the cablegram, that she was on the passenger liner “Griswold.”
“When is the ‘Griswold’ due?” Dave asked a clerk at headquarters.
“Arrival date hasn’t been reported,” answered the clerk, “but it should
be in to-day. I’ve an idea, sir, that the ‘Griswold’ cannot be far out
now.”
“Your sailing orders, Darrin!” hailed a staff officer, walking briskly
up and holding out a bulky envelope.
“Do I have a few days in port?” Dave inquired, hopefully.
“Sorry to say that you do not. You are required to drop out with the
tide at four this afternoon.”
“Very good,” nodded Dave, pleasantly, though he did deeply regret that
he could not have a few days in port. He must miss meeting Belle, who
was bound for this same port.
“Your orders, too, Dalzell,” continued the staff officer, handing Dan an
envelope of appearance similar to that which Darrin had received.
“Sailing orders for to-day for me, too?” he grinned.
“Same time as Darrin’s,” and the staff officer had hurried away.
While the friends had been out on their last cruise two big, new
destroyers, lately commissioned, had arrived from the United States.
To Darrin and Dalzell, in recognition of their fine work against
submarines, had fallen the commands of these new sea terrors.
The “Asa Grigsby” was Dave’s new craft; to Dan had fallen the “Joseph
Reed.”
Ordinarily Dave would have been glad of his fine new command and prompt
sailing orders. Now, he wished regretfully that he could have had a few
days ashore. That he might meet the “Griswold” at sea, of which there
was not more than half a chance, meant little to him. He would, in that
case, pass the ship on which Belle journeyed, but that would mean
nothing.
“Oh, well, it’s war-time,” Dave sighed, when Dan expressed sympathy. “A
few years of war, you know, and then a man will have a chance to see his
home folks again, once in a while.”
“It’s tough, that’s what it is,” answered Dan, sympathetically.
“No, it isn’t even that,” Dave rejoined, quickly. “There are thousands
of men at sea on ships who may not see their wives again unless we chaps
do our duty all the time. There are scores of women on the sea whose
husbands will never see them again if we sleep or lag. The men of the
destroyer fleet have no right to think of their own pleasure or
convenience. I’m ready for sea, and I pray for a busy and successful
cruise against the enemy!”
Only from the deck of the “Prince” had the two chums seen their new
craft. Now they went down the hill toward the harbor, ready to report
and take over their ships.
It was the first time during the war that the two chums had sailed
separately. It was also Dan Dalzell’s first regular command, for the
“Prince” had been handed over to him only on temporary detail.
“We’ll miss each other, Danny-boy,” cried Dave, regretfully, as the
chums gripped each other’s hands at the quay. “We’ve been used to
sailing together.”
“We can have a radio talk once in a while,” Dan returned glumly.
“Yes, but we’re supposed to talk by radio only on official matters.”
“We can at least find out when we’re near each other.”
After they had entered their respective gigs, and had started toward
their craft, the chums waved hands toward each other.
Then Darrin, turning his thoughts to duty, tried to forget his
disappointment over his inability to meet Belle.
Going up over the side of the “Grigsby,” Dave was greeted by the watch
officer. Then his new executive officer, Lieutenant Fernald, reported to
him and greeted him. Dave’s baggage was taken to the commanding
officer’s quarters, and he followed to direct his new steward in the
unpacking.
This done, Darrin went out on deck and ordered all officers and men
assembled that he might take over the command formally by reading the
orders assigning him to the “Grigsby.”
This formality over, Dave sent a messenger after one petty officer whom
he had observed in the crew. A boatswain’s mate came promptly, saluted
and reported.
“I noted your face, Runkle, and I’m glad indeed to see you on this
ship,” Darrin informed him, heartily.
“I’m glad to hear you say that, sir,” replied Runkle, with another
salute. “I was ordered to this craft only this forenoon, sir.”
“Yes; I’m glad to have you aboard, Runkle, for I remember that I’ve had
some of my best luck when you were at hand. I think I shall have to
appoint you my personal mascot,” Darry laughed.
“I’ll be that, or anything else that will serve, sir,” Runkle declared,
gravely, his face flushing with pleasure over Dave’s cordiality.
“This is a fine new craft, Runkle.”
“Yes, sir; one of the two best destroyers that the United States has put
in commission since the war began. I’m eager, sir, to see the best that
the ‘Grigsby’ can do.”
“The best that the ‘Grigsby’ and her complement can do,” Dave Darrin
amended.
Then, accompanied by the executive officer, Darrin started on a tour of
inspection of the “Grigsby.”
“It seems a shame, doesn’t it,” Dave asked, “to think that a magnificent
craft like this, costing a huge fortune, can be destroyed in a moment by
contact with a single torpedo fired from some sneaking German
submarine.”
“But it seems just as good the other way, sir, to think that such a
craft as this can, perhaps, sink a dozen of the submarines before she
meets her own fate.”
“I never fully appreciated before this war what war to the hilt meant,”
Dave went on, thoughtfully. “Of course I knew that it spelled ‘death’
for many of the fighters, but it also means the destruction of so much
property, the ruining of so much material that the world needs for its
comfort! The world will be hard up, for a century to come, on account of
the waste of useful materials caused by this war’s destructiveness.”
“But may the ‘Grigsby’ do her share of that destructive work!” said
Lieutenant Fernald, fervently. “The property that we destroy belongs to
those who would set the world back a thousand years!”
“I’m afraid we must go on destroying enemy property, and our own, too,
in accomplishing harm to the enemy, Mr. Fernald. The more swiftly we
destroy, the sooner our struggles against the German madmen will be
ended!”
All was in readiness to sail. Punctually to the minute the “Grigsby” and
the “Reed,” with anchors up, began to move out of the harbor. Both had
their general orders as to the course to be followed, the length and
duration of the cruise, too, with discretion as to changing their orders
in emergencies such as might arise.
Hardly had they put out from port when the “Grigsby” and the “Reed”
parted company.
For the first hour Darrin, following orders, ran at full speed, then
slowed down to cruising speed. Night came upon the waters, with a
crescent moon off in the western sky.
“And somewhere out on this wide waste, somewhere west of here, probably,
is the ‘Griswold,’ with Belle aboard. And, unless she has liberty to
remain in port, I shall not see her in months, perhaps, or maybe in
years.”
Dave put the thought aside. He was out again in the haunts of the
assassins of the sea; out, also, in the track of vessels bringing men
and supplies for the world’s greatest fight. Disappointed as he was over
the impossibility of meeting Belle, he realized how small his own
affairs were as compared with the fate of the world.
At midnight he went below, for he had confidence in the new junior
officers whom he had met to-day, and he wanted to be awake and on the
bridge again just before dawn. So, leaving orders for his calling, he
went below to his quarters.
And there he slept, dreaming of Belle, undoubtedly, until an hour before
dawn, when an orderly entered hurriedly, shaking him hard by the
shoulder.
“Message from liner ‘Griswold,’ sir, reports by radio that she has just
dodged torpedo fired by submarine that is still following.”
“The ‘Griswold!’” echoed Darrin, awaking instantly and leaping to his
feet. “You’re sure of the name?”
“Yes, sir!”
Dave pulled on rubber boots and snatched his cap and sheepskin coat.
Then, a second orderly reported:
“S. O. S. from ‘Griswold’, sir! Just struck and believed to be in
sinking condition!”