COURAGE
The four friends from Seacove were not the only members of the ship's
company that saw the depth bomb break loose from its fastenings. The
second in command of the submarine chaser, Ensign Filson, and two seamen
on lookout were on duty aft.
"Stop that thing!" shouted the ensign.
He was young and inexperienced, and he did not start for the rolling
cylinder himself. Had it been Ensign MacMasters, Phil Morgan and his
friends knew that he would have jumped for the bomb as he shouted the
order.
The two lookouts were not supposed to leave their positions at such a
call; but it was a direct command. They turned from their posts at the
rail where they were scanning the sea on either hand just as the depth
bomb made its second plunge across the deck.
It crashed into the port rail and then, as the chaser jerked her tail in
the heavy cross seas like a saucy catbird, the dangerous cylinder dashed
to starboard again.
"Stop it!" cried Mr. Filson for the second time; and just then _the
safety pin dropped out_!
The first lookout had almost clutched the plunging cylinder as it passed
him on its backward roll.
"Ware the bomb!" shouted his mate, and both of them leaped away from the
vicinity of the peril.
Nor were they to be blamed. With the pin out it was to be expected that
the big bomb would immediately explode. It banged against the rail, then
charged across the deck again. Every time it collided with an obstacle
the spectators expected it to blow up and burst the after part of the
ship asunder.
To the credit of Ensign Filson be it said that he did not fall back from
his post on the quarter. Nor did he directly order, now that he thought
of it, any particular man to try to hold the plunging bomb. It was work
for a volunteer--a man who was willing to take his life in his hands.
There is a quality of courage that is higher than that which takes men
into battle along with their fellows. The companionship of others in the
charge breeds courage in many weak souls.
But to start alone on a dangerous mission, the lone man in an almost
hopeless cause, calls for a steadiness of courage that few can rise to.
The four young fellows clinging together behind Mr. Filson were shot
with fear, as they might very well be. At any second the bomb was likely
to explode, and they were so near that they could not possibly escape
the full force of the blast.
Even if the chaser herself escaped complete destruction, they could not
dodge the effect of the explosion; but like the ensign they would not
retreat.
These bombs are timed to explode at about an eighty-foot depth. A very
few seconds would bring about the catastrophe. Every man on the deck of
the S. P. 888 felt that.
Suddenly, along the deck charged a sturdy figure--a human battering ram.
The other men were knocked aside. One of the lookouts was toppled over
by the newcomer, falling flat upon his back and was shot by the next
plunge of the craft into the scuppers amidships.
"Hi! Hi! Seven Knott!" yelled Al Torrance.
"Good old _Colodia_! Go to it!" joined in the excited Frenchy.
Philip Morgan was already crouching for a leap. Seven Knott passed him
and threw himself upon the unleashed peril that rolled about the deck.
He grasped the cylinder as he fell, but it was snatched out of his arms
by the next plunge of the vessel. Seven Knott got to his knees and
sought to seize the bomb again when it charged back across the deck.
The thing seemed actually to evade him; and swinging at an unexpected
angle as Seven Knott threw himself desperately forward, the heavy
cylinder banged the boatswain's mate on the head.
The man was knocked down by the blow. He suddenly straightened out and
then relaxed, at full length, upon the sliding deck. Like an inanimate
lump his body followed the runaway bomb, but more slowly, to the lower
rail.
Again the deck heaved upon that side, and the cylinder roared across it.
It missed the unconscious petty officer. At that instant Whistler Morgan
made his leap.
He had taken time to study the angle at which the bomb was rolling; he
fell upon and grappled it as though it were a football.
"Oh! Oh! _Colodia!_" yelled his three mates in wild excitement.
"Hurray!"
"Well done, _Colodia_!" echoed a voice behind them, and Ensign
MacMasters appeared from the after hatchway, with the commanding officer
of the S. P. 888 in his wake.
Some of the chaser's crew were now approaching the scene from forward.
Ensign Filson leaped for the safety pin that had been jerked out of the
depth bomb just as Phil Morgan, on his knees, set the bomb up on its
flat end.
"Good boy, Whistler!" shrieked Torry.
Ensign Filson reached the spot and slipped the plug into place. Between
them they held the bomb upright on its flat end until the seamen could
pass a line around it.
The dangerous thing had yet to be held right there until Lieutenant
Perkins ordered the submarine chaser headed up into the sea. Then the
bomb could be removed to a place of safety.
The whole affair had occupied seconds, that is all. But all felt as
though an hour had passed!
"Good boy, Morgan!" declared Ensign MacMasters, his face shining with
approval. "Is the mate hurt badly?"
The petty officer was still unconscious. They picked him up to carry him
below. Then the whole crowd began to cheer, and the officers did not
forbid it. Even Lieutenant Perkins wrung Phil Morgan's hand as he stood
abashed in the center of the congratulatory group on the quarter deck.
"I'd be proud to have you as one of my own crew, Morgan," said the
commander of the submarine chaser. "Ensign MacMasters is to be
congratulated that he takes aboard the _Kennebunk_ such an altogether
admirable young man. You will hear from this, Master Morgan. You
deserve the Medal of Honor and whatever other honor and special
emolument it is in the power of the Secretary of the Navy to award."
He turned to MacMasters: "And your boatswain's mate deserves mention,
too. That he did not succeed in doing what this young man accomplished,
was not for lack of courage to attempt it. They are both men that the
Navy may be proud of. With a will, men!" and he led in another cheer.
"Oi, oi, Whistler!" whispered Ikey when the greatly abashed Morgan went
forward, "you'll be an admiral next. If you beat me to it, what will my
papa and mama say?"