SOMEWHERE IN THE NORTH SEA
The _Dewey_ was off! Shortly after midnight the little craft got under
way, with her nose pointed out of the harbor.
"I guess it's 'so long U.S.A.' this time," confided Jack to his chum,
as they stood together, aft the conning tower.
"Gee, I'm glad we're off!" answered Ted. "I only hope we are going
over there with the rest of the boys."
Although they had yet to learn officially their destination, the
Brighton boys, together with other members of the crew of the _Dewey_,
took it for granted they now were on their way to Europe to join the
great American fleet and battle with the Imperial German Navy for the
mastery of the sea. It had been noised about ever since their
enlistment that Uncle Sam's submarine fleet was soon to be sent
abroad.
"Going to fight the U-boat snakes with made-in-America snakes!" was
the way Bill Witt had sized up, the situation one evening when he and
the Brighton recruits had been discussing the likelihood of their
getting out on the firing line at an early date.
Jovial Bill Witt had proved such a capital good fellow that Jack and
Ted had taken a great liking to him. The three boys were great pals
by this time and were always together in their leisure moments.
Temperamental Jean Cartier, the smiling little Frenchman who had
shipped aboard the _Dewey_ as chief commissary steward, very often
joined their circle and spun the boys stories of that dear France
and his home near Marseilles.
To-night it was different. There was no levity. Every man seemed to
sense the situation and stood to his post of duty grimly conscious of
the serious business upon which he had embarked. Through the minds of
the lads flitted visions of home and campus.
Jack, dreaming of good old Brighton, was stirred out of his reverie
by his chum.
"Do you suppose we will go all the way over under our own power, or
will we be towed?" Ted was asking.
"Haven't the least doubt but that we'll stand on our own sea legs,"
replied Jack. "Don't you remember how we read in the papers early
in the war of a bunch of submarines put together in the St. Lawrence
River going all the way across to Gibraltar and thence through the
Mediterranean to the Dardanelles under their own power?"
Ted did remember, now that it had been called to his mind. It had
gripped their imagination at the time; it seemed such a wonderful
thing, the fact that submarines small enough to be carried on the
decks of huge liners had been able to cross the Atlantic alone and
unaided. They had been still further amazed by the feats of the
German undersea cargo carrier Deutschland that had made the trip to
America and back, and the U-53 that suddenly popped into Newport one
summer afternoon.
The night dragged along. Now that they were fairly off, Jack and Ted
preferred not to sleep, but rather to keep tabs on the maneuvers of
the American fleet. The sea was calm and the _Dewey_ cruised on the
surface, with her hatches open. The boys were able to stretch
themselves in a promenade on the aft deck and found the night air
invigorating as they speculated together on their mission.
They had soon to find out something of the number and character of
warships in the fleet of which the _Dewey_ was a unit. As daybreak
came stealing up over the horizon they looked about them to discern
many other warships all about them. Far to port, strung out in
single file about a half mile apart, were three huge liners that
they took to be troopships. Deployed around them were destroyers---four
of them---riding like a protecting body guard. Bobbing about at
intervals in the maritime procession were other submarines, their
conning towers silhouetted against the dim skyline.
Relieved of duty, Jack and Ted went below and turned in for a two-hour
sleep. When they climbed up through the forward hatch again after
breakfast it was to find the sun shining bright and the fleet moving
majestically eastward.
Chief Gunner's Mate Mike Mowrey confided to them that the _Dewey_
was, indeed, bound for European waters. Lieutenant McClure had opened
his sealed orders and learned that he was to report to the Vice-Admiral
in the North Sea. Word had been passed around to the ship's officers
and they in turn were "tipping off" their men. The _Dewey_ was stripped
for action and was to assist the destroyers in defense of the transports
in the event of an attack.
The first day out was spent in drills and target practice. Late in
the afternoon a huge warship was sighted dead ahead and for a time
there was a bit of anxious waiting aboard the _Dewey_. While it was
generally known that the German high seas fleet was bottled up in the
Kiel Canal, there was always a chance of running into a stray raider.
But very shortly the oncoming vessel broke out a flutter of flags,
indicating that she was a French cruiser, and exchanged salutations
with the commander of the American fleet.
The men of the _Dewey_ soon learned that the troopships which they
were escorting carried a number of regiments of marines and several
detachments of U.S. Regulars bound for France. Because the submarines
were slower than either the transports or the destroyers, the fleet
made slow progress.
They had been at sea over a week and were entering the war zone when,
late one afternoon, there came a sharp cry from the lookout in the
_Dewey's_ deck steering station.
"Periscope two points off the starboard!"
Instantly an alarm to general quarters was sounded. Jack and Ted,
detailed in the same gun crew, had just come on duty at the forward
gun. The _Dewey's_ wireless was flashing the news to the rest of the
fleet.
The destroyers drew in closer to the troopships and began immediately
belching forth dense black clouds of smoke under forced draft that the
boys divined instantly as the smoke screens used so effectively as a
curtain to blind the eyes of the U-boats.
Turning her nose outward from the hidden transports the _Dewey_ drew
away in a wide sweeping circle to starboard.
"All hands below!" came the order. Immediately the deck guns were made
fast and the crew scrambled down through the hatches. In a few minutes,
driving ahead at full speed, the _Dewey_ was submerged until only her
periscopes showed.
All at once the crew heard a shout from the conning tower.
"There she is!" yelled Lieutenant McClure, as he stood with his eyes
glued to the periscope glass.
"U-boat driving straight ahead at the smoke curtain. Port the helm!"
he commanded.
The _Dewey_ came around sharp and, in response to the guidance of her
commander, began to ascend.
Having executed a flank movement, the _Dewey_ now was endeavoring to
engineer a surprise attack on the German submarine from the rear. To
all intents, the German commander had not yet noted the approaching
American submersible. He was going after the transports full tilt,
hoping to bore through the destroyers' smoke curtain and torpedo one
of the Yankee fleet.
Quickly the _Dewey_ dived up out of the water, the hatches were thrown
open and the gun crews swarmed on deck, carrying shells for their
guns. Jack and Ted followed Mike Mowrey on deck and dropped into
position behind "Roosey." Gazing ahead they could make out the German
periscope and its foamy trail.
"Fire on that periscope," ordered Lieutenant McClure.
The U-boat was not more than nine hundred yards away, according to the
_Dewey's_ range-finder, and apparently yet unconscious of the proximity
of the American submarine. In a moment the gun was loaded and ready
for firing.
"Bang!" she spoke, and then every eye followed the shot. Commander
McClure had jumped up on the conning tower and was hugging the periscope
pole. There was a moment's silence before he spoke.
"A little short, boys," he called. "Elevate just a little more---you've
nearly got the range."
Again the gun crew leaped into action.
"Hurry, boys! he sees us now and is beginning to submerge!" yelled the
young lieutenant as he followed the U-boat through his glasses.
Again "Roosey" spoke, and this time with an emphatic "crack" that boded
ill for any luckless human who might get within the line of its
screaming shell fire.
"O-o-o-oh, great!" cried Lieutenant McClure an instant later as he
peered more intently through his glasses.
Of a sudden the periscope disappeared from the crest of the sea as
though wiped out completely by the explosion of the _Dewey's_ shell.
"No doubt of it, boys; you ripped off that periscope," announced
McClure, with an air of finality.
At their commander's words the gun crew burst into cheers. The
submersible's wireless was singing out a message of good cheer to
the American fleet. It was only too evident that the enemy U-boat had
been crippled and put completely to rout by the daring maneuvers and
deadly gunfire of the _Dewey_.
"Who said the Yanks couldn't stop their pesky undersea wasps?" chattered
Bill Witt joyously. "If they just let us loose long enough we'll show
'em how to kill poison with poison."
Mike Mowrey was in great glee.
"Just like a grasshopper begging for mercy on a bass hook," he said
jauntily, imitating with a crook of his finger the disappearing
periscope.
Soon the fleet was off Cape Clear on the southernmost point of the
Irish coast and very shortly headed well into the English Channel.
Now every few hours the American warships were speaking one or other
of the English and French patrol ships. Great was the joy of the
boys aboard the _Dewey_ when first they beheld an American destroyer
out on the firing line.
"Union Jack and French tricolor look pretty good; but none of them
makes a fellow's blood tingle like the Stars and Stripes; eh, chum?"
queried Jack, as he surveyed an American destroyer dashing along in
fine fettle. And Ted heartily agreed.
Off Falmouth, the transports, accompanied by three of the American
destroyers and two English "limeys "---as the British destroyers are
known in the slang of the sea---slipped off silently into the twilight.
The American infantry and marines were to be landed "somewhere in
France." Jack and Ted viewed the departure with mingled pride and
regret.
"Reckon they will be in the trenches before long," ventured Ted.
"Frisking bean balls at the Fritzes," snapped Bill Witt with a chuckle
as he joined his mates.
And now the submarine fleet continued on its way into the North Sea.
An American destroyer, two English "limeys" and a French vessel of
the same type were to escort the Yankee subs the rest of the way.
By morning the _Dewey_ had slipped through the Strait of Dover and
emerged at last into the North Sea---the field of her future activities!
There, in due time, the subs reported to the American admiral. Without
any delay they were detailed for duty in the vast arena stretching
down the Strait of Dover northward to the Norwegian coast---from
Wilhelmshaven to the east coast of England and Scotland.
Provisioned and refueled after an inspection and test of her engines,
the _Dewey_ lost no time in getting out on the firing line. London
papers, brought on board while the Yankee submersible rested in the
English naval station at Chatham, told of a daring raid by German
light cruisers on the east coast of England only the night before.
Eluding the allied patrol ships, the raiders had slipped through the
entente lines and bombarded a number of coast towns, escaping finally
in a running fight with English cruisers.
"That was before we got over here," said Bill Witt with a show of irony
as he read the meager dispatch in the London Times. "Wait till we
Yanks meet up with the Huns!"
An opportunity came shortly. One night, little more than a week after
the _Dewey_ had put out into the North Sea, she ran plumb into a huge
warship. The little submarine had taken a position about twenty miles
directly west of the great German stronghold at Heligoland in a lane
likely to be traveled by any outcoming warships.
Executive Officer Cleary, alone in the conning tower, had suddenly
been apprised of the approach of the vessel by a message from the
wireless room. The _Dewey_ was floating in twenty feet of water with
only her periscopes, protruding above the surface. Hardly had he gazed
into the glass before he made out dimly the outlines of the approaching
vessel.
At once the crew was sounded to quarters.
"German raider!" the muffled cry ran through the ship.