Transcriber's Notes:
Blank pages have been eliminated.
Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the original.
A few typographical errors have been corrected.
The cover page was created by the transcriber and can be considered public domain.

From painting in Navy Department by R. S. Meryman

OUR NAVY AT WAR

BY
JOSEPHUS DANIELS
SECRETARY OF THE NAVY
1913 to 1921

Illustrated with Reproductions of Original
and Official Photographs

Pictorial Bureau
Washington, D. C.
1922

COPYRIGHT BY
Pictorial Bureau
1922

To the Six Hundred Thousand Men

Who Served in the United States Navy
and Marine Corps in the World War

Manning more than two thousand vessels—

Operating with Allied Navies from the Arctic to the Adriatic—

Transporting troops and supplies across the Atlantic—

Protecting ships from attack and destruction—

Driving off and defeating the murderous submarines,
You made safe the seas, and
Kept open the Road to France, so that,
Of all the vast Army sent overseas,
Not one soldier on an American troop-ship
Lost his life on the way to France.

Fighting with the Army, your comrades,
The Soldiers of the Sea, won fame in
Hard-fought battles that saved Paris,
Drove back the German hordes, and
Won for Humanity Complete and Glorious Victory.

In recognition of your splendid service, your dauntless deeds, this work is dedicated by one who was sometime your commander and always your shipmate.

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

Our Navy at War

CHAPTER I
WHEN THE WAR CALL CAME

NEWS FLASHED TO SHIPS AND STATIONS FIVE MINUTES AFTER PRESIDENT SIGNED DECLARATION—ENTIRE NAVY MOBILIZED AT ONCE—FLEET, ON WAR BASIS SINCE BREAK WITH GERMANY, WAS AT YORKTOWN—"IN BEST STATE OF PREPAREDNESS IT HAD EVER BEEN," ADMIRAL MAYO SAID—OFFICERS AND MEN EAGER FOR ACTION.

Five minutes after President Wilson signed the war resolution passed by Congress April 6, 1917, the Navy's radio operators were flashing this message to every ship and station:

Sixteen Alnav. The President has signed act of Congress which declares a state of war exists between the United States and Germany. Acknowledge. 131106.

Secnav.

That dispatch had been prepared hours before. Radio and telegraph operators were at their keys waiting for the word to "let it go." Lieutenant Commander Byron McCandless, my naval aide, was waiting in the executive office at the White House. Lieutenant Commander Royal Ingersoll was stationed at the Navy Department, across the street, watching for the signal. The moment the President appended his signature, McCandless rushed out and wigwagged that the resolution had been signed. Ingersoll dashed down the corridor to the Communication office, and ordered the operators to start the "alnav" (all navy) dispatch.

Flashed from the towers at Arlington, in a few minutes it was received by the Atlantic and Pacific fleets, by vessels and stations all along the coast. By radio, telegraph and cable, the message was carried to Panama, across the Pacific to Honolulu, the Philippines, to the vessels on the Asiatic station. By the time the newspaper "extras" were on the street, the naval forces had received notice that we were at war.

The fleet was mobilized that afternoon by the following telegram to the five flagships:

U. S. S. Pennsylvania
U. S. S. Minnesota
U. S. S. Seattle
U. S. S. Columbia
U. S. S. Vestal

Flag Sigcode. Mobilize for war in accordance Department's confidential mobilization plan of March 21. Particular attention invited paragraphs six and eight. Acknowledge.

Josephus Daniels.

[Paragraph 6 assigned the rendezvous of the various forces, and paragraph 8 contained instructions with regard to vessels fitting out at navy yards.]

When this message was received by the Atlantic Fleet, at 1:33 p. m., Admiral Henry T. Mayo, Commander-in-Chief, hoisted on his flagship, the Pennsylvania, the signal, "War has commenced." At 5:50 o'clock he received the mobilization order, for which officers and vessels were so well prepared that Admiral Mayo said he did not have to "give a single order of any kind or description to pass the Fleet from a peace to a war basis." The entire Navy—Department, Fleet, yards and stations—was on a war footing within a few hours after war was declared. Complete instructions and plans, brought up to date, had been issued two weeks previous, and mobilization was completed without an hour's delay.

The Fleet was at its secret rendezvous "Base 2," to which it had sailed from Hampton Roads on April 3, the day after President Wilson delivered his war message to Congress. "Base 2" was Yorktown, Va., one of the most historic spots in America, and our battleships were in sight of the place where Cornwallis surrendered to George Washington. They rode at anchor in the waters where the timely arrival of De Grasse's ships assured the success of the war for American independence.

In those waters, first made historic in naval annals by the presence of the French ships sent to aid the struggling colonists in the crucial days of 1781, the American Navy was making ready to repay that invaluable assistance—to send its vessels to the beleaguered French coast, both to safeguard the vast army America would send to France and to drive back the onrushing enemies that threatened its life. In 1917 the York and the Chesapeake were again the rendezvous of fighting men of the same mettle as those of 1781, who were to strengthen by united service and common sacrifice in the World War the bonds of friendship between France and America that had been forged more than a century before.

And those who fought each other then were comrades now. "Old wars forgot," Great Britain and France for years had held the lines, and America was taking its place beside them, throwing all its power and strength with them against the common foe. From Yorktown went the first United States forces, ordered overseas just after war began. Sent to England's aid, to serve with the British forces, their arrival was hailed as the beginning of a new era in the relations of the nations—the "Return of the Mayflower." And later went huge dreadnaughts to the North Sea, joining the Grand Fleet in the mightiest aggregation of naval power the world has ever seen.

That is a wonderful harbor, there in the York River, with water deep enough for the largest battleship, and broad enough to accommodate a whole fleet. With defenses at the entrance to Chesapeake Bay, and nets, mines and patrol across York River, no submarine could ever hope to penetrate to this safe haven.

"When the active fleet arrived in Hampton Roads about the 1st of April, after its training period in Cuban waters, it was in the best state of preparedness that it had ever been," said Admiral Mayo, "and there was a feeling of confidence in the personnel of being able to cope with any emergency."

"At the end of March, 1917, when we were on the verge of entry into the war," said Rear Admiral Charles P. Plunkett, Director of Gunnery Exercises, "the gunnery was in the highest state of efficiency that it has been in the history of the American Navy."

When the break with Germany came the fleet was in Cuban waters, engaged in target practice, engineering exercises, and battle maneuvers. This intensive training had been going on under regular schedule for more than two years. Every man in the fleet, from the Commander-in-Chief to the youngest recruit, felt in his bones that the maneuvers that spring were a real preparation for war. Eager to get a chance at the Germans, confident that they could defeat any force of similar strength and tonnage afloat; they were just waiting for the word "Go!"

Is there such a thing as mental telepathy! Would you call it that or a mere coincidence, if the same thought at almost the same moment came to the Admiral of the Fleet at Guantanamo and to the Chief of Naval Operations in Washington? That is exactly what occurred on February 4, 1917. And the two dispatches stating the same conclusions in regard to moving the fleet were en route at the same time.

At 3:59 o'clock that afternoon Admiral Mayo sent this message from his flagship at Guantanamo:

Unless instructions are received to the contrary, propose to shift fleet base to Gulf of Guacanayabo after spotting practice February 5th; then proceed with schedule of all gunnery exercises.

Before that message reached Washington, in fact in less than ten minutes after it was handed to the operator in Cuba, the following to Admiral Mayo from Admiral William S. Benson, Chief of Operations, was being sent from the Department:

Position of fleet well known to everybody. If considered advisable on account of submarines, shift base to Gulf of Guacanayabo or elsewhere at discretion. Inform Department confidentially.

The first duty was protection of the Fleet from submarine attack. Four months before the U-53 had called at Newport, and sallying forth, had sunk British vessels just off our coast. On January 16th a Japanese steamer, the Hudson Maru, captured by Germans, a prize crew placed on board, had put into Pernambuco with 287 survivors from half a dozen vessels sunk by a German raider. That raider, as was learned later, was the famous Moewe, which captured twenty-six vessels, sinking all except the Hudson Maru and the Yarrowdale, which carried several hundred prisoners to Germany, among them fifty-nine American sailors.

The Germans could easily send their U-boats across the Atlantic. There was a possibility that they might strike quickly without warning. Naval strategists do not yet understand why Germany did not make an immediate dash against our coasts in the spring of 1917, instead of waiting until 1918. Allied and American officers alike expected the submarines to extend their operations to this side of the Atlantic when this country entered the war. It was necessary to provide for the fleet a rendezvous with which the Germans were not familiar, one easily defended, where battleships could carry on their work free from attack until the time came to bring them into action. But why Guacanayabo?

Though you would hardly notice it on the average map, the Gulf of Guacanayabo is a sizeable body of water, extending in a sort of semicircle some seventy miles, the broadest part about fifteen miles wide. On the southern coast of Cuba, it extends from Santa Cruz del Sur to below Manzanillo, nearly to Cape Cruz. With plenty of deep water inside, once the main channel is closed, only a navigator familiar with the turnings and depths can navigate safely through the other channels, for the Gulf is surrounded by a chain of islands, with many shoals. Difficult for submarines to negotiate submerged, it is easily defended against them.

When Admiral Mayo had placed his ships in this landlocked harbor, shut the door and turned the key, they were as safe as my lady's jewels in a safety deposit vault. At Guacanayabo the fleet continued its work, going out to sea for battle practice and long-range gunnery in the daytime, returning at night to conduct night firing with the secondary batteries, torpedo attack, and other exercises. There was even room in the Gulf to carry on torpedo firing and defense at 10,000 yards distance.

There the fleet remained until it was ordered north, on March 20th. "I feel sure that if this force had engaged an enemy on its cruise north in the spring of 1917, the victory would have been ours," said Admiral Henry B. Wilson, commander of the flagship, and Admiral Joseph Strauss, in command of the Nevada, declared: "In April, 1917, we could have gone out in mid-ocean and engaged the German fleet and come out successfully. Our ships were superior; our guns were superior; I believe our morale was superior."

Upon the arrival of the fleet, Yorktown became the center of battle training. During the entire war this base was one of the busiest places in America. Every ship was carrying on intensive training day and night—training gunners, engineers, firemen, deck officers and crews, armed guards for merchant vessels, men of every rank and rating to man transports, destroyers, patrol craft, and all the many vessels put into European and trans-Atlantic service. In addition to new men in their own crews, the special training squadron of older battleships trained more than 45,000 officers and men for service in other vessels.

When the bugle sounded, they all wanted to get into action. They had looked for the declaration of war as the signal to weigh anchor and set sail for Europe. As the destroyers and patrol craft went overseas and the cruisers plunged across the Atlantic escorting troop-ships and convoys, those who were left behind envied those who had received such assignments. But teaching recruits, tame and tiresome as it was, was their job, most necessary and useful. Until they had their heart's desire and were ordered abroad, they stuck to it with the vim and determination with which they afterwards entered upon the U-boat chase. That was the spirit that won.

Three thousand miles across the seas the men on the British Grand Fleet were likewise eating their hearts out because the enemy dreadnaughts, after the one dash at Jutland, were hugging the home ports, denying to Allied naval forces the chance for which all other days had been but preparation. All naval teaching for generations had instilled into American and British youth the doctrine that, whereas battles on land might continue for months, domination of the sea would be lost or won in a few moments when the giant dreadnaughts engaged in a titanic duel. German naval strategy, after the drawn battle at Jutland, defeated all naval experience and expectation. Hiding behind their strong defenses, never venturing forth in force, they imposed the strain and the unexciting watchful waiting which more than anything else irks men who long to put their mettle to the test by a decisive encounter.

The acme of happiness to the fleets at Yorktown and at Scapa Flow to which all looked, both before and after the American division joined the British Grand Fleet, was a battle royal where skill and courage and modern floating forts would meet the supreme test. It was not to be. The disappointment of both navies was scarcely lessened by the knowledge that they had gained a complete victory through successful methods which a different character of warfare brought into existence. They wished the glorious privilege of sinking the ships in an engagement rather than permitting the Germans later to scuttle them. Admiral Beatty voiced the regret of both navies in his farewell address to his American shipmates, when he said: "I know quite well that you, as well as all of our British comrades, were bitterly disappointed at not being able to give effect to that efficiency you have so well maintained."

The sense of disappointment at the drab ending was heightened by the belief entertained that there had been times when the bold and daring offensive would have compelled a great naval battle. In Germany, fed up for years on the claim of naval superiority and stuffed with fake stories of a great German victory at Jutland, there had been demand that their navy make proof of its worth by giving battle instead of rusting in home ports. Men of the navies that had produced Nelsons, and Farraguts and John Paul Joneses and Deweys grow restive under inaction. They knew that the existence and readiness of the two great fleets and of the French and Italian fleets held the German High Seas Fleet in behind shore protection, rendering impotent the force Von Tirpitz had assured Germany would sink enemy ships. But the dreary program of blockade carried on during four long years was not to their liking. It succeeded, but it was not the finish for which they had trained. They longed to the very end for the real fight, the daring drive, the bringing of their big guns into play, the final combat which could end only with annihilation of the enemy's fleet.

Whatever may be said of the wisdom of the ancient prudent doctrine of "a fleet in being," I shall always believe that, if, at the opportune time, such fighting sailors as Beatty and Carpenter, Mayo and Rodman and Wilson, could have joined in a combined assault, they would have found a way or made one, to sink the German fleet, in spite of Heligoland and all the frowning German guns.

CHAPTER II
"TO BE STRONG UPON THE SEAS"

PRESIDENT IN 1914 LAID DOWN POLICY WHICH GUIDED THE NAVY IN YEARS OF PREPARATION—ON VERGE OF WAR IN 1916—FLEET PREPARED TO MOBILIZE—"DEUTSCHLAND" AND U-53 WARNED US TO EXPECT SUBMARINES—CONGRESS AUTHORIZED BUILDING OF 157 WARSHIPS—MERCHANT SHIPS LISTED, MUNITIONS ACCUMULATED, COUNTRY'S INDUSTRIES SURVEYED.

"We shall take leave to be strong upon the seas," declared President Wilson in his annual message to Congress in December, 1914, and this was the guiding policy in the years of preparation that preceded the war. And the two years that followed were the busiest the Navy has ever known in time of peace.

The United States was on the very verge of war a year before it was declared. All preparations were made to mobilize the Fleet when President Wilson, after the sinking of the Sussex, sent his ultimatum to Germany declaring:

Unless the Imperial Government should now immediately declare and effect an abandonment of its present methods of submarine warfare against passenger and freight-carrying vessels, the Government of the United States can have no choice but to sever diplomatic relations with the German Empire altogether.

That note was despatched on April 18, 1916. Germany did not reply promptly and in a few days the following order was issued:

NAVY DEPARTMENT

Washington, April 27, 1916.

Confidential.

From: Chief of Naval Operations.

Subject: Mobilization Plan.

The following order had this day been approved by the Secretary of the Navy:

"1. In case of mobilization for war in the Atlantic the organization of the naval forces will be as indicated in the mobilization sheets published from time to time by the Department.

"2. Plans will be developed by all officers concerned for execution upon the receipt of the order to mobilize.

"3. The order to mobilize when received will be construed as an order to take all necessary action for the rapid assembly of ships at the rendezvous in all respects ready for war service.

"4. The rendezvous is designated as Chesapeake Bay."

Copies of mobilization sheets are forwarded herewith.

All our battleships except three, and 40 of our 47 destroyers were reported immediately available. Mobilization is the next step to actual hostilities and is only justifiable when conditions are extremely threatening. That was the case in the spring of 1916. In fact, what threatened then was what actually occurred a year later.

The German Government in its note of May 4th met all Wilson's demands, declaring it would do its utmost to confine the operations for the rest of the war to the fighting forces of the belligerent. "Guided by this idea," it notified the United States Government that the German naval forces had received the following orders:

In accordance with the general principles of visit and search and destruction of merchant vessels recognized by international law, such vessels, both within and without the area declared as naval war zone, shall not be sunk without warning and without saving human lives, unless such ships attempt to escape or offer resistance.

It was not until Feb. 1, 1917, that Germany repudiated this pledge and resumed ruthless U-boat warfare. But it did give us warning that it could send its undersea craft to American waters whenever it chose.

If there ever had been any fancied security from their submarines, it was removed that Sunday, July 9, 1916, when the Deutschland bobbed up in Chesapeake Bay, and a few hours later reached her dock in Baltimore. Coming from Bremen via Heligoland, it had made its way through the North Sea and around Scotland, crossed the ocean and entered Hampton Roads under the very noses of the British cruisers just outside. Two hundred and thirteen feet long, with a displacement, submerged, of 2,200 tons, it had a surface speed of 12 to 14 knots an hour, and could run under water at 7-1/2 knots. Though unarmed, and called a "mercantile submarine," by the placing of guns and torpedo tubes aboard, she could be quickly converted into a man-of-war. The Deutschland came again to America in November, going to New London, Conn., reaching Germany, on her return, December 10. This was her last trip as a merchantman, for she was soon afterwards converted into a warship, and was one of the submarines sent to sink shipping in American waters in 1918.

Even more startling was the visit of the U-53. This German submarine, almost as large as the Deutschland, suddenly appeared off Point Judith and calmly steamed into Newport, R. I., the afternoon of October 7th. Flying the German man-of-war ensign, she carried two guns conspicuously placed. The cruiser Birmingham, Rear Admiral Albert Gleaves commanding, was near by, and the U-53 asked to be assigned a berth. Kapitän Leutnant Hans Rose, her commander, in full uniform, called on the commandant of the Naval Station, stating that his object in entering the port was to "pay his respects," and that he intended to sail at 6 o'clock. He invited our officers to visit his ship, saying he would be glad to "show them around." The crew seemed anxious to impress the Americans with the boat and its mechanism.

While in port, the U-53 was careful not to violate neutrality regulations, but the day after leaving Newport she began a slaughter of vessels. On October 8th, she sank the British steamships Stephano, Strathdine and West Point, the Dutch steamer Blommersdijk, and the Norwegian Chr. Knudsen. The first two were attacked within sight of Nantucket Lightship, just outside the three-mile limit. The others sunk were farther away, but all were near our coast.

The first news we had of this raid was that the American steamer Kansan had been stopped early in the morning by a German submarine, which, after examining her papers, had allowed her to proceed. A short time later a radio message was received stating that the British steamer West Point was being gunned. After that, distress signals came thick and fast. Rear Admiral Gleaves immediately ordered our destroyers to the relief of the vessels attacked, and they rescued crews and passengers, bringing them safely to port.

Within seven or eight months those destroyers were across the Atlantic, fighting the undersea raiders in European waters. And they had their revenge in September, 1918, when an American destroyer and sub-chasers bombed the U-53 with such effect that according to reports, she abandoned the fight, glad to be able to get to her home base.

Thus Germany in 1916 gave us a taste of submarine warfare, showing what it could do and did do in American waters in 1918, and what sound strategy caused naval experts to expect it to undertake in the spring of 1917. The U-53 had been careful not to attack any American vessels, and had conducted its operations outside our territorial waters. But this piece of German bravado aroused the indignation of the entire country. It was a warning—and probably so intended—that the Germans could at any time send their U-boats across the seas to sink our vessels off our own shores.

Even then the country at large seemed to regard our entrance into war as improbable, and to the average man it did seem only a remote possibility; but our attaché in Berlin reported that Germany was building U-boats by scores, the parts being made at plants in various parts of the country, and assembled at coast shipyards. The Germans continued to talk peace, but our Navy continued to build ships, enlist men, and accumulate reserves of guns, ammunition, and war materials.

Congress on August 29, 1916, authorized the construction of 157 war vessels—ten battleships of the largest type and six huge battle cruisers, larger and swifter than any then in existence; ten scout cruisers, fifty destroyers, nine fleet submarines, fifty-eight coast submarines and one of the Neff type; three fuel ships, two destroyer tenders, two gunboats and two ammunition ships, a repair ship, a transport, a hospital ship and a submarine tender. Sixty-six vessels were appropriated for, to be begun in the current year. That bill carried total appropriations of $312,678,000, the largest amount ever granted for naval purposes in time of peace, and larger than previous appropriations when this country was actually engaged in war.

Usually, after vessels are authorized, months are required to prepare the plans and specifications. That was not the case this time. The Bureau of Construction and Repair, under the direction of Rear Admiral David W. Taylor, regarded in this country and abroad as one of the world's ablest naval constructors, had begun work on the plans long before. They were ready when the bill passed Congress. Bids were advertised for the next day, and as soon as the law allowed, contracts were let. Before the end of 1916, we had entered upon the biggest shipbuilding program ever undertaken by any navy at one time.

Providing for an enlisted strength of 74,700 regulars, Congress also authorized the President to increase the Navy to 87,000 in case of emergency. This, with the 6,000 apprentice seamen, the Hospital Corps, and allowance for the sick, prisoners and men on probation, would give us an emergency strength of some 95,000—including both officers and men, a force of over 100,000. Five thousand additional enlisted men and 255 more officers were authorized for the Marine Corps, which could be raised in emergency to 17,500. The increases alone were larger than the entire number of men employed by the Navy in the Spanish War. The Naval Reserve, instituted in 1915, was made a Naval Reserve Force unlimited in numbers.

The Naval Militia had grown to a force of nearly 10,000, and interest had been stimulated by a training cruise for civilians on eleven war vessels, known as the "Ocean Plattsburg." The Act of 1916 laid the basis for the enormous personnel we secured during the war—over half a million men in the Navy, and 75,000 in the Marine Corps. Immediately after its passage, a vigorous recruiting campaign was begun.

Large reserves of powder and shells had been accumulated, but orders were given for much more, and efforts were made to speed up projectiles under manufacture. "We had at the end of 1916," Admiral Strauss, then Chief of the Bureau of Ordnance, stated, "batteries of four guns each for 189 auxiliary ships. These batteries were housed at navy yards, and the full supply of powder, shell, primers, etc., were all prepared and ready for these ships at the nearest ammunition depots, so that in the event of war the guns could be secured on the ships and the magazines and shell-rooms supplied at once."

Equipment for ships to be converted, and spare parts of all kinds were accumulated and stored at points where they would be quickly available. All the bureaus concerned with construction, shipbuilding, conversion, and repair, engines and machinery, ordnance and supplies were increasing production, reporting, as did our vessels, constant improvement in "readiness for war."

This was the result of two years' constant work. Special duties were imposed from the beginning of the European conflict in 1914. Only a few days after hostilities began, the cruisers Tennessee and North Carolina sailed, carrying millions of dollars in gold to relieve the thousands of Americans stranded in Europe, unable to get home. Naval vessels were kept busy along our coasts, enforcing neutrality in our territorial waters. Naval censors were placed at wireless stations, preventing the sending of unneutral messages. Intelligence officers were active in thwarting the machinations of German spies and plotters. But all this was small in comparison with the efforts we were making to increase and improve the Navy in its every branch and prepare it for any emergency.

The sinking of the Lusitania, May 7, 1915, was followed by such naval activity as had never been seen before, except in the midst of hostilities.

Congress had created in the current naval bill a Chief of Naval Operations, charged with "the operation of the fleet and its readiness for war." For this important position, I had, after careful consideration, selected Rear Admiral William S. Benson, whose ability and experience admirably fitted him for this vital task. He assumed office on May 10, three days after the Lusitania went down. It was a critical period. The President on May 13 addressed to Germany his vigorous note giving notice that this Government would omit no word or act to protect its citizens against murder on the seas. Many Americans were urging that war be declared at once. The crisis lasted for weeks, and ended only when the German government gave its promise that non-belligerent vessels would not be sunk without warning.

Admiral Benson, bureau chiefs, commanders, and officials devoted every energy to preparing the fleet for war. Abolition of the cumbersome system of naval aides brought the bureau chiefs in closer touch with the Secretary. There was no longer any division of authority and responsibility, and we could get direct action. On this basis we built up a departmental organization so efficient that no change was found necessary during the entire war period, the bureaus merely expanding to meet the enormously increased demands, each new activity easily fitting into some part of the existing organization.

The General Board of the Navy, of which Admiral Dewey was the head until his death Jan. 16, 1917, had developed a comprehensive administrative plan, under which each bureau was required to report, periodically, on its readiness for war. This enabled us to keep informed of exact conditions and progress made. The Board also worked out a scheme for development of shore bases and stations.

Navy yards were expanded not only to repair and convert vessels, but to build warships of every type. These new ways and shops formed a substantial and valuable addition to the nation's shipbuilding facilities.

I created the Secretary's Advisory Council, consisting of the Assistant Secretary, the Chief of Naval Operations and the chiefs of the various bureaus. Meeting regularly once a week and oftener when necessary, this Council brought together the chief administrative officers of the Department, and discussed all matters of general interest to the service. Thus the heads of bureaus kept in close touch with each other; having the advantage of a General Staff without its many disadvantages.

Comprehensive plans for possible war against Germany—we then called it "war in the Atlantic"—had been made by the General Board, and were constantly corrected and brought up to date in accordance with war developments.

When the fleet was reviewed by President Wilson at New York, May 15, 1915, Admiral Dewey wrote:

The people of New York have just cause for pride in the fleet now assembled in their harbor. Not only is it composed of the finest and most efficient warships that we have ever had, but it is not excelled, except in size, by the fleet of any nation in the world. Our ships and guns are as good as any in the world; our officers are as good as any; and our enlisted men are superior in training, education, physical development and devotion to duty to those of any other navy. As President of the General Board for the past fifteen years, I can say with absolute confidence that the efficiency of the fleet has steadily progressed, and has never been so high as it is today.

For months we had been at work on a plan for reorganizing the fleet. Completed and put into effect in July, 1915, that plan proved so efficient that it was continued throughout the war. Four battleships, the Pennsylvania, Nevada, Oklahoma and Arizona, ten destroyers, seven submarines, and two tenders, the Melville and the Bushnell, were completed in 1915-16.

Battle and target practice were conducted with a constant improvement in gunnery. In August, 1916, there was held off the North Atlantic Coast the largest "war game" in the annals of the Navy. Eighty-three vessels, including twenty-eight battleships and thirteen submarines, engaged in this strategic maneuver, which lasted for four days, and simulated the conditions of a great naval battle.

Congress had, in 1913-14, authorized the construction of five dreadnaughts as compared with only two granted by the previous Congress, and we were building more destroyers and submarines than in previous years. Forty-one more ships were in commission, and there were 5,000 more men in the service than there had been in 1913. The fleet was incomparably stronger than it had ever been before, but we were heartily tired of the hand-to-mouth policy that had prevailed so long, a policy that made it impossible to plan far ahead and develop a consistent and well-balanced fleet. In common with its officers, I wanted the United States to possess a navy equal to any afloat, and to initiate a building program that should be continuous and not haphazard.

Consequently, in July, 1915, I requested Admiral Dewey to have the General Board submit its opinion of what should be done to give us a navy worthy of this country and able to cope with any probable enemy. In response the General Board set forth this policy, which has guided us ever since and is now nearing a triumphant reality:

The Navy of the United States should ultimately be equal to the most powerful maintained by any other nation of the world. It should be gradually increased to this point by such a rate of development, year by year, as may be permitted by the facilities of the country, but the limit above defined should be attained not later than 1925.

WAR CHIEFS OF THE NAVY, THE SECRETARY AND HIS ADVISORY COUNCIL

Seated—Secretary Daniels. Standing (left to right):—Maj. Gen. George Barnett, Commandant U. S. Marine Corps; Capt. W. C. Watts, Judge Advocate General; Hon. Franklin D. Roosevelt, Assistant Secretary of the Navy; Rear Admiral Samuel McGowan, Paymaster General, Chief of the Bureau of Supplies and Accounts; Rear Admiral Robert S. Griffin, Engineer-in-Chief, Chief of the Bureau of Steam Engineering; Rear Admiral David W. Taylor, Chief Constructor, Chief of the Bureau of Construction and Repair; Admiral William S. Benson, Chief of Naval Operations; Rear Admiral Ralph Earle, Chief of the Bureau of Ordnance; Commander H. G. Sparrow, Naval Aide to the Secretary; Rear Admiral Charles W. Parks, Chief of the Bureau of Yards and Docks; Rear Admiral Leigh C. Palmer, Chief of the Bureau of Navigation; Rear Admiral William C. Braisted, Surgeon General, Chief of the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery.

A FRIENDLY BOUT

Spectators on the U. S. S. Bushnell are having as much fun as the boxers.

SCHOOL HOUR ABOARD A BATTLESHIP

It was in accordance with this policy, and at my direction, that the General Board developed the continuous building program, comprising 157 war vessels, later known as the "three-year program," which was authorized by Congress in the next naval appropriation act. Presented in my annual report for 1915, it was strongly urged by President Wilson in his message to Congress, and he sounded the keynote in his speech at St. Louis, February 3, 1916, when he declared: "There is no other Navy in the world that has to cover so great an area of defense as the American Navy, and it ought, in my judgment, to be incomparably the most adequate Navy in the world."

With all the Navy striving to build up and expand the service, I turned attention to other forces that might be utilized. War had become a science; inventions were playing a vastly greater part than ever before, and on July 7, 1915, I wrote to Mr. Thomas A. Edison, suggesting the formation of a board of eminent inventors and scientists, and asking if he would consent to become its head. The idea appealed to Mr. Edison, as it did to the various scientific and engineering societies, and in a few weeks the Naval Consulting Board became a reality. Composed of men of eminence and distinction, this was the first of those organizations of patriotic civilians which, when war came, rendered such signal service to the nation.

This board began in 1915 a survey of all the country's industries and resources which might be employed, in case of war, for the production of munitions and supplies, and the thousand and one things required by armies and navies.

The Navy made a survey of all merchant ships and privately owned craft which might be utilized as auxiliaries. The Board of Inspection and Survey was increased, each vessel listed for service to which it could be adapted, and plans made for all the changes needed to convert it to war purposes. This was worked out to the last detail, even to the yards to which the vessels would be sent, and the accumulation of machinery and materials for their conversion. A standardized schedule was developed of all ammunition, materials, equipment and supplies needed by vessels in case of war.

Aviation received earnest attention. Seaplanes and flying boats were secured, and a school and station established at Pensacola, Fla., for the training of aviators. The cruisers North Carolina, West Virginia, and Washington were fitted with a launching device, from which aeroplanes could fly from ships. Operating with the fleet, our aeroplanes began developing the tactics of aircraft at sea.

During the Sussex crisis, arrangements were made for the mobilization of the communications of the entire United States radio, telegraph and telephone. This important experiment was carried out from May 6 to 8, 1916, and was a complete success, proving that in a day we could link all methods of communication and put in touch all our yards and stations and our ships at sea. Congress had previously authorized the erection of a chain of high power radio stations to span the Pacific—at San Diego, California; Pearl Harbor, Hawaii; and at Cavite, in the Philippines—and these were under construction.

The Naval Communication Service was created and under its direction all our communications, wire and wireless, were prepared for war. This entire service was mobilized the day the United States severed relations with Germany.

Admiral Dewey said, in the autumn of 1916: "The last three years have been wonderful years. I have been in the Navy since 1854, and both in material and personnel, we are more efficient today than ever before." Admiral Charles J. Badger, who, upon the death of Dewey in January, 1917, became head of the General Board, stated: "I do not mean to say that we had attained to perfection in the Navy—we never shall; that no errors of judgment or mistakes were made—they will always occur; but I assert that the Navy when it entered the war was as a whole, well prepared and administered."

CHAPTER III
THE BREAK WITH GERMANY

SURPRISE AND TERROR PLANNED IN STARTING U-BOAT WAR—BERNSTORFF WITHHELD NOTE UNTIL JUST BEFORE SUBMARINES STRUCK—AMERICA'S ENTRANCE COULD NOT AFFECT "TREND OF THE WAR," HOLTZENDORFF INSISTED—FLEET PUT ON WAR BASIS—PLANS MADE TO COOPERATE WITH ALLIES—"GET AND KEEP THE BEST MEN," PRESIDENT TOLD SECRETARIES OF WAR AND NAVY.

Germany struck practically without warning in inaugurating ruthless U-boat warfare. Surprise of Allies and neutrals, giving no time for negotiations, was one thing upon which its Admiralty insisted. Terrorizing America was a part of the plan, and if the United States entered the war, the Teuton naval authorities contended that it would exert no marked influence, and could furnish little assistance in troops or vessels.

Admiral von Holtzendorff, head of the German Admiralty, set forth all this in his memorandum detailing the arrangements for the "U-boat war." That document, one of the German official papers made public after the war, is marked "Strictly secret—B-35840-I," and is dated, "Berlin, Dec. 22, 1916."

"The beginning and the declaration of the unrestricted U-boat war," said Holtzendorff, "must follow so quickly one upon the other that there is no time for negotiations, especially between England and the neutrals. The wholesome terror will exercise in this case upon enemy and neutral alike."

The submarines were to begin the general attack not later than February 1, 1917. England was to be starved out in five months, and the Allies forced to surrender by August 1st. This is all stated in that memorandum, and those exact dates are given.

The probable entrance of the United States as a belligerent was discussed, and Holtzendorff took pains to set forth what little influence this country's participation could have upon the "trend of the war," saying:

As regards tonnage this influence would be negligible. It is not to be expected that more than a small fraction of the tonnage of the Central Powers lying in America and many other neutral harbors could then be enlisted for the traffic to England. For the far greatest part of this shipping can be damaged in such a way that it cannot sail in the decisive time of the first months. Preparations to this effect have been made. There would also be no crews to be found for them.

Just as little decisive effect can be ascribed to any considerable extent to American troops, which, in the first place, cannot be brought over through lack of tonnage.

Bernstorff, the German Ambassador at Washington, carried out his part of the plans to the letter. It was not until a few hours before the submarines were to strike, late in the afternoon of Jan. 31, 1917, that he presented the note of the German Government to the Secretary of State. He had that note in his possession twelve days before he presented it. He admits that it reached the German Embassy in Washington on January 19, the same day that Zimmermann, the German Foreign Minister, sent to Mexico his crafty but absurd proposal that Mexico form an alliance with Japan, and make war with the United States to recover the "lost territory" of New Mexico, Arizona, and Texas. That proposal also passed through the Washington embassy, in the Berlin diplomatic code, and was read by the Ambassador.

Before he presented the note declaring submarine warfare, Bernstorff had given the order that "the engines of all German ships lying in American harbors were to be destroyed." "I had already given instructions to this effect at the time of the Sussex crisis, and these instructions had now been repeated from Berlin," he says in his book. "As a matter of fact it was dangerous to allow of any delay, for on the evening of January 31, our ships were already seized by the American police. As far as I know, however, all of them without exception were made unfit for use before this occurred."

The day ruthless U-boat warfare began, new mobilization plans were prepared and sent out to the entire Navy. Formal action had not then been taken by our Government. Its course was still under consideration and the Cabinet was to meet the next day. But the moment I read the German note, I regarded a break as inevitable, and active hostilities almost certain to follow.

As the Cabinet assembled on Friday, February 2d, all of us realized the significance of the occasion. Parley and negotiation were ended. The time had come for decisive action. That was the conviction, I believe, of every man who rose to greet the President when he entered the room. Usually genial and smiling at the gatherings of his official family, he was now grave and serious. The destiny of a hundred million people lay in his hands, perhaps the destiny of the world.

The Cabinet members had, of course, read the text of the German note, whose meaning was plain enough, camouflaged as it was in diplomatic terms and pretended concessions. All had studied it, and were familiar with its provisions. But the President read it to us again. He read it in measured tones, giving weight to every significant syllable.

His mind was already made up, I felt certain. But before giving voice to his own decision, he called upon his official advisers to state their views. They spoke freely and frankly, each stating just what he thought the situation demanded. Expressions varied, of course, and each man approached the problem in his own way. There were differences of opinion as to details, but none as to the main point. On that, all were agreed. They felt that relations with Germany must be severed.

This was the President's position. He had never wavered from the firm stand he had taken a year before that, if unrestricted submarine warfare was continued, or resumed, the United States could have no further relations with Germany. It was no surprise to him that his colleagues, to a man, shared his views that the Cabinet was a unit for the dismissal of Bernstorff, and the sharpest possible warning to the German Government.

Although the session lasted several hours, this decision was soon reached. It had required no debate. The German note itself was a compelling argument.

Most of the time was devoted to discussing what steps each department should take, particularly State, War and Navy. It was recognized thoroughly that the severance of relations would create a difficult situation, one likely in a few weeks at most to lead to open warfare. It was realized that Germany might strike without waiting for formal declaration from the United States. The sinking of American vessels without warning would be, in itself, an overt act, an act of war. We had to prepare for any eventuality, to map out a program for immediate action.

The following telegram was sent to the entire Navy that night:

Six Alnav. In view of the present international situation, take every precaution to protect Government plants and vessels.

All who received that message knew what it meant, that they were to guard against surprise, and be ready for anything that might arise.

The next afternoon at two o'clock, the President, addressing a joint session of the two houses of Congress, pointed out that Germany had "suddenly and without prior intimation of any kind," deliberately withdrawn the solemn assurances given in its note of May 4, 1916, and announced that all diplomatic relations with Germany had been severed.

At the very hour the President began his address, and Bernstorff was handed his passports, Admiral Mayo, in Cuban waters, issued the first campaign order, putting into effect the plan for the defense of the fleet in Guantanamo Bay. As soon as I returned from the Capitol, this order was sent out:

One Alatl. Radicode. Mobilize Naval Communications.

Secnav.

That placed all our communications—radio, telegraphs, telephones, and signals—on a war basis. This message was just going out by wireless, when I was called to the White House, where I found the Secretary of War, who had likewise been summoned.

The President was concerned about the safety of Government property. There was enough cause for this anxiety, for there were thousands of aliens who could not be interned legally unless or until war was declared. Among them were hostile Germans who would resort to almost any violence to vent their resentment or to cripple this Government in its manifold preparations for war.

Navy yards and army posts were closed, and orders sent to every naval and military plant in the United States, Porto Rico, the Virgin Islands, Hawaii, Alaska, Guam and the Philippines, to exclude all visitors and strengthen the guards. The guards in the Panama Canal Zone were doubled, and special precautions were taken to protect the canal.

To prevent information from reaching Germans, we stopped publishing the movements of naval vessels and the daily orders to naval officers. Since the outbreak of the war in Europe we had maintained along the coast a number of naval vessels to enforce neutrality regulations. Now this force was increased, and a virtual coast patrol established.

That night I sent out the order, "Alnav availability," which directed all vessels to report their actual readiness for war.

The President kept in close touch with all our preparations. Not satisfied with general reports, he wanted to know just what was being done. Monday afternoon, while I was hard at work with officers on plans and orders, Mr. Wilson suddenly appeared in my office. Glad as I was to see him, his visit was a surprise. Documents concerning a number of the matters we were working upon were on my desk, and in a few moments I reviewed in detail the plans, told him what we had done and were doing, and asked his directions as to certain operations.

Then he suggested that we go to the War Department, to talk matters over with the Secretary of War. Mr. Baker was in his office and the three of us held a long conference, discussing the situation in all its phases. Some things the President said to us are indelibly impressed on my memory.

The breach in diplomatic relations, he pointed out, did not necessarily mean war, but it brought us so close to the possibility that we must put our house in order, and be ready for any emergency.

Men concerned him quite as much as measures, and he inquired particularly about the officers in important positions and commands. If there were any who did not seem equal to the tremendous tasks they would be called upon to perform, he wanted them replaced. If abler men were available, he wished us to secure them.

"Each of you must surround yourself with the ablest men you have," he said. Turning to me, he asked whether I felt that my immediate advisers, those in the Navy Department and in command afloat, were the men to retain in those positions.

"They are the best men in the Navy," I replied.

He asked the same question of the Secretary of War. Mr. Baker told him that the officers in responsible positions in the War Department and the Army knew their jobs and were going ahead earnestly with them. Some were necessarily slated for early retirement, but to anticipate this, he thought, would be unwise, as it might occasion needless alarm and disturb morale.

The President listened intently to us. When we finished, he again impressed upon us that only the ablest, most alert and energetic officers should be put in places of responsibility.

"Get and keep the best," he said as our conference ended.

Mr. Wilson had no sympathy with the fear of hurting some man's "feelings," which, he said, is the rock upon which efficient public service often goes to pieces. The big job called for the big man, and no personal consideration had any weight with him in getting the thing done, and done in the best way. "Get and keep the best," without regard to friendship, past performance, prestige, social or political pull, guided the President in his entire conduct of the war. It was that policy which enabled American power to be thrown into the scales so quickly and decisively.

It is gratifying to recall that under the rigid test of war, every responsible officer in the Navy Department measured up to his full duty. Not one failed to meet the requirements of his position. No change whatever was required. Franklin D. Roosevelt was Assistant Secretary of the Navy, Admiral William S. Benson was Chief of Naval Operations, Rear Admiral Charles J. Badger head of the General Board. The bureau chiefs were: Rear Admirals Robert S. Griffin, Engineering; David W. Taylor, Construction and Repair; Ralph Earle, Ordnance; Leigh C. Palmer, Navigation; Samuel McGowan, Supplies and Accounts; William C. Braisted, Medicine and Surgery; F. R. Harris, Yards and Docks. Captain W. C. Watts was Judge Advocate General, and Major General George Barnett, Commandant of the Marine Corps. When Admiral Harris resigned in December, 1917, to become head of the U. S. Emergency Fleet Corporation, he was succeeded as Chief of the Bureau of Yards and Docks by Rear Admiral Charles W. Parks. Captain Watts, requesting sea duty in March, 1918, was succeeded by Rear Admiral George R. Clark as Judge Advocate General. Thus, practically all those who were in office when war began served to its end. And no men ever did better service. Able and energetic, they worked together with a harmony and efficiency never excelled.

U-boat warfare being aimed directly at shipping, our own as well as that of other nations, the protection of American merchantmen was of prime importance. As the President was announcing the severance of relations with Germany, February 3d, the steamer Housatonic was sunk in European waters, and on February 12th, the schooner Lyman M. Law was sent down by the Germans.

Though he considered that under the general powers of the Executive he had the authority to arm merchant vessels for protection, the President desired, before taking such an important step, which must almost inevitably result in gunfire engagements with U-boats, to ask the support of Congress. Before that time, at a cabinet meeting at which this matter was discussed, the President turned to me and asked:

"Daniels, has the Navy the guns and gunners for this job?"

"We can arm them as fast as the ships are ready," I replied.

On February 26th, in an address to the two houses, President Wilson requested that Congress authorize him to "supply our merchant ships with defensive arms, should that become necessary, and with the means of using them, and to employ any other instrumentalities or methods that may be necessary and adequate to protect our ships and our people in their legitimate and peaceful pursuits on the seas." A bill to this effect, introduced at once, promptly passed the House by a large majority, but failed in the Senate by reason of a filibuster conducted by a handful of Senators who by continual debate prevented the bill from coming to a vote before the end of that Congress on March 4th.

It was this filibuster that called forth the President's denunciation of the "little group of willful men" who had, with reckless disregard of the country's needs, prevented important legislation, and his suggestion that the rules of the Senate be changed so as to make impossible any such occurrence in the future. Before adjournment a large majority of the senators signed a document stating that they favored the bill to arm American merchantmen, and would have voted for it, had they been given the opportunity.

Confident that he had the power under the Constitution, and a large majority of Congress having expressed its willingness to grant him specific authority, the President on March 12 directed me to furnish guns and naval gunners to American ships. Guns and men were ready, and the work of arming merchantmen began immediately. In two days guns were installed on the Manchuria, St. Louis and Aztec, and four days later the New York and St. Paul were equipped. The Manchuria sailed for England March 15, and thereafter a constant succession of merchant ships carrying armed guards left our ports for Europe.

The day after Bernstorff was dismissed the General Board had submitted the following specific steps to be taken in case of conflict with Germany:

G. B. No. 425. Confidential. Serial No. 666.

February 4, 1917.

From: Senior member present.

To: Secretary of the Navy.

Subject: Steps to be taken to meet a possible condition of war with the Central European Powers.

On account of existing conditions, the General Board recommends that the following steps be taken to meet a possible condition of war with the Central European Powers:

1. Complete complements and allowances of all kinds, first of the A and B fleet, then of the C fleet, and naval districts.

2. Mobilize the A fleet in the Lower Chesapeake, and increase it immediately to the B fleet. (See Black Plan.)

3. Dock and repair all ships in reserve and ordinary that will be used.

4. Arrange for the supply of fuel to the fleet and stock all fuel depots to capacity.

5. Establish additional recruiting stations and increase personnel of the Navy and Marine Corps to the total number required to supply complements for all the ships built, building, and authorized, and to maintain shore establishments and naval defense districts, including aviation service, with 10 per cent additional for casualties as follows: Enlisted force—Navy, 150,000; Marines, 30,000; officers in the proportion prescribed by law.

6. Mobilize the naval districts, including the Coast Guard and Lighthouse services, and put patrol vessels, mine sweepers, etc., of the Atlantic coast districts, on their stations; no commercial vessels to be mobilized in the Pacific coast districts at present.

7. Prepare to the utmost detail for the employment of mines along our coast as may be necessary.

8. Prepare nets and other obstruction for submarines, ready for immediate use, at the Chesapeake Capes, Delaware Capes, entrance to New York Bay, eastern entrance to Long Island Sound, Narragansett Bay, Panama Canal, and Guantanamo. Other places as their need becomes apparent. The General Board considers it of the utmost importance that net protection shall be immediately provided for the fleet during its mobilization in Chesapeake Bay.

9. Establish immediately the guards at all navy yards, magazines, radio stations, powder factories, munition plants, bases, shipbuilding yards, and naval shore utilities in accordance with the mobilization plans.

10. Reduce the force of Marines in Haiti and Santo Domingo to the smallest number that can maintain order there, transferring these men to the United States to perform necessary guard duty at navy yards, magazines, radio stations, shipbuilding plants, and to form cadres for the organization of new regiments as recruits are obtained. Organize the advanced base force and complete its equipment.

11. Leave in the Caribbean a sufficient number of light cruisers to keep a lookout for submarines in those waters and for the protection of our interests there. Protect the Canal and Guantanamo as far as possible, by the use of mines and where possible by monitors, submarines and nets.

12. For the present use the greater part of the destroyer flotillas as patrol for submarines in the vicinity of the principal ports or entrances leading to them.

13. Base the submarines at Canal, Guantanamo, and points along the coast in accordance with the Black Plan.

14. Rush to completion all naval vessels building or authorized; also build up the Aviation Service as rapidly as possible.

15. Guard all bays and harbors on the coast of Maine to prevent their use as bases of supply. Patrol waters of Haiti, Santo Domingo, Porto Rico, and Danish West Indies, the Cuban Coast Guard Service to assist in patrolling all bays and gulfs of the coast of Cuba.

16. Prepare to close entrances to all ports at night and discontinue or change such aids to navigation as may be necessary.

17. Organize a comprehensive system of intelligence service covering the whole theater of war in accordance with the plans of the Office of Naval Intelligence.

18. Take possession of all interned vessels of war of Central Powers; also take control of all commercial vessels of Central Powers now in United States waters.

19. Place under surveillance all citizens of the Central Powers in the Navy or in Government employ in naval establishments, and remove them from positions in which they may do possible harm.

20. Arm our merchant ships for purposes of defense.

21. In accordance with Black Plan, carry out the following:

(a) Issue proclamation prescribing defensive sea areas and put rules in regard to them in force.

(b) Issue proclamation prescribing press regulations and establishing censorship of cable and radio, including naval control of all commercial and private radio stations.

(c) Issue President's order in regard to visit and search, capture, etc.

22. And as most important, arrange, as soon as possible, plans of coöperation with the naval forces of the Allies for the joint protection of trans-Atlantic commerce and for offensive naval operations against the common enemy.

Chas. J. Badger.

General war plans, as I have stated, had been developed years before under the direction of Admiral Dewey. Among these was the "Black Plan" designated for "war in the Atlantic," really for war with Germany. Revised from time to time as the progress of the European conflict suggested changes, this was constantly kept up to date, and covered thoroughly general policies and operations. The recommendations of February 4th and various others submitted later were for specific things to be done in consonance with the general scheme.

A week after the break with Germany, I sent the following to the General Board:

February 10, 1917.

To: The General Board.

Subject: Solution of Problem.

1. The Department desires the General Board to consider the following problem and submit its solution as soon as practicable:

Problem

General situation—Conditions as at present except that war with Germany is declared.

Special situation—The Allies do not desire our battleship force at present.

Required—Naval estimate of the situation: first, as to the grand strategy demanded by the situation; second, as to the disposition of the battleship force; third, as to the method of assisting in maintaining communications with Europe, including scheme for coöperation with Allies; fourth, as to method of driving submarines from the sea.

Assume—Mobilization of all naval vessels and possibility of mobilizing merchant vessels as required.

Josephus Daniels.

Anti-submarine warfare, coöperation with the Allies, was the keynote of all our plans, as of this "problem," the solution of which the General Board submitted on February 17. We were then, as always, planning "for the joint protection of trans-Atlantic commerce," as the Board expressed it, "and for offensive naval operations against the common enemy."

CHAPTER IV
THE DAY OF DECISION

MOST IMPORTANT CABINET MEETING OF WILSON ADMINISTRATION HELD MARCH 20, 1917, WHEN IT WAS DECIDED TO CALL CONGRESS IN SPECIAL SESSION TO DECLARE WAR—"I WANT TO DO RIGHT, WHETHER IT IS POPULAR OR NOT," SAID THE PRESIDENT—FLEET ORDERED NORTH—NAVY AND MARINE CORPS INCREASED TO EMERGENCY STRENGTH.

Tuesday, March 20, 1917, is not fixed in the war chronologies, so far as I can find. But it should be, for that was the Day of Decision. That was the occasion of the most important Cabinet meeting of the Wilson administration, in fact without doubt the most important of our generation.

Eleven days earlier the President had called Congress to meet in special session April 16th, "to receive such communication as may be made by the Executive." But events were moving rapidly. Four American vessels had been sunk without warning—the Algonquin, City of Memphis, Illinois, and Vigilancia—with the loss of American lives. German U-boats were destroying shipping by the hundred thousand tons. We had been arming merchant vessels, but it was evident that this "armed neutrality" in itself was insufficient, valuable as it was.

The "overt act" had occurred. The Germans were sinking our ships, killing our citizens on the high seas. There were matters of vital importance to be discussed when the Cabinet met. Congress had already been summoned to meet within a month. But every day counted.

Should the special session be called at an earlier date? What message should be sent to Congress in view of the situation? These were the questions propounded by the President, who was grave, feeling the deep sense of responsibility. He wished every member of the Cabinet to state his conviction of the national duty, he told us, and each spoke from his standpoint.

I have often wished that it might have been possible to preserve a record of Cabinet meetings, particularly in the months preceding and during the war. If the American people could have seen the President and heard him as he spoke to us on March 20th, they would have felt a confidence and admiration which nothing else could have imparted. I do not feel at liberty to give from memory what he said, or the statements of the ten members of the Cabinet. His severest critics have praised President Wilson's power to express national sentiment and set forth problems and solutions in living sentences in his public addresses. That power was even more markedly displayed in the bosom of his official family.

That day he began by sketching the steps this country had taken to protect American lives. He was disinclined to the final break. As he so often did in laying weighty matters before the cabinet, Mr. Wilson clearly stated the events culminating in repeated sinking of American ships by German submarines, and then, with a sort of seeming detachment, invited the views of the Cabinet.

It was a supreme moment. Some of us, fully in harmony with the President's patient and long successful efforts to protect American rights by peaceful means, had at last, like himself, lost hope of world and national safety without resort to war. Others, approving of steps taken, had earlier wished entrance into the struggle. It is interesting, even when the matter is not one greater than life and death, as was this determination, to observe how ten men with the same objective will differ in the presentation of their views or the reasons which prompt their conclusions. No two of the Cabinet on that day gave expression to precisely the same reasons, or rather, I should say, aside from the impelling reason, each had been influenced by some incident or argument he presented. But all were convinced that the character of the warfare being waged by the Central Powers could no longer be tolerated and that no course was open but for America to throw the weight of its great power into the scales against Germany.

After all had advised that Congress be called in session as early as practicable, one member read a number of telegrams conveying the impression that popular opinion was strongly in favor of our early entrance into the war.

"We are not governed by public opinion in our conclusion," said the President. "I want to do right whether it is popular or not."

The next morning the proclamation was issued summoning Congress to meet April 2, "to receive a communication by the Executive on grave questions of national policy which should be taken under consideration."

War was only a matter of days. Under the conditions, the place for the fleet was in home waters. When I returned to the Department after the Cabinet meeting, orders were sent to Admiral Mayo to bring the fleet north at once. Some smaller vessels were left in the Caribbean to protect tankers coming from Mexico and Texas. Though the day previous I had asked the General Board to consider carefully whether everything possible was being done for the protection of our ships entering the proscribed area, that afternoon, accompanied by Admiral Benson, I attended a meeting of the Board, informing its members that the President wished them to outline every measure that the Navy could employ for protection of American shipping entering European ports, beyond the provision of armed guards which we had already undertaken. I told the Board that we desired the fullest and most ample protection, regardless of effort or expense.

Replying immediately, the Board recommended:

Escort vessels to deep water from our ports, and similarly from deep water to our ports.

Arrange with British and French Governments for the convoy of our ships through the barred zones.

Merchant ships to proceed on high seas from points of leaving and receiving escorts, depending upon their guns for protection and upon changes of course to follow alternate routes.

Arrange with British and French Governments a code of signals to be used in directing merchant ships as to routes to be followed and points of meeting escorts.

Establish a patrol of the Atlantic coast.

Recruit up to the limit allowed by law for emergencies in order to provide crews for patrols and auxiliaries, and fill battleship complements which have been depleted to supply gun crews to merchant ships.

© Harris & Ewing

PRESIDENT WILSON AND THE WAR CABINET

Around the table, from left to right: the President, Secretary of the Treasury McAdoo, Attorney General Gregory, Secretary of the Navy Daniels, Secretary of Agriculture Houston, Secretary of Labor Wilson, Secretary of Commerce Redfield, Secretary of the Interior Lane, Postmaster General Burleson, Secretary of War Baker, Secretary of State Lansing (in light suit).

AMERICAN DREADNOUGHTS, THE EMBODIMENT OF SEA POWER

At the next meeting of the Cabinet, on Friday, I presented the authority granted by Congress to increase the enlisted strength of the Navy to 87,000, and the President directed me to fill up the Navy and Marine Corps to the full number authorized in case of national emergency.

On Saturday afternoon the President called at the Navy Department. Mrs. Wilson came with him. The rapid approach of war weighed upon him, and he wished to keep in close touch with all military preparations. It was then that I brought up the matter of sending to London a naval officer of high rank, which resulted, a few days later, in the sending of Admiral Sims.

I also informed him of the result of the important conference we had held that morning with shipbuilders to secure rapid construction of additional destroyers. Before that time we had always insisted upon and been able to secure "fixed price" contracts, under which it could be known precisely what a vessel would cost, the builders being under bond to deliver it to us at the price agreed upon. But this was no longer possible. With the rising cost of labor and materials, the builders were unwilling to name specific figures. Reluctantly, I agreed to a contract based on actual cost of construction with ten per cent profit. Destroyers were sorely needed, we wanted all the shipyards could build, and expedition was worth all it might cost. As a matter of fact, no other construction during the war was accomplished with so little increased cost.

That night the President signed the order directing that the authorized enlisted strength of the Navy be increased to 87,000 men, and the next day I sent a telegram to the newspapers of the country, more than a thousand of them, asking them to print the order on the first page and also make an editorial appeal for recruits, saying:

New ships and ships in reserve are being fully commissioned as rapidly as possible, and the need is imperative for a larger enlistment to man them. There has been a net increase of over 6,500 in enlistment since Congress recently authorized an increase, but many more are needed and needed now.

This appeared in nearly every paper in the United States, and most of them accompanied it with an editorial. It was an example of the fine spirit of coöperation and patriotism shown by the American press during the entire war. Every recruiting station was telegraphed to increase the force and to engage doctors to examine applicants, so there would be no delay. Within a few hours after the President signed the order to increase the Navy, the recruiting campaign was under way in every part of the Union.

Thursday afternoon at 4:30 o'clock, as I was holding the daily interview with the press, President Wilson, unannounced, came into the Navy Department. It was several minutes before I knew he was there. There had been a rapid fire of interrogations and answers between the Secretary and the correspondents when an officer came to my desk and said, "The President is here." He was sitting quietly at the other end of the big room, listening to the cross-examination which a cabinet officer undergoes at the hands of press representatives twice every day. And they always ask "searching questions." As soon as the newspaper men knew the President was in the room, they lost all interest in me and I asked to be excused from further questioning.

"Do you have to undergo that ordeal every day?" Mr. Wilson asked.

"Yes, twice every day," was my reply; "but it is not usually an ordeal. Being a newspaper man myself, I recall that most of my life has been spent in doing to other public officers what those reporters are doing to me—and, besides, I rather like it."

What to do with the interned German ships was still a puzzling and undecided question, and that was one of the matters that Mr. Wilson had come to discuss.

"We must keep in close touch," he said, as he opened the conversation. He spoke of the submarine situation and the interned ships, and then showed me a letter from a man of importance to the effect that an Austrian had arrived in the United States on a submarine, had called upon the Austrian Consul at New York, and given him important papers which had been brought from Europe in the undersea boat. He understood that two submarines had come over from Germany, the writer said.

While this seemed improbable, a telegram was sent in code to all naval commanders and stations to be on the lookout. That night a message was received from the Commandant of the New York district that two submarines had been sighted off Montauk Point. Destroyers and motor boats were sent there to search the vicinity.

This proved to be a "false alarm," as did so many reports which were sent forth with every particularity in that early period. But we had to investigate all that seemed possible, for we could not afford to take any chances of surprise attacks.

CHAPTER V
SENDING SIMS TO EUROPE

COÖPERATION WITH ALLIES THE KEYNOTE OF OUR POLICY—ADMIRAL WILSON FIRST CHOSEN—SIMS' MISSION AND INSTRUCTIONS—SAILED AS "S. W. DAVIDSON," PRIVATE CITIZEN—BRITISH HAD NO PLANS THAT PROMISED SUCCESS, LORD JELLICOE TOLD HIM—CARSON PRAISED AMERICA'S "SPEEDY ACTION."

The most important thing, perhaps, that I discussed with the President when he visited the Navy Department March 24th was sending to London an officer of high rank who would put us in more intimate touch with the British Admiralty.

The text of that discussion was the following cablegram just received from the American Ambassador:

London, March 23, 1917, 7 p. m.

Secretary of State,

Washington.

Mr. Balfour has shown me the informal suggestion conveyed by the Navy Department through Gaunt [British naval attaché on duty in Washington] regarding closer relations and his reply. The British Government will heartily fall in with any plan we propose as soon as coöperation can be formally established. It was intimated to me that a submarine base on the coast of Ireland would then be assented to.

The whole subject of active coöperation and the best methods to bring it about have been informally discussed by me with Mr. Balfour, Mr. Bonar Law, the Prime Minister, Admiral Jellicoe, and others at their invitation, and they will most gladly assent to any proposals that we are likely to make. They withhold proposals of their own until the way has formally been opened by us lest they should seem to push themselves upon us, which they, of course, do not wish to do.

I know personally and informally that they hope for the establishment of full and frank naval interchange of information and coöperation. Knowing their spirit and their methods, I can not too strongly recommend that our government send here immediately an admiral of our own navy who will bring our navy's plans and inquiries. The coming of such an officer of high rank would be regarded as a compliment and he would have all doors opened to him and a sort of special staff appointed to give him the results and methods of the whole British naval work since the war began. Every important ally has an officer of such high rank here. In a private conversation with me today at luncheon Mr. Balfour expressed his enthusiastic hope that such a plan would be immediately carried out. Many things of the greatest value would be verbally made known to such an officer which would never be given in a routine way nor reduced to writing.

Admiral Jellicoe has privately expressed the hope to me that our navy may see its way to patrol our coast and possibly relieve the British cruisers now on our side of the Atlantic. He hopes too that in case more German raiders go out we may help capture them in waters where they prey on shipping from Mexico or South America.

If our Navy Department will send an admiral it would be advantageous for me to be informed as soon as possible. The confidential information that he will come by would be of immediate help. Such an officer could further definite plans for full coöperation.

Page.

We had presented the proposition informally through the British naval attaché, as the Ambassador pointed out. Captain McDougall, our naval attaché in London, was given access to all records which were not confidential, and his intimate association with the officers of the Admiralty enabled him to keep the Navy Department in constant touch with the situation and to give us data bearing on many phases of naval effort. But there were, of course, many things kept secret, unrevealed to any neutral. Our break with Germany brought about new conditions, and made possible a more intimate exchange of views between the American and British navies. Ruthless U-boat warfare begun only a few weeks before, the Germans sinking shipping by the million tons, and the British naturally concealing their losses and their plans, made it important for us to secure the fullest information as to the exact situation, and what steps were being taken to meet it. And in case war was declared, to have in London an admiral to aid the Department in putting into immediate effect the coöperation with the Allies which we were planning.

That Saturday afternoon I discussed Ambassador Page's cablegram and the whole matter with the President, and he approved the plan. Then the question arose as to what officer should be selected for this important mission. The choice was Admiral Henry B. Wilson, later commander-in-chief of the Atlantic Fleet, then commanding the battleship Pennsylvania. But we were creating a strong patrol force and Admiral Wilson was regarded as the best man to organize and command it.

Admiral Jellicoe was, as Ambassador Page said, particularly anxious that our Navy might "see its way to patrol our coast and possibly relieve the British cruisers now on our side of the Atlantic," and also, in case more German raiders got out, as was feared, to "help capture them in waters where they prey on shipping from Mexico or South America." This was in line with the policy we had already adopted. Formally organized on March 28, Admiral Wilson was put in command of this force, which accomplished just what Admiral Jellicoe then suggested, and what was one of the first requests made, after war was declared, by Admirals Browning and Grasset.

The Germans, naval officers pointed out, might well conclude as soon as we declared war to send submarines across the Atlantic to attack shipping and cut down the flow of munitions and supplies to Europe. One or two operating in the Gulf might interrupt the shipment of oil from Mexican fields, the largest source of supply for the British Fleet. A strong patrol force would not only protect all shipping on this side of the ocean, but, well organized and equipped, would be ready when called upon, to operate in European waters, as it did later on. So, it was determined to assign Wilson to that duty and Admiral William S. Sims was then chosen for the London mission.

On Monday, March 26, I telegraphed him to come to Washington. He arrived on the 28th and came to the Navy Department in the afternoon. Referring to Mr. Page's telegram, I told him the President had decided to send an admiral to England, and he had been selected. Informing him, in confidence, of our belief that the time was near at hand when the United States would enter the war, I told him that, in that event, we must prepare for the fullest coöperation with the British Navy. But his immediate duty, I pointed out, was to secure all possible information as to what the British were doing, and what plans they had for more effective warfare against the submarines.

In the course of the conversation, I said: "You have been selected for this mission not because of your Guildhall speech, but in spite of it." In that speech Sims had said, "If the time ever comes when the British Empire is seriously menaced by an external enemy, it is my opinion that you may count upon every man, every dollar, every drop of blood of your kindred across the sea." Impressing upon him the fact that the United States was still neutral, and that until Congress should declare war his mission must be a secret and confidential one, I informed him that it had been decided not to issue written orders detaching him from his duties at Newport, but for him to go quietly as a civilian passenger, and report to Ambassador Page personally before any public announcement was made.

Among the matters discussed was the extent of the sinkings by submarines. Ambassador Page had written me confidentially that the situation was more serious than the British admitted. I told Admiral Sims that the President believed the British had not taken the necessary vigorous offensive to prevent destruction of shipping by the U-boats and that he strongly believed two things ought to be done:

First, that every effort should be made to prevent the submarines getting into the Atlantic—that they ought to be shut up in their own coasts, or some method should be found to prevent their ingress and egress.

Second, that all ships ought to be convoyed. The President had been of this opinion for a long time, and had insisted that it was essential to give protection to shipping. The General Board had strongly recommended convoy, and I favored it. But, as I told Admiral Sims, I had taken this matter up with naval officers in the Department, and there was division of opinion, most of them seeming to agree with the British Admiralty, which apparently opposed the convoy system. It had not been adopted abroad.

Admiral Sims seemed pleased with his mission and instructions. And the only official instructions he received were those I gave him. But, someone may ask about the sensational statement in his letter that he was given the explicit admonition, "Don't let the British pull the wool over your eyes. It is none of our business pulling their chestnuts out of the fire. We would as soon fight the British as the Germans."

I never heard of that until I read it in Sims' letter of January 7, 1920. Later, testifying before the Senate investigating Committee he stated that the remark was made by Benson, who afterwards in Paris made a similar statement. "I will admit that I had completely forgotten the incident," said Sims in regard to the latter. "It was recalled to me by a member of my staff who was present, and who heard it. I think that the reason I did not remember that distinctly was because I regarded it as a personal idiosyncrasy of the Admiral. I had known the general opinion that he was intensely anti-British, but it did not affect me particularly."

"I have always had the best possible personal relations with Admiral Benson," he continued. "I regard him as an upstanding and honest man who has exceedingly strong convictions and who is very firm in adherence to those convictions. I believe everything he has done during the war has been done conscientiously, and to get along with the war."

Benson said he could not recall just what was said; that he strongly approved Sims' selection, but probably used "very forcible language" in impressing upon him the seriousness of the situation and the importance of being very careful that "his feelings toward the British did not lead him into any indiscretion." He denied strongly that his words could be interpreted to mean anything else.

In view of these statements and the known fact that Admiral Benson and everybody else in our navy earnestly coöperated with the British, and that Benson had a large part in arranging this coöperation before Sims reached London, I think there is no occasion for any further allusion to the remark.

On the last day of March, a week before war was declared, Admiral Sims and his aide, Commander J. V. Babcock, boarded the steamship New York, entered upon the passenger list as "S. W. Davidson" and "V. J. Richardson." Their fellow voyagers had no idea that "Mr. Davidson" was an admiral of the United States Navy going abroad on an important mission, and "Mr. Richardson" was his aide.

Reaching Liverpool April 9th, after an uneventful voyage, the New York, as it approached the outer harbor, struck a mine. Though the ship was not damaged beyond repair, it was crippled, and the passengers were transferred to another vessel and taken ashore. At the dock the American officers were welcomed by Rear Admiral Hope, and they found that a special train, provided by the Admiralty, was waiting to take them to London. Admiral Sims on arrival there at once conferred with Ambassador Page and the British naval authorities, and was admitted to the confidence of the Admiralty.

Since his departure from America, there had been a radical change in the situation. The United States had declared war against Germany, and we were free to deal with the Allies as associates in the great conflict. While Sims was having his first interview with the authorities in London, we were in conference at Washington with the ranking British and French admirals in the Western Atlantic. In fact a working agreement was perfected, and orders had been issued to send destroyers to Europe before we received Sims' first dispatch. Thus Sims in London and our authorities in Washington carried out with the utmost cordiality that splendid coöperation between the British and American navies which continued throughout the war and which has hardly a parallel in naval history.

In his first cablegram from London, April 14, 1917, Sims reported:

The submarine issue is very much more serious than the people realize in America. The recent success of operations and the rapidity of construction constitute the real crisis of the war. The morale of the enemy submarines is not broken, only about fifty-four are known to have been captured or sunk and no voluntary surrenders have been recorded. ***

Supplies and communications of forces on all fronts, including the Russians, are threatened and control of the sea actually imperilled.

German submarines are constantly extending their operations into the Atlantic, increasing areas and the difficulty of patrolling. Russian situation critical. Baltic fleet mutiny, eighty-five admirals, captains, and commanders murdered, and in some armies there is insubordination.

The amount of British, neutral and Allied shipping lost in February was 536,000 tons, in March 571,000 tons, and in the first ten days of April 205,000 tons. With short nights and better weather these losses are increasing.

The Germans, he said, had seventy mine-laying submarines, and were building new ones at a rate approaching three a week.

What were the British doing to meet this perilous situation? What plans did they have to defeat the U-boats? That was what we particularly wanted to know, and were surprised when it was not stated in that dispatch.

Describing his first interview with Lord Jellicoe, Admiral Sims says, in his book, published three years later:

"It looks as though the Germans were winning the war," I remarked.

"They will win, unless we can stop these losses—and stop them soon," the Admiral replied.

"Is there no solution for the problem?" I asked.

"Absolutely none that we can see now," Jellicoe announced.

What the British were doing in regard to protecting ships was set forth clearly in Sims' letter of April 19, in which he said:

After trying various methods of controlling shipping, the Admiralty now believes the best policy to be one of dispersion. They use about six relatively large avenues or arcs of approach to the United Kingdom and Channels, changing their limits or area periodically if necessity demands.

There was considerable criticism of the Admiralty, he said, "for not taking more effective steps," and one of the principal demands was for "convoys of merchant shipping, and more definite and real protection within the war zone." But not only officers but ship owners and captains opposed convoy, favoring the arming of merchant vessels and independent sailings, he informed us, saying:

The Admiralty has had frequent conferences with merchant masters and sought their advice. Their most unanimous demand is: "Give us a gun and let us look out for ourselves." They are also insistent that it is impracticable for merchant vessels to proceed in formation, at least in any considerable numbers, due principally to difficulty in controlling their speed and to the inexperience of their subordinate officers. With this view I do not personally agree but believe that with a little experience merchant vessels could safely and sufficiently well steam in open formations.

In this Sims was right, as was shown when, later, convoy was adopted. The system President Wilson had long advocated, which shipping interests and many naval officers had opposed, proved not only practicable, but a very effective measure.

Urging that the maximum number of destroyers and anti-submarine craft be sent to Europe, Sims in his first cablegram informed us:

It is very likely the enemy will make submarine mine-laying raids on our coasts or in the Caribbean to divert attention and to keep our forces from the critical areas in the Eastern Atlantic through effect upon public opinion.

We had to expect this and to provide against it; and at the same time extend all possible aid to our Allies in Europe. Destroyers had already been ordered abroad, the first arriving May 4, and others were sent over in rapid succession.

Was this quick response? The English so considered it. Sir Edward Carson, First Civil Lord of the Admiralty, called it "speedy action" when he said in his address to the British Navy League on May 17:

"The toast that I have to propose is that of the American Navy. I give it to you from the bottom of my heart. The date of this particular function is very opportune. It almost coincides with the arrival in our seas of the first installment of the assistance which the American Navy is going to give us in the terrible task that is before us. It enables us who are members of our Navy League, and it enables me as for the moment presiding over the great service of the Admiralty in this country, to express and demonstrate our appreciation of the speedy action of the American Navy and to offer a hearty welcome to the officers and men who have reached our shores. ***

I don't underestimate the submarine menace. It is a great, a novel, and a terrible menace. It is a menace that has been unsolved by any navy—our own navy, the German navy, the Austrian navy, the Italian navy, or the American navy. But don't imagine you will solve it by abuse or funk. No, the way to look upon it is that it is a real danger, and it is the work of men to face and solve real dangers."

The problem being still unsolved, it was up to our Navy to devise some plan that might solve it. And we did propose, nine days after this country entered the war, the biggest project that was put into effect—mine barrages to shut in the U-boats, preventing their egress into the Atlantic. On April 15 our Bureau of Ordnance presented plans for mine barriers across the North Sea and the English Channel. On April 17, I cabled Sims to report on the practicability of blocking the German coast, to prevent submarines from getting out from their bases. He replied that this had been tried and found "unfeasible," and said:

To the best of my knowledge and experience we should adopt present British methods and base further developments only upon actual experience in coöperation with them.

That the barrage was unfeasible was the opinion of the Admiralty officers, but it was not the view of the Prime Minister, Lloyd George, who like President Wilson and our own ordnance officers, did not regard it as impossible, for Sims in his mail report to us April 19th said:

The Prime Minister only two days ago expressed to me the opinion that it ought to be possible to find physical means of absolutely sealing up all escape for submarines from their own ports. The fact that all such methods (nets, mines, obstructions, etc.) inherently involve the added necessity of continuous protection and maintenance by our naval forces is seldom understood and appreciated. I finally convinced the Prime Minister of the fallacy of such propositions by describing the situations into which we would be led: namely, that in order to maintain our obstructions we would have to match the forces the enemy brought against them until finally the majority if not all of our own forces would be forced into dangerous areas where they would be subject to continual torpedo and other attack, in fact in a position most favorable to the enemy.

But the naval administration at Washington had faith in that idea, and urged it again and again, until it was adopted, and the vast barrage was laid across the North Sea.

CHAPTER VI
NAVAL ALLIES IN HISTORIC CONFERENCE

FOUR DAYS AFTER WAR WAS DECLARED, BRITISH, FRENCH AND AMERICAN ADMIRALS MET AT FORTRESS MONROE TO MAP OUT PLANS FOR IMMEDIATE COÖPERATION—CONFERENCE AT WASHINGTON, APRIL 11TH, FIXED THE POLICY OF UNITED NAVAL EFFORT—FREQUENT AND FULL INTERCHANGE OF OPINION WITH ALLIES.

Four days after war was declared, admirals of the United States, Great Britain and France were in conference at Fortress Monroe. Immediately upon the action of Congress, without awaiting the arrival of Admiral Sims, then on the ocean bound for London, arrangements were made to confer with the commanders-in-chief of the British and French forces on this side of the Atlantic, who were familiar with conditions overseas as well as on this coast. When they arrived Admiral Benson asked: "Where can our Navy render the best immediate service?"

Then these sea fighters sat down to an all-day session to find the best answer to Benson's question. The Allied admirals, who had been in the war from the beginning, told what had been attempted, what achieved, and the ways wherein they hoped America could come to the rescue.

Hampton Roads was the site of a historic conference, between Abraham Lincoln and Alexander H. Stephens and others in 1865, when there was hope that the War between the States might be brought to an end. That conference failed, but this of April 10, 1917, was a pronounced success; for it was followed the next day by the conference at the Navy Department in Washington, which laid the foundations for the perfect coöperation in the war with Allied governments, the first agreement the United States Navy ever made with foreign naval officials to wage war together. At the time even the fact that it was held was secret, and its conclusions were sent abroad only in code. For secrecy was necessary in regard to this as well as other plans and operations.

Since 1914 both the British and French navies had maintained their ships in the Western Atlantic from Halifax to Southern waters. Vice Admiral Browning and Rear Admiral Grasset, in command of the British and French forces, respectively, were at Bermuda when war was declared and came at once to Hampton Roads. Admiral Benson, Chief of Naval Operations, accompanied by Admiral Mayo, Commander-in-Chief of the fleet, went from Washington on the President's yacht, the Sylph, and were joined by Admiral Wilson, in command of the United States Patrol Force. In sight of the spot where the Monitor and the Merrimac met in their epoch-making fight over half a century before, these admirals exchanged views regarding the naval conduct of the war. Admiral Browning had been in command of a squadron in the North Sea, and acquainted the American officers with conditions abroad, and they in turn advised the visiting admirals of conditions here.

At the conclusion of this meeting, all these admirals came to Washington for a conference with the Secretary of the Navy. They sailed on the Sylph, and the unprecedented spectacle was witnessed of that little ship flying the flags of staff officers of three nations. It was symbolic of the unity which marked their joint operations during the war.

Upon their arrival, in addition to the admirals who had met them in Hampton Roads, I invited to confer with them the Assistant Secretary of the Navy, and the members of the General Board. "This conference," I stated when we had assembled in the rooms of the General Board, "has been called to consider and carry out without delay the best plans for the fullest coöperation of the navy of the United States with the allied navies, and to place every ounce of our naval strength into the struggle in the ways where it will do most to win victory."

Turning to the British and French representatives, I said that as their nations had been long in the war we desired to learn by their successes and be warned by their failures, if they had made any. The conference was a protracted one and discussed every phase of the naval situation. The British and French admirals told of their long and satisfactory talks with Benson, Mayo and Wilson, and stated that they were practically agreed as to the plans which they thought would best aid in the object all had in view. They made certain suggestions and the following arrangements were made by which, it was agreed, the United States could best throw its weight into the struggle:—

1. The United States Navy to take over the patrol of the Atlantic coast from Canada to South American waters. They explained the importance of that patrol and why they had felt it essential to preserve it since 1914. They gave three reasons for its continued maintenance: (a) protection of shipping for the Allied armies, including food for their civilian populations, and oil from Mexico for their fleets and armies; (b) protection against the coming of U-boats, which was deemed not only possible but probable; and (c) readiness to destroy German raiders. They told us that if we could take over this patrol it would serve the double purpose of protecting shipping on this coast and releasing their ships, which were needed at home.

At that time both here and abroad there was a general belief that German strategy would dictate the sending of U-boats to our coast. There was a fear too (and there were many reports), of possible submarine bases at out-of-the-way places on the Atlantic and Gulf. Indeed, from the beginning of the war in 1914 the Navy had been vigilant in sending craft into all places on our coast, from Canada to the Panama Canal, which might possibly enable U-boats to subsist in our waters. That conference agreed that this vigilance should be continued and made more effective, because it was thought the incentive to submarine activity on this side of the Atlantic would be stimulated by the desire to sink transports carrying American troops.

2. The United States to have in readiness squadrons to operate against any raider in either the North or South Atlantic. That was regarded as of great importance by the French and British conferees, and it was one of the chief duties of our Patrol Squadron. Speaking later of that, Admiral Badger, head of the General Board, said: "While a discussion of the general subject was had, the British and French admirals were particularly concerned as to the patrol of the east coast of North and South America, for which their forces were considered inadequate." The Chief of Naval Operations was directed, at this meeting, to strengthen the patrol force and to send it wherever it would render the quickest and best service against the enemy. It was later sent to Gibraltar, to protect the vast volume of shipping plying between the Mediterranean and Northern Europe. The Pacific fleet, under Admiral William B. Caperton, was later on duty on the coast of Brazil and other South American countries for the protection of Allied shipping in the South Atlantic.

3. Recognizing the accepted naval doctrine of all countries that destroyers should be provided for operation with every dreadnaught, the British and French admirals said they hesitated to request the detachment of any destroyer from the fleet. "Of course your fleet naturally would not be willing to part with or weaken the screen of destroyers," said Admiral Browning, but he expressed the hope that we might send at once one or two destroyers to Europe for the moral effect this would inspire, as well as their aid in combatting submarines. Though the commander-in-chief felt it would be taking desirable protection from his fleet, it was agreed immediately to send six. "We will send a division at once," I informed the British and French admirals, "and all other aid in our power." Admirals Benson and Mayo were then directed to issue the necessary orders for the destroyers to make ready for distant service. Later the number was increased, and by the end of May twenty-eight were at or on their way to Queenstown. In pursuance of the policy of the United States adopted at this conference, the American Navy continued to send destroyers, submarine chasers, yachts and other craft overseas until the number in Europe reached 373.

4. Our Navy agreed to look after the west coast of North America from Canadian to Colombian boundaries.

5. It was promised that United States armed government vessels would maintain continuous service to Chile, from which country America and the Allies obtained nitrates indispensable for the manufacture of munitions. All during the war there was fear that the steady flow of nitrates might be interrupted, and every effort was made to transport large quantities as rapidly as possible. It was gratifying when Admiral Browning reported that the British relations with Chile were "excellent." While our relations with that country were also cordial, scarcity of ships and hazards of transportation were such that the United States spent many millions to establish nitrate plants within its own borders.

6. It was agreed that our Asiatic fleet should be maintained. It operated in close coöperation with Allied fleets all during the war and they acted together when conditions in Russia became acute.

7. Our Navy undertook to supervise the Gulf of Mexico and Central American waters as far south as the Colombian boundary and as far east as Jamaica and the Virgin Islands. It was through this area that Allied navies transported their oil, chiefly from Tampico. The protection of tankers was always of prime importance and the patrol of those waters, begun before we entered the war, was carried on until its close, first under Admiral Wilson and afterwards by Admiral Anderson. The vigilance of this patrol was never relaxed.

8. Our Navy assumed the duty of sending submarines to Canadian waters, "if and when enemy submarines appeared off that coast."

9. The French Admiralty was assured that, as soon as possible, we would send patrol vessels to the French coast. This was done, our armed yachts sailing early in June for Brest.

10. We also undertook to send armed naval transports for carrying needed railway material to France, one immediately, and others as soon as possible.

After the conference adjourned, I suggested that the Chief of Operations and the French and British admirals perfect the details of coöperation agreed upon. They did so, and a cablegram was sent by these admirals to their governments setting forth the foregoing definite steps agreed upon for active participation by the United States with the naval forces of the Allies.

Many other conferences followed, some of them notable, with Allied officers and government officials who came to Washington for consultation. All the Allied nations sent naval officers to Washington, many of whom remained during the entire war for the specific duty of expediting coöperation with our Navy. Some of them had authority virtually to conclude arrangements. There was always frequent, frank exchange of views, and the same spirit of oneness existed on this as on the other side of the Atlantic.

The French mission, which came in April, 1917, headed by Marshal Joffre and Viviani, was a distinguished body, embracing soldiers and sailors who had seen hard service. Joffre, the beloved "hero of the Marne," was the commanding military figure, and Washington, accustomed as it was to celebrities, gave him a reception never excelled in its wild enthusiasm. Everybody fell in love with him. Unaffected, simple, charming, he was the embodiment of French courage and comradeship. Other representatives of foreign governments had pressed the need of money and ships; but Joffre said, "Send fresh soldiers. We can arm them, and they can be trained in France as well as here."

Marshal Joffre expressed more than once his admiration of the appearance of the ships and crews on the American warships which he visited. "It is evident from their appearance, they are ready, enthusiastically ready, and their spic and span appearance is in marked contrast to the grimness of the French naval vessels," he said upon the occasion of his visit to Mt. Vernon, where in his tribute to Washington he said the early coming of American troops to France "will tighten the links of affection and esteem which have ever united France and the United States."

With Joffre came Admiral Chocheprat of the French Navy. He was met at Hampton Roads by Assistant Secretary Franklin D. Roosevelt, and came to Washington for conference with naval officials, who obtained from him valuable information from the seat of war. This enabled our Navy to render better assistance in French waters and led to the opening of more French ports for the landing of American troops and the quicker turn-around of transports.

The British mission, which was headed by the distinguished Mr. Balfour, arrived on April 21st. Its members brought the inside story of conditions, particularly in the desperate fight against the submarine. They had been met at Halifax and welcomed on behalf of the Navy by Admiral Frank F. Fletcher, who accompanied them to Washington. Mr. Balfour had, until a short time before, been First Civil Lord of the Admiralty. With him as naval representative was Admiral Dudley S. de Chair. They emphasized the seriousness of the submarine sinkings, holding back nothing. American officials discussed the necessity of new naval offenses; attacking the German bases or constructing mine barrages to prevent egress and ingress of submarines and other plans to end the U-boat menace. As representative of the foremost sea power, the interchange of views between Admiral de Chair and our naval experts was most helpful. The Admiral was well pleased with the arrangements completed earlier in the month with Admiral Browning and with our broad plans and construction program.

Naval Allied coöperation was strengthened by conferences with the Prince of Udine, and the Italian mission; the Belgian mission headed by Baron Ludovic Moncheur; the Russian mission, whose naval representative was the ill-fated Admiral Kolchak; the Japanese mission, which included the able Vice Admiral Takeshita—all these and other special representatives who came from time to time or remained attached to their embassies in Washington. Later the British Admiralty sent as its representative Admiral Lowther Grant, who was in almost daily touch with officers of the Navy Department until the close of the war and won the regard of all.

Through the United States Naval Representative in London, American admirals on duty at Brest and Gibraltar and naval attachés abroad, the representatives of the Allied navies in Washington, who were kept fully informed by their governments, and the diplomatic and naval missions, the Navy Department was enabled to reach its decisions with all the possible lights before it. It never had to depend upon any single source of information.

These conferences at Washington were of the utmost importance because all large policies had to be settled by the Navy Department. Officers abroad were in command of ships assigned to them, and in emergencies upon their own initiative employed their forces to the best advantage. The ships overseas never were under independent command, but, as distinctly stated in orders, constituted a "task force of the Atlantic Fleet." Their orders stated: "The individuality of the United States forces should be such that they may be continuously ready to change their areas of operations as may be made necessary or by orders of the Navy Department."

In the World War it was necessary for the Navy to maintain close relationship with the President, the Council of National Defense, the State and War Departments, the War Industries Board, the War Trade Board, the Shipping Board and other war agencies, and the supply system for Army as well as Navy. It was essential to be in constant touch with the plans for the sending of troops and to have daily interchange of views with representatives of Allied navies. Intimate contact made for prompt action. The efficiency secured and maintained would have been impossible if the naval control had ever passed from Washington.

The decisions to establish bases at Brest, at Gibraltar and in the Azores were made by the Navy Department in Washington after conference with Allied powers. The result of their establishment justified the action taken. Routing of ships called for joint action between Allied and American naval agencies working together on both sides of the Atlantic. The movement of vessels carrying troops and supplies was necessarily dependent upon daily conference with War Department officials in Washington. Admiral William V. Pratt, who was Assistant Chief of Operations during the war, thus stated the main naval duty: "Our total naval effort in this war consisted less in the operation of forces at the front than in a logistic effort in the rear, in which the greatest problems we had to contend with originated and had to be solved, here at home. It must be noted that in this war the main united naval effort was one of logistics."

Building ships by the hundred; training men by the hundred thousand to operate them; producing munitions, materials and supplies by millions of tons; providing vessels to carry troops and men-of-war to protect them—all these problems of production and transportation were necessarily settled in Washington. It was this vast effort in America, directed from the Navy Department, which made possible all our activities in Europe, all the assistance we were able to render to the Allies and the general cause.

AMERICAN DESTROYERS IN QUEENSTOWN HARBOR

The depth charges are conspicuous on each stern.

From the painting by Bernard F. Gribble

THE RETURN OF THE MAYFLOWER

First American destroyers arriving in Queenstown harbor, May 4, 1917.

CHAPTER VII
"WE ARE READY NOW, SIR"

DESTROYERS, AFTER 3,000-MILE VOYAGE, PREPARED FOR IMMEDIATE SERVICE—FIRST OF AMERICAN FORCES SENT TO EUROPE—DEADLIEST FOE OF U-BOATS, THEY SAILED VAST AREAS, PROTECTING TROOPS AND CARGOES—256 ATTACKS ON SUBMARINES—"FANNING" SANK U-58 AND CAPTURED CREW—NO RANK IN SACRIFICE OR HONORS.

"Fit out for long and distant service!" was the order the Eighth Destroyer Division received from the flagship of the Atlantic Fleet the night of April 14, 1917. It was then 9:30 p. m., and they were directed to sail at daylight. At five o'clock next morning they started for their home navy yards.

Speeding to New York and Boston, the ships went into drydock, made repairs, tuned up machinery, and took aboard three months' stores and provisions—all in ten days.

Sailing from Boston April 24th, under sealed orders, it was not until midnight, when they were fifty miles at sea, that the officers of the flotilla knew its destination. Breaking the seal, the commander read the following, the first operating order issued to any American force:

NAVY DEPARTMENT

Office of Naval Operations

Washington, D. C., April 14.

Secret and Confidential.

To: Commander, Eighth Division, Destroyer Force, Atlantic Fleet; U. S. S. Wadsworth, flagship.

Subject: Protection of commerce near the coasts of Great Britain and Ireland.

1. The British Admiralty have requested the coöperation of a division of American destroyers in the protection of commerce near the coasts of Great Britain and France.

2. Your mission is to assist naval operations of Entente Powers in every way possible.

3. Proceed to Queenstown, Ireland. Report to senior British naval officer present, and thereafter coöperate fully with the British Navy. Should it be decided that your force act in coöperation with French naval forces, your mission and method of coöperation under French Admiralty authority remain unchanged.

Route to Queenstown: Boston to latitude 50 N., Long. 20 W., to arrive at daybreak, then to latitude 50 N., Long. 12 W., thence to Queenstown.

When within radio communication of the British naval forces off Ireland, call GCK and inform the Vice Admiral at Queenstown in British general code of your position, course, and speed. You will be met outside of Queenstown.

4. Base facilities will be provided by the British Admiralty.

5. Communicate your orders and operations to Rear Admiral Sims at London and be guided by such instructions as he may give you. Make no report of arrival to Navy Department direct.

Josephus Daniels.

Signed only three days after the conference with British and French admirals in Washington, this put into effect the verbal orders given the moment they requested that one or two destroyers be sent. Six were on the way—the Wadsworth, Conyngham, Porter, McDougal, Davis and Wainwright. They were the first of the United States forces despatched to Europe, the pioneers of the large fleet we sent across the Atlantic.

It was no smooth voyage they had in that long trip. Caught in a southeast gale which lasted for seven days, they were so tossed about by the heavy seas that they could not even set the mess-tables. "We ate off our laps," one officer remarked. But the welcome received when they reached port more than made up for these hardships. Nearing the coast, the ninth day out, a British destroyer, the Mary Rose, was sighted, flying the international signal, "Welcome to the American colors!"

"Thank you, we are glad of your company," the Americans replied.

Next morning, Friday, May 4th, they reached Queenstown. Though efforts had been made to keep secret their coming, the American flag floated from public buildings, business houses and residences, and from vessels in the harbor. Crowds assembled on the hills and along the shore, cheering as the ships from over the sea hove in sight.

It was a brilliant scene, flooded with sunshine—a historic day, marking the arrival of the first American forces to take part with the Allies in the struggle against the Central Powers. Through cheering crowds the Navy boys proceeded to the American Consulate, where the lord mayors of Queenstown and Cork extended a formal welcome. Sir John Jellicoe, First Sea Lord of the British Admiralty, in a letter to Commander J. K. Taussig, in command of the flotilla, offered the "warmest welcome possible in the name of the British nation and the British Admiralty," concluding: "May every good fortune attend you, and speedy victory be with us."

Vice Admiral Sir Lewis Bayly, Commander-in-Chief of the Coasts of Ireland, invited the destroyer commanders to dine with him that evening, closing his invitation with the characteristic note: "Dine in undress; no speeches." Able and energetic, he was known as a "hard driver"; a man of few words who hated talk and demanded results.

"When will you be ready to go to sea?" was about the first question he asked. He naturally supposed that, after a long and stormy voyage, they would ask some time for rest and repairs.

"We are ready now, sir," Commander Taussig replied; "that is, as soon as we finish refueling."

"I will give you four days from the time of arrival," the Admiral said. "Will that be sufficient?"

"Yes," was the answer, "that will be more than ample time."

Four days later they were all at sea, hunting submarines. Before the month was out they were swearing by Admiral Bayly, and he was calling them "my boys."

"Things were looking black," Commander Taussig said. "In the three previous weeks the submarines had sunk 152 British merchant ships. The night before we entered the harbor a German submarine had planted twelve mines right in the channel. Fortunately for us they were swept up by the ever vigilant British mine-sweepers before we arrived. The day following our arrival, one of the British gunboats from our station was torpedoed and her captain and forty of her crew were lost. Patrol vessels were continually bringing in survivors from the various ships as they were sunk."

The convoy system had not then been instituted, the British depending on patrol. This was trying duty, searching for the U-boat that might be anywhere within four or five hundred square miles, for the ocean was strewn with wreckage for three hundred miles from shore.

The Queenstown "area" comprised twenty-five thousand square miles, and yet this wide zone of trans-Atlantic shipping, west and south of Ireland, had been left almost unprotected. "Sometimes only four or five British destroyers were operating in this great stretch of waters," said Admiral Sims, "and I do not think the number ever exceeded fifteen."

Soon after the Americans arrived, the few British destroyers at Queenstown were withdrawn. Urging the sending of all floating craft available, Sims had informed us in his cablegram of April 28th:

Yesterday the War Council and Admiralty decided that coöperation of twenty-odd American destroyers with base at Queenstown would no doubt put down the present submarine activity which is dangerous and keep it down. The crisis will be passed if the enemy can be forced to disperse his forces from this critical area.

Within a month twenty-eight destroyers and two tenders were either in Queenstown or on the way there. On May 17th a second division arrived, followed by two other divisions, and two additional destroyers and the tenders Melville and Dixie. The Melville, which arrived May 22nd, was the "mother ship" and became the flagship of the United States forces stationed there. On June 1st, Sims wrote to the Navy Department:

It is gratifying to be able to report that the operations of our forces in these waters have proved not only very satisfactory, but also of marked value to the Allies in overcoming the submarine menace. The equipment and construction of our ships have proved adequate and sufficient and the personnel has shown an unusually high degree of enthusiasm and ability to cope with the situation presented.

As a special compliment to the American Navy, Admiral Sims had been invited, a few days before, to assume command at Queenstown in the absence of Admiral Bayly on a brief vacation, and for several days the American flag floated from Admiralty House. "So far as exercising any control over sea operations was concerned, this invitation was not particularly important," said Admiral Sims. "Matters were running smoothly at the Queenstown station; Admiral Bayly's second in command could have kept the machine in working order; it was hardly likely in the few days that I was to command that any changes in policy would be initiated. The British Admiralty merely took this way of showing a great courtesy to the American Navy, and of emphasizing to the world the excellent relations that existed between the two services."

In his book, "The Victory at Sea," Admiral Sims said:

One day Admiral Bayly, Captain Pringle of the U. S. S. Melville, Captain Campbell, the Englishman whose exploits with mystery ships had given him world-wide fame, and myself, went out on the Active to watch certain experiments with depth-charges. It was a highly imprudent thing to do, but that only added to the zest of the occasion from Admiral Bayly's point of view.

"What a bag this would be for the Hun," he chuckled. "The American Commander-in-Chief, the British admiral commanding in Irish waters, a British and an American captain."

In our mind's eye we could see our picture in the Berlin papers, four distinguished prisoners standing in a row.

The destroyers which escorted the first troop convoys were, after they reached St. Nazaire, sent to the base in Ireland. By July 5th we had thirty-four destroyers at Queenstown. Thirty-seven vessels of the Force—35 destroyers and two tenders—had been sent to Europe, as follows:

Others were sent as they became available, and new destroyers, in course of construction when war began, were dispatched to Europe upon completion. All but two of the destroyers we had in April, 1917, served in foreign waters. We also sent to Europe nine of the old type later designated as "coast torpedo vessels"—the Bainbridge, Barry, Chauncey, Dale, Decatur, McDonough, Stewart, Truxtun and Worden—and, old and small as they were, they did excellent service. Eighty-five destroyers, in all, saw service in the "war zone."

Hunting U-boats, going to the relief of vessels attacked, rescuing survivors, and later, when the convoy system was put into effect, escorting vessels—troop and supply ships, passenger steamers and merchantmen—through the danger zones to and from port, the destroyers had plenty to do.

THE SURRENDER OF THE U-58

The crew of this submarine surrendered to the Fanning, after the destroyer's depth charges had disabled the undersea boat. Inset, the first officer of the U-boat, who traded his Iron Cross for a clean undershirt.

CREW OF THE FANNING, WHICH SANK THE U-58

The star on the funnel indicates a submarine victim.

Finding a "sub" was the hardest part of the game, for the mere glimpse of a destroyer through a periscope was sufficient for the submarine to submerge and scurry away. Yet our vessels in European waters were credited with 256 attacks on U-boats, and there were not a few exciting encounters.

No more striking example of prompt action and quick results occurred during the entire war than that of the Fanning and the Nicholson when they "got" a German submarine, the U-58, on November 17, 1917. Sailing along with a convoy, at 4:10 p. m. Coxswain David D. Loomis, lookout on the Fanning, caught a glimpse of a periscope. It was a finger periscope, a tiny thing an inch and a half in diameter, no larger than a walking stick. It was lifted for only a few seconds, but the keen eyes of Loomis spied it, and he estimated its distance and location—three points on the port bow, 400 yards distant, moving across the bow at two knots' speed. The Fanning headed for the spot, full speed, and as it crossed the course dropped a depth-bomb. Changing course, the Nicholson was dashing across to drop another charge when the conning tower appeared. The Nicholson headed for the submarine, and the Fanning turned in her wake to attack. Dropping a depth-charge alongside the U-boat, the Nicholson turned, firing from her stern gun. The sub's bow came up rapidly. She seemed to be down by the stern and was evidently badly damaged, but tried to right herself and increased her speed. As the Nicholson cleared, the Fanning opened fire with her bow gun. At the third shot the German crew came on deck, and held up their hands shouting, "Kamerad!" At 4:28 the submarine surrendered. It had been only 18 minutes since Loomis had sighted her periscope.

Getting a line to the crippled craft, the destroyers prepared to take it in tow. But two of her crew disappeared for a moment. They scuttled the boat. As it sank, the Germans jumped into the water and swam for the Fanning. Heaving lines were thrown to them, and all but one, Franz Glinder, managed to get aboard. When it was seen that he was sinking, two of the Fanning's crew, Chief Pharmacist's Mate Elzer Harwell and Coxswain Francis G. Connor, jumped overboard to rescue him. They got him aboard the ship, but in spite of all efforts to resuscitate him, he died.

The commander, Kapitän-Leutnant Gustav Amberger, his three other officers and thirty-five men were prisoners. They were given hot coffee, sandwiches and cigarettes, and men of the Fanning loaned their warm clothing. No prisoners were ever better treated. As they entered the boats that were to take them ashore, they cheered the Fanning and its crew.

A larger volume than this would be required to detail all the exploits of our destroyers in European waters, or even to give the reports of their contacts with submarines. But a few examples will give some idea of the work they did.

Not long after her arrival in Queenstown, the O'Brien (Lieutenant Commander C. A. Blakely) defeated a U-boat which was trying to attack the British steamer Elysia, twelve miles south of Ballycotton Light, off the Irish coast. This encounter occurred at 4:21, June 16, 1917, and the London Headquarters' report of June 20th, said:

It is reasonably certain now that the O'Brien destroyed the submarine mentioned. She was escorting a valuable ship when the two periscopes of a submarine were observed about 800 yards on her bow. She altered course immediately, headed for it, and increased to full speed. The periscopes were again seen about a minute later about 100 yards dead ahead, the submarine having apparently attempted to avoid the O'Brien and torpedo her escort astern of her. From the last position sighted, the submarine apparently started to dive, and must have barely escaped being rammed.

The lookout on the top observed her hull distinctly alongside the O'Brien and gradually disappearing as she proceeded downward, on almost exactly the opposite course to the O'Brien. A depth-charge was dropped when the submarine was under the after deck-house, and although the O'Brien was making 20 knots by this time, less than three minutes after the submarine had been sighted, the explosion of the depth-charge gave the ship a very severe shaking. The O'Brien circled over the spot, but saw no evidence of damage. A British destroyer passing over the same spot, nearly three hours later found and reported large patches of strong-smelling oil. The Cushing, on the following morning, passed the same area and also reported a large amount of oil. This incident occurred just off Queenstown entrance and was unfortunately one of those cases the exact results of which cannot be determined.

The Trippe, Warrington, Jenkins, Wadsworth, Cummings, Wilkes and Benham all had encounters in July which were not only successful but showed evidence that the U-boats were damaged, if not disabled. The Parker (Lieutenant Commander Halsey Powell) on August 3rd had a long U-boat encounter. With the Fanning and Nicholson, she had been escorting steamers and had just returned to patrol when a submarine was reported about 30 miles away. Speeding to the locality, at 2:15 she found the steamship Newby Hall had been attacked, and was told that the U-boat had submerged probably six miles distant. Escorting the steamer toward port, the Parker, at 4:10 p. m. turned her over to the Burrows, and returned to look for the "sub." The steamship Rio Verde, which was in the vicinity, was escorted out of the dangerous locality, and the destroyer resumed the hunt for the enemy.

At 6:50 the Parker sighted the submarine, which submerged when the destroyer came within 8,000 yards. But the U-boat left a long oil slick which the Parker followed down. "On reaching the end of the slick, saw submarine underneath the end of the bridge," the commander reported. "Dropped two depth-charges on the submarine and from all evidence she was very probably sunk. There was practically simultaneous explosion of the depth-charges, followed by another explosion. There was discovered on the surface of the water air bubbles, and a heavy scum of oil, and particles of what appeared to be cork." As no wreckage or prisoners were obtained, the Admiralty gave the credit "probably seriously damaged"; but the men aboard the Parker were convinced that the submarine had been destroyed.

The Jacob Jones, Davis and McDougal were credited with successful encounters in September, the McDougal being credited in Admiral Sims' Headquarters' report of Sept. 15th, with "protection of two meeting convoys against enemy submarine," and "possible destruction" of the U-boat.

While escorting a New York convoy the McDougal (Commander A. P. Fairfield) at 1:21 a. m. sighted the submarine on the surface, and gave chase. The "sub" submerged 500 yards ahead. Dropping two depth-charges, the McDougal circled around the spot, and soon noticed oil rising, apparently from the U-boat. A northbound convoy from France to Wales was sighted only a half mile away. "One or more ships of convoy were undoubtedly saved by the fact that the submarine was forced to submerge hastily," said the Headquarters' report. "Submarine believed to be damaged or sunk."

When the large British steamship Orama was torpedoed October 19, 1917, the U. S. S. Conyngham attacked and drove off the submarine, saving other ships of the convoy. Her commanding officer, Commander A. W. Johnson, made this report:

During the afternoon Conyngham hailed H. M. S. Orama and suggested that, due to submarine reported ahead, convoy change course. This was not thought advisable by the commanding officer of H. M. S. Orama and convoy proceeded on original course.

At 5:30 p. m. Parker, in position 48 degrees N. 09-20 W., escort about two miles ahead of convoy, reported sighting discolored water (brownish).

At 5:50 p. m., while Conyngham was alongside starboard side of Orama passing her recognition signals, a torpedo crossing Clan Lindsay's bow struck H. M. S. Orama in port side, about No. 3 hold. A distinct report was heard, followed immediately by cloud of smoke arising from Orama forward of her bridge. Orama listed to port and began to sink by the bow. Conyngham by radio ordered convoy to disperse. Conyngham sounded general quarters and went full speed ahead and crossed Orama's bow by going full left rudder, then proceeded to make circle between VA and VR columns.

When circling, a wake was sighted on starboard quarter. A periscope about one foot emerged visible for few seconds only was seen in this wake. A short time afterwards a periscope was sighted sharp on our starboard bow. This periscope submerged almost immediately, but wake was plainly visible. Conyngham, then a few yards from the periscope, headed for same and dropped depth-charge over the wake. An explosion resulted. Large quantities of discolored water was seen to rise in the air and a number of crew and officers distinctly made out a quantity of wreckage, one piece of which might have been the wireless mast of the submarine, when Conyngham circled near the spot of the explosion.

The Jacob Jones and the Conyngham remained by the Orama to save life. It was night when the vessel began to settle and was abandoned by her crew. But the destroyers rescued all the 478 persons who were on board the Orama.

American destroyers had been operating in European waters six months with no damage from enemy action, when, on October 15th, the Cassin (Lieutenant Commander W. N. Vernou) was torpedoed. Her rudder was blown off, a gun blown overboard, and the after part of the ship wrecked; yet by expert seamanship she was kept afloat and taken to port, repaired and put back into service. Nine men of the crew were wounded, but only one was killed—Gunner's Mate Osmond K. Ingram, who gave his life to save the ship.

Patrolling off the Irish coast, 20 miles south of Mine Head, at 1:30 p. m. the Cassin sighted a submarine, but it vanished before the destroyer could get close to it. Half an hour later Commander Vernou sighted a torpedo running at high speed toward the ship. Double emergency full speed was rung, the rudder put hard left, and for a moment it looked as if the torpedo might pass astern. When only fifteen or twenty feet away, it porpoised, leaving the water and sheering to the left; and struck the vessel well aft, on the port side.

When the torpedo was sighted, Ingram, who was at his gun, realized that if it struck among the depth-bombs astern, the explosion might sink the ship. Instantly, he ran aft to strip these charges and throw them overboard. He was blown to pieces when the torpedo struck. The memory of this heroic gunner's mate, who made the supreme sacrifice to save his shipmates, is preserved in the name of one of our new destroyers, the Ingram, the first naval vessel ever named for an enlisted man. There is no rank in sacrifice or honors.

The officers and men worked heroically to save the Cassin. Her rudder gone, she was moving in circles. Efforts were made to steer by use of the engines, but something carried away and put the starboard engine out of commission. The ship seemed absolutely unmanageable. All was dark below, the electric generator having been disabled. Radio apparatus broken, a temporary auxiliary antenna had to be rigged up before assistance could be summoned by wireless. But the crew were undismayed, the gunners were at their stations, and when, at 2:30 o'clock, a conning tower was sighted, the Cassin opened fire. Two shots struck close to the U-boat, which submerged and did not again attempt to attack the crippled ship.

Just before 4 o'clock the U. S. S. Porter arrived. At 9 the British ships Jessamine and Tamarisk appeared on the scene. But the sea was rough, the wind high, and it was not until 2:30 a. m. that a hawser was made fast and the Tamarisk started towing the Cassin. An hour later the hawser parted. The Tamarisk, two trawlers and a tug worked until morning, attempting to get the vessel in tow again. But it was not until 10:37 a. m. that a towing line from the Snowdrop was made fast, and the Cassin taken to port.

Thirty-five feet of the stern was blown off. Living compartments and store-rooms in the after part of the ship were wrecked or gone. The equivalent of 850 pounds of TNT, in torpedo and depth-charges, had exploded on the Cassin's fantail. Twenty-odd men were in the wrecked living compartments when the torpedo exploded. Their escape was almost miraculous. Dazed by the shock, they automatically closed water-tight doors and performed other emergency duties, but could never tell just how they did it or got away. All declared that from the instant of the explosion they were absolutely blinded. Forty-five members of the crew, including the chief petty officers, lost all their belongings except the clothes they had on. But that did not bother them. The ship was saved, they were still alive, and that was happiness enough.

The Chauncey, one of our small, old-type destroyers, was rammed and sunk by the steamship Rose near Gibraltar at 1:46 a. m., November 19th. Three of the officers—Lieutenant Commander Walter E. Reno, commanding, Lieutenant (junior grade) C. F. Wedderburn, and Ensign H. G. Skinner—and 18 men were lost.

On December 6th, the Jacob Jones was sunk, with the loss of two officers—Lieutenant (junior grade) Stanton F. Kalk, of Washington, D. C., and Gunner Harry R. Hood, of Atlanta, Ga.—and 62 men of the crew. The Jones was proceeding alone from off Brest to Queenstown when, at 4:21 p. m., a torpedo was sighted rushing toward the ship. The rudder was put hard left, the destroyer put on all its speed, but could not maneuver in time to escape.

Broaching and jumping clear of the water, the torpedo submerged again 50 or 60 feet from the ship, striking in the fuel-oil tank, three feet below the water-line. The deck was blown clear for twenty feet, a number of men were killed; the auxiliary room wrecked, a torpedo-tube thrown into the air, the mainmast and radio apparatus were carried away. The vessel settled aft immediately, and the after deck was awash. The gunnery officer, Lieutenant J. K. Richards, ran aft to set the depth-charges "safe"; but they were already under water. Rafts and lifeboats were launched, circular lifebelts and splinter masts set adrift to provide floatage for the crew.

The ship went down in eight minutes. Most of the men were on rafts or wreckage, but some were swimming astern of the vessel. Lieutenant Commander David W. Bagley and other officers jumped overboard as the destroyer began to sink. Officers and men bore themselves with great coolness. "Bagley's handling of the situation after his ship was torpedoed," wrote Admiral Sims, "was everything I expected in the way of efficiency, good judgment, courage, and chivalrous action."

Going down stern-first the destroyer twisted through 180 degrees, as she swung upright. As she turned, her depth-charges exploded, killing or stunning the men near by.

Twenty minutes later the submarine appeared, two or three miles distant, then gradually approached and picked up two men from the water, Albert De Mello and John F. Murphy, whom she carried to Germany as prisoners. All the survivors in sight were collected, and rafts and boats gotten together. The ship's radio had been wrecked, preventing the sending out of distress signals. Two shots had been fired from her guns in the hope of attracting some nearby ship, but none was in hearing. There seemed no prospect of assistance except from shore, and leaving Lieutenant Richards in charge of the rafts, Lieutenant Commander Bagley, the ship's commander, and Lieutenant Norman Scott, the navigating officer, with four men, started to row to the nearest land to secure assistance.

Night soon came on, and the men on the rafts prepared for a long vigil. When help would arrive, none could tell. Shivering from cold, shaken by the experience through which they had passed, the survivors kept up their courage with the amazing cheerfulness of the sailor in stress and disaster. Their very lives depending on keeping warm, men who had thick clothing divided it with those more thinly clad. Officers and men shared their belongings and worked together for the common safety.

One small raft, which had been separated from the others, was picked up at 8 p. m. by the steamship Catalina. The other survivors remained in their perilous position all night, and it was not until 8:30 o'clock next morning when they were discovered and rescued by the British steamship Camellia.

One brave young officer died before relief arrived. Though still suffering from the effects of the explosion, which had stunned him, and weakened by his efforts after the ship sank, Lieutenant Kalk swam from one raft to another to equalize the weight on them. Striving for the safety of his men, he overtaxed his own strength, and died of exhaustion and exposure. Men who were on the raft with him said, "He was game to the last." His courage and self-sacrifice are commemorated in a destroyer that bears his name.

There was no other serious damage to destroyers until March 19, 1918, when a British vessel collided with the Manley. The collision exploded the depth-charges on her decks, killing Lieutenant Commander Richard McC. Elliot, of New York, and 33 enlisted men, and injuring 22 others. The Manley, though badly damaged, was gotten to port and repaired.

The destroyers never halted in their warfare on the submarines, and many encounters were reported in the early part of 1918, probably the most notable being those of the Allen, Feb. 2d; the Reid, March 18th; the Isabel; the Stewart, April 23; the Porter, April 28; the joint attack of the Patterson, Beale, Burrows and Allen on May 19th, and that of the Sterrett on June 1st. All these were given official credits by the British Admiralty, which also gave the Tucker (Lieutenant Commander W. H. Lassing), which bombed and sent down a U-boat on August 8th, the credit "possibly sunk."

The armed yachts, the sub-chasers and all the rest played well their parts. But after all it was the gallant destroyers which did most to combat the submarine menace. At sea two-thirds of the time, they escorted thousands of vessels in and out of European ports. Some of them made astounding records. The first year after we entered the war at least three, the Porter, Davis and Conyngham, steamed nearly 65,000 miles each, over twice the distance around the globe, while the Caldwell for some time averaged 8,500 miles a month, over 280 miles a day. No class of ship, big or little, ever excelled these records.

Commander Byron McCandless, who commanded the Caldwell, went to Mare Island Navy Yard not long after her keel was laid, and banged away so persistently to get his ship finished that the workmen called him "Captain Bing-Bang." It was completed in quick time, and for its trial trip made a record run from San Francisco through the Panama Canal to Hampton Roads, going thence across the Atlantic and into service in the war zone.

There were many stories of the destroyers' efficiency, and one told me by a gentleman on his return from Europe impressed me particularly. Making its way across the North Atlantic, a convoy of troop-ships was still some three hundred miles from land when a voyager, who was making his first trip across, remarked: "All you can hear about nowadays is the Navy. It is the Navy this, the Navy that; but as far as I can see, the Navy is not doing much in this war."

One of the civilians in the party who had a son in the Navy, rose to his feet, pulled out his watch and said: "In ten minutes six United States destroyers will meet this convoy."

"What are you talking about?" asked the voyager. "How do you know?"

"Well," was the confident answer, "it is now 4:05 o'clock. The destroyers are ordered to meet this convoy at 4:15, and they will be on time."

The party went out on deck to watch, and on the minute, at 4:15, destroyers hove in sight. Swinging into line, on each side of the convoy, the saucy little vessels, heaving foam and spray from bow to stern, spanked along through the heavy seas.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed the doubting Thomas, "if these little destroyers can come three hundred miles to sea in any kind of weather, keep their schedule, and locate a convoy on the dot, I will believe anything I hear regarding the Navy." That's just an example of the way our destroyer boys went at the job, and they kept it up until the last horn blew.

Their skill in navigation, in locating convoys or vessels in distress or boats containing survivors was positively uncanny. When the President Lincoln was sunk five hundred miles at sea, the Smith and the Warrington, two hundred and fifty miles away, hurried to the rescue. A wireless message stating the locality was all they had to steer by. It was 11 p. m. when they arrived. Boats and rafts had drifted fifteen miles. But so accurately had the destroyer officers estimated the drift that in the darkness they almost ran into the rafts!

American destroyers at Brest operated under direct command of Admiral Wilson and those at Gibraltar under command of Admiral Niblack. Though operating under Admiral Bayly and subject to his orders, our Destroyer Force at Queenstown had its own organization. The chief-of-staff was Captain J. R. P. Pringle, whose ability and untiring energy won the respect and regard of British and Americans alike. The senior commander was Commander David C. Hanrahan, of the Cushing, whose enterprise and energy were a fine example to his juniors.

The splendid work done by our vessels, the excellent condition in which they were maintained, the superb morale of the entire force, called for the highest praise. A year after the arrival of the first group, Admiral Bayly issued the following order:

On the anniversary of the arrival of the first United States men-of-war at Queenstown, I wish to express my deep gratitude to the United States officers and ratings for the skill, energy and unfailing good nature which they have all consistently shown and which qualities have so materially assisted in the war by enabling ships of the Allied Powers to cross the ocean in comparative freedom.

To command you is an honor, to work with you is a pleasure, to know you is to know the best traits of the Anglo-Saxon race.

A thrilling example of the courage, quick decision and prompt action that characterized the Destroyer Force was that of the Shaw October 9, 1918. Escorting the British transport Aquitania, the Shaw was just completing the right leg of a zigzag that brought her close to the convoy, when her rudder jammed. As the huge transport turned, the destroyer was aimed straight toward her side. Commander William Glassford, captain of the Shaw, saw that a collision was inevitable. Either destroyer or transport would be sacrificed. If the sharp-prowed Shaw struck the Aquitania, the big troop-ship, with eight thousand men aboard, might be ripped and sunk, with heavy loss of life.

THEY, TOO, WERE READY

Above, a view through the stem of the Cassin after she had been hit by a torpedo; although crippled, she continued the search for the submarine. Inset, Gunner's Mate Osmond K. Ingram, who gave his life to save the Cassin. Below, the U. S. S. Shaw alongside deck after her collision with the Aquitania.]

Glassford decided instantly to sacrifice his own ship. Unable to turn it aside, he gave the order, "Full speed astern!" A moment later, the Aquitania struck the destroyer and sliced her almost in two, passing through her without even slowing speed. Striking just forward of the bridge, the Aquitania cut off ninety feet of the Shaw's bow and raked the whole length of her side, stripping open the forward boiler room, and tearing out the mainmast, which, in falling, jammed the starboard engine. Sparks ignited the oil in the forward tank, setting fire to the vessel. The Duncan and the Kimberly went to her assistance, the Kimberly rescuing the survivors in the bow, which was floating two hundred yards from the remainder of the ship.

THE SEATTLE AND REAR ADMIRAL ALBERT GLEAVES

The Commander and Flagship of the Cruiser and Transport Force.

From the painting by Burnett Poole

A DASH THROUGH THE DANGER ZONE

The Leviathan, largest of the transports, escorted by the Kimberly.

That the vessel kept afloat at all seemed remarkable; to get her to port appeared almost impossible. But those brave men of the Shaw put out the fire, in the face of bursting ammunition. They rigged up her engines and got them working again, and repaired the steering gear. And they navigated that remnant of a ship to port, reaching Portland at 1:30 in the afternoon. Two of her officers and ten men of her crew were dead, killed in the collision. Three officers and twelve men were injured. Her bow and most of the forward part of the ship was gone. But what was left of her was taken to a shipyard, and a new forward part was built. Some months afterwards, on a visit to Portsmouth, England, where she was repaired, I saw her again in commission, doing splendid service in the Navy.

Could there be a better tribute than that to the staunchness of our destroyers and the undying spirit and superb efficiency of their officers and men?

CHAPTER VIII
RACE BETWEEN WILSON AND HINDENBURG

BIGGEST TRANSPORTATION JOB IN HISTORY—TWO MILLION TROOPS CARRIED 3,000 MILES OVERSEAS—FIRST CONVOYS ATTACKED BY U-BOATS NO AMERICAN TROOP-SHIP SUNK, NOT ONE SOLDIER ABOARD LOST THROUGH ENEMY ACTION, ON THE WAY TO FRANCE—NAVAL TRANSPORTS TOOK 911,000 TO EUROPE, BROUGHT HOME 1,700,000—U. S. NAVY PROVIDED FOUR-FIFTHS OF ESCORTS.

What was the greatest thing America did in the World War?" That is a question I have often been asked, and it is easily answered. It was the raising and training of an army of 4,000,000 men, a navy of over 600,000, and the safe transportation of more than two million troops to Europe. And all this was accomplished in eighteen months.

When the issue hung in the balance, in the spring of 1918, Lloyd George said: "It is a race between Wilson and Hindenburg." Could America land enough soldiers in France in time to check the German offensive? That was the one vital question.

Carrying the American Expeditionary Force across the Atlantic and bringing our troops home has been justly termed the "biggest transportation job in history." Sailing through submarine-infested seas, they constantly faced the menace of attack from an unseen foe, as well as the perils of war-time navigation. Yet not one American troop-ship was sunk on the way to France, and not one soldier aboard a troop transport manned by the United States Navy lost his life through enemy action.

That achievement has never been equalled. It was not only the most important but the most successful operation of the war. The Germans never believed it could be done.

When Rear Admiral Albert Gleaves, commander of the Cruiser and Transport Force, came to Washington for his final instructions, just before the first troop convoys sailed for Europe, as he was leaving my office, I said to him:

Admiral, you are going on the most important, the most difficult, and the most hazardous duty assigned to the Navy. Good bye.

That was not overstating it in any particular. No nation in history had ever attempted to transport so huge an army overseas. It would have been difficult enough under the most ideal conditions, with nothing to hinder or molest.

The German navy could have no greater object than to prevent our troops from getting to France. There could have been no greater victory for them than to have sunk a transport loaded with American soldiers. Words can hardly express the strain of those anxious days when our first transports were running the gauntlet to France; or our relief when we received the news that they had all arrived safely at St. Nazaire.

Sailing in a dense fog on June 14, 1917, the first group arrived on June 26th; the last, the cargo ships, on July 2nd. The first group, Gleaves reported, was attacked by submarines the night of June 22nd, at 10:15 p. m.; the second group encountered two, and a torpedo was fired at the fourth group on June 28th. That they had escaped the submarines was an added cause for rejoicing. Not a ship was damaged or a man injured, and an officer reported: "We didn't lose but one horse, and that was a mule."

"The German Admiralty had boasted that not one American soldier should set foot in France," Gleaves said. "The bluff had been called, and it could not have been called at a more psychological moment."

The question of the hour had been successfully answered; France, as well as America, celebrated the event in a very delirium of rejoicing. This was the beginning of that vast stream of troops and supplies that poured across the Atlantic until the Germans were overwhelmed.

Getting that first group of transports together was a job. The army had only a few troop-ships, none of them fitted for trans-Atlantic service. The Navy had only three—the Henderson, just completed; the Hancock, and the former German commerce raider, Prince Eitel Friedrich, which we converted into an auxiliary cruiser and renamed the DeKalb. The Army secured fourteen mail and cargo steamships, and hastily converted them. It had to be quick work. We had not contemplated sending troops so soon. From a military standpoint it would have been better, many experts in this country and Europe held, to have retained the regulars for a while to aid in training the new officers and raw recruits, and not to have begun transportation until we had a larger army.

But war-weary France, grimly holding back the Germans, and England, beset by submarines, needed cheering up; needed visible evidence that reënforcement was certain, that the Americans were coming. Marshal Joffre asked that some troops be sent at the earliest possible moment—"a regiment or two, if possible a division." He told Secretary Baker that he looked forward to the day when the United States should build up its "splendid army of 400,000 or 500,000." What must he have thought when he saw an American army of 4,000,000 men, with two millions of them in France! He appreciated the necessity, he said, of retaining the regulars to train the new army, and knew that few could be spared. But the very sight of American troops on French soil, of our men marching through the streets of Paris, would be a tremendous inspiration to all France. The wise old Marshal was right.

Secretary Baker immediately began his preparations to send troops. When he told Congress he would have an army of 500,000 men in France in the summer of 1918, a leading senator declared it was "impossible." It was impossible to those without vision. But the Secretary of War's figures were increased three-fold.

General Pershing was chosen to command the forces to be sent to Europe, and was summoned from the Mexican border. He arrived in Washington May 10th. Preparations were already under way by both Army and Navy. Officers of both services were working out in detail the system by which they were to secure ships and coöperate in transportation.

I selected Gleaves, then in command of our destroyer force, to direct the troop transportation, and I never had reason to regret this choice. No man could have done a big job better; no job was ever better done. On May 23, he was summoned to Washington and informed that he had been chosen to command the first expedition to France.

General Pershing and his staff sailed May 28th on the Baltic and arrived at Liverpool June 8, reaching France at Boulogne, June 13th. The troop convoys sailed from New York the next day. Admiral Gleaves, on his flagship, the cruiser Seattle, was in command. The vessels were arranged in four groups, which sailed six hours apart:

Group 1—Transports: Saratoga, Havana, Tenadores, Pastores. Escort: Seattle, armored cruiser; DeKalb, auxiliary cruiser; Corsair, converted yacht; Wilkes, Terry, Roe, destroyers.

Group 2—Transports: Henderson, Momus, Antilles, Lenape. Escort: Birmingham, scout cruiser; Aphrodite, converted yacht; Burrows, Fanning, Lamson, destroyers.

Group 3—Transports: Mallory, Finland, San Jacinto. Escort: Charleston, cruiser; Cyclops, fuel ship; Allen, McCall, Preston, destroyers.

Group 4—Transports: Montanan, Dakotan, El Occidente, Edward Luckenbach. Escort: St. Louis, cruiser; Hancock, cruiser transport; Shaw, Parker, Ammen, Flusser, destroyers.

No convoy that ever sailed had a stronger escort or was more closely guarded. Their protection was our supreme duty. Before they left, I cabled Admiral Sims: "I hereby instruct you to furnish escorts, to consist of one division of destroyers for each convoy group from the point of meeting to the point of debarkation."

Submarines were reported operating in the area that had to be crossed. Three of the groups encountered U-boats, Admiral Gleaves reported, and Admiral Sims cabled on June 30th, "First group attacked by submarines, longitude 25 degrees 30, before arriving at first rendezvous; second group attacked longitude 8"; and the next day he cabled: "It is practically certain that enemy knew position of the first rendezvous and accordingly sent a submarine to intercept before juncture with destroyers."

About 10:15 p. m., June 22, the officer of the deck and others on the bridge of the Seattle, which was leading the first group, saw a white streak about 50 yards ahead of the ship, crossing from starboard to port. The cruiser was immediately run off 90 degrees to starboard at full speed. The officer of the deck said, "Report to the admiral a torpedo has just crossed our bow." General alarm was sounded, torpedo crews being already at their guns. When Gleaves reached the bridge, the DeKalb and one of the transports astern had opened fire, the former's shell fitted with tracers. Other vessels of the convoy turned to the right and left. The destroyer Wilkes crossed the Seattle's bow at full speed and turned toward the left column in the direction of the firing.

Two torpedoes passed close to the DeKalb from port to starboard, one about 30 yards ahead of the ship and the other under her stern, as the ship was turning to the northward. Captain Gherardi stated that at 10:25 the wake of a torpedo was sighted directly across the DeKalb's bow. A second torpedo wake was reported ten minutes later by the after lookouts.

The torpedoes fired at the Havana passed from starboard to port about 40 yards ahead of the ship, leaving a distinct wake which was visible for 400 or 500 yards.

The submarine sighted by the Seattle was seen by the Wilkes and passed under that ship, Lieutenant Van Metre reported, stating that the oscillator gave unmistakable evidence of the presence of a submarine. The radio operator at the receiver reported, "Submarine very close to us." As the U-boat passed, it was followed by the Wilkes, which ran down between the columns, chasing the enemy.

The Birmingham, leading the second group, encountered two submarines, the first about 11:50 a. m., June 26, in latitude 47° 01´ N. longitude 06° 28´ W., about a hundred miles off the coast of France, and the second two hours later. The Wadsworth investigated the wake of the first without further discovery. The Cummings sighted the bow wave of the second at a distance of 1,500 yards, and headed for it at a speed of 25 knots. The gun pointers at the forward gun saw the periscope time and again, but as the ship was zigzagging, it disappeared each time before they could fire at it. The Cummings passed about 25 yards ahead of a mass of bubbles which were coming up from the wake and let go a depth-charge just ahead. Several pieces of timber, quantities of oil, bubbles and debris came to the surface. Nothing more was seen of the submarine. The attacks on the second group occurred about 800 miles to the eastward of where the attacks had been made on the first group.

The voyage of the third group, Admiral Gleaves reported, was uneventful; but the Kanawha, with the fourth group, on June 28th, fired on what was believed to be a submarine. The Kanawha's commander saw the object; and a minute or two later the port after gun's crew reported sighting a submarine, and opened fire. The lookouts said they saw the U-boat under the water's surface, about where the shots were landing. Lieutenant (junior grade) Lee C. Carey, in charge of the firing, reported that he saw the submarine fire two torpedoes in the direction of the convoy, which sheered off when the alarm was sounded. "All the officers and men aft had observed the torpedoes traveling through the water and cheered loudly when they saw a torpedo miss a transport," reported the Kanawha's commander.

When he was in Paris Admiral Gleaves was shown a confidential bulletin of information issued by the French General Staff, dated July 6, which contained the following:

Ponta Delgada was bombarded at 9 a. m., July 4. This is undoubtedly the submarine which attacked the Fern Leaf on June 25, four hundred miles north of the Azores and sank the Benguela and Syria on the 29th of June 100 miles from Terceira (Azores). This submarine was ordered to watch in the vicinity of the Azores at such a distance as it was supposed the enemy American convoy would pass from the Azores.

"It appears from the French report just quoted above and from the location of the attack that enemy submarines had been notified of our approach and were probably scouting across our route," Gleaves said.

On the evening of July 3rd, I had the pleasure of announcing the safe arrival of all our convoys, without the loss of a man. This occasioned general rejoicing in France, England and Italy, as well as America. For us, the national holiday that followed was truly a glorious Fourth. Secretary Baker wrote the thanks of the Army, adding: "This splendid achievement is an auspicious beginning, and it has been characterized throughout by the most cordial and effective coöperation between the two military services." In replying, "in behalf of the men whose courage gave safe conduct to courage," I said that the Navy waited "in full confidence for the day when the valor of your soldiers will write new and splendid chapters in the history of our liberty-loving land."

The policy of the Department, with reference to the safety of ships carrying troops to France, was laid down in this cablegram which I wrote with my own hand:

Washington, D. C., July 28, 1917.

Admiral Sims:

The paramount duty of the destroyers in European waters is principally the proper protection of transports with American troops. Be certain to detail an adequate convoy of destroyers and in making the detail bear in mind that everything is secondary to having a sufficient number to insure protection to American troops.

Josephus Daniels.

From the small beginning was built up the great Cruiser and Transport Force which took to France 911,047 American soldiers, and brought home 1,700,000—a total of 2,600,000 carried across the Atlantic in naval transports. In less than a year this Force grew to a fleet of 83 vessels, and after the armistice comprised 142 vessels carrying troops, with facilities for 13,914 officers and 349,770 men. Rear Admiral Gleaves' headquarters were at Hoboken, N. J., where most of the transports docked. His chief of staff was Captain De W. Blamer. The Newport News Division was commanded by Rear Admiral Hilary P. Jones, now commander-in-chief of the Atlantic Fleet, with Captain J. F. Hines as his chief of staff.

Of the 194,965 troops which sailed before the end of 1917, 113,429 were carried in American vessels, all but 8,535 of these in our transports; and 75,500 were taken in British ships. In January, February and March, 1918, British vessels carried 57,399; U. S. naval transports, 123,917. Foreign shipping in large quantity did not become available until after the famous "March drive" made by the Germans in 1918. Then the most important thing to all the Allies was getting American soldiers to Europe, and British, French and Italian ships in numbers were furnished. In April, 1918, 67,553 sailed in U. S. transports, 47,362 in British ships. In May the British carried more than we did, 133,795 to our 99,561, besides 12,127 carried in Italian vessels leased by the British. In the next five months up to the armistice, 520,410 were carried in U. S. naval transports, and 28,973 in other American ships; British vessels carried 692,931; British-leased Italian ships 53,493 and French, Italian and other foreign ships, 38,218.

The records of the Cruiser and Transport Force show that, in all, 2,079,880 American troops were transported to France before the armistice—952,581 in American vessels, 911,047 of these in U. S. naval transports; 1,006,987 in British ships; 68,246 in British-leased Italian vessels; 52,066 in French, Italian and other foreign ships. American vessels carried 46.25 per cent, 43.75 of this in U. S. Naval transports; British vessels 48.25 per cent; British-leased Italian ships, 3 per cent; French, Italian and others, 2.5 per cent.

The purely naval duty was escorting these vessels, guarding them against attack by raiders or submarines. Of this the British navy performed 14.125 per cent, the French 3.125, and the United States Navy 82.75 per cent, over four-fifths. Of the total number of troops, 61,617 were under French escort, 297,903 under British escort, and 1,720,360 sailed under the escort of the United States Navy.

But that is only half the story. When hostilities ended, that vast army had to be brought back from Europe. For this, very little foreign shipping was available. Of the 1,933,156 Americans returned from November 11, 1918, to the end of September, 1919, the Navy brought home 1,675,733; all other vessels, American and foreign, 257,423. During hostilities we had returned 11,211 sick, wounded, casuals, etc.; some were returned after September, so that the total number brought by the Navy from Europe to America ran well over 1,700,000.

Of the total troop and official passenger movement incident to the war, approximately 4,000,000, the Navy transported more than 2,600,000. Not only did the Navy man and operate the United States transports, but provided the food for this vast army of soldiers en route. And during the entire war period, four-fifths of all the American troops who sailed were guarded by American cruisers, destroyers and patrol craft.

This country could not have sent over nearly so many troops as it did, if we had not been aided by the British, French and Italian vessels. This was no gift, of course. The United States Government paid for every soldier transported on a foreign vessel. The aid of our Allies was invaluable, and highly appreciated. They should be given full credit for all they did; but this should not detract one iota from the great task performed by our Navy, which was the biggest factor in putting through this biggest job of the war.

Not a single vessel of the Cruiser and Transport Force was torpedoed on the way to France. Two, the President Lincoln and the Covington, were sunk returning, as was also the Antilles, an Army chartered transport not manned by the Navy. Two American transports were torpedoed, the Finland, manned by a civilian crew, and the Mount Vernon, manned by the Navy; but both were successfully navigated to port and repaired. The Tuscania and the Moldavia, sunk while carrying American troops to Europe, were British chartered vessels, as was also the Dwinsk, which was sunk while returning.

The first transport lost was the Antilles, October 17, 1917, two days out of Brest. Eleven days later the Finland was struck by a torpedo. In both cases there was loss of life and confusion among the civilian crews. After these experiences, it was decided to man all American troop-ships entirely by naval personnel; and it was not until May 31st that another was lost.

Returning to America, in company with the Susquehanna, Antigone and Rijndam, the President Lincoln (Commander P. W. Foote), was steaming along, 500 miles from land. At 9 o'clock a terrific explosion occurred on the port side of the Lincoln, 120 feet from the bow. In an instant there was another explosion in the after part of the vessel. The ship had been struck by three torpedoes, fired in a salvo from a submarine. Two struck together near the bow, the other near the stern. Officers and lookouts had sighted the wakes, but the torpedoes were so close that it was impossible to avoid them.

There were 715 persons on board, including 30 officers and men of the army, a number of whom were sick, two helpless from paralysis. It was realized that the vessel could not long remain afloat, but there was no confusion. Crew and passengers coolly waited for and obeyed orders. Boats were lowered and life-rafts placed in the water. Fifteen minutes after the torpedoes struck, all hands except the guns'-crews were ordered to abandon the ship.

Gunners stood at their stations, awaiting any opportunity for a shot at the submarine. Commander Foote and several other officers remained aboard. All the rest of the ship's company were in the boats or on the rafts. When the guns began firing, they broke into cheers. The firing was kept up until the water covered the main deck, and the gunners did not leave their posts until they were ordered off just before the ship sank.

With her colors flying, twenty-five minutes after the torpedoes exploded, the Lincoln went down. Three officers and 23 men were lost. Seven working below decks were either killed by the explosion, or drowned by the inrush of water. Sixteen men on a raft alongside were caught by the current and carried under as the ship went down. The officers lost were Passed Assistant Surgeon L. C. Whiteside, the ship's medical officer; Paymaster Andrew Mowat, the supply officer, and Assistant Paymaster J. D. Johnson. Dr. Whiteside and Paymaster Mowat had seen that the men under their charge had gotten away safely, the doctor having attended to placing the sick in the boat provided for them. Paymaster Johnson was on the raft which was pulled down as the ship plunged.

Admiral Sims cabled that the "small loss of life is due to thorough discipline of ship's company, and excellent seamanship of Commander Foote." This he said was "evidenced by actual results even after the ship had sunk and the personnel was adrift in boats and on rafts." Admiral Gleaves wrote to Foote: "Your action and judgment under such trying conditions were in accord with the best traditions of the service." Half an hour after the ship went down a large submarine emerged, and went among the boats and rafts, seeking the commander and other senior officers, whom they wished to take prisoners. The Germans could identify only one officer, Lieutenant Edouard Victor M. Isaacs, who was taken on board and carried away. The submarine—it was the U-90,—remained in the vicinity for two hours, and returned again in the afternoon, evidently seeking to attack other vessels of the convoy. But they were far away, having, in accordance with standard instructions to avoid attack, put on all steam and left the scene as soon as the Lincoln was hit.

The U-boat was so menacing that some feared it would fire upon the life-craft. When several of the crew went to its gun, apparently preparing it for action, a man in one of the boats exclaimed: "Good night! Here come the fireworks!"

By dark the boats and rafts had been lashed together. Lighted lanterns were hoisted and flares and signal lights burned every few minutes. None knew when aid would arrive. Distress signals had been sent out, but the nearest destroyers were 250 miles away, protecting another convoy. Military necessity might prevent their being detached.

Five hundred miles from land, waiting for aid until far in the night, the men cheered and sang such songs as "Over There," "Keep the Home Fires Burning," "Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here," and "Where do we go from here, boys?" At 11 p. m. the destroyers Smith (Lieutenant Commander Kenyon) and Warrington (Lieutenant Commander Klein) arrived. With only the wireless distress message sent at 9 a. m. to guide them, they had located the life-craft in the middle of the night, though boats and rafts had drifted 15 miles. The hundreds of survivors were taken aboard the destroyers, which remained until daylight to search for survivors, departing at 6 a. m.

Though their decks were crowded with the Lincoln's officers and men, the Smith and Warrington made a fast run to Brest, arriving there next day. En route they sighted the wake of a periscope and rained depth-bombs on the very submarine which had sunk the Lincoln, but by descending to a great depth the U-90 escaped.

From the painting by Frank Dana Marsh

THE SINKING OF THE PRESIDENT LINCOLN

The U. S. S. President Lincoln, commanded by Captain P. W. Foote, was one of the two vessels of the Cruiser and Transport Force which were sunk by submarines. She was lost on May 31, 1917, going down with colors flying twenty-five minutes after the torpedoes struck her. Of the 715 persons on board, all but 26 were saved.

THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY WITH CAPTAIN DISMUKES AND THE MEN WHO SAVED THE MOUNT VERNON

THE MOUNT VERNON, FORMERLY THE GERMAN LINER KRONPRINZESSIN CECILIE, SAFELY IN PORT AFTER BEING TORPEDOED, SEPTEMBER 5, 1918.

That it was the same U-boat was learned positively when, months afterward, Lieutenant Isaacs escaped from prison. His experiences aboard the submarine and in Germany make a thrilling story. Describing his capture, after the sinking of the Lincoln, and his being taken aboard the U-boat, Lieutenant Isaacs said:

We passed north of the Shetlands into the North Sea, the Skagerrak, the Cattegat, and the Sound into the Baltic. Proceeding to Kiel, we passed down the canal through Heligoland Bight to Wilhelmshaven.

On the way to the Shetlands we fell in with two American destroyers, the Smith and the Warrington, who dropped 22 depth bombs on us. We were submerged to a depth of 60 meters and weathered the storm, although five bombs were very close and shook us up considerably. The information I had been able to collect was, I considered, of enough importance to warrant my trying to escape. Accordingly in Danish waters I attempted to jump from the deck of the submarine, but was caught and ordered below.

The German Navy authorities took me from Wilhelmshaven to Karlsruhe, where I was turned over to the army. Here I met officers of all the Allied armies, and with them I attempted several escapes, all of which were unsuccessful. After three weeks at Karlsruhe I was sent to the American and Russian officers' camp at Villingen. On the way I attempted to escape from the train by jumping out of the window. With the train making about 40 miles an hour, I landed on the opposite railroad track and was so severely wounded by the fall that I could not get away from my guard. They followed me, firing continuously. When they recaptured me they struck me on the head and body with their guns until one broke his rifle. It snapped in two at the small of the stock as he struck me with the butt on the back of the head.

I was given two weeks solitary confinement, for this attempt to escape, but continued trying, for I was determined to get my information back to the Navy. Finally, on the night of October 6, assisted by several American Army officers, I was able to effect an escape by short-circuiting all lighting circuits in the prison camp and cutting through barbed-wire fences surrounding the camp. This had to be done in the face of a heavy rifle fire from the guards. But it was difficult for them to see in the darkness, so I escaped unscathed.

In company with an American officer in the French Army, I made my way for seven days and nights over mountains to the Rhine, which to the south of Baden forms the boundary between Germany and Switzerland. After a four-hour crawl on hands and knees I was able to elude the sentries along the Rhine. Plunging in, I made for the Swiss shore. After being carried several miles down the stream, being frequently submerged by the rapid current, I finally reached the opposite shore and gave myself up to the Swiss gendarmes, who turned me over to the American legation at Berne. From there I made my way to Paris and then London and finally Washington, where I arrived four weeks after my escape from Germany.

It was my pleasure to greet Lieutenant Isaacs on his return, congratulate him on his escape, and commend him for the heroic courage and enterprise he had displayed under such trying circumstances.

The Covington (Captain R. D. Hasbrouck) was torpedoed July 1st at 9:15 p. m., the torpedo smashing a hole in the vessel's side and throwing into the air a column of water higher than the smokestacks. Engine and fire rooms quickly filled, the ship lost headway rapidly and in fifteen minutes lay dead in the water.

Listing heavily to port, it was feared the vessel might take a lurch and sink suddenly. Twenty-one boats were lowered, three had been smashed by the explosion. "Abandon ship," was ordered. The bugle sounded "Silence," and silently the men went down the Jacob's ladders as if they were at drill. The destroyer Smith stood close by, taking the men from the boats. Thirty officers and men remained aboard with the Captain until an hour after the torpedo struck.

Hoping to save the transport, a salvage party was organized, to go on board as soon as the men could be collected from rafts and boats. The little Smith, which in addition to its own crew of one hundred, had aboard 800 of the Covington's officers and men, encircled the transport to keep off the submarine and prevent it from firing another torpedo.

Another destroyer, the Reade, came to the rescue; at 4:20 a. m. the British salvage tugs, Revenger and Woonda arrived, and at 5:30 o'clock the American tug Concord reached the scene. The Smith, which was ordered to take to port all the crew not needed, at 5:20 left for Brest. By 6 o'clock the three tugs had the Covington in tow, and were making from five to six knots through the water. Two more destroyers joined shortly after to guard the crippled ship from attack. She was then listed about twenty degrees to port, and about noon took a quick list of ten degrees more.

By 1:30 p. m. she had heeled to an angle of 45 degrees. Sensing sinking conditions, the working party was directed to leave the ship, the Nicholson taking them off. At 2:30 the Covington began to sink rapidly by the stern and disappeared two minutes later. The ship went down with her colors flying.

The only fighting ship of the Cruiser and Transport Force that was sunk—in fact, the only large United States naval vessel lost during the war—was the armored cruiser San Diego (Captain H. H. Christy) sunk by a mine off Fire Island, N. Y., July 19, 1918.

Proceeding from Portsmouth, N. H., to New York, the cruiser was steering what was regarded as a safe course to avoid the submarines, then operating in Atlantic waters, and the mines they had laid. Lookouts, gun-watches, fire control parties were at their stations, the whole crew on the alert. There was no sign of any U-boat or mine.

Suddenly, at 11:05 a. m., there was an explosion at frame No. 78, on the port side well below the water line. "Full speed ahead," was rung by the Captain, who hoped the ship could be kept afloat, and the starboard engine operated until it was stopped by rising water.

Machinist's Mate Hawthorne, who was at the throttle in the port engine room, was blown four feet under a desk. He got up, closed the throttle on the engine, which had already stopped, and then escaped up the ladder. The lieutenant on watch in the starboard engine room, closed the water tight doors, and gave instructions to the fireroom to protect the boilers.

The vessel listed to port so heavily that water entered the gun ports on the gun deck. Listing 8 degrees quickly, the vessel hung for seven minutes; then gradually turned until 35 degrees was reached. At this time the port quarter-deck was three feet under water. The cruiser then rapidly turned turtle and sank.

Captain Christy was last to leave the ship. Going from the bridge down two ladders to the boat deck, he slid down a line to the armor belt, then dropped four feet to the bilge keel, and thence to the docking keel. From there he jumped into the water. The men cheered their captain as he left the ship. On the rafts they sang "The Star Spangled Banner" and "My Country 'Tis of Thee," and more cheers arose when the United States ensign was hoisted on the sailboat.

Two dinghies with six officers and twenty-one men pulled to shore, arriving at 1:20 p. m. The steamer Malden picked up 370 officers and men, the Bossom 708; the E. P. Jones 78. Six men were lost, three of these being killed by the explosion. The court of inquiry reported that "the conduct of the Captain, officers and crew was in the highest degree commendable," and that "the remarkably small loss of life was due to the high state of discipline maintained on board."

This was the last loss sustained by the Cruiser and Transport Force until September 5th. Then the troop-ship Mt. Vernon (Captain D. E. Dismukes) was torpedoed, but by splendid seamanship was taken to port under her own steam. The Mt. Vernon, homeward bound, was 250 miles from the coast of France when she was struck. The explosion was so terrific that for an instant it seemed that the ship was lifted clear out of the water and torn to pieces. Men at the after guns and depth-charge stations were thrown to the deck, and one gun thrown partly out of its mount. The torpedo struck fairly amidship, destroying four of the eight boiler-rooms and flooding the middle portion of the vessel from side to side for a length of 150 feet. The vessel instantly settled 10 feet increase in draft, but stopped there. This indicated that the water-tight bulkheads were holding, and she could still afford to go down two or three feet more before she would lose her floating buoyancy. The immediate problem was to escape a second torpedo. Depth-charge crews jumped to their stations, and started dropping a depth-bomb barrage.

Men in the firerooms knew that the safety of the ship depended on them. The shock of the explosion, followed by instant darkness, falling soot and particles; the knowledge that they were far below the water level inclosed practically in a trap; the imminent danger of the ship sinking, the added threat of exploding boilers—all these dangers and more must have been apparent to every man below, said Captain Dismukes, and yet not one man wavered in standing by his post of duty.

C. L. O'Connor, water tender, was thrown to the floor and enveloped in gas flames from the furnaces. Instead of rushing to escape, he turned and endeavored to shut a water-tight door leading into a large bunker abaft the fireroom, but the hydraulic lever that operated the door had been damaged and failed to function. Three men at work in this bunker were drowned. If O'Connor had succeeded in shutting the door, all would have been saved. Caught in the swirl of inrushing water, O'Connor was thrust up a ventilator leading to the upper deck.

The torpedo exploded on a bulkhead separating two firerooms, the explosive effect being apparently about equal in both firerooms, yet in one fireroom not a man was saved, while in the other two of the men escaped. The explosion blasted through the outer and inner skin of the ship and through an intervening coal bunker and bulkhead, hurling overboard 750 tons of coal. The two men saved were working the fires within 30 feet of the explosion and just below the level where the torpedo struck. How they escaped is a miracle. One of the men, P. Fitzgerald, landed on the lower grating. Groping his way through the darkness, trying to find the ladder leading above, he stumbled over the body of a man apparently dead. Finding he was only unconscious, Fitzgerald aroused him and took him to safety. The man would have been lost, for the water rose 10 feet above this grating as the ship settled.

Shortly after the Mt. Vernon arrived at Brest, Captain Dismukes received this letter from Brigadier General George H. Harries, U. S. A.:

Sorrow mingled with pride, for those who died so nobly. Congratulations on the seamanship, discipline and courage. It was a great feat you accomplished.

Passengers whom I have seen this morning are unable to fully or fitly voice their praises of your always worthy self or of your ship's company.

The best traditions of our Navy have been lifted to a higher plane. What a fine thing it is to be an American these days!

The olive drab salutes the blue.

Every American vessel available was pressed into service to bring the troops home after the war.

Fifty-six cargo vessels were converted into troop-carriers. Nine of the German vessels turned over under the armistice were assigned to us—the Imperator, Kaiserin Augusta Victoria, Prinz Friedrich Wilhelm, Zeppelin, Cap Finisterre, Graf Waldersee, Patricia, Pretoria, and Mobile. The capacity of all our transports was considerably increased.

But more was needed, and I gave orders to use our old battleships and cruisers to carry troops. Naval officers objected, saying these warships were not fitted for such duty. I was told the soldiers on board would be uncomfortable, and would return home with a grouch against the Government and the Navy. What happened? Army officers and men were glad of the chance to come home on a warship. It was an experience no other soldiers had enjoyed. Once aboard, they fell to and made themselves thoroughly at home. Upon the arrival at Hampton Roads of the first battleship bringing troops, the Army officers sent me a letter of thanks for the fine voyage and the opportunity to return on a naval vessel, and later other officers expressed themselves in similar fashion.

In a few months we had in operation 142 vessels carrying troops with facilities for 363,684 officers and men. The maximum was reached in June, when 340,946 embarked from France, 314,167 of them in United States transports. This exceeded the largest number carried overseas by all American and Allied vessels in any one month during the war. By the end of July, 1919, 1,770,484 men had been returned to America. The big troop movement was virtually over by October 1st, at which time nearly two million had been returned, 1,675,733 of them in naval transports. Several thousands more came later, and 11,211 had returned previous to the armistice.

The record of the ten leading vessels of the Cruiser and Transport Force, in troops carried to Europe and passengers and sick and wounded returned, was:

These ships also brought back 2,366 passengers before the armistice, which are included in the total numbers carried.

The other vessels used in transporting to France, as well as returning troops were:

The battleships and cruisers employed in troop transportation brought back more than 145,000 men, as follows:

Battleships—Connecticut, 4,861; Georgia, 5,869; Kansas, 7,486; Louisiana, 4,714; Michigan, 1,052; Minnesota, 3,955; Missouri, 3,278; Nebraska, 4,530; New Hampshire, 4,900; New Jersey, 4,675; Ohio, 778; Rhode Island, 5,303; South Carolina, 4,501; Vermont, 4,795; Virginia, 5,784; total, 66,481.

Cruisers—Charleston, 7,704; Frederick, 9,659; Huntington, 11,913; Montana, 8,800; North Carolina, 8,962; Pueblo, 10,136; Rochester, 317; Seattle, 9,397; South Dakota, 3,463; St. Louis, 8,437; total, 78,788.

Merchant ships converted into troop-carriers, and used in bringing soldiers home were:

These converted cargo ships brought 441,986 passengers, 10,452 wounded; total 452,438. The nine German passenger ships employed after the armistice brought back 138,928.

When the troop movement was near its close, in September, 1918, Admiral Gleaves, who had been in charge from the beginning, was made commander-in-chief of the Asiatic fleet. He was succeeded by Captain C. B. Morgan. The Cruiser and Transport Force, which at its maximum comprised a fleet of 142 vessels, of 2,341,038 tons displacement, carried across the Atlantic, going to or returning from Europe, approximately 2,600,000 persons. And this without the loss, through navigation or enemy action, of any soldier entrusted to its care.

CHAPTER IX
THE FLEET THE KAISER BUILT FOR US

EX-GERMAN VESSELS CARRIED 557,000 AMERICAN TROOPS TO EUROPE—ENGINES AND MACHINERY WRECKED BY THEIR CREWS, GERMANS BELIEVED THEY COULD NEVER BE USED—NAVY REPAIRED LINERS, AND HAD ALL RUNNING IN TRANSPORT SERVICE IN A FEW MONTHS—TRIUMPH OF AMERICAN GENIUS AND ENGINEERING SKILL—REMARKABLE RECORD MADE BY "LEVIATHAN."

More than half a million of the troops that defeated the Germans were transported across the Atlantic in German vessels. I sometimes wonder if the Kaiser ever dreamed, when his liners came scurrying into American ports in 1914, that he was presenting us with the one thing we needed most, a lot of the finest transports that ever sailed the sea.

That could not happen according to the Teuton mind. They had figured it all out. If America kept out of the conflict, their ships would be as safe here as in their home ports. If we did enter the war, they would be so badly damaged that we could not use them. This was all carried out according to schedule. Before ruthless U-boat warfare was declared, Bernstorff had issued his orders, and all the interned vessels were disabled, their engines and machinery smashed.

"Some you may get running in a year; some you can never use," boasted the German crews.

"If America can repair this ship, I will eat my hat," said another. He has not yet tested his digestion by a diet of headgear.

But they, like the Kaiser and Admiral Von Holtzendorff, underestimated American ingenuity and enterprise. By using new methods, and keeping at the task day and night, in a few months all these vessels were repaired and in service, carrying troops and supplies.

The German Vaterland, re-christened the Leviathan, alone carried nearly a hundred thousand troops to Europe. When she was performing such prodigies for us it interested me to recall an occurrence when this great vessel, the largest afloat, reached New York on its first voyage, not long before the war began in 1914. Glorying in the attention it evoked, the Vaterland's officers gave a dinner, inviting leading American shipbuilders and engineers, as well as prominent citizens, to view this latest creation in marine construction.

"It is a veritable floating palace for voyagers to Europe," remarked one of its officers, "but that is not the best or most important thing about the Vaterland."

"Well, what is it?" asked the visitors.

"Come below," said he, "and I will show you."

Below went the party, and there they were shown how the whole vessel had been planned so that it could quickly be converted into a carrier for 10,000 soldiers. "In a remarkably short time, if need arises," the officer remarked, "it can be turned into a troop transport."

He was right. We proved it in 1917, not only in regard to the Vaterland, but the other Teuton liners.

Repaired, renamed, manned and operated by United States naval officers and men, those former German vessels carried to Europe 557,788 American soldiers. Here is the record in detail:

The repair of those vessels was a triumph of ingenuity and engineering skill. But they were not the only interned ships the Navy restored. When war was declared there were seized German merchant vessels aggregating 592,195 gross tons, Austrian ships, 40,461 tons—a total of 632,656 tons of shipping placed under the United States flag from these two sources.

The machinery was so badly damaged that those in charge had practically decided that new cylinders and various other parts would have to be manufactured and installed. This would have caused many months' delay. Captain E. P. Jessop, engineering officer of the New York Navy Yard, who had been acting as advisory officer in connection with these ships before they were turned over to the Navy, was confident that the most serious breaks could be repaired by electric welding. Rear Admiral Burd, industrial manager of the New York Yard, was of the same opinion, as were engineering experts in the Navy Department. But there was doubt among other engineers, and strong opposition to the new method. The vessels were then under control of the Shipping Board, but it was expected that those to be used as troop-ships would be assigned to the Navy. Anticipating such action, Admiral Griffin, Chief of the Bureau of Engineering, in June sent his assistant, Captain O. W. Koester, to New York to make a thorough investigation. He returned convinced that repairs could be successfully made by electric welding, and this process was immediately adopted.

Sixteen of these vessels were turned over to the Navy on July 11, 1917. Work was begun the next morning. Cylinders had been broken, throttle and engine valves destroyed, pipes cut, fittings smashed. Parts easily removable had been thrown away. The German crews had done all they could to put the ships out of business. Memorandums found aboard bore the frequent comment, "Cannot be repaired." There were serious injuries that had been carefully concealed, evidently with the idea of disabling the vessels if they ever got to sea. Important parts were cut in half, then replaced so the cut would not be discovered. Obstructions were placed in cylinders to wreck the engines as soon as steam was turned on. Every inch of the machinery had to be examined inside and out. The fact that nothing escaped detection is evidence of the thoroughness with which the work was done.

The Barbarossa, which we renamed the Mercury, was the first ship repaired by the new welding process. Given a sea trial of 48 hours, she was put to every imaginable test. The results proved satisfactory in every particular. On all the other vessels, virtually the same methods were used—electric or oxy-acetylene welding, mechanical patching, and at times a combination of these. Each ship was, upon completion, tested by long runs at sea, so that no doubt might exist as to the safety of the troops they were to carry. It is noteworthy that no weakness ever developed in the engines so repaired.

Of the 103 German and Austrian vessels seized, the Navy converted 34 into troop and freight transports. Subsequently it repaired 20 more for the Shipping Board.

To build new cylinders, replace burned-out boilers and other machinery, would have required at least a year, perhaps more, it was estimated. By using new methods, the Navy quickly restored the ships assigned to it. In a few months all were in service—and some of them were running at higher speed than the Germans had ever been able to attain.

Twelve months in time was saved, during which these vessels transported hundreds of thousands of troops. The entire saving was estimated at more than $20,000,000.

Until the United States declared war, these vessels were, under strict interpretation of international law, not liable to seizure. They could not leave our ports, but the crews remained aboard and, though under constant surveillance to prevent unneutral acts, they caused the American authorities considerable trouble. There were nine German liners at their piers in Hoboken when Germany declared war. All had been ordered not to sail. Being a part of the German Naval Reserve, they were subject to the orders of the German Admiralty. The Vaterland was scheduled to sail that day, having booked some 3,600 passengers. Angry crowds who had purchased tickets stormed the piers, and extra guards had to be placed around the vessel. German crews held a mass-meeting in Hoboken, discussing mainly how they could get back to Germany. Ten thousand reservists on August 6th demanded of the German Consul that he send them back on the Vaterland to rejoin their regiments. But not one of those vessels ever escaped from American ports.

Their crews, however, were always seeking to help Germany and injure the Allies. Most of their plots and plans were foiled, though they did succeed, now and then, in "putting something over." The Grosser Kurfurst (Aeolus) was, we found later, used as a sort of "clearing ship" for German officers in this country. They had secret orders to go aboard her and stay until arrangements could be made for them to travel aboard outbound steamers. Disguised, often carrying forged or illegally-obtained passports, some of them managed to get to Germany. The captain of the Aeolus, its chief engineer and purser were among those who successfully ran the British blockade. Given command of a Zeppelin, the captain took part in several airship raids, but was brought down and killed near London. When news of his death came, the flags on all the German interned ships were placed at half-mast.

When the ship-bomb conspiracy was unearthed—the scheme to place explosives in cargoes, timed to go off and sink vessels when they were far out at sea—it was found that men on board the Friedrich der Grosse (Huron) had been making parts of these bombs, which were assembled at a plant in Hoboken. This plot, however, was nipped in the bud. The sailors and others involved were promptly arrested, tried, convicted, and sent to jail.

When the Lusitania was sunk in 1915 the German sailors held a celebration. Thinking war with the United States was imminent, they prepared to destroy the ships, only waiting for the word to carry out the orders previously given them. This was, again, the case in 1916, when we came so near war after the sinking of the Sussex. But the orders did not finally come until January 31, 1917, when, obeying Ambassador Bernstorff's instructions, they smashed the machinery of the vessels.

They regarded it as a huge joke when, on the morning of April 1st, a naval vessel anchored off Pier 2, and set watch over them. But they laughed on the other side of their mouths when, four days later, United States officials rounded up officers and men, and sent them to Fort Oglethorpe, Ga., and other Federal prisons and internment camps.

The Vaterland was taken over at 4 a. m., April 5th. On that day the United States armed forces seized 91 German ships in various ports. The night before, U. S. Government officials held a conference on the Vaterland with the German commanders, who were warned against any violence. There was no resistance when the ships were seized.

The Vaterland, with a displacement of 69,000 tons, was the biggest craft afloat. There was no drydock in America large enough to hold her. When the engineering officers reported to Captain J. W. Oman, her commander, that the former Vaterland (she had been renamed the Leviathan) was "in all respects ready for sea," it was decided to test her out by a longer run than that to which any other vessel had been subjected, making a trial trip to Cuba.

On her return, the ship was carefully gone over again, every part put in prime condition, and on December 15, 1917, in a snowstorm, she sailed on her first trip across the Atlantic. The ship's complement was 68 officers and 2,240 men. She had aboard 7,254 troops, including base hospitals 31 and 34, the 163rd and 164th Infantry, and headquarters of the 82nd Brigade, Brigadier General Edward Vellruth commanding.

Running for the first day or two at 20 knots, the ship then speeded up to 21-1/2 knots. The Leviathan had "struck her gait." She made the run across in record time. In describing this voyage, the "History of the Leviathan" says:

On the morning of December 23rd, at 4 a. m., out of the black sky, just before dawn and in a heavy sea with a strong wind blowing, a small white wake was seen by the lookout on the bridge. At first it was taken for the wake of a periscope and the gun crews were called to quarters, then as the guns were trained on it, a small white flash was seen blinking the American recognition signal, and we then knew that it was one of our destroyers. We picked them up out of the black sky and a heavy sea until there were seven little wasps that spelled danger to the Hun submarine. They sped along with us while we zigzagged in and out on our course. They crossed our bow and ran in and far out on each side of us, always looking for the "sub" that might be lying in wait for us. Their motto was, "Go get 'em." They never waited for a "sub" to attack first, they always started the fight provided that "Fritz" was willing to show himself; and we want to say right here that he was very reluctant to do so when an American destroyer showed itself.

That night the Leviathan dropped anchor outside Liverpool, proceeding next morning, Dec. 24th, to the landing-stage, where the soldiers disembarked. The ship had to be sent into drydock to have her bottom thoroughly scraped and cleaned. Three years in disuse, she was covered with barnacles, and even oysters were found attached to her keel. The Gladstone Dock at Liverpool was the only drydock outside of Germany which would accommodate her. Even then, she had to wait more than two weeks for a tide high enough to float her in. Docking was completed successfully, but there was considerable delay before the big boat could get away, and it was not until Lincoln's birthday that she started back for America, reaching New York Feb. 19th. On her second trip, sailing March 4, 1918, the Leviathan carried 8,242 troops, under command of Major General J. T. Dickman. Liverpool was again the destination and she arrived there March 12th. Going up St. George's channel, there was considerable excitement when the destroyer Manley, head of the escort, sighting signs that led her to believe a submarine was near, swerved out of position, and began firing. One depth-bomb it dropped shook the Leviathan from stern to stern, and many persons aboard thought she had struck a mine. But she got in safely, and soon landed all her troops.

Low water again held the Leviathan in port for weeks, and it was not until April 10th, that she was able to sail. This was the last time she was sent to Liverpool. Thereafter, she went direct to Brest, and there were no more delays. In fact, on the third trip, when she carried 8,909 soldiers, under command of Brigadier General Walter H. Gordon, she disembarked her troops, took aboard 4,600 tons of coal, and the third evening after her arrival was on the way back to New York.

The Leviathan was so big a target and the German eagerness to sink her was so well known that there was at first opposition to the use of this big vessel as a troop-ship, and Admiral Sims wrote to me on November 2, 1917:

I have previously reported against using the Vaterland for the present until we have a little more experience in handling the other large transports. The Vaterland is, of course, a much larger target, and injury to her would be a serious affair. I am assuming too that all of the troops that we have to transport for the next few months can be accommodated in other transports, assisted by British liners. Whenever the situation becomes pressing, I presume we shall have to use the Vaterland and take the additional risk.

We did use the former Vaterland with such success that during all the war she was never touched by the enemy; but the fears entertained of attack on this biggest transport afloat were justified. On the fourth voyage, when in sight of the coast, May 30, 1918, the Leviathan recorded her first encounter with a submarine, following being the entry in the ship's log:

12:29 p. m.—Sighted submarine pursuing us on our port quarter about 1,500 yards distant. Ordered full speed, 165 revolutions. Opened fire with Number Six and Number Eight guns, three shots. Stopped zigzagging. Changed course 12:40 p. m.

12:59 p. m.—Submarine appeared again. Opened fire with Number Six and Number Eight guns. Nine shots.

1:19 p. m.—Submarine appeared again. Opened fire with Number Six and Number Eight guns. Seven shots.

1:34 p. m.—Threw in maneuvering combination. Standard speed 112 revolutions.

1:45 p. m.—Entering harbor at various courses and speeds.

Of this attack, the Leviathan History says:

The coolness of our commanding officer, Captain H. F. Bryan, and the splendid coördination of the entire crew were so perfect, that only three distinct orders were issued in this moment of peril as follows: 1. Hold your course. 2. Open fire on submarine, port quarter. 3. Sound General Alarm.

Every shot fired was greeted by cheers and shouts of encouragement from the enthusiastic soldiers on the decks, who crowded to favorable positions to witness the accurate firing of our gun-crews. The Army nurses left their luncheon to take a peek at the "fun," and their calmness and enthusiasm in the face of a deadly menace were an inspiration to the sailors manning the big guns.

Sailing the afternoon of June 1st, accompanied by the destroyers Nicholson and Wadsworth, at 7:16 o'clock a periscope wake was sighted on the starboard quarter. "Full speed ahead!" was rung, and the Leviathan sprang forward, a cloud of black smoke pouring from her funnels. Her guns began firing, and from the signal bridge floated the green-and-white submarine warning flag. The destroyers turned quickly and charged down the wake, laying a barrage of depth-bombs which shook the Leviathan, by that time nearly two miles away. The Nicholson's blinker lights flashed:

We saw periscope of submarine and laid barrage of depth-charges around the spot. Will report to Force Commander.

The Wadsworth then inspected the locality, but soon signaled, "We see no submarine now." A few minutes later both destroyers steamed up to the big vessel and resumed escort.

Twilight had come, and it was an impressive scene when the chaplain (always called the sky pilot), as was his daily custom, went to the navigation bridge and offered the sunset prayer at sea—a prayer for the safety of captain, officers and crew; for soldiers, passengers and all on board.

Making the most of her speed, the Leviathan traveled alone, except for man-of-war escort, until August. Then she was accompanied by the Great Northern and Northern Pacific, and these fast ships made several voyages together. After arrival from her eighth trip, Sept. 19th, Captain William W. Phelps became the Leviathan's commanding officer, succeeding Captain Bryan. In April, 1919, he was succeeded by Captain E. H. Durell.

There were rumors of peace when the Leviathan sailed on her tenth trip October 27th, and as the destroyers met her they signaled that all the German submarines in that area had been recalled October 21st. Arriving at Liverpool November 3rd, she landed her last load of troops going to the front. A week later, when she was in drydock undergoing repairs, the armistice was signed; the fighting was over. The Leviathan had transported to Europe 96,804 officers and men of the American Army. She had carried across 119,215 persons, including her crew and naval supernumeraries. She had carried on a single voyage as many as 10,860.

In returning the troops all war-time records were broken. On the sixteenth west-bound trip, there were on board, including the naval crew, 14,300 persons. The vessel brought home 93,746 soldiers. She carried to or from Europe, including naval personnel and passengers, over 200,000 persons.

Completed in 1914, the Leviathan made but one round trip under the German flag. She had just arrived in New York on her second voyage when war broke out in Europe. That was all the use the Germans ever got of this wonder of the seas, which cost millions to build and was the pride of Germany.

CHAPTER X
GUARDING THE COAST OF FRANCE

BREST THE CENTER OF GREAT SYSTEM UNDER COMMAND OF WILSON—PATROL SQUADRON SENT OVER IN JUNE, 1917—ARMED YACHTS AND DESTROYERS ENABLED TROOPS TO REACH PORTS SAFELY—"STEWART" PLOWED THROUGH BLAZING AMMUNITION TO RESCUE SURVIVORS OF "FLORENCE H."—WRESTLE WITH DEPTH-BOMB.

On the anniversary of the fall of the Bastille, the French national holiday, July 14, 1917, our naval forces began work with the French, whose vessels under DeGrasse had, 136 years before, given such signal aid to America in its struggle for liberty.

France was the center of American activities, military and naval, and our most important operations in Europe were in French waters. It was the vast system built up by the Navy, the splendid work of our armed yachts and destroyers and aircraft, which kept the sea lanes clear, protected transports, and enabled American troops and supplies to reach French ports in safety.

Sending naval vessels to France, and establishing bases were two of the first things considered by the Navy Department. They were discussed with the French mission, with Marshal Joffre and Admiral Chocheprat, when they reached Washington in April. They recommended Brest and Bordeaux as the principal ports to be used by the Americans, and we decided to establish bases there as well as at St. Nazaire, where our first troops landed.

Preparations were at once begun to send patrol craft, and for this purpose, the largest and best of American yachts, stripped of their luxurious fittings, were armed and converted into men-of-war. A special force was organized under command of Rear Admiral William B. Fletcher, and on June 9, the first of the "U. S. Patrol Squadrons Operating in European Waters," sailed from New York for France. In this group were the Noma, (Lieutenant Commander L. R. Leahy); Vedette, (Lieutenant Commander C. L. Hand); Christabel, (Lieutenant Commander H. B. Riebe); Kanawha, (Lieutenant Commander H. D. Cooke); Harvard, (Lieutenant Commander A. G. Stirling), and the Sultana, (Lieutenant Commander E. G. Allen). Proceeding by way of the Azores, they reached Brest July 3. Two speedier yachts, the Corsair (Lieutenant Commander T. A. Kittinger), and the Aphrodite (Lieutenant Commander R. P. Craft), sailed from New York with the first troop convoy June 14, reaching St. Nazaire June 27, and arriving at Brest July 2.

Protection of vessels carrying troops was the primary mission of our forces in France, and after that the storeships loaded with munitions, materials and supplies for the Army. But this was by no means all their work. They escorted convoys sailing from Verdon, vessels coming from Bordeaux, Pauillac and other points up the Gironde river; from Brest; from Quiberon Bay (St. Nazaire); ships of all kinds sailing along the coast of France, for England or southern ports.

With headquarters at Brest, where the American admiral had his offices next to those of the French Chief of the Brittany Patrol, Vice Admiral Schwerer, who acted directly under Vice Admiral Moreau, senior Allied naval officer, an organization was built up extending all along the French coast. Working in closest coöperation with the French, our forces were always under American command, first under Admiral Fletcher, and then under Admiral Henry B. Wilson, who succeeded him on Nov. 1, 1917.

Captain T. P. Magruder was made senior naval officer at Lorient, with a division of mine-sweepers to keep clear the approaches to St. Nazaire. Captain N. A. McCully commanded the Rochefort district, which extended from the Lorient line to the Spanish coast. Six yachts were based at Rochefort, to give prompt service to convoys entering the Gironde River, for Bordeaux or Pauillac. The Brest district, from Cape Brehat to Penmarch Point, was in command of Captain H. H. Hough, and the Cherbourg district, north of this, was assigned to Commander David Boyd. Naval port officers, stationed at Brest, Havre, Cherbourg, Rouen, St. Malo, Granville, St. Nazaire, Nantes, Quiberon Bay, Sables d' Olonne, Bordeaux, La Pallice, Rochefort, Royan, Verdon, Pauillac and St. Jean de Luz, kept in touch with Army officials and shipmasters, expediting dispatch of vessels and the flow of transportation and commerce. Military and naval officers pulled together with a will, and the saying was: "There is no Army and Navy at Brest. It's all one gang!"

From Brest radiated lines of command, communication, and coöperation—to our own forces, and the French naval commanders on the coast; our naval representatives and naval attaché in Paris, and the French Ministry of Marine; through the superintendent of ports and coding officer to Army officials, those in charge of troops and supply transport; to the Chief of Aviation and the American and French air forces; and to U. S. Naval Headquarters in London.

The development of this organization brought such success in anti-submarine operations as the French coast had never known, changing the entire situation in these waters, not only for our vessels but for all Allied shipping. Here is a chart record of vessels sunk by submarines on the west coast of France for six months and it tells the story:

Describing an evening with Admiral Wilson, Reginald Wright Kauffman wrote:

The Admiral and his staff sleep in rooms just below their office. That is, they say they sleep. I asked the Admiral's orderly if he had ever seen him in bed, and he said, "No, sir."

The Admiral, after a long day's work, spoke of how good it was to draw his chair close to the open fire. One of the three guests had to leave early, because, although he is our host's nephew, he had volunteered as a common seaman and had to be aboard ship betimes. That orderly of the commander, a Lehigh graduate with six months' experience of the service, muttered in the hall:

"This is the most democratic Navy I ever saw; an Admiral helping a gob on with his coat!"

That intimate view of Admiral Wilson shows the side of his character which makes officers and men love him. Strict in discipline, firm in administration, a master of his profession, he illustrates the military truth that he is the greatest officer who is the best shipmate. It was this combination of qualities which enabled him to do the big job in France, where he was beloved and honored by the French as well as the Americans.

What Mr. Kauffman described at Brest was characteristic of our Navy in the war, as it was of our crews on the French coast. In one gun's crew a young New York millionaire served with a former mechanic and an erstwhile clerk from the East Side. In the crew of a yacht was a Philadelphia policeman and a Texas ranger; the first boatswain's mate had his sheepskin from Cornell; there was a Lehigh senior in the forecastle and a Harvard post-graduate assisting in the radio room. Several young men served as sailors on ships their fathers owned, and had turned over to the Government for war use.

They were nearly all reservists or recent recruits, the crews of the armed yachts and sub-chasers. But they put it over like veterans, and took things as they came. And they had some lively brushes with the "subs."

The yachts got a taste of U-boat warfare on the way over. The Corsair was with the troop-ships when the group she was escorting was attacked by submarines. Nearing the French coast on July 2, the Noma sighted a periscope, and with the Kanawha circled the vicinity for some time, but without result. The next evening the Sultana, which was somewhat behind the other yachts, arrived at Brest, bringing 37 of the crew and 13 of the armed guard of the American steamship Orleans, which had been sunk, apparently by the same submarine which had been sighted by the Noma.

The day after they began patrol duty, the Harvard brought into port 59 survivors picked up from two British ships that had been torpedoed. A torpedo was fired at the Noma on July 19, and on August 8th she took part in a fight between a noted British decoy-ship—"Q-boats," they were called—and a submarine in the Bay of Biscay.

"SOS," came the distress call from the Dunraven, "Shelled by submarine." The Noma had just finished repairing one of her boilers, but she put on all steam and headed for the scene. As she came up, the vessel, torpedoed, seemed to be sinking. The submarine, which was close to the steamer, was still shelling her. The Noma headed for the U-boat, attempting to ram her, but she submerged and the yacht dropped depth-bombs around the spot. Then she turned attention to the Dunraven. This decoy ship, commanded by Captain Gordon Campbell, most noted of "Q-boat" captains, had pursued its usual tactics when the "sub" was sighted, part of the crew, disguised as merchant sailors, taking to the lifeboats, leaving hidden aboard the gunners ready to fire shells or torpedo when the submarine ventured nearer. But this time the U-boat got the best of it. One of its shells struck the steamer and blew up a depth-bomb. Two more shots landed, and set the ship afire. The flames swept down to where ammunition, shells and torpedoes were piled, and they exploded, hurling gun and gun-crew into the air.

Then came the torpedo, which as it hit the ship caused another big explosion. But the Dunraven fought on, and it was only after she had fired two torpedoes at the "sub," and many of her crew were wounded, that she sent out the distress call.

The "sub" driven off, the Noma circled the vicinity, keeping a sharp lookout for the enemy. Two British destroyers arrived shortly afterward, and with the Noma rescued the decoy-ship's crew. One of them, the Christopher, took the Dunraven in tow, the Noma acting as escort until the next day, when she was relieved by a French destroyer. But the Dunraven was too badly damaged to remain afloat, and sank before she reached port.

Our forces in French waters were reinforced in August and September by nineteen more vessels, these being:

Second Patrol Division, Commander F. N. Freeman—Alcedo, (Lieutenant Commander W. T. Conn); Remlik, (Lieutenant Commander I. C. Johnson); Wanderer, (Lieutenant Commander P. L. Wilson); Guinevere, (Lieutenant Commander Guy Davis); Corona, (Lieutenant Commander L. M. Stevens); Carola, (Lieutenant Commander H. R. Keller); and the Emeline, (Lieutenant Commander R. C. Williams).

Third Division, Captain T. P. Magruder—Wakiva, (Lieutenant Commander T. R. Kurtz), armed yacht; Anderton, (Boatswain H. Miller); Cahill, (Lieutenant A. E. Wills); Rehoboth and McNeal, (Lieutenant C. N. Hinkamp); the Lewes, James, Douglas, Bauman, Courtney, and Hinton, (Lieutenant A. McGlasson), mine-sweepers; Bath, supply ship.

Sixteen American-built submarine chasers, which we had turned over to the French Government, also arrived in September, and began patrol off the French coast, and soon afterward the yachts Nokomis, (Commander D. Boyd); May, (Commander F. T. Evans), and Rambler, (Lieutenant E. G. Rose) and the mine-sweeper Hubbard were added to our force at Brest.

All along the French coast and in the Bay of Biscay our vessels were kept busy, escorting convoys, troop and cargo ships and hunting U-boats. This was done so effectively that we had no loss until October, when a mine-sweeper, the Rehoboth, foundered, the Army transport Antilles and the yacht Alcedo were sunk, and the Finland torpedoed.

Two days out from Quiberon Bay, on October 17th, the Antilles, bound for America, was proceeding with the Henderson and Willehad, escorted by the Corsair and Alcedo, when she was struck by a torpedo. Shivering from stern to stern, she listed immediately to port and began to sink. One of the lookouts in the main-top was thrown clear over the five-foot canvas screen, and killed as he struck a hatch. Everyone in the engine-room was killed or disabled except one oiler, who crawled through the skylight just as the ship went down. Of the 21 men in the engine and firerooms, only three survived—the oiler, and two firemen who escaped through a ventilator.

Commander Daniel T. Ghent, senior naval officer on board, gave the order to abandon ship. Boats were lowered, distress signals sent out. Guns were manned in the hope of getting a shot at the submarine. There the gunners remained until ordered to leave, and two of them—John Walter Hunt and J. C. McKinney—went down with the ship.

The vessel sank in four and a half minutes. Commander Ghent said:

The behavior of the naval personnel throughout was equal to the best traditions of the service. The two forward guns' crews, in charge of Lieutenant Tisdale, remained at their gun stations while the ship went down, and made no move to leave until ordered to save themselves. Radio Electrician C. L. Ausburne went down with the ship while at his station in the radio room. When the ship was struck Ausburne and McMahon were asleep in adjacent bunks opposite the radio room. Ausburne, realizing the seriousness of the situation, told McMahon to get his life preserver on, saying, as he left to take his station at the radio key, "Good-bye, Mac." McMahon, later finding the radio room locked and seeing the ship was sinking, tried to get Ausburne out, but failed.

Radio Electrician H. F. Watson was also lost. He remained with Commander Ghent on the bridge until the guns' crews were ordered to leave, and was on his way to a lifeboat when last seen.

The Alcedo rescued 117 and the Corsair 50 of the 234 persons who were on the Antilles. Sixty-seven were lost—4 men of the Navy, 16 of the Army; 45 of the ship's merchant crew; a civilian ambulance driver who had been serving with the French army, and a colored stevedore.

Rafts, set free by the blast of the explosion, were spread broadcast. Men who had been unable to get into the boats swam for them, and for boxes, planks or anything floating they could reach. As the Corsair was picking up the survivors, a sailor was seen calmly roosting on a box. As the yacht steamed for him, he stood up and, waving his arms, wigwagged:

"Don't come too close, box contains live ammunition!"

They rescued him with care, and with due respect for the explosive as well as for the gunner who considered the ship's welfare before he thought of his own safety.

Eleven days later the Finland was torpedoed, the explosion blowing in her side for 35 feet, the V-shaped hole running down to the bilge-keel. Three of the naval gun-crew, James W. Henry, Newton R. Head and Porter Hilton; two men of the Army, a colored transport worker, and six of the ship's merchant crew were lost. But the vessel, under the skilful direction of the senior naval officer, Captain S. V. Graham, made port under her own steam, was repaired and put back into service.

Repairing this ship was a striking example of the versatility of the American Army in France. The repairs were undertaken by the French naval arsenal, but man-power was scarce and the work was going slowly. A regiment of U. S. Army engineers, stationed at a point not far distant, offered assistance. Among them were a number of locomotive boiler riveters, and structural workers. It was these American "engineers" who came to the bat and actually repaired the Finland.

Neither the Antilles nor the Finland was a naval transport, both being chartered by the Army, and manned by civilian crews, the only Navy personnel aboard being the senior naval officer, the armed guard and the radio operators. It was the experience with these undisciplined crews which hastened the arrangement by which the Navy manned and operated, as well as escorted, all American troop-ships.

Only one of our armed yachts in French waters was sunk, the Alcedo, torpedoed at 1:45 a. m., November 5, 1917. She sank in eight minutes. About 75 miles west of Belle Ile, she was escorting a convoy, when a submarine was sighted, and then a torpedo, which struck the ship under the port forward chain-plates. Boats were lowered, and as the vessel began going down, Commander W. T. Conn, Jr., the commanding officer, ordered the men who were still aboard to jump over the side, intending to follow them. Before he could jump, however, the vessel listed heavily to port, plunging by the head, and sank, carrying him down with the suction. Coming to the surface, he swam to a raft, and later got to a whaleboat, which, with several dories, went among the wreckage, picking up survivors.

Half an hour after the Alcedo sank, the submarine approached, but after remaining twenty or thirty minutes steered off and submerged. After searching the vicinity for three hours, Commander Conn's boat and the others with him, containing 3 officers and 40 men, headed for Penmarch Light. They rowed until 1:15 that afternoon, when they were picked up by a French torpedo-boat. Reaching Brest at 11 p. m., Commander Conn was informed that two other dories, containing 3 officers and 25 men, had landed at Penmarch Point. One of the Alcedo's officers, Lieutenant (junior grade) John T. Melvin of Selma, Ala., and 20 enlisted men were lost.

This was the last American naval or troop-vessel sunk in many months by the submarines, which were kept on the run by our forces. The Wakiva, Noma, and Kanawha fought off two U-boats and it is believed sank one, which appeared as they were escorting the storeships Köln and Medina on November 28, 1917. At 6:20 p. m., the lookout on the Kanawha reported a periscope on the port beam, heading towards the Medina. It disappeared, but at 6:50 the Noma saw a periscope on her starboard beam. Twelve minutes afterward the Wakiva sighted a periscope heading towards the convoy. Swinging into position to fire a torpedo at the Wakiva, the submarine crossed the yacht's wake. The Wakiva fired three shots, apparently striking the periscope, which disappeared. She also let go two depth-charges.

As the Wakiva approached, what appeared to be the conning tower of the submarine emerged. The yacht fired at it, and the conning tower sank. The Wakiva dropped numerous depth-charges and after they exploded her commander saw what seemed to be three men clinging to a piece of wreckage. He hailed them, but received no response, and when the yacht went near the place they had disappeared. In the meantime the Noma had continued search, and sighted a periscope on her starboard bow, turned toward it, and let go several depth-charges. Officers were convinced that there were two submarines, and that one of them was sunk by the Wakiva.

The Christabel, smallest of the converted yachts, surprised her big sisters by smashing up a submarine so badly that it was just able to reach a Spanish port, where U-boat and crew were interned for the remainder of the war. Escorting the Danse, a British steamer which had fallen behind its convoy two miles from Ile de Yeu, on May 21, 1918, the Christabel at 8:52 p. m. sighted a periscope, and made for it, firing two depth-bombs. As the second charge exploded, there followed another violent explosion which threw up, between the Christabel and the water column raised by the bomb, a large amount of water and debris. Heavy black oil and a number of splintered pieces of wood rose to the surface.

That was the last the Christabel saw of the "sub," but three days later the report came that the UC-56 had arrived at Santander, Spain, too seriously damaged to attempt to return to Germany. Its officers and men were glad enough to escape with their lives.

Fine as was the record of the armed yachts, it was more than equaled by the destroyers, which bore the heaviest part in escorting the vast number of troop and cargo ships sent to France. This duty was performed at first by our force at Queenstown, but from October on, when the tender Panther (Commander A. M. Procter) and five destroyers arrived, destroyers were sent to Brest as follows:

Reid, (Commander C. C. Slayton); Flusser, (Lieutenant Commander R. G. Walling); the Preston, (Lieutenant Commander C. W. Magruder); Lamson, (Lieutenant Commander W. R. Purnell); Smith, (Commander J. H. Klein); Monaghan, (Lieutenant Commander J. F. Cox); Roe, (Lieutenant Commander G. C. Barnes); Warrington, (Lieutenant Commander G. W. Kenyon); Whipple, (Lieutenant Commander H. J. Abbett); Truxtun, (Lieutenant Commander J. G. Ware); Stewart, (Lieutenant Commander H. S. Haislip); Worden, (Lieutenant Commander J. M. B. Smith); Isabel, (Lieutenant Commander H. E. Shoemaker); Nicholson, (Lieutenant Commander J. C. Fremont).

Recounting what they accomplished, Admiral Wilson said:

The record of the service of these vessels on the coast of France furnishes one of the finest tributes in the history of our Navy to the soundness of their construction and to the ability of the personnel under trying conditions.

Until about the first of June, 1918, when the original lot of destroyer captains was detached and ordered to the United States to fit out new vessels, no American destroyers sent from France had ever missed contact with a convoy; no destroyer dispatched with a mission had ever returned to port before the completion of her duty, and furthermore, during this period, after the torpedoing of the Finland, on October 28, 1917, no vessel en route from America to France or from France to America, when escorted by American vessels based on France, had ever been torpedoed or successfully attacked on the high seas.

The Jarvis (Lieutenant Commander R. C. Parker), and the Drayton (Lieutenant Commander G. N. Barker), two of the 740-ton oil-burning destroyers, joined the force on February 15, 1918; then on March 4th, the Wadsworth (Lieutenant Commander C. E. Smith). The following destroyers that had also previously operated out of Queenstown were sent to Brest in June:

Sigourney, (Commander W. N. Vernou); Wainwright, (Commander R. A. Dawes); Fanning, (Lieutenant Commander F. Cogswell); Tucker, (Lieutenant Commander W. H. Lassing); Winslow, (Lieutenant Commander F. W. Rockwell); Porter, (Lieutenant Commander A. A. Corwin); O'Brien, (Commander M. K. Metcalf); Cummings, (Lieutenant Commander O. Bartlett); Benham, (Lieutenant Commander F. J. Fletcher); Cushing, (Commander W. D. Puleston); Burrows, (Lieutenant Commander A. Steckel); Ericsson, (Lieutenant Commander R. R; Stewart); and on July 23, the McDougal, (Lieutenant Commander V. K. Coman).

The Navy Department had decided that all additional destroyers built would be sent to Brest and to Gibraltar, and Admiral Wilson's forces were augmented from time to time by these new destroyers:

Little, (Captain J. K. Taussig); Conner, (Captain A. G. Howe); Taylor, (Commander C. T. Hutchins); Stringham, (Commander N. E. Nichols); Bell, (Lieutenant Commander D. L. Howard); Murray, (Lieutenant Commander R. G. Walling); Fairfax, (Lieutenant Commander G. C. Barnes).

For more than a year American mine sweepers pursued their dangerous but tedious task, sweeping up mines and keeping clear the channels leading to ports. Mainly converted fishing boats, the constant duty along the coast was not easy for them. The Rehoboth foundered off Ushant in a heavy sea October 4, 1917. Steaming in a fog near Concarneau, January 12, 1918, the Bauman struck one of the numerous rocks that make navigation in that region so dangerous. Though she was badly damaged, Ensign P. J. Ford, her executive officer, and several of her crew remained aboard, hoping to save her, and the Anderton started to tow her to Lorient, but she sank before reaching port. Soon afterwards, on January 25, the Guinevere, attempting to get to Lorient in a dense fog, ran on the rocks.

The mine force was not infrequently called upon to reinforce coastal convoys or go to the aid of vessels grounded or in distress. When the U-boats began attacking coastal convoys near Penmarch in January, 1918, the sweepers were sent out to patrol those waters at night. Lying in darkness, they spent long hours listening through the "C" tubes for any sound of a "sub." They were often hurried out to sweep mines discovered at various points. In a heavy sea, the Hinton, Cahill and James swept up a mine field near Belle Ile in record time, the James cutting four mines in fifteen minutes. These are only a few instances of the fine work they continually performed.

Heroes? There were plenty of them in our forces in France, as there were everywhere else in the Navy—men who feared no danger and, when necessity arose, risked their lives without a thought of self. Hear the story of the Florence H. The rescue of her survivors when that munition ship blew up off Quiberon Bay, April 17, 1918, is one of the war's most thrilling events.

The night was dark and cloudy, the sea smooth. Steaming along quietly, the convoy was nearing port. At 10:45 someone was seen signaling with a searchlight from the bridge of the Florence H. An instant later the vessel burst into flames, which soon enveloped the ship, and rose a hundred feet into the air. In ten minutes the vessel split open amidships and five minutes later went down, blazing like a torch. Smoke and flames prevented those on the ships around from seeing what had occurred aboard the steamship. Survivors reported later that there was a tremendous explosion in No. 2 hatch which lifted the deck and blew out the ship's starboard side. Her chief engineer, John B. Watson, said: "She just burned up and melted in about twenty minutes."

The whole thing occurred so suddenly that a naval commander, as he saw the flash, remarked: "Not a living soul will get off that ship."

Rescue seemed almost hopeless. The waters around were covered with flaming powder-cases and wreckage, so thickly packed that they spread to leeward like enormous rafts. All over the vicinity ammunition was exploding, shooting flame and gas ten to twenty feet into the air.

As soon as the fire broke out, two naval vessels started for the stricken ship. As they got near, the ammunition on the deck of the Florence H. began to explode, showering up like fireworks. Then her guns went off. For the wooden yachts to venture into that sea of flame was almost certain destruction. The destroyers, their decks laden with depth-charges, were in almost equal danger. When the Stewart drew near the ship, the senior commander signaled her to be careful. It seemed hardly possible that any of the Florence H.'s crew had escaped. But Lieutenant Commander H. S. Haislip heard cries in the water. That meant that there were men still alive, struggling in that horror.

There was only one way to rescue them. That was to plough through the blazing wreckage. Haislip knew what chances he was taking, risking his ship and crew. But it was to save human lives and he did not hesitate a moment. The Stewart led the way, and the other destroyers, the Whipple and the Truxtun, followed. Pushing through bursting powder-casks, and burning boxes, they made a path for the other ships.

Lines were thrown out and seamen jumped overboard to hold up men who were blinded or drowning. Lifeboats put out from half a dozen ships. The flames lit up the whole area so that it was almost as bright as day. Men could be seen clinging to ammunition boxes, and the rescuers rowed or swam to them.

Three men were found in a blazing lifeboat hemmed in by wreckage. A naval vessel steamed alongside and pulled them aboard. F. M. Upton, quartermaster third class, and J. W. Covington, ship's cook, plunged overboard to rescue a sailor too exhausted to help himself. Chaplain William A. Maguire assisted in the rescue, going out in a lifeboat which had to pole its way through the smouldering wreckage. Surgeons J. A. Flautt and G. E. Cram and Pharmacist's Mate W. Lorber were out in small boats, giving aid to the wounded, many of whom were burned about the head and arms.

Lieutenant (junior grade) M. L. Coon, took a boat into the wreckage and rescued three men. A motor-boat in charge of Lieutenant H. R. Eccleston ploughed its way through to a man who could not be reached by the rowers. Other boats were assisting in the rescue, directed by Lieutenant (junior grade) H. E. Snow, and Ensigns William O. Harris, Sherburne B. Rockwell and R. A. Johnston.

All the naval vessels did splendid work—the destroyers Stewart (Lieutenant Commander Haislip); Whipple (Lieutenant Commander H. J. Abbett), and Truxtun (Lieutenant Commander J. G. Ware); the yachts Wanderer (Lieutenant Commander P. L. Wilson); Sultana (Lieutenant Commander F. A. LaRoche); Christabel (Lieutenant Commander M. B. McComb), and Corona (Lieutenant H. H. J. Benson). More than a dozen officers and fifty enlisted men performed deeds for which they were officially commended. Upton and Covington were awarded the Medal of Honor. But Haislip, born in Virginia, appointed to the Naval Academy from Wisconsin, his later home in California, won most distinction, the highest honors we could bestow. The French Vice Admiral praised his courage and decision, saying that he exhibited not only "superb contempt of danger," but, "remarkable qualities of seamanship."

Thirty-two of the 77 men aboard the Florence H. were rescued. Had it not been for the heroic work of these men of the Navy, not one would have escaped alive.

Thrilling as Victor Hugo's description of the cannon which broke loose and threatened the ship, was John Mackenzie's wrestle with a depth-bomb on the Remlik. A storm was raging in the Bay of Biscay, and the Remlik, patrolling off the French coast, was having a hard time weathering the gale. Suddenly a periscope was sighted, and there was a cry from the lookout: "Submarine 400 yards off starboard beam!"

"General quarters" alarm was sounded, and stations manned. Heavy seas were breaking over the vessel, but the after gun's crew stayed at its post, trying to get a shot at the U-boat. Before they could fire the submarine submerged. Then followed one of the queerest of situations at sea, patrol ship and submarine both so tossed by wave and wind that they could not use their weapons against each other.

The U-boat poked up its double periscope three times, each time submerging as she saw the patrol ship's guns turned toward her. She could not launch a torpedo with any success in that raging sea; neither could the Remlik drop a depth-bomb on her, as the Remlik could make only two knots against the gale and a bursting depth-charge might damage her as much as it would the "sub." There they maneuvered like two tigers, unable to spring at each other. After a few minutes the submarine, which had never shown enough of herself for our gunners to plant a shell in her, finally submerged and stayed under. The Americans kept sailing over the locality, hoping she would reappear; but, not wanting to risk a gunfire contest, the "sub" had given up the fight.

Tossed about by that stormy sea, a more imminent danger threatened the Remlik. The waves breaking over the stern tore loose one of the huge depth-bombs. The box that held it fell overboard, but the bomb was hurled in the opposite direction. There it went, rolling around the deck, while the crew amidships watched it with the fascination of danger.

BREST, CENTER OF THE GREAT SYSTEM OF NAVAL OPERATIONS IN FRANCE

A GERMAN "SUB" AND SOME OF ITS ENEMIES

Above: The German submarine UC-56 in internment at Santander, Spain, where it was forced by the Christabel, the smallest of the American armed yachts in European waters.

Inset: High officers of the French and American Navies. Left to right: Vice Admiral Moreau, Assistant Secretary Roosevelt, Vice Admiral Schwerer, Rear Admiral Benoit, Vice Admiral Wilson.

Below: Patrol Boats and Sub-Chasers at Finisterre Dock, Brest, Base Section Number 5.

"The safety-pin's come out!" some one shouted.

They all knew what that meant. If the firing mechanism should hit, sending off that bomb; if its 300 pounds of TNT should explode, the Remlik would be shattered.

To catch and hold that heavy bomb, with the vessel rolling and pitching as it was, seemed almost impossible. Even to venture into that part of the ship was to risk life. The seas were breaking over it, threatening to sweep off anyone who went down the deck. All knew the ship faced destruction; that anyone who went after that bomb risked being swept overboard or blown to pieces. But quickly a voice rang out:

"Watch me; I'll get it!"

Mackenzie dashed down the deck and flung himself upon the plunging cylinder. He almost had his arms around it, when it broke away. He jumped for it again, and again it tore loose from him.

"Hey!" he yelled. "Stand by and lend a hand. It won't do for this colt to get away from me."

As he grabbed for it the third time, the big charge lurched, and falling, came near crushing him. But he caught his footing, and on the fourth attempt got a firm grip on it. Exerting all his strength, he heaved the "can" up on end, and then sat on it and held it down. Holding on firmly, he managed to retain his grip until lines could be run to him, and the bomb lashed down. Mackenzie had risked his life, but he had saved his ship and shipmates.

Recommending that the Medal of Honor be bestowed on Mackenzie, the first reservist to whom it was awarded, the commanding officer of the Remlik said:

Mackenzie, in acting as he did, exposed his life and prevented serious accident to the ship and probably loss of the ship and entire crew. Had this depth-charge exploded on the quarter-deck with the sea and wind that existed at the time, there is no doubt that the ship would have been lost.

There was no more striking instance of resourcefulness and good seamanship than the double service of the Americans in rescuing the survivors of the French light cruiser Dupetit Thouars, and salvaging and taking 350 miles to port the American steamship Westward Ho. The steamer was in a convoy from New York to the Bay of Biscay which had been escorted across the Atlantic by the French cruiser. At 10 o'clock, the night of August 7, 1918, the Dupetit Thouars was torpedoed, and soon sank. The destroyers Winslow, Porter, Drayton, Tucker, Fanning and Warrington went to her aid and rescued the survivors.

The next morning at 6:40 the destroyers caught a distress signal, found that the Westward Ho had been torpedoed, and took aboard her crew. The American yachts May and Noma and the French sloop Cassiopee soon afterwards arrived and found the ship still afloat. But she was apparently in a sinking condition, so deep in the water that attempts to tow her failed. A volunteer crew from the May headed by Lieutenant T. Blau, went aboard and though they had no experience with oil burning or turbine machinery, got up steam, started the pumps, and at last got the engines going. She was so deep in the water forward that they could not make much headway steering the ship bow first. So the volunteer crew turned her around, and with the two yachts towing and the French sloop looking out for submarines, ran that big steamship backwards three hundred and fifty miles, and got her safely into harbor.

A week later another surprising feat was accomplished. Proceeding in convoy 400 miles from the French coast, the West Bridge, on August 15, stripped her main turbine and lay helpless. She had hardly sent a radio to Brest, asking assistance, when the convoy was attacked by a submarine. The Montanan was torpedoed, and after she went down, the U-boat turned its attention to the West Bridge. Struck by two torpedoes, she was apparently about to founder. But the destroyer Smith went to her aid, and a volunteer crew under Lieutenant R. L. Connolly went aboard the disabled steamer. There was no possibility of raising steam. She had to be steered by hand. Eventually four tugs arrived and with the yacht Isabel started to tow. The well-deck forward of the ship's bridge was flush with the sea, the waves broke over her in a constant roar. Holds, engine and fire rooms were flooded. Keeping her afloat and keeping her moving was slow and hard work. For five days and nights those men struggled to save that ship, and at last they got her to port. When she reached Brest they beached her on a flat. The officers who examined her for repairs declared she did not have a hundred tons of positive buoyancy, hardly enough to keep her up an hour. Yet those Navy men had kept her afloat for five days and pulled her four hundred miles to port!

The spirit of America in Europe, its high ideals, the attitude of officers and men could not have been better expressed than in this open letter of Admiral Wilson to the forces under his command in France:

We are guests in the house of another people. Our home will be judged by our conduct in theirs. We still live under the rules, laws, and spirit of the place from which we come.

Every great nation in history has stood for some one definite idea: Greece for beauty, Rome for law, Israel for religion. America, in the eyes of the world, stands preëminently for freedom and the ideal of manhood. We must not shake that opinion but do all that we can to strengthen it.

We have come to this side of the world to record, by the indelible imprint of arms, our protest against that which is brutal, wicked, and unjust, to give expression to that measure of indignation stirred in the hearts of America by the deeds of terror which the enemy has written across the face of France. Our Nation stands for everything that is contrary to the spirit of arrogant power and tyranny. Let us prove that by our lives here.

The only history of America that many of the people of Europe will ever read is that which is recorded by our lives.

Live here the proud, manly existence that is justly expected.

Be courteous, temperate and self-controlled.

We fight against the Hun's ill-treatment of women; let no man be tempted to do, by insinuation, what we charge our enemies with doing by force. Let the women of France remember the men of America as those who would shield them against all harm, even that which might spring from their defenders.

You would fight the man who insulted your uniform; do not insult it yourself. Let it not be carried into places of disrepute or into any discrediting act. We are here for a great, high, and solemn purpose. Let every personal desire be subordinated to that righteous purpose, then we will return to our homes clean and proud and victorious.

CHAPTER XI
GIBRALTAR AND THE CONVOY

AMERICAN VESSELS ESCORTED NINETY PER CENT OF SHIPPING BETWEEN ENGLAND AND MEDITERRANEAN—GREAT WORK ACCOMPLISHED BY SHIPS UNDER COMMAND OF ADMIRAL NIBLACK—U. S. NAVAL FORCES MADE POSSIBLE OPERATION OF CONVOY SYSTEM, ONE OF THE MOST EFFECTIVE MEASURES OF THE WAR.

Gibraltar was the gateway through which passed one-fourth of all the shipping of the Allies. When the convoy system was applied to the Mediterranean, July, 1917, it became the principal convoy port of the world.

United States naval vessels furnished ocean escort both going and returning for 90 per cent of all convoys between Gibraltar and Great Britain—200 of the 225 groups which sailed, 4,269 ships, representing 12,000,000 gross tons. The Mediterranean escort protected 5,120 vessels; our destroyers in that region, 1004; our Marseilles escort 73; and our men-of-war accompanied 12 other special ships, transports, cable layers and submarines. Thus the United States vessels of this force escorted a total of 10,478 ships.

Realizing the strategic importance of Gibraltar, the Navy Department, on July 5, 1917, decided to establish a base there, and on July 14th, directed 11 vessels, including gunboats and light cruisers, under command of Admiral Wilson, to prepare for distant service, and sail for Gibraltar at the earliest possible date. This base, one of the most important in Europe, was established by the Navy Department on its own initiative, as had been the bases at Brest and Bordeaux and the Azores. By the time our vessels arrived it became, for protection of Allied shipping, a point of prime importance.

The convoy system was inaugurated in the Mediterranean, by British Admiralty order, on July 22, 1917. Five days afterwards the first regular convoy of 14 ships sailed for England. August 6th the vanguard of the United States naval vessels, the cruiser Sacramento (Captain T. T. Craven) reached Gibraltar. On the 17th Admiral Wilson arrived in the Birmingham (Captain C. L. Hussey), followed next day by the Nashville (Captain H. E. Yarnell). Other ships followed—the gunboats Castine (Captain W. C. Asserson), Machias (Commander Austin Kautz), Wheeling (Commander H. W. Osterhaus), Paducah (Commander H. H. Royall), the cruiser Chester (Captain Philip Williams), the Coast Guard cutters Seneca (Captain W. J. Wheeler), Manning (Lieutenant Commander A. J. Henderson), Tampa (Lieutenant Commander Charles C. Satterlee), Ossipee (Lieutenant Commander W. H. Munter), Yamacraw (Lieutenant Commander Randolph Ridgely), Algonquin (Lieutenant Commander G. C. Carmine), the converted yachts Yankton (Lieutenant G. E. Lake), Nahma (Lieutenant Commander E. Friedrick), Druid (Lieutenant Commander J. F. Connor), Wenonah (Lieutenant Commander P. E. Speicher), Arcturus (Lieutenant Commander C. F. Howell), Lydonia (Lieutenant Commander R. P. McCullough), Cythera (Lieutenant Commander W. G. Roper), Wadena (Lieutenant Commander W. M. Falconer), and Venetia (Commander L. B. Porterfield), the Coast and Geodetic Survey vessel Surveyor (Commander R. E. Pope), the destroyers Bainbridge (Lieutenant T. A. Thomson, Jr.), Barry (Lieutenant H. P. Sampson), Chauncey (Lieutenant Commander W. E. Reno), Dale (Lieutenant Roy Pfaff), Decatur (Lieutenant Ralph R. Stewart), Gregory (Commander A. P. Fairfield), Dyer (Commander F. H. Poteet), Stribling (Commander G. C. Logan), Luce (Commander R. C. Parker), Israel (Lieutenant Commander G. N. Barker), Maury (Commander J. H. Newton), Lansdale (Lieutenant Commander C. W. Magruder), and Schley (Lieutenant Commander R. C. Giffen), and the destroyer tender Buffalo (Captain C. M. Tozer).

American vessels took a prominent part in escort duty practically from the beginning of convoy in that region, becoming in a short time, the largest factor in the system. In the latter part of October, Admiral Wilson was ordered to command our forces on the French coast, and was succeeded by Admiral A. P. Niblack, who directed our forces at Gibraltar to the end of the war, with fine judgment and ability. He and his force became a tower of strength in that region, to the Allies as well as our own Navy.

As the American vessels arrived, they were immediately placed on duty with convoys and as danger-zone escorts. The ships of the Allies were employed almost exclusively in the Mediterranean, with headquarters at Malta, and our naval vessels did nearly all the escort duty between Gibraltar and the United Kingdom. They also convoyed over 4,000 vessels in local Mediterranean traffic, or bound for Mediterranean and Far Eastern ports; ships supplying the American army through Marseilles, the French forces in North Africa; the Allied armies at Salonika; the British in Egypt and Palestine; and the forces of Italy.

Soon after our vessels arrived in August, 1917, Rear Admiral H. S. Grant, British Royal Navy, senior naval officer in command at Gibraltar, drew up the plans by which the "H. G." (Home-Gibraltar) and "G. H." (Gibraltar-Home) convoys were organized between the United Kingdom and the Mediterranean. These also included ships bound to and from French ports in the Bay of Biscay and ships bound to the United States. Destroyers, sloops and special service vessels accompanied each convoy as a danger-zone escort through the Straits of Gibraltar to 10 degrees west longitude and there waited for, or met, an incoming convoy from England. Men-of-war acted as ocean escort to the convoys from that point to British waters, where they were met by a danger-zone escort at the end of the route.

At the beginning of October, 1917, a system of fast convoys, sailing every sixteen days, between the United Kingdom and Port Said, and vice versa, was organized. These were met at a rendezvous in approximately longitude 10 degrees west by naval vessels which escorted them to Gibraltar, where they were relieved usually by ships from the Malta command, to take them through the Mediterranean. These convoys were joined at Gibraltar by ships of over 10-1/2 knots speed, which were taken out by relief escorts and joined the convoy off Europa Point. The first of the through outward-bound convoys, O. E. 1 (outward eastward) passed Gibraltar October 11th, and the first through homeward bound convoy, H. E. 1, passed on November 26th.

By December most merchantmen which arrived at Gibraltar had been in convoy at one time or another, and it was possible to sail ships bound for North and South American ports in separate small convoys, with one master and commodore, escorted through the danger zone to longitude 10 degrees west. Between that time and the middle of February, 1918, 207 ships were thus sailed to the Americas.

More escort ships being available, and enemy submarine cruisers becoming active, ships for United States and South American ports were, beginning February 27, formed into convoys, two, a fast and a slow one, sailing on the same day, each accompanied by the danger-zone escort to longitude 30 degrees west, then proceeding "on their own" to longitude 70 degrees west to be dispersed to their proper destinations. Under this revised system there were sailed to American ports 1,013 ships, totalling 4,371,063 gross tons. These were called W. A. Convoys (Western Atlantic).

The main artery for supply of the Allied armies operating in Egypt, Palestine, Greece, Italy, Northern Africa and Southern France ran through the Gibraltar area, requiring a great amount of offensive work against enemy submarines, in addition to escorting convoys. Patrol of the Straits was carried on by torpedo boats, motor launches, sub-chasers and vessels of small displacement, entailing hardships and exposure in every kind of weather.

Numerous attacks on U-boats were reported in this region. The British Admiralty credited the U. S. S. Lydonia (Lieutenant Commander R. P. McCullough) and H. M. S. Basilisk with sinking a submarine while escorting a Mediterranean convoy, May 8, 1918. In latitude 38 degrees 06´ north, longitude 3 degrees 3´ east, the Lydonia sighted the wake of a torpedo which sank the British steamship Ingleside. The British and American ships immediately attacked, dropping a barrage of depth-charges, which destroyed the enemy. The submarine was the German UB-70, and the British Admiralty awarded these vessels the credit, rarely given, of "known sunk."

Commander Richard P. McCullough, commanding the Lydonia, was officially commended by the British Admiralty and the British senior naval officer at Gibraltar, as well as by our own authorities. Lieutenant Claud F. Reynaud, the executive officer, was also given special commendation. Sighting the torpedo at the instant it was fired, Reynaud started his stop-watch, timed the run of the torpedo, made immediate change of course to the position of the submarine and noted its bearings. This enabled the commanding officer to track the probable movements of the submarine, which was destroyed by depth-charges from the Lydonia and the Basilisk.

Credit was also given for the sinking of a submarine by the Wheeling, Surveyor and Venetia. While on escort duty, May 15, 1918, in latitude 36-03 N., longitude 1-47 W., these vessels sighted the track of a torpedo which struck a merchant ship of the convoy. They dashed down the wake made by the U-boat's periscope, dropping depth-charges which soon put the submarine out of business.

The notable record of the Venetia is recited in Admiral Niblack's recommendation of its commanding officer, Commander L. B. Porterfield, for special commendation:

While escorting Gibraltar-Bizerta convoy, on May 11, 1918, an enemy submarine, which was not seen, torpedoed the French steamship Susette Fraisenette at 3:39 a. m. With excellent judgment he assumed that submarine had dived under the convoy, and in following out the theory sighted the submarine on the surface at daylight, compelling it to submerge. This submarine was subsequently sunk in the Adriatic, and the survivors testified that the attack of the Venetia on this occasion drove them off, and saved the convoy from further attack. Commended in British Senior Naval Officer's letter 78-14 of 24th May, 1918, and British Commander-Chief's Mediterranean letter No. 2089-93 of 23 June, 1918.

While escort to Gibraltar-Bizerta convoy on May 17, 1918, the British steamship Sculptor was torpedoed at 6:48 p. m. Submarine was not seen, but the Venetia, having been previously detailed to attack with depth-charges, and remain behind four hours to keep down submarine, did so. At 7:02 p. m. wake of submarine was sighted and depth-charges dropped. On May 18th an enemy submarine interned at Cartagena, Spain, and was officially assumed to have been damaged by the Venetia.

While on escort duty, Gibraltar-Genoa, the British steamship Messidor was torpedoed at 7:24 p. m., July 23, 1918, and the Venetia instantly made attack, dropping thirteen depth-charges on pre-arranged plan.

The cruiser Chester had two encounters with submarines. While on convoy duty November 9, 1917, it attacked with gunfire a submarine which had sunk one of the vessels of the convoy, compelling the U-boat to submerge. On September 5, 1918, at 1:04 a. m., the Chester, on ocean escort, sighted a submarine close aboard on the starboard bow. First the cruiser attempted to ram the enemy, then attacked the undersea craft with depth-charges, which apparently damaged the U-boat.

Four days later a submarine attacked Convoy GGA-54, torpedoing and sinking the British steamship Arabis. The Paducah attacked with depth-bombs and, according to reports, damaged the submarine. The Seneca on September 16th drove off a submarine which attacked Convoy OM-99. The U. S. S. Druid and H. M. S. Gilia repulsed an attack on Convoy BG-65, on September 22nd. Escorting Convoy BG-67, on September 30th, the Seneca sighted a periscope and attacked with depth-charges and gunfire.

Convoy BG-68, escorted by the Cythera, was attacked the night of October 3rd, and two steamships, the British Ariel and the French St. Luc, were torpedoed. The Cythera went for the submarine, laying a pattern of depth-charges. While being escorted through the Straits of Gibraltar by H. M. S. Defender and the U. S. S. Decatur, H. M. S. Britannia was torpedoed and sunk at 7 a. m., November 9, 1918. The Decatur attacked with depth-charges. The same day a torpedo was fired at the Parker, which was on temporary duty on the western barrage line, in the Straits. But the torpedo missed, and the Parker went after the U-boat, dropping depth-bombs around her.

German submarine activity around Gibraltar continued up to the very end of hostilities. On November 10, 1918, the day before the armistice, the Israel, which was operating on the barrage line with a sub-chaser, discovered and attacked a U-boat, and the same day Sub-chaser Unit C, while patrolling off Point Boassa, also made contact with a submarine.

Two vessels of the Gibraltar force were lost—the destroyer Chauncey, sunk in collision with the British steamship Rose, November 19, 1917, and the Coast Guard cutter Tampa, sunk in British waters September 30, 1918.

The six little destroyers sent from the Philippines to Gibraltar made the long voyage of 12,000 miles under their own steam, arriving in October. The work they did was amazing, when their small size and age are considered. One of them, the Decatur, 420 tons displacement, which had been condemned as not seaworthy enough to venture out of sight of land, successfully negotiated the long voyage from Manila, and in service at Gibraltar steamed over 48,000 miles, making a total of 60,000 miles steaming before her departure for the United States.

The Wenonah, an armed yacht of hardly more than 200 tons, steamed in escort work 29,979 miles. The U. S. Coast Guard cutter Seneca, which arrived at Gibraltar September 4, 1917, escorted 600 ships in convoys, carrying total cargoes of 2,100,000 tons. These are only a few of the phenomenal records made.

United States naval vessels based on Gibraltar assisted in escorting 562 convoys, and 79 single ships, furnishing an average of fifty per cent of all escorts. Under way 46 per cent of the time and 68 per cent available at all times for operation, our vessels were, in addition to the Gibraltar-England service and danger zone escort, employed in escorting ships to Bizerta, Genoa, Oran and Marseilles. They maintained a monthly service to the Azores, escorted cable ships, and also did other odd jobs.

No vessels performed more convoy duty than these, and Admiral Niblack, who commanded them, thus states what was expected of the system:

(a) That a relatively small number of escort vessels could protect more ships if they were in convoy than in any other way.

(b) That ships in convoy could not be visited and sunk by bombs, as were single ships.

(c) That ships in convoy would not be attacked by gunfire by submarines.

(d) That convoys, being few in number, would be difficult to find and consequently fewer attacks could be made by torpedo.

(e) That in the danger zones near ports where submarines would lay for convoys the escort by anti-submarine craft could be made so strong as to make the risk to submarines very hazardous.

"The great advantage of the convoy," said he, "was that the ships arrived in the danger zone collectively and at a definite time, where an adequate danger zone escort could be assembled, which was fitted with depth-charges and was in such numbers as to make the chances of submarines extremely small if it attempted to attack the convoy."

But, in considering the effect of convoy in lessening sinkings, Admiral Niblack said:

I think we should take into consideration, as Admiral Mayo points out, the employment of new and offensive measures through the use of the depth-charges, mystery ships, airships, kite balloons, the laying of mine barrages, the firing of torpedoes from Allied submarines, combined with the use of organized patrols fitted with listening devices and hunting the submarine systematically. ****

One very important phase of the discussion of the convoy system which has been entirely overlooked is that during the entire war only one escorted convoy crossed from the United States to Gibraltar. *** All the rest of the million tons of shipping which crossed from the United States to Gibraltar went across as single ships, going "on their own," as it were. These ships depended on their armed guard gun crews, and were independent of the convoy system. They actually encountered submarines, but they relied on their guns for protection.

The convoy system, however, accomplished all that was expected of it, and was markedly successful.

It was our destroyers at Queenstown, our forces on the French coast and at Gibraltar, our cruisers escorting convoys crossing the Atlantic, that made it the success it was—and it was one of the most successful measures of the war.

President Wilson, as I have said, favored its adoption from the beginning; in fact, wondered why the Allies had not adopted it upon the outbreak of war in Europe. It was one of the first measures recommended by the General Board. But at the time this country entered the war, the Allies were pursuing exactly the opposite method; that is, dispersion of shipping.

When troop transportation was first determined upon, in May, 1917, we adopted the convoy system for troop-ships. It was in that month that the British decided to try out the plan for merchant ships, to see whether it would work. The first experimental convoy arrived in England from Gibraltar, May 20. A few convoys were despatched in June, and on June 22 Sims cabled me: "The British Admiralty have now adopted the convoy system and will put it into effect as fast as ships can be obtained for high sea convoy against raiders, and destroyers for escort duty in submarine zone." He reported two routes in operation, stated that eight convoys a week were planned, and recommended that we furnish one cruiser or battleship a week for high sea escort. On June 30, I informed him that the Department would assign seven cruisers for this duty. Our destroyers were engaged in the danger-zone from the time the first trans-Atlantic convoys were started.

Putting the convoy system into effect was a big job, involving the larger part of the world's shipping—a reversal of method that necessitated a radical change in the naval scheme. Concerning the part the United States Navy played in this great task, Admiral Sims wrote in the World's Work:

I do not wish to say that the convoy would not have been established had we not sent the destroyers for that purpose, yet I do not see how it could have been established in any complete and systematic way at such an early date. And we furnished other ships than destroyers, for, besides providing what I have called the modern convoy—protecting the compact mass of vessels from submarines—it was necessary also to furnish escorts after the old Napoleonic plan. It was the business of the destroyers to conduct merchantmen only through the submarine zone. They did not take them the whole distance across the ocean, for there was little danger of submarine attack until the ships reached the infested waters. This would have been impossible in any case with the limited number of destroyers.

But, from the time the convoys left the home port, say New York or Hampton Roads, there was the possibility of the same kind of attack as that to which convoys were subjected in Nelsonian days—that is, from raiders or cruisers. We always feared that German cruisers or raiders of the Moewe type might escape into the ocean and attack these merchant ships, and we therefore had to escort them across the ocean with battleships and cruisers just as they did a century ago. The British did not have ships enough available for this purpose, and here again the American Navy was able to supply the lack; for we had a number of pre-dreadnaughts and cruisers that were ideally adapted to this kind of work.

AT GIBRALTAR, KEY TO THE MEDITERRANEAN

Above: U. S. S. Buffalo, Schley and Jupiter.

Inset: Rear Admiral Albert P. Niblack, commanding American naval forces in the Mediterranean.

Below: The signal tower and American sub-chasers.

THE GREAT MINE BARRAGE AGAINST THE SUBMARINES

This map shows the location of the mine barrage across the North Sea as well as the smaller one across the English Channel. The dangers of this barrage, more than any other single factor, destroyed the morale of the German submarine crews.

CHAPTER XII
SHUTTING UP THE HORNETS IN THEIR NESTS

MINE BARRAGE ACROSS NORTH SEA A TERROR TO U-BOATS—GERMANS PLANNED BIG DRIVE, BUT SUBMARINE CREWS REFUSED TO GO TO SEA—MORALE SHATTERED, KAISER'S NAVY WAS WRECKED BY MUTINY—PROPOSED BY U. S. NAVY IN APRIL, 1917, EIGHTY PER CENT OF BARRAGE WAS LAID BY AMERICANS.

Germany planned a great naval offensive in the fall of 1918—that is, the German authorities did, the High Command. Why was it never carried out? Why were the U-boats recalled? Why did the Kaiser's High Seas Fleet surrender without striking a blow?

When Sir Eric Geddes, First Lord of the British Admiralty, visited Washington in October, 1918, he told me that we might expect a decided increase in submarine activity, a German drive at sea. In the official conferences we held, Sir Eric and his associates predicted that, notwithstanding all the efforts we were making, vastly more tonnage might be sunk in the ensuing months. The British were striving to increase ship production, and put as many war vessels as possible into commission.

The next day I telegraphed the leading shipbuilders of the country, asking them to come to Washington. Over 200 destroyers were under construction or contracted for, and rapid progress was being made on them. But I thought that, by special effort, we might rush a larger number to completion. The critical situation outlined by the British authorities was explained to the builders, and they were directed to make construction continuous—to run three shifts of eight hours each, working day, night and Sundays, and to speed up to the utmost on destroyers and all anti-submarine craft. They pledged their earnest assistance, proposing to increase forces, if labor could be secured, and to push the program already undertaken on the highest gear.

While the visit of the British mission as announced was to "discuss certain matters concerning the naval situation," and its conferences were confidential, its members in public statements made clear their belief that easy or early victory was not to be expected.

"I have made it the keynote of all my policy and all my advice to others not to be deluded with hopes of an early peace, but to prepare for an ever-receding duration of the war," said Sir Eric Geddes. "We must always be prepared for two years more, and then only shall we have the sure means of victory in our hands."

More significant still, more to the point, was the remark made by Sir Eric just before he sailed for Europe:

"A great renewed effort on Germany's part is impending. We know it, and its extent."

Before he reached England, U-boat warfare was practically ended. Within ten days the submarines were recalled to their home bases. As they were returning to Germany they sank a few ships. But these were the last few examples of German frightfulness on the seas.

What had brought about that tremendous change? It was not due to any lack of determination on the part of the German Admiralty, or the Kaiser. But they found that the big stick with which they were to strike was only a broken reed. The morale of their navy was shattered. Officers were willing enough to obey orders, but their men refused to fight.

The U-boat crews, for years the pick and pride of the service, refused to go to sea. Germany was building hundreds of submarines, they were being turned out by the score. She might soon have sent out a dozen for every one she had when ruthless warfare began. But willing crews were lacking to man them.

This was a complete reversal of previous experience. A year before U-boat duty had been the most sought-for branch of the service. Essaying long voyages in the Atlantic or the Mediterranean, cruising for weeks around the waters of England and France, their officers and men had braved many dangers, and returning were hailed by their countrymen as conquering heroes.

Sinkings had been made more difficult by the convoy system. Listening devices had made it more dangerous for submarines to remain in the vicinity of naval vessels. Patrol, by surface ships and aircraft, had become more efficient. Shipping was more difficult to get at and destroy. More submarines were being sunk than in the early days. But, with all these operating against them, the U-boats, even if they could not make such high scores in tonnage, had more than an even chance to reach their home bases unscathed.

Now was another danger to face, however; one that was hidden and deadly, and it had to be faced by every boat departing or returning. Some U-boats, putting out to sea from their nesting places on the German coasts, vanished utterly. No trace was left, no record of what fate befell them.

Others, badly damaged, limped back to port. Survivors told of colliding with mines hidden far below the surface, whose presence could not be guessed. No vigilance could locate or action avoid them. They might run into them anywhere within hundreds of miles. This was a terror the undersea boatmen were unwilling to face. The revolt of the U-boat crews spread to other branches of the naval service, and the entire German navy began to disintegrate.

The mutiny in the German sea forces, the demoralization of its personnel, has no parallel in naval history. This was undoubtedly due to various causes, but, in my belief, there was no one thing that had more influence in breaking the German morale, particularly in the U-boat service, than did the Northern Mine Barrage.

Stretching across the North Sea, from Norway almost to the Orkneys, this heavy barrier of powerful mines opposed any enemy vessels which attempted to make their way around the north of Scotland into the Atlantic. The Germans had only two exits from the North Sea, the one covered by this mine barrier, and, to the south, the narrow Straits of Dover, also partially mined and guarded by the famous Dover Patrol.

It was a new factor in war, this vast barrage, the most successful innovation, the biggest new naval offensive put forth after our entrance into the war. American in conception, it was also mainly American in construction. A joint British and American undertaking, as it was, four-fifths of the mines laid were of American design and manufacture, made in this country, taken across the Atlantic in American ships, and laid by American naval vessels.

Though not actually laid until the summer of 1918, this was the first big project proposed by the United States Navy after our entrance into the war. In fact, it was only nine days after war was declared that the Bureau of Ordnance presented an elaborate memorandum, outlining the proposition. But the British Admiralty, without whose consent and coöperation it could not be constructed, and Admiral Sims pronounced it "impractical" and "unfeasible." It was not until six months later that we secured the Admiralty's approval, and the great project got under way.

The first mine was laid on June 8, 1918. "The barrier began to take toll of the enemy's submarines as early as July 9, when one was disabled on the barrier and compelled to return to Germany," reported Admiral Joseph Strauss, commander of American mining operations in the North Sea. "It is not known how many submarines were sunk or disabled in the mine field. It has been placed as high as twenty-three. My own estimate, based on known sinkings, is ten, although I am inclined to think that is a modest one."

Captain Reginald R. Belknap, commander of Mine Squadron 1, says the barrage began to yield results before it was half way across. "From the nature of the case it may never be known definitely how many actually did come to grief there," he said; "but the best information gives a probable ten before the middle of October, with a final total of seventeen or more. In addition to this toll, the squadron should be given credit for two submarines lost in the field of British mines laid by the Baltimore off the Irish coast."

Eight and one-half per cent of the total number of submarines lost during the war were brought into the list of missing by the barrage, was the estimate of Admiral Ralph Earle, Chief of the Bureau of Ordnance, under whose administration and leadership the mine barrage was conceived, projected and constructed. Admiral Earle reported to me:

It has been established that six submarines were lost in the barrage and three more so badly damaged that they never again put to sea. However, from further evidence, the British Admiralty officially credit the barrage with fourteen additional, or a total of twenty-three. Two hundred German U-boats were destroyed in the war, or fifty more than the Allies could account for. To err on the conservative side, we claim but eight out of the fourteen credited the barrage by the British Admiralty, or a total of seventeen. This is also the figure arrived at by Captain R. R. Belknap, commander of Mine Squadron 1. What does this figure show? Eight and one-half per cent of the total number of submarines lost during the war were brought into the list of missing by the barrage, which existed for only six per cent of the period of the war. Such results more than justified the effort and time and funds expended.

PLANTING MINES IN THE NORTH SEA

A squadron of American mine planters at work. Inset: Rear Admiral Joseph Strauss, who was in general command of mining operations.

HOW THE BIG MINES IN THE NORTH SEA BARRAGE WORKED

Fig. 1. Mine and Anchor leaving launching rails.

Fig. 2. Fifth wheel released, plummet supported by dashpot.

Fig. 3. Plummet released and unwinding cord.

Fig. 4. Plummet at end of cord. Slip hook pulled off.

Fig. 5. Anchor paying out mooring cable as it sinks. Plummet strikes bottom and locks cable drum.

Fig. 6. Anchor on bottom submerging mine distance equal to length of plummet cord.

A. MINE CASE
B. ANCHOR
C. PLUMMET
D. PLUMMET CORD
E. SLIP HOOK
F. MOORING

The barrage did more than take toll of submarines sent to kingdom come by its mines. "There is no doubt," reported Sims in the "Summary of Activities of American Forces in European Waters," "that the barrage had a considerable moral effect on the German naval crews, for it is known that several submarines hesitated some time before crossing. Also, reports from German sources are that the barrage caused no small amount of panic in some of the submarine flotillas. It is also probable that the barrage played a part in preventing raids on Allied commerce by fast enemy cruisers."

Admiral Strauss, in his testimony before the Senate Investigating Committee, declared that if the Northern Barrage and that across the Straits of Dover had been fully completed as we planned, "it would have ended the submarine menace, so far as submarines going from the North Sea into the Atlantic were concerned;" and that the building of the mine barriers across the Adriatic and Aegean seas, for which we were preparing materials, "would have actually ended submarine operations."

Could it have been built in 1917, a year earlier than it was? Strauss said it could, and this was the firm belief of Earle and other ordnance experts. True, the antenna mine we developed later was a big improvement, superior to any previously devised. It would have taken two or three times as many mines of the type then in use, perhaps 180,000 of them, as was estimated. We manufactured 100,000 of the antenna type, and could have made as many more, if necessary. The British had no antenna mines, Admiral Strauss pointed out, and all the mines they laid in the barrage were of the older type. After all the objections were presented to him, Admiral Strauss, when asked if he still considered it would have been feasible to have gone ahead with the barrage in 1917, unhesitatingly answered: "Yes."

Not laying that barrage earlier—in fact, at the earliest possible moment—was, in my opinion, the greatest naval error of the war. If the British had erected it early in the war, and put a similar effective barrier across the Straits of Dover and Otranto, the Germans would have been so restricted that widespread U-boat warfare, with its terrible destruction of life and shipping, would have been impossible.

"Shutting up the hornets in their nests," as President Wilson expressed it, was the first idea that occurred to us when we went to war. The Bureau of Ordnance on April 15, 1917, submitted a memorandum urging that we "stop the submarines at their source" and suggesting that mine barriers be laid across the North Sea, the Adriatic and the Dardanelles. "The northern barrier," it stated, "would extend from the mid-eastern coast of Scotland to the Norwegian coast, a distance of about 250 miles," and the southern (that is, to close the Straits of Dover) would extend "from the southeast coast of England and to a point on the French coast near the Belgian frontier, a distance of about forty miles." Next day I cabled Admiral Sims, who had just arrived in London:

Is it not practicable to blockade German coast efficiently and completely, thus making practically impossible the egress and ingress of submarines? The steps attempted or accomplished in this direction are to be reported at once.

Two days later came the answer:

To absolutely blockade the German and Belgian coast against the entrance and departure of submarines has been found quite unfeasible.

The next day he wrote a long letter, amplifying the difficulties and reporting against any such barriers. But our ordnance experts were thoroughly convinced the project was feasible. On May 9th they outlined their plans in a memorandum to be submitted to the British Admiralty, and on May 11th I cabled to Admiral Sims: "Much opinion is in favor of concerted efforts by the Allies to establish a complete barrier across the North Sea, Scotland to Norway, either direct or via the Shetlands, to prevent the egress of German submarines." I added, "The difficulty and size of the problem is recognized, but if it is possible of accomplishment the situation would warrant the effort." He was directed to consult with the British Admiralty regarding this plan. Two days later came the reply:

From all experience Admiralty considers project of attempting to close exit to North Sea to enemy submarines by the method suggested to be quite impracticable. Project has previously been considered and abandoned.

In a dispatch on May 14th Sims said: "The abandonment of any serious attempts at blockading such passages as Scotland-Norway, the Skagerrack and Scotland to Shetland has been forced by bitter and expensive experience."

"As may well be imagined," he wrote later, "this whole subject has been given the most earnest consideration, as it is, of course, realized that if submarines could be kept from coming out, the whole problem would at once be solved." But he said, "I cannot too strongly emphasize the fact that during nearly three years of active warfare this whole question had been the most serious subject of consideration by the British Admiralty," which had concluded that no "barrier can be completely effective."

This, however, did not deter our ordnance experts. The more they studied the question, the more were they convinced that the barrier could be "put across." Believing in mines, preparing for mine operations on a large scale, they were astonished when, on May 31st, Sims reported that, instead of our giving attention to mine production, the British Admiralty "consider we can more profitably concentrate on other work."

Earle and his associates in the Bureau of Ordnance never doubted final success. They experimented with mines, firing and anchoring devices, and on July 30th announced the development of a new type of mine, particularly adapted to deep waters. A unique feature of this mine was that it did not have to be struck to explode, but would explode if a submarine passed close to it. This was due to the firing apparatus, which was evolved from an electrical device submitted by Mr. Ralph C. Browne, of Salem, Mass., to be used on a submerged gun. Officers of the Bureau concluded this could be adapted to mines, and in May began work to that end. Commander S. P. Fullinwider, chief of the Mine Section, was aided by Mr. Browne, Lieutenant Commander T. S. Wilkinson, Jr., and Commodore S. J. Brown in producing this firing device, and others who assisted in developing the mine were Lieutenant Commanders O. W. Bagby, J. A. Schofield, W. A. Corley, C. H. Wright and H. E. Fischer, Lieutenant S. W. Cook and Lieutenant (junior grade) B. W. Grimes.

With this improved mine as an argument, our ordnance officers renewed the proposal of a mine offensive in the North Sea. The memorandum the Bureau submitted was comprehensive, and contained all the essential features of the barrage plan that was later adopted and carried into effect.

How could the project be best presented to the British Admiralty again? Admiral Mayo was preparing to sail within a short time for Europe. Just before his departure the entire project was discussed and the operation of the improved mines explained, as he was to bring the whole matter to the attention of the British Admiralty and the Allied Naval Council. To prevent loss of time and further insure the Admiralty's consideration, on August 17th, before Mayo sailed, I cabled Sims:

Bureau of Ordnance has developed a mine which it hopes may have decisive influence upon operations against submarines. Utmost secrecy considered necessary. Request that an officer representing the Admiralty, clothed with power to decide, be sent here to inspect and thoroughly test mine, and, if found satisfactory, arrange for coöperation in mining operations.

The Allied Naval Conference, held in London September 4th and 5th, which Mayo attended, took up not only the barrage project, but another proposition our Navy Department had suggested months before, a close offensive in German waters. After the meeting Mayo cabled:

Conference completed after agreement upon the following points:

1. That close offensive in German waters should be carefully considered by Allies, after which they should indicate to British Admiralty contribution of old war ships they are prepared to furnish should offensive prove practicable.

2. That alternative offensive employing effective mine field or mine net barrage to completely shut in North Sea not practicable until adequate supply satisfactory type mines assured, and that pending such supply, extension present system mine fields desirable and that mine net barrage impracticable.

This indicated to us that the British still doubted the effectiveness of a barrage, as well as our ability to furnish an adequate supply of mines. It was evident that, after five months of earnest advocacy, further urging was needed to secure approval of the project. Benson, therefore, on September 12th, cabled Mayo:

There are great possibilities in the satisfactory solution of the mine and depth-charge question. Officers sent over here most satisfactory and remarkably well posted. I think it would help the whole situation wonderfully if Commodore Gaunt could visit the Admiralty for a few days and have a heart-to-heart talk. No time to be lost.

What happened next? The day after Benson's message was received, the British Admiralty made out for Mayo a paper entitled, "General Future Policy, Including Mine Policy," with an appendix, "Mine Barrage Across the North Sea." The policy outlined by the Admiralty, announced September 14th, was the same the Navy Department had suggested nearly five months previous.

Even then there was delay. On October 9th, Sims reported that the Admiralty was "thoroughly investigating the question" and that "the discussion of this question will probably be postponed by the Admiralty until the return of the commander-in-chief." We were still not certain as to whether the British were ready to put it through. But, believing that the plan must finally be put into effect, our Bureau of Ordnance went ahead, and let the contracts for 100,000 mines. Upon Mayo's return October 15th, the amendments suggested by the British were approved by the General Board and accepted by the Department. Nothing definite, however, had come from London and on October 20th Sims was cabled:

The Department requests to be informed whether the plan for the placing of a mine barrier across the North Sea on the Aberdeen-Egersund line has the approval of the Admiralty.

Finally on October 22nd, an answer direct from the British Admiralty said, "Admiralty has approved mine barrier and now confirms approval."

All the details were then perfected—this required several days—and on October 29th I received and approved the completed plans. The President, who for months had been impatient of delay, gave his approval as soon as they were laid before him. This was at a cabinet meeting on October 30th. The same day a cable was sent to the Admiralty that we had taken steps to fit out mine-planters; that shipment of mines would begin the first of January, and officers would be sent in a few days to arrange details.

So after months of opposition, doubt and indecision, the two navies united in the construction of this most stupendous job of the kind ever conceived or undertaken. It was well done and the result demonstrated its effectiveness. Admiral Sims himself, after its completion and success, said that "no such project has ever been carried out more successfully" and that "as an achievement it stands as one of the wonders of the war."

I am not giving these details in any spirit of criticism of the British Admiralty or our representative in London, but to do justice to the vision, initiative and resource of the American Navy. It was, indeed, a bold and gigantic experiment, calling for many millions of money and the strenuous and dangerous work of many men. That it was so successfully done reflects credit alike on Britons and Americans, and both share in the honor of its accomplishment.

Manufacturing 100,000 mines was a big order, but that was only the beginning. They had to be shipped 3,500 miles overseas, which necessitated a fleet of mine-carriers. Twenty-three cargo vessels were converted, and assigned to this duty. To fill the mines with explosives a mine-loading plant of 22 buildings was erected at St. Julien's Creek, Va., capable of receiving, loading and shipping 1,000 mines a day. Advanced bases, for inspection and assembly of the mines, were established in February, 1918, on the east coast of Scotland, at Inverness and Invergordon, with Captain O. G. Murfin in charge.

For the work of mine-laying, a Mine Squadron was created, under command of Captain Reginald R. Belknap. This consisted of the flagship San Francisco (Captain H. V. Butler), and her consort, the Baltimore (Captain A. W. Marshall), "crack cruisers of the vintage of 1890," as Captain Belknap called them; and eight former merchant vessels converted into naval mine planters. Four of these were Southern Pacific or Morgan liners, carrying freight between New York and Galveston, renamed the Roanoke (Captain C. D. Stearns), Canonicus (Captain T. L. Johnson), Housatonic (Captain J. W. Greenslade), and Canandaigua (Commander W. H. Reynolds). Two were the Old Dominion passenger liners Jefferson and Hamilton, running between New York and Norfolk, renamed Quinnebaug (Commander D. Pratt Mannix), and Saranac (Captain Sinclair Gannon). The remaining two were the fast Boston and New York passenger steamers, Massachusetts and Bunker Hill, of the Eastern Steamship Corporation, renamed Shawmut (Captain W. T. Cluverius), and Aroostook (Captain J. Harvey Tomb). They were accompanied abroad by several seagoing tugs, the Sonoma, Ontario, Patapsco and Patuxent.

Admiral Strauss, who was in general command of mining operations, went to England in March, inspected the bases, and conferred with the British authorities as to the general arrangements. His flagship was the Black Hawk (Captain R. C. Bulmer), which was also the repair vessel of the mine force. The British began mine laying in March, but one of their vessels, the Gailardia, was sunk; and operations were suspended for a time until the safety of the mines could be assured.

The Baltimore, the first of our vessels sent over, arrived in the Clyde in March. Submarines were very active in Irish waters, and the Admiralty decided to lay a deep mine-field off the north coast of Ireland, in the North Channel. As all British mine-layers were employed elsewhere, the Admiralty requested the use of the Baltimore. This was readily granted and the Baltimore engaged in this from April 13th until the latter part of May, joining our squadron in Scotland June 2nd. The Roanoke, sent over to assist her, was instead ordered to our base at Invergordon.

Sailing from Newport, May 12th, the San Francisco and other vessels arrived at Inverness, May 26th, all ready to begin operations. Twelve days later the squadron started on its first mine-planting "excursion." On these expeditions, which lasted usually from 40 to 80 hours, the squadron was regarded as a part of the British Grand Fleet. Screening it against submarines, and hostile mines casually placed, was an escort of eight to twelve British destroyers, which formed around the squadron upon its leaving the base and kept with it until its return. To guard against attack from enemy cruisers, while away from the coast, the squadron was accompanied by a supporting force, consisting of a battleship or battle-cruiser squadron and a light-cruiser squadron of the Grand Fleet, sometimes by all three, according to the estimated probabilities of attack. On the second mining excursion the support was the Sixth Battle Squadron, the American battleships, commanded by Admiral Rodman. Captain Belknap gave a vivid picture of the dangerous character of mine-laying when he said:

One may imagine with what feelings we saw our own great ships file out of Scapa Flow, form line on our quarter, and slowly disappear in the haze, as they swept off to the southeastward. It will be readily understood that the way had to be made smooth for the mine planters. As long as it was so, all would go well; but a single well placed torpedo or mine, or a few enemy shells, would certainly finish one vessel, and probably destroy all ten of them. Each mine planter carried from 24 to 120 tons of high explosive, a total of nearly 800 tons in the squadron, many times more than the amount that devastated Halifax. With this on board, the squadron was hardly a welcome visitor anywhere.

Operations as a whole were conducted in conjunction with a British mine-laying squadron of four vessels, under command of Rear Admiral Clinton-Baker. American and British squadrons often went out at the same time, under protection of the same heavy vessels, but except on two occasions they worked separately, in different parts of the barrage area. Thus there were altogether fourteen mine planters at work at the same time.

On the first excursion, June 7th, the American squadron planted a mine field 47 miles long, containing 3,400 mines, in 3 hours and 36 minutes. Everything went without a hitch. One ship emptied herself of 675 mines without a single break, one mine every 11-1/2 seconds through more than two hours, a record never before equalled.

ONE OF THE PERILS OF MINE-SWEEPING

An explosion close astern of the Patapsco. The greatest care was exercised to avoid accidents of this character, but to eliminate them entirely was impossible.

THE MINE-SWEEPERS PROVED WONDERFUL SEA BOATS

These tiny craft rode many a rough sea which worried larger and more powerful ships.

UNITED STATES NAVAL OFFICES IN IMPORTANT COMMANDS

Left to right: Admiral Sims, Admiral Mayo, Captain Nathan C. Twining, Captain O. P. Jackson, Admiral Wilson.

AMERICAN AND BRITISH NAVAL OFFICIALS

Left to right: Admiral Benson, Secretary Daniels, Sir Eric Geddes, Admiral Duff.

Dangerous as was the work, there were very few casualties. One man fell overboard from the Saranac and was drowned, but he was the only man lost at sea, and there were but four other deaths in that force of 4,000. Laden with high explosives, navigating waters where enemy mines had been laid, operating near mine fields, and in danger of premature explosion from those they themselves had laid, it is remarkable that not one of these ships was lost or seriously damaged.

The eighth excursion in which British and American squadrons joined, both in command of Admiral Strauss, closed the western end of the barrier, off the Orkneys. The next expedition was conducted in the same manner, with Rear Admiral Clinton-Baker, of the British Navy, in command. The American squadron made fifteen excursions, the British eleven, operations being completed October 26th. In four hours on one expedition, 6,820 mines were planted, 5,520 by our vessels, 1,300 by the British. Our squadron alone planted a field 73 miles long in one day.

Seventy thousand, two hundred and sixty-three mines were laid—13,652 British, 56,611 American. Numerous lines were laid near the surface; others were placed at from 90 to 160 feet; and the lowest went to depths from 160 to 240 feet.

Beginning near the northern Orkneys, the barrier ran to Udsire Light, near Bergen, on the coast of Norway, 230 miles. Its average width was 25 miles, in some places it was 35 miles across, and at no point was it less than 15 miles wide. At its narrowest, this meant more than an hour's run for a submarine. Mines were planted, row after row, at various depths. If a U-boat proceeded on or near the surface, it would encounter from six to ten lines of mines. If it tried to break through by going deeper, there were more of the deadly explosives. Submergence was, in fact, as dangerous as running the gauntlet on the surface. No matter how far the sub went down there were mines to meet it, to the furthest limit of submarine descent. One touch—even a slight jar from the vibration of the U-boat—was enough to set off one of these mines, and when it exploded the U-boat was done for.

Mine-laying was not the only role played by the American force, Captain Belknap wrote:

In addition to the value of the barrage itself, in keeping the enemy submarines in or from their bases, the mine squadrons were expected to serve as bait, to draw out the German fleet; the squadrons' role being neatly expressed by one high officer as "an important military offensive with a front seat at the Second Battle of Jutland." This ever present possibility and the fact that the working ground lay in the principal thoroughfare of enemy submarines, with attendant incidents of periscope sightings, submarine reports, depth charges, smoke screens, floating mines, and dead Germans floating by, lent spice to the work, which, like the proverbial sporting life, was often hard but never dull. ***

On every excursion, during the mine laying, one or more of the mines would go off fairly close astern—lest we forget! The mines were very sensitive, and no witness of an excursion could retain any doubt as to the fate of a submarine that "luckless dares our silent wake."

The eastern end of the barrage extended to the territorial waters of Norway. That country being neutral we could not, of course, mine to its shores. With the growth of the barrier, U-boats took advantage of this, going within the three-mile limit to slip by into the open sea. The Norwegian Government then announced its decision to mine its waters, which closed that gap.

Our original plan was to plant mines clear to the Orkneys, and this we urged. But Admiral Beatty and others strongly objected, fearing that it might hamper the operations of the Grand Fleet. So the mine-fields ended ten miles east of the islands. But this ten-mile passage was heavily patroled, and any "sub" attempting to pass that way must run the risk of attack by numerous naval vessels. Thus the U-boats could not get through anywhere except at great risk. Months were required to lay that barrier, and during that time there were unmined areas through which vessels could pass.

The barrage was completed October 26th, almost coincident with Germany's recall of its U-boats, which practically ended submarine warfare. Some of those recalled did not reach these waters until the armistice had been signed, hostilities were over, and they were immune from attack. Some "ran" the barrage, and several met the fate of the U-156, one of the undersea cruisers which operated off our own coasts. Attempting to get through the barrier, she struck a mine and went down. So far as known, only 21 of her crew were saved.

The Northern Barrage cost us approximately $80,000,000. Shipping sunk by submarines averaged, for a long period, over $70,000,000 a month, at times ran over $80,000,000, in actual monetary value, not counting the resultant military effect of its loss. Admiral Sims estimates that the war cost the Allies $100,000,000 a day. Thus, if the Northern Barrage shortened the war one day, it more than repaid its cost.

Our mining projects were not confined to the North Sea. Plans had been accepted and mines were in process of manufacture for a like barrage across the Straits of Otranto, from Brindisi, the heel of Italy, to Saseno Island. This would have effectually shut up German and Austrian submarines in the Adriatic. We had also agreed to undertake to provide and lay 26,800 mines for a barrage in the Aegean Sea from Euboea Island to Cape Kanaptitza, except for the part resting on Turkish territorial waters, which was to be established by Great Britain, since the United States was not at war with Turkey. The armistice made these barrages unnecessary.

But our mining operations were by no means concluded with the cessation of hostilities. Clearing the seas was our next duty, for navigation would not be safe until the many thousands of mines were removed. This work was divided among the various nations. The United States volunteered to remove all the mines we had laid.

Admiral Strauss, in charge of these operations, had his base at Kirkwall, and his force comprised 34 mine-sweepers, 24 sub-chasers, two tugs, two tenders and 20 British trawlers, which were also manned by U. S. naval personnel:

Repair Ships and Force Auxiliaries—Black Hawk (flagship); Panther, Seneca, Chesapeake, Aspenleaf, Crenella, and the British vessels Hickorol, Petronel and Hopkiln.

Submarine Chasers—Numbers 37, 38, 40, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 95, 110, 164, 178, 181, 182, 206, 207, 208, 254, 256, 259, 272, 329, 354, and 356.

Mine-Sweepers—Auk, Avocet, Bobolink, Chewink, Cormorant, Curlew, Eider, Falcon, Finch, Flamingo, Grebe, Heron, Kingfisher, Lapwing, Lark, Mallard, Oriole, Osprey, Pelican, Penguin, Quail, Rail, Robin, Sanderling, Seagull, Swallow, Swan, Tanager, Teal, Thrush, Turkey, Whippoorwill, Widgeon, Woodcock, Patapsco, Patuxent.

Trawlers—William Johnson, Richard Bulkeley, Thos. Blackhorne, Thomas Buckley, George Cochrane, John Collins, William Caldwell, eorge Clarice, William Darnold, Siam Duffey, John Graham, Thomas Laundry, William Ashton, George Burton, John Dunkin, Thomas Graham, Thomas Henrix, John Fitzgerald, John Clay, Pat Caharty.

I had the pleasure of visiting our mine base in Scotland just before the squadron sailed on its first expedition. Everything was ready for operations. The spirit of officers and men was inspiring. Not minimizing for a moment the difficulties they had to face, all were eager to begin the task.

They were to set forth on April 28th, but the heaviest snowstorm of the year was raging, causing 24 hours delay. The next morning the sweepers and a division of sub-chasers got under way for the barrage, while the Black Hawk and other chasers proceeded to the new base at Kirkwall. That excursion, which was experimental, was completed May 2nd.

Mines sometimes fouled in the "kites" which picked them up, and exploded as the sweep was being hauled in. The Patuxent was the victim of an accident of this kind on May 12th. Severed by an explosion, its sweep had to be hauled on board to be repaired. When the kite came within sight, a mine was seen hanging by its towing cable. The commanding officer sent all hands forward to a place of safety, going aft himself to clear it, with the assistance of his chief boatswain's mate. When the mine got within ten feet of the ship, it exploded. Several men were blown overboard by the mass of flying water, but all were rescued. The commanding officer had a narrow escape. Only a few feet from the exploding mine, his thumb was cut off by a flying fragment of steel, but luckily he escaped further injury.

Two days later, the same accident befell the Bobolink, killing its commanding officer, Lieutenant Frank Bruce, and badly damaging the ship. Seeking first the safety of his crew, Lieutenant Bruce went aft to clear the mine. Before anything could be done, it exploded, killing him and blowing the boatswain and three other men into the water. All four were rescued, though the boatswain was unconscious from the shock. The Teal took her in tow and, accompanied by the Swallow and sub-chaser No. 45, towed her to Scapa Flow.

While clearing the largest mine-group in June the force found impressive evidence of the success of the barrage. Crossing the lines of mines, the Heron and the Sanderling were brought to a standstill by an obstruction which fouled their sweeps. Oil rose to the surface, and spread out astern, giving evidence of the wreck of a submarine underneath. This was the locality in which the mine-laying squadron had sighted the body of a German sailor floating in the water. From the records of the Admiralty, it appeared that the obstruction was the wreck of the German submarine UB-127.

Six mines exploded under and around the Pelican one day in July. Deluged by the mass of water thrown up by the explosion, the forward part of the ship ruptured and flooded, the mine-sweeper was rapidly sinking. Captain R. C. Bulmer, directing the operations, went at once to her assistance. Placing his flagship, the Auk, alongside the Pelican, he connected his wrecking hose with the forward compartments, and set the pumps going to keep the damaged ship afloat. The Eider got on the other side, and did the same thing. The Teal took the three ships in tow, and the four, lashed together, headed slowly for port. The bow of the Pelican was hardly above water, but for several hours constant pumping held her up.

Then a heavy head sea arose, and the pump-lines were carried away. Water rose in the Pelican, buckling the forward bulkhead, and the vessel was liable to burst at any moment, going down in a flash. Every man on her was in danger, and it was decided to leave aboard only a few men to do necessary work. Twelve volunteers were called for. Every member of her crew stepped forward. The dozen strongest were chosen and the others, against their will, were ordered off the ship.

Fifty miles of open sea were still to be traversed. Darkness had fallen. Crews of Auk and Eider struggled desperately to get the lines repaired and pumps going. Men stood by with axes to cut the mooring lines, in case the Pelican should sink. All through the night this struggle continued, and there was a sigh of relief when day dawned with the vessel still afloat, and the ships reached the shelter of Tresness Bay.

A curious accident befell the Flamingo. While weighing anchor, steel touched copper and exploded a mine which her anchor had fouled, damaging her rudder, bending her skeg, and dishing in her stern.

The most serious disaster encountered in all our mine sweeping occurred on July 12th, the sinking of the Richard Bulkeley. Caught in its kite, a mine was seen close to her stern, near the surface. To get it further away the kite wire was being veered when the mine exploded. The after part of the ship's hull was shattered. She sank in seven minutes.

Commander Frank R. King, who was in command of the division of trawlers as well as the Bulkeley, went down with the vessel. When the blast came, his first thought was the safety of his crew. Half stunned by the explosion, one man, whose life-preserver had been blown off, struggled to the deck. Commander King took off his own life-belt, buckled it around the sailor, and helped him get clear of the ship before she took her final plunge. Until the vessel disappeared he was still hunting for members of the crew who might be left aboard. When last seen, as the Bulkeley went lower into the water, he was on the bridge. He went down with his ship, a heroic figure, sacrificing his life to save his men. It was a solemn privilege to me, a few months later, to pay tribute to the memory of this gallant officer by naming one of our new destroyers in his honor.

Altogether, two officers and nine men were killed during these hazardous operations, and 23 ships were damaged. Regrettable as was this loss of life, it was small in comparison with that of our comrades in the British mine-sweeping service.

The mine field was removed, consisting of 50,000 mines, spread over an area of some 6,000 square miles of the stormy North Sea, and the entire barrage swept up by September 30th. On that day the hazard to shipping by this vast enterprise in the North Sea was removed.

When the Mine Force returned to the United States, it was given a welcome as genuine as that accorded our battleships when they returned from service abroad. As the vessels steamed up North River, November 24, 1919, they were reviewed by the Secretary of the Navy, distinguished officers and citizens on Admiral Strauss' flagship, the Black Hawk.

This marked the end of that enterprise which "shut up the hornets in their nests"—that bold adventure which was the greatest new naval offensive of the war.

CHAPTER XIII
PRESIDENT WILSON AS A STRATEGIST

SPEAKING TO OFFICERS OF THE FLEET AT YORKTOWN, HE ADVOCATED NEW AND BOLD METHODS—"WHY NOT SHUT UP THE HORNETS IN THEIR NESTS?"—"LEAVE OUT OF YOUR VOCABULARY THE WORD 'PRUDENT'; DO THE THING THAT IS AUDACIOUS TO THE UTMOST POINT OF RISK AND DARING."

The world knows President Wilson as a scholar, teacher and historian; as executive and statesman. But it does not know him, as we did, as a master of military strategy.

His grasp of the whole situation, his clear conception of Army and Navy policies and operations, his rare judgment were demonstrated in important decisions, and his personal interest and influence had a marked effect on the conduct of the war.

Always interested in the Navy, he kept up with all that was being done and planned, and his suggestions and directions proved of the utmost value to officers and officials.

"We shall take leave to be strong upon the seas," he said not long after the beginning of the European war. In his address at St. Louis, early in 1916, he declared that ours should be "the most adequate navy in the world." At the next cabinet meeting a member expressed surprise at the President's advocacy of so vigorous a naval policy, and asked if he had been correctly quoted in the newspapers.

"Yes," replied the President, "and it is one thing I said in my swing around the circle that I absolutely believe."

He strongly urged the big construction program presented several months before, and exercised a potent influence in putting through Congress the "three year program" which authorized building 157 naval vessels.

Long before we entered the war, when the Allied navies seemed impotent before the onslaughts of the submarines, President Wilson pointed to the vigorous policies which later proved so successful.

"Daniels, why don't the British convoy their merchant ships and thus protect them from submarines?" he asked me early in the war. As sinkings increased, he pointed out that their practice of sailing ships separately had proved a failure, and asked, "Why now, with their distressing experiences, do they hesitate about adopting the convoy system?"

He could not comprehend why the British, as soon as Germany declared war, had not mined the English Channel so that no submarine could pass through it. As a matter of fact, strange as it seems, the channel from Dover to Calais never was a complete barrier to submarines, though the Dover Patrol did brilliant service, and the United States Navy insisted that closing this channel was one of the first steps toward defeating the U-boats.

"Why don't the British shut up the hornets in their nests?" he asked me just before we entered the war, and after we were embarked upon it he declared that we must insist upon some plan that would prevent the egress of the U-boats from their bases. "When our Bureau of Ordnance proposed, in April, 1917, the construction of a mine barrage across the North Sea, he was deeply interested in the plan and heartily approved it. That carried out the idea he believed the Allies should have put into effect earlier in the war. As that plan was debated and delayed, and characterized in London as "impracticable," he grew impatient of the long delay in adopting this or some other vigorous offensive against the submarines.

THE TRANSPORT WHICH CARRIED PRESIDENT WILSON TO THE PEACE CONFERENCE

An aerial view of the George Washington. This ship carried to France more soldiers than any other transport except the Leviathan.

On July 4, 1917, he sent the following cablegram to London:

"Strictly confidential." From the President for Admiral Sims.

From the beginning of the war, I have been greatly surprised at the failure of the British Admiralty to use Great Britain's great naval superiority in an effective way. In the presence of the present submarine emergency they are helpless to the point of panic. Every plan we suggest they reject for some reason of prudence. In my view this is not a time for prudence but for boldness, even at the cost of great losses.

In most of your dispatches you have quite properly advised us of the sort of aid and coöperation desired from us by the Admiralty. The trouble is that their plans and methods do not seem to us efficacious. I would be very much obliged to you if you would report to me, confidentially, of course, exactly what the Admiralty has been doing, and what they have accomplished, and, added to the report, your own comments and suggestions, based upon independent thought of the whole situation, without regard to the judgment of any one on that side of the water.

The Admiralty was very slow to adopt the protection of convoy and it is not now, I judge, protecting convoys on adequate scale within the danger zone, seeming to keep small craft with the Grand Fleet. The absence of craft for convoy is even more apparent on the French coast than on the English coast and in the Channel. I do not see how the necessary military supplies and supplies of food and fuel oil are to be delivered at British ports in any other way within the next few months than under adequate convoy. There will presently not be ships or tankers enough and our shipbuilding plans may not begin to yield important results in less than eighteen months.

I believe that you will keep these instructions absolutely and entirely to yourself, and that you will give me such advice as you would give if you were handling the situation yourself, and if you were running a Navy of your own.

Woodrow Wilson.

ALLIED NAVAL COUNCIL IN SESSION AT PARIS

Admiral Sims at the extreme left, Admiral Benson third from left end. In the center Sir Eric Geddes (bareheaded), First Lord of the Admiralty, and M. Legues, French Minister of Marine. At the left of M. Legues is Admiral Beatty, and back of him, to his right, Admiral Long.

Admiral Sims made an extended and detailed reply to this cablegram, but it evidently did not satisfy the President, as was shown a month later, in his address to the Fleet.

That visit to the Fleet, August 11, 1917, was a notable occasion. It was the first time, I believe, that a President has, in the midst of war, gone to the chief naval rendezvous and gathered the officers about him for a heart-to-heart talk. Standing on the quarter deck of the Pennsylvania, surrounded by admirals, captains, commanders and other ranks, he could see all around him the dreadnaughts which are the embodiment of national strength and naval power. In the background was Yorktown, where Cornwallis' surrender marked the culminating victory of the Revolution. And in this historic spot American forces were again making history.

The President had slipped away so quietly from Washington that few knew he was gone. Not only the speech he made, but the very fact of his visit was long kept secret. But that address, informal and confidential as it was, deserves a place in naval history.

Disclaiming any idea that he had come "with malice prepense to make a speech," he told the officers that he had come to have a look at them and say some things that might be best said intimately and in confidence. "One of the deprivations which any man in authority experiences," he exclaimed, "is that he cannot come into constant and intimate touch with the men with whom he is associated and necessarily associated in action." "The whole circumstance of the modern time," is extraordinary, calling for extraordinary action, he pointed out and said:

Now, the point that is constantly in my mind, gentlemen, is this: This is an unprecedented war and, therefore, it is a war in one sense for amateurs. Nobody ever before conducted a war like this and therefore nobody can pretend to be a professional in a war like this. Here are two great navies, not to speak of the others associated with us, our own and the British, outnumbering by a very great margin the navy to which we are opposed and yet casting about for a way in which to use our superiority and our strength, because of the novelty of the instruments used, because of the unprecedented character of the war; because, as I said just now, nobody ever before fought a war like this, in the way that this is being fought at sea, or on land either, for that matter. The experienced soldier,—experienced in previous wars,—is a back number so far as his experience is concerned; not so far as his intelligence is concerned. His experience does not count, because he never fought a war as this is being fought, and therefore he is an amateur along with the rest of us. Now, somebody has got to think this war out. Somebody has got to think out the way not only to fight the submarine, but to do something different from what we are doing.

We are hunting hornets all over the farm and letting the nest alone. None of us knows how to go to the nest and crush it, and yet I despair of hunting for hornets all over the sea when I know where the nest is and know that the nest is breeding hornets as fast as I can find them. I am willing for my part, and I know you are willing, because I know the stuff you are made of—I am willing to sacrifice half the navy, Great Britain and we together have to crush that nest, because if we crush it, the war is won. I have come here to say that I do not care where it comes from, I do not care whether it comes from the youngest officer or the oldest, but I want the officers of this Navy to have the distinction of saying how this war is going to be won.

The Secretary of the Navy and I have just been talking over plans for putting the planning machinery of the Navy at the disposal of the brains of the Navy and not stopping to ask what rank that brains has, because, as I have said before and want to repeat, so far as experience in this kind of war is concerned we are all of the same rank. I am not saying that I do not expect the admirals to tell us what to do, but I am saying that I want the youngest and most modest youngster in the service to tell us what we ought to do if he knows what it is. Now I am willing to make any sacrifice for that. I mean any sacrifice of time or anything else. I am ready to put myself at the disposal of any officer in the Navy who thinks he knows how to run this war. I will not undertake to tell you whether he does or not, because I know I cannot, but I will undertake to put him in communication with those who can find out whether his idea will work or not. I have the authority to do that and I will do it with the greatest pleasure. The idea that is in my mind all the time is that we are comrades in this thing."

"I wish that I could think and had the brains to think in the terms of marine warfare," he remarked, "because I would feel then that I was figuring out the future history of the political freedom of mankind."

"We have got to throw tradition to the winds," he exclaimed, and went on to say:

Now, as I have said, gentlemen, I take it for granted that nothing that I say here will be repeated and therefore I am going to say this: Every time we have suggested anything to the British Admiralty the reply has come back that virtually amounted to this, that it had never been done that way, and I felt like saying, "Well, nothing was ever done so systematically as nothing is being done now." Therefore, I should like to see something unusual happen, something that was never done before; and inasmuch as the things that are being done to you were never done before, don't you think it is worth while to try something that was never done before against those who are doing them to you? There is no other way to win, and the whole principle of this war is the kind of thing that ought to hearten and stimulate America.

America has always boasted that she could find men to do anything. She is the prize amateur nation of the world. Germany is the prize professional nation of the world. Now, when it comes to doing new things and doing them well, I will back the amateur against the professional every time, because the professional does it out of the book and the amateur does it with his eyes open upon a new world and with a new set of circumstances. He knows so little about it that he is fool enough to try the right thing. The men that do not know the danger are the rashest men, and I have several times ventured to make this suggestion to the men about me in both arms of the service: Please leave out of your vocabulary altogether the word "prudent." Do not stop to think about what is prudent for a moment. Do the thing that is audacious to the utmost point of risk and daring, because that is exactly the thing that the other side does not understand, and you will win by the audacity of method when you cannot win by circumspection and prudence.

I think that there are willing ears to hear this in the American Navy and the American Army, because that is the kind of folks we are. We get tired of the old ways and covet the new ones.

So, gentlemen, besides coming down here to give you my personal greeting and to say how absolutely I rely on you and believe in you, I have come down here to say also that I depend on you, depend on you for brains as well as training and courage and discipline. You are doing your job admirably, the job that you have been taught to do; now let us do something that we were never taught to do and do it just as well as we are doing the older and more habitual things, and do not let anybody ever put one thought of discouragement into your minds. I do not know what is the matter with the newspapers of the United States. I suppose they have to vary the tune from time to time just to relieve their minds, but every now and then a wave of the most absurd discouragement and pessimism goes through the country and we hear nothing except of the unusual advantages and equipment and sagacity and preparation and all the other wonderful things of the German Army and Navy. My comment is always the very familiar comment, "Rats!" They are working under infinite disadvantages. They not only have no more brains than we have, but they have a different and less serviceable kind of brains than we have, if we will use the brains we have got. I am not discouraged for a moment, particularly because we have not even begun and, without saying anything in disparagement of those with whom we are associated in the war, I do expect things to begin when we begin. If they do not, American history will have changed its course; the American Army and Navy will have changed their character. There will have to come a new tradition into a service which does not do new and audacious and successful things.

A short time after the President made this declaration on his flagship, Admiral Mayo was dispatched to Europe, where he pressed upon the British Admiralty the necessity of constructing the North Sea barrage. Finally in October, six months after the plan had been presented, this great project, in line with President Wilson's idea of bold and new things in naval warfare, was undertaken.

From many quarters tips came to the President of possible surprise action and not a few orders to Naval Intelligence to send out secret service men to run down a clue were the result of suggestions emanating from the President. Sometimes, unannounced and unheralded, during the war, he would drop in at the Navy Department, and quite as often at the War Department, and he never came merely to visit, agreeable as social intercourse would have been. He had an idea every time, a practical suggestion, or a desire to be informed of progress in some particular undertaking which he was following with deep interest.

Sometimes when he dropped in unexpectedly to make a suggestion—(he had a habit of calling directions "suggestions" when speaking to a Cabinet member)—I sometimes wondered if he was not as much influenced in making his personal calls to give encouragement and support, and the helpful personal touch, as to discuss strategy or tactics or policy. Certainly these visits heartened and strengthened those of us who in trying times were charged with heavy responsibility. He knew, too, what was going on. He often surprised me by his knowledge of the comparative qualities of men he had never seen—how accurate was his appraisement, how his questioning of them showed the military leadership which few people thought the college professor possessed. He never left my office, and I never left the White House, after a conference during the war, without the reflection that the world had lost a great military leader when it gained a great educator and executive.

When we were transporting soldiers through the infested zones he was anxious, intensely interested, and read every cablegram concerning the troop-ships. When he did not come in person, in crucial days, there would come from the White House frequent memoranda written by himself on his little typewriter, asking for some information or making an illuminating suggestion, signed " W. W." Those " W. W." notes never had a spare word, and they showed the same clearness and vision which John Hay tells us Lincoln had when he would go over to see Stanton, or Gideon Welles in the dark days of Civil War.

There is a feeling among many military men that civilians "butt in" when they give their views on strategy. It is notorious how some of the generals in the War between the States resented the suggestions of Mr. Lincoln, suggestions which as a rule displayed sounder judgment of the way to win battles than the military experts had shown.

I recall one admiral during the war, who, upon receiving, through the diplomatic representatives of our Government, President Wilson's strong opinion that a certain important offensive should be adopted, asked: "What does the President want to butt in for? What does he know about it?" As to that particular matter the President, from long study and reflection, found that it was necessary to "butt in," because some naval leaders of more than one nation lacked the vision to do the bold and the new thing to win.

President Wilson took no perfunctory interest in the Navy. In fact, he had the keenest naval instinct. People, you know, are born with a passion for some one thing, or in their youth it comes to them. When Thomas Woodrow Wilson was a boy—(he had not then dropped the Thomas)—he picked out for himself a naval career. What a jolly good captain he would have made of the "Virginia" or the "New Jersey!" Living as a boy on a river, he loved boating next to books, or even before books. He had a penchant for sailing and loved sea stories, and his ambition was to follow Jones and Farragut.

When the opportunity was within reach to go to the Naval Academy at Annapolis, his father, a scholarly Presbyterian preacher of the old school, who knew his son's real mission in life better than Thomas Woodrow, said, in substance, "No; you are not meant for the sea; letters, literature, books, statesmanship for you." I do not know whether the future President accepted the parental dictum with the nautically cheerful "Aye, aye, sir," but he accepted it, and the Navy lost an officer who would probably have destroyed many precedents and won many victories, when the father snatched him from the topsail and sent him down below to the drudgery of learning languages and political economy.

I do not know a civilian who employs more naval terms. The call to the sea is in his blood. His father kept him out of the Navy, but he could not keep the Navy out of him, or the Navy lore and lingo, any more than you can keep the Quaker out of a Quaker by turning him out of meeting. At sea President Wilson loved to wear whites or blues, as near regulation as a civilian can, to don a cap, to watch the heaving of the lead and the weighing of the anchor, and listen to the "shiver-my-timbers" talk that one overhears from the older sailors on duty.

CHAPTER XIV
COMRADES OF THE MIST

U. S. BATTLESHIPS WITH BRITISH GRAND FLEET—DREADNAUGHTS UNDER RODMAN FORMED SIXTH BATTLE SQUADRON—ASSIGNED POST OF HONOR—ATTACKED SIX TIMES BY SUBMARINES—U-BOAT RAMMED THE "NEW YORK," CAUGHT IN ITS PROPELLER— THREE BATTLESHIPS, UNDER RODGERS, AT BANTRY BAY—SURRENDER OF GERMAN FLEET.

There was a thrill through all the Grand Fleet, a storm of cheers sweeping from Admiral Beatty's flagship down to the last destroyer that December morning when the United States dreadnaughts, under Admiral Hugh Rodman, steamed around the headlands, up the curved channel, and down the long line of British battleships, dropping anchor among them.

Twelve days at sea, weathering a gale that raged for three days, they had had a hard voyage. Nearing the coast in the pitch-black darkness of a starless night, they had, a few hours before, been met by a division of destroyers which escorted them to port. The sun, which rises late in that northern clime, broke through the mist as they reached the entrance to the harbor. Seaplanes circled the vessels, and a kite balloon's heliograph flashed its welcome.

The New York led the way, Admiral Rodman and his staff on the bridge, while Admiral Beatty, commander-in-chief, surrounded by his crew, stood on the deck of the Queen Elizabeth. On all the ships the officers and crews, manning the rails, stood at attention.

The "Star Spangled Banner" came rolling from the British bands, and the American bands played "God Save the King." This was according to custom, but it was a real surprise to our sailors when there came from the British vessels an outburst of cheers that ran clear down the line. That seemed like home to our boys, and they replied with Yankee yells until Scapa resounded with such a roar of sound as it never heard before.

"This is the most enthusiastic welcome an American squadron ever received anywhere," Admiral Rodman remarked. As soon as the ships anchored, Admiral Rodman made his official call on Admiral Beatty, on the Queen Elizabeth. As they exchanged greetings, Admiral Rodman said:

"We are here, and we put ourselves entirely at your command. We ask no favors or privileges. We only want to be one of you. In a sense we feel that we are no longer merely the American Navy. We are now rather an integral part of your fleet for the purpose of unified prosecution of our great common aim. We have not come merely to take part in the spectacular side of your work. We want to do our fair share of everything, duties pleasant and unpleasant alike. We do not come to be your guests but to be co-workers. We do not want to be entertained; we want to work." That was characteristic of Rodman, who was selected to command our greatest ships overseas because of his outstanding ability as a great officer.

"Today marks an epoch in the history of England and America," said Admiral Beatty, expressing the pleasure with which he had looked forward to the coming.

There was sealed the firm friendship of those "Comrades of the Mist," the British and American dreadnaughts in that Grand Fleet, which formed the greatest aggregation of naval power the world ever saw, and whose very existence kept the German High Seas Fleet contained in its home ports, never again to venture out until it slunk to Scapa Flow in surrender.

The American dreadnaughts which served with the Grand Fleet were the New York (flagship), Captain C. F. Hughes, afterwards commanded by Captain E. L. Beach; the Texas, Captain Victor Blue; the Wyoming, Captain H. A. Wiley, afterward Captain H. H. Christy; the Arkansas, Captain W. H. G. Bullard, afterward Captain L. R. de Steiguer; the Florida, Captain Thomas Washington, afterward Captain M. M. Taylor; and the Delaware, Captain A. H. Scales.

"It is a matter of pride," said Admiral Rodman, "that we were at once able to coördinate and coöperate with the British intelligently, without the slightest hesitancy, friction or misunderstanding. We adopted and could use their signals, radio, secret codes and other communication—and that is one of the hardest problems we have in the Navy—and could efficiently execute their tactics and maneuvers and conform to their war plans. This was put to the test when within three days after our arrival a signal was made for all ships to be ready to proceed to sea for active service and we reported ready when the time came.

"From that day to the end of the war we took part in every major operation in the North Sea, and some independent smaller ones. There was never a time but that we were ready when called upon. We could always steam full speed, maintain our position, and we received nothing but the highest praise not only from the British admirals, officers and men, but from those of our own navy who visited us.