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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:

Destroyers and Date of Sailing	Commanding Officer
Wadsworth—April 24	Lt. Comdr. J. K. Taussig
Conyngham—April 24	Lt. Comdr. A. W. Johnson
Porter—April 24	Lt. Comdr. W. K. Wortman
McDougal—April 24	Lt. Comdr. A. P. Fairfield
Davis—April 24	Lt. Comdr. R. F. Zogbaum
Wainwright—April 24	Lt. Comdr. F. H. Poteet
Rowan—May 7	Lt. Comdr. C. E. Courtney
Tucker—May 7	Lt. Comdr. B. B. Wygant
Cassin—May 7	Lt. Comdr. W. N. Vernou
Ericsson—May 7	Lt. Comdr. C. T. Hutchins
Winslow—May 7	Lt. Comdr. N. E. Nichols
Jacob Jones—May 7	Lt. Comdr. D. W. Bagley
Melville (tender)—May 11	Commander H. B. Price
Cushing—May 15	Lt. Comdr. D. C. Hanrahan
Nicholson—May 15	Lt. Comdr. B. A. Long
Sampson—May 15	Lt. Comdr. B. C. Allen
Cummings—May 15	Lt. Comdr. G. F. Neal
Benham—May 15	Lt. Comdr. J. B. Gay
O'Brien—May 15	Lt. Comdr. C. A. Blakely
Patterson—May 21	Lieut. J. H. Newton
Warrington—May 21	Lieut. I. F. Dortch
Drayton—May 21	Lieut. D. L. Howard
Jenkins—May 21	Lieut. W. H. Lee
Paulding—May 21	Lieut. J. S. Barleon
Trippe—May 21	Lieut. R. C. Giffen
Sterrett—May 23	Lieut. G. W. Simpson
Walke—May 23	Lieut. C. F. Russell
Jarvis—May 25	Lieut. L. P. Davis
Perkins—May 25	Lieut. F. M. Knox
Dixie (tender)—May 31	Commander J. R. P. Pringle
Burrows—June 14	Lieut. H. V. McKittrick
Fanning—June 14	Lieut. A. S. Carpender
Allen—June 14	Commander S. W. Bryant
Wilkes—June 14	Lt. Comdr. J. C. Fremont
Ammen—June 17	Lieut. G. C. Logan
Shaw—June 17	Lt. Comdr. M. S. Davis
Parker—June 17	Lt. Comdr. H. Powell

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?