Soon all the fellows who were
on lifeboat watch were gathered in a group about the smoke
stack, where they had procured a number of life-preservers from
a near-by locker and arranged them for beds in available places
on the deck. Here some reclined as best they could and others
sat up telling stories or woke the echoes with their ringing
songs. Sleep became impossible, and no wonder, for they were too
glad to sleep, even had the rest of the gang permitted it. Soon
a lusty-lunged Gob, the 'Caruso' of the gang, was singing the
official song of Mine Squadron One in his deep sonorous voice,
which drowned all other sounds. The title is 'The Force of
Mine,' and it goes like this:
We sailed across the water,
We sailed across the foam
For fourteen days and fourteen nights
We sailed away from home.
But now three thousand miles away
We love our country more,
Let's give three cheers for Uncle Sam
From off the German shore.
"The rest of the fellows all joined in the chorus:
It's a mine here and a mine there,
Over the ocean everywhere;
Now our ships can cross the sea
And win the war for Liberty;
Uncle Sammy brought his ships
To France' and Belgium's shores.
That force of mine has done its share;
We've fixed the U-boat fair and square;
When victory comes they'll all declare
That mines have won the war.
"Then the strong voice of 'Caruso' again was heard:
We may not look like dreadnaughts,
But from all present signs
Davy Jones has told the Kaiser
That "we're there" on laying mines.
Awhile ago the subs, you know,
Thought they had the gravy,
But when they hit our mine fields, Oh!
They leave the Germany navy.
"By this time the crew on the boat next the Roanoke had caught
the spirit and both lookouts joined in the swelling chorus:
It's a mine here and a mine there,
Over the ocean everywhere.
Now our ships can cross the sea
And win the war for Lib -
"Just at that part of the chorus we felt a crash which broke
suddenly into the song with the thrilling tones of the siren's
danger signal. Instantly those on watch rushed to the lifeboats
and hurriedly unlashed them, ready to drop at the proper signal.
"Our ship carried eight hundred and forty mines at the time she
was struck.
"The men below came up through the hatches like bees. Many were
in their night clothes, others were only half dressed. Some were
crying, others praying, all thought that the boat was sinking.
One of the fellows was so frightened he tried to jump overboard.
He was hit on the head by a comrade and dragged down below. It
was with great difficulty that order was again restored and the
hatches had to be guarded by men with revolvers. Finally the
panic-stricken sailors, who were running here and there on the
deck, were forced below. Several boats came alongside and threw
lights on our ship. The light revealed a hole cut in her side
from about ten feet below the water line clear to the top.
"She had been struck on the starboard stern while some of the
men were crawling into their hammocks for the night. An English
vessel stood by us with her nose rammed into the side of our
ship. Breathlessly, expectant we all waited by our boats ready
to lower them. The biggest job I had was in keeping some of the
men out of mine. So violent had been the impact that the sailor
in the hammock near the side where the ship was struck was
pitched over three others. A few of the men were scalded by the
hot water and steam from the broken pipes. Our chaplain, who was
just in the act of getting into his hammock, was thrown
violently down, cutting the side of his head open, which
necessitated his removal to the hospital.
"The collision mat was dropped down the side of the ship, which
stopped the inpour of the water. All the large pumps in the ship
were started and the water was pumped out as fast as it came in.
The hole was patched up with a prodigious quantity of cement and
at 12:30 the old ship was under way again."
Thus ended the story of those terrible nights at sea. We went to
our rooms, but not to sleep, for through the semi-conscious
hours that came and went we seemed to hear voices calling for
help from sinking ships and to see again those frightful billows
of the boundless deep.
"Late to bed and early to rise; makes tired travelers rub sore
eyes," said George, as we rapped on his door at what he
considered an unearthly hour for rising. On asking him "why the
trouble with his eyes" he exclaimed, "too much sea in them." We
told him that to sleep away the wondrous beauty of the dawn
instead of imbibing the fragrance and freshness of the morning
hours would be a sin of omission that would require yards of
sack-cloth and barrels of ashes for forgiveness. He arose in due
time (also dew-time), though he at first murmured and grumbled
like a soldier on hearing reveille.
Out in the east a faint glimmer was seen to delicately edge the
pearl gray of the sky along the horizon. The sheen spread
swiftly toward the zenith; pale bars of light shot up like
advance guards to herald the coming splendor.
