Winning a Cause Part 13

"Some day it will all be chronicled, and not the least fascinating record will be that of men who, perhaps, never fired a shot but enlarged their vision of the recesses of the enemy mind in other ways and met his craft by deeper craft, or navigated African rivers, fringed by desolate mangrove swamps, in gunboats, or hammered down the Mediterranean in East Coast trawlers, boys on their first command, or saw with their own eyes things they had believed to be fables.

"'We travel about 1000 miles a week, most of it in practically unknown seas, full of uncharted coral reefs, rocks, islands, whose existence even is unknown. And by way of making things still more difficult we keep meeting floating islands.

"'I always thought these things were merely yarns out of boys'

adventure books. However, I have seen five, the largest about the size of a football field. They are covered with trees and palms, some of them with ripe bananas on them. They get torn away from the swampy parts of the mainland by the typhoons, which are very frequent at this time of year.'

"The story of these things cannot be written here; it will fill many volumes. Here an attempt has been made to sketch merely in its broadest outlines some of the activities of British sailors during the greatest of wars. Whatever the future historian will say of the part they bore he will not minimize it, for on this pivot the whole matter turned, on this axis the great circle of the war revolved. He will affirm that, though in respect of numbers almost negligible compared with the soldiers who fought in the long series of land battles, the sailors held the central avenues, the citadel of power.

"If it be possible in a single paragraph, let us set before our eyes the work of the British navy and its auxiliaries during these loud and angry years. Let us first recall the fact, that, besides the protection of Britain and her dependencies from invasion, together with the preservation of her overseas trade, to the navy was intrusted a duty it has fulfilled with equal success, the protection of the coasts of France from naval bombardment or attack--no slight service to Britain's gallant ally. Behind this barrier of the British fleet, she continued to arm and munition her armies undisturbed. Recall, too, the French colonial armies as well as our own overseas troops, escorted to the various seats of war--more than seven million men--the vital communications of the Allies, north and south, secured; the supplies and munitions--seven million tons--carried overseas; 1,250,000 horses and mules embarked, carried and disembarked; the left wing of the Belgian force supported in Flanders by bombardment; the Serbian army transferred to a new zone of war; and last, if we may call last what is really first and the mastering cause of all the rest, Germany's immense navy fettered in her ports. Bring also to mind that fifty or sixty of her finest war vessels have been destroyed, besides many Austrian and Turkish; five or six million tons of the enemy's mercantile marine captured or driven to rust in harbor; her trade ruined, a strict blockade of her ports established which impoverishes day by day her industrial and fighting strength; hundreds of thousands of Germans overseas prevented from joining her armies; her wireless and coaling stations over all the world and her colonial empire, that ambitious and costly fabric of her dreams, cut off from the Fatherland and brought helplessly to the ground.

"When all this has been pa.s.sed in review dwell for a moment on the matter reversed--but for the British fleet Germany's will would now be absolute, her emperor the master of the world."

"I KNEW YOU WOULD COME"

We are all very proud that America was permitted to have a share in the holiest defensive war ever known. Then let us also remember that our share in it was largely made possible by England. While we hesitated, considered, debated, who was it that maintained the freedom of the seas and kept inviolate our coasts? The great, gallant, modest navy of Great Britain.

Despite her desperate need of us England uttered no reproaches, and she never seemed to doubt our final decision. It recalls an incident which I discussed with British officers as I stood with them in a concealed observation post on a summit of Vimy Ridge in September. On a dark night a raid on the German trenches was made, and in the party were two brothers, English lads. The raid was successful, but when the men returned one of the brothers was missing. The other pleaded for permission to return and bring him in. The colonel refused on the ground that the attempt would be both dangerous and fruitless.

Finally, he yielded to the lad's pa.s.sionate pleading, and the young soldier crawled out into No Man's Land, returning a half hour later with a machine gun bullet in his shoulder, yet gently carrying the brother, whose spirit rose to the ranks of the greater army just as they reached the trench. "You see, my boy," said the colonel, "it was useless, your brother is gone, and you are wounded." "No, colonel,"

replied the lad, "it was not useless. I had my reward, for just as I found him out there, he said, 'Is that you, Tom? I knew you would come.'"

This seems a fitting moment not only to thank G.o.d that we came in time to be of service, but to thank England for her patience and her confidence which have never failed. If after entering the war we are gratified at placing two million men quickly upon the battlefield, let us remember that nearly 1,200,000 of them were transported in British vessels and convoyed by British wars.h.i.+ps.

America is beginning to know England. We honored her before; we felt the tie of blood and speech; we were grateful to her for most of our best. But we never knew England as we know her now. That first hundred thousand that gladly flung their lives away for righteousness'

sake; the happy lads of Oxford and Cambridge who gave their joyous youth that joy might not depart from earth; the colonials who came from the ends of the world that the old mother might live, and that honor and justice should not perish; these have added brighter pages to England's records of glory. Today one knows England better and one is very proud to be her ally. For the light which s.h.i.+nes from England is steadfast faithfulness to plighted honor, to the safety of her children, and to those ideals of civilization of which she has for centuries been the chief and responsible custodian.

REV. ERNEST M. STIPES, D.D.

From _The Churchman_, N. Y.

THE SEARCHLIGHTS

_Political morality differs from individual morality, because there is no power above the State_.--GENERAL VON BERNHARDI.

Shadow by shadow, stripped for fight, The lean black cruisers search the sea.

Night-long their level shafts of light Revolve and find no enemy.

Only they know each leaping wave May hide the lightning and their grave.

And, in the land they guard so well, Is there no silent watch to keep?

An age is dying; and the bell Rings midnight on a vaster deep; But over all its waves once more The searchlights move from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e.

And captains that we thought were dead, And dreamers that we thought were dumb, And voices that we thought were fled Arise and call us, and we come; And "Search in thine own soul," they cry, "For there, too, lurks thine enemy."

Search for the foe in thine own soul, The sloth, the intellectual pride, The trivial jest that veils the goal For which our fathers lived and died; The lawless dreams, the cynic art, That rend thy n.o.bler self apart.

Not far, not far into the night These level swords of light can pierce: Yet for her faith does England fight, Her faith in this our universe, Believing Truth and Justice draw From founts of everlasting law.

Therefore a Power above the State, The unconquerable Power, returns.

The fire, the fire that made her great, Once more upon her altar burns.

Once more, redeemed and healed and whole, She moves to the Eternal Goal.

ALFRED NOYES

FIGHTING A DEPTH BOMB

All who have read of the sinking of the _Lusitania_, by a torpedo, shot from a German U-boat, realize the terribly destructive force of this modern weapon of war, but many do not know that the depth bomb is even more destructive and must be handled with much greater care to be sure that it does not explode accidentally or prematurely. The bomb usually contains from 100 to 500 pounds of tri-nitro-toluol, or T.N.T., as it is usually called, the most powerful of all explosives. The explosion of a s.h.i.+p loaded with it in Halifax harbor, December 6, 1917, caused almost as great a loss of life and property as a volcanic eruption.

When the 500 pounds of T.N.T. is exploded it changes suddenly into nearly 80,000 cubic feet of gas. Now this amount of gas will fill a room 160 feet long, 25 feet wide, and 20 feet high. When the bomb explodes under the water the gas must find room somewhere, and with tremendous force it pushes the water in all directions. If a hollow submarine is near the point of the explosion, its walls will give way easier than the water around it and it is crushed like an empty egg sh.e.l.l.

Only very swift boats should drop the depth bombs from their sterns, for the boat must be moving at a rate of at least twenty-five miles an hour to be sure to escape damage from the bombs dropped behind her.

John Mackenzie, the hero of this story, writes in regard to the converted yachts used for dropping depth bombs in European waters as follows: "Only destroyers made speed exceeding 25 knots. There were no converted yachts operating in European waters capable of making 25 knots. A very few made 15 to 18 and the majority about 12. Of course we had to take our chances in getting away safely, although we knew that the chances were about even. That is, we were in about as much danger from our depth charges as the enemy was." His statement shows the risks that American sailors were willing to take.

The bomb, of course, weighs over one hundred pounds. It is made with one end flattened, upon which it will stand, and in the early types its accidental discharge is rendered practically impossible by a sort of peg called a safety pin, which must be removed before the bomb is dropped. The use of depth bombs against the U-boats made fighting in the German submarines so dangerous and so much to be dreaded, that it is said, as the war drew to a close, all U-boat crews had to be forced into service, and that none of them expected ever to return and see their homes and friends again.

In the early days of the war the bombs were carried in cradles, and later in racks or run-ways. From most of the bombs the detonator, which would fire them, was removed; but some were kept ready for instant firing, near the stern of the s.h.i.+p. The early type of bomb was discharged by a length of wire attached to a float. The bomb itself sank, the float remained on the surface of the water and reeled off the wire until the pull upon it discharged the bomb. It can be readily seen that the depth at which the bomb was discharged would depend upon the length of wire attached to the float. Imagine what might follow if one of these bombs, set ready for discharge, should break loose from its case in a storm at sea.

Such a terrible accident did happen on the U.S.S. Remlik. The s.h.i.+p was groaning and tossing in a very heavy sea, for a severe storm was raging. She gave a lurch and pitched back with so much force that a wooden box, containing a depth bomb and securely fastened to the after deck, suddenly broke. The bomb rolled out of the box and began to bound back and forth across the deck as the s.h.i.+p lurched and pitched from side to side.

The crew seemed stunned, and no orders were issued for concerted action. The frightfulness of the situation was greatly increased when it was observed that the safety pin had dropped out. All expected the next time the bomb struck with force against the rail that the float section would be released and reel off enough wire to fire the detonator and utterly destroy the s.h.i.+p and all aboard.

But Chief Boatswain's Mate, John Mackenzie of the Naval Reserve Fleet, needed no orders. He saw what should be done and did not wait for some one to order him to do it. He could not pick up the bomb in his arms and throw it overboard, for it weighed too much, and even if he could this might be the worst thing to do. The s.h.i.+p was laboring and barely holding her own with no headway, although the engines were turning over for 8 knots, and the bomb would no doubt have exploded directly under the s.h.i.+p had it gone overboard.

Mackenzie had a plan, and the first step in it was to stop the bomb.

He threw himself in front of it and tried to hold it by his arms and the weight of his body, but the weight and the momentum of the moving bomb were too great and he was pushed aside; but he had stopped its movement somewhat so that when it struck the rail on the other side of the deck it did not explode. He jumped for it as it bounded back from the rail and almost stopped it, but it seemed to those looking on that the hundreds of pounds of metal and explosives would roll over his body and seriously injure him. He escaped this, however, and slowed down the movement of the heavy bomb to such an extent that near the opposite rail he was able to grasp it, lying with feet and hands braced in the grating of the gun platform. Then to be sure that it did not escape him until help came, he turned it upright upon its flattened end and sat down upon the most destructive bomb used in war, on the deck, of a s.h.i.+p lurching at sea in a severe storm.

Then other members of the crew that had been watching him as if dazed ran to his a.s.sistance, and the bomb was soon placed in safety.

The commanding officer of the _Remlik_ recommended that Chief Boatswain's Mate, John Mackenzie, be awarded the Medal of Honor. The report to the Secretary of the Navy was in part as follows:--

"Mackenzie in acting as he did, exposed his life and prevented a serious accident to the s.h.i.+p and the probable loss of the s.h.i.+p and the entire crew. Had this depth charge exploded on the quarterdeck, with the sea and the wind that existed at the time, there is no doubt that the s.h.i.+p would have been lost."

Mackenzie was awarded by the Navy Department the Medal of Honor, and a gratuity of one hundred dollars; but these awards are of little value compared with the greater reward which comes to him in the admiration and respect of all who read or hear the story of his heroic deed.

THE SECOND LINE OF DEFENSE

In Norwich, England, stands a memorial which will forever be visited and prized by travelers from every part of the world, and especially by the people of England and of Belgium. It is the statue erected to Edith Cavell, the British nurse who was wrongfully condemned to death for helping innocent women and children to escape from the terrible cruelties of the invading Huns. That her fine courage equals the bravery of any soldier is indicated in the sculptor's work itself. It represents a soldier of the Allies looking up toward her strong, kindly face, raising in his right hand a laurel wreath to place at one side of her, opposite the one already hung at the other.