A Gunner Aboard the "Yankee" Part 26

With the U.S.S. "Yankton" (which had run out of coal) in tow, we proceeded to Guantanamo. While entering the bay, the first fleet of transports bearing troops for the invasion of Porto Rico was encountered. Inside the harbor a vast squadron of American s.h.i.+ps lay at anchor--some forty vessels in all. The spectacle of such a mighty fleet bearing our beloved colors was indeed inspiring.

We found the "Iowa," "Ma.s.sachusetts," "Indiana," "Oregon," "Texas," "New York," "Marblehead," "Detroit," "Newark," "Porter," "Terror,"

"Gloucester," the repair s.h.i.+p "Vulcan," several despatch boats and colliers in the bay. Two gunboats and several steamers captured at Santiago also bore the American colors.

Such a fleet many an important port has never seen, and in New York harbor would draw immense crowds. Here the spectacle was wasted on unappreciative Cubans.

The bay presented a lively appearance with the innumerable little launches and despatch boats darting about from s.h.i.+p to s.h.i.+p. Vessels went alongside sailing colliers to have their bunkers replenished; other s.h.i.+ps entered or left at all hours; signals were continually flying from the flags.h.i.+p; occasionally a Spanish launch bearing a flag of truce would come down from the town, and in the midst of it all the crews of the different men-of-war worked on in the accustomed routine, as if peace and war, drills and fighting, were all a part of man's ordinary existence.

Over a month ago we had sailed into this harbor with the "Marblehead"; the s.h.i.+p cleared for action, the crews at their loaded guns, and the battle ensigns flying from fore and mainmast, as well as from taffrail.

This time we entered the bay with a feeling that we were to take part in a great naval spectacle.

As soon as we joined the fleet we became amenable to fleet discipline.

All orders for routine work came from the flags.h.i.+p. "Quarters" were held but twice a day instead of three times, and then they were short and, therefore, sweet.

Each morning at eight o'clock, when a war vessel is in port, the bugler plays "colors," while the drummer beats three rolls; those of the crew who are under the open sky stand at attention, silent, facing aft, where the flag is being hauled slowly to its place. At the completion of the call all hands salute; then the work is carried on. It is a beautiful ceremony.

Saluting the "colors" morning and evening is not merely a mark of respect for the Government of the nation, but is an act of wors.h.i.+p to the G.o.d of nations--a silent prayer for guidance and care and an expression of thankfulness.

Shortly after "colors" the morning following our arrival at Guantanamo, orders were given to "turn to" on the ammunition. Launches and barges from other wars.h.i.+ps came alongside, and the charges of powder and the sh.e.l.ls were transferred to them.

When this cargo of deadly explosive began to come aboard a "magazine watch" was set. The ammunition was stowed in all parts of the s.h.i.+p--forward, main, and after holds were filled. A watch was set on each of the holds. It was their duty to watch the temperature day and night and to report the same to the officer of the deck every half hour.

Extreme care was taken to guard against fire. In case fire was discovered, it was the duty of the man on watch to run and turn on the water--the key for the valve which regulated this being always carried on his wrist. Then he must notify the officer of the deck, shouting "fire" as he went, after which he must go back and with the hose endeavor to put out the blaze.

Constant, wide-awake, alert watchfulness was necessary. It was hot and close below, and at night it was almost impossible to keep awake. It is difficult enough to keep wide awake for an hour's lookout on deck, when there is much to see and the air is brisk and invigorating, but it is quite a different matter to be roused in the middle of the night to stand two hours' watch in a close, hot hold, where nothing more interesting than cases of powder and the bare, blank sides of the s.h.i.+p are to be seen.

At first, the knowledge that the lives of all on board and the safety of the s.h.i.+p herself depended on the alertness of the watch, kept us wide awake and anxious, but as time went on, it grew harder and harder to resist nature's demand for sleep; therefore, when the order was given to unload the ammunition, none were gladder than the men of the "magazine watches."

After evening mess the boatswain's mate--he got his orders from the bridge--came aft, shouting as he walked, "All you men who want to go in swimming may do so right away."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "HE GOT HIS ORDERS FROM THE BRIDGE"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "ALL YOU MEN WHO WANT TO GO IN SWIMMING MAY DO SO"]

There was no doubt as to the popularity of that order. "All we men"

wanted to go in swimming, and that right away. In a jiffy, white figures began to drop over the side with a splash, and soon shouts of glee filled the air. The water was warm and clear as crystal, and so dense with salt that a man diving, came up like a cork. In fifteen minutes the order "Knock off swimming" was pa.s.sed, and though we left the water with reluctance, obedience was prompt, lest the privilege might not again be accorded us.

After hammocks had been given out, boats hoisted--all the work of the day finished, in fact--most of the men gathered aft to hear the band of the "Oregon" play. It was a volunteer band; that is, the musicians were enlisted men, not a.s.signed for the band. They played with vim and precision.

It was almost dark; only the s.h.i.+ps' outlines could be made out. The red and white signal lights twinkled at intervals at the mastheads of different vessels, while beams of light showed on the still, dark water from open ports. The whole fleet lay quiet while the men listened to the strains of music from the "Oregon." It was more like the rendezvous of a cruising yacht club than a fleet of wars.h.i.+ps gathered in the enemy's country.

The music from the battles.h.i.+p ceased, and for a moment all was still save for the lapping of the water against the s.h.i.+ps' sides and the splash of a fish as it leaped out of water.

Suddenly and together, a shrill piping on all the s.h.i.+ps broke the silence, followed by the hoa.r.s.e cry, "All the anchor watch to muster."

On all men-of-war at eight o'clock, the anchor watch is mustered. It consists of sixteen men--eight on duty from nine till one o'clock, the other eight from one till "all hands" at 5:30. The first part always calls its relief at one o'clock.

The mustering over, all flocked aft to hear the band again, but were disappointed, for the concert was over.

However, the men had come aft for music and music they must have in some shape.

So "Steve" the modest was dragged out, and after some persuasion sang the following to the tune of "Lou, Lou, How I Love Ma Lou." "Baron," the gunner's mate, accompanied him on the mandolin, and Eickmann, the marine corporal, helped out with his guitar.

"'Way down at the Brooklyn navy yard, Where s.h.i.+ps are rigged for sea, Three hundred little 'heroes'

Went aboard the old 'Yankee.'

Oh! we were young and foolish, We longed for Spanish gore, And so they set us working As we never worked before.

CHORUS: "Hard-tack and salt-horse every day, Work, slave, for mighty little pay; And just before we get to sleep We hear the bosun pipe like this (Whistle), 'Up all hammocks, all hands.'

"They turn us out each morning, To scrub our working clothes; To polish guns and bright work, To 'light' along the hose.

To wash down decks and ladders, To coil down miles of rope, To carry coal in baskets, To live on air and hope.

CHORUS: "Hard-tack and salt-horse every day, Work, slave, for mighty little pay; And when we think our work is done We hear the bosun pipe like this (Whistle), 'Turn to.'

"Way down at Santiago, We fit the forts one day.

The sh.e.l.ls were bursting o'er us, There was the deuce to pay.

We hid our inclination To run and hide below, Because we're little 'heroes,'

They've often told us so.

CHORUS:

"Hard-tack and salt-horse every day, Work, slave, for mighty little pay; And just as all the fight was over We heard the bosun pipe like this (Whistle), 'Gun-deck sweepers, clean sweep fore and aft.

Sweepers, clean your spit kits.'

"One Sat.u.r.day we anch.o.r.ed Just off the Isle of Pines, To load up with pineapples, And look for Spanish signs.

We called away the cutters, With seamen filled them up, And captured five small sailboats, Two Spaniards and a pup.

CHORUS:

"Hard-tack and salt-horse every day, Work, slave, for mighty little pay; And when we'd like to talk it over We heard the bosun pipe this (Whistle), 'Pipe down.'"

"That's great!" said one and all.

"There is just time for the 'Intermezzo' before tattoo, 'Baron,'" said "Pair o' Pants," the signal boy. "Give it to us, will you?"

"Baron" obligingly complied.

The boys lay around in comfortable, though ungraceful, att.i.tudes, a small but appreciative audience.

As the last high note died away the s.h.i.+p's bugler began that lovely call, "tattoo." We listened in silence, for though we had heard it many times, it was always a delight to us. Then, too, it meant rest (not a drug in the market by any means). Every s.h.i.+p's crew in the harbor, at the same moment was listening to the call blown by their own bugler.

The men tumbled below and began to prepare for the voyage to dreamland.

Five minutes later, when the sleepy "taps" sounded, the decks were almost deserted save for the hammocks, which looked like huge coc.o.o.ns swung horizontally.

The following days till Sunday were spent in unloading powder and sh.e.l.l.

The six and eight-inch charges of powder and the sh.e.l.l were lifted by hand and slid down chutes to the barges alongside. To handle the powder and sh.e.l.l for the thirteen-inch guns, steam was called into service; the thirteen-inch charges being lowered into the waiting boat, by the aid of the cargo boom and steam winch.

This work was hard and the heat trying, but it was accomplished with good grace, for we were glad to get rid of the dangerous stuff.