The Bismarck Tribune Newspaper, August 14, 1918, Page 8

’ Boysof Mosquito Fleet, Who Find French Ports Dreary and Full of ‘“‘Homesickness Germs,” Go| Back to Their Ships Cheerful] and Ready for Anything after Meeting the Women Workers Who have Gone “Over There”’ to Make France Look as Much Like Home as Possible. BY REGINALD WRIGHT KAUFFMAN LTHOUGH he was a mere|goodbse and cried a little and told AMERICAN GIRL’S SI U-BOAT’S WORST ENEM A lad—he didn't look a day over seventeen—he wore the uniform of a sailor in the United States Navy. He had come into this little room, opening off the main street of the dreary French port, with just a bit of a swagger. “Des cigarettes,” he said, and flung counter a fifty-franc Dill. brand do you prefer?” asked behind-the-counter, Instantly, that faint hint of bra- vado passed from) the boyish face, leaving it clean and manly—glad, too, and yet wistful. “Gee!” he cried. © “You're an American, aren't you? Great guns, but it’s good to hear American talked in this town,” He drew out. as long as he dared, the details of his purchase. He went away slowly, and presently returned and bought some more cigarettes. He hung ut the room, and then bought §till more. He. ostentatiously pulled out a shining cigarette case from a pocket, and filled it. The clerk couldn’t help a smile. tou must smoke a great deal,” she anit. Tae sailor blushed. “It's not that,” he confessed, “but——well, just to hear you talk is like home!” He fumbled with the cigarette case. “See that?” he said. “I got it to- day.from my folks in Bostov. ‘That moffogram—they?re my initials. 1 guessed maybe they’d send me ciga- rettes, but I didn’t expect the case. As it was, the ~ase came alone.” “It's 'very pretty,” said the clerk. “It's the first word I've had fron: home for three months,” said the boy. ‘ “They don’t’ write - “He turned away. aoaiis are all balled-up.” “Still, you did get the case.” »'¢ LETTERS, THE DEMAND “Sure; but I'd rather had a letter than a hundred cigarette cases. Of course I’m glad I enlisted; but, gee, if the people at home knew how bad ws fellows wanted letters, | they'd write every day, even if they didn’t have nothin’ to say except ‘Yours If they only knew!” That sailor was a fair example of our young seamen in France: unfal- tering in his determination to do his duty, but ynremittingly homesick. The room in which he revealed his ‘beart was one of many such rooms where, daily, many, of our enlisted men ere moved to similar confessions: their one healthy substitute for home, the Y. M. ©. A. headquarters at a French port. These boys are the keepers-up of commerce, the food-b¥ingers, the sleepless guides and guardians of our troops that cross the sea. ‘ “The work of the Mosquito Fleet is nothing short of wonderful.” a mnch admiral recently declared. “In the last report of two hundred and fifty ships convoyed, only three losses were reported; since the Mos- quito Fleet came here, the S. 0. S. calls due to mines and submarine at- have decreased fifty per cent.” “These results are achieved only by labor that is hard, dangerous, and without recorded praise. There are deys when men have to stand on watch for fourteen hours without re- Nef; whole voyages when the gun- crews have never moved more than five’ feet from their guns, snatching eleep \on the rain-washed decks; cruises when the men in the fire room and before the engines have never ouce been able to come up for a breath of fresh air. WITHOUT A WHIMPER, . Yet all that is borne without a whimper. The sailors read, now and then, @. stray home paper and ,see the accgunts of cheering crowds bid- ding Godspeed to this or that depart- ing regiment; they feel that all the public’s heart is going out to the army. They don’t at all realize their own devotion, and their attitude is almost that of’ apology for not more epectacularly serving their country. They will tell you that they are glad they “jumped to the guns,” but every mail brings news of friends that stayed behind and have won ‘commis- eions at the Reserve Officers’ Train- ing Camps. ) And then the|ship comes back to port, and there are liberty parties going ashore. The. British sailor is given drink ration; the British Y. M. C._ eserves light beer. It isn't thus with our men. At sea there obtains only the taut rule of fiat virtue, and the mi that goes. ashore is his own master. Do you begin to see now the prob- lem that our Y. M. C. A. has to face? Any American sailor man will get homesick after a week here. and it's just homesickness that’s the matter with most. of these kids: if they can't be cured of it, they'll DO some- thing to forget it.” To be homesick—and. if you re- member your first boarding school day, after your mother'’d kissed you fT ogu.3 the you to send home all your socks for mending, and your father'd shaxer jhands with you and cleared his throat and said you'd be coming back to put him out of business, nd you'd you remember that, you will agre with me that to be homesick is t be as miserable as it is possible for the human being to become. But t be homesick and yet to give a home to the homeless is to be something very nearly heroic. Of that I) saw, in this port, a recent instance: I came across three little children |—boys—standing in a doorway on a quiet street, the eldest perhaps | twelve years old, the youngest not: a day over five. They would have been remarkable among the other children of this somewhat rowdy port if ouly for their cleanliness and for the cleanliness of the elderly woman that was manifestly caring for them. ‘They were the more remarkable be- cause each wore a sailor's cap, on. the band of, which was inscribed the name of a certain boat in the Mos- quito Fleet, and because they were all dressed in an infantile replica of the uniform of able seamen jin, the | United States Navy. They were shy. little boys, ‘but the woman in charge of them explained their. habiliments: : WHY SAILORS ARE WORTHY., “But, yes, monsieur. ‘They were all that was left of a family. The father was killed at Verdun, the mother died in an accident at a fac: fory of munitions; so that good sa’ ors upon one of your country’s litt! ships have adopted them, and are keeping them, and will educate them. They have rented for them rooms jn this house, and they have employed me to keep them, and, whenever their ship is in port, these sailors, they fail not to come kere and receive word of their wards” and they give them chocolates till the litle ones are ill.” What do the ichocolates mattei! There is something worth, doing for men who will take upon themselves such obligations as this. Something worth Woing—and_ the Y. M.C. A. is trying to do it. There are a headquarters and other build- ings in every French port that. is used by our navy—fifty buildings in all—-conducted by workers whose pay does not quite meet their expenacs and whose tasks continue from sun to sun. MANY DIFFICULTIES, At no one place are there often more than three hundred men ashore at a time, and so it is easier to establish the personal relationship between the association worker and the sailor than between worker and soldier in the soldier huts at the American camp. But the ports are cities, whereas the camp stretches among mere villages, so that the forces’ against which the branch of the Y. M. C. A. has to contend are the stronger. I went) to an evening entertain- ment given by the British Y. M.C. A. for the American Y. M. C. Als patrons in the rooms of the French held your head high’ and joked—if naval |. chaperonage, to meet sailors of their owh sort that have some knowledze of the French language. . It is at these gatherings that the suilor talky most freely, and most lightly, of his work. 9) “Looking for subs?” I heard: one say to his newly met companion, “I am going blind doing it! There is (>> sub that rigs up to look like a sail- ing vessel, and one that hides its spouts water like a poises drive us :. something 2 t the other like a tor+ t. Ie pedo's. pointed it out to me, ‘We're gone this time!’ he yelled. Then it jumped, and we saw it was a porpoise, We call porpoises ‘Humphrey tcrpedoes’ now.” r The French girl wanted to know about rezcues at sca. PICK UP SURVIVORS “Last trip,” she was informed, “we picked up three small boats with fifty-nine men in them. of those men were from a hip that had been torpedoed the day» before. They got away and were taken on a passing \stedmer, and they hadn’t been aboard her. for twelve hours. be- fore’she was torpedoed, too. We,got, those fellows into the drum-room and laid them over the boilers, When- ever we sight a life boat the ¢om- missary steward starts supplies of soup-and coffee, so we had plenty of the warm stuff ready for them, and we lent them our clothes while their own were drying.” ; His Sompanion laughed. “Why don’t you tell therest asked. “Oh, what's the juse!” grumbled the first sailor: > “Then I'll tell it,” persisted the second. “Our crew’s clothes were so mitch better than’ the slops. the rescued men had come aboard in that some of the rescued forgot to change back ‘to their own duds before thev ” he equivalent of the association. There garines \ growing library, free writing materials, a piano around which was grouped a day-long chorus of sailor: men, moving picture shows, a hall for basket ball, a baseball grounds, fifty clean beds at a frane apiece a night—and a clean bed is a luxury, as well as a moral force—an apart- ment house for seventeen petty- officers permanently employed ‘ashore. a phonograph over which I’ve seen a lonely lad sit all afternoon running off 'songs reminiscent of his child- hood, a canteen that sold. chewing- gum, and candy. These may sound like trifles to Americans at home, but to the American sailor abroad. to whom only: the Y. M. C. A. provides hem, they become something largo and vital.” They become America. “There's good grub dn our tub, but not enough that’s ‘sweet. Gimme some more of those gum-drons.” “What's this? Lemonade? Yes. but what's it) made of? Citron syrup and seltzer! -And you call that Temonade? Oh, well. give. us another glass of it: it’s as close as a fellow can come to it over here. When are you goin’ to be able to afford a soda-fountain?” MEETING FRENCH GIRLS. Tf I heard those comments once during an afternoon that,T passed in a naval Y. M.C. A., T heard them a dozen times. Unbelievable quantities of chocolate are sold in a form that may be easily heated and drenk during night-watches at sea. and the millionaire that wants to do effective work against alcoholism could do none more effective than to donate soda fountains and hot chocolate ma- chines to the association in these ports. One innovation introduced recently is thus far working well: parties of went ashore. If you see any stray uniforms walking around this town, they’re ours.” 1 However, if good company is a moral force not to be neglected. so is good food, and in that particular the ¥. M.C. A. has thus far been fortunate. There is a story told in one port, where Vincent Astor has been staying when onshore leave, to the effect that he was complaining of bringing are formed, under maternal |! wire in Unele $: About half, the restaurant in his hotel. “You can’t get a really good meal there,” said Astor. WHERE TO GET GOOD MEAL Wis auditor happened to be satia- factorily ‘fresh from another sort of restaurant. “I just now had a good \|dinner at the Y. M. C. A.,” he ven- tured, < “Oh, there!” said Astor. “Of course You did. ‘The Y, M. C. A’s the best, eating place in town.” Mr, Astor onght to know, because that eating place is of his wife’s making. She bonght and turned over ito the association the one really good restaurant that could be found, and she has ever since been ‘personally active in its arrangements. “You get real food there.?- a*sailér recently told me. “Real food. You know what T mean—ham-an’-eggs an’ steak-an’-fried-onions.” Tt aid that Mrs. Astor used to help wait. on table when the service wag shorthanded, and that one of the first persons upon whom she waited was-a newly enlisted man in the United States Navy who, until a month previous, had, heen the dining room steward on Mrs. Astér’s own yacht. ean * “Cee,” the steward is reported to have. commented, “when T used “6 wait on her, T had to wear evening clothes.” young French women of the best -up- ‘The sort of men, ihon, with which, aut BISMARCK DAILY TRIBUNE at. our _navy's ports’ in France, .tho Y. MOC. A. has to deal, is-all sorts. They are cf the two extremes. and every -grade between, but once they Sain’s navy there is no tinction. Each man is offering all he has: to his country; that makes them-kin. Let me exemplify: I was just coming in from my first cruise with the s.arboard rail, to a blacke: from a hati way, man?” I wondered. "Gee It's Great To Iiear ‘American’ Talked in France!” quartermaster “leaned against the “That boy,” he said, as he nodded d, barefoot lad emerging French at Harvard last spring.” “And he’s here a3 a common sea- “As a coal heaver,”' the quarter: Mosquito Fleet. The} master corrected me! “We've got a SMILE _ LL er” aA i Vy LP ORE Vt ie — Mit Wi La ie His; f gi , ith OG ii CFE i ~~ i] Mil lot of college men eboard. They're volunteers. - Of ‘course, they've all had* yachting experience, but the bred-to-the-service fellows laughed: at them till a certain litle thing’ hap- pened on the voyage over. “A fire, started in our port ‘coal- bunkers when: we were three days out of the port we were bound fo: A hatch 'd beer left open and there 'd ‘got honors. in FIN Up at the front with the American army are two jobs.;so closely related @hey are one—the artillery- man’s and the obseryer’s. The first delivers the goods, the. second tells him what doorstep to leave it on, and corrects any misapprehensions he may have as to where he is’ leaving it. A ” During the nighf there had been a tremendous bar- rage. Hundreds of.'guns of all sizes and voices had made it exceedingly Uncomfortable for Fritzie, who fs perched on a famous mountain which seems only a stone’s throw away. The guns had: fired for two hours gnd our fellows had gone over the top and ¢éme back with prisdners’ and captured machine guns. In the morning I went back to the nearest bat- tery’ to ask how they went about it. The battery consisted of French nineties and seventy-fives. They:.were hidden away, in bomb proof emplacements of interesting construction.. The construction had to be interesting lecause Fritz knew the battétyWas there, and” pafd’ it consider- able attention. Eyéry. once in a while he would drop a shell’ near*ty. al 4 aaa A general showed us his wall map of the vicinity on‘which was marked:every German trench and post, every stone and blade of grass, it seemed, and then explained the-barrage. , PURPOSES OF BARRAGE “The theory was) 'to wall in’ that section of trenches,” he said. “Part of the guns enclosed the locality in a barrage while others:of/us«played on the communicating trenches to xeep reinforcements from coming up. The idea is to keep’ itr'the afea/all ithe men who are there and to let nobody come in to help them.” ‘ be “But, you can't see those, trenches. know you are hitting them?” , “Observers,” was the curt answer. ‘We know the location of the trench and then register upon it. The observers correct our fire until we have. the range exactly, and then we wait for the time. Orders come thatithere will be such ana such a barrage. on)‘J” day and zero hour.’ And we are ready.” ‘ The thing that tapped one on the shoulder about these boys was their attitude toward the guns. They seemed to feeltowar | them as .a person might feel toward a splendid fighting bull dog. . The seventy*fives ‘called out the highest esteem. The nineties were good; they did the business, but the seventy-fives! Now there were guns. “They won't let us fire but six times a minute.”; a-sergeant said with the air of a man who had been personally offended. i TORN BY:HUN SHELLS All around the emplacements the ground was'torn and, upheaved by Hun shells)which had: been sent over as a compliment to this battery. Out in tne field were two great craters sharply visible over’ the rest. “Hey,” called a man -from the other end of the line -of bomb proofs, “here. comes a Y,. M. C. A. man with eats.” Boys’ oozed out of caves ‘and bomb proofs with their tongues fairly hanging out,’ Their station is with their guns, and, theirmess is on the*spot™so they have little chance to get over to the canteen. The “y”" man. being.competent to, fill his job, knew this, How do you sd cade frequent trips over with a pack of his 7 DING FRITZ OBSERVER’S JOB BY CLARENCE BUDINGTON KELLAND wares on his pack—cakes, cookies, canned stuff, cigarettes, ‘ “Much obliged for running over,” said the lieuten- ant. “We sure appreciate it.” That seems to be the ‘attitude of the officers'and men at the front towards the Red Triangle. ‘Much obliged and we appreciate it—Say, if it wasn’t for the “Y” we sure would be up against it.” “I'm going ahead to, some of the observation posts,” the “Y” man told me. “Want to take a chance?” We arrived at a town and found a Neutenant sit- ting down in a trench. Before him a narrow slit opened into a pile—and into utter blackness. \ HOW QBSERVER WORKS “Observation post,” said my conductor. The lieutenant was glad to see us, especially when I told him I was so recently from home, and took us within.~ There, in a little room in which one could barely stand.upright, was the paraphernalia by which the Hun is supervised in bis goings and comings, and by which our artillery is informed if it 1s hitting the mark. . Facing the Hun was a narrow horizontal slit across the wall. Over this hung a curtain, because Fritz in his observation posts across No Man's Land might see that slit through his glasses if light were allowed, to pass through it and then. very shortly there would be no observation post. Provided it suited Fritz’s humor to abolish it. We looked through the glasses at the beautiful mountain slope: opposite, famous in the history of the war, and which now is the most formidable bar in the way of our troops if they set_out to take back fron Germany a cicy which Francé claims for her own. With the naked eye this mountain slope seems quiet and peaceful. There is ro sign of life, not even of smoke from a mess fire. Through the glasses, as they are directed by the leutenant, barbed wire entanglements, lines: of trenches, concrete gun em- placements and what not can be sharply distin. guished. WHAT FRITZ IS COING “Look along the top of that ridge. What do you make out?” “Nothing.” “Right under) the heir: in the glass now. The hair is touching the top of-it.” ~, Still I made out nothing. “Camouflage.” Just then a shell came over and burst on top of a stone wall. behind us. Maybe it was intended for us, and maybe it was just a warning for us to be- have’ ourselves.. Anyhow I was impressed. _ “See,” sqid the lieutenant, “They could get us if they wanted to. Say, Wharton,” Wharton was the “Y” secretary, “Give me a.can of peaches on the strength of that.” High in the air over our heads we could hear the planing-mill hum of a couple of American aeroplanes taking a look-see. They were not fighting planes, but observation planes. Their duty was to get more direct and accurate information than could be had from any listening post. “This morning the Boche got one out there,” said the Neutenant. “They were after him with machine guns, I saw he was in trouble and saw him coming down. His machine was on fire and he jumped out with his hands up. He hadn't a chance. And they came out and got him.” i Sharp. ‘| He ktiocked“down two of ‘hie protest: been a shower—water causes suet fires, you know—and now, away at the bottom of the pile, that coal was white hot. All we could-do at firet ;was to play the steam-hose on it and hold it from gaining for twenty-four ‘ hours. “I was on the bridge at 2:30 next morning—had the midnight to 4 A. M. -watch—when ‘the. starboard bunker blew ' out, The fire had crossed the ship. We-did our best, but before 4 o'clock there were three explosions on the port side, and then we knew that it was time for.des- perate measures. _ “The captain called for volunteers. He said he wanted, men ‘that would go down into that furnace” bulg'nj with fatal gas—tfellows that woul walk straight into ‘those lungs of death and shovel away the top coal so as to uncover the burning ‘core. aaa was the only way to save the ship. ) : COLLEGE Boys FiRsT. “Well, sir, the first to vol were the college kid nd eae Stripes gave them the job. “By squads of four, with « officer ts. cach, they jumped intone hell. Shevel? You ought to have seen them! Three minutes a shift, they were to work, but they were | gased so quickly that eleven bide Were carried out, one right after the other, on the backs of their ship- Sawbones stood on deck with thé pulmotor and pumped them through, but a were caught sneaking out of their bunks to ; back and fight the Bai ii as tough a job as but those boys did i y red the fire and saved the abip. Ss ce. then, you don't hear much laughing at the College Kids.” Somehow that quartermaster bad 3 , given me a hint about himeelf. Ww hat’s your college?” 1 asked. “Yale. 'ninety-four.” he asid. “But I'm an‘old hand. Tt was, these kids I was talking about. Don’t: mention my being a college man to anybody aboard. T don't wait to: sedmd’td/'be putting on side.” eae * at is one example. Hero's other:. . pais nial ; ., 10 an orderly entertainment ai pele Y.M: C. Av building came-one nf ine ; ® brilliantly. illuminated. boatewainits bite Hevesi splendid apeécitnen 9 sical manhood, six’ feet- inches..and as hard nike was'intent on. “et He stopped, with. one. command, the singer on th - tage ing friends, spilled a: crowded: banch q and awaggered un to the Leet charge with the majesty of a breaker ' sweeping toward the beach. : {I’m going to: break ‘show: 0 anid” . a ne Rai Bem “It looked very much as if: ne would, too. ° aioe “ Now, the secretary: in charge: was.a quiet and’ unassuming man. ’He had done wonders ‘in his work ané.g our, fleet in.:French waters, but he spoke: ina small voice and moved: gently. “If T were you.” said the. secre- tary. “I woultin’t interfere.” °° “The hell, you wouldn’t!” anid. @ hoatswain’s mate’ and shook. mighty fist. , A MI8S AND A HIT, “Please don't,” said the secretary. The big-fist shot’ forward—— ws It didn’t hit anything. “It ‘was shunted aside as a little twist of th slim switch shunts a train of ‘ed cars. It dragged the boatgwnin’s mate after it into vacant space—and, as the boatsmain’s. mate went by, something caught him—something uncommonly like an express engine— on the point of the jaw, and sent:him smashing to the ftoor. ‘ Then the quiet secretary picked-the { giant’ up in his arms ard carried him { to a back room. of which the two j were the only ‘4 { id the secretarr, The ‘secretary was a Presbyteriat t minister. He was also. a Colorady rancher. And aleo ho had been the hest boxer in Princeton duting hi day there: his name is O. F. Gardiner He nursed that hoatewain's mate > hack to sobriety ard got him. on-his ship. in, time ta ra-ano reprimand. The next. nicht the cajlor trmed up again at the YMC, A. holding, T’ve’ come here to apologize.” he 1 : t’s all right,” said the -secre- “No. it ain't.” the sailor persisted. “T wade a nuisance-of mycelf hefo.a. all this crowd. and it’s before the whole crowd that T’ve got to. gize. Here, you swipes!” he lowed. + ey BOATSWAIN’S APOLOGY, Every man in the room fell: silent. ~ ‘The, boatswain’s mate addressed them: ‘ “L want to tell you fellows,” he said, “that I was a fool last ni ht, and got what was comin’ to me; ‘bit I'm not auch a fool but what Tean learn a lesson. I’m cuttin’ out the booze.” That man there treated.me square, and saved me from ‘trouble aboard ship, and after tonight if any slob, tries to get fresh around this place, why any such guy’s got to tackle the two of us.” t Some ‘college men and some men that have hardly heen to schooliat all, a group of millionaires and’a scattering of rough-necks, ‘but ‘every. one sound at heart brave‘ in action—these make up the Mosquito Fleet. The worst.aren’t bad, they ara only tonely. The ‘best enduring n dangerous and, wi more, & hideously monotonous, life afloat and one beset with the temptatter of emotional reaction ashore. For beth sorts the choice lies solely hetween the sordidness of a foreign port and the Y. M.C. A. Which are you for—the Y.M. C. A, \ or the port? |