The Yankee Mining Squadron or Laying the North Sea Mine Barrage (Continued)

CHAPTER NINE

ATHLETICS

A shortage of some mine parts that had encountered difficulty in manufacture now delayed the preparation for a second excur­sion, and the respite came opportunely, for we had been driving hard for some time.

Though the minelayers were comfortable enough to live in when empty, it was quite different with mines on board. Then only a few of the men could swing their hammocks, the others having to lie on the decks. Crowding the mess tables together, horns and sharp corners ever ready to tear the clothes, mines were constantly at one’s elbow, and everywhere were mine tracks, half-knee high, or turntables, to trip the unwary or bark his shin. No smoking was allowed below decks, and the space above decks was very limited for crews so numerous. The men made no complaint—such men will not complain of discomfort which seems temporary and unavoidable, when incident to an under­taking that interests them—but since the discomfort could not be alleviated but, on the contrary, would increase with the fre­quency of excursions and with inclement weather, sufficient diver­sion was imperative to maintain the fine, cheerful spirit which had characterized the work so far.

Let the report on squadron athletics, written at the end of Sep­tember by Ensign Walter P. Hanson, U. S. N. R. F., editor of our Athletic Bulletin, tell what was done, in true sporting page style:

The situation was new, practically unparallelled, and called for immediate action. With the exception of the San Francisco and Baltimore, none of the ships had the traditional atmosphere of a man-of-war, so essential to the building up of esprit de corps. It was a new squadron, manned largely by new men, performing a new operation in strange waters. Something was needed to weld this war-sprouted organization into a solid, indissoluble unit, to build up ship spirit and a high squadron spirit, recalling old tradi­tions and laying the foundation for new ones, to fire the men’s enthusiasm to a pitch that would insure the success of the gigantic operation in hand and spell defeat for the German submarine forces.

There were other just as important reasons why an athletic organization was necessary. Minelaying in contested waters is not the easiest nor the least dangerous of duties. To eat, sleep and work in close proximity to tons of the deadliest explosive known, and then to cruise day and night in submarine infested waters with this same explosive for cargo—knowing that one well-aimed torpedo, a well-placed mine, or a few enemy shells, would wipe out an entire ship’s company, and possibly the whole squadron— is not exactly the sort of recreation a worn-out business man would seek as a cure for “ nerves.” And blue-jackets, despite a common fallacy in Amer­ica, are no more than human. Numerous mining excursions, with no inter­vening periods of recreation, were bound to tell on the men.

Relaxation and amusement they would get in one form or another. Where were they to turn for it? To the theaters and amusement centers of two Scotch, war-stricken villages? They were almost a myth and couldn’t hold a man-sized blue-jacket’s attention for half an hour a week. What then the Y. M. C. A.? Yes, to some extent, but even those faithful workers couldn’t solve the problem. Active amusement the men wanted, excitement, thrills, anything to take their minds off their work for a few hours several times a week when they went ashore.

Obviously there was but one answer to the question and that was the healthful recreation of organized, competitive athletics. Athletics of all sorts and forms, teams organized on each ship, and an officially recognized and governed organization to direct the activities of the entire squadron. Spirited competition and clean sportsmanship was to be the keynote of the movement, with one directing head, under the supervision of the Squadron Commander.

The official “ season ” was formally opened on July 4, at both bases, with eight teams competing. The initial success was most gratifying. The spirit shown by the townspeople gave the day all the ear-marks of a regular league opening in the states. The games were closely contested and the players, cheered on by the rooting of hundreds of loyal “ fans,” displayed an excellent brand of ball. Business houses had declared a holiday in honor of our Independence Day and apparently the natives decided to attend the festivities in a body, for at Inverness more than three thousand of them were present, eagerly attempting to learn the intricacies of the game.

From then on, the success of athletics in the squadron was assured. When the ships were in port and the weather permitted, not a day passed without one or more games played. Each team was loyally supported by its own ship’s company, even the officers forgetting their dignity long enough to root long and loudly. In these demonstrations the men were moderate, considerate of the neighbors, realizing that local custom did not favor such noise, though indulged now with perfect good humor, since we appeared to need it.

Athletic activities were not confined to baseball. Boat-racing, track, tug-of-war teams, boxing and wrestling, were all taken up and encouraged. On July 4, the entire morning was given over to boat racing. Excellent time was made over the mile course and good seamanlike qualities were displayed. The afternoon track events developed into a spirited contest, in which the marks made would have done justice to any first-class Ameri­can university. Again on Labor Day a similar athletic meet was arranged and once more the same measure of success was attained, thousands of townspeople in attendance.

Boxing and wrestling were taken up by the individual ships and, gener­ally speaking, one evening each week was given over to “ happy hours,” for bouts in the ring and on the mat. Ambitious youngsters would send forth bristling challenges, which were immediately snapped up by rivals in other ships and the resulting encounter was the equivalent—seldom bloodless—of a naval engagement in building up esprit de corps.

Excellent golf courses and tennis courts lay convenient to both bases, and many a day the Squadron Commander returned from the Nigg links with 18 officers crowding the barge. The squadron surgeon, Dr. Rhoades, secured many recruits for the ancient and honorable game, with the result that upward of 50 officers out of 200 entered the tournament played in September.

From the start the good effect on the men was noticeable. A consistently winning baseball team made that ship’s company the envy of all others, and fostered a spirit that could not confine itself to athletics alone but was injected into drills, mining excursions and all forms of ship’s work. In­deed, it would not be overshooting the mark to state that the success of the operation as a whole was due in large part to the spirit of enthusiasm aroused among the men by organized competitive athletics.

The men and officers were benefited from a mental and moral, as well as physical, standpoint. They had something really interesting to go to see on shore and to talk about on returning aboard. Their minds were taken absolutely away from war while the games were in progress, their nerves relaxed and the tension removed. Their activities were directed into healthful channels, whereas, thrown upon their own resources, they might have sought amusement in some harmful form.

Not only did athletics benefit the men, it also played its part from an international aspect, especially baseball. Essentially an American sport, it typifies everything American—rapid thinking, quickness of action, and purely American individualism, coupled with the keenest alertness in team­work. These traits the British admire in the “ Yanks.” At any of our baseball games, hundreds of British soldiers and sailors could always be seen, wearing broad grins of appreciation and admiration of the cleverness of their comrades in arms. So much were they taken up with the sport that on some British ships they began to organize baseball teams, with the hope in the near future to compete with their American cousins. And the small boys in the towns were quick to take up playing ball with a stick and an old string ball. All this helped in creating a spirit of cooperation and good feeling between the British and the Americans, so important to both present and future common aims.

CHAPTER TEN

The Squadron Complete

After a conference with the commanding officers with the various incidents of the first excursion fresh in mind, revised instructions applying equally to every 'excursion were drawn up, to be supplemented by the particulars for each successive occasion issued at the appropriate time. The term excursion met with ready adoption, for its cheerful suggestion of a return—weary no doubt, but content.

A navigation memorandum of the intended courses, speeds, and principal incidents, for the information of the escort leader and each ship, accompanied the excursion order. An excellent understanding, as well as good feeling, grew up between the squadron and its escort. The escort commander would often dine on board the San Francisco and discuss the coming excursion and the two bodies soon came to move as one, changing course, night or day, or changing formation, frequently with only a whistle blast—a whole excursion sometimes without any tactical signal at all between the two bodies, except for some unforeseen change of course or speed.

Preparations had begun at once for the second excursion to continue the first minefield, but change had become necessary, and a line across Area C was ordered—not, however, until Roanoke had been loaded with 830 mines of an adjustment not suited to the changed plan, and these remained on board 33 days, the crew living around, but keeping up cleanliness and order the same as usual. So long a period fully loaded had not been contemplated, but it showed one more thing these vessels could do when, well manned and commanded.

As before, assembly was at night 30 June, and Udsire the point of final departure. The supporting force was the 6th Battle Squadron of five American battleships under Rear Admiral Hugh Rodman, U. S. N. Needless to say, everyone came on deck to see our handsome battle squadron, as it filed out past Pentland Skerries and formed line, disappearing to the south­eastward. Twice during the afternoon submarine periscopes were seen by the battleships and their destroyer screen, which opened fire and dropped depth bombs, but without known effect.

Considerable current was found near the Norwegian coast, but visibility was good until we passed to the northward of Udsire; then it became increasingly hazy. The run of the flagship, guid­ing, was accurately determined notwithstanding, by other marks to the northward before they too became indistinct. At 4.26 a. m., minelaying began—great care taken not to lay any mines inside Norwegian waters, yet to begin just outside them. Despite the unexpected strong current at the critical moment, the first mines were dropped within 250 yards of the intended spot, just outside the three-mile limit.

Overcast sky prevented obtaining good observations to check the run during the minelaying, and as there was no check on latitude and the current was variable, the course was changed slightly for the last third of the run, to be sure of clearing our first field, towards which we were heading. This accounts for the bend in that line, on the chart. We were crossing the 150-fathom deep water which skirts the Norway coast, three large ships, Canonicus, Canandaigua, and Housatonic, led by San Francisco, laying 2200 mines in two rows on a line 46 miles long. In spite of repeated breaking of the distance-measuring taut wire, the speed over ground was estimated closely enough to end the line within one-half mile of the point intended, which was correct within 1 per cent.

There were again no casualties and all the mines were planted. Two ships planted 710 each in continuous strings, fully establish­ing the success of the mining installations. There was no longer any doubt of the ability of one of these ships to plant her entire load of 860 mines without break. All vessels returned to base ready for further duty.

The explosions of defective mines on this excursion amounted to between 4 and 5 per cent, and reports received from British trawlers watching the first minefield indicated that enough more had gone off in that field since the first day, to bring the total there up to between 5 and 6 per cent. Despite all remedy, these explosions increased in number up to the 5th excursion. Then the cause was found to be due not to unskilful, negligent, or other­wise faulty procedure in either the ships or the bases, but to lie partly in supersensitiveness in the mines’ adjustment, partly in imperfection in manufacture—inevitable in such large numbers made under prevailing industrial conditions, especially of a new design.

On June 29, just before departure on the second excursion, the minelayers Shaumut, Captain W. T. Cluverius, Aroostook, Com­mander J. H. Tomb, and Saranac, Commander Sinclair Gannon, and the repair ship Black Hawk, Captain R. C. Bulmer, had arrived from the United States. Uncompleted work had not delayed them like the others, but the trial runs of the Shawmut and Aroostook showed their fuel consumption to be much larger than had been estimated—no data having been available when their conversion was planned—making their fuel capacity insufficient for the passage over. Indefinite delay, until a tanker could accompany them, was averted by the captains hunting up enough oil hose to fuel the ships at sea. Their departure on June 16 took place during the German submarines’ activity on the New England coast—not a favorable condition for ships just out of a navy yard. Twice during the crossing, the Black Hawk took the Shawmut and Aroostook in tow, to give them fuel oil. Though a new operation to all hands—likewise new ships, new crews, half a gale of wind, and oil hose twice as heavy as proper—it was done well, without mishap, and all four arrived at our bases ready for service.

The third excursion could therefore be made by the full squad­ron of ten. It was to continue the first minefield, and as some of our mark buoys were known to have broken adrift—we had passed two on the second excursion—the flagship’s navigator, Lieut. Commander Cunningham, was sent out in the squadron tugs Patuxent and Patapsco, to verify what might remain of the buoy- field. Finding half the buoys in place, he planted two new ones as a precaution. Then he passed along both our minefields, listening for further explosions, but heard none. The necessary improve­ment in the buoy moorings was now made, so effectively that they could be counted on thereafter. Each ship carried four buoys on her quarters, ready to drop on the instant. One stroke of an axe, or pull on a slip would release a buoy and its 1000-lb. sinker together, the mooring wire cable being so looped up around the buoy as to pay out clear. Thus the ship had no need to reduce speed nor any fear of getting her screw foul of the buoy. Embarking mines for the third excursion had already begun when a message came that no mines were to be placed west of zero longitude for the present, a restriction that shortened the intended line by 30 miles, quite upsetting the embarking arrange­ments then in progress.

Meantime, the original plan had, in London, undergone con­siderable modification as to the constitution of the barrage. Origi­nally of three systems, each comprising three lines of mines— upper, middle,-and lower levels—the necessity which had developed for wider spacing between mines, to avoid structural damage to neighboring mines when one was detonated—300 feet instead of 150, as originally planned—made it seem desirable to increase the number of lines of mines, so as to maintain the same density of the mine barrage as a whole. The revision aimed to increase the risk to surface passage considerably. No effective patrol being maintained along the barrage, submarines would naturally prefer the surface. The revised plan, in brief, made 10 upper level rows instead of 3, and 4 middle and 4 lower level, instead of 3 each, or a total of 18 rows instead of 9.

Rather than shorten our line and again employ only part of the squadron, the Commander of the Mine Force took up the revised scheme at once, ordering 5400 mines prepared, for a field of 5 parallel lines 54 miles long. All 10 ships were loaded nearly to full capacity, Housatonic taking 840 mines. Departure was taken at 2 p. m., Sunday 14 July, hauling down, as we got under­way, the dress bunting which had been hoisted in honor of the French Bastille Day.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tactics

Ten ships laden with high explosive, navigating in mine-swept channels, in submarine thoroughfares, and near minefields beyond sight of fixed marks—compactness of the minefield demanding that the layers steam as near together as safe—necessity for keep­ing together in fog, darkness, or submarine attack—these were the conditions governing our tactics.

Thus, the mining excursions were not merely arduous in prepa­ration and execution. Precision and quickness of action while at sea were imperative, from start to finish. To foster these, a steady tension was kept up throughout the squadron, a tension which likewise helped the individual ships to maintain a careful habit among the men, without making them jumpy or fearful. To sustain attention and prevent over-confidence growing with famil­iarity, unremitting pains were exercised to note and correct any irregularity or apparent slackness—not to find fault but to keep things taut everywhere. Only in this way could compliance with all details be insured—so very important in our work.

From assembly at the buoy until the return to it after the excursion, the San Francisco, leading the squadron, would main­tain a steady pace, sometimes increasing to make up for adverse current, but rarely slackening speed for anything. The squadron’s position was frequently compared with the time schedule, and no effort was spared to carry through the excursion with preci­sion. There was time enough, we had speed enough, but none too much of either, and the whole body felt a constant urge towards a direct and clean-cut movement out to the field, over it, and back to the base.

Stretched in two mile-long columns while in mine-searched waters, which were comparatively narrow, the formation would widen and shorten upon reaching the 50-fathom line, so as to diminish the depth of the target offered to a submarine. Ap­proaching the mine start point, the vessels would take the relative positions which they would occupy when the mining was begun— not too soon, because such a formation was unwieldy, and if maneuvering into position involved much turning, the formation would become disordered. The 10 vessels were of 5 different types, with different handling qualities and having very small speed reserve with which to regain lost position. On the other hand, the change had to be made early enough for all vessels to get settled in station, at standard speed, before the minelaying began.

As the planting progressed, we had to make use of large, lighted, navigation buoys, planted in the open sea, obviously for our use. The British had warned us, from their own experience, of the enemy’s habit of moving all such buoys whenever seen, or plant­ing mines near them—sometimes doing both. Working far away from the nearest landmark, we would pass close to these buoys in order to determine the position of the mine start point accu­rately. Against enemy mines which might be around the buoys, our paravanes were counted upon for protection, but here came in a complication. While paravanes would protect against ordi­nary mines, they actually increased the risk from any of our own mines which they might touch. To keep the paravanes out until after clearing the buoy, then take them in before approaching one of our fields, would have been simple enough, but for the neces­sity of maintaining steady speed and course from the buoy to the mining start point, which precluded slowing down to take the paravanes in. Since the risk could be measured from our own mines but not from the enemy’s, the paravanes were always kept in use.

Pressure of time and division of the ships between two bases while in port limited the tactical training of the squadron to what could be done while crossing the Atlantic and while going to and from the minefields. The special equipment to facilitate accurate station keeping which is usually found in men-of-war was lacking in these ex-merchant vessels. They had comparatively small rudders, and the nice regulation of steam to the engines, necessary for steady steaming in company, was very difficult with their deficient means for that purpose. Moreover, on the first excursion by the complete squadron of 10 vessels, 4 of them took part for the first time. The excellent performance of the squadron as a whole was all the more remarkable.

Passing through the mark buoys, which the sloop H. M. S. Laburnum pointed out, the squadron, formed in three lines abreast, stood on beyond, to allow distance in which to steady down on the reverse course, then turned ships 90 degrees right together, by divisions in succession. This evolution formed the squadron in a single column which steered about SSW, until within two miles of the previous minefield. Two of the 10 vessels were on the right flank, so that a second, simultaneous turn, ships right, brought the squadron into the planting formation, consisting of a line of 8 ships abreast, stretching a mile and three-quarters, the remaining two in an advance line, 500 yards ahead, with three miles still to go, allowing 15 minutes time in which to settle down, before the order to begin planting. The execution of the operation was seamanlike to a degree, and the alignment, dis­tance keeping, and handling of the vessels, in approaching and on the planting line, were excellent throughout.

It would have widened the field unnecessarily to dispose all 10 ships abreast. The advanced ships would ease back into the main line as soon as two of the 8 ships directly astern had finished their minelaying and speeded ahead, leaving vacancies. Ample time was allowed to do this slowly, before their time came to plant, so as to avoid the extra demand on their engines which might be caused by dropping back too fast. The ships were neither new nor decrepit, but there was no excuse for taking unnecessary chances of spoiling a good performance by the squadron as a whole. Steady steaming and steering were important for safety— as well as for regularity of the mine-spacing. God help a ship whose engine broke down or rudder jammed during the mine­laying! With a strong head wind, she would drift into the mine­field, before even a destroyer could tow her clear. It was partly for such an emergency that the sweepers originally included with our force were wanted—powerful, handy, seagoing tugs, able to assist in any circumstances. The tugs that we had were not fast enough to keep up with the squadron. Fortunately, engine or steering disablement never occurred during planting, but two did occur just afterward, and once, in Fair Island Channel, on the way to plant, a ship had to stop for a disabled feed pump. It was 11 o’clock at night, pitch dark, with the tide turning strong towards the 9th minefield, and in the submarines’ thoroughfare. As I slowed the squadron and waited for report of the probable length of delay, I felt what a reliance a good tender would have been!

The support force on the third excursion, the 4th Battle Squad­ron, came close enough to observe the minelaying, steaming along parallel, four miles distant, for an hour. Its commander, in H. M. S. Hercules, was Vice Admiral Sir Montague E. Browning, who, with the French Rear Admiral Grasset, had come from Bermuda in the earliest days of our entering the war, to attend the first conference on our naval participation, and as their flagships, H. M. S. Leviathan and the Jeanne d’Arc, stood in to Hampton Roads, the San Francisco had been the vessel to salute their flags. Now, in the same ship, it was a pleasure to lead a large, new mine squadron, performing so creditably before such an observer, the more so as Admiral Browning had sent a special message of welcome upon our arrival from America.

After this excursion was over and all the reports were in from the several ships, showing that all mines had been planted, with no mishaps of any kind, and that the vessels were ready to under­take another excursion, the following signal was sent:

The squadron commander extends sincere congratulations upon the com­pletion of to-day’s mining operation by the whole squadron. It was a handsome performance that would have done credit to a squadron of long experience. The squadron commander, the captains, the officers, and every man may rightly feel deep pride in having earned a success worthy of our navy’s best traditions. 7.45 p. m., 15 July, 1918.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Some Incidents

By consensus of opinion, the limit of safe approach to a mine­field in the open sea was five miles. Where appreciable current exists, a heavy sea may cause mines to step along, or “ migrate there is no telling how far—and the danger from mines adrift is naturally greater near a minefield than elsewhere. Mines are designed to become safe on breaking adrift and many of them are, but far from all. Submergence in salt water may derange the mechanism for that safety purpose. There was very little current across Area A, however, and the fine tactical qualities shown by the squadron lent confidence that it could be safely conducted much nearer to our minefields than five miles. Since the barrage plan had been revised, this closer approach had become necessary, if we were to get the whole barrage in between the southernmost line, already laid, and the northern limit, which had been publicly proclaimed. There was some aversion to proclaiming a new limit and we had no mind to say it was necessary. So, instead of lapping the ends of adjacent minefields, the practice was adopted of “ butting ” the new field close to the end of its neighbor, thus continuing the same line with only a small gap between adjacent ends.

Our first news of damage inflicted on the enemy came in mid- July, soon after the second excursion, though the barrier was then hardly more than begun. The information was authentic but not very circumstantial—the standing policy was against that. Four submarines were mentioned. , One of them lost nearly all her fuel and called by wireless for help, so loudly that it was overheard and a British force was sent out to capture or destroy her—but too late. Another German submarine had come to her aid, and the two got safely back. Further details are lacking.

The third excursion, together with the British minefields in Area C, completed the equivalent of one system, extending from the Norway coast as far west as o degrees longitude. The prohibi­tion against laying any mines farther westward than that was still in force—although the enemy submarines had changed their route so as to pass clear to the westward of the partial barrier. So our fourth excursion began a second “ system” parallel to and five miles distant from the first.

Leaving the bases during the night of 28 July, and taking final departure from Buoy No. 2, which marked the north end of the division between Areas A and C, we ran south, clearing the ends of three British deep minefields by three miles—quite safe to do if they were all in their intended places. Then, by an “ isodromic ” maneuver—not easy and little favored, on account of the preci­sion that is requisite, but necessary on this occasion—our three columns, with San Francisco making a fourth on the left, formed a single line to the right, of eight ships, with two more in an advanced line, all steering about WSW. Being on the outside of the turn, the old San Francisco had to spring from 12 to 16J knots within a few minutes, to gain her station on the southern flank in time, but no parade ground evolution could have been done more smoothly, and the quickness with which all ships steadied into accurate distance and bearing showed that, in future, the steady­ing interval could be safely reduced. Originally a half hour, it was cut down to 75 seconds.

Commander Moir, a new escort leader, in H. M. S. Valhalla, smiled slightly as he read over the mining order for the first time and I asked whether it were about this isodromic movement. He replied, No; he was wondering how they could execute one of the intermediate changes which the order prescribed to be made en route, to sort the ships out from the assembling order to the arrangement which they would be in preparatory to swinging into minelaying formation. It did look mixed at first glance, there was no denying, but I said, “ Watch them do it, the Rules of the Road will govern ”—and when the time came, I felt quite willing for any one to be a witness.

At the end of a minefield, the wing and the center ships simul­taneously would drop mark buoys, 250 yards from the last mines, and again one mile farther on, making in all six buoys in two lines. When we came back after 10 days or so, to continue that field, a destroyer would go well ahead, to sight and stand by the outermost buoy, and the flagship would lead for it, but not steer towards the minefield side of it until the inner line of buoys had been sighted—those which were only 250 yards from the mines. The outer buoys were regarded with suspicion until some of the inner ones were seen to be in place. It was then deemed safe to lead between the two lines of buoys, for as long as there were any between the ships and the minefield, ships would be at least 250 yards clear. Passing in column midway between the lines of buoys to make the start, and allowing for the simultaneous turn into line abreast, the squadron could begin mining by the time the outer buoys were passed, thus leaving a gap of but little more than a mile between the mines in the old field and those in its continuation.

An early care while fitting out had been to organize and train a good lookout service. This duty is a severe tax on the men, and when, time after time, they see nothing suspicious, they tend to relax. Fearing this, as we had yet seen no submarines, barring an alarm on the first excursion, a special warning to lookouts was issued, which, fortunately was well supported on our next trip. A beautiful, peaceful evening off the Orkneys was rudely inter­rupted by messages from three different sources within the space of a minute, reporting a submarine estimated to be a half-hour ahead of us, outbound, making for Fair Island Channel. Taking no chances on its having innocent intentions towards us, Captain Godfrey turned his flank destroyers outward and bang! bang! went four depth charges, and four more on the other side—just to let the sub know he might except a hearty reception. The Aroostook’s siren then shrieked for “ torpedo to starboard! ” the ship charging ahead across another’s bows, and the Housatonic’s steering chain took that occasion to break. Serenity was gone, for a time at least, but being in a swept channel, there was small choice for maneuvering. All we could do was to shorten up our forma­tion before dark shut in and trust to our escort and a good lookout.

In the event of a submarine appearing, our role was to make off, leaving the attack to the destroyers and being careful not to harm them by our own fire. The escort was prepared to engage its own kind, as well as submarines, and even to make a sacrifice attack on light cruisers, to assist our escape under cover of a smoke screen, but our moderate speed—15 knots at best when keeping together— and the small number and caliber of our guns, made us rather helpless against an enemy cruiser’s long-range, 6-inch gunfire and high speed.

Upon returning from an Allied conference in Malta on mining the Mediterranean, Rear Admiral Strauss came out with the squadron the seventh excursion, 26 August,, hoisting his flag in the San Francisco. This was the first time our program was inter­fered with by fog, which shut in thick soon after assembly. Incidentally, our tug Patuxent, going out ahead with her sister Patapsco to observe, found herself in the midst of a large convoy from Norway that night and had a collision, which fortunately was not serious to either vessel.

After four hours’ delay by fog, we made our departure buoy and steered for the end of the 5th minefield, 13 miles distant. Fog shut in again when we were half way, but fortunately lifted just before we should have had to turn back, find minelaying began, although the weather was still far from settled. Twice during the schedule, dense fog enveloped us, but the planting went on without interruption. It was rather ghostly to hear and feel the explosions of the defective mines, yet see nothing—not even the neighboring ship. Several times Admiral Strauss expressed admiration for the steady alignment of the formation, and upon leaving the San Francisco when we had returned to port, he signalled, “ The Commander Mine Force congratulates Mine Squadron One on the seamanlike manner in which the seventh excursion was accomplished by all ships.”

On this occasion, for the first and only time, one ship had to drop out from an excursion, the Saranac having a smash inside the cylinder of her main circulating pump shortly after the squad­ron had assembled. Temporary repairs being impossible soon enough, she returned to base. The absence of her 580 mines left the 7th minefield incomplete, and to make good the defect a special excursion was ordered for the Shawmut, Captain Cluverius, and Aroostook, Captain Tomb, the two fast minelayers.

Met off Cromarty buoy at 6 a. m., 31 August, by Commander Lowry in H. M. S. Wrestler, with three other destroyers, the detachment proceeded, first at 15 then at 17 knots, by the usual route to the end buoys of the seventh field, then close along the northern side of the field. The Baltimore had been on that flank, and after planting all her mines had dropped a buoy and again, at about 9-mile intervals, two other buoys, while steaming 500 yards abeam of the nearest planting vessel. A fresh breeze was now blowing, making the buoys none too easy to pick up. Fog had prevailed while the Baltimore was dropping the buoys, making uncertainty as to their position and also as to whether they were there at all. Accordingly, the detachment first ran parallel to the minefield, from moo to 2000 yards outside the line of buoys, so as to sight them all; then it turned back and began planting, Shawmut first. The mines were laid in one line averaging 600 yards outside the line of buoys, or about 1100 yards from the nearest line of mines, thus completing the original field neatly without wasting space. The mining installations of these fast ships worked as well at 17 knots as they had at 12, and altogether the excursion gave the two a good try out. They were back in their berths 26 hours after leaving them, in ample time to embark their mines for the squadron's next excursion, and with a record to their credit for laying 580 mines on the closest parallel to a deep-sea minefield that had ever been run.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Signals

Signals had come well to the front in the course of the first excursions, not only for tactics but also for assembling data quickly, so that a fairly comprehensive report of the excursion might go to headquarters by the first boat to shore after arrival. Spelling out messages by Morse or semaphore proved too slow and inaccurate for reports from nine ships in one afternoon, often in hazy weather, so a collection of phrases, and questions to be answered by reference number, was established, to be signaled by hoists of flags.

As we had expected to use the British signal system, a special training class was formed at Newport in January, while the mine­layers were fitting out. I11 consequence, from first falling in with British destroyers, the San Francisco communicated easily, and British flags could be used on the first excursion. But neither the British system nor our own was found to suit our needs, and to combine British flags with American meanings made a risk of misinterpretation at a critical time. So the American flags were restored to use and the British ones discontinued, except a few retained by each ship for calls and other routine uses, while the flagship kept a full set, for communicating with the escort by the British code. A new system, embodying several of the British features, was devised, mainly by Lieut. Commander E. S. R. Brandt, then flag lieutenant, and was put into effect on the second excursion. The main feature was that the meaning of tactical signals—those which required immediate action, affecting the ships’ movements—was self-evident to anyone who knew the names of the flags.

Flags and associations already familiar having been utilized, the signalmen quickly learned. Separation among three anchorages prevented signal practice by the squadron as a whole in port, but drills several times daily at each anchorage and on the way out to the mining ground enabled the new code to be used on the full squadron’s first trip. Great interest was evident among the signal forces of all ships. Signals were habitually hoisted only just long enough, as determined by experience, for the average vessel to repeat the hoist. Competition became keen not to be the cause of delay, and very soon the signaling attained an accuracy, rapidity, and style comparing favorably with the best performance of any type of vessel. Once or twice the Quinnebaug—whose mast was not high—beat the flagship in getting her own signal up to the yardarm. Less than a minute by day, and often only 30 seconds, would suffice between giving an order for a tactical signal and beginning its execution by the squadron—without a glance at a key book or card at either end. Most efficient telephone ser­vice would hardly equal that.

The Vampire soon picked up our new system, so that signals to her could frequently be dispensed with. Upon one of ours going up, the corresponding British signal on Vampire would be seen in a few moments.

Accuracy of transmission and of record being very important where so much was done by signal, these were stimulated by daily comparison of the signal records of all ships. A “ discrepancy ” sheet was compiled, to show the errors and omissions of each ship for the previous day, and directly after each excursion, the signal officers would meet, to compare the signal records of the trip. A further check was kept by a staff officer being constantly on watch on board the San Francisco when at sea, taking notes upon incidents and errors in signals, station-keeping, and the behavior of ships. The Recording Angel could not have been more obser­vant. I would edit the rough record at the end of a watch,' references to the pertinent instructions were entered, and a smooth “ Discrepancy Report ” was sent to all ships at the end of the excursion, as a reminder of their sins.

Had the signal officers been regulars and but one system of signals been in use from the beginning, the high standard main­tained would have been commendable. The attainment of such a standard by inexperienced personnel, adopting a new system on very short notice, was highly creditable to all concerned. Espe­cially should there be mention of Chief Quartermaster William H. Kerins, of the San Francisco, and the other chiefs, whose training and management of their signalmen and whose own skill and fidelity made our quick and accurate communication possible.