Burial of the Dead
Upon our arrival in Brest we had on board 96 dead soldiers and three sailors. 58 of the former were buried in France, 33 were brought back to the States and seven were buried at sea in the war zone on the morning after we left Brest. We remained in Brest three days and left on the third evening at 5:30 P. M. The next morning at sunrise, after an imposing prayer by the chaplain, the flag was half-masted, taps were sounded, three volleys fired and the coffins containing the bodies of the dead soldiers were lowered gently into the sea. The ship was speeding at 21½ knots.
After seven days of mostly fair weather and without trouble from submarines, we docked in New York on the morning of October 16th. It was a nerve-racking voyage and we were all greatly relieved that the trip was over.
Tenth Overseas Trip
At 11:10 of the morning of October 27th we left New York bound overseas for the tenth and last trip. We had no idea that this was to be our last run of the German blockade with our precious cargo of Yankee doughboys. On this trip we carried the Tank Corps, who had for their motto: “Treat ’em rough!”
Troops, 8,123; Adv. School 8th Division; Casual Companies A, B, C, 487, 488, 489, 490; Tank Corps; 335th Btn. Tank Corps.; Adv. Debarking and Billet Group 8th Division; 336th Btn. Tank Corps; 337th Btn. Tank Corps; Attached Medical Personnel; Base Hospital No. 103; 540th Service Btn.; October Auto Repl. Draft Camp Gordon; Casual Co. No. 452; Base Hospital No. 106; Surgical Group No. 4; Colonel M. A. Elliott, 8th Division.
There had been rumors of peace while we were in New York and we had a sort of hunch that the war could not last much longer. The boys that we were taking over on this trip expressed disappointment, for they, too, had the same hunch, and regretted that they would never reach the front before the Armistice was signed.
On this trip we did not go to France, but to Liverpool instead, and as the ship needed certain repairs that would require drydocking we landed our soldiers in England. The trip was without any particular excitement and when we met our escort of destroyers they signaled that all German “subs” in that area had been recalled on October 21st. However, we took no chances and our gun crews remained at their posts as usual and were as vigilant as ever. November 3rd we were in Liverpool. On going into the channel a dense fog enveloped the river and we were obliged to go ahead at a low speed with the result that the tide receded before we could tie up to the landing stage and we were stuck in the mud for about seven hours.
While thus stranded we landed most of our troops and at midnight we were tied up at the landing stage. Next morning, we went into drydock. While we were in drydock the Armistice was signed and then—oh boy—we celebrated.
We were allowed liberty from 1 P. M. on that day and immediately the “gobs” and doughboys started for the main part of the city and mingled with the great crowds who paraded, held impromptu meetings and generally “went wild.” The celebration continued for nearly a week and the American soldiers and sailors participated with great spirit.
Thanksgiving day found us still in drydock and this was another big day for our crew, for a football game had been previously arranged between the army engineers and our crew and everyone was keyed up to the highest pitch.
Practice was held for two weeks on a cinder field adjoining the drydock yards. It was found necessary to have our football togs made in Liverpool by a woman dressmaker, as no sporting goods store carried them. Thanksgiving day came. There was a grand and glorious dinner and then we all proceeded to Everton Football Field in Liverpool which is credited with being the best field in England. It had been raining all day—usual Liverpool weather—a steady downpour and the field was muddy and slow. On one side of the field were the sailor rooters and on the other side the soldiers. Two bands enlivened proceedings. The first quarter ended 0-0 and through a hard and cleanly fought game the teams battled to a tie, 0-0. The navy team had made a remarkable showing and considering circumstances did well in preventing the army from scoring. The Leviathan boys had not practiced as long as the army, who had been playing all season, and furthermore the army had at least 8,000 men to pick from while the navy had but 2,000. Credit must be given to Lt. R. H. Jones, who coached the team and its success was greatly due to his hard work.
Several English newspaper men were present to witness and report the game. Following is an account of the game from their viewpoint:
A demonstration of the nearest approach to actual warfare was given this afternoon at Everton Field by the American bluejackets of the Leviathan and the American Army Engineers of Knotty Ash. The game greatly differs from the English rugby and is the nearest thing to warfare that we have ever seen. We were greatly surprised that there were not more casualties than there were, for the opposing teams went at each other as though they were deadly enemies about to destroy each other by brute force.
On Thanksgiving evening various dances and receptions were held for the Americans in Liverpool by the people of that city, and though we were 3,000 miles from the States we had a most enjoyable time. We certainly had lots to be thankful for.
On December 2nd we began to take on wounded soldiers that had been in hospitals in England and were waiting transportation to the States. We left Liverpool on December 4th, at 11 A. M., for Brest, France. We arrived in Brest the next morning at 11 A. M. and immediately started to coal ship and take on troops. This required three days and on December 8th at 2 P. M. we left France with our first load of home-going troops; they certainly were a happy lot of men. On the way over we encountered occasional rough weather, but this did not prevent us from speeding up and we arrived at Sandy Hook on December 15th where we anchored for the night owing to a dense fog.
As we made our way up the channel the next morning a great reception was given the troops on board. Our coming had been flashed by wireless and was heralded by all the newspapers. Numerous boats came out to meet us and bells and sirens rent the air. It was a typical New York welcome—big and hearty.
There were tears of gladness in the eyes of many of the soldiers on that frosty morning. It was the first time that they had seen their own land in many months and this coupled with the deep feeling and spirit manifested by the people for the returned heroes, touched all hearts. Just one year from the date that we started our first trip overseas, we had brought back some of the first returning troops of the war. We tied up to our pier at 8 A. M. and the next day a leave party of half the ship’s company left for a ten-day leave over Christmas.
Christmas Aboard the Leviathan—1918
J. M.
Four days after our arrival in New York the crew was paid and it was suggested that we have a Christmas party on board ship for as many orphans as could be taken care of. The idea met with unanimous approval and as each man was paid he donated as much as he could afford. The amount collected was sufficient to take care of 1,200 homeless children. Notices were sent to different orphan asylums and on Christmas morning the happy children came aboard for a good day’s fun.
The children were shown over the ship and a number who went on exploring tours of their own came to grief, tumbling out of stacks and ventilators and as black as the ace of spades. But that did not matter, it was all in their day’s fun and when dinner time came and the bugler sounded mess call they did not have to be informed what the call meant. They knew it was for dinner, why bless me, hadn’t they smelt the odor of roast turkey all over the ship. The dinner consisted of turkey, candied sweet potatoes, asparagus, celery, peas, cake, apples, oranges and bananas, milk, cocoa, and ice cream of three different kinds. All of this was prepared in the ships galley by the ship’s cooks and bakers and was a great compliment to their efficiency. But they enjoyed preparing it, you bet they did. After the children had eaten everything in sight and pocketed what was left, the mess hall was cleared of tables and benches and all the children gathered around the giant Christmas tree to receive a present. There was a Santa Claus, some say it was one of our chief petty officers, but most of us, the children most of all, believe he was the original St. Nick himself, for he certainly was generous with his presents. There was more than enough to go around—many of the children received two presents.
Children’s Christmas Party
The children were rounded up at 4 o’clock. As the time neared for one group of boys to depart it was found that two were missing and after an hour’s search they were found in the main engine room being entertained by the men on watch.
When the children had gone the sailors came in for their presents. Each man aboard received a bag from the Red Cross. The bags contained candy, cigarettes, pipes and tobacco and were donated by individual women from all over the country. The gifts were greatly appreciated by the “gobs,” one of whom voiced the sentiments of all on board by exclaiming that the Red Cross, take it from him, was “some Santa Claus.”
