High Seas
The violent seas broke over our fo’castle, throwing the spray as high as the flying bridge, 100 feet above the water. It tore gun rails apart, lifted lifeboats from their fastenings, opened shell cases and did considerable all-around damage. Some good came of it—the first division men found no reason to wash down decks for some time to come.
The destroyers were unable to keep up with us, and it is remarkable that they stayed with us as long as they did. The sea proved too much for them. When caught in the trough formed by two high waves, hardly more than the top of their stacks and masts was discernible. They trailed behind us the entire next day, within radio call, and turned back upon receiving word from us that we were out of the danger zone. The danger from submarines was rather slight when it is considered how difficult a matter it would be for them to launch a torpedo accurately in a heavy sea.
We continued upon our course without event until off the Grand Banks of Newfoundland. Here we ran into a fog so thick that it was impossible to see our bow from the bridge, and every minute for eight hours of this day our steam fog whistle blew steadily, warning all nearby ships of our approach.
Nantucket Lightship, the first indication of land, was reported by one of the signal boys on the night of February 18th. Montauk Point and Shinnecock Lights soon followed and the next morning found us at the entrance to New York Harbor, our first overseas trip successfully completed.
The ship was brought up the river to the dock in the thickest fog seen for years. Capt. W. S. McLaughlin gauged the turn nicely and Capt. W. J. Bernard had a tug stationed at the end of Pier 4 to guide the Leviathan in by whistle signal. It was a highly creditable performance.
Second Trip to Liverpool
After a stay of thirteen days in New York, during which time our supplies were replenished and minor repairs and alterations were made, we steamed out of New York Harbor on March 4th, for our second trip overseas. On board we had 8,242 troops, with the following organizations:
120th Field Artillery, 121st Field Artillery, 2nd Motor Mechanics, 9th and 10th Brigades, 20th F. A., 5th Div. School; Maj. Gen. J. T. Dickman. Accompanying us was H. B. Davison, Chairman of the War Council, American Red Cross. After passing out of the channel we dropped our Pilot at Sandy Hook and once more set our course at 90 degrees headed due east. Fire Island Light was passed abeam at 2.43 the same afternoon. We were making a standard speed of 20 knots which was maintained throughout the day while the weather remained clear and the sea smooth. After sundown the ship was darkened with the exception of a few blue lights, commonly known as battle lights, located at the various watertight doors and at the stairways. For two days following, the weather remained moderate with occasional rain squalls and light northeast winds. From this time on all of our watertight doors were kept closed while an army guard kept constant watch on all doors to see that they were not tampered with or opened. Abandon ships drills were held each day and it may be mentioned that there was ample lifeboat equipment for every soldier aboard. Each soldier was provided with a lifebelt. On the afternoon of March 7th smoke was sighted dead ahead, we discovered it was a British cruiser and a half hour later we passed her, on our starboard beam 15,000 yards distant. On this same day a soldier on board was placed in solitary confinement for making seditious remarks.
At 6.15 A. M., March 9th, the following radio message, which was sent broadcast to all ships, was received:
“Vessels may meet three Allied submarines now proceeding from New London to Bermuda. Not escorted at present.”
We entered the War Zone on the eight to twelve watch on the morning of March 11th, picking up our escort of destroyers, seven in number.
The rendezvous is previously arranged by cable and the destroyers are picked up by wireless from 24 to 36 hours before meeting. The times of arrival at the rendezvous are exchanged, and the meeting place arranged.
After picking up our escort, of which the Destroyer Manly was the senior ship, we proceeded on a zigzag course heading again for Liverpool. While passing through St. George’s Channel the Manly was seen to suddenly swerve out of the formation and while only 800 yards from our port bow she commenced firing with her forward battery and fired a five-inch shell apparently at some suspicious object sighted. She immediately dropped a depth charge. It was so close that the Leviathan shook from stem to stern and many thought that we had struck a mine. What the object was we do not know, but if it was a sub, we extend our most heartfelt sympathies to the families of the crew. We proceeded on our trip without further event and the following afternoon found us in Liverpool once more. Immediately upon arriving the disembarking of troops and baggage was begun. The next morning, before all troops had left the ship, it was necessary for us to proceed to dry dock while the tide was high. One of the river ferry-boats unfortunately passed too close to us and suffered considerable damage, although she had been properly warned to give us right of way.
Safely moored in Gladstone Dock this same afternoon, the disembarking of troops was continued and completed the next morning. It was fine to see regiments of American troops, with flags unfurled and bands playing popular Yankee airs, marching to war. The boys aroused the admiration of the English.
Our stay in Liverpool, from March 12th to April 10th, was similar to the previous one. Minor repairs were made and our troop-carrying capacity was increased.
English contractors had been coaling the ship for at least three weeks and a few days before sailing it was found necessary for the crew to take this work in hand. The men worked faithfully, night and day, for each additional ton placed in the bunkers brought them so much closer to America—“God’s Country.”