Sales Division
The Sales Division comprises live ship’s stores (canteens) and the clothing and small stores issue room. With troops on board, the canteens, which are located in accessible parts of the ship, make approximately ten thousand separate sales each day, with a total daily cash receipt of about $5,000. The largest day’s business amounted to $6,498, another record to be added to the many laurels already won by the Rainbow Division, units of which were being transported at the time. As one of the canteen storekeepers put it, “If those Rainbows can fight like they can spend, I’d like to see them in action!”
On the shelves of these canteens may be found the usual line of necessities—and luxuries—carried in all Navy canteens, but in unusual quantities; from the most commonplace pair of shoe laces to the most dainty package of bon-bons. Naturally, a vast amount of small items must be handled to make up $5,000 worth of daily sales. And these sales are made, not in leisurely lady-like fashion, over counter and show-case, but through the canteen window to a never-ending line of clamoring sailors and doughboys by but five storekeepers—one to each canteen. These five “salesmen,” especially selected and trained for this type of duty, wait on more “customers” in a day, it is believed, than any other sales people in existence, including the busiest dispenser of wet-goods on Broadway during that torrid spell just prior to July 1st, 1919.
In view of the reported atrocious activities of the Hun in our country during the war, every precaution was taken to procure uncontaminated supplies for use of the crew and troops. As a safeguard, samples of edible stores taken on board were submitted to Surgeon Dunlap for examination in the ship’s laboratory.
While the duties of the sales force are necessarily active and exacting, discretion and tact are exercised in handling such a large body of waiting “customers,” which accounts for the fact that errors and “kicks” are few and far between.
In studying the likes and dislikes of the troops being transported, in order to ascertain the varieties and quantities of canteen stores to carry for sale, it was readily discovered that tastes of the various units differ as widely as do their geographic origins. Hence, when a division that originated in Dixie embarks, peanut candy to the tune of from six to eight tons will be consumed during the voyage, together with prodigious packs of cigarettes; when a mid-western outfit takes passage, peanut candy and cigarette sales fall off, but large inroads are made in the stock of chocolates, chewing tobacco and Navy postcards; when far westerners like the Sunset Division come aboard mountains of “Bull Durham,” brown cigarette papers, caramels and playing cards are broken out of the store rooms, for the boys of the West are not strong for chocolate and peanut candy, though they do “roll their own” and wear out the ship’s police force by endeavoring to keep pinochle games going in every conceivable part of the ship. But regardless of geographic origin, stormy weather creates desires much akin to all doughboys—a desire to lay off such joys as chocolates, bon-bons and poker; a desire to be left alone, not too far from the out board rail, with a package of that wonderful panacea, lemon drops, of which as many as three tons will be consumed during a particularly stormy crossing. During a bit of heavy weather, one of the ship’s wits, feigning much excitement, rushed into a group of forlorn sea-sick warriors, to inform them that “Here comes a torpedo—straight for us!” “Thank God,” came the answering chorus.
Aside from the fifteen tons of various candies loaded in Hoboken, each trip witnesses the consumption of approximately two hundred thousand cigarettes, twenty thousand cigars, three thousand packages of Bull Durham and eleven thousand pieces of soap.
The Clothing and Small Stores issue to the crew about nine thousand dollars’ worth of wearing apparel monthly. This active branch of the Sales Division carries a stock of supplies valued at fifty thousand dollars—from three cent spools of thread to twenty dollar overcoats. For the hard to fit and the Beau Brummel C. P. O.’s, the made-to-measure business is no small item.
The total annual business done by the Sales Division—sales to the crew and troops, including transfers of stores to other ships and stations in Europe, amounts to nearly half a million dollars. All items handled by the ship’s stores are sold at cost, with but a very small margin of profit. In some instances the selling price is lower than the cost. It is endeavored to make not over ten per cent profit, the money thus accumulated going to the entertainment fund, which provides the means of entertaining the crew and troops with movie shows each night, and various other activities and equipments which are necessary to keep the boys amused and happy. The Disbursing Division of the Supply organization is just what the name implies, and expends more real cash than a flock of youthful Pittsburgh millionaires. Besides paying the volumes of never-ending bills for never-ending supplies used on board, the pay roll of the ship’s officers and men are kept by the yeomen, who comprise the personnel of this division. The Disbursing Officer peels off seventy thousand cold iron men each pay day, which happens twice a month. Pay day, the day the Eagle does his big stunt, to the sailors is “Der Tag.” The annual wages paid to the ship’s company approximates one million eight hundred thousand dollars.
The Storekeeping Section procure and carry in stock all the varied supplies used on board for the operation and maintenance of the ship. The store-rooms are veritable storehouses, stocked with every conceivable kind of supplies from deck swabs to grate bars.
One of the chief difficulties encountered during the early days was to find spare parts for the German electrical equipment. Our American standard equipment does not fit the German installations, and unless spares could be obtained the whole electrical system would have to be replaced with standard American fittings. Fortunately, there was quite a stock of German equipment remaining in England since the pre-war days. This had been carried in stock for the use of German ships calling at English ports. Practically all of this stock was purchased by the Leviathan, and was sufficient to run the ship until our own factories could be equipped to turn out this type of supplies and equipment. When the Army, Navy Yards and Shipping Board were clamoring for supplies, the task of procuring stock in quantities demanded by such a huge ship was indeed a difficult one. Thanks to the loyal co-operation of New York and New Jersey business men, and the Naval Commandeering Board, sufficient quantities of supplies were secured to keep going. A typical example of the difficulties encountered can be illustrated by the activity necessary to equip the ship’s hospital. The market was bare of such supplies, due to the incessant demands from our own and our Allies Army and Navy Medical Departments. Manufacturers of surgical supplies from all over the country were appealed to. Some had one kind of instrument, some another; from all of them finally evolved a complete and excellently equipped hospital, equalled by none afloat and surpassed by few ashore. This one purchase required nearly six weeks of effort and search to complete.
Some idea of the volume of supplies necessary to keep the good ship running may be gathered from the following:
For washing the interior decks, etc., about six tons of soap, six tons of soap-powder, and two tons of lye are used each trip.
The canvas bunk-bottoms represent an $85,000 purchase, while $6,000 would be necessary to replace the bed sheets. Blankets for the staterooms and hospital represent an expenditure of $30,000, while one of the many manila mooring lines, each 720 feet long, thirteen inches in circumference, and weighing 7,631 pounds, cost $2,403.77. The four-inch anchor chain cost $2,869.42 for each ninety foot length.
Returning Doughboys
