Jack Heaton, wireless operator

by A. Frederick Collins

Then there is another electrical system that closes all the bulkhead doors by electricity. The instant the tell-tale lamp lights up and shows that a compartment is leaking the commander presses a button which rings a bell in it and this warns any of the crew who may happen to be in it to get out; by throwing a switch the current operating the motors which work the bulkhead door is cut in and the door is screwed down watertight. Should a shell put the conning tower out of commission the boat can still be steered from the navigating room in her hull.

The power plant that drove the H-24 was a big 12-cylinder oil burning engine that developed, I should say, about 3,000 horsepower and it worked on the same general plan as a motor car engine. Now when the boat runs light or awash the engine drives her propeller direct and at the same time the engine runs a dynamo and this charges a large storage battery.

But when the boat is running submerged the engine has to be shut down because the burnt gases cannot exhaust into the water as the pressure of the latter is too great. A powerful electric motor is coupled to the propeller shaft and this is energized by the current from the storage battery.

The ballast tanks into and from which water is pumped to make the boat sink and rise is in the middle of the bottom of the hull. The torpedo room is for’ard in the bow of the boat, our sleeping quarters aft of this and my wireless room lay between our sleeping quarters and the navigating room.

While life on the submarine was not exactly what you would call a pleasure bout still we were all keyed up to the point where we wanted to get in our fine work on the boches. Finally the time came when we received orders to move and while only the officers knew where to or for what purpose at the time of departure we were all let into the secret after we had got under way.

At the beginning of the war the Germans had vessels of various sizes in all parts of the world. Those that were in our ports were interned while some of the smaller ones that were at sea became pirate ships, technically known as raiders. They flew the flag of Germany when it suited them to do so but they hoisted any flag that would best help out their diabolical plans.

These raiders scoured the seven seas and whenever they ran across an unarmed merchant ship bound for any port of the Allies they promptly shelled and sunk her and, more often than not, without giving the ill-fated crew enough time to take to the life boats. As Bill Adams used to say, “I calls it murder.”

Of course if the raiders could have taken their prizes to their own ports they would gladly have done so for Germany sorely needed whatever cargoes they carried, but the raiders could not do this for the Allies had blockaded every port of the Central Powers. This being true the next best thing to do from the German point of view was to sink the ship and drown the crew.

There were two or three of these German raiders steaming up and down our Atlantic coast and they operated a few hundred miles off shore and out of the beaten paths. It seemed likely that they worked, part of the time at least, in conjunction with U-boats for whenever a ship went forth armed a torpedo sank her but if she was unarmed the raider’s guns sent her to the bottom.

Uncle Sam was getting mighty tired of this sort of business and so he hatched up a little scheme. A small steamer, the Henrietta, was fitted out without guns, painted a sea-gray and flew the stars and stripes when she was sent to sea. Our submarine was sent with her, not exactly as a convoy for she was not sailing for any overseas port but instead she was sent out simply as a decoy.