The Radio Gunner

by Alexander Forbes

As soon as the radio reports from the scouts showed that the enemy had joined forces, a third destroyer was sent to approach the scouts under cover of the smoke and haze in the northwest, telling them what course to steer and when to make the torpedo attack which should divert and absorb the attention of the enemy. The united fleet of the enemy was now only fifteen miles away bearing southeast; the booming of their heavy guns was clearly heard.

On every ship all hands were assembled and told that action of the first magnitude was at hand; the situation was outlined, conditions were favorable, and the outcome was in their hands.

On the Delaware, Admiral Johnson spoke to the men himself.

“The great battle is at hand,” he said. “Now is the chance of your lives to show what is in you. The outcome of the war is at stake. The advantage of visibility will all be on our side. You will see the enemy better than he can see you. It is a golden chance to do your best at gunnery; so keep your heads and shoot straight, and your first five minutes’ shooting will decide the issue. We are going to make it a swift and decisive victory, and it depends on you. In a few minutes’ time a detachment of our scouts and destroyers will make a desperate attack on the enemy’s battle-line from the farther side, partly to damage him with torpedoes, but chiefly to draw his fire from us. We are asking heroism of the highest order from them; let us see that it is not given in vain.”

Then “General Quarters” was sounded. The men ran eagerly to their action stations.

Now began a maneuver of the fleet which would have staggered the imagination of an admiral of the Jutland days. A brief series of signals went out from the Delaware, and at the word the countless ships of the fleet commenced an evolution so bewildering and involved that the keenest observer would have seen in it nothing but disorder and confusion. In complexity it surpassed the performance of the most intricate machine. Yet in an incredibly short time all ships fell as if by magic into battle-line in perfect formation, on a northwesterly course that slowly converged on the enemy.

As soon as the scouts commenced their simultaneous swing-around, they ceased sending signals lest they betray their move; but the destroyers, making the smoke screen where they had been, kept up the patter needed to inform the battle fleet of their progress. As soon as the scouts emerged from the lifting smoke screen and came into full view of the enemy battle-line in their final dash, they began again to use their radio.

The battle fleet of the Allies had now maneuvered into a position northeast of the enemy, broad on his starboard bow, and had swung into battle formation. The lookouts reported sighting the enemy battleships, and Fraser, now in the conning tower, noted with satisfaction how closely their position agreed with that deduced from the great mass of data which had been pouring into the plotting room. The radio compass had not failed. The maneuver, which had been his dream since he scratched the diagram on the ground in the Borge garden, was realized at last; it had worked even better than he had hoped. Then in the radio room the signals of the scouts were again heard.

“Attacking enemy on his port beam—range nine thousand yards—under heavy fire, big guns and secondary battery—range eight thousand yards”—and so on.

Thanks to the greater visibility to the southwest, the enemy battle-line was now clearly in view from the turrets and control tops; the range-finders had measured the range, the targets had been assigned, the trainers and pointers were “on,” and all were in readiness to open fire. Their suspense was nearing the breaking point. Then the results of the torpedo attack appeared; one battleship silhouette changed to a cloud of black smoke and vanished. The other disabled ship could be seen to drop out of line.