The Radio Gunner

by Alexander Forbes

In the Navy Department a comparative quiet reigned; the atmosphere was almost that of an efficiently organized and smoothly running business. Until two or three days before the declaration of war Secretary Mortimer was daily in conference for an hour or more with a certain civilian, but so large was the department and so many were the new faces that no one noticed him to be the same individual as the warrant officer, Radio Gunner Evans, who, the day before war was declared, was assigned to duty in the Radio Division of the Bureau of Engineering. Here Evans was given a room to himself. On his desk were two telephones, one connected with the department exchange, the other with the Secretary’s room by a special wire. Evans had himself completed the laying of these wires into his own room and made the terminal connection with the telephone on his desk. No one but he and Mortimer knew where this line led.

Nominally Evans’s duty was the direction and supervision of a group of civilian experts engaged in designing new radio apparatus for installation on ships and shore stations. He was also frequently seen at the office of the Director of Naval Communications.

It behooves the personnel of this office to coöperate cordially with the personnel of the Bureau of Engineering, since the latter makes the apparatus for the former to use, though some people don’t understand this fact. In general, the personnel of the D.N.C. office did not know why this warrant officer should appear from time to time, and some said, “Who’s this guy, anyway, and what’s he doing round here?”

To which query the answer was, as like as not, “Dunno; maybe he’s using this office as an alibi for dodging his work where he belongs.”

Before a state of war had existed two days, letters had been received from Mortimer by half a dozen of the best radio engineers in the country and a number of eminent investigators in various fields of physical science, asking them to come to Washington to confer with him. Within a week nearly all of these men had come, and a comprehensive plan had been laid for the coöperative work whereby their brains could be utilized to the best advantage of the navy. At these conferences Commander Rich, head of the Radio Division of the Bureau of Engineering, was present, and the impression which he made on the scientists for his rapid grasp of what was essential in the great problem before them was such that more than one took occasion to congratulate Mortimer on having such a man in his organization, especially on having him in charge of so important a branch of the service as radio. About this time, also, Professor Jeremy, with rank of lieutenant-commander, was placed in charge of the naval weather service, and with a group of able young assistants began to attack his problem with energy and resource.

The public mind turned rather to the army than to the navy; to most people entry into the war meant the sending of troops to reinforce the armies of Northern Europe in the line of trenches stretching across the continent; the thought of the happenings on the sea scarcely figured in their minds. The popular hue and cry was, “Join the Army.” Congress began agitating the question of conscription for the army. But the navy needed enormous additions to its personnel.

Mortimer paid a visit to the Bureau of Engineering and, after discussing progress with the Bureau Chief and Commander Rich, he slipped into Evans’s room to discuss matters with him.

“It looks as if this conscription business might fill up the army and leave the navy high and dry,” he said. “I don’t think Congress understands that the main task is up to the navy, and we’ve got to have men to do it.”

“People don’t understand that, as a rule,” answered Evans. “They look at the battle-line across Europe, and think that’s the war. They don’t understand that the war can be carried on only by means of certain commodities some of which can be produced only in the Western Hemisphere; that the vast resources of South America are of vital importance to whichever side controls them; that the control of the sea has thus far given the enemy access to these resources and denied it to our allies; and that the one way to checkmate them is to secure complete control of the seas for ourselves. Welcome as our army would be to reinforce those of Northern Europe, even if we got it safely across, it could do nothing decisive against the present defensive methods in use along the enemy’s line. No, the game is up to us; you’re dead right, we’ve got to have our share of the men.”

“I believe the President could do something about it by executive action,” said Mortimer. “But I’m not sure if he’s quite alive to the importance of the navy himself. Military affairs are not his long suit. If I urge on him the importance of it, the danger is that, unless I can give him convincing reasons, he may assume that it’s just the usual thing—each man wants his own particular show to be the biggest. I want to get the essential points down in convincing and unanswerable form, and I’d like to have you help me prepare the case.”