Mr. Simon Lake.
When the Krupps first took up the idea of constructing submarines for the German and Russian governments, the great German firm consulted with Mr. Lake, who was at that time living in Europe. An elaborate contract was drawn up between them. The Krupps agreed to employ Mr. Lake in an advisory capacity and to build “Lake type” boats, both in Russia, where they were to erect a factory and share the profits with him, and in Germany, on a royalty basis. Before he could sign this contract, Mr. Lake had to obtain the permission of the directors of his own company in Bridgeport. In the meanwhile, he gave the German company his most secret plans and specifications. But the Krupps never signed the contract, withdrew from going into Russia, and their lawyer coolly told Mr. Lake that, as he had failed to patent his inventions in Germany, his clients were perfectly free to build “Lake type” submarines there without paying him anything and were going to do so.
The famous Krupp-built German submarines that are playing so prominent a part in the present war are therefore partly of American design. Whenever Mr. Lake reads that another one of them has been destroyed by the Allies, his emotions must be rather mixed.
CHAPTER IX
A TRIP IN A MODERN SUBMARINE
Lieutenant Perry Scope, commanding the X-class flotilla, was sitting in his comfortable little office on the mother-ship Ozark, when I entered with a letter from the secretary of the navy, giving me permission to go on board a United States submarine. Without such authorization no civilian may set foot on the narrow decks of our undersea destroyers, though he may visit a battleship with no more formality than walking into a public park.
“We’re too small and full of machinery to hold a crowd,” explained the lieutenant, “and the crowd wouldn’t enjoy it if they came. No nice white decks for the girls to dance on or fourteen-inch guns for them to sit on while they have their pictures taken. Besides, everything’s oily—you’d better put on a suit of overalls instead of those white flannels.”
There were plenty of spare overalls on the Ozark, for she was the mother-ship of a family of six young submarines. Built as a coast defense monitor shortly after the Spanish War, she had long since been retired from the fighting-line, and was now the floating headquarters, dormitory, hospital, machine-shop, bakery, and general store for the six officers and the hundred and fifty men of the flotilla.