“No; what’s the use? If we don’t get hit there is no use in losing our sleep. If we do get hit there’s always plenty of time for the men to turn out and fit their life-belts on.”
“If I thought we’d be attacked during the dark hours I’d like to stay up here on deck to-night and be on hand to see what happens when the attack comes,” said a soldier in a group that was moving bow-ward from the port rail.
“Forget it,” advised a corporal. “The guard would chase you below if you tried to stay on deck. After ‘hammocks’ is sounded no man is allowed on deck unless he is on duty. If there is an attack to-night the guard will have all the fun to divide with the forward gun-crew.”
A young naval petty officer standing just behind the bow gun wheeled abruptly, eyeing the soldier lot.
“Don’t you fellows get nervous,” he said. “This is my seventh trip across on a troopship, and to date the only thing I’ve seen to shoot at is the barrel that is chucked overboard when we’re to have target practice.”
“Who’s nervous?” demanded Pete.
“All of you,” replied the bluejacket calmly.
“Don’t you believe it!”
“That is not calling you cowards, either,” the bluejacket continued. “And let me give you a tip. If we’re still afloat when daylight comes, don’t any of you strain your eyesight looking for submarine conning towers sticking above the water. There won’t be any. No matter how many subs there may be about, they know better than to expose themselves with so many destroyers around and all the troopships armed. The most that any Hun submarine commander would show would be a foot of slim periscope for a few seconds, and it would be so far away that no one but a fellow used to looking for such things would see it. Want my advice?”
“If it’s any good,” nodded the corporal.