On the parade ground several companies of marines were going through maneuvers, while on every ship bluejackets were engaged in various tasks, and activities were in full sway in the many large manufacturing buildings at the lower end of the yard, near the waterfront.
It was a scene to inspire the lads with a full appreciation of the great military and naval service of which they were to become a part, and in their patriotic enthusiasm they forgot even their healthy young appetites.
Mess was in one of the big barracks, where they mingled with hundreds of others, some of whom were raw rookies like themselves, others of longer experience, and some of previous service in Haiti and elsewhere.
The big sergeant, whose name they learned was Martin, brought the entire eighteen together immediately after the meal, and they joined a score of others who had arrived a few days before. All were then marched to another building, where their instructions began, and they were informed that before night they would be uniformed.
This was welcome information, indeed. To get into the uniform of Uncle Sam! Every young man in the group breathed a little deeper and drew himself up a little straighter at the thought.
We will not trace Joe, Jerry and Slim through their initial instruction, for it had lasted less than an hour, when an orderly hastily entered the room, saluted the officer who was acting as instructor, and then talked to him for a moment in an undertone.
The officer's countenance underwent a curious change. Finally he turned toward the youths before him.
"Are there any men here who are already telegraphers?" he asked.
Instantly Joe, Jerry, and two others arose, while Slim tried to, but had great difficulty getting himself out of the small, school-child's sort of desk at which he was seated. Finally he managed it by sliding out sidewise, the way he had entered, instead of attempting a direct upward rise.
"How many of you can use the international code?" the officer continued.