Twenty-four men—eight of the armed guard, and 16 of the merchant crew—were lost in the sinking of the Motano, which was torpedoed the night of July 31, 1917, in the English Channel off Portland. The vessel sank in less than a minute after she was struck. There was no time to launch lifeboats, and the men on deck were washed into the sea.
Survivors of merchant vessels sunk far from land, left in open boats to make their way to shore as best they could, underwent terrible hardships. When the Rochester was sunk November 2, 1917, 300 miles from the Irish coast, the second engineer and an oiler were killed by the explosion of the torpedo. One of the three lifeboats was lost. In another four of the crew perished before reaching land, and three died later from exposure. Five men of the armed guard were lost at sea and one died after rescue.
After the sinking of the Actaeon (the ex-German Adamstrum), November 24, 1917, a boat containing 19 of the armed guard and 6 of the merchant crew became separated from the other boats, lost its course, and rowed, sailed and drifted for eleven days before it reached Cape Villano, near Coruña, Spain. Four men died before reaching shore, three of the armed guard and one of the merchant crew.
The Armenia seemed to afford a special target for the U-boats. She was torpedoed on two occasions, but, though badly damaged, was, in each instance, safely taken to port and repaired. The night of December 5, 1917, about 20 miles from Dartmouth Light, England, a torpedo tore a hole 31 feet long and 15 feet wide in the Armenia's port side. Part of the crew took to the boats, thinking the ship would sink almost immediately; but the ship's captain and the head of the armed guard, Stief Homiak, chief boatswain's mate, remained aboard. Prompt measures were taken to keep the vessel afloat, the armed guard working with the crew. The hole in the side was covered with collision mats and other devices to keep out the water, and though the hold was flooded, the vessel was successfully navigated into Dartmouth. Two months later, after repairs were completed, the Armenia left Dartmouth, February 8, 1918, for West Hartlepool. Shortly after midnight, when about nine miles off St. Catherine's Light, Isle of Wight, she was struck by a torpedo which opened up a hole 40 by 30 feet, carried away the stern-post and propeller and broke the tail-shaft. Tugs came from shore and towed the vessel to Stokes Bay, and she was again repaired.
The submarines, particularly in the early months of the war, seemed especially anxious to get one of the American liners, St. Louis, St. Paul, New York and Philadelphia. Time and again, U-boats were sighted, evidently lying in wait for these fast steamers. The Philadelphia, on one occasion, sighted a periscope only a few hundred yards distant and saw the torpedo as it left the tube. By quick maneuvering, the steamship turned and escaped the missile. The St. Louis had several experiences with them. Sighting a periscope on the port beam, she opened a rapid fire and drove off the U-boat. Another time a torpedo was seen only 200 yards away, and then a periscope popped up, but by speed and quick maneuvering the liner escaped. Again a submarine was sighted three miles distant. The St. Louis opened fire and for nearly half an hour there was a running fight between "sub" and liner until at last the St. Louis sailed out of range.
There were many instances in which prompt and effective gunfire repulsed submarines, and in most cases where the U-boat's guns were not of superior range, the ship escaped. Thus on July 10, 1917, the Gold Shell drove off a "sub," as did the Dakotan on Sept. 6, 1917.
The Albert Watts and Westoil, oil tankers, had a thrilling encounter Nov. 28, 1917, with two submarines which, when first observed, were within 300 yards. Blazing away with all their guns, the ships compelled the enemy to dive to escape shelling. Then ensued a running fight that continued for four hours. Every now and then a periscope would bob up, in an effort to get in position to launch torpedoes. But the ships would fire again, and the periscopes disappear. At 10:30 the Watts struck a mine, and was damaged, but remained afloat. The rest of the convoy got to port that afternoon, and a few hours later the Watts arrived, crippled but still in the game.
The Westoil had another brush with the enemy March 12, 1918, when a "sub" appeared some distance astern. After a running fight the submarine gave up the contest, though she was of big type, and her guns were apparently heavier than those of the Westoil. The vessel's fire was too accurate for her; for the armed guard commander was a "sure shot," a gun-pointer from one of our dreadnaughts who in five years had never missed in short-range battle practice. They were "some gunners," those men of the armed guards!
I could fill a book with the exploits of these guards, for the Navy furnished guns and gunners to 384 vessels, and this service at one time or another employed 30,000 men. Begun March 12, 1917, in accordance with the President's order, the arming of merchantmen proceeded until nearly every American ship crossing the Atlantic was provided with this protection. The Bureau of Ordnance scoured the country for all the guns of proper calibers that were available, and some were even taken from cruisers and older battleships, to be replaced later when more could be manufactured. But crews were always ready and the guns were secured and installed in record time. Statistics compiled by an officer of the Armed Guard Section show that:
The 384 merchant ships armed made 1832 trans-Atlantic trips while in armed guard status.