One brave young officer died before relief arrived. Though still suffering from the effects of the explosion, which had stunned him, and weakened by his efforts after the ship sank, Lieutenant Kalk swam from one raft to another to equalize the weight on them. Striving for the safety of his men, he overtaxed his own strength, and died of exhaustion and exposure. Men who were on the raft with him said, "He was game to the last." His courage and self-sacrifice are commemorated in a destroyer that bears his name.
There was no other serious damage to destroyers until March 19, 1918, when a British vessel collided with the Manley. The collision exploded the depth-charges on her decks, killing Lieutenant Commander Richard McC. Elliot, of New York, and 33 enlisted men, and injuring 22 others. The Manley, though badly damaged, was gotten to port and repaired.
The destroyers never halted in their warfare on the submarines, and many encounters were reported in the early part of 1918, probably the most notable being those of the Allen, Feb. 2d; the Reid, March 18th; the Isabel; the Stewart, April 23; the Porter, April 28; the joint attack of the Patterson, Beale, Burrows and Allen on May 19th, and that of the Sterrett on June 1st. All these were given official credits by the British Admiralty, which also gave the Tucker (Lieutenant Commander W. H. Lassing), which bombed and sent down a U-boat on August 8th, the credit "possibly sunk."
The armed yachts, the sub-chasers and all the rest played well their parts. But after all it was the gallant destroyers which did most to combat the submarine menace. At sea two-thirds of the time, they escorted thousands of vessels in and out of European ports. Some of them made astounding records. The first year after we entered the war at least three, the Porter, Davis and Conyngham, steamed nearly 65,000 miles each, over twice the distance around the globe, while the Caldwell for some time averaged 8,500 miles a month, over 280 miles a day. No class of ship, big or little, ever excelled these records.
Commander Byron McCandless, who commanded the Caldwell, went to Mare Island Navy Yard not long after her keel was laid, and banged away so persistently to get his ship finished that the workmen called him "Captain Bing-Bang." It was completed in quick time, and for its trial trip made a record run from San Francisco through the Panama Canal to Hampton Roads, going thence across the Atlantic and into service in the war zone.
There were many stories of the destroyers' efficiency, and one told me by a gentleman on his return from Europe impressed me particularly. Making its way across the North Atlantic, a convoy of troop-ships was still some three hundred miles from land when a voyager, who was making his first trip across, remarked: "All you can hear about nowadays is the Navy. It is the Navy this, the Navy that; but as far as I can see, the Navy is not doing much in this war."
One of the civilians in the party who had a son in the Navy, rose to his feet, pulled out his watch and said: "In ten minutes six United States destroyers will meet this convoy."
"What are you talking about?" asked the voyager. "How do you know?"
"Well," was the confident answer, "it is now 4:05 o'clock. The destroyers are ordered to meet this convoy at 4:15, and they will be on time."
The party went out on deck to watch, and on the minute, at 4:15, destroyers hove in sight. Swinging into line, on each side of the convoy, the saucy little vessels, heaving foam and spray from bow to stern, spanked along through the heavy seas.