The Corsair in the war zone

by Ralph Delahaye Paine

AT ROSYTH. BACK ROW, FROM RIGHT, LIEUT. NOLAN, DR. AGNEW, COMMANDER PORTER, LIEUT. McGUIRE, ENSIGN ACORN FRONT ROW, LIEUT. PATTERSON, ENSIGN WANGERIN, PAYMASTER ERICKSON

Ensign Carroll Bayne stayed in the Corsair for a little while as an officer and was then transferred to staff duty at Brest, assisting Lieutenant Commander Tod who was Port Officer at the time. In his diary Bayne indicated what his duties were, and they suggest that the Naval Reserve officer was expected to turn his hand to almost everything, and at very short notice:

Mr. Tod took me around to-day to call on all the French admirals, etc., and they were very courteous. I got an awful call down from an American three-striper for not saluting him. I started to, but he did not see me, so I knocked off. However, he came back and gave me particular fits.... The Leviathan came in to-day with ten thousand troops. She is the most enormous thing I ever saw. It took three hours to moor her. She bumped a tanker coming in, almost sank the Burrows destroyer, and ended by sinking a French tug. The soldiers began coming ashore before she was moored. That packet needs considerable elbow-room. I went aboard the Leviathan at 6 A.M. and almost got lost in her. In fact, I did. Her bridge is much higher than the Corsair’s foretop. Weather beastly and we spent most of the day getting coal barges to and from her....

June 25th. The Leviathan sailed for the States. I was out there until she left, helping to unshackle her and get her under way. I have the night trick, so will have to sleep in the office. This is some job.... The Great Northern and Northern Pacific came in with troops and will leave to-morrow night. They are certainly making speed back and forth these days.... July 1st. Started out at 6 A.M. and boarded fifteen ships. One had run aground on a rock and her bow was smashed and the fore-peak full of water. I made arrangements to dock her to-morrow.

July 4th. Big parade to-day, but I saw none of it. Twenty-three American transports came in and I had to board them all, a four-hour job. We are expecting more troop-ships to-morrow. It is up to me to get them coaled, watered, and ready to turn around.... July 11th. The Von Steuben left to-night in a heavy storm. Commander Tod, Major O’Neil, and I went out to meet a convoy of thirteen ships, all carrying troops. The Major got very sick in the rough sea. We had the devil of a time, and no other word applies. Got back at 3 A.M. and had to anchor and then board all these ships in total darkness. Another one of those ships from the Great Lakes broke down and that means work for me to-morrow. This is the fourth one of the kind that has gone to pot here. I wish they could be left at home.

July 18th. Roughest day yet, seas very high. I went over to assist in getting the Leviathan under way. She started off at seventeen knots and her back-wash came within an ace of upsetting us. Had a tough time making landings on this batch of troop-ships. When I got alongside the Westerdyke a huge wave slammed my boat against her, carrying away all my superstructure and chewing things up generally. We managed to get clear and stay afloat.

I got in wrong with the Army who claimed I stole a ship from them. A collier came in, and as the Navy was badly in need of coal, I refused to look at her manifest and sent her over to our repair ship Panther and began to coal her. The Army got wise and put up a yell, but it was too late and I got away with it. They say that if the trick is done again they will report it to Pershing. Let ’em go to it, as long as the Navy gets the coal when it needs it.

While the Corsair was driving through the blustering winds and seas of March, there came bright days now and then which were a harbinger of springtime in Brittany. In a letter written on Palm Sunday, Chief Quartermaster Farr depicted the following contrast with the grim routine of the war by sea and land:

I have had a delightful day. In the first place, the weather is like June and now it is moonlight and a dead calm is resting on the bay and I feel the joy of life and the beauty of Nature. This morning I went ashore to the Catholic church, and the entire population of the little Breton fishing town must have been there. Of course I couldn’t understand what was going on, but it was restful and soothing to say your prayers and think a little and listen to the organ. A Frenchman with a good voice sang “Hosanna, Glory to God,” and I prayed hard for the English armies in the great battle which is now raging. Their losses are heavy and I think of the terrible anxiety in England for their boys. Not that there is any doubt of the outcome, but so many brave men are dying, and when you read of the Ninth Division, say, as particularly distinguishing itself, you can imagine the feelings of the mothers of those men.