THE TRIM, IMMACULATE NAVY MAN. AFTER COALING SHIP
About this time the depth charges washed overboard and I can tell you that the “Sparks” on board the Corsair were sure they were up against a big proposition. Here we were, with the entire receiver swimming in water, the transmitting panel splashed with it, the motor generator submerged most of the time, our lead-in insulator and lead-in frequently grounded by the huge waves which swept clear over us, and yet facing a probable order from the skipper to send out a distress call. We were all soaked to the skin, impossible to brew any Java to warm us up, and all the time working hard to get the apparatus back into shape.
I gave up the receiver as hopeless and tried to clear the grounds on the motor generator while the rest of the gang tried to bale out the water, but the ocean came in faster than they could scoop it out. However, we managed to keep the water below the level of the commutator and the collector rings of the motor generator, and after clearing some of the worst grounds, during which the toilers were most beautifully “jolted,” we gave the transmitter a short test and it worked fairly well, considering the circumstances. Then I made my way up to the boat deck and between seas managed to clean a layer of salt off the lead-in insulator and gave it a heavy coat of oil.
Plummer and the rest of the gang were drying the various switches and other parts of the transmitter and we managed to fix things so that an S.O.S. could have been sent out. And all hands thought it was about time to shoot it. The deck force succeeded in nailing up some doors and canvas along the weather side of the radio-room, which was all that prevented it from being smashed in. If our bulkheads had gone there would have been no chance of keeping the transmitter in working condition.
When we found refuge at Vigo, a survey of the damage was made. The radio-room was simply a mess, like the rest of the ship, but within eight hours we had the entire installation restored to the best of health and ready for any emergency. Considering the fact that the radio-room had been flooded with sea water for two and a half days, we flattered ourselves that it was mighty speedy work.
During the long stay at Lisbon for repairs, we made a thorough overhauling of the radio equipment but had no traffic to handle excepting the press news from the Eiffel Tower which we copied for the crew and for the American Legation. Our visit at Lisbon will always be remembered as a very happy one. The people were most hospitable and seemed to enjoy entertaining the bluejackets. The radio-room was still in communication with Brest, 850 miles distant, but there was no occasion for talking with the base station.
The work of the radio force while on escort duty, after we returned to France, was much like that of the earlier cruises. It made us proud to receive a letter of commendation from Admiral Wilson for forwarding a message intercepted from the Seattle. I was sorry when, for a time, I was transferred to shore duty with the District Commander at Cherbourg and had to leave the radio-room of the Corsair. Plummer, my right-hand man, was left in charge of the situation. Shortly before the yacht sailed to the United States, I was lucky enough to make a little visit aboard. Nothing would have pleased me more than a chance to make the homeward bound voyage with the old crowd.
When the Corsair went to France, she had as fine a crew of men as were ever assembled on a deck. The radio force, with whom I worked and lived, got on splendidly together and made a record of successful operation which, I feel sure, compared favorably with that of any other naval vessel engaged in similar duties and laboring under the same kind of difficulties.