The Corsair was in company with the yachts Wakiva and Alcedo, and promptly signalled them to disregard her movements as she was going in search of survivors. Shortly after noon, the wreck of a schooner was sighted, the hull awash, and many barrels of oil floating near it. The Corsair’s gunners fired seven shots into the derelict, but were unable to sink it and the yacht hastened on her errand of mercy, guided by the squared areas of the secret chart to which the radio message had referred. Three hours later the first boat was found, a dory four men from the French fishing bark, Saint Pierre, which had been set on fire by a boarding party from a U-boat one hundred and eighty miles off Ushant.
The mate, who was one of those rescued, swore that after the crew of the Saint Pierre had scrambled into the boats two more large submarines appeared, and that all three of these infernal sea monsters had made a circuit of the hapless bark before destroying her. It was also his belief that each submarine was very formidable, at least a hundred metres in length and mounting two large cannon.
The crew of the Corsair cheered at the tidings while they sympathized with the forlorn fishermen. “The U-boats were coming in bunches,” joyously reflected the deck force, and the “black gang” slung the coal with an earnest determination to give her twenty knots or blow the boilers out of her. The ship raced to scan the sea for the other boats of the Saint Pierre and at 4.35 P.M. heard firing in the direction of a tall barkentine whose sails gleamed seven miles to the northward. Here was a second fisherman in trouble and a U-boat actually shelling her within sight of the U.S.S. Corsair! Ten minutes more, with speed worked up to eighteen knots, and the submarine could be clearly recognized through the binoculars aimed from bridge and crow’s-nest.
Etched very small against the horizon was the deck, like a fine, black line, and the conning tower as a tiny hump in the middle, while a gun winked as a red spark, and the water splashed high near the target of a sailing vessel and was visible as so many white specks resembling dabs of cotton. The Corsair was then four miles distant, too far to use her own guns effectively. The submarine delayed five minutes longer, rolling on the surface and using her battery in order to sink the fisherman without wasting a precious torpedo on a victim so unimportant. Then the cruel U-boat filled her ballast tanks and submerged as a whale sounds when alarmed. Sighs from the Corsair’s decks were mingled with the deep and hearty curses of the saltwater vocabulary. The commander expurgated his report when it came to writing it, and this was his unadorned narrative:
Shortly after this, six dories were observed pulling away from the vessel. At 5.08 we came up and found her to be the French barkentine, Eugene Louise, from the Grand Banks to Saint-Malo. Searched for whereabouts of the enemy. A long wake was observed. Ran the ship into this wake and at 5.16, at the place where it disappeared, let go an English depth charge, 120 pounds TNT. Circled around and passed close to survivors’ boats and asked them the location of the enemy. They were so badly demoralized that they could give no intelligible replies and pointed generally to the westward. Search was continued and at 5.34 returned and picked up the survivors, the entire crew of the Eugene Louise.
At 5.45 we started ahead at eighteen knots. The first estimate made of the damage to the Eugene Louise was that her bob-stays had been carried away and that her topmasts and topgallant-masts would probably come down. At this time she was hove to with all square sails aback. The fore-staysails and jib halliards having been let go, the sails were halfway down the stays. Approaching closer to make a careful inspection, we found that what appeared to be the bob-stays were a couple of rope-ends hanging from the dolphin striker to the water.
Attempts were made to persuade the crew to return to the Eugene Louise and bring her in. The captain consented on condition that the Corsair should escort him. He was assured that the Corsair would stand by. After conferring with his crew he asked that one of the ship’s officers would confirm this assurance in person. The Gunnery Officer, Ensign Schanze, gave this assurance to the crew in their own language. A long talk ensued among the Frenchmen of the Eugene Louise. The indications were that they had no intention of boarding their ship again.
FRENCH FISHERMEN WHO WERE SET ADRIFT
