The Corsair in the war zone

by Ralph Delahaye Paine

Instead of a few American naval officers ashore in Brest, there were scores of them from transports, supply ships, and the escort divisions. Their social headquarters, which had become almost indispensable, was the spacious building of the American Naval Officers’ Club on the Place du Château, conveniently near the water-front. The club had been organized in September, 1917, by a group of naval officers among whom Lieutenant Robert E. Tod, of the Corsair, was the most active in promoting its interests and making it successful. Captain Fletcher, later a rear admiral, was the first president and was succeeded by Admiral Wilson when he arrived in November. Lieutenant Milton Andrews served as secretary, and a board of directors administered the affairs of the club whose membership was strictly naval.

The comfortable French mansion was well furnished and equipped, with a restaurant, reading-room, billiard-room, and bedrooms, and during 1918 there were more than six hundred members who enjoyed this haven when they came in weary of the sea. The name was changed to the Naval Officers’ Mess, as more appropriate. The club-house had been purchased by Lieutenant Tod personally, in order to facilitate matters, and when the war was over and the naval fleet was homeward bound, he presented the building to the French Government as a permanent club for the officers of the Allied naval services. All members of the Naval Officers’ Mess were to retain their connection in this new organization which is called “The Cercle Naval.”

Here the officers of the Corsair foregathered when they returned from Lisbon, to catch up with the gossip of their trade. They found the club filled with new members and visitors, the Regular Navy enjoying reunions and swapping yarns of bygone cruises on the China station or in the Mediterranean, or of service in the Spanish War when these sedate captains and rear admirals had been flighty youngsters or consequential two-stripers. The captain of a huge transport fetching in ten thousand doughboys sat in a corner with the skipper of a little “fish boat” from Gloucester which was trawling for German mines in the channels of the Gironde or the Loire. The officers of the Reserve Force met college chums or formed new friendships and compared notes on the ways and means of scuppering Fritz.

Admiral Wilson had perceived that with more escort vessels at his command and an increasing force promised, he could gain efficiency by distributing his ships at several bases along the French coast, from Brest to Bordeaux, under district commanders. This would enable him to give better protection and to move the convoys more rapidly as they went in and out of the other ports of American entry. In accordance with this plan, the Corsair was detached from the Brest force and ordered to make her headquarters on the river Gironde below Bordeaux. The area was in the patrol district of Rochefort which was in charge of Captain Newton A. McCully, U.S.N., who was later made a rear admiral. The Corsair found it highly satisfactory to operate under this capable and energetic officer who made two cruises in the yacht, in March, when she went out to meet laden troop convoys and escorted them in to France. The coöperating French naval force was directed from the station ship Marthe Solange which was anchored at Verdon on the Gironde.

After coaling ship at Brest, the Corsair started for her new base on January 31st, escorting several supply ships which were bound for Bordeaux and loaded with aeroplane equipment and munitions. How rumor flew about and was eagerly, solemnly discussed is indicated in these bits from a sailor’s diary:

January 31st. Hauled out of Brest with our convoy at three in the morning, proceeding at nine knots. At Quiberon we picked up the rest of them and headed for Bordeaux, the destroyers Warrington and Monaghan with us. I understand that we are not to go all the way up to Bordeaux, but will base at our own Navy aviation camp some thirty miles down the river. Hear they will work us to death. Hope we will have a chance to run up and see the city.

February 1st. Steamed up the river and stopped at aviation camp at Pauillac. Incidentally there are a thousand sailors here and not one flying machine. About five hundred Austrian prisoners and six hundred Germans are helping build the camp. Got Bordeaux liberty and arrived there after dark. The city is under military law and there are all sorts of fussy Army rules and regulations. We went to fourteen hotels before we found a place to sleep. We couldn’t see the town, as it was in darkness. Everybody has to be off the streets at 10.30 P.M. The only criticism I have to make of the town is that there are altogether too many soldiers in it.

February 4th. Got another liberty to-day. Heard some big news. The America, on her way over here and loaded with troops, was torpedoed. She was not seriously damaged and by dropping depth mines brought the German submarine to the surface. The officers and crew were captured alive and have been carried into Brest, along with the submarine. Also, a few days ago a U-boat came up and surrendered to the Dixie, the crew having killed the captain. The submarine was absolutely out of provisions and supplies and the men were in bad shape. This is a fine omen. (Note:—I later discovered that these stories are untrue.)

February 6th. More big news. A German submarine came into Brest harbor flying a white flag, and surrendered. We have her at a mooring buoy all intact and fit for sea. They had run out of fuel oil and grub and were fed up with the service. There wasn’t a chance of getting back to Germany with the boat, so she sensibly gave herself up. I hope they are all in the same rotten bad shape. (Note:—This story of the submarine surrendering at Brest is found to be all bunk.)

The yachts Wakiva and May now joined the Corsair for escort duty and the Aphrodite and Nokomis were added to the division force a little later. In addition to the orders received from the American commander of the naval district, the most explicit instructions came from the French senior officer of the “Division des Patrouille de Gascogne.” With the courtesy to be expected of him, he sent also a translation in order to save trouble for his comrades of the American Navy. At times the English phrasing had a Gallic twist, not enough to perplex the Corsair whose officers had become adepts at the French nautical lingo, but the effect was a trifle confusing to the eye of a layman, as for instance: