On a run one night in March (to La Pallice) after leaving a Verdon convoy, the Corsair and Aphrodite ran into a pretty stiff blow. We were doing about fourteen knots or better with the wind and sea a little on the port bow. A good-sized sea slapped into the port side forward, by the petty officers’ quarters, smashing in one of the deadlights of that compartment. The crash was tremendous. Everybody asleep down there woke up with visions of the ship torpedoed, and out of the hatch they boiled on the jump, mostly arrayed in the costume which Nature provides for sailors. All were dazed and excited. One of them no sooner hit the deck than a wave lifted our bow and he skidded aft, nearly half the length of the ship, on the seat of his trousers or where his trousers should have been. It was fortunate for that sailor that our executive officer kept the decks smooth and well-cared-for. The outfit couldn’t see the humor of the situation, being soaking wet and unable to dope out what had happened.
March 4th. The ship was a mad-house to-day. They told us there would be admiral’s inspection and we had to turn to on everything from the bilges to the crow’s-nest. Every stitch of clothing in our boxes had to be stowed somewhere. I was never so bored in my life. We sat around from noon to four o’clock waiting for the blinkin’ admiral, but, of course, he never showed up. These admiral’s inspections always give me a pain in the eye. We have made ready several times and it’s always a false alarm.
March 10th. The Aphrodite spotted a floating German mine and opened fire on it. She fired thirty-five shots and never hit it. We turned around and sunk it on the third shot. It did not explode, but filled with water and went down after a hole was put through it.
April 4th. Picked up our convoy consisting of the troop-ships Powhatan, Martha Washington, and El Occidente, all packed with Yankee soldiers. There are six destroyers with the escort, including the Caldwell, one of the new flush-deckers. At 1 P.M. the Occidente sighted a periscope. We at once started submarine tactics, screening the convoy while the Winslow and Sampson went back to look for the sub. They dropped eighteen depth charges. Fritz must have been shaken up some. He did not get a chance to shoot a torpedo, for the destroyers were too alert.
April 5th. Captain Porter left the ship, going back to America on leave. The rumor is that he will not return to this ship. It would certainly be a big loss to us, as he is one fine seaman and navigator as well as a splendid character of a man. We gave him three cheers when he shoved off, and it seemed to touch him considerably. He stood at salute in the boat until out of sight.
April 6th. This is the first anniversary of our entry into the war. In consequence, all the American vessels had to dress ship. We coaled all day and will finish to-morrow. In again, out again, coal again, Finnegan! The Martha Washington discharged her troops. They were cavalry and nigger infantry. They were held up for several hours and the darkies had us rocking all the time. They claimed they saw four submarines sunk the other day after being attacked by eleven or nine.
April 9th. I got in trouble to-day. In the storm last night an American ship came in and anchored four miles off. I was on signal watch and read her flag hoist as LDBC, the Rangely, and reported her as such. Discovered to-day that she was the LDQC or Graster Hall. I caught all the blame. The Q they had up was so terribly dirty that in the distance and bad light it could not be taken for anything else than a B. There was no alibi for me, however, and I don’t know whether the bawling out I got will be all of it or not. It was my mistake, an unavoidable one, but in war-time that makes no difference in this man’s navy.
May 10th. Captain Kittinger is to be transferred to command a big transport and Commander Porter is coming back to take this ship. I shall be glad to see Captain Porter, but we are mighty sorry to see Skipper “Bill” Kittinger go. The Wakiva dropped over one of the new 300-pound depth bombs and pretty near blew herself up. She busted several things in her engine-room.
May 22nd. Just as we came off watch at 4 A.M. in a dense fog we got an S.O.S. from our old friend, the Wakiva. She was rammed and sunk by the Wabash of her convoy. She went down rather deliberately and only two men were lost. We are sorry to cross her off the list, as she was a willing worker, although slow. At 8 P.M. we met the largest convoy of troop-ships that has come overseas. The first group of fourteen ships carried forty-five thousand soldiers, to say nothing of the naval crews aboard, and there were twelve destroyers in the escort. The second group of nine ships had twenty-five thousand troops. It was a great sight. They will be landed at Brest.
