“Surest thing you know, old scout!” Martin laughed. “They made me a gunner’s mate, third class. Don’t ask me why, though. See that you treat me properly after this. Now tell me the whole yarn, Troy. What’s happened to you since I saw you last? Did you see me that day on the river? Where’s your friend Mason?”
“Mason? Oh, you mean Masters. Billy’s still on the Wanderer, I think. I’d be there yet, too, if it hadn’t been for a piece of luck.” Whereupon Nelson told of his meeting on the train with the Navy official and his transfer to the Gyandotte. And that led to the battle off Bermuda with the Mahlow. Martin had to have full details of that encounter and was disappointed by the colossal ignorance displayed by the narrator. “You see,” explained Nelson, “you don’t have much chance to watch things, Townsend, on a gun crew. You have your hands pretty full and you can’t see much, anyhow. At least, you can’t if you’re shellman, because you’re behind the gun all the time. Most of what I know about that row came from hearing the other fellows talk afterwards.”
“It must have been great!” sighed Martin. “Wish I’d been there. Still, I wouldn’t have had much fun, I guess, since you didn’t try torpedoes on the Hun. Does the Gyandotte carry tubes?”
“No. How long have you been on this boat?”
“Three weeks. A little over. She’s a dandy, isn’t she? Have you been over her? Like to look around?”
“Yes, indeed,” responded the other eagerly. “Lieutenant Somebody—the one with the gruff voice—told a man named Clancy to take me in charge, and Clancy told me to report to him in the engine room. Maybe I’d better, eh?”
“Clancy?” laughed the other. “He’s a fine lad to have charge of anyone! Come on in here and we’ll see him.”
The engine room was the next compartment aft, and they found Clancy alone there engaged in polishing the bright work of the port engine, although so far as Nelson could see every inch of brass or copper or steel was already immaculate.
Clancy’s willingness to be relieved of his responsibility was so patent as to be almost impolite, and the two boys went on to the after compartment. Here were the main motors and the auxiliary machinery of all kinds. Two men were in charge there, a petty officer and an oiler. The low hum of the motors and the faint, slow churn of the twin propellers alone broke the silence. Martin explained the mechanism that was driving the steel cylinder through the depths, once or twice calling on the electrician for aid. On the surface, Nelson learned, it was the big Diesel oil-burning engines that supplied the power, but, since they depended on a large amount of air for their performance, it was not possible to use them when submerged. When ready to sink the Diesels were stopped and uncoupled from the shafts and the motors started. These obtained their energy from storage batteries located beneath the deck on which they stood. The petty officer in charge explained the working of the contractor gear by which the control of the motors is effected in the central station. The main motors compartment, like every other section of the submarine, was painted white and was as clean as a Dutch kitchen. The electric bulbs flooded the place with light. The arching sides were crowded with switchboards and hung with a confusion of cables and wires.