CHAPTER NINETEEN
Farewell to the Highlands
The squadron’s task was not finished with the signing of the armistice, for some of the unused mines had to be carried back. Two weeks passed before orders came for home—all kinds of rumors were rife meanwhile, and the wait was the more trying because of the influenza quarantine against amusement resorts. This had its benefit, in that the Mine Force escaped the epidemic almost entirely, but with the season too far advanced and rainy for athletics and the Y.M.C.A. closed, the quarantine bore hard on the men afloat.
So long as the mines were on board, no relaxation of discipline could be permitted, and in order to keep the men well occupied, infantry and rifle practice were added to the ship drills, and formal inspections of ships were begun. The prospect of these inspections always keys things up. All ships did well, but the last one inspected, Roanoke, Captain Stearns, surpassed all expectation, being a model—judged by the highest standard—of efficient organization, training, and administration, pervaded by a uniformly high and loyal spirit.
One great test was to rig for getting the mines out in case of fire—though a forlorn hope at best, since 15 minutes (the time in which the mines would explode when exposed to fire) would scarcely suffice to begin discharging. The promise of Commander Beck, Roanoke’s executive officer, to be ready in 10 minutes was received by his colleagues with derision. When the test came, he stood quietly by, letting his men work without coaching. A flicker of patient resignation came over his face as he saw that some zealot had disabled one of the winches to be used by putting oil on the friction-clutch, because “it looked like bright work.” But in spite of the consequent delay, all was ready in only six minutes. “I thought I was some little executive myself,” said one colleague, “but I’ve got nothing more to say.”
Fortunately the quarantine was raised in time for full enjoyment of our last week in the Highlands. Our friends omitted nothing in hospitality and goodwill. Entertaining on board had been an extreme rarity during the minelaying, but now it could be permitted, and the squadron had the honor of a visit from The Mackintosh of Mackintosh, chief of Clan Chattan, colonel of the Cameron Highlanders, lord lieutenant of Invernesshire, who had been most hospitable to us. All the captains were assembled on board the San Francisco to receive him and afterwards to lunch with him. He inspected the crew and ship with Captain Butler, his first visit to an American man-of-war since 1870 in Gibraltar, on board the old Kearsarge. Chancing to ask a man’s name, the reply “Scott, sir,” made everything after that go smoothly.
On our national Thanksgiving Day, Rear Admiral Clinton-Baker sent a message to Rear Admiral Strauss, which, with the latter’s reply, expressed cordial satisfaction in working together and in the mutual regard and respect sprung up, which would help to bring the two great navies into still closer union. A theater party and reception at Invergordon and a formal dinner and ball at Inverness were given that day by British naval officers. The ball was held in the “Northern Meeting” rooms, the annual assembly place of all the Highland nobility and gentry. This was the first dance there since the war began, and it was a most enjoyable affair, picturesque with dress kilts and lively with the Highland fling. Next day the enlisted men were given a ball in the same place, which usually held 700, but on this occasion 1400. Next morning my orderly, Rose, could not wait for me to appear but woke me up to hear, “Commodore, the British treated us fine!”
On Saturday, the American officers gave a return ball, which was as well attended as we could desire, and so, at midnight, festivities ended.
Our sailing being set for Sunday midnight, there could be no gatherings at the actual departure, but just before noon Captain Rowley came out to the San Francisco with Mrs. Rowley and a small party, to say goodbye, and at Invergordon Rear Admiral Pears went on board the Roanoke, to use her radio telephone for his parting message to me. From late that afternoon until midnight the flagship’s signal bridge had no respite, farewell messages and replies continuing until we were clear of the harbor. All were the same tenor—appreciation of the work accomplished, “pleasant and friendly memory, goodbye and God speed.” The recollections taken away of beautiful country and kindly people could only make us wish to revisit them.
Among the last signals exchanged with the shore were: