Though we were exceedingly glad, there was a good deal of quiet thinking going on.
One and all realized that we had been exposed to no ordinary dangers. Danger from the enemy's fire; danger from a deadly climate; danger from the effects of unaccustomed labor; danger from wind and raging sea. We had been brought through safe and sound by an all-wise God to lead peaceful, useful, and, it is hoped, helpful lives at home.
This same thought had been in our minds many times before, and with the feeling of thankfulness would come a sense of surprise that we should pass through it all without harm.
We sped on and on, the ship's prow ever pointed North. We watched the water to note the change in color; to see when the blue water of the Gulf Stream should be left behind and the green northern sea should be entered.
As we neared New York our impatience grew with every added mile, and this eagerness was felt by officers as well as men.
We sometimes forgot that our officers were capable of feeling disappointment, impatience, and joy; that they also had to stand watch and get along on short allowance of sleep; that they, too, were subject to annoyances as well as we. If we had not felt this before, we fully realized, now, how much our officers had done for us.
Lieutenants Duncan, Greene, and Barnard, Dr. McGowan, Ensigns Dimock and Andrews, always treated us fairly and honestly.
Every man has a deep-seated feeling of loyalty and affection for them that will last as long as life shall last.
As the tropical latitudes were left astern the nights became cool, and the watch on deck had the novel experience of walking post in pea coats. Shortly after daybreak on the twenty-seventh of August the Atlantic Highlands were sighted, and, to quote one of the forecastle men, "All hands shouted to see God's country once more!"
Though we had seen the Highlands, Sandy Hook, and all the familiar landmarks of the harbor many times, never had they seemed so attractive.