“I imagine all that is done under cover of darkness, when a landing can be made without drawing the fire of the enemy. With every light out one of these small dispatch boats can creep in close enough to send a boat-load ashore. Perhaps some of these transports that look as if they had come a long distance may be loaded with more Australian or New Zealand troops.”
“They’re coming from all over the world to take a hand in this fierce scrap, it seems,” suggested Amos. “Canadians, Hindoos, New Zealanders they call Kiwis and Australians known as Kangaroos, Algerians, Egyptians, Senegalese, and lots of others. It is a world war, sure enough, Jack.”
“Just stop and think of it for a minute,” urged Jack, shaking his head as the immensity of the titanic struggle struck him. “Besides Belgium, Germany, Japan, Great Britain, and France, there is Russia, with dozens of different tribes, and Austria with a patchwork lot of peoples. Then little Servia, and still smaller Montenegro are fighting. Italy is bound to get in the scrap at any day now, and before the end comes the Turk may find Rumania and Greece at his throat, eager to help kick him out of Europe.”
“No one knows yet what the end will be,” Amos continued in the same strain. “Even Holland, Denmark, Sweden, Norway and Switzerland may be dragged into the row. I only hope the good old United States is able to keep out of it, that’s all. We don’t want to fight the Germans if we can help it, because we think too much of them as a people.”
“We’ll never go in unless we are forced to,” declared Jack. “The only thing I’m afraid may get us there is this submarine warfare which Germany has started. They are torpedoing passenger steamers, and when some Americans are drowned Uncle Sam is apt to get riled, you know, and roll up his sleeves for business.”
They sat there chatting in this strain for some time. It was impossible to ever tire of the wonderful scene spread before them, with all those vessels that represented the vast sea power of Great Britain and France moving to and fro.
“Germany keeps her fleet shut up in the Kiel Canal all the time. What do you suppose their object is, Jack?” Amos asked after a while.
“They are waiting in hopes of crippling the British fleet by use of the submarines and mines,” he was told. “Already several old battleships have been lost out here, and others have been sunk closer at home. But I’ve been told that so many super-dreadnaughts have been finished since the war began that the British fleet is ever so much stronger today than early last August when the shadow of war fell across Europe.”
“All German commerce has been driven from the sea routes,” said Amos; “and what vessels have escaped capture are hiding in different friendly ports. Why, over in New York, you remember, we saw nearly a dozen splendid big steamers that haven’t earned a dollar since July last. And they daren’t go outside the harbor either.”
“For a pretty good reason, too,” chuckled the other. “Didn’t we see three British cruisers, stripped for action, hovering near by when we passed Sandy Hook lightship on our way out? They would soon riddle the biggest German vessel, and sink her, if there was any attempt made at getting out. The sea just at present doesn’t belong to the Kaiser.”