CHIEF GUNNER BLAKE
SPEAKS:
SUNK BY SUBMARINE
Somewhere along in January, 1915, I shipped on the U. S. S. Utah. Always had a hankering after the sea, and then, to tell the truth, civilian jobs were pretty hard to land in 1915—you bet they were!
Once you're in the Navy you stay for a while. I liked it from the start. I got to know a thing or two about the guns, went to gunnery school; that's how I came to be made chief gunner's mate, I guess, and told to report for armed guard duty on May 29, 1917.
I drew an old tub. I suppose it had been used to carry a cargo of salt fish from Maine to Newfoundland, and here it was, painted fresh, and ready to cross the old Atlantic, which was fairly bristling with mines and lurking sea-devils.
We put to sea June 19th, and we reached the War Zone on July 3rd. I know what I'm doing, writing War Zone with capitals. You don't have to be told when you get there. You feel it in the air—it's like a wire vibrating; everyone's on edge, keyed up to G pitch.