We fed up Fritz on hot coffee and sandwiches. Our method of handling prisoners is a bit different from the Huns. They were a pretty seedy lot, but once we had shelled out warm coats and heavy clothing to them, they perked up a bit and before long the crew began to sing. I listened to them, but somehow it made me sick. I had heard how they treat our men when they catch them—they don't get much chance to sing!
The German officers told us that the first depth charge had wrecked Fritz's machinery and caused him to sink to a considerable depth. If we did say so ourselves, we were pretty good shots!
There wasn't a mark on the submarine that gave her away, but the lifebelts did. We got her number. We proceeded to port and there turned our prisoners over under guard. We felt pretty cocky over it. Or rather the crew did who had had a real hand in capturing the Germans. I hadn't done anything. Why they mentioned me in the reports I don't know. I guess they didn't remember about a corps-man's job including the saving of life—I did, though. I told you I had studied hard!
FIREMAN SEYMOUR
SPEAKS:
FRITZ GETS TAGGED
I belong to the Black Gang. You don't hear much about us because our work keeps us below deck, and it's good hard work when you're making twenty knots—but I like it. I wouldn't change places with any gun's crew on earth, although they have more of a chance for their life if trouble comes. We have duties to perform right in our quarters in case a ship is struck that keeps us close to the engines—there's always danger there—especially aboard a coal-burning destroyer—and that's what I shipped on.