Told by Fred B. Pitney, by Authority of the French Minister of Marine
This story is told from "a certain formidable naval base on the coast of France." The American who relates it went out on scout duty on a submarine—for a single day. He tells how it feels to dive, the sensation of being shot at—not "unpleasant or trying on the nerves." Mr. Pitney is one of the war correspondents for the New York Tribune.
I—"WE FIRED NINE SHOTS AND SUNK BENEATH THE SEA"
To appear on the surface, fire nine shots at an enemy vessel and disappear in safety, untouched, below the surface, all in the space of forty-five seconds—this, I believe, constitutes a submarine record. Yet, this feat I witnessed as an observer on board a French submarine in active service.
Before this I was a passenger on a vessel that was attacked by a submarine. A torpedo was launched at us from below the surface, while we were anxiously trying to pick up the periscope of the submerged vessel, for we were in dangerous waters. We had just discovered the periscope when the torpedo was sent at us. Five minutes later the submarine came to the surface and fired a round at us from the gun abaft the turret we lay to and the passengers were transferred in a small boat from the passenger vessel to the submarine. It was then that I was on board the submarine while it attacked another vessel.
Thus, on the afternoon in question I participated in all the phases of submarine warfare, including entering a harbor protected with net and floating mines, filled with warships and surrounded with land batteries. Possibly the most exciting moment of all in an afternoon filled with thrills was when one land battery, uncertain of our identity, fired three shots across our bows and we had to lie to and prove who we were with a string of signal flags before we could proceed on our tortuous path among the mines.
Our little vessel, put at our disposal by the French Ministry of Marine to view the defences of a certain formidable naval base on the coast of France, was calmly traversing the waters near the mouth of the harbor, when a young officer, standing beside me on the bridge said: "We must look out for submarines near here."
"Germans?" I asked.
"Oh, yes," he replied, "Germans, of course."
We had already passed through the net that protects the mouth of the harbor and had been warned that we were going through a mine field, and that sometimes, especially in bad weather, the mines got loose and drifted about casually, getting in most anybody's way. Now we had the added pleasure of a possible encounter with a German submarine.