We were passing through the Gulf Stream and the weather remained clear and fairly warm. A private in Co. H, 163rd Regt., was placed in the brig for safekeeping, at the request of the brigade commander, demonstrating that the soldiers on board were subject to the same discipline as were the crew. Not long after this a member of the crew was disciplined for failing to wear his life-jacket.
The good weather did not remain with us very long, for on the 22nd the wind picked up to 65 miles an hour. We were rapidly approaching the war-zone and the men were continually cautioned not to neglect wearing their life-preservers at all times, day and night, not to undress upon turning in, and never to strike a match on the open deck at night. In fact, it was contrary to ship regulations for an enlisted man to carry any matches at all about his person. It is a fact that the glare of a lighted match or cigarette is visible for half a mile on the open sea at night and guards vigilantly patrolled the outer decks in order to prevent any neglect along this line.
About midnight, while running close to the danger zone, the wire controlling the siren contracted, due to the extreme cold weather, and like a bolt out of a clear sky, the siren went off automatically. The siren is used only in case of emergency, to notify all hands on board of some impending danger, and going off accidentally as it did caused quite some excitement on board, especially in the case of the Red Cross nurses. Many of the latter had been quite seasick the greater part of the trip, but the excitement tended to relieve them somewhat. After some difficulty the trouble was remedied.
At 4 A. M., the morning of the 23rd, in a treacherous sea, our convoy of American destroyers, the famous submarine annoyers, were picked up. It is hard for one to describe the feeling and excitement of picking up a convoy of destroyers at night and we believe that it is quite impossible for the reader to understand how much it means to 10,000 souls on a ship in the danger zone when the word is passed that destroyers are with us. On the morning of December 23rd, at 4 A. M., out of the black sky just before dawn and in a heavy sea with a strong wind blowing, a small white wake was seen by the lookout on the bridge. At first it was taken for the wake of a periscope and the gun crews were called to quarters, then as the guns were trained on it, a small white flash was seen blinking the American recognition signal, and we then knew that it was one of our destroyers. We picked them up out of the black sky and a heavy sea until there were seven little wasps that spelled danger to the Hun submarine. They sped along with us while we zigzagged in and out on our course. They crossed our bow and ran in and far out on each side of us, always looking for the sub that might be lying in wait for us. Their motto was “go get ’em.” They never waited for a sub to attack first, they always started the fight provided that “Fritz” was willing to show himself and we want to say right here that he was very reluctant to do so when an American destroyer showed itself.
It was difficult to carry on signal communication with the destroyers in a heavy sea; they were submerged in the trough so that their slender masts looked like periscopes.
The Outer Guard
A tribute to the Destroyers by John Oxenham
Bold watchers of the deep,
Guards of the Greater Ways,