“But it may be everybody’s business if they don’t get it; and that’s what I am thinking about.” The difficulty was solved in this way. The men were marched to the room, and ate standing in line or at long tables. As fast as one batch was fed, another took its place. By the time breakfast was over, lunch began. It was a sort of endless chain made up of men, moving on schedule time.
Men began to growl—growling is a soldier’s safety valve, and his privilege ever since soldiering first began.
“Sure,” said Pat Quinn, “it’s ating tactics we are being drilled in. Ye’s open ye’s mouths so many toimes and then swallow—one toime and three motions!”
“What are you growling about?” said Private Shaw. “There’ll likely be another motion on this ship soon, so that you can’t swallow at all!”
So with rough jokes and gibes we ate our first breakfast on board ship. Then ship drill began. Each man was assigned to a boat or raft, and we learned the ship calls. When the bugle sounded “Assembly” every man was to go on deck and take his place at his boat or raft. At “Abandon Ship,” the boats and rafts were supposed to be got into the water. “Quarters” meant every man below, to his bunk.
We go through the motions—only—of getting the boats and rafts over the side of the ship. When our instructor said that a raft was safer than a boat, but that we were never to climb onto one, but hang on with both hands, we were skeptical about it.
“He wants to keep a boat for himself,” said Sam. “That is what he is preaching it for.”
We knew, however, that the safety of all on board might depend upon our efficiency at this drill.
With boat drill—mornings and afternoons—scrubbing decks, eating, and seasickness, our time was pretty fully occupied. I was dreadfully sick for a time, and did not care whether a submarine sunk us or not, but got over it before long. It was very close below decks, where we were mostly confined, and a hardship to those accustomed to the free air.
Our company was so fortunate as to be detailed as extra deck watch, and a group of us were on duty at all hours, day and night. It was an autocratic job—we were “It.” We could refuse to take orders or answer questions from even the colonel! Our post for this duty was a little box of a pen where, with fine binoculars, we kept watch for submarines. I liked the duty; it was a change and much like guard duty.