The Delta of the Triple Elevens

by William Elmer Bachman

At 9:30 o'clock that morning the convoy maneuvered into battle formation with a U. S. cruiser leading the convoy while four small sub chasers circled about in high speed and an army dirigible flew overhead. Each ship was directed in a zig zag course, a new angle of the zig zag being pointed every few minutes, a course of propellation that continued the entire route of the water way.

Good-byes were waved from ships stationed along the several miles of water course that marked the harbor's length, until the open Atlantic was reached, then the sub chasers and the dirigible turned about, leaving the seventeen transports and supply ships under the wing of the battle cruiser that proceeded to pick out the course across the ocean, to where bound no one on board, save the captain of the ship, knew.

Clad in their life preservers the soldiers idled about the decks as the convoy sped on. It was a source of delight to stand at the deck rail and watch the waves dash against the steel clad sides of the ship. On several occasions when the waves rolled high, many on board experienced the sensation of a sea bath, the stiff sea breeze carrying the seething foam high over the rail on to the deck.

To see the waves roll high created the impression of mightiness of creation; the impression of mountains rising magic like at the side of the vessel. Suddenly the ship rises to the crest of the wave and the recedence leaves one looking down into what appears like a deep cavern.

When the sun was rising in the direction one was thrilled by the beauties of the rainbow observed in the clearness of the waves, when, at the height of dashing resplendence the surging sprays descend in fountain semblance, drinking in, as it were, the very beauty of God's handiwork.

The same position on deck the boys found none the less attractive when the shades of night had fallen. On one of the first nights out the ship passed through an atmosphere of dense fog, suddenly to emerge into elements of star lit splendor, the moon, in full radiance, casting a silvery luminous path on the sparkling waves. It was a phenomena worthy of the tallest submarine risks to witness. The full moon and the very repleteness of things aesthetic gave opportunity for those who were able to portray an attitude of indifference, to tell gravely how the radiance of the night fully exposed the convoy to the U-boats that were lurking in every wave.

Established routine of transport duties and formations was continued during the ocean voyage. Ship-abandon and fire drills were a daily feature of life aboard. Each outfit had a specific place to congregate when the signal for ship-abandon drill was sounded. All that was necessary was to stand at the appointed place while the coolies, comprising the crew, scampered to the life-boats and made miniature attempts at hacking the ropes and dropping to the waves.

The promenade deck, both port and starboard sides, was in use each day accommodating group after group for half-hour periods of physical exercise. The tossing of the vessel lent itself in rhythm to the enjoyment of the calisthenics, or else it was physical exercise enough in trying to maintain an equilibrium while the arms and legs were raised alternately in eight counts.

Guard duty was firmly established on board. A guard roster numbered more men than a guard detail at Camp Meade ever required. The significance of the precise guard forms another of the mysteries of Battery D. No one went A. W. O. L. while enroute and when it came to challenging after taps, a sentry in most cases could not be greeted by the customary answer, "a friend," although the challenged party was a friend indeed, also a friend in need. How could he answer when he had his hand over his mouth and his primary object was to get to the rail quick. After several days out, however, a majority of the boys "got their sea legs," as evinced by the mess line three times daily.

A schedule of formations, similar to Camp Meade routine, was promulgated on board. Reveille was set for 7 o'clock each morning. When the time came to assemble on deck the space was so small and the crowd was so large that many a recruit slept-in until the last mess line was treading the beat. Reform measures were instituted and extra duty lists published, offenders being added to the regular details that were selected to daily wash up the deck and clean up the hatch.