A permanent submarine guard was detailed, the members of this detail landing state rooms for the journey; living next door to the officers. During the trip this guard sighted several score of "subs" but generally their "object port-bow" proved to be a keg that had become prohibition and therefore found itself abandoned in mid-ocean.

Outside of bunk inspection, medical inspection, feet inspection, several kinds of arm inspection, with details, drill formations and exercise periods, the life of the American soldier aboard a transport was an idle one. The ship's canteen did a big business during office hours. A world's series bleacher crowd had nothing on the canteen line of the Morvada. A place in the line commanded a high premium, which led to speculation in canteen supplies.

The afternoon of July 21st was attendant by a high wind, making it very cool on deck, while the wind lashed the waves with great fury. The cold wind blew all day July 22nd, the day when the first wireless reports were posted on board, telling of the Germans being driven over the Marne and thousands of prisoners captured.

The sea became calm on Tuesday, July 23rd, the gale having died down. The ship was traveling East and each morning watches had to be readjusted to correspond to the change in longitude.

At 3 a. m. on the third morning out a great commotion was occasioned on board. Everybody was awakened by a loud rumbling. A majority thought a submarine had been encountered. Several dashed up the steps of the hatchway to be ready for action. Someone shouted, "Don't get excited, but make room for me to get out first." Later it was ascertained that the noise was caused by the ships' anchor slipping several rods of anchor chain.

The first taste of real excitement was occasioned at 1 o'clock on the afternoon of July 25th when a strange craft was sighted on the distant horizon. The cruiser of the convoy was all action immediately. Warning flashed to all the convoy party and a wild series of zigzagging ensued while the cruiser chased pell-mell in the direction of the sighted craft. A shot was fired from the cruiser in the dash, but only a mountain of water was blasted by the discharge.

The convoy continued Eastward while the cruiser investigated. Finally the cruiser returned to the convoy and reported everything O. K. The troops never learned the official identity of the strange vessel that sent the first sub-chasers up the vertebrae of many.

Word was passed about on Saturday, July 27th, that the convoy was approaching the imaginary line in the ocean that Germany had established as the dead-line, past which her U-boats were operating in unrestricted warfare. The approach of the danger zone was the signal for all on board to remove no article of clothing while asleep at night and to carry a canteen of fresh water strapped to the belt at all times. In this manner everybody was prepared to take to the waves at a minute's sub-warning.

As the journey continued the officers of Battery D instituted a series of battery lectures, also took up plans for the organization of a permanent battery commander's detail.

Sunday, July 28th, found the sea calm in the morning, but a strong gale set in at noon, followed by a heavy rain during the afternoon. A dense fog enveloped the convoy. Fog horns came into play and it was a miserable night aboard for everybody. Standing at the deck rail one could not pierce the fog, although it was known that within a short radius all the other ships of the convoy were groping their way through the darkness; each creeping as a black monster through the gloomy night, depending upon the fog-horn to keep aloof from their sister convoy ships; a sense of loneliness enshrouded the scene. It was a wild night for the timid with sub-scares, especially when the information leaked out that the sub-chasers which were scheduled to meet the convoy and escort it through the danger zone, were overdue and still missing.