Fog still lay close to the water on the morning of Monday, July 29th, as eager watch was kept for the new convoy. The transports had reached the danger line and the destroyers were not in sight.

Finally at 10 a. m. on the morning of the 29th, the first of the sub-chasers was sighted. It was not long before others appeared, bobbing up and down. The waves dashed high about the light craft and at times seemed to submerge the shells as they bore down upon the groups of transports. Eight sub-chasers appeared on the scene. A great shout went up from the transports as the convoy was sighted. They circled the transports and the last and most dangerous lap of the journey was started.

Thoughts strange and varied filled the minds of the majority aboard as they tossed in their bunks on the night of July 29th. Realization of location in the danger zone was keen. Those who were at ease sufficiently to sleep were annoyed and disturbed by the noises of whistles and signal horns as the ships and the convoy kept ever alert for submarines.

On the morning of July 30th the eight sub-chasers encircled the convoy party in closer proximity. The dash through the danger zone continued unmolested until 3 o'clock in the afternoon when the first real periscope was discovered by the look-outs.

The cruiser at the head of the convoy lurched forth; fired a shot and tossed up the waves in answer. The resonance against the steel sides of the transport rang out clear, bringing hundreds scampering out of the hatches and state rooms of the ship, on to the decks, to peer out over the rail and watch in awe the great drama that was being enacted in serious reality upon the waves of the ocean.

The sun was shining brightly. Every transport in the party struck out at full speed, while the zigzagging was increased in comparison. Eight sub-chasers cut the waves with frantic speed. The circle-convoy formation was abandoned. The destroyers cut short to make for the scene of action, which held forth and was witnessed to good advantage from the starboard side of the Morvada.

As the transports fled under full steam the cruiser and sub-chasers snorted and crashed and roared in the vicinity the periscopes had been discovered. Depth-bombs came into play. Those missiles of destruction were hurled from the destroyers as they combed the waves for miles and miles around the spot where danger threatened. Each discharge of depth-bomb raised an avalanche of water; the deadly bombs blasting the depths for great distances, while the reverberation shook the transports, creating the impression that the transport was in direct contact with each explosion.

For fully an hour the detonations continued as the depth-bombs were discharged. Finally the destroyers swept back and the convoy formation was resumed. The news was spread that the final result of the battle was success, as vouched for by films of oil the destroyers saw appear on the water's surface. General report had it that five submarines composed the attacking party and that wreckage and oil coming to the surface gave evidence of two having been destroyed.

The convoy continued on its journey. Sailing orders were executed in detail. It was 4 o'clock, one hour after the sub-battle, that the convoy parted, the various ships bound for different ports of debarkation, which were soon to loom in sight.

At 6 p. m. that same day the soldiers on board the Morvada sighted land. Throughout the night the ships sped on but land was dimly discernible, the rugged outline appearing through the shadows of the night, while the appearance of fishing smacks, which the transport passed without fear or sign, created the impression that friendly shores were near.