A Gunner Aboard the Yankee | Page 4

been picked out for the 'Yankee.' It was variously reported that she was to go to Havana, to Manila, to Porto Rico, and even to Spain. This last rumor brought shouts of laughter, and 'Stump,' as we termed him, a well-known young insurance broker of New York, remarked, in his characteristic way:
"It probably won't be this particular 'Yankee,' boys, that will go there, but there'll be others."
There was much cleaning of kits and furbishing of cutlasses. We knew that we would not take the latter with us, but then it was practice, and we felt anxious to do something martial as a relief to our excitement. There was a diversion shortly before noon, when the "old man" (the captain) appeared with a number of official-looking papers in his hands.
"He's got the orders," whispered little Potter, our latest recruit. "Whoop! we'll get away this morning, sure."
The whistle of the bosun's mate on watch echoed shrilly about the decks a few moments later.
"Now, d'ye hear there," he shouted, hoarsely, "you will break out mess gear and get yourselves ready for messing aboard ship."
That did not sound as if we were destined to see our new vessel put into commission very soon, and there was some grumbling, but the boys fell to work with good grace, and we were soon preparing for our stay aboard the old frigate. The officer of the deck was lenient, however, and the majority of the crew secured permission to sleep at home that night.
The following Monday, on reporting on board the "New Hampshire," we learned that the entire detail selected to man the "Yankee" would proceed to that ship shortly after eight bells. Word was passed that our enlistment papers--for we were to regularly enter Uncle Sam's naval service--would be made out, and that our freedom and liberty, as some of the boys put it, would cease from that hour. The latter statement made little impression. We had entered the Naval Reserves for business, if business was required, and we expected hardships as well as fun.
A navy-yard tug, sent by the Commandant, steamed alongside at two o'clock, and the company was marched on board without delay. The boys were eager to enter on this, their first real detail, and, in the rush to gain the deck of the tug, young Potter slipped from the rail and fell with a mighty splash into the water. "Man overboard!" bawled his nearest mate, and "Man overboard!" echoed one hundred and fifty voices. There was a scramble for the side, and the tug's deck hand, assisted by several of our fellows, fished Potter from the river with a boat hook.
"Hereafter, please ask permission before you leave the ship," facetiously remarked the officer in charge.
"Humph! as if I meant to do it," grunted Potter, wringing the East River from his duck shirt.
We caught our first view of the "Yankee" as we steamed past the cob dock at the yard. We were favorably impressed at once. She is a fine-looking ship, large, roomy, and comfortable, with lines which show that she is built for speed. As her record is twenty knots an hour, the latter promise is carried out. The "Yankee" was formerly the "El Norte," one of the Morgan Line's crack ships, and, when it was found necessary to increase the navy, she was purchased, together with other vessels of the same company, and ordered converted into an auxiliary cruiser. Gun mounts were placed in the cargo ports, beams strengthened, magazines inserted, and interior arrangements made to accommodate a large crew. The "Yankee's" tonnage is 4,695 tons; length, 408 feet; beam, 48 feet. The battery carried consists of ten five-inch quick-firing breechloaders, six six-pounders, and two Colt automatic guns. After events proved conclusively the efficiency of the "Yankee's" armament.
The detail was taken alongside the "Yankee" by the tug. We had our first meeting with our new captain, Commander W.H. Brownson, of the regular navy. His appearance and his kindly greeting bore out the reputation he holds in the service as a gentleman and a capable officer. It is well to say right here that Commander Brownson, although a strict disciplinarian, was ever fair and just in his treatment of the crew. Our pedigrees were taken for the enlistment papers, and the questions asked us in regard to our ages, occupations, etc., proved that the Government requires the family history of its fighters. The following day each man was subjected to a rigid physical examination. The latter ceremony is so thorough that a man needs to be perfect to have the honor of wearing the blue shirt. Personally, when I finally emerged from the examining room, I felt that my teeth were all wrong, my eyes crossed, my heart a wreck, and that I was not only a physical ruin, but a gibbering