The Brighton Boys with the Submarine Fleet | Page 8

of Fourth of July skyrockets. The
crew had pet names for their guns. The forecastle gun was nicknamed
"Roosey" for Colonel Roosevelt, the gun aft was dubbed "Big Bob" in
honor of "Fighting Bob" Evans of Spanish-American War fame, while
the anti-aircraft guns became "the Twins."
"Hope we get a shot at a zepp some day soon with one of the Twins,"
sighed Jack one afternoon after the gun crew had finished peppering to
pieces a number of kites that had been raised as targets.
"Yes, and I hope we get that shot at the zepp before the zepp gets one at
us," replied Ted, as he recalled the stories he had read of the
submarines being visible while yet under water to aircraft directly
overhead, and thus being a ready target for a sky gunner.
Coming in the next afternoon from a run to shake down the engines, the
boys on the Dewey found the navy yard in the vicinity of the submarine
fleet moorings in a commotion. Motor trucks were depositing piles of
goods near the piers which were being lightered to some units of the
submarine fleet in motor launches. Officers were hurrying to and fro
between their vessels and the shore and there was a general air of
suspense that seemed to indicate early action of some kind.

The Dewey was wigwagged to take up a position near the other
undersea craft that were being provisioned and fueled, and very soon
supplies were coming aboard.
"Looks like we are going away from here," suggested Ted to his sailor
comrade.
"It's a guess I've been making myself," answered Jack.
Their surmises were all too true, for very soon Commander McClure,
who had been ashore for some hours now while the businesslike
preparations were in progress, came alongside in the launch of the
commandant of the yard and called his staff of officers into executive
conference down in the officers' quarters. The news spread quickly
through the Dewey as though by magic, that the submarine was due to
get away during the night under sealed orders. A few minutes later Bill
Witt confirmed the news. He was on night watch and had heard it from
the officer of the deck.
Under sealed orders! Where and what!

CHAPTER IV
SOMEWHERE IN THE NORTH SEA
The Dewey was off! Shortly after midnight the little craft got under
way, with her nose pointed out of the harbor.
"I guess it's 'so long U.S.A.' this time," confided Jack to his chum, as
they stood together, aft the conning tower.
"Gee, I'm glad we're off!" answered Ted. "I only hope we are going
over there with the rest of the boys."
Although they had yet to learn officially their destination, the Brighton
boys, together with other members of the crew of the Dewey, took it for
granted they now were on their way to Europe to join the great

American fleet and battle with the Imperial German Navy for the
mastery of the sea. It had been noised about ever since their enlistment
that Uncle Sam's submarine fleet was soon to be sent abroad.
"Going to fight the U-boat snakes with made-in-America snakes!" was
the way Bill Witt had sized up, the situation one evening when he and
the Brighton recruits had been discussing the likelihood of their getting
out on the firing line at an early date.
Jovial Bill Witt had proved such a capital good fellow that Jack and
Ted had taken a great liking to him. The three boys were great pals by
this time and were always together in their leisure moments.
Temperamental Jean Cartier, the smiling little Frenchman who had
shipped aboard the Dewey as chief commissary steward, very often
joined their circle and spun the boys stories of that dear France and his
home near Marseilles.
To-night it was different. There was no levity. Every man seemed to
sense the situation and stood to his post of duty grimly conscious of the
serious business upon which he had embarked. Through the minds of
the lads flitted visions of home and campus.
Jack, dreaming of good old Brighton, was stirred out of his reverie by
his chum.
"Do you suppose we will go all the way over under our own power, or
will we be towed?" Ted was asking.
"Haven't the least doubt but that we'll stand on our own sea legs,"
replied Jack. "Don't you remember how we read in the papers early in
the war of a bunch of submarines put together in the St. Lawrence
River going all the way across to Gibraltar and thence through the
Mediterranean to the Dardanelles under their own power?"
Ted did remember, now that it had been called to his mind. It had
gripped their imagination at the time; it