Kitabı oku: «Two Boys of the Battleship: or, For the Honor of Uncle Sam», sayfa 4
CHAPTER X – IN BARRACKS
“Over this way,” directed the petty officer as he led the squad of recruits into the well-kept grounds, Ned and Frank following the others, and, like them, looking curiously about.
“What are those buildings?” asked one of the young fellows, pointing to a row of buildings, at the upper windows of which could be seen a number of faces of men and youths in blue uniforms.
“The barracks – where you sleep,” replied the petty officer.
“Sleep in barracks!” cried one. “Why, I thought we’d be put on board a battleship! That’s what I enlisted for. I can sleep on land in a building, any night.”
The petty officer smiled. Doubtless he was used to hearing that.
“You’ll only sleep in barracks while you’re training here,” he answered. “You have to be shown something about a battleship and other naval matters before you’re qualified to go on board. Don’t worry, you’ll have all the sleeping aboard a ship that you want. It will all come in time.”
“That’s good news,” said Ned to Frank.
“Oh, I knew this was only temporary,” was the answer.
“It takes about four months,” the petty officer said, overhearing Frank’s remark.
“Thank you.”
A little later the two brothers, as well as the other recruits, were led into the presence of the medical officer and his assistants.
“Strip!” came the order, and soon the rigorous examination was under way.
Ned and Frank need have had no fears, for they were very promptly passed. Some of their mates, however, did not fare so well, and one or two were rejected, having to leave the prospective service, much to their regret. But our heroes were found physically fit, and, having previously taken the oath of allegiance to the United States, they were now fully qualified and admitted apprentice seamen.
“That’s all,” the medical officer said to them, as he motioned to them to dress. Once more they were taken in charge by a petty officer, a different one this time.
“What’s next?” asked Frank.
“You’ll have your clothing assigned to you, and will learn how to swing your hammocks,” was the answer.
“Are we going to sleep in hammocks while we’re ashore, in the barracks?” Ned wanted to know.
“That’s what you are,” said the guiding officer. “You’ll unlash them every night when you’re piped to do so, and you’ll lash them up, out of the way, every morning, just as if you were aboard a battleship.”
“It’s to get used to it,” suggested Frank.
“Exactly, and so with everything else done here at the training station. We do it as nearly as it’s done on board a man-o’-war as is possible.”
Led by the petty officer into the store department, where the clothing for the apprentice seamen was dealt out, Ned and Frank each received two complete outfits – one for winter and one for summer, consisting of rubber boots and coat, caps, sweater, overcoat, trousers, shoes, underwear – in fact everything necessary.
“You’ve now each received sixty dollars’ worth of clothing for your start in a new life,” commented the officer.
“I’m afraid mine are going to be too big for me,” remarked one newly enlisted lad, who was rather small, though not below the standard.
“There’s a tailor right here on the premises, who’ll make them fit you like the paper on the wall,” said the officer. “And that’s one thing you boys might as well learn first as last. You’ve got to look neat while you’re working for Uncle Sam. He’ll do his part in giving you good clothes and the means to keep them in order. The rest is up to you.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” remarked Frank.
“Same here,” agreed his brother. “If there’s anything I like, it’s to be clean and neat.”
They had both been brought up that way.
If Ned and Frank had imagined that now they had received their outfit of clothing, there was nothing more to be done for a time, they were disappointed, for the petty officer, having arranged with the tailor to make certain alterations in some of the garments, told the recruits they would now be expected to mark each of their articles of wearing apparel with a stencil, so that each one would always know which was his.
“And when that is done you’ll have a few instructions in folding your things and stowing them away in your bag.”
“Fold our things!” exclaimed Ned. “Why can’t we hang them up? They’ll get all wrinkled if we fold them.”
“Not if you fold them the way I show you,” was the reply.
The officer then led the new recruits to the barracks, where each one was assigned to a certain hammock in the dormitory on the second floor. There were hammock hooks on the walls, just as there are on board a ship, and in a little while Ned, Frank and the others, after they had stenciled their clothes, were shown how to unlash the hammocks which were trussed up neatly out of the way.
Then they were given instructions in putting away the hammocks in ship-shape fashion.
“I’ve never slept in a hammock, except to doze off on an afternoon of a summer day under the trees,” remarked Frank.
“Neither have I. I wonder how I’ll like it?” returned his brother.
“Oh, there isn’t any finer bed going!” exclaimed the petty officer, enthusiastically. “You’ll find them comfortable here, even in barracks, but when you get aboard a ship, and find your hammock swaying to the motion, why say! you’ll be sorry to hear the breakfast call!”
“Not much I won’t!” exclaimed a fat, jolly-looking lad who probably had a good appetite.
Ned and Frank had noticed that the hammocks provided at the navy yard barracks of the Norfolk training station were not like the ordinary hammock in which magazine illustrators like to depict pretty girls with a book and a box of candy. The sailors’ hammocks were made of stout canvas, and each one was provided with a well-made hair mattress. The United States isn’t taking any chances on his boys’ going without a good night’s sleep. It makes every provision for their reasonable comfort, though there are no “fal-de-lals,” as Ned observed.
“But then, who wants them?” asked Frank.
“Certainly no one on a battleship,” answered his brother.
In addition to the mattress in the hammock there were two woolen blankets of good quality.
“You’ll never be cold, especially on board ship,” said the sergeant, “and when you want to be cool, just don’t use the blankets, that’s all. It’s the simplest and best bed in the world.”
Frank and Ned were beginning to believe this. They were already very favorably impressed with their new life, or, rather, its beginning. Of course they realized that hard work and plenty of it was in store for them.
They had enlisted for a term of four years. They could not resign before their term of enlistment was over if something did not suit them, and they would be subject to certain specified hours. But, as the petty officer told them, there was plenty of liberty allowed, and there were all sorts of recreations, such as swimming, boating, fencing, football, and other athletics. Then, too, they received free board, lodging and medical attention, and they were paid $17.50 a month, which could all be saved, not a penny of expense being called for except what was wanted for extras.
“And if you show yourselves capable, and learn quickly,” their friend, the sergeant, told them, “you’ll soon be earning more. Ordinary seamen get $20.90 a month, seamen $24.60, and – ”
“Say, what do gunners get?” asked impulsive Ned.
“Well, anywhere from $1,500 to $2,400 a year,” he answered. “And I want to say right now that if a lad is qualified he can get to that post, if he works hard.”
“Then I’m going to work hard!” declared Ned.
“Same here,” echoed his brother.
“That’s the kind of talk we like to listen to,” commented the sergeant. “Aim as high as you can, and hit the bull’s-eye!”
“Huh! Some folks are trying to crow before they’re out of the shell very long,” remarked a red-haired recruit, with a rather unpleasant face. He had seemed sullen ever since arriving at the training station, and the remarks of Frank and Ned seemed to anger him.
“What’s the matter with you?” asked the sergeant. “Some one step on your corns?”
“No, but it makes me mad to hear kids that don’t know a half hitch from a square knot talking about getting in the gunners’ class!”
He glared rather vindictively at our two friends, though they did not know of anything they had done to merit his displeasure. His name was Henry Dell, but he called himself “Hank.”
“That’s the sort of lad who is looking for trouble. Steer clear of him,” counseled the sergeant in a low tone to Frank and Ned, as he led them toward the mess hall where they would have their meals.
CHAPTER XI – “ALL ABOARD!”
“Say, Frank, when do you think we’ll really go on board a battleship?”
Ned asked this question of his brother, who was busy writing to his uncle, in the federal prison, telling the unfortunate man something of their new life.
“On the battleship?” repeated Frank, as he sealed the missive. “Well, I shouldn’t be surprised if it were very soon now.”
“Really?” cried Ned in incredulous delight. “How do you know?”
“Oh, well, rumors have been going around that some of the more advanced of us would be given our chance soon.”
“And do they count us advanced?”
“So I understand. We’ve worked hard enough, haven’t we?”
“We sure have! But that doesn’t always count.”
“Well, I think we are slated for the Georgetown all right,” Frank said.
“What! That magnificent new battleship?” cried Ned, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
“That’s the one, and it’s the very last word in battleships,” Frank went on.
This talk took place about four months after the arrival of our heroes at the training station. Those four months were so crowded with work, play, incidents, and a few accidents of minor character, so full of learning new things, that the whole book could be devoted to what happened when Ned and Frank were learning to be sailors. But there are other matters to tell of, so only a brief idea of what took place will be given. Perhaps another volume will tell more fully of life at Norfolk.
Instruction for the two boys of the battleship, as well as for their mates, went on constantly, and they fairly absorbed knowledge of nautical matters, seemingly taking it in through their skin, as well as through their eyes and ears.
In the big drill hall, where they were given setting-up exercises, as well as taught the manual of arms and how to march in certain formations, one could not help learning. On the walls were flags from every nation, and all sorts of signal flags. For a sailor must learn to talk by means of signals – lights at night, and flags or semaphore arms by day. So the flags were hung on the walls of the drill hall that the boys might have them before their eyes continually. There was also a big compass, with its thirty-two “points,” painted on one wall, thus there was no excuse for a lad’s not knowing how to box it; which means to reel off the different directions.
Some of the recruits had to be taught to swim, for this is one of the first things insisted on by those in charge of making a man-o’-warsman. But Ned and Frank were masters of this aquatic art, and their ability was soon recognized. In fact they were even detailed to help show others how to get about in the water.
And in the matter of boats, too, our heroes had the advantage over many of their mates. For their years spent on Great South Bay proved of great advantage to them, though the boats in which the drills were given at Norfolk were heavy cutters and large motor-driven skiffs, and were not so easy to maneuver as had been the Ellen.
“Do you wish you were back at Ipswhich again?” asked Ned of his brother one day, after a long boat drill.
“No, to tell you the truth, I think this life just suits us. Of course, I did love the old home, and I don’t dare think about poor Uncle Phil,” said Frank, “but this is really the life for us.”
“You’re right,” declared his brother. And if ever lads were destined for the navy Frank and Ned were.
In the model room, and in the rigging loft, the apprentice seamen, the title borne by Frank and Ned, were taught how to coil down gear, make knots and splices, as well as hitches, and how to manage sails. For though a battleship only moves by steam, there are small boats that have canvas as a motive power, and enough of real sailor knowledge is required to make it necessary that instruction be given.
In spite of his rather mean character and his bullying ways, Hank Dell showed that he knew a great deal more than the average recruit about ropes. He could tie any sort of knot.
“How’d you learn it?” asked Frank, for though he and Ned did not like the boy, they were honest enough to admire his ability.
“A sailor that lived near me showed me how,” was the answer. “He put me in the notion of coming here. But if I’d known how hard it was I wouldn’t have enlisted.”
Hank was lazy and shiftless in many ways, but he had to keep up to the mark, though this he did not like.
In due time Frank and Ned were assigned to the same battalion, and in that they went through many drills, all being designed to give the lads needed instruction. They had to learn how to send and receive messages by means of wig-wag flags, by the semaphore, which is something like a railway signal arm, and they also learned the alphabet, and to send and receive messages by means of colored lights at night.
Target practice, indoors and out, took up considerable time, for the United States requires its blue-jackets to be good shots with small arms as well as with the big guns. Ned and Frank became skillful with the revolver, also, though Ned would never be as expert as his brother. He had not the patience, but with the rifle they were both about on a par.
So well did our heroes apply themselves that both were soon promoted – that is they were made petty officers, and each received two dollars more a month.
“Say, if this keeps on we’ll be able to save enough to get Uncle Phil out on bail,” said Ned, with a laugh, one day as they drew their increase in money.
“That’s right,” admitted Frank. “But he writes that he is getting along pretty well, only he would like the chance to get out in order to go to work to clear his name.”
As a matter of fact, except for the obligation to remain within the legal confines of the federal prison, Mr. Arden was not suffering. He had a comfortable room and enough to eat. But his financial matters were in such shape that he could not get money to reopen his case, all his property, as well as that of the boys, being tied up in the South American matter.
“But when we get through here, and if we don’t want to re-enlist after our four years are up, we’ll be able to earn a good living,” Ned remarked.
“Yes,” agreed Frank, “perhaps a better one than if we had finished at college. Uncle Sam gives thorough training.”
And so their work and play went on at the training station, for there was plenty of play time. After four o’clock in the afternoon the time of Frank and Ned, as well as that of their mates, was their own. They could study if they chose, and many did, or they could play baseball or football, read, or otherwise enjoy life.
Best of all our friends liked the short cruises they were taken on from time to time to familiarize them with life aboard a ship. They learned all the details of hoisting boats, letting go the big anchors, weighing them, or hoisting them aboard again.
As Frank had said, there was a rumor going the rounds that soon some of the more advanced apprentices would be assigned to a real battleship, there to put into actual practice what they had learned.
“And that time can’t come any too soon!” exclaimed Ned.
“So you’re anxious to get out on the deep blue sea?” asked his brother.
“Yes. Aren’t you?”
“Well, I should say I am! But still it has been fine here.”
“I guess so!” exclaimed Ned, with emphasis. “Some different from the time we stood in front of the recruiting office, after we were robbed, wondering what in the world we were going to do.”
“That’s right! I wonder if we’ll ever see those two thieves again?”
“It’s hardly possible,” said Ned. But fate plays strange tricks.
Toward the close of the four months of training, the work became more difficult in a way, and yet it was not too hard. It was always interesting to Frank and Ned. They were very different lads from the rather easy-going ones to whom I introduced you in the storm on Great South Bay, when they watched the big gray battleship.
And at last the day came when our heroes were told that their training time was up, and that they, with others, were to be assigned to the Georgetown, which was then in the Brooklyn navy yard. There Frank and Ned were sent, reporting to the proper officer.
“There she is!” Frank exclaimed, as the gray shape of the very latest of the dreadnaughts loomed before them. “There she is, Ned!”
“Oh, what a beauty!” cried Ned, using the word beauty as one does toward a very homely bulldog.
“All aboard!” exclaimed Frank, as they walked up the inclined bridge to the decks of the fighting monster. “All aboard!”
“Huh! Some new jackies!” remarked one of a group of sailors who watched the arrival of the recruits. “Maybe they won’t be so anxious to be on board once we get to sea,” he sneered.
CHAPTER XII – THE CUT ROPES
“Say, look at those guns!”
“What will happen when she fires a broadside?”
“And cast your eye on those anchor chains!”
“I wouldn’t want to carry even one link!”
“See the double imposed turrets!”
“What a ship she is – a real ship of battle!”
These were only a few of the comments and exclamations that came from Frank, Ned and their shipmates as they boarded the Georgetown, on which they were shortly to make a cruise for practice. And everything they said was justified, for the vessel was the last word in construction for the United States government. In spite of the growing prejudice against big ships, in contradistinction to submarines and torpedo boats, the Georgetown had been built at enormous cost.
To describe her in detail would take up more space than is at our disposal. But most boys have either seen big battleships, or cruisers, or have looked at photographs of them, so have an idea of what they look like. But something larger and more formidable than anything before constructed to deal death and destruction from the sea will have to be imagined.
She had more big guns, and more small quick-firers than any vessel afloat, and as an innovation, her largest calibred rifles, forward and aft, were fifteen inches in diameter, the limit, up to then, having been fourteen inches. An inch may not seem much, but add it to the diameter of a big rifle, and it means that the gun must be very much larger and stronger in proportion, that it needs more powder to send the projectile on its way, and that the projectile is also greatly increased in weight and explosive power.
So it is no wonder our heroes were filled with astonishment and amazement as they gazed about them, once they were on board the craft that was to be their floating home for some time.
“Attention there now!” called a sharp voice, and an officer formed the new recruits in line, and marched them to the quarters where they were to stow their bags and sling their hammocks. Frank, Ned and the others had brought with them their belongings from Norfolk, and these were soon stowed away, in proper ship-shape fashion.
Here was where the long and careful training showed. In spite of the fact that it was their first appearance on the Georgetown, the recruits knew just what to do, and where to put their things.
Of course, ships differ, and some are more comfortable as living places than others, but the same general arrangement prevails on all of the United States battleships.
“When do we sail?” asked Frank of a sailor who had said he had been on the Georgetown since she had been put in commission.
“In a few days now. We’re just waiting for the old man.”
“Old man?” queried Ned.
“The captain,” the sailor explained. “He’s away on shore leave. His daughter got married, I believe, and he’s at the festivities. We’ll get out of here in about a week. Put in to be painted, you know.”
Frank and Ned had read that fact before coming up from Norfolk, and certainly the battleship was spick and span, and as shiny as the sailors could make her, every bit of brass, copper and nickel gleaming in the sun.
Our lads had hammocks next to one another, but it was not with much delight that they noticed that the red-haired bully, Hank Dell, was assigned to the same mess as themselves, his hammock adjoining Ned’s.
“But we won’t bother him if he doesn’t bother us,” Frank said to his brother.
There was not so much to be done aboard the Georgetown while she was in the navy yard as there would be once she was afloat, though there is always a certain amount of routine labor to be performed on a ship when she is in commission and subject to orders at a moment’s notice. In consequence, many of the sailors had been allowed shore leave, and after the first two days, during which they were made to do considerable work to make them familiar with the different parts of the craft, Frank and Ned were allowed a day off.
They went to New York, and strolled down toward the aquarium, hoping they might see the two thieves. But though they spent some time inside the building they were not successful in their quest.
They sent some souvenir postals to their uncle, knowing he would be glad to know that they remembered him. They had written frequently since they had been separated from him.
Seeing the sights of the big city again, after an absence of four months, was much enjoyed by the boys. But, strange as it may seem, they were glad to be back on board again. For they had no home now, and the battleship really filled that place in their hearts. Later on, when their uncle’s affairs should have been straightened out, they would, perhaps, be back in the old homestead.
Captain Decker, in command of the Georgetown, returned about a week after Ned and Frank had reached the vessel, and at once preparations were made for putting to sea. The big craft was to cruise about, and do some target practice off Newport later on.
Life aboard a battleship is very much a matter of routine, with the same thing occurring at the same time every day, save when unexpected drills, such as collision drill, or fire drill, are held, no notice being given of these. This is done to keep the men ever on the alert.
“Well, we’re off!” exclaimed Ned, as he and Frank, with the others of the crew, stood on deck, while the Georgetown steamed slowly out of New York harbor one day. “We’re off!”
“And I wonder what will happen before we get back again!” suggested Frank.
“Maybe there’ll be a war!” cried Ned, his eyes sparkling.
Frank shook his head.
“I don’t believe I want one,” he said slowly. “I’m not afraid, but – ”
“Yes, I know,” answered his brother.
Though Frank and Ned did not actually take part in a war, they were destined to see some fighting, and to see the destructive work of the big guns when fired at what really was an enemy. But of that, more later.
And so, out to sea went the battleship, with our friends aboard. Now began the real work of a man-o’-warsman. Reveille was sounded on a bugle at 5:30 every morning. That meant that every enlisted man who had not been on guard the night before, must jump out of his hammock, lash it up, and prepare himself for breakfast. There was no lagging – no taking a few more “winks,” for only fifteen minutes was allowed for clearing the decks of hammocks. Then coffee or cocoa was served, with bread, or, if the men preferred it, hardtack. And very good this was, too, not like the kind you read of in old-fashioned books, mouldy and full of worms. It was clean and sweet.
Half an hour was allowed for this early meal, and it could be followed by a smoke for those who indulged in tobacco. Frank and Ned did not, however.
At 6:30 all hands were summoned to clean ship. It might seem that this need not be done every day, but it has to be attended to, for a battleship is almost like a small town, and there is always something to be done. The men are told off into divisions, and each man has a certain “station,” the cleanliness of which he is responsible for. Each division, or squad, of men has a certain specified amount of work to do in cleaning ship. One division may have to scrub part of the deck, another will be given boats to clean and make ship-shape, and another will have paint work or brass or copper fittings to polish.
It might be mentioned that following the early morning cup of coffee each man is required to wash his own clothes, for cleanliness is one of the cardinal points in the navy. And matters are so arranged that the cleaning of the ship stops in time for the men to make themselves neat for the breakfast, which is served from 7:30 to 8:15 A. M. For this the men are always in uniform, the nature of their clothing depending on the climate they are cruising in.
As was mentioned, the two brothers had their hammocks slung near that of Hank Dell. Nine o’clock is the hour when all blue-jackets must be in their hammocks, unless allowed to stay up for some entertainment, of which there are many aboard the ships.
At 7:30 A.M. on the first day out, when Frank and Ned went to sling their beds, in readiness for the night, Frank saw Hank near Ned’s lashed hammock.
“Guess you’re making a mistake, aren’t you?” said Frank. “That isn’t yours.”
“Oh, that’s so!” exclaimed Hank, with affected surprise. “I’m a bit green about things here. Mine’s over on this side,” and he went to his own sleeping quarters.
Frank thought no more about it at the time, but slung his own hammock. Ned, coming down a few minutes afterward, did the same. Then, as the time was free up to nine o’clock, the brothers went on deck to enjoy the air, for the day had been hot.
“Say, it’s simply great, isn’t it?” remarked Ned, as he gazed off over the heaving waters, silvered by the moon.
“Couldn’t be better,” declared Frank. “It’s the best life ever!”
The signal came for turning in, and the men, rather regretfully perhaps, went below.
As Ned sprang up into his hammock it gave way with him, and down he came with a crash, turning over so that he fell on deck, off the mattress, bruising himself painfully.
“Hurt?” asked Frank, hurrying to his brother’s side.
“Oh, not so much but that I can stand it,” was the grim answer.
Some little commotion was caused by this accident, and a number of the men laughed, Hank seeming to find much pleasure in the occurrence. An officer came along.
“What’s going on here?” he asked sternly.
“My hammock gave way with me, sir,” reported Ned, saluting.
“Did some one pull it down?”
“I don’t think so, sir.”
Frank, who had been bending over the end of the hammock, gave a startled cry.
“The ropes have been cut!” he exclaimed.
