Chapter XXIX: The Armed Guard

When the Germans began to sink our unarmed merchant vessels, and announced that they intended to continue that course of action, it was immediately seen that the only possible military answer to this infamous policy lay in arming every ship. There were obstacles, however, to this defensive programme. We were at the time engaged in what was essentially a legal controversy with the Germans, a controversy in which the case of America and civilization was stated with a clarity, a sincerity, and a spirit of idealism which perhaps only the future can justly appreciate. We could not afford to weaken our case by involving in doubt the legal status of the merchantman. The enemy, driven brilliantly point by point from the pseudo-legal defences of an outrageous campaign, had taken refuge in quibbling, "the ship was armed," "a gun was seen," "such vessels must be considered as war vessels." We all know the sorry story. For a while, our hands were tied. Then came our declaration of war which left our Navy free to take protective measures. The merchantmen were fitted with guns, and given crews of Navy gunners. This service, devoted to the protection of the merchant ship, was known as the Armed Guard.

It was not long before tanker and tramp, big merchantman and grimy collier sailed from our ports fully equipped. Vessels whose helplessness before the submarine had been extreme, the helplessness of a wretched sparrow gripped in the talons of a hawk, became fighting units which the submarine encountered at her peril. Moreover, finding it no longer easy to sink ships with gunfire, the submarines were forced to make greater use of their torpedoes, and this in turn compelled them to attempt at frequent intervals the highly dangerous voyage to the German bases on the Belgian coast. Sometimes the gun crews were British; sometimes American. The coöperation between the two Navies was at once friendly and scientific.

The guns with which the vessels were equipped were of the best, and the gun crews were recruited from the trained personnel of the fleet. One occasionally hears, aboard the greater vessels, lamentations for gunners who have been sent on to the Guard. These crews consisted of some half-dozen men usually under the command of a chief petty officer. A splendid record, theirs. They have been in action time and time again against the Germans, and have destroyed submarines. There is many a fine tale in the records of crews who kept up the battle till the tilt of their sinking vessel made the firing of the gun an impossibility. So far, the gunners on the merchant ships have come in for the lion's share of attention. But there is another and important side of the Armed Guard service which has not yet, I believe, been called to the public notice. I mean the work of the signal men of the Guard.

The arming of the merchant ships was the first defensive measure to be adopted; the second, the gathering of merchantmen into escorted groups known as convoys. Now a convoy has before it several definite problems. If it was to make the most of its chances of getting through the German ambush, it must act as a well coördinated naval unit, obeying orders, answering signals, and performing designated evolutions in the manner of a battleship squadron. For instance, convoys follow certain zigzag plans, prepared in advance by naval experts. Frequently these schemes are changed at sea. Now if all the vessels change from plan X to plan Y simultaneously, all will go well, but if some delay, there is certain to be a most dangerous confusion, perhaps a collision. It is no easy task to keep twenty or so boats zigzagging in convoy formation, and travelling in a general direction eastward at the same time. Merchant captains have had to accustom themselves to these strict orders, no easy task for some old-fashioned masters; merchant crews have had to be educated to the discipline and method of naval crews. Moreover, there have been occasional foreign vessels to deal with, and the problem presented by a foreign personnel. In order, therefore, to assure that communication between the guide ship of the convoy and its attendant vessels which is, in the true sense of an abused word, vital to the success of the expedition, the Navy placed one of its keenest signalmen on the vessels which required one. He was there to give and to send signals, by flag, by international flag code, by "blinker" and by semaphore. The wireless was used as little as possible between the various vessels of the merchant fleet, indeed, practically not at all.

The system of signalling by holding two flags at various angles is fairly familiar since a number of organizations began to teach it, and the semaphore system is the same system carried into action by two mechanical arms. The method called "Blinker" has a Morse alphabet, and is sent by exposing and shutting off a light, the shorter exposures being the dots, the longer exposures, the dashes. Sometimes "blinker" is sent by the ship's search light, a number of horizontal shutters attached to one perpendicular rod serving to open and close the light aperture. One used to see the same scheme on the lower halves of old-fashioned window blinds. The international flag code is perhaps the hardest signal system to remember. It requires not only what a naval friend calls a good "brute" memory, but also a good visual memory. Many have seen the flags, gay pieces of various striped, patched, chequered, and dotted bunting reminiscent of a Tokio street fair. The signalman must learn the flag alphabet, committing to memory the colours and their geometric arrangement; he must also learn the special signification of each particular letter. For instance, one letter of the alphabet stands for "I wish to communicate"; there are also numbers to remember, phrases, and sentences. If a signalman cares to specialize, he can study certain minor systems, for instance the one in which a dot and a dash are symbolized by different coloured lights. A signalman must have a good eye, a quick brain, and a good memory. It is a feat in itself to remember what one has already received while continuing to receive a long, perhaps complicated message. Because of these intellectual requirements, you will find among the signalmen some of the cleverest lads in the Navy. "Giles" such a lad, "Idaho," another, and "Pop" was always "on the job."

The Guard has its barracks in a great American port. One saw there the men being sorted out, equipped for their special service, and assigned to their posts. A fine lot of real seafaring youngsters, tanned almost black. The Navy looked after them in a splendid fashion. Said one of the boys to me, "If I had only known what a wonderful place the Navy was, I'd been in it long ago." The boys were sent over in the merchant ships, were cleanly lodged in excellent hotels once they got to land, and were then sent back on various liners. The Armed Guard was a real seafaring service, and its men one and all were touched by the romance and mystery of the sea. They fell in with strange old tramps hurried from the East, they broke bread with strange crews, they beheld the sea in the sullen wrath it cherishes beneath the winter skies. One and all they have stood by their guns, one and all stood by their tasks, good, sturdy, American lads, gentlemen unafraid.