WAR OFF OUR COASTS FROM MAY TO SEPTEMBER, 1918—GERMANS SENT SUBMARINES TO INTERRUPT TROOP AND SUPPLY TRANSPORTATION, BUT TRANSPORTS WERE SO WELL GUARDED THAT NOT ONE WAS ATTACKED OR EVEN DELAYED—MANY SCHOONERS AND SOME STEAMERS SUNK, BARGES AND LIGHTSHIP SHELLED, BUT GERMANS FAILED IN THEIR MAIN OBJECT.

Europe was not the only "war zone." There was war off our own coasts from May to September, 1918, and the Navy had to protect transports and shipping, to escort convoys and hunt submarines on this side of the Atlantic as well as off the coasts of Great Britain and France.

During that period the Navy was as much in active war service in home waters as it was in Europe. And our methods were quite as successful here as there, for in the entire four months in which German submarines operated off our coasts not one convoy was attacked, and not one transport was delayed in sailing.

Will you ever forget that Sunday, June 2, 1918, when a German submarine suddenly appeared off the New Jersey coast and sank six vessels, ending the day with the destruction of the passenger steamer Carolina?

The first news came at 5:30 p. m., from the Ward Liner Mexico, which radioed that she had picked up three lifeboats containing fifty men of the Isabel B. Wiley and other schooners that had been sunk. This message was immediately broadcasted with a warning to all ships along the coast. Naval vessels were at once ordered to the vicinity and patrol craft in that region and all along the coast were notified to keep a sharp lookout for the submarine.

The passenger steamer Carolina, en route to New York from Porto Rico, was 13 miles from where the Wiley was sunk, when she received the warning at 5:55 o'clock. Darkening her lights, she steered due west, putting on full speed. The captain had just got his vessel steadied on the new course, when he sighted the submarine two miles away. In a moment or two the U-boat fired three shells, which landed near the steamer. At the second shot the captain stopped his ship. He had ordered the wireless operator to send out an "SOS" signal, stating that the vessel was attacked by submarine. But, realizing, he said, the uselessness of trying to escape, and fearing if he sent out radio messages the U-boat might shell the ship, endangering the lives of those aboard, the captain recalled the order. The radio operator stated that the submarine had wirelessed to him, under low power, "If you don't use wireless I won't shoot." That was the reason we were so long in getting news of the sinking of the Carolina. She sent out no distress signals.

At his third shot, the submarine bore down on the vessel, which was flying the signal "A.B."—abandon ship—and was lowering its lifeboats. "Women and children first," was the rule, and after they had been placed safely, the men entered the boats. As the captain, the last to leave, cleared the ship's side, the submarine commander ordered him to make for shore. The U-boat fired several shells into the vessel, and she finally sank at 7:55 p. m., with the American ensign and signals flying. Clouds of fire and steam arose as she went down.

The Carolina carried 218 passengers, and a crew of 117. All got safely into the lifeboats, which were moored head and stern, one to the other, except the motor sailer and boat No. 5, and all headed for shore, on a westward course. They had smooth seas until midnight, when a squall came on with heavy rain and lightning. The boats, which were connected by lines, were anchored until the storm passed. At daylight they began to proceed singly, to make rowing easier.

At 11 o'clock the storm-tossed survivors sighted a schooner, the Eva B. Douglas, which took aboard all that were in sight, 160 passengers and 94 of the crew. But about noon one boat, in attempting to weather the rough seas, capsized, drowning seven passengers and six of the crew. There were still three boats to be accounted for. The next day, 19 survivors were picked up and carried to Vineyard Haven, and 18 were rescued by the British steamer Appleby, and taken to Lewes, Delaware. Lifeboat No. 5 was rowed to shore, and the thousands along the Boardwalk were amazed when it came in sight and was landed through the surf at Atlantic City.

That Monday, June 3rd, was one of the busiest days of the war in the Navy Department, as it was at naval bases all along the Atlantic. The fact that the Germans were operating off our shores stirred up not only Washington but the entire country.

Plans for submarine defense had been made out long before, and were put into effect. Our patrol force, all along the line, was on the job. But hunting a U-boat and capturing it are two very different things.

News and rumors were pouring in, and when I received the newspaper correspondents I faced a fire of questions as rapid as that of a machine-gun:

"What is the Navy doing to protect shipping?"

"Why did it let the submarine sink those vessels?"

"Have you sunk the U-boat?"

"What naval vessels have you sent out? What methods are they using to get the 'sub'?"

"How many boats have the Germans sent over?"

"Have you got enough vessels to protect our coast and commerce?"

"Will you recall our destroyers from Europe?"

As I was doing my best to answer the questions of the gentlemen of the press, who had a right to know everything that was not of advantage to the enemy, telegrams were pouring into the Department by the hundred, and the telephones were ringing without cessation. In twenty-four hours, 5,000 telegrams, radio messages, 'phone calls and other inquiries were handled by the Navy. The halls and offices of the Department were thronged with anxious people, shippers and ship-owners, friends and relatives of captains and crews. And everybody wanted information.

There was alarm along the coast, from Cape Cod to Key West. If one U-boat was over here, two might be or three or more. That was the general feeling. One of the most persistent questions, which came from the country, as well as the press, was whether we were going to recall our destroyers from Europe—and in many cases this was put not as an inquiry but a demand.

We could not tell the public what we were doing, what ships were being sent out, and where. That was just what the Germans wanted to know. Most of our destroyers and the best of our patrol craft were in European waters, 3,000 miles away, performing vital duty against the enemy in England, Ireland, France and Italy. We had no idea of recalling them.

Thousands of vessels would have been required to patrol every mile of our long coast-line, and guard all the boats off our shores. Our duty was clear. The Germans had sent their U-boats across the sea mainly to interrupt the transportation of troops and supplies. If they did not succeed in that, their coming would have no real military effect.

"Our first duty," I said to the newspaper men that morning, "is to keep open the road to France, to protect troop-ships and Army supply vessels. We are doing all we can to protect all shipping and commerce, but the safety of troops must be our first thought."

The policy was so well carried out that not one troop-ship or cargo transport was delayed in sailing, and the months in which enemy submarines operated almost continuously off our coasts were the very months in which we broke all records in troop transportation.

The first submarine that came over in 1918 was the U-151, and the first craft she sank were three small schooners, the Hattie Dunn, Hauppauge and Edna, all sent down by bombs the same day, May 25th. To prevent disclosure of her presence, she kept the crews of all three, 23 men, imprisoned aboard her, and sailed well out at sea, submerging whenever a large vessel was sighted, until June 2nd, when she sank three other schooners, the Isabel Wiley, Jacob M. Haskell and Edward H. Cole; a small steamer, the Winneconne, and late in the afternoon attacked the steamships Texel and Carolina. All the Texel's crew were saved, but they rowed to shore and the story of her sinking was not told until they reached Atlantic City next morning. En route from Porto Rico to New York, with a cargo of sugar, the Texel was stopped at 4:21 p. m. by the firing of shells, one of which struck the vessel, and an hour later was sunk by bombs placed aboard.

By sinking only small boats which had no radio apparatus, and holding their crews prisoners, the U-151 had for ten days concealed her whereabouts. But the Navy had warned shipping to be on the lookout, and on May 16th had sent this message to all section bases:

Most Secret:—From information gained by contact with enemy submarine, one may be encountered anywhere west of 40 degrees west. No lights should be carried, except as may be necessary to avoid collision, and paravanes should be used when practicable and feasible. Acknowledge, Commander-in-Chief Atlantic Fleet; Commander Cruiser Force, Commander Patrol Squadron, Flag San Domingo, Governor Virgin Islands, Commandants 1st to 8th, inclusive, and 15th Naval Districts. 13016.

Opnav.

The Department had been notified from London Headquarters early in May that a large-type submarine had left Germany for American waters, and on May 15th, the British steamer Huntress reported that she had escaped a torpedo attack in latitude 34°-28' north, longitude 56°-09' west, about 1,000 miles east of Cape Hatteras. Four days later the Nyanza was attacked 300 miles from our coast; the Jonancy was gunned about 150 miles at sea, and on May 21st the British steamer Crenelia reported sighting a submarine.

This information was disseminated to all section bases, coast defense commanders and forces afloat; and in addition to the regular patrols, special sub-chaser detachments were organized, and ordered to proceed, upon the receipt of any "SOS" or "Allo" message, to the vessel attacked or in distress.

Comprehensive plans for defense, protection of shipping and combating the U-boats had been made long previously. Before we entered the war a general scheme had been adopted, a patrol force and naval districts organized. From that time on we had maintained a vigilant lookout for the German craft. A special Planning Board had been created in February, 1918, to study the situation afresh and recommend any additional measures that might be adopted for coast defense, and protection of shipping. These plans, approved March 6, placed coastwise shipping under the control of district commandants, district boundaries being, for this purpose, extended seaward and sharply defined. On May 4 a circular letter was sent to all ship-owners and masters, detailing the procedure they were to follow. Commandants were instructed to see that all routing preliminaries and shipping requirements and military and commercial arrangements on shore were made and thoroughly understood by all the interests concerned.

The morning of June 3rd, the order was issued to commandants, "Assume control of coastwise shipping and handle traffic in accordance therewith;" and the following warning was sent out:

Unmistakable evidence enemy submarine immediately off coast between Cape Hatteras and Block Island. Vessels not properly convoyed advised to make port until further directed.

A Coastwise Routing Office was organized in the Navy Department as a part of Naval Operations. Every naval district had its arrangement for routing and convoying traffic in and through its areas. The commandant made up the convoy, outlined its route, and provided escort through his territory, each district in succession relieving the previous escort. Thus naval protection was provided for shipping all along the coast.

Routing offices were also established at Halifax, Nova Scotia; at Havana, San Juan and all leading West Indian ports; and Tampico, Mexico—in fact, eventually at every Atlantic port where coastwise shipping was likely to originate.

Through the Naval Communication Service full information as to convoys, rendezvous and other details were sent in code. Each ship's master, before sailing, was required to go to the routing office and receive written instructions as to the route to be followed and areas to be avoided. He was given all the latest submarine information and was told of the signals and the location of each "speaking station."

These speaking stations were established at various points along the coast. Manned by navy personnel, using a simple code of distance signals, they could communicate with ships not equipped with radio, call vessels into harbor if necessary, and divert them from dangerous localities. They performed a valuable function in expediting the flow of shipping from district to district, as well as, by prompt action, warning craft in danger. Ships at sea received by radio all war warnings and orders, and when it was necessary to divert convoys, orders to change course could be sent at a moment's notice. Far south were two "reporting" stations. Vessels passing out of the Gulf of Mexico coastwise-bound were required to report at Sand Key, those northbound through the Old Bahama passage, to report at Jupiter.

Thus escort was provided for vessels through all the areas in which submarines were likely to operate, and a system provided by which the Navy could keep track of and in touch with them from the time they sailed until they reached port. Though this necessitated a large fleet of escorting vessels, of which our best were at work in Europe, by utilizing all the patrol craft that could be secured and our sturdy little sub-chasers, we managed to provide sufficient escorts.

It is a notable fact that, while the submarines sank many schooners and fishing craft and some steamers proceeding independently, during the entire four months in which the U-boats operated in the Western Atlantic not one convoy, coastwise or trans-Atlantic, was attacked off the coast of the United States.

The alarm which occurred when the U-boats first appeared quickly subsided. The details of the comprehensive system the Navy had put into effect could not then be published. But the naval committees of Congress knew, for we could impart this information, in confidence, to them. To find out for themselves whether the Navy was doing everything possible to protect shipping and repel the Germans, Senators and Representatives came to the Navy Department, and examined all our plans and arrangements.

Senator Lodge well expressed their convictions in his speech in the Senate on June 6th, 1918, when he said:

The Navy and the Navy Department have taken every precaution that human foresight could suggest, so far as I am able to judge, and I have examined their preparations with such intelligence and care as I could give to the matter. ***

Mr. President, the Navy and the Navy Department have necessarily anticipated a submarine attack from the very beginning of the war. They have had it constantly on their minds. They have tried to make every preparation to meet it. I think they have. It would be most injurious for me to stand here and follow down the map of the coast and tell the Senate and the public exactly what those preparations are—tell them where the submarine chasers are, where the destroyers are, where the signal stations are, what arrangements they have made for meeting the danger when it came, as they were sure it would come. No human mind can possibly tell when out of the great waste of waters of the Atlantic Ocean a submarine, which travels by night and submerges by day, will appear. As soon as the Navy had any authentic news to indicate the presence of submarines on this coast they acted. They will do everything that can be done. They have the means to do it. That is all that I feel at liberty to say in a general way.

Mr. President, for four years the greatest Navy in the world has been devoting its strength to the destruction of German submarines. They were operating in what are known as the narrow seas, where the commerce of the world, we may say, comes together in a closely restricted area; and even there, with the knowledge for years of the presence of the German submarines, it is not going too far to say that many of those submarines escaped them. They are diminishing now, with our assistance. A larger control is being established over the narrow seas, and the work against the submarines at the point of the greatest danger—what we may call the naval front of this war—is succeeding more than many of us dared to hope. It is done by the multiplication of vessels and the multiplication of methods, and there is the great center of the fight.

One or two submarines have appeared suddenly on our coast, as was to be anticipated. In my judgment, we are doing all that can be done. I have taken the pains to go to the Department, where everything has been laid before the members of the Naval Affairs Committee who cared to investigate the subject, and I am entirely satisfied that they are doing everything that is possible. But the chase of the submarine is something like searching for the needle in the haystack. You can not tell in which particular wisp of hay it will come to the surface; but that the defense will be effective I have no sort of question. ***

We have a patrol along the coast, which is composed chiefly of what is known as the Life-Saving Service, or the Coast Guard, as it is now known. We also have an organized system for procuring information from fishermen and others on the coast, extending from Maine to the Gulf. Those sources of information were organized and in operation through the Navy Department at least two years before we entered the war, so I believe that so far as our own coasts are concerned the chances of a base there are almost negligible. ***

I did not rise to go into the details to describe to you the different naval districts of the country and what has been done in each one of them, but simply to tell you what my own opinion is after having examined all the arrangements with the utmost care of which I was capable and with the most intense interest, and I give my word for what it is worth, that in my judgment the Navy and the Navy Department, the Secretary and Assistant Secretary, and all the officers, the Chief of Staff, and every head of a bureau has done everything that human foresight could suggest. ***

I want the Senate also to remember that when newspaper editorials ask what the Navy is doing I should like to have them consider why it is that we have sent all the troops we have sent—and we have sent a great many thousands—why it is that they have gone to Europe without the loss of a transport, thank God, as I do. How is it that that has happened? It has happened because of the American Navy, which furnished the convoys, and no other cause.

I wish I could go on and tell you what the American Navy has been doing in the narrow seas. I can not. The Navy has remained largely silent about its work and its preparation, and it is one of the best things about it, but it has been doing the greatest possible work everywhere. It has not failed in convoying the troops. It has not failed in its work in the Baltic and the Channel and the coast of France and the Mediterranean, and it will not fail here. It will do everything that courage and intelligence and bravery can possibly do.

In addition to the elusive U-boat, mines laid by the "subs" also proved a constant danger, quite as much as gunfire, bombs and torpedoes. The afternoon of June 3, the tanker Herbert L. Pratt struck a mine two and a half miles off Overfalls lightship, and sank. But she was not in deep water, and was quickly salvaged and towed to Philadelphia. Late that evening at 6 o'clock, the U-151, in another locality, overhauled and sank the Sam C. Mengel. The first officer, John W. Wilkins, stated that when the crew were leaving the schooner, the German boarding-officer shook hands with them, and exclaimed:

"Send Wilson out here and we will finish him in ten minutes. Wilson is the only one prolonging the war."

Next morning an "SOS" call came from the French tanker Radioleine, "attacked by submarine." The coast torpedo-boat Hull (Lieutenant R. S. Haggart), rushed to her assistance. Zigzagging and firing her stern-gun, the steamer was putting up a good defense, though shells were falling around her. But before the Hull could get within firing distance, the U-boat dived and scurried off. As the Radioleine, relieved, sailed away, the Hull picked up the crew of the schooner Edward R. Baird, Jr., which had been bombed two hours before, but was still afloat, though water-logged, with decks awash.

Moving around from point to point, in the next week the U-151 sank six steamships, one an American steamer, the Pinar Del Rio, and then headed for Germany.

Naval vessels were on the lookout all the time. But when the submarine did attack any craft which had radio, it prevented them, if possible, from sending out signals or messages of distress. This was a great handicap to the naval commanders, as it prevented them from knowing where the U-boat was operating. The moment a periscope was reported, they speeded for the scene.

As it departed for home, the submarine attacked two British steamers, the Llanstephan Castle and Keemun, both of which escaped, and later sank two Norwegian barks, the Samoa and Kringsjaa, 150 miles at sea. Though sighted several times by merchantmen, the U-151 made no further attacks until June 18th, when she torpedoed the British steamship Dwinsk, far out in the Atlantic. The vessel remained afloat and two hours later was sunk by gunfire.

Soon afterward the U. S. S. Von Steuben arrived on the scene and bore down on the lifeboats. The submarine fired a torpedo at her, but the cruiser transport avoided the deadly missile, and blazed away at the "sub's" periscope. She fired 19 shots and dropped numerous depth-charges. But the U-boat submerged and got away and three days later, about 200 miles further east, sank the Belgian Chilier. The Norwegian steamer Augvald was sunk June 23. This was the last vessel sunk, though the submarine made several unsuccessful attacks on British and American ships.

The U-151 reached Germany August 1, having left Kiel April 14. In a cruise of nearly three months she had sunk 23 vessels, of 59,000 gross tons. Some submarines in European waters had destroyed that much tonnage in a week or two.

But this was only the beginning of submarine operations. The U-156, commanded by KapitÄn-Leutnant von Oldenburg, left Germany for America June 15, and on July 5 attacked, almost in mid-Atlantic, the U. S. S. Lake Bridge, which after a running fight outdistanced her. Her first appearance in our waters was on July 21st, when she bobbed up near Cape Cod, Mass., and attacked the tug Perth Amboy and four barges in tow. Three torpedoes were fired at the tug, it was stated. A shell crashed through the wheelhouse, and cut off the hand of a sailor as he grasped the spokes of the steering wheel. The tug on fire, the German turned his attention to the barges, and kept firing away until several men were wounded and the helpless craft went down. Three women and five children were aboard the barges. They, with the crews, were reached by boats from Coast Guard Station No. 40, and landed at Nauset Harbor.

Seaplanes from the Chatham naval air station flew to the scene and attacked the submarine, dropping aerial bombs. Though the haze obscured the view, bombs fell very near the U-boat, and one or two, it was reported, actually struck her but failed to explode. Not relishing this attack from the air, the German submerged and started for Canadian waters.

Sinking a fishing schooner 60 miles southeast of Cape Porpoise, and burning another near the entrance to the Bay of Fundy, the raider turned her attention to the fishing fleet around Seal Island, Nova Scotia, sinking four American schooners and three Canadians. She also sank the Canadian tanker Luz Blanca and the Swedish steamer Sydland. On August 11 the British steamship Penistone was torpedoed and sunk, her master, David Evans, taken prisoner, and the Herman Winter, an American steamer, was attacked, but escaped uninjured. Sailing southward the U-boat, a week later, sank the San Jose, and Evans was released and allowed to get into a lifeboat with the Norwegian crew.

The U-156 then went northward again, and on August 20 captured the Canadian steam trawler Triumph, and armed her as a raider, placing a German crew aboard. Operating together, they sank a dozen schooners in Canadian waters. Sinking the Canadian schooner Gloaming, on August 26, the U-156 started on her homeward voyage. The only attack she made returning was unsuccessful, an encounter on August 31 with the U. S. S. West Haven, which drove her off.

Beginning by attacking barges and tugs, devoting most of her time to sinking small fishing craft, the U-156 met an inglorious end in the Northern Mine Barrage. Attempting to "run" the barrage, she struck a mine and sank so quickly that, apparently, many of her men did not have time to escape. Twenty-one survivors were landed on the Norwegian Coast; the fate of the rest of the crew is unknown. It seems like fate that this raider which destroyed so many helpless little American vessels should have been sent down by that creation which was mainly American, the great barrage which, 3,500 miles from this country, stretched across the North Sea.

At the same time the U-156 was slaying fishing craft in the north, another German submarine, commanded by Korvetten-KapitÄn Kophamel, the U-140, was operating in southern waters. Leaving Kiel June 22, only a week after the U-156, this big undersea boat began work almost in mid-ocean July 18, gunning the American tanker Joseph Cudahy. On the 26th she fired on two British vessels, and later on the Kermanshah. All these attacks were unsuccessful, but she succeeded in sinking the Portuguese bark Porto, and on August 1 the Japanese steamship Tokuyama was torpedoed 200 miles southeast of New York.

The U-140 had a long and hot fight, before she sank, August 4th, her first American vessel, the tanker O. B. Jennings, Captain George W. Nordstrom, master; one man being killed and several wounded, before the ship was sent down. Then the U-140, sinking a schooner on the way, headed for Diamond Shoals, on the North Carolina coast, near Cape Hatteras.

The Merak, a Dutch steamship taken over by the Americans, was sailing along at eight knots, when, at 1:40 p. m., a shot crossed her bow. Putting about, the Merak made for shore, zigzagging, the submarine pursuing, firing a shell a minute. After the thirtieth shot, the Merak ran aground and her crew took to the boats. The Germans boarded the steamer, bombed her, and then turned their attention to other vessels. Three were in sight, the steamers Beucleuch and Mariner's Harbor, and the Diamond Shoals lightship.

First they turned their guns on the lightship. Unarmed, with no means of defense, this vessel of 590 tons was of the same type as the other ships which are stationed at various points along the coast to keep their lights burning and warn mariners off dangerous points. To destroy one of these coast sentinels is like shooting down a light-house. But the Germans evidently thought its destruction would cause a shock and arouse indignation, if nothing else. So they shot down the sentinel of Diamond Shoals, while the lightships' crew took to the boats and saved their lives by rowing to shore. Then the U-140 attacked the Beucleuch, but the British steamer was too fast for her, and in the meantime the Mariner's Harbor, too, had escaped.

No more was heard of the U-140 until August 10, when she attacked the Brazilian steamer Uberaba. The destroyer Stringham went at once to the steamship's assistance and drove off the enemy. The Brazilians later presented the destroyer with a silk American flag and a silver loving-cup, to express their thanks for the timely aid given by the Stringham in saving the Uberaba from destruction.

After a brush with the U. S. S. Pastores, whose gunfire proved too hot to face, the U-140 proceeded several hundred miles north, keeping well out at sea, and was not heard from for a week. Then on August 21, after a gunfire contest, she sank the British steamer Diomed, and the next night attacked the Pleiades, an American cargo vessel, whose shots fell so close around the submarine that it was glad to get away.

That was the last experience, near our coast, of the U-140, which was already headed for Germany. She had been damaged, whether by our shells or depth-bombs, or from some other cause could not be ascertained. Her passage was slow until she was joined by the U-117, September 9. They proceeded in company toward Germany, the U-140 reaching Kiel October 25.

The U-117, a mine-layer of large type, commanded by KapitÄn-Leutnant Droscher, had left Germany early in July, and her first exploit on this side of the Atlantic was a raid on the fishing fleet, near George's Bank, a hundred miles or more east of Cape Cod. In one day, August 10th, she sank nine little schooners of 18 to 54 tons. Coming nearer shore, she torpedoed and sank the Norwegian steamer Sommerstadt, 25 miles southeast of Fire Island. The torpedo made a circle around the vessel and returning, exploded, her master, Captain George Hansen, declared, saying:

The torpedo went about 1,300 fathoms on the starboard side; then it started to turn to the left. When I saw the torpedo start to swerve around, I gave orders for full speed ahead. After it passed the bow it made two turns, making a complete circle, and then struck our vessel aft on the port side exactly between the third and fourth holds, right at the bulkhead.

The next afternoon the Frederick R. Kellogg, an American tanker, was torpedoed 30 miles south of Ambrose Channel lightship. The torpedo struck in the engine-room, and the ship went down in fifteen seconds, her master, Captain C. H. White, stated. Two steel decks and a wooden deck were blown up, and a lifeboat was blown in the air. The engineer, his third assistant, one fireman and an oiler were killed or drowned. The ship sank in shallow water, however, and was later raised, towed to port and repaired.

The submarine sank the schooner Dorothy B. Barrett and the motor-ship Madrugada, and on the 17th sent down, 120 miles southeast of Cape Henry, the Nordhav, a Norwegian bark, whose survivors were rescued by the battleship Kearsarge. The U-117 had a long combat on August 20, with the Italian steamer Ansaldo III, the steamer escaping after a gun duel that lasted nearly three hours, and the next day had another running fight with the British Thespis, which was also unsuccessful.

The final exploit of the U-117 on this side of the ocean was the sinking of two Canadian schooners on August 30th. She then started across the Atlantic, ten days later joining the U-140.

It was not until early in August that the Deutschland, which had made two trips to the United States as a commercial submarine in 1916, left Germany for American waters. Her operations were mainly far out at sea or in Canadian waters, and she never came within 200 or 300 miles of the United States coast.

Renamed the U-155, the Deutschland began her activities on this expedition on August 27, 1918, when she attacked the American steamship Montoso almost in mid-Atlantic. It was at night, about 9 o'clock, when the Montoso and the Rondo and Ticonderoga, which were with her, opened fire. The submarine fired several shots, but the guns of our vessels drove it off.

Five days later the Deutschland attacked the U. S. S. Frank H. Buck, opening fire with two six-inch guns. Firing first with its 3-inch forward gun, then putting into action its six-incher, the Buck made a vigorous reply. Her shots were falling close to the "sub," but enemy shrapnel was bursting above the vessel and falling on deck. The Buck reported that one of her shots apparently hit right at the stern of the U-boat and another forward of the conning tower, under the water line. The submarine then disappeared. She seemed to have been damaged, but not enough to put her out of commission, for on September 2nd she sank the Norwegian steamer Shortind and on the 7th chased and shelled the British steamship Monmouth. Five days later she torpedoed the Portuguese steamer Leixoes, three of the crew being lost, one going down with the ship and two dying of cold and exposure in the lifeboats.

September 13th was an unlucky day for the Deutschland, for in a gunfire contest with the armed British merchantman Newby Hall, she was struck by a shell which exploded and temporarily put out of action her forward gun. For the next week she seems to have devoted her attention to mine-laying, off Halifax and the Nova Scotian coast. Then she sank a small steam trawler, the Kingfisher, and on Sept. 29th unsuccessfully attacked the British steamer Reginolite. On October 3 and 4, she sank the Italian steamship Alberto Treves and the British schooner Industrial.

At 10 a. m., Oct. 12th, the Deutschland attacked the American steamship Amphion, formerly the German KÖln. Her second shot carried away the steamer's wireless. Then ensued a gunfire contest that lasted more than an hour, the submarine firing some 200 shots and the Amphion 72. The Amphion was hit time and again, her lifeboats were riddled, and her super-structure damaged, but she gradually drew off and the U-boat abandoned the chase.

The last American steamer sunk during the war was the Lucia, known as the "non-sinkable" ship—and the reports indicate that it was the Deutschland that sank her. The Lucia, a U. S. Shipping Board vessel used as an army cargo transport, had been fitted up with buoyancy boxes. There was considerable interest in this experiment, proposed and carried out by the Naval Consulting Board, accounts of which had been widely published. These boxes did not render the vessel unsinkable, but it is a significant fact that she remained afloat twenty-two hours after she was torpedoed.

It was 5:30 p. m., October 17, when the torpedo struck in the engine-room, killing four men. Though the submarine was not seen, the naval armed guard stood at their guns, which were trained in the direction from which the torpedo came. The civilian crew took to the lifeboats as the vessel settled slowly. The gunners remained aboard until 1:30 o'clock the next afternoon, when the seas were breaking over the gun platform. The Lucia did not finally disappear beneath the waves until 3:20 p. m., October 18th.

After sinking the Lucia, the former Deutschland cruised towards the Azores, and did not reach Kiel until November 15, four days after the armistice.

There was one other submarine assigned to operate in American waters, and which started out from Kiel, late in August, for this purpose. This was the U-152, a large craft of the Deutschland type, commanded by KapitÄn-Leutnant Franz. Though she never got within hundreds of miles of our coast, on September 30th she sank the animal transport Ticonderoga, and caused the largest loss of life any of our ships sustained in action. But this took place in the Eastern Atlantic, latitude 43°-05' north, longitude 38°-43' west, nearer Europe than America. It was the U-152 with which the U. S. S. George G. Henry had a two-hour running fight on September 29th, in which the Henry came off victor. This was not far from the point where the Ticonderoga went down.

The nearest point she came to the United States was on October 13th, when she sank the Norwegian bark Stifinder, in latitude 37°-22' north, longitude 53°-30' west, 600 miles or more from our coast.

Next to attacking vessels, the most menacing activity of the U-boats was mine-laying. They sowed mines at various points from Cape Hatteras to Nova Scotia and mine-fields were discovered off Fire Island, N. Y.; Barnegat, N. J.; Five Fathom Bank, near the entrance to Delaware River; Fenwick Island, off the Delaware Coast; Winter Quarter Shoal and the Virginia Capes, and Wimble Shoals, near the North Carolina coast. Single mines were picked up at other points. Every protective measure possible was employed against them. A fleet of mine-sweepers was constantly engaged in sweeping channels and entrances to harbors, and every point where there was reason to believe mines might be laid. Fifty-nine vessels were engaged in this duty, most of them assigned to the districts which handled the largest volume of shipping.

Naval vessels and the larger merchantmen carried paravanes, which swept up mines and carried them off from the vessel, where they could be destroyed. But even the paravanes were not always effective.

It was one of these floating mines which sank the cruiser San Diego July 19, 1918, off Fire Island. The battleship Minnesota struck one of them at night, September 29th, at 3:15 a. m., twenty miles from Fenwick Island Shoals lightship. Though the explosion, under her starboard bow, seriously damaged the hull and flooded the forward compartments, the Minnesota proceeded to port under her own steam, arriving at 7:45 p. m. at the Philadelphia Navy Yard, where she was docked and repaired.

The British steamship Mirlo was blown up off Wimble Shoal buoy, near Cape Hatteras, at 3:30 p. m., August 16th. The ship, which was loaded with gasoline, took fire, and one explosion after another occurred, breaking the vessel in two. The San Saba, formerly the Colorado, was sunk off Barnegat, October 4th. Struck amidships, the vessel practically broke in two, and sank in fire minutes. The Chaparra, a Cuban steamer, was blown up ten miles from Barnegat Light, October 27th.

The U. S. cargo steamer Saetia (Lieutenant Commander W. S. Lynch), bound for Philadelphia from France, was sunk by a mine on November 9th, two days before the armistice. The ship was ten miles southeast of Fenwick Island Shoals when an explosion occurred under No. 2 hatch, which shattered the vessel and sent it down. Besides the crew there were aboard 11 army officers and 74 soldiers. All were rescued.

Enemy mines, scattered, as they were, over a thousand miles, would undoubtedly have taken a much greater toll of shipping if the Navy had not been so energetic in sweeping mines and destroying them whenever they appeared.

Summarizing the entire operations of German submarines which were assigned to American waters, 79 vessels were sunk by gunfire or bombs. Of these 17 were steamers, the others being sailing vessels, most of them small schooners and motor boats. Of the 14 steamers torpedoed, but two were American, the Ticonderoga and Lucia, both of which were sunk far out in the Atlantic, hundreds of miles from our shores. Of the seven vessels mined, one, the Minnesota, got to port under her own steam, and another, the tanker Herbert L. Pratt, was salvaged, both being repaired and put back into service. Several vessels sunk or bombed by submarine were later recovered and repaired, including the big steamer Frederick R. Kellogg.

Only nine American steamers were lost by submarine activities in American waters—the Winneconne, 1,869 tons; Texel, 3,210; Carolina, 5,093; Pinar del Rio, 2,504; O. B. Jennings, 10,289; Merak (ex-Dutch), 3,024 tons, all destroyed by direct attack; and the San Diego, 13,680 tons displacement; the San Saba, 2,458, and the Saetia, 2,873 gross tons, sunk by mines—a total tonnage of 45,000.

In their chief mission of preventing transportation to Europe, the U-boats failed utterly. The flow of troops, supplies and munitions to France and England was not for a moment interrupted. In fact, it was precisely this period in which it was increased, and we transported to Europe over 300,000 soldiers per month.

Not one troop-convoy was even attacked. So well were all convoys protected by naval escort that the submarines avoided them. Furthermore, they avoided all naval vessels and when one was sighted, the "sub" instantly submerged, usually when the man-of-war was miles away. This made it difficult for our ships even to get a shot at them.

They had thousands of miles of water to cruise in, and could choose their own field of operations. Driven from one point, they shifted to another, often disappearing for days, then emerging in some locality hundreds of miles from where they were last seen. If the U-boats were generally able to elude for months the thousands of British, French and American patrol and escort craft in narrow European waters, how much more difficult it was to run down the few, on this side of the ocean, who could range from Nova Scotia to the Gulf of Mexico. Though we needed the best and all the patrol craft we could get, not one of our destroyers or any other vessel was recalled from Europe. In fact, more were sent over to reinforce them. Operating for months with submarines of the largest type, the Germans failed to achieve any real military success, and while they sank many small craft and a substantial amount of ocean shipping, and cut a few cables, their raids on the American coast had no effect whatever upon the trend of the war.