A Gunner Aboard the "Yankee": From the Diary of Number Five of the After Port Gun (Russell Doubleday): The Yarn of the Cruise and Fights of the Naval Reserves in the Spanish-American WarDoubleday, Russell
History
A Gunner Aboard the "Yankee": From the Diary of Number Five of the After Port Gun (Russell Doubleday): The Yarn of the Cruise and Fights of the Naval Reserves in the Spanish-American War
Doubleday, Russell
Spanish-American War, 1898 -- Juvenile fiction
Rumors were rife that we would be bound for New York shortly, but few
believed them; the circulators themselves certainly did not, of that we
felt sure.
"The idea!" said "Mourner," who, though ready to swallow most rumoristic
pills, could not manage this one. "Go to New York with eighty bags of
mail for the Santiago fleet! I can see us doing it."
[Illustration: "THE SPAR DECK WAS COVERED WITH RED SHELLAC"]
[Illustration: "THE MARINES AIRED THEIR HAMMOCKS ON THE FORECASTLE
DECK"]
"Taps" sounded at nine o'clock, and we were glad enough to turn in.
When all hands were called, I rubbed my eyes in astonishment, for as I
glanced out of the deadlight near which my hammock swung, I saw that we
were under way and well out to sea. I put on my togs in a hurry, and
after lashing and stowing my "dream bag," rushed on deck.
Yes, sure enough, we were at sea.
"Stump" came and grabbed me round the waist--he could hardly reach
higher. "We're bound for New York," said he. "We met the 'St. Paul'
going in and the signal boys say we signalled, 'We have urgent orders to
proceed to New York.' What do you think of that?" he added,
breathlessly.
"With eighty bags of mail for the Santiago fleet," said I, thinking of
the poor fellows who were longing with all their hearts for those same
bags.
"Regular navy style," added "Stump."
Though it was hard on our friends off Santiago we could not be cast
down, and the near prospect of liberty--of an opportunity to see home
and friends, of again setting foot on shore--transformed the entire
crew.
Everywhere could be seen smiling faces. Laughter and merry chatter
filled the air, and the rollicking songs written by "Steve" and others
were more in evidence than ever. The daily routine of work seemed
lighter. There was no grumbling, no fault finding; even the interminable
task of shifting coal was carried on with actual cheerfulness. Grimy
hands and blackened faces and tired bodies were forgotten.
"There's a mighty good dinner waiting for me in the dear old house,"
exclaimed "Stump," unctuously. "I can sniff it afar. And say, fellows,
won't we forget--for a few hours at least--that such things as reveille
and scrub and wash clothes and coal humping and salt-horse exist on
earth?"
"Oh, good Mr. Captain, how long will it be before we hear the welcome
call, 'Shift into clean blue, the liberty party!' and find ourselves
piling over the side," groaned "Hay."
"You will be glad enough to come back to your Uncle Samuel," grinned
"Steve." "When your time is up you will be waiting for the boat."
"No doubt," replied Flagg. "We will be ready to complete our time of
service, but there are some, if rumor speaks the truth--"
He finished with a significant wink.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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