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
"Self-laudation is bad form," spoke up Flagg, "but I think the Naval
Reserves who are manning the different auxiliary cruisers--the
'Yosemite,' 'Prairie,' 'Dixie,' 'Badger,' 'Yankee,' and the monitors--as
well as those serving on board the regular ships, should be given credit
for their patriotism."
"The boys will get it when the time comes," remarked "Stump,"
confidently. "And while we are waiting we'll just carry a little more
coal. Get in line there."
Kennedy, all this time, was bearing up under his trouble splendidly, and
when the launch of the hospital ship "Solace" came alongside to take him
away, we could hardly repress a cheer. He was lowered over the side in a
chair. As the launch steamed away, carrying Kennedy and two other
shipmates who had been overcome by heat, there was a lump in many a
throat.
It was not until almost dark the next day that the bunkers were filled.
At three bells (half-past five o'clock) we dropped the collier and
steamed to sea en route down the coast. Shortly after ten the "Yankee"
passed the fleet off Santiago. The electric searchlights in use on the
ships nearer shore made a particularly brilliant display. The rays were
turned directly upon the entrance to the harbor, and it was plainly
evident that not even a small boat could emerge without being
discovered.
All day Sunday we steamed out of sight of land, our course being to the
westward and our speed a good fourteen knots.
For four hours in the morning we scrubbed the gun deck, washed the white
paint work with fresh water and soap, scrubbed the deck with stiff
"kiyi" brushes, and polished off the bright work. By noon the deck had
its pristine immaculate look. We were in the midst of the sloppy job
when "forecastle Murray" (one of the Murray twins--they looked so much
alike that the invariable greeting in the morning was "How are you,
Murray--or are you your brother?") came aft for a bucket of fresh water.
"What do you think of this?" he inquired pugnaciously. "Here we are
scrubbing this blooming gun deck to beat the band, cleaning up the dirt
of a two day's coaling, and now, forsooth, we are ploughing through the
water at a fourteen or fifteen knot gait and burning up that coal almost
as fast as we put it in."
He disappeared up the galley ladder, grumbling as he went.
"Another county heard from," said "Stump." "It does seem rather tough,
but here goes"--he gave a vicious jerk to the hose he was handling and
the stream caught "Hay" full in the neck, whereupon "Hay" saw to it that
"Stump" had a salt-water bath.
By the time "mess gear" was piped, the ship was very clean, so during
the afternoon we were left largely to our own devices. Some wrote
letters, though the possibility of sending them or of receiving answers
was very remote. Others gathered in little knots and read or sewed, and
still others took advantage of the time to "caulk off" and make up some
lost sleep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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