The Navy men, wearing uniforms of blue with red stripes, walked out first, closely followed by the army in uniforms of grey-green. The admiral, towering straight and tall above his entourage, threw the ball. A pandemonium of yells broke forth. "Now's the time, give it to 'em, boys, soak it to 'em, soak it to 'em, steady Army, give him a can, run Smithie!" In a corner by themselves, a group of bluejackets made a fearful noise with some kind of whirligig rattles. Songs rose in spots from the audience, collided with other songs, and melted away in indistinguishable tunes. British Tommies looked on phlegmatically, enjoying it all just the same. There were stray, mocking cat calls. It was a real effort to bring one's self back to London, old London of decorous cricket, tea, and white flannels. And of course, the Navy won. Over the heads of the vanishing crowd floated, Give 'em the axe, the axe, the axe, Where? Where? Where? Right in the neck, the neck, the neck, There! There! There! Who gets the axe? ARMY Who says so! NAVY It ends with a roar. Then there is a celebration, and the next morning, his holiday over, Jack is rounded up, and put into a railway carriage. The roofs of London die away, and Jack, dozing over his magazines, sees in a dream the great grey shapes of the battleships that wait for him in the endless northern rain. 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.