"At Havre the French authorities took the mate's pictures out of the cameraw, and they never did give 'em back. Except for that, it was a fine pleasure, that land cruise 'ome. "Lucky? Oh, aye, you may well say it. Three times in one week I 'ad me 'ot barth and my lovely sleep in me brahss bed--it's not to be looked for with ordinary luck, you know." * * * * * One day the destroyer to which I was assigned put to sea. There were other destroyers, and we were to take a fleet of merchantmen from the naval base to such and such a latitude and longitude, and there turn them loose. My friend's ship was of the convoy. We made such and such a latitude and longitude, and there we turned them loose, signalling the position to them and waiting for acknowledgment. They acknowledged the signal. We then hoisted the three pennants which everywhere at sea means: Pleasant voyage! They answered with the three pennants which everywhere spells: Thank you. And no sooner done than away they belted, each for himself, and let the U-boats get the hindmost. The hindmost here was the rusty old cargo boat of my friend. I could see her for miles after the others were hull down; and long after I could see her I could picture him--walking his lonely bridge and his ship plugging away at her 7 or maybe 7-1/2 knots across the lonely ocean. Three times torpedoed and taking it all as part of his work! Some day they may get him and he not come back; and when they do the world will hear little about him. Hero? He a hero? Why a shore-going flunky had him bluffed for smoking a surreptitious cigarette in high quarters! 'Ero? Not 'im. Why 'e don't even wear a uniform. So there they are, the wheezing old cargo boats and their officers and crew. British, French, Italian, American, but mostly British. No heroes, but the Lord help their people if they hadn't stayed on the job. FLOTILLA HUMOR--AT SEA We were a group of American destroyers convoying twenty home-bound British steamers. There was one ship, a _P. & O._ liner, a great specimen of camouflaging. She was the only ship in the convoy that was camouflaged, and she rode in stately style two lengths out in front of the others. All of which made her a prominent object. Our officers felt like telling her to dress back; but she had a British commodore aboard, and for an American two or three striper to try to advise a British commodore--well, it isn't done. All day long she rode out in front of the column, and all day long our fellows kept saying things about her. "Isn't she the chesty one!" "Look at the big squab with all that war-paint on--how does she expect any U-boat to overlook her?" "That big loafer, she'd better watch out or she'll be getting hers before the day's gone!"