We have evidence--conclusive even though somewhat ludicrous--that the American device on a British destroyer "got" one of these submarines. One dark night this vessel, equipped with the C-tube, had pursued a submarine and bombed it with what seemed to have been satisfactory results. However, I have several times called attention to one of the most discouraging aspects of anti-submarine warfare: that only in exceptional circumstances did we know whether the submarine had been destroyed. This destroyer was now diligently searching the area of the battle, the listeners straining every nerve for traces of her foe. For a time everything was utterly silent; then, suddenly, the listener picked up a disturbance of an unusual kind. The noise rapidly became louder, but it was still something very different from any noise ever heard before. The C-tube consisted of a lead pipe--practically the same as a water pipe--which was dropped over the side of the ship fifteen or twenty feet into the sea; this pipe contained the wires which, at one end, were attached to the devices under the water, and which, at the other end, reached the listener's ears. In a few seconds this tube showed signs of lively agitation. It trembled violently and made a constantly increasing hullabaloo in the ears of the listener. Finally a huge German, dripping with water like a sea lion, appeared over the side of the destroyer and astounded our British Allies by throwing up his arms with "Kamerad!" This visitant from the depths was the only survivor of the submarine which it now appeared had indubitably been sunk. He had been blown through the conning tower, or had miraculously escaped in some other way--he did not himself know just what had taken place--and while floundering around in the water in the inky darkness had, by one of those providences which happen so frequently in war time, caught hold of this tube, and proceeded to pull himself up hand-over-hand until he reached the deck. Had it not been for his escape, the British would never have known that they had sunk the submarine! This survivor, after shaking off the water, sat down and became very sociable. He did not seem particularly to dislike the British and Americans, but he was extremely bitter against the Italians and Austrians--the first for "deserting" the Germans, the latter for proving bad allies. "How do you get on with the Italians?" he asked the British officer. "Very well indeed," the latter replied, giving a very flattering account of the Italian allies. "I guess the Italians are about as useful to you as the Austrians are to us," the German sea lion replied. In writing to our officers about this episode, the British commander said: "We have found a new use for your listening devices--salvaging drowning Huns." VI On September 28, 1918, Captain Nelson received the following communication from the commander of the Allied naval forces at Brindisi, Commodore W. A. H. Kelly, R.N.: