* * * * *
Too little was heard during the war of the work of the American
submarines, but they performed most efficient and useful service. A
sketch of the life aboard one of these little vessels follows.
WITH THE AMERICAN SUBMARINES
HENRY B. BESTON
[Sidenote: A view of the Embankment.]
A London day of soft and smoky skies, darkened every now and then by
capricious and intrusive little showers, was drawing to a close in a
twilight of gold and gray. Our table stood in a bay of plate-glass
windows overlooking the Embankment close by Cleopatra's Needle. We
watched the little double-decked tram-cars gliding by, the opposing,
interthreading streams of pedestrians, and a fleet of coal barges coming
up the river, solemn as a cloud.
[Sidenote: Submarine folk are a people apart.]
Behind us lay, splendid and somewhat theatric, the mottled marble, stiff
white napery, and bright silver of a fashionable dining-hall. Only a few
guests were at hand. At our little table sat the captain of a submarine
who was then in London for a few days on richly merited leave, a
distinguished young officer of the "mother ship" accompanying our
underwater craft, and myself. It is impossible to be long with submarine
folk without realizing that they are a people apart, differing from the
rest of the naval personnel even as their vessels differ. A man must
have something individual to his character to volunteer for the service,
and every officer is a volunteer.
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