leak Atlantic coast of Patagonia after ten
days at sea, and the high iron wintry coast of Newfoundland after
another period at sea, and I clearly recall that even they both looked
like fine countries. And the coast of France was neither bleak nor icy,
so you may guess that it was a pleasing sight on this summer morning. It
was a dream of a day, the sea like a green-tinted mirror, the sky blue
as paint, and the softest little breath of air floating off the land to
us. We were perhaps ten miles offshore.

The enchanted land lay before us and our troubles behind us--or so we
thought--and yet we were many of us disappointed. After our more than
three thousand miles we had not even caught sight of a U-boat.

Now, we probably did not want to see one, but we sort of had an idea
that we were entitled to have one pop up and then disappear. Something
to talk about, without anybody coming to harm through it--that was about
our composite idea.

However, there are compensations for all things; we could now prepare
peacefully for going ashore. I was in the lounge-room below sharpening a
pencil, and, there being no waste-basket handy, carefully shunting the
shavings into a writing-desk drawer.

The fire-alarm rang. That was the signal to hurry on deck with your
life-belt, take your station by your boat, and prepare to abandon ship.
But we had been doing that every day since we left home. The first time
we heard that call we had gone jumping, but after the third or fourth
time we moved more leisurely.

Some took their life-belts from their rooms and started up. Every
soldier, of course, grabbed one from where they were piled up in the
passageways and went at once. They had no option. Their officers would
get after them if they did not.

I thought I would finish sharpening my pencil. I thought I heard a blast
from a ship's whistle somewhere outside; but I was not sure. Then I
heard a blast from our own ship's whistle. Wugh-wugh-wugh! I did not
wait for any more. I did not finish sharpening the pencil. I did not
wait to shut the desk drawer. I did not do anything but move. There were
six blasts from the whistle, and six blasts meant U-boats.

There was a heavy-set officer coming down the passageway. He was heavier
by twenty pounds than I was, but I had more speed. I know I had. Not
since the winter's day on George's Bank a quartering sea chased me down
the cabin companionway of the _Charles W. Parker_ of Gloucester have I
moved s