Brighton Boys in the Radio Service Read online

  CHAPTER X

  FRANCE AT LAST

  From that moment the watch on each vessel in the fleet was redoubled,and there was constant speculation, especially among the soldiers, as towhether another submarine would be sighted, and, if so, under whatcircumstances.

  They had now abandoned the zig-zagging course and were taking a directroute around the north of Ireland and toward the North Channel.

  On the following morning two additional destroyers bore down upon themfrom opposite points off the bow almost simultaneously, and as they cameboth code-telegraphed their identity. With these extra convoys it seemedindeed unlikely that a submarine would get near them, or, if it did,would attempt to do other than make its own safe escape.

  Fair Head, at the northeast corner of Ireland, gave them their firstsight of land since they had left the shores of America; and for many ofthem this first glimpse of Erin's Isle brought with it the sentimentalthrill of seeing the country where their parents had been born and spenttheir youth--for there was many a lad of Irish ancestry aboard the_Everett_.

  Rounding Fair Head without mishap or contact with a submarine, thedanger from that source was practically over. The convoy was reduced toa cruiser and destroyer, and thus they laid a southeasterly course towhat your old-time sailor would have described as "a piping breeze."

  They flanked the Isle of Man off its westward coast, and thence speddirectly across the Irish Sea and into the harbor of Liverpool.

  Their arrival was unannounced. It was only one of many, and a thing towhich the people of that and other cities of England and France hadbecome quite accustomed. Nevertheless they welcomed the hosts of UncleSam in the warmest manner, and in every possible way showed the deepsense of appreciation and feeling of increased safety with which theyviewed the arrival of more and more thousands of American troops intheir land, on their way to the trenches of France to help conquer thecommon enemy.

  But there was not much time to be spent in Liverpool. Indeed, they hadscarcely become accustomed to feeling their feet on solid ground againbefore the order to march was given, and they left the river front to goto the railroad station.

  There they received a plain but substantial meal, were inspected andadmired by their British cousins, and then boarded the long troop trainthat already awaited them.

  "Take your seats, Yankees!" shouted the bearded conductor jovially, andthe boys piled in.

  The details of that ride through England the boys from Brighton neverwill forget, although it was a long and tiring trip from Liverpool allthe way to Dover, on the channel which separates England from themainland of Europe.

  They crossed fair fields and beautiful streams that reminded them oftheir own native land, and came within view of giant ancient forests.They passed through cities and towns and again came out into the opencountry.

  Occasionally there were stops, when the soldiers were allowed to leavethe train "to give their legs a stretch." At such times they weregreeted affectionately on all sides by the men and women of England.

  "Hi say, Slim, old top," Jerry imitated good-naturedly as they boardedthe train again after one of these delays. "Hi say, did you 'ear that'andsome little Hinglisher out there say as 'ow 'ealthy you looked?"

  "Did 'e?" asked Slim, grinning.

  "'E did," answered Jerry. And then, winking to Joe. "But 'e added, oldtop, that 'e thought you looked a trifle 'eavy."

  Only the sudden jolt of the starting train saved Jerry from the wallopthat Slim directed at him; and had it landed, Jerry doubtless would havefound it "a trifle 'eavy," also.

  There was a general laugh from the others in the car, for all three ofthe boys from Brighton had become immensely popular with theircompanions in arms, all of whom by this time had become well accustomedto this sort of gentle fun between the red-headed Jerry and "the'ealthy, 'eavy lad" called Slim.

  When they had been riding for another hour they came upon one of thosevast English concentration camps where thousands of young Britons werebeing trained and equipped for war.

  As the train slowly, very slowly, passed around the outer edge of thiscamp, England saluted America, and America saluted England throughtheir fearless young warriors. The young Britons shouted, waved flags,threw their hats into the air and sang. And the Americans, hanging fromthe car windows, and crowded out upon the platforms and steps, returnedthe demonstration with something for good measure.

  From this point forward the journey constantly was punctuated by scenesand incidents significant of war. Here was an ambulance and Red Crossunit mobilizing for removal to the very heart of smoke and battle andbloodshed; there stood a row of houses whose battered roofs andtottering walls testified to a ruthless aerial night raid of theGermans.

  It fired the blood of the Americans as they were reminded that thesemeagre evidences of Boche barbarity were as nothing compared to thedeliberate and vicious ruin wrought in Belgium and northern France.

  Dover at last--the channel port which marked the beginning of the lastlap of their journey to France! The boys hardly could wait until thetrain came to a stop, to get a glimpse of the water, across which laythe scene of the bloodiest war in all history--a war in which they wereto take an important part.

  "They say this channel is awfully choppy," said Slim apprehensively, asthey left the car. "Do you think, Jerry, that we're likely to getseasick again?"

  "Don't know," responded Jerry, also somewhat dubiously, "but there's oneconsolation about it--it's only a short trip."

  Never had the three boys from Brighton anticipated such co-ordinatedefficiency in the workings of a war machine. They had expected longdelays, frequent disappointments and protracted periods of trainingbefore they should reach the front-line trenches.

  Instead, they experienced consistent progress, many pleasant surprisesand few disappointments; and now, upon reaching Dover, they soon learnedthat if it was at all possible they would board a transport that samenight for the French side of the channel.

  From the train they were marched to a great cantonment on the edge ofthe city. The procession there was like a triumphant march, with throngslined along the streets to cheer them as they passed.

  For more than a year before, enemy propaganda in the United States hadconstantly preached that England was weary of the war. This did not looklike it. The very atmosphere breathed the spirit of "carry on," ofrenewed determination to fight to a finish.

  Amid such a spirit the Brighton boys reached the cantonment and after ahasty roll-call sat down to what they one and all pronounced a "finefeed."

  They rested for several hours and then were again ordered to fall in.The march was begun to the docks, where three steamers to be used astransports were being loaded with provisions and ammunition.

  Together with other American troops which had been awaiting theirarrival, they went aboard the transports, but it was not till long aftermidnight that they were under way.

  Not a light was permitted on board. Not even the officers were allowedto strike a match or to smoke. No unnecessary noises were permitted, andthe whole proceeding spoke of the secrecy of war work and the danger ofrevealing their plans or their whereabouts to any prowling enemy.

  With the dawn, scores of the men were on deck, including Joe, Jerry andSlim--and they were well within sight of land. Preparations alreadywere being made for their landing, and a great excitement prevailed oneach of the ships. Their long-held hopes were coming to fruition.

  France at last!