1940-07-06 — Page 10

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THE CHINA MAIL, JULY 6, 1940

SPLASH.... SPLASH

...SPLASH

ON BOARD A MİNELAYER AT BEA. they call the mining deck with its

splash... splash. "rails where the monsters

ward to be toppled into the deep.

"Splash In a quiet voice which might be a shop assistant checking the takings.

Over the stern, precise to the second, they topple one after another as the "dropping bell" regularly sounds as a score of hands expertly manhandle the mines on their guide-lines, as each big splash into the

green satin and cream of our wake sounds.....

"Splash

says the officer with the stop-watch, aloud, completing in this too simple statement the mine- layer's routine, most dangerous to seamen, building an accurate defence rampart in the deep.

.

"1

Out in the North Sea this morning, roaming the minelayer, I have made all the acquaintance of men from parts and from all sorts of walks in the old safe life of peace-bus drivers, postmen, laboratory workers, electri- cians. Some were reservists, others were merchants seamen, others re- gular Royal Navy, others are youths at sea for the first time.

TORPEDO OFFICER'S REMINDER

"I would remind you," says a tor- pedo officer in charge of the business end of the laying, in a little speech made as every man-jack counts the seconds to zero hour, "that you are mine-laying, and the presence of strangers on board (meaning your ser- vants the Press) must not distract your minds for a moment from your job."

Do not imagine, though, that any- thing can distract these men, so close- ly and happily moulded together in a

☐☐☐◊☐◊☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐*#*#*#*#*#0###*D*D*! | ship's company for the most adven-

DRINK

EWO PILSNER

EAT AT-

It Refreshes and Invigorates

Jimmy's Kitchen

INEXPENSIVE SATISFYING

Bringing Up Father

ISN'T IT STRANGE HOW SOME OF THESE INDIAN WOMEN DRESS HERE IN :. OKLAHOMA CITY? I SAW ONE WITH A PLUG HAT WITH A FEATHER

IN IT-

JOLLY. ODD, FLL

SAY -AND 1. UNDERSTAND

THEY OWN OL FELDS AND ARE VERY

RICH-

1

YEP-1 SAW ONE WITH- THE FUNNIEST GIT-UP. SHE HAD FEATHERS

ALL AROUND A PLUG HAT AND SHE WIZ COVERED WITH BEADS-

turous and skilful of operations--not hundreds of loaded mines on the mine deck, not the possibilities of the enemy torpedo waiting for them at their des- tination at the minefield, not the thought of what one bomb from hostile aircraft can do to this ship, whose cargo is T.N.T.

Out here, in the pale afternoon light, I experienced for the first time the tension of front-line action.

"Splash

•

CURTAIN OF DEATH IN THE WAKE

splash

splash .." counts the officer, and every man in the ship remains alert, tense, eager. We are unloading our mines, port and The starboard, in quick succession. boiling swell of our wake, now con- ceals an orderly curtain of death, a pattern completing the hidden ram- parts which guard our coast.

|

slide- for-

Up on the bridge telescopes and binoculars are searching the sea. We signal to and fro to our two escorting destroyers. We keep an eye open for our escorting aircraft and wonder whether they have mislaid us.

an exclamation Suddenly there is from the port look-out, a message flashed from the starboard escort, and a man with a telescope next me mut- ters, "Yes, I think I can see it. Ahead there. Either a submarine or a bird on the water."

One of the escorting warships carves across our bows, flashing up heavy plumes of sea.

·

"How many mines still to go?" "Plenty."

"Now watch," says the man with the telescope. "Watch out for the line of a torpedo."

THE DESTROYER SIGNALS "NEGATIVE"

I think of them down in the mining deck astern with their precious eggs of high explosive. They carry on; but

·By- A SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT

they are also ready with our depth charges.

"Listen for the destroyer's depth charges now."

Slantwise she flays through the sea and with magical speed slews round to a course ahead of us. Even as she does so she ran up the signal negative. "Whew!" Nobody says that audibly except me.

"How many more mines to go?" "Twenty-five, sir.”

I watch the imprint of the stern- most man's wet glove on the black belly of the toppling mine. He is get- ting a drenching out there, helping each one with a last pat, and speed- ing the last one of all with a valedic- tory spit.

You should see the messages the boys chalk on them when primer and detonator are in, and they are lined up there in the mining deck for the "This is the only zeal I have left," voyage out. Standing forward we look a reservist ex-poultry farmer, exin- toward the open gap of the stern, at surance man, second torpedo officer four even rows of the monsters, like said just now. "I have got beyond car-linked trains on their rails. ing about myself, I only want to see that we make a good laying."

Grinning at me over his pince-nez, the ship's chef, Joe, is at his action station behind the first torpedo officer "recording" (counting the mines as they go). A few months ago he was cooking for luxury passengers in this ship in summer waters. He is more absorbed now even than when I saw him dominating the galley and his precious roast mutton just before

lunch.

"Thirty gone sir!"

"I leave "Clapham Junction,"

THIS CERTAINLY IS AN INTERESTING

TOWN THIS OKLAHOMA CITY-

as

When the strenuous work of load- ing is finished (they were doing it most of last night) the boys get busy with chalk borrowed from the mess.

The Bosun, evidently the ship's poet, inscribes on his choice:

I'm just a pill of British makė,

By national law designed To make old Hitler's navy quake

I'm anchored here an primed. There is more to that chant, though I hear a whisper that the presence of strangers on board has curbed breadth of inventive imagery.

(Continued on Page 11)

the

By George McManus

MY! WHAT AN INTERESTING DAY WE HAD SHOPPING-

Cope, 1940, King Postures Byndicats, Inc., Wacht eight servi