ccommodate the deck and engine-rooms officers--two
in each. Then there is a little box-cabin for the commander.

As the sun rises higher the commander goes into his cabin and soon after
emerges on deck. His coat and trousers are of black leather lined with
wool, a protection against oil, cold, and wet weather. The crew are at
their stations.

"Machines clear," comes a voice from the control-station.

"Clear ship," comes the order from the bridge, followed by "Cast off."

The cables hiss through the water and slap on the landing-stage; the
sound of purring fills the submarine which glides slowly into open
water. Into the bay comes another U-boat. Stories of her feat in sinking
a steamship loaded with mutton for England has preceded her. There has
been loss of life connected with that sinking, but this makes no
difference to the Teutonic mind, and the officer of the U-47-1/2 shouts
his congratulations.

Now the submarine is out in the open sea, the waves are heavy and the
vessel rolls uncomfortably. The craft, it may be remarked, is not the
craft for a pleasant sea-voyage. The two officers hanging onto the rails
turn their eyes seaward. The weather increases in severity. The officers
are lashed to the bridge. There they must stay; while the boat plies the
surface the bridge must not be left by the commander and his assistant.
Sometimes they remain thus on duty two and three days. Food is carried
to them and they eat it as they stand.

It may be that the commander is trying to balance a plate of heavy
German soup in his hand as a cry comes from a lookout.

"Smoke on the horizon, off the port bow, sir."

The commander withdraws from his food, shouts an order and an electric
alarm sounds inside the hull. The ship buzzes with activity. The guns on
deck are hastily housed. Bridge appurtenances are housed also, and
sailors dive down through the deck-holes. The commander follows. Water
begins to gurgle into the ballast-tanks while the crew seal every
opening. Down goes the U-47-1/2 until only her periscope shows, a
periscope painted sea-green and white--camouflaged. The eyes of the
watch-officer are glued to the periscope.

"She is a Dutchman, sir," he says at length. The commander steps to the
periscope and takes a look. The Dutchman has no wireless and is bound
for some continental port. It is not wise to sink every Dutch boat one
meets--although German submarines have sunk a sufficient number of them,
in all conscie