l noise which completely drowned the human
voice. Frightful horror was depicted on all faces. It took some time to
rally from the oppressive, heartrending sensation caused by the
knowledge that a peaceful maneuver voyage had suddenly been transformed
into the bloody seriousness of war. It is easy enough to turn a machine
from right to left in a few seconds with the aid of a lever, but not so
a human being.

The men, to be sure, heard the commands and after a few moments'
reflection, grasped the terrible truth, but their limbs failed them. It
had all come about too quickly, and it was simply impossible to get
control of the situation and translate commands into deeds as quickly as
the hostile shots demolished things above deck. Many of the crew stood
around as though they were rooted to the spot, staring straight in front
of them. Some laughed or cried, others did absolutely senseless things,
such as turning the valves of the hot-air pipes or carrying useless
things from one place to another, until the energetic efforts of the
officers brought them to their senses.

Someone called for the keys of the ammunition chambers, and then began a
search for the ordnance officer in the passages filled with the
poisonous fumes of the Shimose-powder. But it was all in vain, for he
lay on the front bridge torn into an unrecognizable mass by the enemy's
shells.

At last a young lieutenant with the blood pouring down his cheek in
bright red streaks, rushed into the captain's cabin, broke open the
closet beside the desk with a bayonet and seized the keys of the
ammunition rooms. Now down the stairs and through the narrow openings in
the bulkheads, where the thud of the hostile projectiles sounds more and
more hollow, and here, at last, is the door of the shell-chamber
containing the shells for the 8-inch guns in the forward starboard
turret.

Inside the bells rang and rattled, calling in vain for ammunition; but
the guns of the _Connecticut_ still remained silent.

The petty officer, hurrying on before his three men, now stood at the
telephone.

"Armor-piercing shells, quickly!" came the urgent order from above. And
when the electric lever refused to work, the two sailors raised the
shell weighing over two hundredweight in their brawny arms and shoved it
into the frame of the lift, which began to move automatically.

"Thank God," said the lieutenant in command of the turret, as the first
shell appeared at the mouth of the dark