oung bluejacket had been hit twice. He was carrying a shell to the
gun when he caught the second one--a piece of flying shell in his
shoulder. He laid his own shell on the deck to see how about it, and got
hit again; this time in what our navy calls the stern sheets. That made
him mad. He shook his fist toward the sub. "No damn' German's going to
hit me three times and get away with it." He grabbed his shell off the
deck and slammed it into the gun-breech. "Hand it to 'em, Joe!" he
yelled to the gun-pointer. Joe did his best, but he didn't have the
gun--the shot splashed where most of them had, about half a mile short
of the sub.

Still pouring the black smoke out of our funnels, we leaped toward the
_Luckenbach_ and hailed her through the megaphone when we breasted her.
She hailed back that she had water in her afterhold and fire in her
forehold, and gave us the number of her wounded. Two of the three
wounded bluejackets were injured seriously. We could see them stretched
out under the gun.

We were steaming around the _Luckenbach_ at twenty knots while we were
hailing: this in case the sub took it in her head to pop up again and
catch us slowed down. We did slow down and stop when it came time to
clear away a whale-boat and send it over to the steamer with our senior
watch-officer and the surgeon, with the needful surgical supplies.

We continued to steam circles around the steamer all the time they were
aboard, with our lookouts keeping eyes skinned for the U-boat. By her
manner of shelling the steamer after he had opened fire our skipper
judged she was a tough one. She did show once while we were circling the
_Luckenbach_. Her periscope popped up about a mile abeam of us. It may
have popped up again--it was getting to be a nice little choppy sea good
for sub work and no saying that it was not--but we only sighted it once,
and then it did not linger.

The sea was growing lumpy when the whale-boat came bouncing back with
our senior officer. It was right about the _Luckenbach_ having nine
injured, but all would get well. The doctor was looking after them. She
was a cotton steamer. The kid who had been hit twice was all right. He
was walking around deck with his cap over his port ear and proud as
Billy-be-Damn'--three times wounded by German shell fire and got away
with it!

The fire in the forehold? Most of it was from two old mattresses--at
least that was all he found.

"Did you put the fire out?"

"Yes, sir.