ver_, which is the service name for
the smaller class of destroyers, the 750-ton ones.

In our navy there are plenty of young officers who will tell you that
they never built destroyers which keep the sea better than that same
little flivver class. Young Captain Chisholm of the 323 was one.

One morning, having convoyed a fleet of merchant ships safely up the
channel, the 323 was one of a group of destroyers making the best of
their way to their base port. Officers and men who have been hunting
U-boats for a week or so do not like to linger along the road home; so
it was every young captain giving his ship all the steam she could stand
and let her belt.

It was breaking white water all around when they started. It grew
rougher. Chisholm in the 323 was going along at twenty knots when a
poker-playing chum came along in his big 1,000-ton destroyer. Her nose
hauled up on the quarter of the 323; up to her beam; up to her bridge.
As he passed the 323--and he passed quite close to let all hands view
the passing--the poker-playing friend leaned out and megaphoned across:

"What you making, Chiz?"

"Twenty knots!" hailed back Chisholm.

"I am seeing your twenty knots and raising you five!" returned the
other, and passed on.

"The boiler-riveted nerve of him!" gasped Chiz. "But let him wait!"

The sea grew yet rougher. The 323 was bouncing pretty lively, but
hanging onto her twenty knots. "And at twenty you let her hang if she
rolls her crow's nest under!" said Chisholm to his watch-officer, "and
I'll betcher we won't be acting rudder to this bunch going into port!"

It was at ten in the morning that the big one had passed them. It was
four in the afternoon, and the 323 was still going along at twenty knots
when from out of the drizzle ahead her bridge made out the stern and
funnels of a destroyer. It was Chiz's poker-playing chum, and his ship
was making heavy weather of it. The able little 323 came up to her
stern; breasted her waist, her bridge, and as he passed her (and he came
quite close to let all hands view the passing), young Captain Chisholm
leaned out from his bridge and roared through a long megaphone: "I
_call_ yuh!"

He beat the big one fifty minutes into the naval base.

* * * * *

There are two channels leading into the naval base port--call them West
and East. This same Chisholm was one day headed for port in the usual
hurry and was already well into the west channel