r conditions, with the
hundreds of wide-awake lookouts in the fleet, no U-boat could have put
up a periscope within any near distance and not be seen by somebody. As
for long-distance shots from submarines--there is small need to worry
about them. Subs like to get within a thousand yards or less. Those
three and four mile shots--it is like trying to hit a sea-gull with a
rifle. Amateurs try that kind of shooting, but the professional, who has
to reckon the cost of powder and shot, lets it pass. Not that the
Germans are sparing of the cost of war, but a sub which has to make a
voyage of three thousand miles to take on a fresh load of torpedoes is
not firing too many for the mere practice.

We drew near the coast of France, and still nothing had happened. We
were getting hails, of course, from the lookouts. There was one who
called it a dull watch when he did not see at least one periscope. He
had never seen a periscope in his life, but he had read about periscopes.
One night just at dark he stood us all on our heads by reporting one
just alongside. We all got a flash at it then, an ominous object, bobbing
under our port quarter, and then it went down into our wake. It bobbed up
again, and we all had another look. It was a beer-keg. The ship's first
officer, the one who had a gold medal as big as a saucer for saving life
at sea, eyed the keg, and then he eyed the lookout, saying: "An empty one
too! If you'd only report a full one, we might gaff it aboard."

When that same first officer was one day asked if he intended taking his
big medal with him in case we had to take to the boats, he replied: "With
twenty-eight persons in the boat! Good Lord, don't you think she'll be
carrying enough freight?"

We steamed along, dark night astern this time and the white morning
above our bow. The bridge--three naval and two ship's officers--had for
some time been using the glasses. From aloft forward came the sudden
yell: "Land ho!"

The bridge nodded that it heard. "Land ho!" repeated the lookout
stentoriously. "Two points off the port bow," and then, peering
doubtfully down at the bridge: "Am I right?"

"You are," said the bridge sweetly; "we've been looking at it for half
an hour." Which was rather rough, for to shore-going eyes land does at
first look like a low cloud on the horizon and, naturally, a fellow
wants to make sure.

Pretty soon we could most of us see it from the deck, and it did look
good. I once saw the flat, b