friends, although they had many a laugh while watching us
prepare our bunks. They were asked for every bit of information we could
think of about the boat--"How fast it could go," "How long it was"--and
many other questions about the sea, and their experiences. We found out
that the name of the boat was the "S. S. Louisville," formerly the "St.
Louis," that it was 564 ft. long, and carried 3500 men. On asking how
many miles the boat could make in an hour, we were assured that "it was
the speediest ship in the convoy."

By this time we heard mess-call, and began to look for a line. Men were
running upstairs and down, and hurried questions flew from everyone as
to when and where the men with his color of tag were eating. Each color
had a certain time to eat. There were four colors, two eating at one
time. The men filed in to the dining room from each side of the main
deck through two large double doors. There were four long tables and we
stood up to eat, moving along the table as the men ahead finished eating
and moved out to wash their mess-kits in large sinks, just before
leaving the room. It was very interesting to see the systematic way in
which the men moved along, taking a mouth-full as they pushed their
mess-kits up the table.

As we were strolling on deck that afternoon, a low grumbling sound met
our ears, as if it came from some place far below. Then it turned into a
rythmatical chug of a large engine, and we knew that the boat was
getting up steam preparatory for the trip. The sailor-boys, too, were
making preparations for "Jerry." They carried large shells and deposited
them in cases behind the guns, and as we watched them work, we wondered
if there would ever be a real necessity to use them during the trip.

Evening found everyone knowing the boat almost by heart, and we began to
gather in groups on deck and look about. To the rear lay New York, the
tall buildings outlined against the sky. Numerous tug-boats were slowly
winding their way in and out of the docks. One of the sailors leaning
against the rail pointed out to us the former German ship "Vaterland,"
in a dock across the river. We were entertained for awhile by watching a
bunch of negro waiters for the officers mess shooting dice, and a
quartet gave us a few songs. But night soon came, and we went below to
try our new bunks. One of the boys no sooner found the trick that one
could play, than he immediately dislodged the man above him, by putting
his