<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</SPAN></span></p>
<h2>STORY OF OUR FIRST SHOT</h2>
<p class="drop-cap">“I PICKED that shell right up as it came out of
the gun—I saw it go through the air in its flight,
and I saw it strike a foot in front of that periscope!”</p>
<p>That is the way Lieut. Bruce R. Ware, Jr., U. S. N.,
who commanded the gun crew of the steamship <i>Mongolia</i>,
told of the first American shot fired in the war
at a German submarine. He related the story at a
testimonial dinner given to him and to Capt. Emery
Rice, of the <i>Mongolia</i>, upon the arrival of the steamship
at New York. The dinner was attended by many persons
prominent in business, steamship, and naval circles,
some having traveled hundreds of miles to be present.
As reported by the New York <i>Times</i>, Lieutenant Ware
told the story as follows:</p>
<p>At 5:21 the chief officer walked out on the port
bridge. The captain and myself were on our heels
looking out through the port. I saw the chief officer
turn around, and you could have seen the whole ocean
written in his face, and his mouth that wide (indicating),
and he could not get it out. He finally said: “My God,
look at that submarine!”</p>
<p>The captain gripped my arm and said: “What is
that?” I said: “It is a submarine, and he has got
up.”</p>
<p>I followed the captain out on the bridge and I looked
at my gun crews. They were all agape. The lookout
was all agape. I threw in my starboard control and I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</SPAN></span>
said: “Captain, zigzag.” I did not tell him which way
to go. We had that all doped out. The captain starboarded
his helm and the ship turned to port and we
charged him (the <i>U</i>-boat) and made him go under. I
went up on top of the chart house with my phones on,
and I had a long, powerful glass, ten power. Right
underneath it I always lashed my transmitter, so that
where I was my transmitter went, and I didn’t have to
worry or hunt for it. It was always plugged in, and I
said:</p>
<p>“No. 3 gun, after gun, train on the starboard quarter,
and when you see a submarine and periscope or conning
tower, report.”</p>
<p>The gun crew reported control. “We see it—no, no—it
has gone. There it is again.” I picked it up at that
moment with my high-powered glass, and I gave them
the range—1,000 yards. Scale 50. She was about 800
yards away from us. I gave the order, “No. 3 gun, fire,
commence firing.”</p>
<p>I had my glasses on them, gentlemen, and I saw that
periscope come up. “No. 3 gun, commence firing, fire,
fire, fire.” And they did, and I picked that shell right
up as it came out of the gun—a black, six-inch explosive
shell. I saw it go through the air in its flight, and I
saw it strike the water eight inches—a foot—in front
of that periscope and it went into the conning tower.
I saw that periscope go end over end, whipping through
that water, and I saw plates go off his conning tower,
and I saw smoke all over the scene where we had hit
the enemy.</p>
<p>When Captain Rice was called upon for a speech he
said:</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“Gentlemen, I’d much rather take the <i>Mongolia</i>
through the war zone than make a speech. All I will
say is that I am ready to go again, and I hope I have
another chance at a <i>U</i>-boat.”</p>
<hr class="tb" />
<h3>HE KNEW WHAT TO DO</h3>
<p>A short time back, while a certain general was inspecting
a regiment just about to depart for new quarters,
he asked a young subaltern what would be his next
order if he was in command of a regiment passing over a
plain in a hostile country, and he found his front
blocked by artillery, a brigade of cavalry on his right
flank, and a morass on his left, while his retreat was cut
off by a large body of infantry.</p>
<p>“Halt! Order arms, ground arms, kneel down, say
your prayers!” replied the subaltern.</p>
<hr class="tb" />
<h3>THAT WAS THE HYMN NUMBER</h3>
<p>Here is a story which if it is not true ought to be.
The soldier in the train was dilating on his changed
life.</p>
<p>“They took me from my home,” he said, “and put
me in barracks; they took away my clothes and put me
in khaki; they took away my name and made me ‘No.
575’; they took me to church, where I’d never been
before, and they made me listen to a sermon for forty
minutes. Then the parson said, ‘No. 575, Art thou
weary, art thou languid?’ And I got seven days’ C.B.
for giving him a civil answer.”</p>
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