II

SHIP SILHOUETTES

It was nearing the dawn, and flaming heralds gave promise of a brilliant day coming up out of France to the east.  Three of us stood in the “crow’s-nest” on an American transport, where we had been standing our “watch” since four o’clock that morning.

Suddenly as we peered through our glasses off to the west we saw the masts of a great cruiser creeping above the horizon of the sea.  We reported it to the “bridge,” where it was confirmed.  Then in a few minutes we saw another mast, and then another, and another; four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, twenty—­five, six—­twenty-six ships coming up over the western horizon, bound for France, bearing the most precious burden that ever a caravan of the sea carried across the waters of the deep; American boys!  Your boys!

It was a marvellous sight.  We had been so intently watching this that we had forgotten about the dawn.  Then we turned for a minute, and off to the east a brilliant red dawn was splashing its way out of the sea.

“What are those dots on the sun?” Doctor Freeman shouted to me.

[Illustration:  “What are those dots on the sun?” Doctor Freeman shouted to me.]

“Why, I believe it’s the convoy of destroyers coming out to meet those transports,” I replied.

Then before our eyes, up out of the eastern horizon, just as we had watched the transports and the cruiser come up over the western horizon, those slender guardians of the deep came toward us in formation.  There were ten of them, and they met the great American convoy just abreast our transport.  We saw the American flag fly to the winds on each ship, and the flashing of signal-lights even in the dawning.

“Those destroyers coming out of the east against that sunrise remind me of the experiences one has in France in these vivid war days,” I said to my fellow watcher in the “crow’s-nest.”

“How is that?”

“They stand out like the Silhouettes of Mountain Peaks against a crimson sunrise,” I replied.

And so have many Silhouettes of the Sea stood out.

There was the afternoon that we stood on the deck of a ship bound for France.  The voyage had been full of dangers.  Submarines had harassed us for days.  One night such a lurch came to the ship as threw everybody about in their staterooms.  We thought it was a storm until the morning came, and we were informed that it was a sudden lurch to avoid a submarine.  The voyage had been full of uneasiness, and now we were coming to the most dangerous part of it, the submarine zone.

Everybody was on deck.  It was Sunday afternoon.  Suddenly off to the east several spots appeared on the horizon.  What were they, friendly craft or enemy ships?

Nobody knew, not even the captain.  There was a wave of uneasiness over the boat.

Speculation was rife.