CHAPTER IDARTMOUTH COLLEGEMyfirst term at Dartmouth commenced on the 7th of May 1914—previously I had, of course, been through the regulation two years at Osborne College in the Isle of Wight.Most of my term-mates came down from London by the special cadet train, and I should have greatly preferred to have travelled with them, but my home was so far away that I had to do the journey in solitary state, and when I arrived at Kingswear Station at 9.30 on that beautiful spring evening, I found myself a belated last comer.A servant had been sent to meet me, and when he had collected my luggage we embarked on theOtter, one of the steamboats belonging to the College, which was lying alongside thepontoon. The passage of the river Dart only took a few minutes, and we landed at Sandquay, where are situated the engineering shops, in which no small proportion of my brief time at Dartmouth was destined to be spent. Compared with the collection of low, one-storied, bungalow-like buildings which comprise the Osborne premises, the College, standing high upon a hill above the river, appeared to me a very imposing structure, and pleasantly suggestive of a distinct advance towards the goal of my ambitions—a goal destined to be reached so swiftly, and by such unexpected paths, as I at that moment little dreamed of.A long flight of stone steps leads up through the grounds from the workshops, and after climbing these I found myself in the big entrance-hall of the College, where I was met by a warrant officer, who took me to his office, and, after filing my health certificate, showed me the way to the vast mess-room where the five hundred or so of cadets in residence have all their meals. Here I had supper, consistingof cold meat and bread-and-cheese; and when I had finished, the gunner took me to my dormitory, pointed out my sea-chest and bed, and then left me to turn in.By this time it was about 10.30, my messmates were all asleep, and the long room was only dimly illuminated by the “dead lights” which are kept burning all night, as no matches or candles are allowed. Removing my boots, I tiptoed round the chests adjoining mine to see by the nameplates who my immediate neighbours might be, and then, folding up my clothes in regulation fashion, I jumped into bed and was soon fast asleep.At 6 o’clock next morning we were all awakened by the réveillé, and trooped down in a body to the bath-rooms for the cold plunge with which, unless excused by doctor’s orders, every cadet must begin the day. Then, having been informed by the senior cadets who were placed in authority over us that if we were not dressed in one and a half minutes the consequences would be unpleasant, we threwon as many clothes as possible, and ran out of the dormitory surreptitiously carrying boots, ties and collars, and finished dressing in the gun-room. Then we waited about, greeted friends, and exchanged reminiscences of the past “leave” until summoned to breakfast at 7.30.This meal was served in the mess-room in which I had had my supper the night before, and we all scrambled and fought our way up some stairs to a gallery where were situated the four long tables reserved for the use of the junior term.Breakfast over, the cadet captains (who correspond to the monitors of our public schools) showed us over the College grounds, and drew our attention to the various rules, regulations, and notices posted up at different points. We also paid a visit to the canteen, where may be purchased ices, buns, sweets, and similar delicacies dear to all schoolboys. As a more detailed description of my first day would not be particularly interesting, I will just describeone in mid-term as fairly typical of the College routine.At 6 o’clock, roused by the réveillé, we scurry to the bath-room, take the prescribed cold plunge, and then dress. Hot cocoa and ship’s biscuit are served in the mess-room and followed by an hour’s study. At 7.30 “fall in” in the long corridor called the “covered way,” which leads from the dormitories to the mess-room. All the other terms having gone in to breakfast, our particular batch of cadets is called to “attention.” Then comes the order: “Right turn! Double march!”—and helter-skelter, as fast as we can lay foot to the ground, we rush along the hundred yards of corridor to the mess-room door and fight our way through that narrow opening. Woe betide the unfortunate who falls in themêlée! He will get trampled on by all behind, and when finally he is able to rise to his feet, dazed and bruised, after the rush has gone by, he will be assisted on his way by the unsympathetic toes of the cadet captain’s boots. Moral: Keep your footing!After a brief grace we fall to and devour porridge with brown sugar and fresh, creamy, Devon milk, rolls and butter, supplemented by kippers, bacon and eggs, or some similar fare.As no grace is said after breakfast, each cadet is at liberty to leave as soon as he has finished, and to repair to his own gun-room until the bugle sounds for divisions at 9 o’clock. At the call we all “fall in” by terms in the big hall which is called the quarter-deck. The Lieutenant of each term then inspects his cadets and reports to the Commander that they are “correct,” after which the Commander in his turn reports the whole six terms to the Captain. Then the Chaplain comes in, the Commander calls all present to “attention,” and gives the order “Off caps.” The Padre gives out the number of some familiar hymn, and, after a few verses have been sung, he reads some short prayers.Then caps are replaced, and, in obedience to the word of command, the respective terms in order of seniority march off to the studies.Let it be supposed that my term has to go to the engineering works at Sandquay on this particular morning.Procedure is as follows: “Divisions” over, we fall in on a path outside the College and the Engineer Lieutenant marches us down to the workshops. Dismissed from marching order we go into the lobby and shift into overalls, after which we repair in batches to the various shops. Here we construct and fit together parts of the many different types of marine engines; dealing in the process with such work as the casting, forging, and turning of steel and brass.After two hours of this practical work we shift out of our overalls, resume our uniform jackets and caps, and go to one of the lecture-rooms where, for the remaining hour an engineer officer instructs us in the theory of motors, and turbines, and various other engineering technicalities. Then we are again fallen in outside the shops and marched up to the College, where we have a “break” ofa quarter of an hour in which to collect the books required for the succeeding hour of ordinary school work.One o’clock finds us once more assembled in the covered way to double along to the mess-room for lunch.After this meal every one must stay in his place until grace is said, when each term rises in order of seniority and doubles out of the mess-room to the different gun-rooms.It may be here noted that everything at Dartmouth is done at the “double,”i.e.at a run. Strolling around with your hands in your pockets after the fashion of most public schools is of course not allowed in an establishment where naval discipline prevails.After half an hour allowed for digestion we collect our books and go to the studies for another two hours’ work.At 4 o’clock we are mustered again for “quarters” as at “divisions” in the morning, and when dismissed double away to shift into flannels for recreation.The choice of play and exercise is very varied, but no one is allowed to “loaf.” Every cadet must do what is called a “log,” and the manner in which he has spent his recreation time is duly entered against his name each day. The “log” in question may consist of a game of cricket, a two-mile row on the river, two hours’ practice at the nets followed by the swimming of sixty yards in the baths, or a set of tennis or fives.Any cadet who cannot swim must learn without delay. The bath, eight feet deep at one end and three feet at the other, is thirty yards long. It is opened at 6 p.m., and there is always a large attendance. A spring board for diving is provided, as well as various ropes suspended six feet above the water by means of which the more agile spirits swing themselves along, as monkeys swing from tree to tree.All exercise is purposely strenuous, for the four years’ preparation is a test of physical as much as of mental strength, and every yearsome boys are “chucked,” to their bitter disappointment, because they cannot attain to the standard of physical fitness indispensable for the work they, as naval officers, would be expected to perform. Defective eyesight is one of the commonest causes of rejection, for it is obvious that full normal vision is essential for the Navy.On the river there is the choice of two kinds of boat—five-oared gigs and skiffs. A long and muddy creek, known as Mill Creek, branches off from the river just above the College. Great trees overhang its banks on either side and, if one cares to risk disobedience to orders, a very pleasant way of passing an afternoon is to tie up one’s boat in the shade and settle down with a book and some smuggled cigarettes. But it is well to remember that the tide here is very treacherous. Once I saw three cadets marooned on a mud-bank quite forty yards from the water’s edge.At 6.30 every one must be within the College buildings, and by a quarter to 7 all cadetsmust have shifted into proper uniform and be ready for tea.At 7.30 there is “prep.,” which lasts till 8.30, when the “cease fire” bugle sounds. Then the band plays on the quarter-deck, and there is dancing till 9, after which every one “falls in” for five minutes’ prayer. Then the terms double away to their dormitories. At 9.30 the Commander goes “rounds,” and every one must be in bed. As soon as he has passed lights are put out and the day is over.CHAPTER IIMANŒUVRESThissummer term of 1914, destined surely to be the most momentous in the whole history of the College, nevertheless pursued its normal course until July 18, on which date began the great test mobilisation of the “Fleet in being,” to which we had all been eagerly looking forward for some weeks.It is, perhaps, too soon to speculate on the influence which this most opportune concentration of sea power brought to bear on the course of the War. Was it due to foresight? Was it a deliberate warning to trespassers not to tread on Great Britain’s toes? Or was it just a gorgeous piece of luck? Who shall say? Certainly not a mere “snottie”! Anyway, it is a matter of history that after manœuvres theFleet was not demobilised, with the result that the swift, murderous assault on our open sea-coast towns which, judging by the light of subsequent events, was even then in preparation, was happily averted.The cadets were all sent to Portsmouth, from where they embarked on the various ships to which they had been respectively appointed. As a description of my personal experiences I think I will insert here the copy of a letter I wrote to my mother on my return to the College, omitting only some personal details of no interest to the public.“Dartmouth College, Devon:July 25, 1914.“Darling Mother—“Thanks so much for your letter and enclosures.... Now to describe the mobilisation. It was the finest thing I’ve ever seen! Ididenjoy myself. When we were just coming into Gosport in the train, we saw an airship and two aeroplanes above us. We went on board the tank-shipProvider, whichtook us to our respective ships. While we were waiting to start we saw flights of aeroplanes like birds chasing each other through the air, and a big airship was slowly hovering about low down on the horizon. The harbour was teeming with dashing little launches rushing about commanded by ‘snotties’! Outside the sight was wonderful. Simplymilesof stately battle-ships, and swarms of little torpedo craft. As we steamed out theAstra Torres, a huge airship, hovered over us. Just as we got abreast the line they fired a salute of 12-pounders to the King. It was lovely seeing the little white spurts of smoke from the sides of the huge ships. We went alongside theIrresistible, and soon afterwards saw theFormidablesignalling to us a message from my ship—theLord Nelson.“Almost directly afterwards her launch steamed alongside towing a boat for our luggage. There were no ‘snotties’ on board my ship and we had to take their duty, and were treated just like midshipmen. It wasabsolutely ripping! When we got on board we went down to the gun-room flat and deposited our bags and ‘macks.’ Then we went up on deck and a Petty Officer showed us the 9·2 and 12 inch turrets, and how they worked. Then we set to and started to explore the ship. Then came supper of sardines and bread-and-butter and ginger-beer in the gun-room.“Then we went on deck and looked at everything and climbed up to the searchlight platforms till the searchlight display began. That was splendid. The beams seemed to pierce everywhere. They described arcs and circles in the sky and swept up and down, and round and round, and from right forward to right aft. This went on for about an hour, and then we turned into our hammocks. At first I couldn’t get into mine, but when I had succeeded, and as soon as I had kicked the foot out as the hammock was too short for me, I found that it was more comfortable than a bed. The only thing that kept me awake was the ship’s company ‘sing-song,’ but I did notmind as it was all very lovely and novel, and they sang such topping sea-songs.“We turned out in the morning and had a bath and dressed, and had a topping breakfast, and then went on deck. We had to officer parties of seamen at ‘divisions.’ I was in charge of the ship’s boys. After that we had church, which was on the men’s mess-deck. I sat just opposite the galley whence emerged an odour of varied foods cooking, and I was so far away from the Padre that I never heard a word and nearly went to sleep. After church we shifted from our best clothes and started exploring again. We looked in the engine-room and went up a mast, etc. Then we had lunch. After lunch we went all round the Fleet in a little steam launch, and as theLord Nelsonwas flagship of the 2nd Fleet we conveyed instructions to a lot of ships. When we came back we had tea, and then went on deck and ragged about for some time. Having had supper we went on deck and got into conversation with a sporting Lieutenant, whotold us all sorts of things about the Navy. While he was talking to us the ‘liberty’ men came off from the shore, and one bandsman was so drunk he fell in the sea trying to get out of the boat. Then we turned in and I fell asleep almost at once. Next morning we got up early and watched them weighing anchor. Then we saw the 1st Fleet slowly get under way. When they had all passed we got under way and steamed down Spithead at the head of our line. When we got near the royal yacht, ship was lined and we fell in on the after turret to cheer the King. That was grand! To see the stately ships steam by and hear their ship’s companies cheering for their King!“Then we went below and shifted into flannels and put on our overalls and had to get down into the engine-room and boiler-room to be shown round. In the upper part of the boiler-room the temperature was about 110° Fahrenheit, I should think! The rails of the steps were so hot that they blistered my hands. Then the 1st Fleet fought us in a sham fightout in mid-channel, and there was a beastly row when each ship started firing her 12-pounders.“In the middle of it the 1st Fleet Destroyer flotilla dashed up to within 400 yards, intending to torpedo us, and we fired our 12-pounders as fast as we could load them. The flotilla then turned round and steamed away as fast as they could. I think we were supposed to have beaten them off. At 4 o’clock the battle ended and our Fleet remained at sea all that night. We arrived at Portland at 8 in the morning, and after breakfast we disembarked and returned to the College by train. I must stop now as it is time for prayers. Fuller details in the leave. Best love from——“P.S. My shirts haven’t come yet, I’ve just looked.”•••••••That “leave” never came. How little we dreamed at the time of the mobilisation thatwe were so near to the “real thing”! But I must not anticipate.•••••••On the 25th July, three days after the events just recorded, the examinations began.The diplomatic struggle in Europe resulting from Austria’s note to Serbia formed the chief topic of discussion in the College, but no particular excitement prevailed until Tuesday the 28th of July, when we learned that Austria had declared war on Serbia, and Russia had ordered a partial mobilisation of her army.That afternoon when we were all fallen in at “quarters,” and after the terms had been reported by their officers to the Commander, and were awaiting the customary dismissal, the Captain came on to the quarter-deck, and, going up to the Commander, said a few words to him in an undertone. The Commander saluted, and, turning to the ranks, gave the order, “Cadets, ’shun!”Every one sprang to “attention,” all eyesfixed upon the Captain. He said: “I have just received this telegram from the Admiralty.” Then in a clear, ringing voice he read the dispatch, which, to the best of my recollection, ran as follows—“In the event of war, prepare to mobilise at a moment’s notice.”After a short pause during which a universal murmur of excitement rippled through the ranks, he continued:“If I receive the order to mobilise the College, all cadets will be recalled immediately whatever they may be doing. You will proceed at once to your dormitories, where you will pack your chests, and move them out of the dormitories to the nearest pathway, and stand by to load them on the carts and wagons which will convey them down to the pier. You will then fall in in terms on the quarter-deck to draw your pay. I will have lists of the ships to which cadets are appointed posted up in the gun-rooms as soon as they are made out. The Hawke and Drake terms will go to Portsmouth; the Grenvilleand Blakes to Chatham, and the Exmouth and St. Vincents with the ships’ company to Devonport. The Chatham batch will leave the College first, followed by the Portsmouth batch. Those going to Devonport will leave last. A year ago I promised the Admiralty to clear the College of all cadets and active service ratings in eight hours. I trust toyouto make this promise good.”Then with a word to the Commander he left the quarter-deck.The Commander turned to the ranks and gave the order “Stand at ease,” and then to the officer of the sixth term he said: “Carry on, please.”On the way to the dormitories and while shifting wild speculation was rife. Very little cricket was played that afternoon. Groups of excited cadets collected about the playgrounds and discussed in all their bearings the two absorbing questions—“WouldEngland declare war?Shouldwe be mobilised?”Luckily for our education only two moreexams remained to be done, since we were far too excited to give them much attention. What after all were examinations compared with the possibility of such tremendous adventures as had suddenly loomed up on our horizon!At this time, as the reader will no doubt remember, portentous events followed each other in such quick succession that more excitement was crammed into a single day than into any ordinary week or even month. On the Wednesday morning when we assembled in the gun-room a rush was made for the notice board, on which had been posted the list of ships to which in the event of war we had been appointed. These were eagerly scanned, and excitement rose to fever pitch. To see one’s name in print as appointed to a real definite ship seemed to bring it all so much nearer: to materialise what up till then had seemed more like some wild and exciting dream of adventure than a sober fact.However, by Thursday morning no order to mobilise had been received and hope died downagain, and by Friday, after the manner of the fox in the fable, we were all consoling one another for the unattainable by such remarks as: “After all, it will be much better fun to go on leave next Tuesday than to fight any beastly Germans.”
CHAPTER IDARTMOUTH COLLEGEMyfirst term at Dartmouth commenced on the 7th of May 1914—previously I had, of course, been through the regulation two years at Osborne College in the Isle of Wight.Most of my term-mates came down from London by the special cadet train, and I should have greatly preferred to have travelled with them, but my home was so far away that I had to do the journey in solitary state, and when I arrived at Kingswear Station at 9.30 on that beautiful spring evening, I found myself a belated last comer.A servant had been sent to meet me, and when he had collected my luggage we embarked on theOtter, one of the steamboats belonging to the College, which was lying alongside thepontoon. The passage of the river Dart only took a few minutes, and we landed at Sandquay, where are situated the engineering shops, in which no small proportion of my brief time at Dartmouth was destined to be spent. Compared with the collection of low, one-storied, bungalow-like buildings which comprise the Osborne premises, the College, standing high upon a hill above the river, appeared to me a very imposing structure, and pleasantly suggestive of a distinct advance towards the goal of my ambitions—a goal destined to be reached so swiftly, and by such unexpected paths, as I at that moment little dreamed of.A long flight of stone steps leads up through the grounds from the workshops, and after climbing these I found myself in the big entrance-hall of the College, where I was met by a warrant officer, who took me to his office, and, after filing my health certificate, showed me the way to the vast mess-room where the five hundred or so of cadets in residence have all their meals. Here I had supper, consistingof cold meat and bread-and-cheese; and when I had finished, the gunner took me to my dormitory, pointed out my sea-chest and bed, and then left me to turn in.By this time it was about 10.30, my messmates were all asleep, and the long room was only dimly illuminated by the “dead lights” which are kept burning all night, as no matches or candles are allowed. Removing my boots, I tiptoed round the chests adjoining mine to see by the nameplates who my immediate neighbours might be, and then, folding up my clothes in regulation fashion, I jumped into bed and was soon fast asleep.At 6 o’clock next morning we were all awakened by the réveillé, and trooped down in a body to the bath-rooms for the cold plunge with which, unless excused by doctor’s orders, every cadet must begin the day. Then, having been informed by the senior cadets who were placed in authority over us that if we were not dressed in one and a half minutes the consequences would be unpleasant, we threwon as many clothes as possible, and ran out of the dormitory surreptitiously carrying boots, ties and collars, and finished dressing in the gun-room. Then we waited about, greeted friends, and exchanged reminiscences of the past “leave” until summoned to breakfast at 7.30.This meal was served in the mess-room in which I had had my supper the night before, and we all scrambled and fought our way up some stairs to a gallery where were situated the four long tables reserved for the use of the junior term.Breakfast over, the cadet captains (who correspond to the monitors of our public schools) showed us over the College grounds, and drew our attention to the various rules, regulations, and notices posted up at different points. We also paid a visit to the canteen, where may be purchased ices, buns, sweets, and similar delicacies dear to all schoolboys. As a more detailed description of my first day would not be particularly interesting, I will just describeone in mid-term as fairly typical of the College routine.At 6 o’clock, roused by the réveillé, we scurry to the bath-room, take the prescribed cold plunge, and then dress. Hot cocoa and ship’s biscuit are served in the mess-room and followed by an hour’s study. At 7.30 “fall in” in the long corridor called the “covered way,” which leads from the dormitories to the mess-room. All the other terms having gone in to breakfast, our particular batch of cadets is called to “attention.” Then comes the order: “Right turn! Double march!”—and helter-skelter, as fast as we can lay foot to the ground, we rush along the hundred yards of corridor to the mess-room door and fight our way through that narrow opening. Woe betide the unfortunate who falls in themêlée! He will get trampled on by all behind, and when finally he is able to rise to his feet, dazed and bruised, after the rush has gone by, he will be assisted on his way by the unsympathetic toes of the cadet captain’s boots. Moral: Keep your footing!After a brief grace we fall to and devour porridge with brown sugar and fresh, creamy, Devon milk, rolls and butter, supplemented by kippers, bacon and eggs, or some similar fare.As no grace is said after breakfast, each cadet is at liberty to leave as soon as he has finished, and to repair to his own gun-room until the bugle sounds for divisions at 9 o’clock. At the call we all “fall in” by terms in the big hall which is called the quarter-deck. The Lieutenant of each term then inspects his cadets and reports to the Commander that they are “correct,” after which the Commander in his turn reports the whole six terms to the Captain. Then the Chaplain comes in, the Commander calls all present to “attention,” and gives the order “Off caps.” The Padre gives out the number of some familiar hymn, and, after a few verses have been sung, he reads some short prayers.Then caps are replaced, and, in obedience to the word of command, the respective terms in order of seniority march off to the studies.Let it be supposed that my term has to go to the engineering works at Sandquay on this particular morning.Procedure is as follows: “Divisions” over, we fall in on a path outside the College and the Engineer Lieutenant marches us down to the workshops. Dismissed from marching order we go into the lobby and shift into overalls, after which we repair in batches to the various shops. Here we construct and fit together parts of the many different types of marine engines; dealing in the process with such work as the casting, forging, and turning of steel and brass.After two hours of this practical work we shift out of our overalls, resume our uniform jackets and caps, and go to one of the lecture-rooms where, for the remaining hour an engineer officer instructs us in the theory of motors, and turbines, and various other engineering technicalities. Then we are again fallen in outside the shops and marched up to the College, where we have a “break” ofa quarter of an hour in which to collect the books required for the succeeding hour of ordinary school work.One o’clock finds us once more assembled in the covered way to double along to the mess-room for lunch.After this meal every one must stay in his place until grace is said, when each term rises in order of seniority and doubles out of the mess-room to the different gun-rooms.It may be here noted that everything at Dartmouth is done at the “double,”i.e.at a run. Strolling around with your hands in your pockets after the fashion of most public schools is of course not allowed in an establishment where naval discipline prevails.After half an hour allowed for digestion we collect our books and go to the studies for another two hours’ work.At 4 o’clock we are mustered again for “quarters” as at “divisions” in the morning, and when dismissed double away to shift into flannels for recreation.The choice of play and exercise is very varied, but no one is allowed to “loaf.” Every cadet must do what is called a “log,” and the manner in which he has spent his recreation time is duly entered against his name each day. The “log” in question may consist of a game of cricket, a two-mile row on the river, two hours’ practice at the nets followed by the swimming of sixty yards in the baths, or a set of tennis or fives.Any cadet who cannot swim must learn without delay. The bath, eight feet deep at one end and three feet at the other, is thirty yards long. It is opened at 6 p.m., and there is always a large attendance. A spring board for diving is provided, as well as various ropes suspended six feet above the water by means of which the more agile spirits swing themselves along, as monkeys swing from tree to tree.All exercise is purposely strenuous, for the four years’ preparation is a test of physical as much as of mental strength, and every yearsome boys are “chucked,” to their bitter disappointment, because they cannot attain to the standard of physical fitness indispensable for the work they, as naval officers, would be expected to perform. Defective eyesight is one of the commonest causes of rejection, for it is obvious that full normal vision is essential for the Navy.On the river there is the choice of two kinds of boat—five-oared gigs and skiffs. A long and muddy creek, known as Mill Creek, branches off from the river just above the College. Great trees overhang its banks on either side and, if one cares to risk disobedience to orders, a very pleasant way of passing an afternoon is to tie up one’s boat in the shade and settle down with a book and some smuggled cigarettes. But it is well to remember that the tide here is very treacherous. Once I saw three cadets marooned on a mud-bank quite forty yards from the water’s edge.At 6.30 every one must be within the College buildings, and by a quarter to 7 all cadetsmust have shifted into proper uniform and be ready for tea.At 7.30 there is “prep.,” which lasts till 8.30, when the “cease fire” bugle sounds. Then the band plays on the quarter-deck, and there is dancing till 9, after which every one “falls in” for five minutes’ prayer. Then the terms double away to their dormitories. At 9.30 the Commander goes “rounds,” and every one must be in bed. As soon as he has passed lights are put out and the day is over.CHAPTER IIMANŒUVRESThissummer term of 1914, destined surely to be the most momentous in the whole history of the College, nevertheless pursued its normal course until July 18, on which date began the great test mobilisation of the “Fleet in being,” to which we had all been eagerly looking forward for some weeks.It is, perhaps, too soon to speculate on the influence which this most opportune concentration of sea power brought to bear on the course of the War. Was it due to foresight? Was it a deliberate warning to trespassers not to tread on Great Britain’s toes? Or was it just a gorgeous piece of luck? Who shall say? Certainly not a mere “snottie”! Anyway, it is a matter of history that after manœuvres theFleet was not demobilised, with the result that the swift, murderous assault on our open sea-coast towns which, judging by the light of subsequent events, was even then in preparation, was happily averted.The cadets were all sent to Portsmouth, from where they embarked on the various ships to which they had been respectively appointed. As a description of my personal experiences I think I will insert here the copy of a letter I wrote to my mother on my return to the College, omitting only some personal details of no interest to the public.“Dartmouth College, Devon:July 25, 1914.“Darling Mother—“Thanks so much for your letter and enclosures.... Now to describe the mobilisation. It was the finest thing I’ve ever seen! Ididenjoy myself. When we were just coming into Gosport in the train, we saw an airship and two aeroplanes above us. We went on board the tank-shipProvider, whichtook us to our respective ships. While we were waiting to start we saw flights of aeroplanes like birds chasing each other through the air, and a big airship was slowly hovering about low down on the horizon. The harbour was teeming with dashing little launches rushing about commanded by ‘snotties’! Outside the sight was wonderful. Simplymilesof stately battle-ships, and swarms of little torpedo craft. As we steamed out theAstra Torres, a huge airship, hovered over us. Just as we got abreast the line they fired a salute of 12-pounders to the King. It was lovely seeing the little white spurts of smoke from the sides of the huge ships. We went alongside theIrresistible, and soon afterwards saw theFormidablesignalling to us a message from my ship—theLord Nelson.“Almost directly afterwards her launch steamed alongside towing a boat for our luggage. There were no ‘snotties’ on board my ship and we had to take their duty, and were treated just like midshipmen. It wasabsolutely ripping! When we got on board we went down to the gun-room flat and deposited our bags and ‘macks.’ Then we went up on deck and a Petty Officer showed us the 9·2 and 12 inch turrets, and how they worked. Then we set to and started to explore the ship. Then came supper of sardines and bread-and-butter and ginger-beer in the gun-room.“Then we went on deck and looked at everything and climbed up to the searchlight platforms till the searchlight display began. That was splendid. The beams seemed to pierce everywhere. They described arcs and circles in the sky and swept up and down, and round and round, and from right forward to right aft. This went on for about an hour, and then we turned into our hammocks. At first I couldn’t get into mine, but when I had succeeded, and as soon as I had kicked the foot out as the hammock was too short for me, I found that it was more comfortable than a bed. The only thing that kept me awake was the ship’s company ‘sing-song,’ but I did notmind as it was all very lovely and novel, and they sang such topping sea-songs.“We turned out in the morning and had a bath and dressed, and had a topping breakfast, and then went on deck. We had to officer parties of seamen at ‘divisions.’ I was in charge of the ship’s boys. After that we had church, which was on the men’s mess-deck. I sat just opposite the galley whence emerged an odour of varied foods cooking, and I was so far away from the Padre that I never heard a word and nearly went to sleep. After church we shifted from our best clothes and started exploring again. We looked in the engine-room and went up a mast, etc. Then we had lunch. After lunch we went all round the Fleet in a little steam launch, and as theLord Nelsonwas flagship of the 2nd Fleet we conveyed instructions to a lot of ships. When we came back we had tea, and then went on deck and ragged about for some time. Having had supper we went on deck and got into conversation with a sporting Lieutenant, whotold us all sorts of things about the Navy. While he was talking to us the ‘liberty’ men came off from the shore, and one bandsman was so drunk he fell in the sea trying to get out of the boat. Then we turned in and I fell asleep almost at once. Next morning we got up early and watched them weighing anchor. Then we saw the 1st Fleet slowly get under way. When they had all passed we got under way and steamed down Spithead at the head of our line. When we got near the royal yacht, ship was lined and we fell in on the after turret to cheer the King. That was grand! To see the stately ships steam by and hear their ship’s companies cheering for their King!“Then we went below and shifted into flannels and put on our overalls and had to get down into the engine-room and boiler-room to be shown round. In the upper part of the boiler-room the temperature was about 110° Fahrenheit, I should think! The rails of the steps were so hot that they blistered my hands. Then the 1st Fleet fought us in a sham fightout in mid-channel, and there was a beastly row when each ship started firing her 12-pounders.“In the middle of it the 1st Fleet Destroyer flotilla dashed up to within 400 yards, intending to torpedo us, and we fired our 12-pounders as fast as we could load them. The flotilla then turned round and steamed away as fast as they could. I think we were supposed to have beaten them off. At 4 o’clock the battle ended and our Fleet remained at sea all that night. We arrived at Portland at 8 in the morning, and after breakfast we disembarked and returned to the College by train. I must stop now as it is time for prayers. Fuller details in the leave. Best love from——“P.S. My shirts haven’t come yet, I’ve just looked.”•••••••That “leave” never came. How little we dreamed at the time of the mobilisation thatwe were so near to the “real thing”! But I must not anticipate.•••••••On the 25th July, three days after the events just recorded, the examinations began.The diplomatic struggle in Europe resulting from Austria’s note to Serbia formed the chief topic of discussion in the College, but no particular excitement prevailed until Tuesday the 28th of July, when we learned that Austria had declared war on Serbia, and Russia had ordered a partial mobilisation of her army.That afternoon when we were all fallen in at “quarters,” and after the terms had been reported by their officers to the Commander, and were awaiting the customary dismissal, the Captain came on to the quarter-deck, and, going up to the Commander, said a few words to him in an undertone. The Commander saluted, and, turning to the ranks, gave the order, “Cadets, ’shun!”Every one sprang to “attention,” all eyesfixed upon the Captain. He said: “I have just received this telegram from the Admiralty.” Then in a clear, ringing voice he read the dispatch, which, to the best of my recollection, ran as follows—“In the event of war, prepare to mobilise at a moment’s notice.”After a short pause during which a universal murmur of excitement rippled through the ranks, he continued:“If I receive the order to mobilise the College, all cadets will be recalled immediately whatever they may be doing. You will proceed at once to your dormitories, where you will pack your chests, and move them out of the dormitories to the nearest pathway, and stand by to load them on the carts and wagons which will convey them down to the pier. You will then fall in in terms on the quarter-deck to draw your pay. I will have lists of the ships to which cadets are appointed posted up in the gun-rooms as soon as they are made out. The Hawke and Drake terms will go to Portsmouth; the Grenvilleand Blakes to Chatham, and the Exmouth and St. Vincents with the ships’ company to Devonport. The Chatham batch will leave the College first, followed by the Portsmouth batch. Those going to Devonport will leave last. A year ago I promised the Admiralty to clear the College of all cadets and active service ratings in eight hours. I trust toyouto make this promise good.”Then with a word to the Commander he left the quarter-deck.The Commander turned to the ranks and gave the order “Stand at ease,” and then to the officer of the sixth term he said: “Carry on, please.”On the way to the dormitories and while shifting wild speculation was rife. Very little cricket was played that afternoon. Groups of excited cadets collected about the playgrounds and discussed in all their bearings the two absorbing questions—“WouldEngland declare war?Shouldwe be mobilised?”Luckily for our education only two moreexams remained to be done, since we were far too excited to give them much attention. What after all were examinations compared with the possibility of such tremendous adventures as had suddenly loomed up on our horizon!At this time, as the reader will no doubt remember, portentous events followed each other in such quick succession that more excitement was crammed into a single day than into any ordinary week or even month. On the Wednesday morning when we assembled in the gun-room a rush was made for the notice board, on which had been posted the list of ships to which in the event of war we had been appointed. These were eagerly scanned, and excitement rose to fever pitch. To see one’s name in print as appointed to a real definite ship seemed to bring it all so much nearer: to materialise what up till then had seemed more like some wild and exciting dream of adventure than a sober fact.However, by Thursday morning no order to mobilise had been received and hope died downagain, and by Friday, after the manner of the fox in the fable, we were all consoling one another for the unattainable by such remarks as: “After all, it will be much better fun to go on leave next Tuesday than to fight any beastly Germans.”
DARTMOUTH COLLEGE
Myfirst term at Dartmouth commenced on the 7th of May 1914—previously I had, of course, been through the regulation two years at Osborne College in the Isle of Wight.
Most of my term-mates came down from London by the special cadet train, and I should have greatly preferred to have travelled with them, but my home was so far away that I had to do the journey in solitary state, and when I arrived at Kingswear Station at 9.30 on that beautiful spring evening, I found myself a belated last comer.
A servant had been sent to meet me, and when he had collected my luggage we embarked on theOtter, one of the steamboats belonging to the College, which was lying alongside thepontoon. The passage of the river Dart only took a few minutes, and we landed at Sandquay, where are situated the engineering shops, in which no small proportion of my brief time at Dartmouth was destined to be spent. Compared with the collection of low, one-storied, bungalow-like buildings which comprise the Osborne premises, the College, standing high upon a hill above the river, appeared to me a very imposing structure, and pleasantly suggestive of a distinct advance towards the goal of my ambitions—a goal destined to be reached so swiftly, and by such unexpected paths, as I at that moment little dreamed of.
A long flight of stone steps leads up through the grounds from the workshops, and after climbing these I found myself in the big entrance-hall of the College, where I was met by a warrant officer, who took me to his office, and, after filing my health certificate, showed me the way to the vast mess-room where the five hundred or so of cadets in residence have all their meals. Here I had supper, consistingof cold meat and bread-and-cheese; and when I had finished, the gunner took me to my dormitory, pointed out my sea-chest and bed, and then left me to turn in.
By this time it was about 10.30, my messmates were all asleep, and the long room was only dimly illuminated by the “dead lights” which are kept burning all night, as no matches or candles are allowed. Removing my boots, I tiptoed round the chests adjoining mine to see by the nameplates who my immediate neighbours might be, and then, folding up my clothes in regulation fashion, I jumped into bed and was soon fast asleep.
At 6 o’clock next morning we were all awakened by the réveillé, and trooped down in a body to the bath-rooms for the cold plunge with which, unless excused by doctor’s orders, every cadet must begin the day. Then, having been informed by the senior cadets who were placed in authority over us that if we were not dressed in one and a half minutes the consequences would be unpleasant, we threwon as many clothes as possible, and ran out of the dormitory surreptitiously carrying boots, ties and collars, and finished dressing in the gun-room. Then we waited about, greeted friends, and exchanged reminiscences of the past “leave” until summoned to breakfast at 7.30.
This meal was served in the mess-room in which I had had my supper the night before, and we all scrambled and fought our way up some stairs to a gallery where were situated the four long tables reserved for the use of the junior term.
Breakfast over, the cadet captains (who correspond to the monitors of our public schools) showed us over the College grounds, and drew our attention to the various rules, regulations, and notices posted up at different points. We also paid a visit to the canteen, where may be purchased ices, buns, sweets, and similar delicacies dear to all schoolboys. As a more detailed description of my first day would not be particularly interesting, I will just describeone in mid-term as fairly typical of the College routine.
At 6 o’clock, roused by the réveillé, we scurry to the bath-room, take the prescribed cold plunge, and then dress. Hot cocoa and ship’s biscuit are served in the mess-room and followed by an hour’s study. At 7.30 “fall in” in the long corridor called the “covered way,” which leads from the dormitories to the mess-room. All the other terms having gone in to breakfast, our particular batch of cadets is called to “attention.” Then comes the order: “Right turn! Double march!”—and helter-skelter, as fast as we can lay foot to the ground, we rush along the hundred yards of corridor to the mess-room door and fight our way through that narrow opening. Woe betide the unfortunate who falls in themêlée! He will get trampled on by all behind, and when finally he is able to rise to his feet, dazed and bruised, after the rush has gone by, he will be assisted on his way by the unsympathetic toes of the cadet captain’s boots. Moral: Keep your footing!
After a brief grace we fall to and devour porridge with brown sugar and fresh, creamy, Devon milk, rolls and butter, supplemented by kippers, bacon and eggs, or some similar fare.
As no grace is said after breakfast, each cadet is at liberty to leave as soon as he has finished, and to repair to his own gun-room until the bugle sounds for divisions at 9 o’clock. At the call we all “fall in” by terms in the big hall which is called the quarter-deck. The Lieutenant of each term then inspects his cadets and reports to the Commander that they are “correct,” after which the Commander in his turn reports the whole six terms to the Captain. Then the Chaplain comes in, the Commander calls all present to “attention,” and gives the order “Off caps.” The Padre gives out the number of some familiar hymn, and, after a few verses have been sung, he reads some short prayers.
Then caps are replaced, and, in obedience to the word of command, the respective terms in order of seniority march off to the studies.
Let it be supposed that my term has to go to the engineering works at Sandquay on this particular morning.
Procedure is as follows: “Divisions” over, we fall in on a path outside the College and the Engineer Lieutenant marches us down to the workshops. Dismissed from marching order we go into the lobby and shift into overalls, after which we repair in batches to the various shops. Here we construct and fit together parts of the many different types of marine engines; dealing in the process with such work as the casting, forging, and turning of steel and brass.
After two hours of this practical work we shift out of our overalls, resume our uniform jackets and caps, and go to one of the lecture-rooms where, for the remaining hour an engineer officer instructs us in the theory of motors, and turbines, and various other engineering technicalities. Then we are again fallen in outside the shops and marched up to the College, where we have a “break” ofa quarter of an hour in which to collect the books required for the succeeding hour of ordinary school work.
One o’clock finds us once more assembled in the covered way to double along to the mess-room for lunch.
After this meal every one must stay in his place until grace is said, when each term rises in order of seniority and doubles out of the mess-room to the different gun-rooms.
It may be here noted that everything at Dartmouth is done at the “double,”i.e.at a run. Strolling around with your hands in your pockets after the fashion of most public schools is of course not allowed in an establishment where naval discipline prevails.
After half an hour allowed for digestion we collect our books and go to the studies for another two hours’ work.
At 4 o’clock we are mustered again for “quarters” as at “divisions” in the morning, and when dismissed double away to shift into flannels for recreation.
The choice of play and exercise is very varied, but no one is allowed to “loaf.” Every cadet must do what is called a “log,” and the manner in which he has spent his recreation time is duly entered against his name each day. The “log” in question may consist of a game of cricket, a two-mile row on the river, two hours’ practice at the nets followed by the swimming of sixty yards in the baths, or a set of tennis or fives.
Any cadet who cannot swim must learn without delay. The bath, eight feet deep at one end and three feet at the other, is thirty yards long. It is opened at 6 p.m., and there is always a large attendance. A spring board for diving is provided, as well as various ropes suspended six feet above the water by means of which the more agile spirits swing themselves along, as monkeys swing from tree to tree.
All exercise is purposely strenuous, for the four years’ preparation is a test of physical as much as of mental strength, and every yearsome boys are “chucked,” to their bitter disappointment, because they cannot attain to the standard of physical fitness indispensable for the work they, as naval officers, would be expected to perform. Defective eyesight is one of the commonest causes of rejection, for it is obvious that full normal vision is essential for the Navy.
On the river there is the choice of two kinds of boat—five-oared gigs and skiffs. A long and muddy creek, known as Mill Creek, branches off from the river just above the College. Great trees overhang its banks on either side and, if one cares to risk disobedience to orders, a very pleasant way of passing an afternoon is to tie up one’s boat in the shade and settle down with a book and some smuggled cigarettes. But it is well to remember that the tide here is very treacherous. Once I saw three cadets marooned on a mud-bank quite forty yards from the water’s edge.
At 6.30 every one must be within the College buildings, and by a quarter to 7 all cadetsmust have shifted into proper uniform and be ready for tea.
At 7.30 there is “prep.,” which lasts till 8.30, when the “cease fire” bugle sounds. Then the band plays on the quarter-deck, and there is dancing till 9, after which every one “falls in” for five minutes’ prayer. Then the terms double away to their dormitories. At 9.30 the Commander goes “rounds,” and every one must be in bed. As soon as he has passed lights are put out and the day is over.
MANŒUVRES
Thissummer term of 1914, destined surely to be the most momentous in the whole history of the College, nevertheless pursued its normal course until July 18, on which date began the great test mobilisation of the “Fleet in being,” to which we had all been eagerly looking forward for some weeks.
It is, perhaps, too soon to speculate on the influence which this most opportune concentration of sea power brought to bear on the course of the War. Was it due to foresight? Was it a deliberate warning to trespassers not to tread on Great Britain’s toes? Or was it just a gorgeous piece of luck? Who shall say? Certainly not a mere “snottie”! Anyway, it is a matter of history that after manœuvres theFleet was not demobilised, with the result that the swift, murderous assault on our open sea-coast towns which, judging by the light of subsequent events, was even then in preparation, was happily averted.
The cadets were all sent to Portsmouth, from where they embarked on the various ships to which they had been respectively appointed. As a description of my personal experiences I think I will insert here the copy of a letter I wrote to my mother on my return to the College, omitting only some personal details of no interest to the public.
“Dartmouth College, Devon:July 25, 1914.
“Darling Mother—
“Thanks so much for your letter and enclosures.... Now to describe the mobilisation. It was the finest thing I’ve ever seen! Ididenjoy myself. When we were just coming into Gosport in the train, we saw an airship and two aeroplanes above us. We went on board the tank-shipProvider, whichtook us to our respective ships. While we were waiting to start we saw flights of aeroplanes like birds chasing each other through the air, and a big airship was slowly hovering about low down on the horizon. The harbour was teeming with dashing little launches rushing about commanded by ‘snotties’! Outside the sight was wonderful. Simplymilesof stately battle-ships, and swarms of little torpedo craft. As we steamed out theAstra Torres, a huge airship, hovered over us. Just as we got abreast the line they fired a salute of 12-pounders to the King. It was lovely seeing the little white spurts of smoke from the sides of the huge ships. We went alongside theIrresistible, and soon afterwards saw theFormidablesignalling to us a message from my ship—theLord Nelson.
“Almost directly afterwards her launch steamed alongside towing a boat for our luggage. There were no ‘snotties’ on board my ship and we had to take their duty, and were treated just like midshipmen. It wasabsolutely ripping! When we got on board we went down to the gun-room flat and deposited our bags and ‘macks.’ Then we went up on deck and a Petty Officer showed us the 9·2 and 12 inch turrets, and how they worked. Then we set to and started to explore the ship. Then came supper of sardines and bread-and-butter and ginger-beer in the gun-room.
“Then we went on deck and looked at everything and climbed up to the searchlight platforms till the searchlight display began. That was splendid. The beams seemed to pierce everywhere. They described arcs and circles in the sky and swept up and down, and round and round, and from right forward to right aft. This went on for about an hour, and then we turned into our hammocks. At first I couldn’t get into mine, but when I had succeeded, and as soon as I had kicked the foot out as the hammock was too short for me, I found that it was more comfortable than a bed. The only thing that kept me awake was the ship’s company ‘sing-song,’ but I did notmind as it was all very lovely and novel, and they sang such topping sea-songs.
“We turned out in the morning and had a bath and dressed, and had a topping breakfast, and then went on deck. We had to officer parties of seamen at ‘divisions.’ I was in charge of the ship’s boys. After that we had church, which was on the men’s mess-deck. I sat just opposite the galley whence emerged an odour of varied foods cooking, and I was so far away from the Padre that I never heard a word and nearly went to sleep. After church we shifted from our best clothes and started exploring again. We looked in the engine-room and went up a mast, etc. Then we had lunch. After lunch we went all round the Fleet in a little steam launch, and as theLord Nelsonwas flagship of the 2nd Fleet we conveyed instructions to a lot of ships. When we came back we had tea, and then went on deck and ragged about for some time. Having had supper we went on deck and got into conversation with a sporting Lieutenant, whotold us all sorts of things about the Navy. While he was talking to us the ‘liberty’ men came off from the shore, and one bandsman was so drunk he fell in the sea trying to get out of the boat. Then we turned in and I fell asleep almost at once. Next morning we got up early and watched them weighing anchor. Then we saw the 1st Fleet slowly get under way. When they had all passed we got under way and steamed down Spithead at the head of our line. When we got near the royal yacht, ship was lined and we fell in on the after turret to cheer the King. That was grand! To see the stately ships steam by and hear their ship’s companies cheering for their King!
“Then we went below and shifted into flannels and put on our overalls and had to get down into the engine-room and boiler-room to be shown round. In the upper part of the boiler-room the temperature was about 110° Fahrenheit, I should think! The rails of the steps were so hot that they blistered my hands. Then the 1st Fleet fought us in a sham fightout in mid-channel, and there was a beastly row when each ship started firing her 12-pounders.
“In the middle of it the 1st Fleet Destroyer flotilla dashed up to within 400 yards, intending to torpedo us, and we fired our 12-pounders as fast as we could load them. The flotilla then turned round and steamed away as fast as they could. I think we were supposed to have beaten them off. At 4 o’clock the battle ended and our Fleet remained at sea all that night. We arrived at Portland at 8 in the morning, and after breakfast we disembarked and returned to the College by train. I must stop now as it is time for prayers. Fuller details in the leave. Best love from
——
“P.S. My shirts haven’t come yet, I’ve just looked.”
•••••••
That “leave” never came. How little we dreamed at the time of the mobilisation thatwe were so near to the “real thing”! But I must not anticipate.
•••••••
On the 25th July, three days after the events just recorded, the examinations began.
The diplomatic struggle in Europe resulting from Austria’s note to Serbia formed the chief topic of discussion in the College, but no particular excitement prevailed until Tuesday the 28th of July, when we learned that Austria had declared war on Serbia, and Russia had ordered a partial mobilisation of her army.
That afternoon when we were all fallen in at “quarters,” and after the terms had been reported by their officers to the Commander, and were awaiting the customary dismissal, the Captain came on to the quarter-deck, and, going up to the Commander, said a few words to him in an undertone. The Commander saluted, and, turning to the ranks, gave the order, “Cadets, ’shun!”
Every one sprang to “attention,” all eyesfixed upon the Captain. He said: “I have just received this telegram from the Admiralty.” Then in a clear, ringing voice he read the dispatch, which, to the best of my recollection, ran as follows—
“In the event of war, prepare to mobilise at a moment’s notice.”
After a short pause during which a universal murmur of excitement rippled through the ranks, he continued:
“If I receive the order to mobilise the College, all cadets will be recalled immediately whatever they may be doing. You will proceed at once to your dormitories, where you will pack your chests, and move them out of the dormitories to the nearest pathway, and stand by to load them on the carts and wagons which will convey them down to the pier. You will then fall in in terms on the quarter-deck to draw your pay. I will have lists of the ships to which cadets are appointed posted up in the gun-rooms as soon as they are made out. The Hawke and Drake terms will go to Portsmouth; the Grenvilleand Blakes to Chatham, and the Exmouth and St. Vincents with the ships’ company to Devonport. The Chatham batch will leave the College first, followed by the Portsmouth batch. Those going to Devonport will leave last. A year ago I promised the Admiralty to clear the College of all cadets and active service ratings in eight hours. I trust toyouto make this promise good.”
Then with a word to the Commander he left the quarter-deck.
The Commander turned to the ranks and gave the order “Stand at ease,” and then to the officer of the sixth term he said: “Carry on, please.”
On the way to the dormitories and while shifting wild speculation was rife. Very little cricket was played that afternoon. Groups of excited cadets collected about the playgrounds and discussed in all their bearings the two absorbing questions—“WouldEngland declare war?Shouldwe be mobilised?”
Luckily for our education only two moreexams remained to be done, since we were far too excited to give them much attention. What after all were examinations compared with the possibility of such tremendous adventures as had suddenly loomed up on our horizon!
At this time, as the reader will no doubt remember, portentous events followed each other in such quick succession that more excitement was crammed into a single day than into any ordinary week or even month. On the Wednesday morning when we assembled in the gun-room a rush was made for the notice board, on which had been posted the list of ships to which in the event of war we had been appointed. These were eagerly scanned, and excitement rose to fever pitch. To see one’s name in print as appointed to a real definite ship seemed to bring it all so much nearer: to materialise what up till then had seemed more like some wild and exciting dream of adventure than a sober fact.
However, by Thursday morning no order to mobilise had been received and hope died downagain, and by Friday, after the manner of the fox in the fable, we were all consoling one another for the unattainable by such remarks as: “After all, it will be much better fun to go on leave next Tuesday than to fight any beastly Germans.”