stories of gallantry, of sea rescues, of moving incidents wherein there
is nothing but good to tell of the human animal. Would that it were all
so. But it is not. The ruthlessness of the German rears itself like a
sordid shadow against the background of Anglo-Saxon and Latin gallantry
and heroism--a diminishing shadow, thank God, and thank, also, the navy
of Great Britain and of the United States.

For more than two years and a half of sea tragedy the men of our navy
played the part of lookers-on. Closely following the sequence of events
with the interest of men of science, there was a variety of opinion as
to the desirability of our playing a part in the epic struggle on the
salt water. There were officers who considered that we were well out of
it; there were more who felt that our part in the struggle which the
Allied nations were waging should be borne without delay. But whatever
existed in the way of opinion there was no lack of unanimity in the
minute study which our commissioned officers gave to the problems in
naval warfare and related interests which were constantly arising in
European waters.

It was not, however, until October of 1916 that the American Navy came
into very close relationship with the submarine activities of the German
Admiralty. The morning of October 7 of that year was one of those days
for which Newport is famous--a tangy breeze sweeping over the gorse-clad
cliffs and dunes that mark the environment of Bateman's Point the old
yellow light-ship which keeps watch and ward over the Brenton reefs
rising and falling on a cobalt sea. From out of the seaward mists there
came shortly before ten o'clock a low-lying craft which was instantly
picked out by the men of the light-ship as a submarine, an American
submarine. There is a station for them in Newport Harbor, and
submersible boats of our navy are to be found there at all times.