these young destroyer captains, after five wakeful nights at sea,
weather-bitten, clear-eyed, trained down to the last ounce. One, with
whom I had played golf on the New England hills, carried his clubs in his
hand and invited me to have a game with him. Another, who apologized for
not being dressed at noon on Sunday--he had made the harbour at three
that morning!--was taking his racquet out of its case, preparing to spend
the afternoon on the hospitable courts of Admiralty House with a fellow
captain and two British officers. He was ashamed of his late rising, but
when it was suggested that some sleep was necessary he explained that, on
the trip just ended, it wasn't only the submarines that kept him awake.
"When these craft get jumping about in a seaway you can't sleep even if
you want to." He who has had experience with them knows the truth of
this remark. Incidentally, though he did not mention it, this young
captain was one of three who had been recommended by the British admiral
to his government for the Distinguished Service Order. The captain's
report, which I read, is terse, and needs to be visualized. There is
simply a statement of the latitude and longitude, the time of day, the
fact that the wave of a periscope was sighted at 1,500 yards by the
quartermaster first class on duty; general quarters rung, the executive
officer signals full speed ahead, the commanding officer takes charge and
manoeuvres for position--and then something happens which the censor may
be fussy about mentioning. At any rate, oil and other things rise to the
surface of the sea, and the Germans are minus another submarine. The
chief machinist's mate, however, comes in for special mention. It seems
that he ignored the ladder and literally fell down the hatch, dislocating
his shoulder but getting the throttle wide open within five seconds!

In this town, facing the sea, is a street lined with quaint houses
painted in yellows and browns and greens, and under each house the kind
of a shop that brings back to the middleaged delectable memories of