The Marines Have Landed Page 8

  CHAPTER VII

  OFF FOR TREASURE ISLAND

  The little detachment for the _Denver_ were ordered to go on board fullyequipped. This necessitated packing all personal belongings in thekhaki-colored canvas knapsacks and haversacks.

  Gunnery Sergeant Miller happening through the squad room found Dick andHenry thus engaged soon after they had been notified to be ready fordeparture in two hours' time.

  "Want some help?" he questioned, stopping near their bunks.

  And indeed they did want help, for though they had been taught how tomake up their packs, they had never before been required to stow awayevery blessed thing they owned in one of the infernal things--this beingabout the way they expressed themselves in answer to his query.

  "To begin with, you won't be allowed to have any cit clothing onshipboard," said the Sergeant. "The best thing to do, if you don't wantto send them home, is to sell them to Ikie Cohen across the street, orif you choose, you can pack them up with the things you won't need andturn them over to the Police Sergeant for storage; then when youtransfer to shore duty again have them sent to your new station."

  Following this sound advice the boys proceeded to divide theirpossessions into two lots. Even then it did not seem possible to carryalong everything laid out for their taking.

  "Now dump the whole outfit on your bunk," directed Miller, "and firstfold your blankets and clothing in the way you have been taught. Thedetachment will travel in blues, so before doing anything else run downto the Post Tailor and tell him to press them in a hurry and send themup. Here, Cabell, you take both uniforms with you and Comstock willhelp you on your return."

  Henry picked up the new blue uniforms, which the boys had not worn asyet, and hurried to the Post Tailor. Then proceeding under his ableinstructor, Dick first packed his knapsack to its limit. Two blankets,three suits of khaki, two O.D. shirts, three suits of summer underwear,one pair of tan shoes, six pairs of socks, a towel or two, and histoilet articles, one by one disappeared into the enchanted bag. Hisovercoat, recently issued him, was rolled and tied in straps to the topof the pack after fastening down the flaps by means of the rawhidethongs. In the meantime Henry had returned.

  "Put that extra pair of tan shoes in your haversack with all the rest ofyour odds and ends," advised their instructor. "You will wear legginsand campaign hats, though personally I think it a poor combination withblues, and you can hook your blue cap to the pack after you get it on."

  "Sergeant, didn't you tell me that marines used to have dress coats withlong skirts, black spiked helmets, white helmets and white uniforms?"asked Dick, while he stowed away a little pocket edition of the NewTestament in his haversack as the final act of his work in hand.

  "Yes, that's right," answered Miller.

  "Well, for the love of Mike, how did you ever travel with all that junkand still always be the first to get there when there was troublebrewing?"

  "Indeed it was a question in the old days," said Miller reminiscently,"but you must understand that when hurry-up orders came along we tookwhat was needed for the work in hand and no extra stuff at all. When wemade a permanent change of station then we hauled along our wholeequipment, and what we could not carry on our backs was shipped to us bythe Quartermaster."

  "About how much do you reckon this knapsack weighs, Sergeant?" askedHenry.

  "I should say at least sixty pounds--that means all your equipment, andit is about the weight you would carry on a regular hike, counting armsand ammunition and all that. Now when you boys come to leave ship andgo to a shore station, you will be surprised to find how much more junkyou will have to send ashore than you took on board. It's always theway. Things accumulate, and you never seem to know where they all comefrom. Many a souvenir and trinket I've left behind or lost in my timewhich I'd like to have right now. If you are able to, take my adviceand send all your little keepsakes back to your home people. The daywill come when you will have a heap of fun looking them over and livingagain the pleasure you experienced in acquiring them."

  Word having been passed for the detachment to "fall in" for the O.D.'sfinal inspection, Dick and Henry struggled into their harness. Canteensand haversacks were slung by their leather straps over oppositeshoulders and the galling heavy knapsacks adjusted as comfortably aspossible. Besides these impedimenta each boy was armed with a web beltfrom which hung a forty-five calibre Colt's revolver in a fair leatherholster, tightly strapped to the right leg to prevent swinging. Dickwas also loaded down with his drum and sticks, and Henry carried histrumpet with the red trumpet cord attached. The other men of thedetachment carried their Springfields--among the best military rifles inthe world--and bayonets in leather scabbards.

  The trip to Philadelphia and its Navy Yard, where the _Denver_ waslying, occupied a little over three hours, so that the men from theWashington Barracks reported on board their future home in time forevening mess call.

  First Sergeant Stephen Douglass, commanding the Marine Detachment of theU.S.S. _Denver_, a gray-haired, clean-shaven, wiry little man, was knownthroughout the service as a "sea-going marine." Never, if he couldprevent it, would he serve at a barracks, and his length of service andknown ability generally secured a respect for his wishes from hissuperiors. The meal having been quickly disposed of by the newarrivals, he called them to his tiny office to assign them theirstations.

  "Here is where we begin our web-footed existence," whispered Dick toHenry as they stood waiting their turn outside the door.

  "It is a little bit of a boat, isn't it?" irrelevantly answered Henry.

  "Don't say 'boat,'" cautioned Dick, "for in the Navy everything bigenough to fly a commissioned officer's pennant is dignified by beingcalled a ship."

  "What is a 'commissioned officer's pennant'?" inquired Henry.

  "It is a long narrow flag tapering to a point, with the wide part nearthe hoist, where it is attached, you know--blue with thirteen whitestars in the field, and the rest is divided in half lengthwise with ared and a white stripe. Vessels commanded by a commissioned officer ofthe Navy only are entitled to fly it at the truck of the mainmast."

  "Thanks, Dick; I reckon I am pretty green, but what's a 'truck'? Itsounds like a wagon of some sort!"

  "That is the name given to the very top of a mast or flagstaff. You'llsoon pick up these little points," said Dick generously. "I just happento know some of them because of being brought up in an old whaling portand having seen and known about ships all my life; but I've a lot tolearn myself."

  First Sergeant Douglass now called the boys in to interview them.

  "Your first duty, eh?" he said after adjusting his glasses and glancingover the enlistment record which accompanies every marine in histravels. "Either of you know anything about a ship?" and he looked up atthe two youngsters with an approving gaze.

  Dick said nothing, but Henry spoke for him:

  "Drummer Comstock does; he has been making me acquainted with some ofthe many things I never knew before."

  "To-morrow morning I'll have Corporal Dorlan take all the new arrivalsover the ship, and I want you two musics to become acquainted with everynook and corner of her. You will have to act as messengers for theOfficer of the Deck and must be ready to go to any place and find anyperson without hesitation. If you shouldn't happen to know where theplace or person or thing is located then you must be prepared to knowhow and where to find out about 'em in the most expeditious manner. TheOfficer of the Deck can't be bothered with questions, so it's up to themessenger to know."

  "Is Corporal Dorlan any relation to a Sergeant Michael Dorlan who was onthe _Nantucket_?" asked Richard.

  "Couldn't be closer related," answered the First Sergeant; "he is oneand the same person. Do you know him?"

  "I should say I do," beamed Dick; "he saved the life of a boy friend ofmine this past summer; but I thought he was a sergeant."

  "He was a sergeant, but unfortunately an enemy of Dorlan's got the
bestof him, and he was reduced to the rank of corporal by sentence of acourt-martial."

  "My, I'm sorry to hear that," returned Dick, honestly grieved over themisfortune of his brave acquaintance.

  "Yes, boys, everyone who knows Mike Dorlan is sorry, and I hope neitherof you will ever have an enemy like his, nor a 'court' against yourrecord, nor any other kind of an offense, for that matter. Your slateis clean now; keep it so, and when you've finished your enlistmentyou'll be wearing one of these,--and proud of it too, I'll warrant."

  * * * * * * * * *

  The Marine Corps Good Conduct Medal]

  THE MARINE CORPS GOOD CONDUCT MEDAL

  Awarded to any enlisted man in the corps at the expiration of hisenlistment who receives a mark of "Excellent" and who has not been triedby Court-Martial. If the man reenlists the possession of this medalentitles him to receive 83-1/2 cents a month additional pay. If at theend of subsequent enlistment he receives the Excellent discharge--abronze bar is awarded to be attached to the ribbon and suitablyengraved. These bars also bring additional monthly pay.

  * * * * * * * * *

  The old sergeant opened a little drawer of his desk and took from it abronze medal suspended from a bar of like metal by a bright red silkribbon through the center of which ran a narrow band of deep blue.Across the ribbon, almost covering it, were other narrow bronze bandsfastened.

  "This here is a Marine Corps Good Conduct Medal, and each of the smallerbands of bronze means a renewal of the medal's original significance fora whole enlistment. But to earn one of these you must 'mind your p'sand q's' and be 'Johnnie on the spot' if it is your duty to be there atall."

  After the boys finished their examination of the trophy, the FirstSergeant continued:

  "Now to return to business. Comstock, your pay number is six, yourwatch number is seven-twenty-one, your locker number, twenty-three, andyou are in the port watch; your station at 'Abandon Ship' is in thesailing launch. Yours, Cabell, are, pay number, seven; watch number,seven-three-naught-seven; locker number, twenty-four, and you are in thesteamer for 'Abandon Ship.' Report to the Police Sergeant, get yourlocker keys, draw your hammicks and find out where you swing. You willfind plenty of work to keep you busy from now till 'taps.' Remember, Iam always ready to listen to your complaints if you have any and willright them if able, but I also expect you to do your duty up to thehandle. And just a word more before you go. The marines of thisdetachment are proud of their reputation of being the best looking,cleanest, smartest division on this ship. You are now responsible thatthat standard isn't lowered in the slightest degree. You will find acopy of the ship's routine on the Bulletin Board in our compartment.That's all."

  The sergeant rose as he finished his talk and both boys hadunconsciously straightened up to the position of attention. At theirdismissal they simultaneously rendered the old veteran a militarysalute, but First Sergeant Stephen Douglass was too much the proper andprecise marine to accept an honor to which he was not entitled.

  "Wait!" he commanded as they turned to leave the office, "you saluteonly commissioned or warrant officers in our service, nevernon-commissioned or petty-officers, except at certain prescribed timesduring drill or ceremonies. Run along."

  "I knew better than to salute him," said Henry while they were waitingfor Police Sergeant Bruckner to return from some duty he was at the timeengaged in, "but somehow it seemed to be the only proper thing to do, hewas so fine."

  "Glad to hear you talk like that, Hank, old boy! I told you that theN.C.O.'s were a pretty fine lot when you get to know them," and Dick wasvery well pleased that his friend was beginning to come to his own wayof thinking.

  Outside the office were the rest of the men who had journeyed with them,all waiting to draw hammocks. None of these men had served at seabefore this, consequently their conception of a "hammock" was formedfrom those artistic things of net, made up in gay colors which decoratedthe piazzas and lawns ashore. It was quite a different article thatPolice Sergeant Bruckner dealt out to each of them. It consisted of awhite piece of canvas, six feet long by three and one-half feet wide.Across either end eyelets were worked, through which passed the smalllines called "nettles," and these in turn were fastened to a galvanizediron ring. These last two articles combined were called the hammock"clews." In addition to these, a manila rope lanyard was spliced to oneof the rings to facilitate swinging the hammock between hooks fixedrigidly, in almost every conceivable corner, to the overhead beams ofthe ship. Each man's hammock had a small piece of canvas sewed to itabout eighteen inches from the head upon which was his watch number instencil. These watch numbers corresponded to the numbers over the hookswhere their hammock berths or sleeping places were located. Every manon shipboard who swings in a hammock has two issued to him; one of themis in constant use and the other kept below in the sail-room, eachdivision stowing their own hammocks separately in large canvas bags madefor the purpose.

  Mattresses made of "kapok"[#] and mattress covers were also given eachman, and with these articles under their arms the new arrivals returnedto the marines' compartment where, after receiving the keys to theirlockers, they proceeded to "stow away their gear."

  [#] Kapok is the product of a tropical American tree which wasintroduced into the Island of Java and there extensively cultivated. Thetree has numerous uses. It puts forth a pod somewhat similar to amilkweed pod, filled with seeds to which a cottony substance isattached. This fibre is impervious to water and consequently beingbuoyant has been found to be better than cork for use inlife-preservers. Of late years our navy has utilized great quantitiesof kapok in making sea mattresses, which in emergency could be used aslife rafts,--also jacket life preservers. Kapok is very inflammable.

  "This is like having the 'makings' for a cigarette and not being able toroll one," remarked Henry, as he gazed ruefully at the heavy canvas, therings, strings and rope, his mattress and blankets, lying on the deck athis feet.

  "The only difference being we don't smoke, while we do sleep," sagelyadded Dick. "Perhaps some of these other fellows will initiate us intothe mysteries of this folding bed. Let's ask them."

  With the help of willing hands the clews were soon tied in place,mattress and blankets rolled inside the canvas, and the lashingsproperly made. Then their long sausage-like beds were stowed away in thehammock nettings to remain until the proper time came for reissuing themto their owners, which was regulated by routine calls and schedule.

  "I've learned another sea-going expression," said Henry as the two boysfinally completed their work, "and that is, never call a 'hammock'anything but a 'hammick,' or they will know you are a rookie."

  At taps the boys found it to be quite an athletic feat to get into thoseswinging contraptions, but having once succeeded they settled down for awell earned sleep. But who ever heard of rookies coming on board shipfor the first night who escaped at least one tumble to the hard deckbelow, sent there by the sharp knife blade drawn across the taut footrope, in the hand of the omnipresent practical joker? And theexperience of the two music boys this first night on board the _Denver_was in no way different from hundreds of others before them.

  Richard and Henry found the daily routine on board ship very pleasant.At first Henry was inclined to feel peeved because there was not acommissioned officer in command of the marine detachment which washonored by his presence. But he admired First Sergeant Douglass, anddaily he was losing his snobbish ideas regarding his messmates.Shipboard life is a much closer relationship than life in the barracks,and he was beginning to find that manhood did not necessarily go hand inhand with riches, polished manners and a finely branched family tree.At the first opportunity, Richard had made himself known to CorporalDorlan, and that worthy individual acted much in the status of guide andmentor to the two boys, nor could they have had a better, for thoughMichael was his own worst enemy, where others were concerned, he wasconstantly p
reaching against the "Demon Rum," as he dubbed the agent ofhis misfortune.

  "'Twould be far better for me," said he sadly, "if the powers that benever would promote me. For whinever I git to be a sergeant, thenbegorra, I always have to celebrate, and it's all off with old Mike."

  Having taken the necessary stores aboard for her cruise, the gunboatquietly slipped from her berth one brisk morning in November and wassoon on her way down the broad reaches of the Delaware River. At theDelaware Breakwater the pilot was dropped. Many of the crew tookadvantage of this opportunity to send ashore last messages and letters,for the _Denver_ was bound for the West Indies; her first port of entrywould be Culebra Island, and her first landfall Porto Rico, a six days'voyage.

  It is a peculiar fact of ocean travel that whenever a ship is about toput to sea the general topic of conversation seems to hover around onepoint--seasickness. Everywhere one turned that beautiful morning thefatal word pursued one.

  "Ever been seasick, Jack?"

  "Well, only onct in a big typhoon coming across from Formosa," or:

  "Nuh, this is the first time I've been to sea, but I've struck her somerough in the lakes, and I guess I can stand it," or:

  "Son, if you get sick and want a quick cure, take a nice piece of fatpork, tie a string to it and----" but why go into further detail, whenthe men who never before had seen blue water were half sick before theyleft the wharf, so vivid their imagination, and thoroughly sick whenfinally the _Denver_ began digging her nose in the short seas theyencountered on leaving the protection of the inland waterways!

  Henry Cabell had fully determined he would not be seasick, but the sightof so many in that predicament placed his resolutions in the realm ofother broken vows, and he was soon _hors de combat_. Dick, on thecontrary, never felt the slightest discomfort, over which good fortunehe was highly elated. He did not do as many others did, namely, gloatover the misery of the less fortunate ones.

  The evening of the second day out found nearly all the sick men on theupper decks, albeit many were "green in the gills" from their unpleasantexperience.

  "You feel as if you didn't care whether you died or not," said Henry,while he and Dick stood at the bow of the ship holding to the life-linesthat encompassed the entire main deck, "but I don't reckon I'll be sickagain. I feel nearly all right now, and even this sudden dipping andstomach-dropping rising hardly gives me a squirm."

  Dick did not answer. He was hanging over the rail looking down at theslight lines of phosphorescence spreading out in quivering angles fromthe bows with each plunge of the ship. He was enjoying every moment ofthis new life. No longer did he regret his inability to get theappointment to Annapolis, for already the spell of the Marine Corps wasclutching at every fibre of his being, claiming him body and soul forits service. In the crew's library he had found a copy of Collum'sHistory of the Corps and for the first time he was reveling in itsillustrious deeds from the day of its inception, which antedated theregular Navy and even the Declaration of Independence,--November 11,1775, up to and including the part they took in the relief of Pekin inJuly, 1900. As they stood there, Corporal Dorlan, making the round ofsentinels, stopped for a moment's converse.

  "How goes it, me lad?" he inquired of Henry, and without waiting for areply, he continued, "To-morrow we'll be findin' of ourselves in thewaters of the Gulf Stream, and ye will believe that ye never saw suchblue water in yer livin' born days. And ye will keep on believin' thattill ye see the waters of the Caribbean and then ye will be changin' themoind of ye, like as not."

  "I'd rather see some good brown earth and a little green grass at thispresent moment," said Henry, wistfully.

  "And there'll be a-plenty of both on this cruise, I'm thinkin'," saidMike cheerfully. "But do you know where we're goin'? If ye don't thenI'll tell ye. We're bound for Treasure Island, and a foine place it isto roam around in for a bit. Ye can't git lost and ye can't git intotrubble unless ye look for it, and that's more'n ye can say for mostplaces. Its right name is Culebra, which is the Spanish for 'shnake,'but some feller wrote a wonderful story about it under the name I'vejust mentioned to ye, so like as not if ye look in the right spot ye mayyet find some of the old pirates' buried gold. Heigho!--I'd better be onme way, for it's about time to make me report of lights to the bridge.Good-night, me lads," and off he tramped.

  "And as a better man than I just said," remarked Dick a few momentslater, "'Heigho! I'd better be on me way'; let us get to bed."

  "I second the motion," said Henry, "for I'm getting sick of this motion,and the 'hammick' sounds good to me. Maybe by to-morrow I won't bebluer than the Gulf Stream, after a good night's rest."