Don Martin's diary entry for Tuesday, December 25, 1917:
At sea – 383 miles. Christmas
At sea – 383 miles. Christmas
Indications that the passengers are at high tension appear as we
keep approaching the war zone. Many of the officers of the Army and Navy are
pessimistic. Everyone is hoping for stormy weather, as they prefer any kind of
tempest to submarines. Passengers are most of the time scanning the horizon. We
are not yet in war zone but as the subs are likely to appear anywhere - people
are nervous. I’m a bit concerned myself because of the large number of
uniformed officers aboard. The Germans would probably shell any boats they
might put off in and every lifeboat would have some. The passengers filled 12
stockings and presented them to children in 2 and 3 cabins. A soldier
impersonated Santa Claus.
Tomorrow at 10 a.m. two torpedo destroyers will take us in charge.
Stayed up late. Everyone did. Weather is calm. Moon out like a silver ball. We
can be seen for miles. Few people went to bad. All want to be ready to get out
quick. Russell and I sat up till 4. Then I had a nap.
Weather calm
Letter from Don Martin to Dorothy.
Christmas,
1917
2300 miles
from New York
Dorothy:
We had a Santa Claus at sea after all.
Last night he appeared from somewhere and left eleven stockings filled with all
kinds of things hanging up in the music room. With each one also was a doll and
such odd looking dolls. On each stocking was the name of some little child
either in the second or third cabin. There are only eleven on the ship so you
see Santa Claus overlooks nobody. At eleven o’clock this morning, just after
there had been a divine service in the big dining room (I attended too), Santa
Claus appeared on deck, dressed in a red coat and fur hat, with big boots and a
white beard. He had a pack on his back and over his arms were many things. He
went up on the top deck to speak to the captain, to whom he gave something.
Then he wished a happy New Year to all the officers of the ship and after that
strolled leisurely around the main deck, bowing and smiling. It’s a pretty
close view to have of Santa Claus. He went down two companion ways to the
second class cabin and gave to each of the children there a doll and a
stocking. Then he went down to the steerage or third cabin and did the same
thing. Some of the children are as big as Joseph but most are smaller. One
little girl asked him if “Santa Claus came in a submarine.”
All of a sudden Santa Claus
disappeared. Some people on board thought they were smart, said Santa Claus was
one of the army officers dressed up but I didn’t recognize him as any such
thing. ... Last night after midnight the English cooks, stewards, waiters, etc.
marched around the cabin entrances singing Christmas carols. It is an English
custom you know. They sang them pretty well too. About 1 o’clock another man
and I were walking to the aft deck when we heard singing from another source.
We traced it to the stairway leading to the steerage. There were about 100
American sailors – on their way to join their crews in England and France ---
singing the Star Spangled Banner, Old Kentucky Home, Suwanee River, Down in
Tennessee and many other American songs. They were having a great old time. So
you see that, even if we are in the region where a German submarine is liable
to blow us up people are not melancholy. Quite a few persons stayed up all
night because they were told that we would enter the submarine zone during the
night. I cannot exactly say I blame them because many of them have berths below
the water line and a torpedo might blow out their berths.
It is rather astonishing to see how
indifferent 600 people can be in the presence of momentary danger. Everyone
knows that a submarine could sink our ship if it should happen to be in our
neighborhood. Nearly all the passengers say they are not alarmed but it is
obvious that they are all at high tension nevertheless. Few persons are
sleeping around the deck as they were two or three days ago. They are all
alert. Their eyes are wide open to catch the first view of one of those
terrifying periscopes. Up in the crow’s nest there are four bluejackets with
strong glasses, scanning every inch of the horizon. In the extreme bow are two
sailors doing the same thing. On the bridge are the captain and four of his
officers. Along the decks on both sides are sailors on watch and standing
beside the big six inch gun astern, the two four inch guns forward and the two
four inchers amidships are gun crews ready to fire at an instant’s notice. The ship’s
captain does not expect to leave the bridge from now till we reach Liverpool –
58 hours hence. We have not quite reached the real danger zone.
We will strike it this evening about
8 o’clock and will be in it then until we reach Liverpool. It would be
consoling if we had a convoy but we will not get one till tomorrow morning. Two
torpedo boat destroyers will cavort around us like porpoises from the time we
reach them till we get into Liverpool harbor. The passengers say they wish they
were here now. They cannot prevent a submarine from shooting a torpedo but
their presence scares the submarines and furthermore the destroyers can pick up
passengers who fall into the ocean.
The surface of the sea now – 3 p.m.
here now but just noon in Silver Creek – is very smooth. There is a long very
low swell but one could keep afloat in a canoe. It is seldom like that in the
winter. It is propitious for submarines. Last night was moonlight in the early
hours and the people were worried because, although we are painted up to look
like the sea, at night we must stand out against the horizon like a mountain,
and could be seen by any lurking underwater craft. At ten o’clock clouds
appeared and it was fairly dark after that. No one can tell yet how it will be
tonight, but inasmuch as it is the most nerve-racking night we will have,
people are hoping for clouds and a storm. Although the passengers insist for
the most part that they are not afraid, it is quite noticeable that the only
subject they take interest in is submarines.
When I finish writing to you Dorothy I
shall go on deck and walk around with the other people, keeping my eyes open
too. It is not very pleasant in my cabin, notwithstanding it is roomy. The air
is not warm and the atmosphere is always more or less damp ... We have not had
a flake of snow at sea. It is more like April than December. As we near Ireland
it probably will get colder and when we get to London there will unquestionably
be rain and fog. There is certain to be bad weather in London at this time of
year ....
There will be a special Christmas
dinner tonight. They will have turkey. They have almost too much to eat all the
time. Still we all have good appetites...
Merry Christmas to you and Joseph,
even if I am not there to help you have it. I’ll bet Santa Claus was pretty
good to both of you. He ought to be. Did you ever write your letter to Santa
this year?
With love,
Dad
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