December 25, 1917, Christmas -- Across the Atlantic - Day 6

Don Martin's diary entry for Tuesday, December 25, 1917: 
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