He fell to watching the convoys with their bristling guns and the
intricate tackle used in this modern game of war at sea. They
looked capable, every inch of them, and deadly in their
efficiency. Yet occasionally the deadly U-boat claimed one of
these as a victim. Once more his eyes roved over the big
transport.
It was packed and jammed with men. They were quartered in every
possible place. Happy, jolly fellows, full of the finest courage
in the world, ready for anything, eager for the next adventure,
meeting victory with modesty, accepting disaster with a smile.
The rails on each side of the ship were lined with men watching,
watching like himself, yet with a difference.
The Colonel smiled as he guessed the eagerness with which they
hoped for a sight of a submarine. Not a man of them there wanted
to drown, but he wanted to see a sub, and with the hopefulness of
his character he felt that the chances were good for getting away
before any damage was done.
Still thinking of the boys he had loved so well, he leaned once
more over the rail, his sad blue eyes searching the sea. Waves
and sky; waves and sky; a gull in the distance but nothing else.
For an hour he stood there thinking, forgetful of his promise to
go below, staring about, searching the vastness for a sign of the
danger that lurked everywhere, the terrible U-boats; but he
looked and saw nothing.
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