Produced by Jim Ludwig
THE BRIGHTON BOYS WITH THE SUBMARINE FLEET
by
Lieutenant James R. Driscoll
CHAPTERS
I. Good-by, Brighton
II. Down in a Submarine
III. Sealed Orders
IV. Somewhere in the North Sea
V. The German Raiders
VI. Rammed by a Destroyer
VII. In a Mine Field
VIII. A Rescue
IX. Vive La France!
X. Attacked from the Sky
XI. In the Fog
XII. Yankee Camouflage
XIII. The Survivors
XIV. On the Bottom of the Sea
XV. The Human Torpedo
XVI. In the Wireless Station
XVII. Up from the Depths
XVIII. In the Rat's Nest
XIX. Capturing a U-Boat
XX. The Mother Ship
XXI. Trapped
XXII. Yankee Ingenuity
XXIII. Out of the Net
XXIV. Into Zeebrugge
XXV. Chlorine Gas
XXVI. The Stars and Stripes
"Wanted: young men to enlist in Uncle Sam's submarine fleet for servicein European waters."
The magic words stood out in bold type from the newspaper that JackHammond held spread out over his knees. Underneath the caption rana detailed statement setting forth the desire of the United StatesGovernment to recruit at once a great force of young Americans to manthe undersea ships that were to be sent abroad for service againstGermany.
Stirred by the appeal, Jack snatched the paper closer and read everyword of the advertisement, his eyes dancing with interest.
"Your country needs you now!" it ran; and further on:
"The only way to win the war is to carry it right home to the foe!"
Below, in more of the bold type, it concluded:
"Don't delay a moment—-while you hesitate your country waits!"
From beginning to end Jack read the appeal again. Before his eyesin fancy flashed the picture of a long, lithe steel vessel skimmingthe ocean, captain and crew on the lookout for the enemy, the Starsand Stripes flapping from the tailrail. For an instant he imaginedhimself a member of the crew, gazing through the periscope at agiant German battleship—-yes, firing a torpedo that leaped away tofind its mark against the gray steel hull of the foe!
Up in the dormitories some chap was nimbly fingering "Dixie" on themandolin. The strains came down to the youth on the campus throughthe giant oak trees that half obscured the facade of "old Brighton."Over on the athletic field a bunch of freshmen "rookies" of theschool battalion were being put through the manual of arms by aninstructor. Jack could hear the command: "Present arms!"
"I guess that means me," he said to himself. And why not? Hadn'tJoe Little and Harry Corwin and Jimmy Hill left school to join theaviation service? Weren't Jed Flarris and Phil Martin and a bunchof Brighton boys in Uncle Sam's navy? And hadn't Herb Whitcomb andRoy Flynn made history in the first-line trenches? Yes, the boys ofBrighton were doing their bit.
In another moment Jack had crushed the newspaper into his pocket—-hisdecision made—-jumped from the bench under the old oak tree and wasspeeding across the campus in the direction of the main dormitoryentrance. Without waiting for the elevator he leaped the steps, threeat a time, running up to the third floor, and thence down the corridorto No. 63—-his "home," and that of his chum, Ted Wainwright.
Out of breath, he hurled himself into the