Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1904-09-23
JUST BEFORE THE BATTLE.
What a Naval Engagement Means To
Modern Ship.

A fleet Of six battleships Is steam
ing rapidly in calm sea. Far ahead
of the fleet can be distinguished the
hulls and slender masts Of several cruis-
ers. These are the scouts, the "eyes'
of the fleet, upon which the admiral
relies for news Of the enemy's move
ments. Other cruisers, out of sight OF
the battle fleet, are securing the seas
upon some prearranged plan Let U.s.
however. confine our attention to the
clads are all of one type. forming a
homogeneous squadron. Each is of
$4,000 tons displacement, Of equal
speed and carries similar guns. To
the eyes Of the landsmen they are like
as half dozen dried peas and their
similarity is accentuated by the gray
paint that covers them from truck
to water line. They are formed in two
not as yet in order Of bat
tie. The two leading ships each fly
an admirars flag. The divisions are
six cables apart (1,200 yards,) but the
space between each unit Is but 400
yards, and this interval, you will no.
tice, is maintained with an accuracy
won by constant practice. Little
smoke issues from the tall gray fun
nels. In the smooth sea the heavy
ships have no perceptible motion,
though you can see they are making
progress by the white foam at the
bows and by the broad ribbon Of foam
up by the twin screws Of each
vessel.
Sighting the Enemy.
Presently a red and white answer
ing pennant streams from the mast
head Of the flag ship. One Of the
scouts is signalling. She begins to
close with the squadron. One per-
ceives that other and more distant
cruisers are also steaming back to the
fleet. We guess the reason long be-
fore our keen-eyed signalman can dis
tinguish the message. The enemy has
been sighted some twenty miles to
the eastward. Such Is the welcome
news. At once the flag ship runs up
the signal: Prepare for action; form
the order for battle" For in these
days of fast steaming twenty miles
affords but comfortable
breathing space unless the enemy de-
cides to run away. II he is bearing
down upon us we may be within range
Of him in a quarter Of an hour. Such,
1t seems, is his design, so our ships
must form at once into single line.
let US note what preparations are
being made for the coming battle. The
game has been rehearsed often enough
so often, indeed, that we can hard
ly realize that this Is at last the real
thing, the grim reality. Take any ship
at random. The same preparations
are being made on all. Seven hundred
men are going about their ordinary
business. Suddenly a bugle blares out
the familiar call to General quarters"
and ere the harsh notes have died a.
way every man begins to run to his
appointed station. Some make toward
the great barbettes, where the twelve
inch guns are snugly eheltered; some
for the armored classmates isolating
the six-inch weapons; others run to
the light, quick-firers mounted upon
the superstructure. Others, again,
and these mostly non-combatants Qf
any such can be in a ship Of war),
hurry below to the shell rooms and
Great Barbette Guns.
The great shells for the barbette
guns are being placed on the hydrau-
lie lifts. A lever is pressed and up
they go. Another moment and they
have reached the breech Of the gun. A
gunner closes the heavy mechanism of
the breech with one hand. Run out"
orders the officer Of the turret. An
other lever does the business. The en-
ormous weapons glide smoothly out
ward, their long necks projecting over
board as the barbette is trained. A
dozen men and one officer complete
the crew Of this pair Of heavy guns.
The officer stands upon a little plat
form, peering above the turret with
a voice tube at his ear. The captain
of the turret is peering through the
telescope sights.
Glance into one Of the isolated case
mates, the thick, armored door Is shut
now, inclosing the six-inch gun and its
crew in a box Of steel. The gun has
been cast loose, trained on the beam
and loaded within four minutes of
the bugle call. Reserves Of shot and
shell are being whipped up into the
easements through a round aperture
leading to the shell room below. Twen-
ty or thirty rounds soon accumulate,
and the guns crews will stake their
lives against the entry Of a shell
through the casemate. Here. too, is
an officer waiting directions through
q voice tube. The men have stripped
to their fannels and trousers. A tub
Of lime juice stands in a corner.
Down in the bowels Of the ship the
torpedo men are clustered around their
submerged tubes. With great care they
are adjusting the Whiteheads, and
their movements are slower than those
of the gunners, since the chance for
a shot will not come early in the fight.
Yet lucky shot from the enemy might
explode the torpedo in the tube. They
accept the risk, these quiet-lookins
men, and long for close range later on.
They will show the gunnery branch
what a Whitehead can do.
Waiting For the Signal.