Bismarck daily tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1881-1916, 1914-09-23
THE GUNS
Begin TO SHOOT
Inspiring Sight on English Man
of War During Target
Practice.

"t,Lt. U.#H. HUr' o-~S
battleship seems strangely deserted
and bare, for it's decks are denuded
Of men, while all rails and other up.
standing membranes have been
laid fiat on deck.
The gun turrets, five Of them, are
trained round with the long, lean
muzzles of their twin weapons point
ing out over the sea, and every now
and then n of the guns twitches
ever so slightly or a turret revolves
a little, as the gun layers keep theil
sights aligned on the distant target
The ten big rifles the ship carries
are powerful weapons. Each one OF
them is over 80 feet long and weighs
close on 80 tons, while their 1850.
pound shells can be hurled to a dis
lance of Is miles. The enormous
projectiles, too, leave the muzzles al
the rate of 1890 miles an hour, and
can penetrate the thickest armol
atloat at a range of 5000 yards.
No Signs Of Life.
Tut now, as the ship moves on
through the water, vita its sharr
bow sending up two little cascades
of spray on either side of the stem
it looks like a great mastodon uncon.
trOlled by man. There are no signs
of life on bo%ard-nothing except the
twitching gun turrets and the black
smoke rolling from the squat tunnels
which tells of the men laboring be.
low. But every man on board is at
the station he would occupy in ac
ton, and before long the uproar OF
the guns will have begun.
In the coming tower, with it's IL.
inch armor, stands the captain, his
navigating officer, a junior officer or
two, and several other men. The
small, circular erection, barely 10
feet in diameter, seems very cramp-
ed for all it has to contain. .
Above the coming tower is another
armored erection, containing a range
finder, and inside this is the gunnery
lieutenant with half a dozen more Of
ticers and men. He is surrounded by
strange looking Instruments, while
the man at the range finder, with his
eyes at it's rubber eye pieces, is
monotonously chanting out the dis
lance of the approaching target.
Target Miles Away.
To the naked eye the target itself
"a great, lattice work structure,
towed by another battleship-looks
absrrdly small and insignificant al
it's siX-mile range. But the gun lay.
ers in the turrets are provided with
telescope sights, and these, with
their powerful lenses, serve to coun
teract the difficulty.
Inside the turrets themselves the
%expectant men r grouped round
their guns. The great p%rojectiles and
the cordite charges behind them have
already been pushed home by the by
draulic hammers, and, since thei1
weapons are thus fully loaded, the
guns crews are idle for the time be
ing.
But the gun layers-the men who
aim and fire the ,guns-and the train
ers-those who keep them pointing
in the right direction-are anxiously
keeping the sights on the target; and
every now and then, as they move
their small brass handles, there is a
wheeling of machinery, and the great
breaches rise and fall ever so slight
ly, while the whole armored struc.
ture containing them revolves an
inch or SO at a time to keep the
sights on.
"Ready"-"Ready."
A minute or two later, after an or,
der has come from the control posi-.
ton, the lieutenant in charge of the
foremost turret suddenly raps out the
order: Bring both guns to the
ready" hi
The men standing by the breaches
flick over their small levers. Fright
gun ready! LEFT gun ready" they
report in rapid succession.
The range, meanwhile, is decreas-
ing rapidly and about ten seconds
later there comes the strident rafting
CT an electric bell.
It is the signal to open fire. The
gun layer holds his breath, sees the
cross wires of his telescope cutting
the lattice work of the target, anG
then presses an innocent looking
brass %thumbzpiece. AS he does so,
there is a. ROAR, and, with a blaze OF
orange name and a pail of brown
smoke, a projectile weighing more
than half a ton is sailing through
the air on it's way towards the tar
get.
Outside the turret the conclusion
is terrible, but inside it is barely felt,
and the only means the guns crew
has of knowing their weapon has
gone off is by the rocking of the tur-
ret and the recoil Of the gun.
The men, meanwhile, are working
like demons. Someone, by moving a
small lever, has opened the breech.
A cloud Of acrid cordite smoke fills
the turret; but another man, turning
a tap, sends a jet of water spouting
into the chamber to e%xtinguish any
still burning fragments.
Chaos Only in Seeming.
Everything seems chaos, but every
one knows what to do-they have
done it time after time, and in less
than 80 seconds we hear a sharp Or
der: Right gun-load!"
A man moves an upright lever, ana
a miniature lift climbs into view
through the floor. IT has come up
from the shellroom below, laden with
the new charge and %projectile, and
stops dead in the rear of the gun.
Reposing in a tray is the shot it
self. Another lever is worked, and
a flexible chain hydraulic ramlner,
looking like a snake, darts out of its
resting place and pushes the shot be-
fore it into the breech of the gun.
It is driven home with a dull thud.
nho ronmor is Withdrawn another