TRANSCRIBED FROM THE ARKANSAS GAZETTE JUNE 30, 1918 P. 19
I will write a few lines tonight to let you hear from me and of a few happenings on my last trip across. We had a little bad luck. When we were about 900 miles out from New York we had a man to jump overboard. It was at 6:30 p. m. We ran the signals up and blew the whistle for a “man overboard.” We gunners lowered away lifeboat to rescue him, if we possibly could, although the seas were rough, but you know he was some poor mother’s son, so why not risk your life to save him? The ship’s crew also lowered a boat. The man swam for about an hour, I would say, but we could not get to him. After he went down we turned to row for the ship and the seas were running higher all the time. We had almost given up all hope. It had gotten dark. They lit up the ship so we could see it, that gave us new courage. It was about 9:45 p. m. when we got safely back aboard the old Minnesota.
Everything ran nicely until we got within 300 miles of Liverpool, when two of the Huns’ good-looking subs came to the surface of the water to greet us with a few shots. We had six English torpedo destroyers with us. They were 6,800 yards away. We fired 21 shots and the destroyers fired several and a destroyer ran over the sub after it submerged and dropped some depth charges and blew her up, so got through that with a little excitement.
Reached Liverpool safely. I went on a five-day leave at London. Had a real nice time while over there this trip. I sailed for God’s country the first part of June. When about 100 miles out of Liverpool a nice little sub came up on our starboard beam. We opened fire with three guns and gave them a warm reception and sent her to Davy Jones’ locker with lots of others.
When we were 1,000 miles out of Liverpool we sighted a ship in the distance which we thought was a German sea raider. We broke out ammunition and were standing by all guns ready to open fire at any second when we saw the American flag run up to the cross arm on a forward mast, so we knew it was one of our ships in distress. She came alongside and signaled over about a little collision that had happened to a convoy of ships and at 3:30 p. m. we picked up 81 sailors and officers that were shipwrecked on the U. S. S. Zaanland and brought them back to the states.
When we were 300 miles out of New York we got a wireless about submarines operating around Nantucket light, so we started the danger zone watches again, but didn’t have any trouble. I am afraid that we will have lots of trouble this next trip. I am not afraid of it, but I look for it—I mean to say, we know they have been operating right here in our own waters. So we are in danger from the time we go out of nets here until we cross the bar in Liverpool, but it is all in the life in this man’s war. I have gotten used to being in danger and don’t notice it so much now.
I expect to come home for three or four days about October 1, if possible, and I think I can get leave all right.
W. C. Carroll.
NOTES: This partial letter was written by W. C. Carroll of Clark County to Senator George W. Garrett of Okolona, Arkansas. Carroll was 19 when he enlisted in the Navy.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
I will write a few lines tonight to let you hear from me and of a few happenings on my last trip across. We had a little bad luck. When we were about 900 miles out from New York we had a man to jump overboard. It was at 6:30 p. m. We ran the signals up and blew the whistle for a “man overboard.” We gunners lowered away lifeboat to rescue him, if we possibly could, although the seas were rough, but you know he was some poor mother’s son, so why not risk your life to save him? The ship’s crew also lowered a boat. The man swam for about an hour, I would say, but we could not get to him. After he went down we turned to row for the ship and the seas were running higher all the time. We had almost given up all hope. It had gotten dark. They lit up the ship so we could see it, that gave us new courage. It was about 9:45 p. m. when we got safely back aboard the old Minnesota.
Everything ran nicely until we got within 300 miles of Liverpool, when two of the Huns’ good-looking subs came to the surface of the water to greet us with a few shots. We had six English torpedo destroyers with us. They were 6,800 yards away. We fired 21 shots and the destroyers fired several and a destroyer ran over the sub after it submerged and dropped some depth charges and blew her up, so got through that with a little excitement.
Reached Liverpool safely. I went on a five-day leave at London. Had a real nice time while over there this trip. I sailed for God’s country the first part of June. When about 100 miles out of Liverpool a nice little sub came up on our starboard beam. We opened fire with three guns and gave them a warm reception and sent her to Davy Jones’ locker with lots of others.
When we were 1,000 miles out of Liverpool we sighted a ship in the distance which we thought was a German sea raider. We broke out ammunition and were standing by all guns ready to open fire at any second when we saw the American flag run up to the cross arm on a forward mast, so we knew it was one of our ships in distress. She came alongside and signaled over about a little collision that had happened to a convoy of ships and at 3:30 p. m. we picked up 81 sailors and officers that were shipwrecked on the U. S. S. Zaanland and brought them back to the states.
When we were 300 miles out of New York we got a wireless about submarines operating around Nantucket light, so we started the danger zone watches again, but didn’t have any trouble. I am afraid that we will have lots of trouble this next trip. I am not afraid of it, but I look for it—I mean to say, we know they have been operating right here in our own waters. So we are in danger from the time we go out of nets here until we cross the bar in Liverpool, but it is all in the life in this man’s war. I have gotten used to being in danger and don’t notice it so much now.
I expect to come home for three or four days about October 1, if possible, and I think I can get leave all right.
W. C. Carroll.
NOTES: This partial letter was written by W. C. Carroll of Clark County to Senator George W. Garrett of Okolona, Arkansas. Carroll was 19 when he enlisted in the Navy.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT