Part 22 (2/2)
”What's that mean?” muttered Sam.
”I think he means we are to stop talking.”
For the next hour there was a steady splash, splash as the swabs worked back and forth over the deck, the latter running rivers of water from hose and pail.
”Well, how do you like Field Day?” questioned the mate who had first instructed the lads in their duties.
It was after the mess hour and all hands were resting preparatory to taking up the duties of the afternoon.
”What's a Field Day?” asked Sam.
”When all hands turn to to clean s.h.i.+p. You see, s.h.i.+ps get in rather bad condition, regarding cleanliness, after having been in port for some time.”
”Do the men like to clean s.h.i.+p?”
”They love it. Give a jackie a deck swab, put him in bare feet, and he is happy.”
”I don't see anything to get excited about in scrubbing decks,” grumbled Sam.
”You will after you have been in the service longer. By the way, the smoke lamp is lighted. Fall to, lads.”
”You mean--”
”Go take your smoke. Light up your pipes.”
”We do not smoke, sir,” replied Dan.
”No, we don't smoke,” added Sam. ”But we eat.”
”That is all right. A great many of the boys do not smoke these days, and it is a good thing. Now, in my time, everybody smoked. But things have changed on the sea as well as elsewhere.”
”Attention!” called a voice.
The boys stiffened instinctively. They did not know the reason for the command, but experience had taught them that it was well to obey that command whenever heard.
It was the captain who was approaching, on his way to the bridge.
His hand came up in salute as he glanced quickly at them.
”Carry on, lads,” he said, whereat the Battles.h.i.+p Boys and their s.h.i.+pmates resumed their interrupted conversation.
”You will find the Old Man a splendid officer and very kind to you boys,” said the mate. ”I've been under him for ten years, and there ain't a man in the world who's got a bigger heart than he, especially for the jackies. He loves them, every one of them.”
Soon after that, the boys went forward. Sitting under the s.h.i.+ning twelve-inch guns, either of which would carry an eight hundred pound projectile twelve miles, they talked in low tones until the bugle sounded the command to scrub decks again.
Throughout the afternoon, until eight bells, that is four o'clock, the steady scrub, scrub, continued, the men now and then conversing in low tones.
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