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Updated: September 26, 2025
"A ship at sea calling Newport News," Lieutenant Mackinson informed the other two, who waited impatiently for Joe to begin recording the message. Newport News acknowledged the call, and then the vessel's wireless continued: . . ... . . . .. And Joe, transcribing, wrote: "JASPER." Following this came: .. . . .. ...
"Corporals, you mean, Lieutenant," Jerry corrected. "No, I thought I meant sergeants," the lieutenant repeated. "In fact, I'm quite sure I did." "What do you mean?" Slim demanded eagerly, for the moment forgetting all about their prisoners of war. "Just what I said sergeants," said Lieutenant Mackinson, smiling.
And then, one by one, the soldiers of Uncle Sam dropped off into long and restful slumber slumber that was to fit them for hard and difficult duties ahead. "This is where we get off," finally announced Lieutenant Mackinson, shaking the lads into wakefulness. "We leave the train here and travel the balance of the distance by automobile."
"Back to the tractor," the lieutenant replied. "Hurry! We still have time, but none to waste." "But we can't repair the tractor," Frank argued. "No, we can't," Lieutenant Mackinson admitted, "but we may do something even better than that." "What?" queried all the lads at once. "Come with me and we'll see what can be done."
But to the trained ears of the other men of the party Lieutenant Mackinson, Joe, Jerry and Frank Hoskins two miles away, they carried their call for help. It was the S O S of the international code, but in a new sort of wireless by pistol shots! Trembling for the results that his desperate action might bring upon them, Slim waited, bending now and then over the unconscious form of Tom Rawle.
There, after listening intently for several minutes without hearing a dangerous sound, they spread out their coats, tent-like, while Lieutenant Mackinson, with gingerly flashes of his light, examined the map again, to make certain of their location. They had hardly progressed a hundred feet further when the unlucky Slim tripped and went sprawling on the ground with a pained but suppressed grunt.
A seaman was dispatched for the ship's surgeon, who arrived a few minutes later to find the first-aid efforts of the four men just bringing Lieutenant Mackinson back to consciousness. As the physician forced some aromatic spirits of ammonia between his lips the lieutenant opened his eyes and gazed about vaguely.
"I believe we've become separated from our convoy," said Slim, who had been upon deck, and now entered the wireless room where Joe and Jerry were watching Lieutenant Mackinson make some readjustments of the wireless mechanism. "The pilot doesn't seem to know the course. Say, wouldn't it be great sport if we should be lost from the others? But I wonder why the captain does not wireless them?"
"There was a time," explained Lieutenant Mackinson, "when the sending of a message almost deafened the sender. It was like being in the midst of a machine-gun assault. But recent improvements have eliminated that. You may see for yourselves."
The right front wheel had been crushed to splinters, the axle was bent, and the machine was wedged so far under a split edge of the granite as to be, for the time at least, totally useless. "Better go back to where we were first," Lieutenant Mackinson said at last.
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