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Karl Mueller, who was 3rd watchkeeper in the Yorck, and Adolf Hilfsbaumer, who was captain of G.176, are the two I know best. They are both doing a few trips as second in commands of the later U.C. boats, which are mine-laying off the English coasts. This is a most dangerous operation, and nearly all the U.C. boats are commanded by reserve officers, of whom there are a good many in the Mess.
Besides, they are such tiny children . . ." There are many skippers' missuses, but only one mother of Georgina, Jane, and Cornelius James. The First Lieutenant capitulated. "I vote we don't have any grown-ups, either," contributed the Junior Watchkeeper, "except ourselves. Mothers and nurses always spoil children's parties."
Will you all look after the boys?" Freckles fell to the lot of the Junior Watchkeeper; David, specialist in raspberry puffs, had already attached himself to the Indiarubber Man. The A.P. found himself leading off a young gentleman with an air-gun which he earnestly desired as a bed-fellow.
Skipper was rather peevish, wasn't he, Peter?" The Junior Watchkeeper grunted and turned over on to his other side. "Well, you nearly opened fire on a northern diver in that flat calm at dawn the other morning." The speaker cocked a drowsy eye on the mess from under his cap-peak. "Silly ass vowed it was the periscope of an enemy's submarine coming to the surface."
It was the customary warning that the officers' boat would be alongside in five minutes. The Assistant Clerk ran distractedly for the ladder. "There's one 'G'! Have I got time to borrow five bob from the messman before the boat shoves off?" "You might borrow five bob for me while you're about it," shouted a belated Engineroom Watchkeeper, struggling into his clothes.
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