The Project Gutenberg EBook of Our Navy at war, by Josephus Daniels This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Title: Our Navy at war Author: Josephus Daniels Release Date: November 01, 2020 [EBook #63596] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 Produced by: Carlos Colón, The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR NAVY AT WAR *** Transcriber's Notes: Blank pages have been eliminated. Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the original. A few typographical errors have been corrected. The cover page was created by the transcriber and can be considered public domain. From painting in Navy Department by R. S. Meryman OUR NAVY AT WAR BY JOSEPHUS DANIELS SECRETARY OF THE NAVY 1913 to 1921 Illustrated with Reproductions of Original and Official Photographs Pictorial Bureau Washington, D. C. 1922 COPYRIGHT BY Pictorial Bureau 1922 To the Six Hundred Thousand Men Who Served in the United States Navy and Marine Corps in the World War Manning more than two thousand vessels— Operating with Allied Navies from the Arctic to the Adriatic— Transporting troops and supplies across the Atlantic— Protecting ships from attack and destruction— Driving off and defeating the murderous submarines, You made safe the seas, and Kept open the Road to France, so that, Of all the vast Army sent overseas, Not one soldier on an American troop-ship Lost his life on the way to France. Fighting with the Army, your comrades, The Soldiers of the Sea, won fame in Hard-fought battles that saved Paris, Drove back the German hordes, and Won for Humanity Complete and Glorious Victory. In recognition of your splendid service, your dauntless deeds, this work is dedicated by one who was sometime your commander and always your shipmate. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. When the War Call Came 1 II. "To Be Strong Upon the Seas" 9 III. The Break with Germany 19 IV. The Day of Decision 30 V. Sending Sims to Europe 36 VI. Naval Allies in Historic Conference 45 VII. "We Are Ready Now, Sir" 53 VIII. Race Between Wilson and Hindenburg 70 IX. The Fleet the Kaiser Built for Us 89 X. Guarding the Coast of France 99 XI. Gibraltar and the Convoy 116 XII. Shutting up the Hornets in Their Nests 125 XIII. President Wilson as a Strategist 143 XIV. Comrades of the Mist 151 XV. Cinderellas of the Fleet 161 XVI. "Do Not Surrender"—"Never" 173 XVII. When the U-Boats Came to America 187 XVIII. Marines Stopped Drive on Paris 206 XIX. The Answer to the 75-Mile Gun 218 XX. The Navy That Flies 228 XXI. The Ferry to France 241 XXII. Radio Girdled the Globe 250 XXIII. A Surprise for Count von Luxburg 259 XXIV. American Admiral Saved Kolchak 268 XXV. The Half-Way House 275 XXVI. To Victory on a Sea of Oil 280 XXVII. Edison—and 100,000 More 285 XXVIII. Building a Thousand Ships 297 XXIX. Making Sailors out of Landsmen 309 XXX. Three Hundred Thousand Strong 318 XXXI. Women in the Navy 328 XXXII. Coast Guard Wins Distinction 332 XXXIII. Winning the First Battle of the War 341 XXXIV. Fighting the Profiteers 347 XXXV. "Sirs, All Is Well with the Fleet" 354 XXXVI. After the Armistice 366 ILLUSTRATIONS Josephus Daniels Frontispiece FACING PAGE War Chiefs of the Navy, the Secretary and his Advisory Council 16 A Friendly Bout 17 School Hour Aboard a Battleship 17 President Wilson and the War Cabinet 32 American Dreadnoughts, the Embodiment of Sea Power 33 American Destroyers in Queenstown Harbor 52 The Return of the Mayflower 53 The Surrender of the U-58 58 Crew of the Fanning, which sank the U-58 59 They, Too, Were Ready 67 The Seattle and Rear Admiral Albert Gleaves 68 A Dash through the Danger Zone 68 The Sinking of the President Lincoln 80 The Secretary of the Navy with Captain Dismukes and the men who saved the Mount Vernon 81 The Mount Vernon safely in port after being torpedoed 81 Brest, Center of the Great System of Naval Operations in France 112 A German "Sub" and Some of its Enemies 113 At Gibraltar, Key to the Mediterranean 124 The Great Mine Barrage against the Submarines 125 Planting Mines in the North Sea 128 How the Big Mines in the North Sea Barrage Worked 129 One of the Perils of Mine-Sweeping 136 The Mine-Sweepers Proved Wonderful Sea Boats 136 United States Naval Officers in Important Commands 137 American and British Naval Officials 137 The Transport which carried President Wilson to the Peace Conference 144 Allied Naval Council in Session at Paris 145 Fifth Battle Squadron Joining the British Grand Fleet 160 Surrender of the German High Seas Fleet 161 American Sub-chasers at Corfu, Greece 168 A Flock of Sub-chasers with their Mother-ship 169 Gun-crew of the Luckenbach has a Four-Hour Fight with a Submarine 192 Chief Gunner's Mate Delaney, of the Campana, Defying his Captors 193 The Merchant Submarine Deutschland 193 Leaders of the Marines 208 The Marines in Belleau Wood 209 Naval Railway Battery Firing from Thierville upon Longuyon 224 On the Turret Platform of a Battleship 225 Assembling Naval Airplanes at Brest 228 A Navy Blimp Leaving Hangar at Guipavas, France 229 Naval Aviation Hangars at Guipavas 229 Pauillac, Naval Aviation Station 240 Fliers whose Exploits Brought Prestige to Naval Aviation 241 The Station Whose Messages are Heard around the World 256 The Tablet on the Main Building of the Lafayette Radio Station 257 Eagle Boats at Anchor in the Ice of the White Sea 274 The Half-Way House 275 The Naval Consulting Board and the Navy Department Chiefs 288 Secretary Daniels and Thomas A. Edison 289 Fitting Out for Distant Service 304 Hanging up a Record 305 The Living Flag 320 United States Naval Academy at Annapolis 321 Yeomen (F) in Liberty Loan Parade, New York City 328 Cyclops, the Collier which Disappeared without Leaving a Trace 329 Lost with Every Man on Board (Coast Guard Cutter Tampa) 336 They Saved Survivors of Torpedoed Vessels 337 Gallant Officers of the Coast Guard 337 A General View of Bantry Bay 352 A Close-up View of American "Subs" at Berehaven 352 Rodman and Beatty 353 From Manila to the Adriatic 368 Scorpion, only American Naval Vessel Interned during the War 369 Our Navy at War CHAPTER I WHEN THE WAR CALL CAME NEWS FLASHED TO SHIPS AND STATIONS FIVE MINUTES AFTER PRESIDENT SIGNED DECLARATION—ENTIRE NAVY MOBILIZED AT ONCE—FLEET, ON WAR BASIS SINCE BREAK WITH GERMANY, WAS AT YORKTOWN—"IN BEST STATE OF PREPAREDNESS IT HAD EVER BEEN," ADMIRAL MAYO SAID—OFFICERS AND MEN EAGER FOR ACTION. Five minutes after President Wilson signed the war resolution passed by Congress April 6, 1917, the Navy's radio operators were flashing this message to every ship and station: Sixteen Alnav. The President has signed act of Congress which declares a state of war exists between the United States and Germany. Acknowledge. 131106. Secnav. That dispatch had been prepared hours before. Radio and telegraph operators were at their keys waiting for the word to "let it go." Lieutenant Commander Byron McCandless, my naval aide, was waiting in the executive office at the White House. Lieutenant Commander Royal Ingersoll was stationed at the Navy Department, across the street, watching for the signal. The moment the President appended his signature, McCandless rushed out and wigwagged that the resolution had been signed. Ingersoll dashed down the corridor to the Communication office, and ordered the operators to start the "alnav" (all navy) dispatch. Flashed from the towers at Arlington, in a few minutes it was received by the Atlantic and Pacific fleets, by vessels and stations all along the coast. By radio, telegraph and cable, the message was carried to Panama, across the Pacific to Honolulu, the Philippines, to the vessels on the Asiatic station. By the time the newspaper "extras" were on the street, the naval forces had received notice that we were at war. The fleet was mobilized that afternoon by the following telegram to the five flagships: U. S. S. Pennsylvania U. S. S. Minnesota U. S. S. Seattle U. S. S. Columbia U. S. S. Vestal Flag Sigcode. Mobilize for war in accordance Department's confidential mobilization plan of March 21. Particular attention invited paragraphs six and eight. Acknowledge. Josephus Daniels. [Paragraph 6 assigned the rendezvous of the various forces, and paragraph 8 contained instructions with regard to vessels fitting out at navy yards.] When this message was received by the Atlantic Fleet, at 1:33 p. m., Admiral Henry T. Mayo, Commander-in-Chief, hoisted on his flagship, the Pennsylvania, the signal, "War has commenced." At 5:50 o'clock he received the mobilization order, for which officers and vessels were so well prepared that Admiral Mayo said he did not have to "give a single order of any kind or description to pass the Fleet from a peace to a war basis." The entire Navy— Department, Fleet, yards and stations—was on a war footing within a few hours after war was declared. Complete instructions and plans, brought up to date, had been issued two weeks previous, and mobilization was completed without an hour's delay. The Fleet was at its secret rendezvous "Base 2," to which it had sailed from Hampton Roads on April 3, the day after President Wilson delivered his war message to Congress. "Base 2" was Yorktown, Va., one of the most historic spots [1] [2] in America, and our battleships were in sight of the place where Cornwallis surrendered to George Washington. They rode at anchor in the waters where the timely arrival of De Grasse's ships assured the success of the war for American independence. In those waters, first made historic in naval annals by the presence of the French ships sent to aid the struggling colonists in the crucial days of 1781, the American Navy was making ready to repay that invaluable assistance—to send its vessels to the beleaguered French coast, both to safeguard the vast army America would send to France and to drive back the onrushing enemies that threatened its life. In 1917 the York and the Chesapeake were again the rendezvous of fighting men of the same mettle as those of 1781, who were to strengthen by united service and common sacrifice in the World War the bonds of friendship between France and America that had been forged more than a century before. And those who fought each other then were comrades now. "Old wars forgot," Great Britain and France for years had held the lines, and America was taking its place beside them, throwing all its power and strength with them against the common foe. From Yorktown went the first United States forces, ordered overseas just after war began. Sent to England's aid, to serve with the British forces, their arrival was hailed as the beginning of a new era in the relations of the nations—the "Return of the Mayflower." And later went huge dreadnaughts to the North Sea, joining the Grand Fleet in the mightiest aggregation of naval power the world has ever seen. That is a wonderful harbor, there in the York River, with water deep enough for the largest battleship, and broad enough to accommodate a whole fleet. With defenses at the entrance to Chesapeake Bay, and nets, mines and patrol across York River, no submarine could ever hope to penetrate to this safe haven. "When the active fleet arrived in Hampton Roads about the 1st of April, after its training period in Cuban waters, it was in the best state of preparedness that it had ever been," said Admiral Mayo, "and there was a feeling of confidence in the personnel of being able to cope with any emergency." "At the end of March, 1917, when we were on the verge of entry into the war," said Rear Admiral Charles P. Plunkett, Director of Gunnery Exercises, "the gunnery was in the highest state of efficiency that it has been in the history of the American Navy." When the break with Germany came the fleet was in Cuban waters, engaged in target practice, engineering exercises, and battle maneuvers. This intensive training had been going on under regular schedule for more than two years. Every man in the fleet, from the Commander-in-Chief to the youngest recruit, felt in his bones that the maneuvers that spring were a real preparation for war. Eager to get a chance at the Germans, confident that they could defeat any force of similar strength and tonnage afloat; they were just waiting for the word "Go!" Is there such a thing as mental telepathy! Would you call it that or a mere coincidence, if the same thought at almost the same moment came to the Admiral of the Fleet at Guantanamo and to the Chief of Naval Operations in Washington? That is exactly what occurred on February 4, 1917. And the two dispatches stating the same conclusions in regard to moving the fleet were en route at the same time. At 3:59 o'clock that afternoon Admiral Mayo sent this message from his flagship at Guantanamo: Unless instructions are received to the contrary, propose to shift fleet base to Gulf of Guacanayabo after spotting practice February 5th; then proceed with schedule of all gunnery exercises. Before that message reached Washington, in fact in less than ten minutes after it was handed to the operator in Cuba, the following to Admiral Mayo from Admiral William S. Benson, Chief of Operations, was being sent from the Department: Position of fleet well known to everybody. If considered advisable on account of submarines, shift base to Gulf of Guacanayabo or elsewhere at discretion. Inform Department confidentially. The first duty was protection of the Fleet from submarine attack. Four months before the U-53 had called at Newport, and sallying forth, had sunk British vessels just off our coast. On January 16th a Japanese steamer, the Hudson Maru, captured by Germans, a prize crew placed on board, had put into Pernambuco with 287 survivors from half a dozen vessels sunk by a German raider. That raider, as was learned later, was the famous Moewe, which captured twenty-six vessels, sinking all except the Hudson Maru and the Yarrowdale, which carried several hundred prisoners to Germany, among them fifty-nine American sailors. The Germans could easily send their U-boats across the Atlantic. There was a possibility that they might strike quickly without warning. Naval strategists do not yet understand why Germany did not make an immediate dash against our coasts in the spring of 1917, instead of waiting until 1918. Allied and American officers alike expected the submarines to extend their operations to this side of the Atlantic when this country entered the war. It was necessary to provide for the fleet a rendezvous with which the Germans were not familiar, one easily defended, where battleships could carry on their work free from attack until the time came to bring them into action. But why Guacanayabo? [3] [4] [5] Though you would hardly notice it on the average map, the Gulf of Guacanayabo is a sizeable body of water, extending in a sort of semicircle some seventy miles, the broadest part about fifteen miles wide. On the southern coast of Cuba, it extends from Santa Cruz del Sur to below Manzanillo, nearly to Cape Cruz. With plenty of deep water inside, once the main channel is closed, only a navigator familiar with the turnings and depths can navigate safely through the other channels, for the Gulf is surrounded by a chain of islands, with many shoals. Difficult for submarines to negotiate submerged, it is easily defended against them. When Admiral Mayo had placed his ships in this landlocked harbor, shut the door and turned the key, they were as safe as my lady's jewels in a safety deposit vault. At Guacanayabo the fleet continued its work, going out to sea for battle practice and long-range gunnery in the daytime, returning at night to conduct night firing with the secondary batteries, torpedo attack, and other exercises. There was even room in the Gulf to carry on torpedo firing and defense at 10,000 yards distance. There the fleet remained until it was ordered north, on March 20th. "I feel sure that if this force had engaged an enemy on its cruise north in the spring of 1917, the victory would have been ours," said Admiral Henry B. Wilson, commander of the flagship, and Admiral Joseph Strauss, in command of the Nevada, declared: "In April, 1917, we could have gone out in mid-ocean and engaged the German fleet and come out successfully. Our ships were superior; our guns were superior; I believe our morale was superior." Upon the arrival of the fleet, Yorktown became the center of battle training. During the entire war this base was one of the busiest places in America. Every ship was carrying on intensive training day and night—training gunners, engineers, firemen, deck officers and crews, armed guards for merchant vessels, men of every rank and rating to man transports, destroyers, patrol craft, and all the many vessels put into European and trans-Atlantic service. In addition to new men in their own crews, the special training squadron of older battleships trained more than 45,000 officers and men for service in other vessels. When the bugle sounded, they all wanted to get into action. They had looked for the declaration of war as the signal to weigh anchor and set sail for Europe. As the destroyers and patrol craft went overseas and the cruisers plunged across the Atlantic escorting troop-ships and convoys, those who were left behind envied those who had received such assignments. But teaching recruits, tame and tiresome as it was, was their job, most necessary and useful. Until they had their heart's desire and were ordered abroad, they stuck to it with the vim and determination with which they afterwards entered upon the U-boat chase. That was the spirit that won. Three thousand miles across the seas the men on the British Grand Fleet were likewise eating their hearts out because the enemy dreadnaughts, after the one dash at Jutland, were hugging the home ports, denying to Allied naval forces the chance for which all other days had been but preparation. All naval teaching for generations had instilled into American and British youth the doctrine that, whereas battles on land might continue for months, domination of the sea would be lost or won in a few moments when the giant dreadnaughts engaged in a titanic duel. German naval strategy, after the drawn battle at Jutland, defeated all naval experience and expectation. Hiding behind their strong defenses, never venturing forth in force, they imposed the strain and the unexciting watchful waiting which more than anything else irks men who long to put their mettle to the test by a decisive encounter. The acme of happiness to the fleets at Yorktown and at Scapa Flow to which all looked, both before and after the American division joined the British Grand Fleet, was a battle royal where skill and courage and modern floating forts would meet the supreme test. It was not to be. The disappointment of both navies was scarcely lessened by the knowledge that they had gained a complete victory through successful methods which a different character of warfare brought into existence. They wished the glorious privilege of sinking the ships in an engagement rather than permitting the Germans later to scuttle them. Admiral Beatty voiced the regret of both navies in his farewell address to his American shipmates, when he said: "I know quite well that you, as well as all of our British comrades, were bitterly disappointed at not being able to give effect to that efficiency you have so well maintained." The sense of disappointment at the drab ending was heightened by the belief entertained that there had been times when the bold and daring offensive would have compelled a great naval battle. In Germany, fed up for years on the claim of naval superiority and stuffed with fake stories of a great German victory at Jutland, there had been demand that their navy make proof of its worth by giving battle instead of rusting in home ports. Men of the navies that had produced Nelsons, and Farraguts and John Paul Joneses and Deweys grow restive under inaction. They knew that the existence and readiness of the two great fleets and of the French and Italian fleets held the German High Seas Fleet in behind shore protection, rendering impotent the force Von Tirpitz had assured Germany would sink enemy ships. But the dreary program of blockade carried on during four long years was not to their liking. It succeeded, but it was not the finish for which they had trained. They longed to the very end for the real fight, the daring drive, the bringing of their big guns into play, the final combat which could end only with annihilation of the enemy's fleet. Whatever may be said of the wisdom of the ancient prudent doctrine of "a fleet in being," I shall always believe that, if, at the opportune time, such fighting sailors as Beatty and Carpenter, Mayo and Rodman and Wilson, could have joined in a combined assault, they would have found a way or made one, to sink the German fleet, in spite of Heligoland and all the frowning German guns. [6] [7] [8] CHAPTER II "TO BE STRONG UPON THE SEAS" PRESIDENT IN 1914 LAID DOWN POLICY WHICH GUIDED THE NAVY IN YEARS OF PREPARATION—ON VERGE OF WAR IN 1916—FLEET PREPARED TO MOBILIZE —"DEUTSCHLAND" AND U-53 WARNED US TO EXPECT SUBMARINES—CONGRESS AUTHORIZED BUILDING OF 157 WARSHIPS—MERCHANT SHIPS LISTED, MUNITIONS ACCUMULATED, COUNTRY'S INDUSTRIES SURVEYED. "We shall take leave to be strong upon the seas," declared President Wilson in his annual message to Congress in December, 1914, and this was the guiding policy in the years of preparation that preceded the war. And the two years that followed were the busiest the Navy has ever known in time of peace. The United States was on the very verge of war a year before it was declared. All preparations were made to mobilize the Fleet when President Wilson, after the sinking of the Sussex, sent his ultimatum to Germany declaring: Unless the Imperial Government should now immediately declare and effect an abandonment of its present methods of submarine warfare against passenger and freight-carrying vessels, the Government of the United States can have no choice but to sever diplomatic relations with the German Empire altogether. That note was despatched on April 18, 1916. Germany did not reply promptly and in a few days the following order was issued: NAVY DEPARTMENT Washington, April 27, 1916. Confidential. From: Chief of Naval Operations. Subject: Mobilization Plan. The following order had this day been approved by the Secretary of the Navy: "1. In case of mobilization for war in the Atlantic the organization of the naval forces will be as indicated in the mobilization sheets published from time to time by the Department. "2. Plans will be developed by all officers concerned for execution upon the receipt of the order to mobilize. "3. The order to mobilize when received will be construed as an order to take all necessary action for the rapid assembly of ships at the rendezvous in all respects ready for war service. "4. The rendezvous is designated as Chesapeake Bay." Copies of mobilization sheets are forwarded herewith. All our battleships except three, and 40 of our 47 destroyers were reported immediately available. Mobilization is the next step to actual hostilities and is only justifiable when conditions are extremely threatening. That was the case in the spring of 1916. In fact, what threatened then was what actually occurred a year later. The German Government in its note of May 4th met all Wilson's demands, declaring it would do its utmost to confine the operations for the rest of the war to the fighting forces of the belligerent. "Guided by this idea," it notified the United States Government that the German naval forces had received the following orders: In accordance with the general principles of visit and search and destruction of merchant vessels recognized by international law, such vessels, both within and without the area declared as naval war zone, shall not be sunk without warning and without saving human lives, unless such ships attempt to escape or offer resistance. It was not until Feb. 1, 1917, that Germany repudiated this pledge and resumed ruthless U-boat warfare. But it did give us warning that it could send its undersea craft to American waters whenever it chose. [9] [10] If there ever had been any fancied security from their submarines, it was removed that Sunday, July 9, 1916, when the Deutschland bobbed up in Chesapeake Bay, and a few hours later reached her dock in Baltimore. Coming from Bremen via Heligoland, it had made its way through the North Sea and around Scotland, crossed the ocean and entered Hampton Roads under the very noses of the British cruisers just outside. Two hundred and thirteen feet long, with a displacement, submerged, of 2,200 tons, it had a surface speed of 12 to 14 knots an hour, and could run under water at 7-1/2 knots. Though unarmed, and called a "mercantile submarine," by the placing of guns and torpedo tubes aboard, she could be quickly converted into a man-of-war. The Deutschland came again to America in November, going to New London, Conn., reaching Germany, on her return, December 10. This was her last trip as a merchantman, for she was soon afterwards converted into a warship, and was one of the submarines sent to sink shipping in American waters in 1918. Even more startling was the visit of the U-53. This German submarine, almost as large as the Deutschland, suddenly appeared off Point Judith and calmly steamed into Newport, R. I., the afternoon of October 7th. Flying the German man-of-war ensign, she carried two guns conspicuously placed. The cruiser Birmingham, Rear Admiral Albert Gleaves commanding, was near by, and the U-53 asked to be assigned a berth. Kapitän Leutnant Hans Rose, her commander, in full uniform, called on the commandant of the Naval Station, stating that his object in entering the port was to "pay his respects," and that he intended to sail at 6 o'clock. He invited our officers to visit his ship, saying he would be glad to "show them around." The crew seemed anxious to impress the Americans with the boat and its mechanism. While in port, the U-53 was careful not to violate neutrality regulations, but the day after leaving Newport she began a slaughter of vessels. On October 8th, she sank the British steamships Stephano, Strathdine and West Point, the Dutch steamer Blommersdijk, and the Norwegian Chr. Knudsen. The first two were attacked within sight of Nantucket Lightship, just outside the three-mile limit. The others sunk were farther away, but all were near our coast. The first news we had of this raid was that the American steamer Kansan had been stopped early in the morning by a German submarine, which, after examining her papers, had allowed her to proceed. A short time later a radio message was received stating that the British steamer West Point was being gunned. After that, distress signals came thick and fast. Rear Admiral Gleaves immediately ordered our destroyers to the relief of the vessels attacked, and they rescued crews and passengers, bringing them safely to port. Within seven or eight months those destroyers were across the Atlantic, fighting the undersea raiders in European waters. And they had their revenge in September, 1918, when an American destroyer and sub-chasers bombed the U- 53 with such effect that according to reports, she abandoned the fight, glad to be able to get to her home base. Thus Germany in 1916 gave us a taste of submarine warfare, showing what it could do and did do in American waters in 1918, and what sound strategy caused naval experts to expect it to undertake in the spring of 1917. The U-53 had been careful not to attack any American vessels, and had conducted its operations outside our territorial waters. But this piece of German bravado aroused the indignation of the entire country. It was a warning—and probably so intended—that the Germans could at any time send their U-boats across the seas to sink our vessels off our own shores. Even then the country at large seemed to regard our entrance into war as improbable, and to the average man it did seem only a remote possibility; but our attaché in Berlin reported that Germany was building U-boats by scores, the parts being made at plants in various parts of the country, and assembled at coast shipyards. The Germans continued to talk peace, but our Navy continued to build ships, enlist men, and accumulate reserves of guns, ammunition, and war materials. Congress on August 29, 1916, authorized the construction of 157 war vessels—ten battleships of the largest type and six huge battle cruisers, larger and swifter than any then in existence; ten scout cruisers, fifty destroyers, nine fleet submarines, fifty-eight coast submarines and one of the Neff type; three fuel ships, two destroyer tenders, two gunboats and two ammunition ships, a repair ship, a transport, a hospital ship and a submarine tender. Sixty-six vessels were appropriated for, to be begun in the current year. That bill carried total appropriations of $312,678,000, the largest amount ever granted for naval purposes in time of peace, and larger than previous appropriations when this country was actually engaged in war. Usually, after vessels are authorized, months are required to prepare the plans and specifications. That was not the case this time. The Bureau of Construction and Repair, under the direction of Rear Admiral David W. Taylor, regarded in this country and abroad as one of the world's ablest naval constructors, had begun work on the plans long before. They were ready when the bill passed Congress. Bids were advertised for the next day, and as soon as the law allowed, contracts were let. Before the end of 1916, we had entered upon the biggest shipbuilding program ever undertaken by any navy at one time. Providing for an enlisted strength of 74,700 regulars, Congress also authorized the President to increase the Navy to 87,000 in case of emergency. This, with the 6,000 apprentice seamen, the Hospital Corps, and allowance for the sick, prisoners and men on probation, would give us an emergency strength of some 95,000—including both officers and men, a force of over 100,000. Five thousand additional enlisted men and 255 more officers were authorized for the Marine Corps, which could be raised in emergency to 17,500. The increases alone were larger than the entire number of men employed by the Navy in the Spanish War. The Naval Reserve, instituted in 1915, was made a Naval Reserve Force unlimited in numbers. [11] [12] [13]