Hot afternoons have been at old Fort Slocum near New Rochelle, N. Y., and another occurred last week. Private James Stanley and others stripped off their regimentals and jumped into Long Island Sound from the Fort coal dock. Half way over to Glen Island, Stanley's stomach was griped. He floundered. Ashore some sharp-eyes saw him, telephoned the Quartermaster for a launch, seized a towel, waved at a hovering seaplane.
One of Stanley's comrades reached him in the water, but soon both were sinking. Toward them came then a droning roar, a splash, a...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
