On 10th November the Italian liner _Ancona_, bound from Naples to New York, was fired at and torpedoed in the Mediterranean Sea by two large submarines, probably German, but carrying the Austrian flag. Some 500 persons were on board, and only some 260 were saved. Amongst those who perished were about 20 American citizens. At once President Wilson sent a sharp Note, demanding that Austria should disavow the crime, punish the captains of the submarines, and promise to safeguard American passengers in the future. To this Note Austria replied in a very defiant fashion, and by so doing again strained the patience of the American people almost to the breaking point. At the close it looked as though America was about to break off all relations with Austria.
In December the German Government was obliged to recall Captain von Papen and another member of the Embassy. These two men had set the American Government at defiance, and had encouraged plots throughout the length and breadth of the country. Some of their agents were brought to trial, and were punished, and President Wilson announced that the men who were plotting to destroy property and to undermine the Government must be "crushed out." Thus, at the close of the year America seemed to be ready to put an end to the German mischief-makers who had done so much to disturb the peace of the country, and to foster lawlessness and strife.
[Illustration: A German Submarine half submerged.]
"_We'll duck and we'll dive like little tin turtles,_ _We'll duck and we'll dive beneath the North Seas,_ _Until we strike something that doesn't expect us:_ _From here to Cuxhaven it's go as you please._"
I have told you in these pages of many daring deeds and narrow escapes on the battlefield; but for exploits which really thrill us and make us hold our breath, we must go to the men who fight in the air or under the sea. Jules Verne never imagined anything half so marvellous as their doings. When the war is over, we shall hear stories of aviators and of the crews of submarines which will make the wildest inventions of writers of adventure seem tame and colourless.
"The business of the submarines," says Mr. Kipling, "is to run monstrous risks from the earth, air, and water, in what, to be of any use, must be the coldest of blood." Submarine officers, he continues, "play hourly for each other's lives, with Death, the umpire, always at their elbow on tiptoe, to give them 'out.'" And consider the bowling and fielding in this nightmare game, where there is rarely a second innings. A bomb from a Zeppelin or an aeroplane, a shot from a 4-inch gun, a bump against a mine, a collision with a reef or the bows of a destroyer, trawler, or tramp, an accident to the complicated gear--and all is over. Nevertheless, the officers and crews of submarines soon lose the sense of imminent peril, and go about their business quite unconcerned.