"Remember that we cannot have any racket except what the guns make." A few more guns were fired, and the racket died down.
"The show's over!" shouted Major Wells.

"Evidently we got out of that meeting with less damage than the enemy sustained.

We lost no craft, while Fritz has one pirate boat less.

Our destroyers of the escort are now moving along straight courses once more." On the saloon deck many of the officers turned and stepped inside.
That set the fashion, for hundreds of enlisted men left their own decks and went below, either to sleep, read or write letters.
Then, a minute later, Major Wells once more appeared at the rail forward, calling down: "For the benefit of those who like exact statistics I will say that the commanding officer has just received a signaled message to the effect that the navies of two countries got an enemy submarine apiece.

You may omit the cheers!" Those who remained on deck saw, a couple of hours later, several specks off on the water which, they were told, were British and American patrol boats out to give aid to victims of submarine sinkings.
Then night came on, dark, hazy, a bit chilling, so that officers and men alike were glad enough to seek their berths and get in under olive drab blankets.
"The haze and mist will hinder submarines anyway, so the weather is in our favor," was the word passed around.
Save for the guard, and those on other active duty, the passengers on the troopship slept soundly.