OCR Text |
Show With the stopping over of many soldiers sol-diers and sailors at the Union Station this morning, was one, whose name, Jesse W. Covington, probably means nothing to the majority of persons in this country, and In the world, Jesso Covington Is a ship's cook. Third class, United States navy, with not much chance for any heroic acts or opportunities oppor-tunities to make a record for himself. Ho serves his country in his own way, usually. But Jessie Covington chose to serve his country in a still more wonderful way. And this is his story: Upon persuasion by his comrades, j from the depths of his pockets somewhere, some-where, he brought forth on a blue ribbon, rib-bon, a handsome gold medal, decorated with stars and figures on its face. But the other side bore the story ono which shows the man, Jesse Covington, Coving-ton, as he really Is in service, and not as the modest sailor he appears to be when viewed in passing. For this medal, med-al, according to the engraving, was j given for "Extraordinary heroism in rescuing survivors of the Florence H. (amidst exploding powder boxes, April 17, 1917." And now with one accord, facts o that terrible disaster are brought bacl to all. How the Florence H, an am munition boat not many miles off th coast of France, having been set afin by German spies, suddenly exploded with its entire crew on board. Members of the crow, boxes of burn ing powder, and all were thrown inU tho flaming water. Forty-seven mci were blown to atoms. An American boat was near th scene of tho disaster, and, accordinj to all maritime orders, was commanded command-ed to flee from tho burning vessel But the members of the boat appealec to the captain to annul such orders anc he did. Jesse Covington, ship's cook and several of his companions, fearlessly fear-lessly sprang over the side of the boai Into the torrent of flame, explodln? shells, burning oils and all, and rescued res-cued nearly fifty men. And that if the story of his medal, which he carelessly care-lessly replaced in his pocket somewhere, some-where, after telling his story. No one knows, no one can tell ol the hearts of courage of these mon, whom one looks at only casually as they pass. |