six o’clock
`` I tell you that U-boat that sank the _ San Pietro _ is laying for us . In about an hour you 'll see a periscope bob up out there . Then we 'll send out an S.O.S. , and the next thing you know we 'll sink with all on board . '' We had as yet escaped this doom when toward six o'clock we approached Gibraltar , running beneath a crimson sunset and between misty purple shores . On one hand lay Africa , on the other the Moorish country , both shrouded in a soft haze and edged with snowy foam . Down below the soldiers of Italy were singing . A merchantman of belligerent nationality , our ship proudly flew its flag again .