there was every variety of fight, from the ordered
attacks of squadrons under control, to single ship
affairs, every turn of which depended on the second’s
decision of the men concerned; endurance to the hopeless
end; bluff and cunning; reckless advance and red-hot
flight; clear vision and as much of blank bewilderment
as the Senior Service permits its children to indulge
in. That is not much. When a destroyer who
has been dodging enemy torpedoes and gun-fire in the
dark realises about midnight that she is “following
a strange British flotilla, having lost sight of my
own,” she “decides to remain with them,”
and shares their fortunes and whatever language is
going.
If lost hounds could speak when they cast up next
day, after an unchecked night among the wild life
of the dark, they would talk much as our destroyers
do.
The doorkeepers of Zion,
They do not always
stand
In helmet and whole armour,
With halberds
in their hand;
But, being sure of Zion,
And all her mysteries,
They rest awhile in Zion,
Sit down and smile in Zion;
Ay, even jest in Zion,
In Zion, at their
ease.
The gatekeepers of Baal,
They dare not
sit or lean,
But fume and fret and posture
And foam and curse
between;
For being bound to Baal,
Whose sacrifice
is vain,
Their rest is scant with Baal,
They glare and pant for Baal,
They mouth and rant for Baal,
For Baal in their
pain.
But we will go to Zion,
By choice and
not through dread,
With these our present comrades
And those our
present dead;
And, being free of Zion
In both her fellowships,
Sit down and sup in Zion—
Stand up and drink in Zion
Whatever cup in Zion
Is offered to
our lips!
THE MEANING OF “JOSS”
As one digs deeper into the records, one sees the
various temperaments of men revealing themselves through
all the formal wording. One commander may be
an expert in torpedo-work, whose first care is how
and where his shots went, and whether, under all circumstances
of pace, light, and angle, the best had been achieved.
Destroyers do not carry unlimited stocks of torpedoes.
It rests with commanders whether they shall spend
with a free hand at first or save for night-work ahead—risk
a possible while he is yet afloat, or hang on coldly
for a certainty. So in the old whaling days did
the harponeer bring up or back off his boat till some
shift of the great fish’s bulk gave him sure
opening at the deep-seated life.
