Sea Warfare eBook

And then comes the question of private judgment.  “I thought so-and-so would happen.  Therefore, I did thus and thus.”  Things may or may not turn out as anticipated, but that is merely another of the million chances of the sea.  Take a case in point.  A flotilla of our destroyers sighted six (there had been eight the previous afternoon) German battleships of Kingly and Imperial caste very early in the morning of the 1st June, and duly attacked.  At first our people ran parallel to the enemy, then, as far as one can make out, headed them and swept round sharp to the left, firing torpedoes from their port or left-hand tubes.  Between them they hit a battleship, which went up in flame and debris.  But one of the flotilla had not turned with the rest.  She had anticipated that the attack would be made on another quarter, and, for certain technical reasons, she was not ready.  When she was, she turned, and single-handed—­the rest of the flotilla having finished and gone on—­carried out two attacks on the five remaining battleships.  She got one of them amidships, causing a terrific explosion and flame above the masthead, which signifies that the magazine has been touched off.  She counted the battleships when the smoke had cleared, and there were but four of them.  She herself was not hit, though shots fell close.  She went her way, and, seeing nothing of her sisters, picked up another flotilla and stayed with it till the end.  Do I make clear the maze of blind hazard and wary judgment in which our men of the sea must move?

SAVED BY A SMOKE SCREEN

Some of the original flotilla were chased and headed about by cruisers after their attack on the six battleships, and a single shell from battleship or cruiser reduced one of them to such a condition that she was brought home by her sub-lieutenant and a midshipman.  Her captain, first lieutenant, gunner, torpedo coxswain, and both signalmen were either killed or wounded; the bridge, with charts, instruments, and signalling gear went; all torpedoes were expended; a gun was out of action, and the usual cordite fires developed.  Luckily, the engines were workable.  She escaped under cover of a smoke-screen, which is an unbearably filthy outpouring of the densest smoke, made by increasing the proportion of oil to air in the furnace-feed.  It rolls forth from the funnels looking solid enough to sit upon, spreads in a searchlight-proof pat of impenetrable beastliness, and in still weather hangs for hours.  But it saved that ship.

It is curious to note the subdued tone of a boy’s report when by some accident of slaughter he is raised to command.  There are certain formalities which every ship must comply with on entering certain ports.  No fully-striped commander would trouble to detail them any more than he would the aspect of his Club porter.  The young ’un puts it all down, as who should say:  “I rang the bell, wiped my feet on the mat, and asked if they were at home.”  He is most careful of the port proprieties, and since he will be sub. again to-morrow, and all his equals will tell him exactly how he ought to have handled her, he almost apologises for the steps he took—­deeds which ashore might be called cool or daring.