That much patience had to be exercised by the seamen of the North Sea fleet is evidenced by a letter in which the writer said to his family, “If you want to get away from the excitement of war, you should be here with me.”  This situation, of course, might be changed at a moment’s notice.  The London Times said in September:  “It is not to be wondered at if our seamen today envy a little the old-time sailors who did not have to compete with such things as mines, destroyers and submarines.  In the accounts of the old blockades we read how by means of music and dancing, and even theatrical entertainments, the monotonous nature of the work was counteracted, and the officers of the ships, including Nelson and other great commanders, welcomed these diversions for the prevention of the evils which might be bred by enforced idleness.  It is a true saying that everything that stagnates corrupts.  There is no possible chance of the crews of our modern vessels stagnating under the new conditions of war.  Whether engaged in blockading in the big ships, scouting in the cruisers, or patrolling the coasts in the destroyers, the life is described as tremendously interesting and exciting.  There has been no sense of monotony whatever.  Indeed, the conditions are such that, were it not obligatory for portions of every crew to take rest, all of them would be continually on the alert.  We may be certain that arrangements have been made for ensuring that the crews obtain periods of relaxation from the constant strain; but the only real change comes in the big ships when they have of necessity to refill their bunkers.”

LOSS OF THE CRUISER AMPHION

The cruiser Amphion was the first British war vessel lost in the war.  The survivors on landing at the North Sea port of Harwich, England, on August 10, stated that hardly had they left Harwich than they were ordered to clear the decks for action.  They sighted the German mine-laying vessel Koenigin Luise, and, as it refused to stop even when a shot was fired across its bows, they gave chase.

The German ship fired and then the destroyers, accompanying the Amphion, surrounded and sank it after a brief combined bombardment.

The captain, it is said, was beside himself with fury.  He had a revolver in his hand and threatened his men as they prepared to surrender to the rescuing ships.  He flatly refused to give himself up and was taken by force.

When the smoke of a big ship was seen on the horizon the Amphion gave chase, firing a warning shot as it drew near the vessel, which at once made known its identity as the Harwich boat St. Petersburg, carrying Prince Lichnowsky, the German ambassador, to the Hook of Holland.  While returning to port came the tragedy of the Amphion.  As it struck a sunken mine it gave two plunging jerks.  Then came an explosion which ripped up its forepart, shot up its funnels like arrows from a bow, and lifted its heavy guns into the air.  The falling material struck several of the boats of the flotilla and injured some of the men on board them.