At 9 a.m. a tremendous explosion shook the boat from stem to stern,
smashing several lights, and giving her a big inclination up by the
bow.
As I was only at twenty metres I feared the boat would break surface,
and our enemy was evidently very nearly right over us. I at once
ordered hard to dive, and went down to the great depth of ninety-five
metres.
A series of shattering explosions somewhere above us showed that we
were marked down, and we were only saved from destruction by our great
depth, the English charges being set apparently to about thirty metres.
At noon the situation was critical in the extreme. My battery density
was down to 1,150, the few lamps that I had burning were glowing with a
faint, dull red appearance, which eloquently told of the falling
voltage and the dying struggles of the battery.
The motors with all fields out were just going round. The faces of the
crew, pallid with exhaustion, seemed of an ivory whiteness in the dusky
gloom of the boat, which never resembled a gigantic and fantastically
ornamental coffin so closely as she did at that time.
The air was fetid. I struck a match; it went out in my fingers. The
slightest effort was an agony. I bent down to take off my sea-boots,
and cold sweat dropped off my forehead, and my pulse rose with a kind
of jerk to a rapid beating, like a hammer.