There were many other torpedo attacks in all parts of the battle that
misty afternoon, including a quaint episode of an enemy light cruiser
who "looked as if she were trying" to torpedo one of our
battle-cruisers while the latter was particularly engaged. A destroyer
of ours, returning from a special job which required delicacy, was
picking her way back at 30 knots through batches of enemy
battle-cruisers and light cruisers with the idea of attaching herself
to the nearest destroyer-flotilla and making herself useful. It
occurred to her that as she "was in a most advantageous position for
repelling enemy's destroyers endeavouring to attack, she could not do
better than to remain on the 'engaged bow' of our battle-cruiser." So
she remained and considered things.
There was an enemy battle-cruiser squadron in the offing; with several
enemy light cruisers ahead of that squadron, and the weather was
thickish and deceptive. She sighted the enemy light cruiser, "class
uncertain," only a few thousand yards away, and "decided to attack her
in order to frustrate her firing torpedoes at our Battle Fleet." (This
in case the authorities should think that light cruiser wished to buy
rubber.) So she fell upon the light cruiser with every gun she had, at
between two and four thousand yards, and secured a number of hits,
just the same as at target practice. While thus occupied she sighted
out of the mist a squadron of enemy battle-cruisers that had worried
her earlier in the afternoon. Leaving the light cruiser, she closed to
what she considered a reasonable distance of the newcomers, and let
them have, as she thought, both her torpedoes. She possessed an active
Acting Sub-Lieutenant, who, though officers of that rank think
otherwise, is not very far removed from an ordinary midshipman of the
type one sees in tow of relatives at the Army and Navy Stores. He sat
astride one of the tubes to make quite sure things were in order, and
fired when the sights came on.
_But_, at that very moment, a big shell hit the destroyer on the side
and there was a tremendous escape of steam. Believing--since she had
seen one torpedo leave the tube before the smash came--believing that
both her tubes had been fired, the destroyer turned away "at greatly
reduced speed" (the shell reduced it), and passed, quite reasonably
close, the light cruiser whom she had been hammering so faithfully
till the larger game appeared. Meantime, the Sub-Lieutenant was
exploring what damage had been done by the big shell. He discovered
that only _one_ of the two torpedoes had left the tubes, and
"observing enemy light cruiser beam on and apparently temporarily
stopped," he fired the providential remainder at her, and it hit her
below the conning-tower and well and truly exploded, as was witnessed
by the Sub-Lieutenant himself, the Commander, a leading signalman, and
several other ratings. Luck continued to hold! The Acting
Sub-Lieutenant further reported that "we still had three torpedoes
left and at the same time drew my attention to enemy's line of
battleships." They rather looked as if they were coming down with
intent to assault. So the Sub-Lieutenant fired the rest of the
torpedoes, which at least started off correctly from the shell-shaken
tubes, and must have crossed the enemy's line. When torpedoes turn up
among a squadron, they upset the steering and distract the attention
of all concerned. Then the destroyer judged it time to take stock of
her injuries. Among other minor defects she could neither steam,
steer, nor signal.