"BACK FROM THE JAWS"
I had gone to the _Nairobi_, not because the rather routine stunt her
flotilla was on promised any excitement, but rather because of the
notable part she had played in the Jutland action and the fact that I
had been assured that there was still in her an officer who was said to
have figured prominently in the splendid account she had given of
herself on that occasion. As luck would have it, however, this officer
had been appointed to another destroyer only a day or two previously, so
that no veteran of the great action remained in the ward room. A canvass
of the ship's company revealed that one of the stoker petty officers was
a Jutland survivor, but before I could run him to cover some kind of a
light cruiser affair had occurred down Heligoland Bight way which called
for destroyer work in that direction, and the next two days, with the
flotilla creasing up the brine at high speed and everyone at Action
Stations most of the time, were not favourable for the "intimate
reminiscence" I was bent on drawing out.
It was not until the flotilla, salt-frosted and low in fuel, was
lounging along in the leisurely dalliance of half-speed on the way back
to base that I cornered Stoker Petty Officer Prince in the angle between
the foremost torpedo tubes and the starboard rail, and engaged him in
serious discussion of the shamefulness of supplying worn-out films to
the Depôt Ship kinema. The second dog watch was only half gone, but in
the hour that elapsed before it was over there was no mention of
Jutland, or anything else connected with the war for that matter, though
the talk ran the full gamut from cabbages to kings. I mean this quite
literally, for he began by telling me of what his mother had raised in
her allotment at Ipswich, and was describing how, when he was on a
cruise in the _Clio_ ten years before the war, he had once shaken hands
with the King of Fiji, as eight bells went to call him on watch. It was
a happy inspiration which prompted me to volunteer to go down and stand
a part of his watch with him in the stokehold, for once on his own
"dung-hill," his restraint fell away from him and he spoke easily and
naturally of the things which had befallen him there and on the deck
above.
There is little in the small, neat compartment from which the oil fires
of a modern destroyer are fed and controlled to suggest the picture
which the name "stokehold" conjures up in the popular mind. There is no
coal, no grime, no sweating shovellers, no clanging doors. Under
ordinary conditions two leisurely moving men do all there is need of
doing, and with time to spare, and there are occasions at sea, in the
winter months, when the stokehold is a more comfortable refuge than the
chill fireless ward room. It was my remarking upon the grateful warmth
of the stokehold after the cold wet wind that was sweeping the deck,
which finally turned the current of Prince's reminiscence in the
direction I had been vainly endeavouring to deflect it for the last
hour.
"It's all comfy enough, sir, when she's loafing along at fifteen or
twenty knots," he said, slipping aside a "flap" and peering in at his
fires with the critical eye of a housewife surveying her oven of bread,
"but just tumble in some time when, while she already plugging away at
full speed, the engine-room rings up more steam. That's the time she's
just one little bit of hell down here, sir, with the white sizzle of the
fires turning the furnaces to a red that shows even with the lights on,
and the plates underfoot getting so hot that you have to keep dancing to
prevent the soles of your boots from catching fire. Why, long toward
morning of the night after Jutland----"
It didn't take much manoeuvring from that vantage to back him up to
the beginning for a fresh start of the story of what is unquestionably
one of the most remarkable, as it was one of the most successful, phases
of the Jutland destroyer action. The fact that, during the daylight
action between the battle cruisers, he had ample opportunity for
observation (through his being on deck standing by in the event of
emergency and without active duties to perform) makes him undoubtedly
one of the most valuable witnesses of the opening phase of this the
greatest of all naval battles. The story which I am setting down
connectedly, he told me in the comfortable intervals of his leisurely
fire-trimming, and, once he was warmed up to it, with little prompting
or questioning from myself. Much of it was punctuated with frequent
stabs and slashes with one of the short-handled pokers which perform for
the stoker of an oil-burner a service similar to that rendered his
brother of the coal-burner by his mighty "slice" of iron.
"Big as the difference is between being on deck and in the stokehold at
ordinary times," said Prince, turning round with glare-blinded eyes
closed to narrow slits after cracking off the accumulating carbon from
an oil-sprayer with his poker, "it is ten times more so when a fight is
on, and I'll always be jolly thankful that it was my luck not to be
caged up down here during the daylight part of the Jutland show. I had
my turn of it at night, and it was bad enough then, even though I knew
it was blacker'n the pit above; but, in daylight, with everything in
full view outside, I'm not sure I wouldn't have gone off my chuck if I'd
had to go 'squirrel-caging' on here with one eye on the fires and the
other on the Kilroy. But I didn't. It was my luck to be off watch when
the ball opened, so that my 'action station' was just loafing round the
deck and keeping a stock of leak-stopping gear--mushroom-spreaders and
wooden plugs--ready to use as soon as we got holed. Not having anything
to do with navigating the ship, or signalling, or serving the guns or
torpedo tubes--though I did get a bit of a chance with a mouldie as it
turned out--I not only had time to see, but also to let the sights 'sink
in' like. For that reason, when it was all over, I was probably able to
give a more connected yarn of what happened than anyone else in the
ship, not excepting the captain. They'll take a lot of forgetting, some
of the things I saw that day."
Prince went over and settled down at ease on the steel steps of the
ladder. "The worst grudge I had against Jutland--save for the way it
whiffed out the lives of some of my friends in some of the other
destroyers--" he continued with a grin, "was for making me miss my tea
that afternoon. We left base the night before, and about daybreak joined
up with the 'battlers,' which was our way of speaking of the First
Battle Cruiser Squadron, to which the flotilla was attached. It was a
fairly decent day, and we were able to make good weather of it with the
light wind and easy swell. I had stood the forenoon watch, had a bit of
a doss in my hammock in the early part of the afternoon one, and had
just gone down to tea before going on for the 'First Dog.' There had
been some buzz in the morning about the Huns being out; but that was so
old a story that no one paid much attention to it. I was just getting
my nose over the edge of a mug of tea when I heard the bos'un growling
'Hands exercise action stations,' and tumbled out on deck to go through
the motions of getting ready for a fight that would never come off, or
leastways that was how we felt about it. The 'battlers' were speeding up
a bit, but there was not even a smudge of smoke on the horizon to hint
of Huns. After rigging the fire-hoses and getting out my 'plugs,' I
stood by for 'what next,' but nothing happened. At the end of half an
hour the order 'Hands fall out' was passed, and, leaving everything
rigged, down we went to tea again. The mugs we had left were stone cold
by this time, and we were just raising a howl for a fresh lot when,
'Bing!' off goes the alarm bells, and up we rushes again, this time to
find signs of what we had been looking and hoping for. A good many hours
went by before we went below again, and all through the fight--when
things would ease off a bit now and then--I would hear the 'matlos'
grousing about missing their afternoon tea.
"The old _Nairobi_ was nosing along under the port bow of the _Lion_ as
I came up, and so close that we saw her guns--trained out abeam with a
high elevation, right above us. We seemed to be speeding up to take
station farther ahead. There was nothing at all in sight (from the deck,
at least; though probably there was a better look-see from the bridge)
in the direction the _Lion's_ guns were trained, and it was almost as if
a bomb had been dropped from the sky when a shell came plumping down
about half-way between our starboard quarter and her port bow. The fact
is, having heard no sound of gunfire, I was so surprised that I
foolishly asked someone if the _Lion_ hadn't blown out one of her
tompions testing a circuit. The spout of foam should have told me
better, but it goes to show what crazy things run through a man's mind
when he can only see effect without the cause. A few moments later I saw
unmistakable gun-flashes blinking along the skyline to south'ard and
knew that at last we were under the fire of the Huns. The next two or
three shots fell singly, and were plainly merely attempts to get the
range. Following the first 'short,' there were one or two 'over,' and
then a fair hit. This one, falling almost straight, struck the fo'c'sl'
of the _Lion_, penetrated the deck and came out on the starboard side. I
don't think it exploded, and we were just far enough ahead to see past
her bows to where it struck the water with a kind of spattery splash,
not at all like the clean spout thrown by a shell which goes straight
into the sea.
"Then there was a big spurt of flame from the _Lion_, and the screech of
shells reached my ears, even before the heavy crash of her four-gun
salvo. Watch as I would, I could not make out the distant fall of shot,
but the fluttering flashes of the Hun guns to the south'ard told where
the target was. Firing opened up all along the line of our battle
cruisers after that, and the racket from that and the fast falling enemy
shells increased till it was a steady unbroken roar. The Hun shells were
falling so straight that many of the 'overs' missed by only a few yards.
The hits, of which there were quite a number on the leading ships,
looked rather awful at the moment of exploding. There would be a wild
gush of flame that seemed to be eating up everything it touched, and
then, all of a sudden, it was gone, and only a few little fires would be
left flickering on the deck. The shells which struck against the sides
seemed to nip on into the sea almost before they began to explode.
Neither these, nor even those which struck the decks and turrets, seemed
to be doing much damage at this stage, and our own firing never
slackened in the least. I think none of the destroyers were hit up to
now, though there were a number of very near things from some of the
'overs.' Our turn was coming.
"This sort of a give-and-take fight had been going on for some time,
when there was a sudden increase of the enemy's fire. From the way the
fresh fall of shot came ranging up, it was very plain that new ships
were coming into action, while the fact that the splashes were higher
and heavier than those from the first salvoes seemed to make it likely
that some of the Hun battleships had now arrived at the party. As it
turned out, this was just what had happened, and, although we could not
see them from the low decks of the destroyers, the first B.C.S. was soon
under the fire of the whole Hun High Seas Fleet. It was to draw these on
into action with our approaching Battle Fleet that Beatty now turned
away to the north'ard.
"Right here was where the big moment of this part of the fight came. The
Huns must have scented the chance of catching our battle cruisers on the
'windy corner' as they turned, for suddenly their fire slackened on the
ships down the line and concentrated on the point where that line began
to bend. It must have been something like the barrage they make at the
Front, for at times the water thrown up by the bursting shell made a
solid wall which completely cut off my view of the ships beyond it. The
way it seemed to boil up and quiet down looked like there was some sort
of general control over the bunched fire, though that sort of thing
would be pretty hard to handle.
"The _Lion_ caught only a corner of the 'boil,' and left it on her
starboard quarter, but the shell or two that struck her started a fierce
fire burning 'midships, and I did not see the guns of that turret again
in action. The 'P.R.'--the _Princess Royal_--turned in a quiet interval
of the barrage, and seemed not to be hit, but the _Queen Mary_ steamed
right into it, and just seemed to dissolve in a big puff of smoke and
steam. I have no special memory of the noise or shock of the explosion,
but the pillar of smoke shot up as sudden and solid as a
'Jack-in-the-box.' It was black underneath, but always with a crown of
flame at the top, as though the gases were spouting up inside and taking
fire as they met the air. Some of my mates said they saw big pieces of
flying wreckage, such as plates from turrets and decks, but I only
remember smoke and flame. I never saw a bit of the 'Q.M.' again. When
the smoke cloud lifted she was gone completely, with nothing but a gap
in the line to mark the place where she had been. The thing looked so
impossible that the 'T.I.' (that was what we called the torpedo gunner's
mate, because he was also torpedo instructor), who was standing beside
me, kept saying over an over again, 'She's not gone up! She's not gone
up!'
"Perhaps it was no more than a coincidence, but it has always struck me
as being just a bit uncanny the way that barrage on the 'windy corner'
seemed to 'work by threes.' The 'Q.M.' was third in line, and up she
went after the _Lion_ and 'P.R.' had passed unhurt. Then the _Tiger_ and
_New Zealand_ weathered the turn safely, but the poor old
_Indefat_.--Number three again--got hers. She went up under a rain of
shells plumping down on her deck, just as the 'Q.M.' did, and I remember
specially watching the top of a turret go spinning up into the air, till
it almost disappeared, and then came slowly down again, till it was lost
in the rising smoke of the explosion.
"The fire of the Huns began to be divided more equally among the four
surviving battle cruisers now, and the _Nairobi_ was led a lively dance
dodging about among the 'overs.' It was the big fire raging amidships
that turned my eyes to the _Lion_ again. One of the guns of the
'midships turret had a sickly droop to it, but the other three turrets
were blazing away as merry as ever. We were close enough to see men on
the bridge with the naked eye, and it suddenly occurred to me that one
of the quietly moving figures there must be Admiral Beatty, who I knew
hated to be cooped up in a conning tower in action. I could not be sure
which he was, but everyone in sight looked no more concerned than if
they had been steaming out for target practice. I didn't have time to
think of it then, but every time since that I've felt surer and surer
that no man since the world began ever showed more real guts than Beatty
in that part of the Jutland show."
Prince stood up, and put a forty-five degree kink in his poker by
slamming it over the steel rail of the ladder to emphasise his words,
and then stopped talking for a minute or two while he worried it
straight with a hammer.
"It was just about this time," he resumed, squinting approvingly down
the straightened bar, "that the _Nectar_ hoisted the signal, 'Second
Division prepare for torpedo attack,' and a few minutes later I saw the
whole flotilla start streaming out, some ahead of the battle cruiser
line, and some through it, toward the Huns. I also have some memory of
seeing the ----th flotilla, smoking like young factory chimneys, coming
out astern of the line, but I had no chance to see what became of them.
"The range between us and the Huns had been decreasing for some time,
and the battle cruisers at the head of the line loomed up pretty big and
awful as we started to close them. I've never made quite sure yet
whether we were sent out to repel an attack of the Hun destroyers, or
whether they were sent out to repel our attack. Anyhow, there they were,
filtering out through their battle cruisers just as we had filtered
through ours. We met and turned them back something more than half-way
between the lines, but before we got to that point we had to pass, first
through the fire of the Hun heavies, and then through a still hotter
zone where their secondaries were slapping down a barrage that took some
fancy side-stepping to avoid coming to grief in. The _Onward_ was the
first of our division to fall by the wayside. She stopped a 'leven-inch
shell with her engine-room, and got stopped in turn herself. Luckily it
didn't explode, or she would have been blown out of the water then and
there. I saw her fall out of line and disappear in a cloud of steam, and
that was the last peep we had of her for many weeks. When she finally
rejoined the flotilla, we learned that she and another cripple--the
_Fencer_, I think it was--had limped back home together. I don't
remember just where the _Wanderer_ got hers, but I think it must have
been from the Hun's secondaries. Anyhow, the first thing I remember was
that she was gone, and that the _Nectar_ was leading the _Nairobi_--all
that was left of the division--on a course to cross the bows of the
enemy battle cruisers. The Hun destroyers, which had no chance with us
in a gun fight, had now turned tail and were heading back for the
shelter of their battle line. Several of them appeared on fire, but I
didn't see any sinking.
"I am not quite sure what orders were made to the flotilla at this time,
but I rather think that after the Hun attack had been stopped the signal
was hoisted to return to the battle cruisers. I think that is what the
other divisions did do, but for our division--or what remained of
it--things were looking too promising just then to turn our backs on. I
was standing by the foremost tubes at the time, and all of a sudden the
Hun line began to turn away, and I saw that the leading ship was being
heavily hit and that she was afire in two or three places. As she turned
she presented us a fine broadside target at about three thousand yards,
and the order came from the bridge to 'Stand by foremost tubes and fire
when sights come on.'
"The turning of the Hun battle cruiser line exposed us to the fire of a
number of his light cruisers which had been seeking shelter behind it,
and some smashing salvoes from these began to plump down all around us
just as we got ready to launch the torpedoes. Though there was not one
direct hit, we were 'straddled' a dozen times, and the foam spouts
tossed up by the shells exploding on striking the water made a wall of
smoke and spray that almost shut off a view of our target. Shell
fragments were slamming up against the funnels and tinkling on the
decks, and I believe two or three men were hit by them, though not much
hurt. It was this sudden savage shelling that spoiled the only chance we
had at the Hun big 'uns. Just as the sights were coming on to the
leading ship a salvo came down kerplump right abreast of the foremost
tubes, throwing a solid spout of green water all over them. I saw both
mouldies start to slide out, but only one struck the water and began to
run. A moment later I saw that the other, for some reason we never found
out, but probably because it had been knocked sideways by the rush of
water or perhaps a fragment of shell, was hanging by its tail to the lip
of the tube, with its war-head full of gun-cotton trailing in the sea.
It cleared itself when the next sea slapped it against the side, and
started diving and jumping about like a wounded porpoise, most likely
because its propellers had been knocked out. Luckily, our speed carried
us on before it had a chance to 'boomerang' back and blow up the old
_Nairobi_. We could not watch the first torpedo run on account of the
spouts from the falling shells, but though it started right to cross the
enemy's line, there was nothing to make us believe it scored a hit.
"Before there was time to grieve over losing our chance at the battle
cruisers the 'T.I.' called me to give him a hand with the 'midships'
tubes, as one of his men had been knocked out. 'There's a light cruiser
just going to bear for a shot,' he yelled from his seat between the
tubes as I ran round to the breech; 'jump up and tell me what speed
she's making. I can't see her fair from here.' The trouble was that the
awful speed the _Nairobi_ was going at settled her down so low that,
anywhere abaft the bridge, a man couldn't see over the bow wave from the
deck. But, standing on top of the tubes, I was high enough to get a good
look at the Hun, when he wasn't shut off by the spouts from the fall of
shot. He was a small three-funnelled light cruiser, and every gun he had
looked to be training on us. Another cruiser astern of him was also
firing on the _Nairobi_, while two or three others were concentrating on
the _Nectar_. She was getting it even hotter than we were, and all I
could see of her--when one of her zigzags brought her to one side or the
other so the bridge didn't cut her off from my view--was some masts and
funnels sliding along in the middle of a dancing patch of foam
fountains. Both _Nectar_ and _Nairobi_ were replying for all they were
worth with their foremost guns; the after ones were too low down to fire
at such close range with much effect. I saw one of our shells bursting
on the Huns, and why their shooting at us was so bad I have never quite
understood. The fact we were settled so deep aft from our speed was
plainly making a lot of shells ricochet over what would otherwise have
been hits, but, at the same time, the bows being so much higher out of
the water offered all the more target for'ard. It was more 'Joss' than
anything else, I suppose. Besides, the _Nectar_ was just on the edge of
getting hers anyhow.
"I saw all these things out of the corner of my eye like, for my mind
was centred on getting what the 'T.I.' wanted to know about his cruiser.
I knew just what this was to a 't,' for I'd taken many a turn of drill
at the tubes. 'Parallel courses, thousand yards range, speed about
twenty-five,' I shouted, jumping down again; 'and you'll have to slip
her right smart or you'll miss your chance.' Right then the seas
flattened down for a few seconds, and the 'T.I.', giving me an order of
how to train her, set his sights and pulled the cocking lever. A moment
later he fired, and the mouldie slipped out smooth and easy and started
running straight and true for a point the Hun was going to arrive at
about a minute later."
Prince had been poking away at a sprayer as he talked, with the
fluttering light-mote from the fire in the heart of the furnace playing
on one of his squinting eyes in a way that, with the other quenched in
shadow, gave his face a look of Cyclopean fierceness. "I jumped up on
the tubes again to follow our little tin fish on its swim," he resumed.
"There seemed to be a bit of a flap on the cruiser, for its next salvo
fell a long way short of us. One of the shells--a five-or
six-incher--did not explode, but bounced off the water and came
'skip-jacking' along straight for us. It kicked into the water twice
before it reached us, the second time right at the base of the wave that
was rolling up and hiding our sunken stern, and that seemed to give it
just enough of an up-flip to make it clear the _Nairobi's_ shivering
hull. It came so slow that I caught the glint of the copper band round
its base, and so low that the after superstructure blotted it off from
my sight as it passed over the stern. One of the after gun's crew told
me he could have reached up and patted it as it tumbled along over his
head. He said it was going so slow that he hardly felt any wind at all
from it. Perhaps that was because he had his own wind up, though, for it
was making a great buzz, and must have been carrying a big 'tail' of air
in its wake.
"I lost track of our mouldie when I ducked--no, I don't mind admitting
that's just what I did, though it missed me by a mile--and before I
could get my eye on its wake again it had gone home. I think they must
have spotted it coming on the cruiser, for I saw her begin to alter
course away just about the time I figured it was due to arrive. If they
were altering to avoid the mouldie, they turned the wrong way, for it
only brought right abreast the funnels what'd 'a' been a hit somewhere
about the bridge. I've got a picture in my mind of what happened that
I'm dead certain is as true as a photograph, and the spout of water
that went up must have been almost exactly amidships. If the hit had
been anywhere for'rard it would never have broken her back the way it
did, and she might have got away. The funny part of it was that it was
not the 'midships section of her, where the mouldie hit, that seemed to
be lifted by the explosion. That part of her seemed just to go to pieces
and begin to sink all at once, while the bow and stern halves started to
come up and close together like a jack-knife. She must have gone down
inside of a minute or two, but things were happening so fast I don't
think I was looking when she disappeared."
Prince, engrossed in his story, forgot that the end of his poker had a
sheet of flame playing upon it, and the heat which crept back from the
rosy-red tip gave his palm a sharp singe as he clutched the handle
preparatory to executing one of his sweeping gestures. From then on to
the end of his narrative he paused frequently to lick with his tongue
the blistered cuticle, the stoker's sovereign remedy for a slight burn.
"I was just starting to give the 'T.I.' an account of what I had had a
lot better chance to see than he had," he went on thickly, still
touching the blisters gingerly with an extended tongue-tip, "when I
heard him growl, 'Stand by! here's another one. What speed d'you think
she's making?' I was still standing up on top of the tubes, and--to get
a better view--right in front of the 'T.I.', with my waist on just
about the level of his face. As I turned my head to look at the second
Hun he straddled us fair with a full salvo. Most of it went over, but
one proj struck right alongside and just about flooded us out. But there
was something heavier than water that it sent aboard. I felt a sharp
sting across my stomach, as if someone had given me a cut with a whip.
As I put my hand down to it the whole front of my overall dropped away
where a fragment of shell casing had shot across it. A few threads--I
found out later--had been started on my singlet, but my hide was not
even scratched. I heard the 'T.I.' give a yell, and when I looked round
saw his face covered with blood, and a flap of skin from his forehead
hanging down over one eye like a skye terrier's ear. The piece of proj
had caught him a nasty side-swipe, though without hurting anything but
his looks in the least. And it wasn't that he was yelling about, either,
but at me for not giving him the course and speed of the second cruiser.
He had the flap of skin tied up out of his eye--using a strip of my
overall because neither of us could find a handkerchief--by the time I
was back at the handle. I saw the blood dribbling over his sights, but
he seemed to be seeing through them all right, for he was telling me how
to train when I felt the helm begin to grind as it was thrown hard over
to make a sudden alteration of course. She heeled fifteen or twenty
degrees as she turned six points to starboard, and the boil of her wake
flooded across her stern three or four feet deep. The sudden heel threw
me off my feet, and I pulled up just in time to see us rushing by, and
just missing by a few yards, a stopped destroyer that was nothing but
spurts of fire flashing under a rolling cloud of steam and smoke.
"She seemed to be afire all over, and about ready to blow up; yet, from
the quick flashes of some of the spurts of fire, I knew they came from a
hard-pumped gun that some stout-hearted lads were working to the last.
There was nothing in the look of that spouting volcano of smoke and
steam that would help a man to tell whether it was a battleship or a
trawler, but I knew that it could be only the _Nectar_, our Division
leader. We never saw her nor anyone in her again. She must have gone
down within a few minutes, and anyone that survived fell into the hands
of the enemy. She led us a fine dance while it lasted, and the only pity
was that she couldn't trip it to the end.
"That left the old _Nairobi_ as the last of the Division, and I haven't
any recollection of any of the rest of the flotilla being in sight by
then. Not that I had any time to look for them, though. Our sudden
change of course to keep from ramming the _Nectar_ spoiled our chance at
the second Hun cruiser, but we were left no time to mourn that any more
than the finish of the _Nectar_. Hardly had we left the wreck of her
astern than a full salvo of large shells--I think they must have come
from one of the battle cruisers, for they were much heavier than
anything the light cruisers were firing--struck only thirty or forty
yards short of us. The shells were bunched together like a salvo of
air-bombs kicked loose all at once. The wall of water they threw up shut
everything on that side off from sight for a few seconds, and when the
spouts settled down there was a Hun destroyer inside of a mile away. I
jumped up to give her course and speed to the 'T.I.', but before I had
time more than to see that she had two funnels and many tubes the
bursting projes from our foremost and midships guns began knocking her
to pieces so fast that I soon saw there was no use of wasting a mouldie
on the job.
"I saw the captain waving encouragement from the bridge to the crew of
the midships guns, and, when the noise died down for a moment, I heard
him shout, 'You've got her! Give it to her!' Just then another salvo was
plastered a-straddle of us, and I saw a fragment of shell knock the
sight-setter of the midships gun out of his seat. He looked a little
dazed as he climbed back, but his eye must have been as good as ever,
for I saw his next shot make a hit square on a whaler they were lowering
from the sinking Hun and blow it to bits. A minute or two more, and the
destroyer itself blew up and disappeared under a column of steam and
smoke.
"That," continued Prince, beginning to prod anew his neglected sprayers,
"just about concluded our day's work. As there was no longer any
prospect of getting in mouldie-range of any of the big Huns, and as none
of the little Huns were in sight to fight with gun-fire, it must have
occurred to the captain that it was time he was rejoining the flotilla.
There was only some dark blurs on the north'ard skyline to steer for at
first, and the Huns did all they knew to keep us from getting there,
too. For a while we were doing nothing but playing 'hide-and-seek' among
the salvoes they tried to stop us with, and I have heard since that the
way the captain used his helm to avoid being hit at this stage of the
show was rated as about the cleverest work of the kind in the whole
battle.
"It was the Fifth B.S.--the _Queen Elizabeth_ class--that we caught up
to first, and a grand sight it was, the four of them standing up and
giving battle to about the whole of the High Sea Fleet. They were taking
a heavy pounding without turning a hair, so far as a man could see, and
even when the _Warspite_ had her steering gear knocked out and went
steaming in circles it didn't seem to upset the other three very much.
We sighted our own Battle Fleet about six, and rejoined the flotilla in
good time to be back with the battle cruisers when Beatty took them
round the head of the Hun line and only failed to cut off their retreat
through night coming on.
"Compared with what the next six or eight hours held for some of our
destroyers--or even with what we had just been through ourselves--the
night for us was fairly quiet. We were in action once or twice, and I
saw several ships--mostly enemy, but one or two of our own--go up in
flame and smoke before I went on watch down here at midnight. But
through it all the devil's own luck which had been with us from the
first held good. Although we were through the very hottest of the day
action, and not the least of the night, the old _Nairobi_ did not
receive one direct hit from an enemy shell. She accounted for at least
two Hun ships, saw the other three destroyers of her division sunk or
put out of action, and returned to base with almost empty oil tanks and
perhaps the largest mileage to her credit of any craft in the Jutland
battle--all without a serious casualty or more than a few scratches to
her paint. On top of it all, on the way back to harbour, by the queerest
fluke you ever heard of, she rammed and exploded the air-chamber of a
mouldie that had been fired by a Hun U-boat at the destroyer next in
line ahead of her. As the Yanks say, 'Can you beat it?'"