As you know, I was on the cruiser _Cressy_ on September 22, 1914, when
in company with the cruisers _Aboukir_ and _Hogue_ she was torpedoed by
a German submarine. My life has been spared in a most miraculous way.
About 6:15 a.m. I was awakened by some marines waking their comrades.
"Get up quick, the _Aboukir_ is sinking."
I tumbled out of my bunk, put on my shoes and slipping my big coat
over my pajamas I hastened up to the sheltered deck. I should tell you
that we were proceeding in line formation, the _Hogue_ leading, our
ship, the _Cressy_, bringing up the rear. We were steaming between six
to nine knots, and at a distance of about a mile or so apart. When
I got on deck the _Hogue_ had fallen back on the starboard side of
the _Aboukir_, while we stood by on the port side, both of us a good
distance off.
The _Aboukir_ had signalled asking for boats, which, of course, were
sent off to them. Their ship gradually began to turn turtle, and it was
an inspiring sight to see the ship's company lined up on the side of
the ship awaiting the order, "Every man for himself." After a while I
went down to the quarter deck and began with the others to throw planks
of wood, etc., overboard.
While doing this the Hogue was hit by a torpedo from a German submarine
and very quickly settled down. Indeed, no sooner was she hit than her
quarter deck was below water. She then listed, turned turtle, and in
about ten minutes had disappeared.
Our captain sent me word to take photographs, and I had taken five when
I saw the white line of a torpedo approaching us in the starboard side,
in line with the aft-bridge.
A few shouts heralded her approach, but nothing could be done, as our
engines were not going, and she bored her hole in our side.
The impact was not so great or so terrible as I should have thought,
indeed it was a dull thud, and did not even throw me off my feet.
Previous to this the order to close watertight doors had been given, an
order which prevented this torpedo doing so much serious damage.
We listed to starboard about 40 degrees, and after a time the ship
righted herself to about 30 degrees. Everyone was on the look-out for
submarines, and guns were fired at every suspicious-looking object that
looked like like a periscope. I am not going to make any assertions,
as I am much too inexperienced. I was standing by when three guns were
fired.
The first was fired at what I thought to be a man's head. At any rate
the shell hit something, for it exploded.
Unfortunately, I was called down from the boat deck then, so did not
see what ensued, but the gunner says he saw two men pop up from the
spot after he fired a second shot, and the torpedo lieutenant supports
his assertion of having hit the submarine.
The second shot I saw (of course, other guns were fired) was at what I
feel sure was a submarine. She came up, and it was a plucky thing to
do, amid a mass of struggling men. I do not know if she was hit, but
I admit I felt a spasm of horror at the damage to our own men in the
water.
The third shot went right home, and did its work, and I cheered
heartily with the rest. The Germans evidently attacked us under cover
of a sailing trawler carrying the Dutch flag. This trawler, after we
had all been hit, made no attempt at rescue work, a heartless act that
roused our anger, and the captain of the after 9.2 gun trained his gun
on her and fired. The shell hit her in the stern and she at once took
fire.