The captain of the troopship _Transylvania_ had just called the famous
"Every man for himself" order after the boat had received two torpedoes
from a submarine.
The nurses had been got off safely in a boat, but our own prospects of
safety seemed very remote. Along came a Cockney with his cigarettes and
the remark, "Who'll 'ave a fag afore they get wet?"--_A. W. Harvey, 97
Elderfield Road, Clapton, E.5 (late 10th London Regiment)._
"Spotty" the Jonah
On board the s.s. _Lorrento_ in 1917 with me was one "Spotty" Smith,
A.B., of London. He had been torpedoed five times, and was reputed
to be the sole survivor on the last two occasions. Such a Jonah-like
reputation brought him more interest than affection from sailormen.
Approaching Bizerta--a danger spot in the South Mediterranean--one dark
night, all lights out, "Spotty" so far forgot himself as to strike
matches on deck. In lurid and forcible language the mate requested him
"not to beat his infernal record on this ship."
"Spotty," intent on turning away wrath, replied, "S'elp me, sir, I've
'ad enough of me heroic past. This next time, sir, I made up me mind
to go down with the rest of the crew!"--_J. E. Drury, 77 Eridge Road,
Thornton Heath._
He Just Caught the Bus!
After an arduous spell of patrol duty, our submarine had hove to to
allow the crew a much-needed breather and smoke. For this purpose only
the conning-tower hatch was opened so as to be ready to submerge, if
necessity arose, with the minimum of delay.
Eager to take full advantage of this refreshing interlude, the crew
had emerged, one by one, through the conning-tower and had disposed
themselves in sprawling attitudes around the upper deck space, resting,
reading, smoking.