"Our boat got away at the start magnificently and led the field, so all the enemy's firing was aimed at us for the next ten minutes, when we got so close that debris from their shells fell on board. Then we altered our course and so threw them out in their reckoning of our speed, and they had all their work to do over again. "Humanly speaking, our captain by twisting and turning at psychological moments saved us. Actually, I feel that we were in God's keeping that day. After ten minutes we got near enough to fire our torpedo. Then we turned back to the Arethusa. Next our follower arrived just where we had been and fired its torpedo, and of course the enemy fired at it instead of at us. What a blessed relief! "After the destroyers came the Fearless, and it stayed on the scene. Soon we found it was engaging a three-funneler, the Mainz, so off we started again, now for the Mainz, the situation being that the crippled Arethusa was too tubby to do anything but be defended by us, its children. "Scarcely, however, had we started when, from out of the mist and across our front, in furious pursuit came the first cruiser squadron of the town class, the Birmingham, and each unit a match for three like the Mainz, which was soon sunk. As we looked and reduced speed they opened fire, and the clear bang-bang of their guns was just like a cooling drink. "To see a real big four-funneler spouting flame, which flame denoted shells starting, and those shells not at us but for us, was the most cheerful thing possible. Once we were in safety, I hated it. We had just been having our own imaginations stimulated on the subject of shells striking. "Now, a few minutes later, to see another ship not three miles away, reduced to a piteous mass of unrecognizability, wreathed in black fumes from which flared out angry gusts of fire like Vesuvius in eruption, as an unending stream of hundred-pound shells burst on board it, just pointed the moral and showed us what might have been. "The Mainz was immensely gallant. The last I saw of it it was absolutely wrecked. It was a fuming inferno. But it had one gun forward and one aft still spitting forth fury and defiance like a wild cat. "Then we went west, while they went east. Just a bit later we heard the thunder of the enemy's guns for a space. Then fell silence, and we knew that was all. A MARVELOUS RESCUE "The most romantic, dramatic, and piquant episode that modern war can ever show came next. The Defender, having sunk an enemy, lowered a whaler to pick up its swimming survivors. Before the whaler got back, an enemy's cruiser came up and chased the Defender, which thus had to abandon its small boat.