I threw myself out of the car and took cover with the others. My brother officers were splitting with laughter, for, however serious the situation, I must have looked a funny sight. We then learned what had happened. A Japanese destroyer-flotilla lay in front and was trying to destroy Shatsy-Kou by her fire. We spent the next two hours under shell-fire, in our cramped and exposed position, without being able either to see or to move. At midday the Japs made a pause, probably in order to enjoy their dinner. While we examined the damage done to the house, the Chinese boys were already eagerly collecting shell-splinters. And, as we sat down for a moment to a cup of coffee, three small Chinks arrived with radiant faces, and planked three unexploded shells down in front of us. It would have made a fine mess if they had gone off then! We started soon after on our return journey; but as we entered the first valley new shells exploded behind us—the bombardment was resumed. A little later Shatsy-Kou had to be evacuated with the whole Protectorate, and on the 28th of September we retreated behind the principal retrenchments, and at the same time the first bombardment on a large scale was started from the sea. “Some” noise! In the early morning of that day I sat in my bath in the best of spirits, refreshing myself before a long flight, when I heard the most appalling noise. As our artillery had been active day and night, I did not pay much attention to this additional racket, but attributed it to the firing of our 28-centimetre howitzer of the Bismarck battery, which lay at the foot of my villa, and had so far kept silent to economize our ammunition. I sent out my batman to see that my aeroplane was kept in readiness. But after a very few minutes he returned breathless and a little pale, and reported: “Sir, we must leave the villa at once; we are being bombarded by four big ships. One of the heavy shells has just landed near the sheds, but, thank God, the aeroplane is not damaged, and no one is hurt. But I burnt my fingers. I saw such a beautiful large splinter, and wanted to carry it away as a souvenir; it was _so_ hot, but I got it, all the same!” And he beamingly showed me his singed pocket-handkerchief, which held the huge splinter of a 30-centimetre shell! But I was already out of my bath, and in two minutes had reached the aerodrome where, with combined efforts, we pushed my aeroplane into a more sheltered corner of the field. After that I ran to look at the bombardment from the Shore-commander’s guard-house. The latter lay on a hill, from which one had an ideal view of Kiao-Chow. One could follow the flight of every shell, and from now onwards, whenever I was not flying, I sat up here during the next weeks, watching the fight. The first bombardment of Kiao-Chow took place on the 28th of September, and was particularly impressive.