If we consider these facts in regard to the later tactics of the submarines in contest with our decoy ships, there is much that becomes clear. The excellence of our intelligence system has been shown by various British and German writers since the war, and, as a rule, we were extraordinarily prepared for the new developments with which our Q-ships were likely to be faced. On the other hand, the enemy’s supply of intelligence was bad, and if we put ourselves in the position of an inexperienced young U-boat captain we can easily see how difficult was his task toward the end of hostilities. He was sent out to sink ships, and yet practically every British ship was at least armed defensively, and there was nothing to indicate which of them might be a well-armed decoy, save for the fact that he had been informed by his superiors that trap-ships were seldom of a size greater than 4,000 tons. Sailing ships, fishing craft, and steamers might be ready to spring a surprise, so that it was not easy for the German to combine ruthless attack with reasonable caution: thus, in effect, the battle came down to a matter of personality. It was not merely a question of the man behind the gun, nor of the man behind the torpedo, but the man at the periscope of the submarine versus the man peeping at him from the spy-hole of the steamer. They were strange tactics, indeed, to be employed in naval war when we consider the simple, hearty methods of previous campaigns in history, but even as an impersonal study of two foes this perpetual battle of wits, of subtleties, and make-believe, must ever remain both interesting and instructive in spite of the terrible loss of life accompanying it. Life on board one of the small steam Q-ships was, apart from its dangers arising through mines and submarines, distinctly lacking in comfort. The following extracts from the private diary of a Q-ship’s commanding officer at different dates afford, in the fewest words, an insight into the life on board: ‘The heavy westerly gale was banking up the west-going tide, and made the most fierce and dangerous sea that I have ever seen. The ship made little headway and was tossed about like a small boat. Fortunately we managed to keep end on to the sea, or I think the old tub would have gone slick over. As it was she behaved well, though her movements were pretty violent. Seas broke over the stern and washed away the stern gratings, one big sea broke right over the forward deck, a tumbling mass of foam, into the water on the other side of the ship, carrying away a ventilator and some steam-pipes. I had one spasm of anxiety, when in the middle of all this the wheel jammed for a few seconds, and I feared she would broach-to. If we had done so, I think the ship would at once have been rolled over and smothered. I have never before seen such enormous breakers....’