"There's not another such four-inch gun's crew as that one in any ship in the Mediterranean," he said, "which makes it all the greater pity that they have never once had a chance to fire a shot at anything of the enemy's any larger than that Bulgar bombing plane they cocked up and took a pot at after he had gone over yesterday. I mean that they never had a chance as a crew. Individually, I believe there are two or three of them that have been through some of the hottest shows in the war. That slender chap there in the blue overall was in the _Killarney_ when she was shot to pieces and sunk by German cruisers at Jutland, and I believe his Number Two--that one in a singlet, with his sleeves rolled up and just a bit of a limp--was in the _Seagull_ when she was rammed, right in the middle of an action with the Huns, by both the _Bow_ and the _Wreath_. A number of ratings from the _Seagull_ clambered over the forecastle of the _Bow_ while the two were locked together, evidently because they thought their own ship was going down, while two or three men from the _Bow_ were thrown by the force of the collision on to the _Seagull_. When the two broke loose and drifted apart men from each of them were left on the other, and by a rather interesting coincidence, we have right here in the _Spark_ at this moment representatives of both batches. They, with two or three other Jutland 'veterans' who chance also to be in the _Spark_, call themselves the 'Black Marias.' Just why, I'm not quite sure, but I believe it has something to do with their all being finally picked up by one destroyer and carried back to harbour like a lot of drunks after a night's spree. And, to hear them talk of it when they get together, that is the spirit in which they affect to regard a phase of the Jutland battle which wiped out some scores of their mates and two or three of the destroyers of their flotilla. Talking with one of them alone, he will occasionally condescend to speak of the serious side of the show, but their joint reminiscences, in the constant by-play of banter, are more suggestive of tumultuous 'nights of gladness' on the beach at Port Said or Rio than the most murderous spasm of night fighting in the whose course of naval history. You've got a long and probably tiresome day ahead of you. Perhaps it might ease the monotony a bit if you had a yarn with two or three of them. They'll be bored stiff standing by in this blazing sun with small prospects of anything turning up, and probably easier to draw out than at most times. Gains, there by the foremost gun, would be a good one for a starter. There is no doubt of his having seen some minutes of the real thing in the _Killarney_. Only don't try a frontal attack on him. Just saunter along and start talking about anything else on earth than Jutland and the _Killarney_, and then lead him round by degrees." * * * * *