Every man in the ship is working at his appointed station during an action--even the cooks are busy assisting with the supply of ammunition--everyone is behind armour, or below the waterline, with the exception of those few whose duties do not permit of it. This fact accounts for the comparatively few casualties in the ships that come out the victors in a sea fight, in spite of the tremendous havoc done by a shell bursting in the vicinity of cast steel, which throws up multitudes of splinter in all directions. The guns' crews are all working at their respective weapons, sometimes wading in water if a heavy swell falls short close to them. Yet they see the result of their work, and every bit of damage done to the enemy is invariably put down to the handiwork of their individual gun. They may be said to be having the time of their lives in a successful action. During a lull, the enemy's fire is heavily criticised; suggestions as to the corrections that should be applied to his gunsights in order to get a hit are calmly made as they watch the splashes of his projectiles, and are as soon contradicted by some other authority who suggests something different. When their own ship is hit a remark is made to the effect--"That was a good 'un!" from the coldly calculating point of view of the expert. Unaccountable as it may seem, during artillery fire at sea there is usually this irrepressible desire to figure out the corrections needed for the enemy's gunsights in order that he may register a direct hit. Several of our naval officers testified to this strange phenomenon at Gallipoli, when undergoing a bombardment from Turkish forts and batteries, and added that they were held fascinated in doing so. On the other hand, when a shell goes beyond the ship, at the first shrill whiz-z-z overhead, one calculates deliberately that the enemy will shortly lower his range, and, discretion being the better part of valour, the welcome shelter of a turret, casemate, or conning tower is speedily sought. It is curious that if the shells are falling short there is no such concern for the safety of one's skin. The writer has seen a group of officers having a spirited argument as to the corrections that should be made to the sights of a Turkish gun whose shell fell a few hundred yards short of the ship. It was not till one screamed past their heads, pitching in the water on the far side, that they thought of taking cover. The analogy does not apparently hold good to the same extent in the sister Service, for on terra firma the range is registered with fair accuracy, and it is usual to scuttle off to a dug-out as soon as Beachy Bill or Long Tom opens fire.