“On leaving the line the flag-ship, though burning badly, still steamed after the fleet, but under the fire we brought to bear upon her, she rapidly lost her foremast and both funnels, besides being completely enveloped in flames and smoke. She was so battered that scarcely any one would have taken her for a ship, and yet, even in this pitiful condition, like the flag-ship which she was, she never ceased to fire as much as possible with such of her guns as were serviceable.” I will quote another extract from a report on the operations of Admiral Kamimura’s squadron: “The _Suvoroff_, subjected to the fire of both our squadrons, left the line. Her upper part was riddled with holes, and she was entirely enveloped in smoke. Her masts had fallen and her funnels came down one after the other. She was unable to steer, and her fires increased in density every moment. But, even outside the fighting line, she still continued firing, so that our bravest sailors credited her with making a plucky resistance.” And now to return to my personal observations and impressions. Amidst the rumbling fire of our own guns, the bursting of the enemy’s shells, and the roaring of the flames, I was, of course, unable to think about the direction to which we were turning--whether to or from the wind, but I soon found out. When the battleship, turning on her course, lay stern on to the wind, the smoke from the flames of the burning spar-deck leapt right up to the fore-bridge where I was standing. While occupied in looking for the torpedo-boats, I had probably not noticed the danger creeping towards me, and only realised it on finding myself enveloped in an impenetrable smoke. Burning air parched my face and hands, while a caustic smell of burning almost blinded me. Breathing was impossible. I felt I must save myself, but to do so I had to go through the flames, for there was no other way on to the poop. For a moment the thought flashed across me to jump from the bridge on to the forward 12-inch turret, but to remember where I was, to choose places to which and whence to jump, was impossible. How did I get out of this hell? Perhaps some of the crew who had seen me on the bridge dragged me out! How I arrived on the upper battery on a well-known spot near the ship’s ikon, I can’t remember, and I can’t imagine! Having recovered my breath, drunk some water and rubbed my eyes, I looked about. It seemed quite pleasant here. The large ikon case was still unbroken, and with the exception of the first shell which had destroyed the temporary dressing station, the quiet of this little corner had apparently been undisturbed. Among some of the crew who were standing by I recognised a few of Demchinsky’s signalmen, and, in reply to my enquiries as to his whereabouts, they told me that having been wounded he had made his way to the hospital.