At about this time a large stack of Stokes bomb {238} boxes, containing fused bombs, was set on fire by a shell. All the fire-extinguishing apparatus in the vicinity had already been shot away. The chief Quartermaster, Petty Officer E. G. Youlton, whilst shouting to others to take cover, extinguished the fire by hauling out the burning boxes and stamping on them. A few moments later the fire broke out afresh. Youlton repeated his very gallant efforts and succeeded in saving a very awkward situation. [Sidenote: The Recall] The storming parties commenced to return to the ship almost at once. Many of the ship's company, officers and men, assisted in carrying the wounded on board over the gangways, which were as rickety as ever. One Marine carried a disabled man on board, placed his charge on the deck, kissed him on both cheeks and was heard to remark, "I wasn't going to leave you, Bill." I have seen both statements and illustrations to the effect that our storming parties, before leaving, erected a staff on the Mole and hoisted a Union Jack upon it. It may seem a pity to spoil a good story, but this event was quite imaginary. A memento of our visit, however, was prepared in the shape of a board to which were attached our visiting cards bearing the letters P.P.C., but there is no very clear evidence as to whether this memento was left on the Mole, though I believe that was the case. A shell burst just outside the conning tower whilst three of us were discussing the probability of any men being still on the Mole. Lieutenant-Commander Rosoman was shot through both legs; Petty Officer Youlton had an arm shattered; a very slight wound in the shoulder was my own share of the damage. {239} By the time that fifteen minutes had elapsed from the sounding of the retirement signal practically all the storming parties had returned. No more men were seen to come back, but I had given a definite promise that the full twenty minutes' notice would be allowed. After repeated assurances from other officers, backed up by my own personal observation, that no others were returning we decided to leave the Mole. The cable had already been unshackled ready for slipping overboard when no longer required. Lieutenant-Commander Rosoman, in spite of his wounds, accompanied me to the conning tower. He absolutely refused to sit down, but remained standing so that he could keep a lookout through the slit in the armour. The conning tower was of very small dimensions. Four wounded men had previously crawled inside and had died where they lay. Three or four other wounded men had crawled in later on and had collapsed. One of the telegraphs to the engine-room had been shot away, but the telephone was intact.