If the German High Seas Fleet had shown any activity it is a doubtful matter whether Sir David Beatty would have allowed his officers and men to leave the fleet. It must be understood that it was not merely a case of borrowing these men for a day or two, but for a period of several weeks, so that they could be specially trained for their somewhat unusual duties. Sir David Beatty, however, considered that the risk of rendering his ships temporarily short-handed was justified in view of the importance of our expedition. His chief difficulty lay in the matter of selection. Owing to the necessity of secrecy he could not issue an ordinary memorandum to all and sundry stating our object and asking for volunteers. So each Flag Officer was requested to produce a certain number of officers and men from his own particular {105} squadron. Likely individuals were to be asked if they were prepared to undertake something "hazardous"; no further intimation as to the nature of the enterprise was to be promulgated. Similar methods of selection were adopted at the naval and marine depots. It is not difficult to imagine the buzz of excitement which passed through each ship when rumour suggested that there was something afoot. If the nature of the operation had been divulged and volunteers requested, there would have been twenty thousand names sent in. That was the Commander-in-Chief's own opinion. But the secret must be safeguarded. So the selection was made by the officers--so many men from each ship, seamen, stokers, and marines. At that stage the selected men knew nothing except that they were required for something "hazardous." Life in the fleet was not altogether free from hazard in the ordinary course of events. With one's living space surrounded by the most destructive of high explosives in close proximity, perhaps a matter of inches, with the seas either mine-strewn or, in the absence of mines, containing lurking submarines, with the ever-present danger of collision between vessels steaming at high speed without lights on the darkest night, it cannot be said that naval life in war-time carries an insignificant insurance premium. But the coming operation was something different. It was declared to be "hazardous." If the usual life at sea as described above carried no such descriptive title, the word "hazardous" meant much. Though little enough was known as to the business ahead, it was sufficient to raise the envy of the great {106} majority of men who were not fortunate enough to be selected. One could well imagine the little knots of men who gathered together in the evening and discoursed on the injustice of being left behind. The intense interest with which the special training of the chosen few was watched could almost be felt. For boat-pulling, physical drill, and route marching, commenced immediately, were the order of the day, just to prepare the men for the more intensive training to follow.