"She heeled completely over, and sank in eight and a half minutes, hundreds of men clambering over her side, and standing there, just as if it were the upper deck, waiting for the final plunge. But there was no plunge. Slowly and slowly she sank, and as she went down some were sliding into the sea, others taking running leaps. A few seconds more, and there was no sign of her left, except her dead and living clustered in the water together. We were about three hundred yards away, and watched her go down, and I was particularly struck with the ease and slowness with which she sank. Not till the waves had almost entirely closed over her did the bow heave slightly out of the water, and she disappeared stern first." The _Bluecher_ went to her doom with her flag flying. Some of the crew, while waiting the order to leap into the water, sang "_Die Wacht am Rhein_." Officers were seen to shake hands and link arms together, and thus sink into their watery grave. Though the Germans had made no attempt to save the crews of the _Monmouth_ and the _Good Hope_ during the fight off Coronel, and though our men were furious at the fiendish work done by the German cruisers at Scarborough and the Hartlepools, they began the work of rescue at once. Torpedo boats and pinnaces rushed to the scene to pick up survivors, and light cruisers stood by to help. "A cry of 'Jump!' went up from the deck of the _Arethusa_, and in a few seconds the sea was dotted thickly with men swimming for their lives. Most of them were equipped with a life-belt of inflated rubber, and this supported them in the water until the British boats were able to pick them up. Among them were men who had been wounded. The faces of all were blackened with smoke, and in some cases the nerve of the men had almost completely broken down in face of the severe ordeal through which they had passed. Their joy at escaping destruction found expression in many ways. The officers, of whom eight were taken aboard the _Arethusa_, offered their rings, watches, and money to the British sailors. Our men wished for no reward for performing a humane duty; but the officers pressed the gifts upon them, saying, 'You have saved our lives; take these as little mementos.' One of them, speaking quite good English, said, with a sigh of relief, 'It's been a terrible time, and I am jolly glad it's all over.'"