For a second the officer glanced at the ships ahead. Even as he turned, he saw three enemy shells falling on the next ahead. The voice of the man at the range-finder again took up the refrain: ‘15,000—14,500—14,000.’ The hulls of the enemy ships were now plainly visible, but the range was still too great for the secondary armament to be of any value against the thickly armoured sides of the German ships. Would they never come any nearer? As if in reply to his question, he suddenly saw a line of low black hulls emerge from behind the enemy ships and come tearing in a line diagonally towards him. Here was work at last! Seizing the navyphone, he shouted down to the captain: ‘Destroyer attack on the port bow. Request permission to open fire.’ The reply came back: ‘Open fire at 10,000.’ Dropping the navyphone, he picked up the voice tube and commenced the orders to the transmitting station which would let loose six thousand six hundred pounds of shell per minute at the rapidly approaching enemy. ‘Destroyer. One mast, two funnels. ‘Range 9500. Deflection 16 right. Rate 550 closing. ‘Load with lyddite. Salvoes. ‘Shoot!’ Anxiously he gazed at the leader of the approaching destroyers. Good shooting, but a little to the left. Undoubtedly she was hit or, at least, badly spattered, as she altered course a little. Correcting this, he shouted down: ‘Shoot!’ Again the deadly hail smothered the little vessel in foam. From the top the men on her decks could be clearly seen training the torpedo tubes and getting ready to fire. As she approached, the order was given: ‘Down 400! Shoot!’ There was a sudden burst of speed on the part of the destroyer, which was immediately allowed for. ‘Down 400. Close rate 200. Rate 750 closing! Shoot!’ ‘Good hunting!’ he muttered, as the destroyer swerved in her path and, apparently badly injured, commenced to alter her course so as to get out of action. Smoke and flame were belching from her forward, whilst amidships a ragged hole in her side could be seen from which great clouds of steam came out in gasps. She was heeling towards him, and the crew could be seen plainly through glasses, fitting on their life-belts and dragging at the falls of their badly damaged whaler. Rafts were being cast loose, and the deck was strewn with bodies which, even as they watched, commenced to roll slowly down the sloping deck. ‘Not much need to worry about him!’ thought the lieutenant. ‘He’s finished. Time to get on with the next.’ The second destroyer had been attended to by the ship astern, but the third was still coming on, apparently uninjured. She was rapidly altering both course and speed in order to avoid the deadly salvoes and spoil the range-finding. ‘Oh, that’s your game,’ said the officer. ‘We’ll see what we can do for you.’ Speaking down the voice-pipe again, he shouted: ‘Object shifted. Third destroyer from left. Range 8500. Same deflection and rate! Salvoes! Shoot!’ All-overs was reported by the spotter.