All went well, except for a few seas we took over the side, until three o’clock Monday morning. I was in my bunk below decks at the time and, by the way, all I had on in the line of clothing was my underwear and the heavy sweater sent me from home. It was the first time since the day I watched the _Antilles_ go down that I had turned in without all my clothes on. We figured that we were free from the danger of submarine attack in such a rough sea, hence our “nighties.” I fell asleep about midnight and was slumbering peacefully when I heard and felt an explosion and woke to find everybody making for the hatches. Dazed, I ploughed through about four feet of water, almost naked, and popped on deck. There it looked to me as though the old ship had been almost blown in two. Deck-houses and hatches were all messed up and the yacht seemed to be slowly settling. We made for the boats only to find them smashed, and then waited for orders. The cry went round, “All hands save ship,” and if you hear that once you’ll never forget it. By this time I had scooted through the yeoman’s office and grabbed enough clothing together so I could lend a hand on the topside. It was the coolness of the officers and men that saved us from watery graves. We tore apart every table and door below decks to mend things until we could make port. I don’t believe the ship will ever go to sea again, except that she may be put in good enough shape to take us back to France from Lisbon about the middle of February or thereabouts. Of the destroyers which were caught offshore and rode out the hurricane, the _Reid_ was blown into Oporto, severely knocked about. Her log recorded: _December 17th._ Torpedo truck carried away and washed overboard. Lost machine lathe and wherry. Whaleboat smashed and ice-box, life-preserver locker and vegetable locker broken loose by seas breaking aboard. Lost life-buoy light, compass binnacle light, guard to wheel chains, etc. 8 A.M. to noon, steaming as in previous watch. Having serious main engine bearing trouble, due to salt water in lubrication system. At 9 A.M. passed U.S.S. _Corsair_ close aboard and asked her to stand by and assist us back to Brest. (_Corsair_ had answered our S.O.S. from near by.) Lost sight of _Corsair_ at 10.30 A.M., due to rain squalls and heavy weather. Foot of water in firemen’s compartment through hatch, and engine-room and all other compartments flooded. The engine-room log of the _Reid_ makes interesting reading, for the _Corsair_ was in much the same plight: Heavy sea swept over engine-room hatch at 4.30 A.M., carrying away ventilators and lathe and flooding engine-room. Glass covering to oil manifold carried away and settling tank flooded. Bearings running warm. Too much water running from sea.