The _Corsair_ and _Alcedo_ returned to the scene of the accident and circled about for two hours when the _Alcedo_ began the rescue of the survivors, the _Corsair_ continuing to look for the submarine. Too much credit cannot be given to the officers and men of the _Corsair_ and _Alcedo_ for their rescue work and for their whole-heartedness and generosity in succoring the needs of the survivors. The work of the medical officers attached to these yachts was worthy of highest praise. It is one of the many black marks against the sinister record of the German submarine campaign that the naval vessels with a convoy in such a catastrophe as this were compelled to delay the rescue of the survivors—dazed, wounded, helpless men in the last struggle for life. It was possible that the submarine might come up to gloat over the murder it had wrought, or attempt to take prisoners, or even to ram the lifeboats or turn a machine gun on the struggling wretches, as had happened more than once. Therefore, in this instance the _Corsair_ and _Alcedo_ steamed at full speed, dropping depth charges and manœuvring to avoid torpedo attack while they scouted to drive away or destroy the ambushed U-boat. As soon as it seemed advisable, they closed in and undertook the work of saving life, the _Corsair_ still circling the outer edge of the area because of her superior speed. One of her crew described the scene in this manner: It should be noted that although the _Corsair_ spent most of her time looking for the submarine, she picked up a large number of survivors and without putting over a boat. One of these rescues was that of a lad who was riding upon an ammunition box. When the _Corsair_ was brought alongside him, he began to semaphore us to keep off, and then he shouted to steer clear and go easy because he had a cargo of shells and didn’t want to blow up our ship. When we hoisted him aboard, he begged us to fetch his salvaged ammunition along, as he didn’t think it ought to be wasted. I doubt if he had many shells in the box, but he surely did show the right spirit, and the men agreed that he was “one game little guy.” Shortly before we picked up this fine young bantam, we took aboard a loaded life-raft, under our starboard side. It was a delicate piece of seamanship, with a troublesome sea running, and the commander let our executive, Captain Porter, show what he could do with the yacht. The men of the _Antilles_ owed a lot to the skill with which the _Corsair_ was handled that morning.