“On the third morning they heard guns going overhead, and watched the Germans handing out shells to their own guns. Finally a torpedo was fired and they heard it take effect. Then they emerged into the red wash of dawn, and saw only the floating wreckage of the big ship that had been sunk; and amongst the wreckage a small boat. They were bundled into this; told they were free to go to England or Nineveh; and the submarine left them--three longshore fishermen, who had passed through the latest invention of the modern scientific devil, two who could still pull at the oars, but the other too crazy to steer.”[5] [5] Mr. Alfred Noyes in the _Daily Telegraph_, with acknowledgments. * * * * * Here is a skipper’s account of his exciting experience in a mine-sweeper off the entrance to the Dardanelles: “One night we went with lights out up to the Narrows. They let us get right in and as we turned round to take our sweeps up, one of our number was blown up. Then they peppered us from each side from 1½ to 2 miles. “We heard cries for help. I said, ‘We shall have to do the best we can and go back and pick up.’ There was no waiting, no saying, ‘Who shall go?’ As soon as I called for volunteers three jumped in. I kept the vessel as close as I could to shelter the boat. I did not think any would come back, but they did come back. No one was hit and I said, ‘Now we’ll get the boat in.’ Just as we got the boat nicely clear of the water, along came a shot and knocked it to splinters. “I shouted, ‘All hands keep under cover as much as you can,’ and I got on the bridge and we went full steam ahead. I could not tell you what it was like with floating and sunken mines and shots everywhere. We got knocked about, the mast almost gone, rigging gone, and she was riddled right along the starboard side. One of the hands we picked up had his left arm smashed with shrapnel.”[6] [6] From the _Times History of the War_, with acknowledgments. “I am afraid,” said an English statesman in the House of Commons, “that I cannot do justice to all that I feel about the work of these men. It is little known to the public. They do not work in the presence of great bodies of men, to admire and applaud them for their gallantry. Small crews in stormy seas suddenly brought face to face with unexpected peril, they never seem to me to fail. No danger, no difficulty is too great for them. The debt of this country to them cannot be counted.” “THE PADRE” The army or navy chaplain was usually known as “the padre,” and the use of the familiar name (which means “the father”) shows how these brave men had won the hearts of the soldiers. This is not surprising for the chaplains were not only to be found at “the back of the front,” but shared many of the dangers faced so bravely by the fighting men of the first line.