A MIDSHIPMAN’S LOG EDITED BY HIS MOTHER LONDON WILLIAM HEINEMANN First Published June 1916. New Impressions July, September, October 1916. London: William Heinemann, 1916. First Published June 1916. New Impressions July, September, October 1916. London: William Heinemann, 1916....

The responsibility for the publication of this book lies with me, and with me alone. I trust that that great “Silent Service,” one of whose finest traditions is to “do” and not to “talk,” will see in it no indiscretion. To state that these pages make no claim to literary merit seems almost superfluous, since they are simply a boy’s story of ten months of the Great War as he saw it. In deference to the said tradition the names of officers and ships concerned have been suppressed—those of the mids

At 6 o’clock next morning we were all awakened by the réveillé, and trooped down in a body to the bath-rooms for the cold plunge with which, unless excused by doctor’s orders, every cadet must begin the day. Then, having been informed by the senior cadets who were placed in authority over us that if we were not dressed in one and a half minutes the consequences would be unpleasant, we threw on as many clothes as possible, and ran out of the dormitory surreptitiously carrying boots, ties and coll

MANŒUVRES This summer term of 1914, destined surely to be the most momentous in the whole history of the College, nevertheless pursued its normal course until July 18, on which date began the great test mobilisation of the “Fleet in being,” to which we had all been eagerly looking forward for some weeks. It is, perhaps, too soon to speculate on the influence which this most opportune concentration of sea power brought to bear on the course of the War. Was it due to foresight? Was it a deliberate

Once outside willing hands loaded them into every conceivable vehicle, from motor lorries to brewers’ drays, and these conveyed them post haste to the pier, where they were loaded on the steamer Mew , and ferried across the river to Kingswear Station. For two hours the work of transportation went on, and then all cadets turned to and strapped together such games, gear, and books as were to be sent home. At 5.30 every one fell in on the quarter-deck, and as each received his pay went off to the m

He was a small man of middle-age, inclining to stoutness, clean shaven, slightly bald, with deep-set eyes, which appeared dark in the shadow of heavy overhanging eyebrows. He eyed us keenly until we were all assembled, and then, leaning forward towards us, he rapped sharply on his desk with a ruler, and said in a deep bass voice— “Young gentlemen, it is war-time, and you have been sent to sea as officers in His Majesty’s Navy!” He then continued, so far as I can remember, to express the hope tha

That evening a beautiful August half-moon shone down on the heaving waters and the sky was studded with stars. The great arc of the Milky Way hung above us, and on the horizon the lighthouses of Cherbourg and the Channel Islands flashed their intermittent rays, at one moment throwing everything into high relief, and at the next passing on like great fingers of light across the sea before they faded to total eclipse. Next day excitement ran high, for a rumour reached us that the great German line

This incident was pure bad luck and not due to faulty seamanship—had the pinnace been a new boat the stern would easily have withstood the strain, but she was nearly twenty years old and her planks were weakened by age. On the next day the whole fleet did big gun practice in the Channel. Down in the Fore T.S. the sound was considerably deadened, but the violent vibrations and the increase of air pressure following on each discharge had a most jarring and unpleasant effect on the ear-drums. The s

At this time we had taken to sleeping on deck because of the heat, and in the middle of that night I woke up just as we were passing three Indian troopships which were tied up to the eastern bank of the Canal. A gorgeous full moon was shining down on the desert, silvering the sand, and making everything almost as clear as in daylight. There was no sound to break the silence save the gentle lippety-lap of our wash against the banks. I got up and leant over the shelter deck watching the desert as

O.S. Punch : February 16, 1916. In all we were about three weeks at the camp, and we spent some very happy days there; but the end came rather unexpectedly one evening, when we suddenly received an order from the ship to pack all our gear and get on board by 9 the following morning. We were a little sorry, and yet in a sense relieved, for after all we were out to fight, not to picnic—and we had hardly seen a shot fired since we left home waters. We telephoned to the port officer to have a car re

Next day we still remained in harbour, so the others got their leave after all. During the day, much to our curiosity, we took on board three rickshaws. No one could imagine what they could be wanted for! Further, we accumulated some more biscuit-boxes and some tins of petrol. That evening we weighed anchor and proceeded out to sea. Just at the mouth of the harbour we were confronted by a big bar which—as the tide was running the same way as the river, i.e. ebbing—had not been there when we came

On the morning of the fourth day we again got under way for the Dardanelles, and arrived there on the 25th of April. We steamed round the island of Tenedos, and took up our station at the end of a line of some ten or more ships already anchored there. During the voyage over I had been appointed in charge of the picket boat, and as soon as we had anchored my boat was lowered to take some officers to a cruiser which was going to take them over to the Dardanelles to have a look at the positions we

Then the ship started to heel rapidly again, and I felt sure there was no chance of saving her. I turned to jump overboard. The Commander, who was standing a few paces away on my right, went over a second before me. Raising my arms above my head I sprang well out board and dived. Just before I struck the water my face hit the side of the ship. It was a horrid feeling sliding on my face down the slimy side, and a second later I splashed in with tremendous force, having dived about thirty feet. Ju

However, my discontent was short-lived, for I soon found that, after all, my luck was “in.” That afternoon I was leaning over the stanchions looking at the shipping in the harbour, and wondering what fate might have in store for me, when the Lieutenant-Commander of the T.B.s and the Captain of the Fauvette came along the deck and stopped close to where I was standing, and I heard the former say that he intended—if he could get the Admiral’s permission—to take one of the rescued midshipmen to act