An interesting account of the efficiency of this policing of the North Sea was related by two trawler skippers, a week after the fight, to a Daily Telegraph Correspondent who remarks that the modus operandi necessitates a continuous vigilance, mostly under cover of the darkness, and entails a strain upon the naval officers and men that can only be appreciated by those who witness it.
The first skipper stated that he had just come from Iceland:
At one point up north there was, he said, a solid wall of warships, which made it impossible for any foe to break through undetected. The scrutiny did not end with a mere examination at the point mentioned. After being released our boat was followed by a couple of torpedo destroyers until we reached our destination. In this way we were not only convoyed, but the warships made absolutely certain that we were British trawlers. The experience, being novel to us, was very inspiring.
The other skipper’s story was even more interesting. He is in charge of a North Sea boat, and anchored each night near the shore.
We were laid under the land, he said, when about two in the morning a cruiser suddenly appeared alongside of us. All his lights were extinguished, and the quiet way in which he came up and the clever tactics he showed in getting alongside without doing any damage was astonishing.
Talk about cats seeing in the dark, these naval officers are wonderful. When the cruiser reached us all we could see was a huge black object hemming us in. A voice shouted out, “Who are you?” and I answered back, “A British trawler.” “What is your name?” he asked, and I replied. “When did you leave?” he next asked. I told him. “What were your orders when you left?” he next asked. I told him and in a flash the commander of the cruiser shouted back, “All right.”
It was a fine piece of work, believe me, but there was something even more astonishing. Directly the commander had finished talking to me another voice from the stern of our vessel sung out, “The name is quite correct, sir.” A submarine had crept up behind to verify our name and number, and although all the crew had come on deck to see what was happening, not one of the men aft had seen the submarine appear. The whole episode only occupied a few minutes, and the cruiser, after wishing us good morning and plenty of fishing, disappeared in the darkness. I have seen the British Navy in times of peace, but to see it in war time makes you feel proud of it. No swank, simply good old Nelson’s motto all the time.