“No. 3 gun, after gun, train on the starboard quarter, and when you see a submarine and periscope or conning tower, report.”
The gun crew reported control. “We see it—no, no—it has gone. There it is again.” I picked it up at that moment with my high-powered glass, and I gave them the range—1,000 yards. Scale 50. She was about 800 yards away from us. I gave the order, “No. 3 gun, fire, commence firing.”
I had my glasses on them, gentlemen, and I saw that periscope come up. “No. 3 gun, commence firing, fire, fire, fire.” And they did, and I picked that shell right up as it came out of the gun—a black, six-inch explosive shell. I saw it go through the air in its flight, and I saw it strike the water eight inches—a foot—in front of that periscope and it went into the conning tower. I saw that periscope go end over end, whipping through that water, and I saw plates go off his conning tower, and I saw smoke all over the scene where we had hit the enemy.
When Captain Rice was called upon for a speech he said:
“Gentlemen, I’d much rather take the Mongolia through the war zone than make a speech. All I will say is that I am ready to go again, and I hope I have another chance at a U-boat.”
HE KNEW WHAT TO DO
A short time back, while a certain general was inspecting a regiment just about to depart for new quarters, he asked a young subaltern what would be his next order if he was in command of a regiment passing over a plain in a hostile country, and he found his front blocked by artillery, a brigade of cavalry on his right flank, and a morass on his left, while his retreat was cut off by a large body of infantry.
“Halt! Order arms, ground arms, kneel down, say your prayers!” replied the subaltern.