A sailor who was saved tells the following story:—
"The best thing I saw was the coolness of a little cadet. Not more than fourteen he looked. He drifted near me; he and a seaman clinging with their hands and elbows to the same bit of wood. I never saw anything as calm as that lad. He was talking to the seaman with him. 'Well,' he says, 'we've got to carry on like this, and if we die we shall die game.' And with that he begins to talk about everyday things on the sunken ship. 'What's the new engineer like?' he says, and chats about the little incidents in the mess. Only fourteen—a little light-haired boy. I hope he was saved."
So do we all. If he was rescued, we all hope that in days to come he will command one of the King's ships, and play his part as nobly as he did when floating on the sea, face to face with death.
There were about sixteen midshipmen on board the three ships. Some of them were cadets at Osborne or Devonport when the war began. All the older boys were hurried off to the sea, and were proud and happy to go. Some of them have kept the "Watch on the Brine" all through the long and bitter winter; others have helped to patrol distant seas and capture enemy ships; some have fought a good fight in the naval battles; all have done their duty, and many have died for their country.
There was a very lucky middy on board the Aboukir when she went down. One of the survivors asks: "What do you think of this regarding one of our brave midshipmen? He was on board the first ship which was struck, and as she was settling down he jumped overboard and swam clear of the swirling water caused by the sinking vessel. He was picked up by another of the cruisers; but she also was struck, and in her turn began to sink. The midshipman was uninjured by the explosion, and again he jumped and cleared the downward suction. He was picked up and put on board the third cruiser; but before long she, too, received her death wound. Again he got clear, and clung to a piece of wreckage, from which he was finally rescued."
A ship's carpenter on board the Aboukir had a similar experience. He was on board all the three cruisers when they were torpedoed. When the Cressy went down he swam to a raft, which towed him along for some distance, until a ship's boat picked him up.
A middy of the Cressy, a lad of sixteen, named Cazalet, commanded a whaler which was engaged in the work of rescue. He was actually the means of saving some eighty-eight lives. Altogether he picked up three boatloads of men, and not until there were no more survivors in sight did he seek refuge on board a Dutch trawler.