The chaplain of the Inflexible was bound to have an anecdote. I don’t know why, except that a chaplain’s is not a fighting part and he may look on. His place was down behind the armour with the doctor, waiting for wounded. He stood in his particular steel cave listening to the tremendous blasts of her guns which shook the Inflexible’s frame, and still no wounded arrived. Then he ran up a ladder to the deck and had a look around and saw the little points of the German ships with the shells sweeping toward them and the smoke of explosions which burst on board them. It was not the British who needed his prayers that day, but the Germans.
Perhaps the spirit of the Inflexible’s story was best given by a midshipman with the down still on his cheek. Considering how young the British take their officer-beginners to sea, the admirals are not young, at least, in point of sea service. He got more out of the action than his elders; his impressions of the long cruises and the actions had the vividness of boyhood. Down in one of the caves, doing his part as the shells were sent up to feed the thundering guns above, the whispered news of the progress of the battle was passed on at intervals till, finally, the guns were silent. Then he hurried on deck in the elation of victory, succeeded by the desire to save those whom they had fought. It had all been so simple; so like drill. You had only to go on shooting—that was all.
Yes, he had been lucky. From the Falklands to the Dardanelles, which was a more picturesque business than the battle. Any minute off the Straits you did not know but a submarine would have a try at you or you might bump into a mine. And the Inflexible did bump into one. She had two thousand tons of water on board. It was fast work to keep the remainder of the sea from coming in, too, and the same kind of dramatic experience as the Lion’s in reaching port. Yes, he had been very lucky. It was all a lark to that boy.
“It never occurs to midshipmen to be afraid of anything,” said one of the officers. “The more danger, the better they like it.”
In the wardroom was a piece of the mine or the torpedo, whichever it was, that struck the Inflexible; a strange, twisted, annealed bit of metal. Every ship which had been in action had some souvenir which the enemy had sent on board in anger and which was preserved with a collector’s enthusiasm.
The Inflexible seemed as good as ever she was. Such is the way of naval warfare. Either it is to the bottom of the sea or to dry docks and repairs. There is nothing half way. So it is well to take care that you have “the range of them.”
XXX
ON THE FLEET FLAGSHIP
The “grande dames” of the fleet—The boarding—Nelson’s heritage—Guardians of the peace of the seas—Sir John Jellicoe—The China seas incident—The compliment returned at Manila Bay—Friends in the service—That command of Joshua’s—Waiting and watching—England’s true genius—A complete blockade—Intricate and concentrated mechanism—Personality of Sir John—The spirit of service.