From the terrace of the rear-admiral's house Tressidar watched the flashes of the hostile guns. The Germans had it practically their own way, for, however well protected Auldhaig Harbour was against aerial attack, the place was not armed with heavy gun batteries at all suitable for replying to the ten- and twelve-inch guns of the German cruisers.
Relying implicitly upon her steel-clad battleships and cruisers, Great Britain, neglecting the warning of Scarborough and Whitby, had omitted to provide adequate land defences except at a few of the principal naval ports.
And while enormous shells hurtled upon the town and harbour, Zeppelins, fearing little from the anti-aircraft guns, hovered overhead. Considering the fury of the almost unimpeded fire, the damage done was inconsiderable until a shell burst—at least, so it appeared to Tressidar—fairly on the buildings used as the naval sick-quarters. Long tongues of flame leapt skywards, the glare throwing the surrounding houses into strong relief as the fire quickly gained a strong hold.
Without a moment's hesitation the sub. took to his heels and ran in the direction of the burning building. Here, at least he could be of service. As he ran he thanked Providence that Doris Greenwood was not on duty; but there were other delicately nurtured women exposed to the fury of the hostile shells, as well as perhaps fifty "cot cases," where patients unable to help themselves were in peril of being burnt alive if they had survived the effect of the devastating shell.
Through the gate of the rear-admiral's grounds, where a great-coated seaman sentry with his rifle at the slope paced imperturbably to and fro, Tressidar ran. He could hear the thud of fragments of metal falling from an immense height. The air reeked with the acrid fumes of smokeless powder, mingled with the pungent smell of burning wood.
A shell, falling into soft ground less than thirty yards from the road, burst with an ear-splitting crash. The blast of the explosion hurled the sub. sideways, until he was brought up with his shoulder coming into violent contact with a wooden fence. Fortunately the principal direction of the detonation was directed skywards, and although fragments of the projectile hurtled past him, Tressidar escaped death or at least serious injury by a hairsbreadth.
The sick-quarters were situated on the outskirts of the town and within a hundred yards of the water's edge, whence a pier two hundred feet in length afforded landing facilities for the boats of the fleet.
As Tressidar drew nearer he discovered, to his great relief, that he had been mistaken as to the exact spot where the monster projectile had fallen. Still, the damage done was bad enough, for the shell had dropped in an outhouse close to the main block of buildings. The detached portion had been completely pulverised, while a considerable part of the roof of the hospital had been blown to fragments. Gaping holes were also visible in the walls, while a fierce fire was raging within the building.
It was evident that the ordinary staff was unable to cope with the work of clearing the wards of the patients. Nurses and sick-baymen were working heroically, their efforts assisted by members of the National Guard and a few townsfolk whose dread of the German shells was unable to overcome their energy in rescuing the patients from a terrible death.
Forcing his way through the choking smoke, the sub. toiled like a Trojan, lifting helpless men from beds that were already smouldering and carrying them out into the open air. Six times he plunged into the inferno. The floor-board creaked under his feet. Smoke eddied through the gaping seams. Plaster was continually falling through from the shattered and shaken ceilings, while above the roar of the flames could be heard the crash of hostile projectiles that were falling with terrible rapidity.