We were in action on Friday morning off Heligoland. I had a piece of shell as big as the palm of my hand go through my trousers, and as my trouser legs were blowing in the breeze I think I was very lucky.
A gunroom officer in a battle cruiser writes:
The particular ship we were engaged with was in a pitiful plight when we had finished with her—her funnels shot away, masts tottering, great gaps of daylight in her sides, smoke and flame belching from her everywhere. She speedily heeled over and sank like a stone, stern first. So far as is known, none of her crew was saved. She was game to the last, let it be said, her flag flying till she sank, her guns barking till they could bark no more.
Although we ourselves suffered no loss, we had some very narrow escapes. Three torpedoes were observed to pass us, one within a few feet. Four-inch shells, too, fell short or were ahead of us. The sea was alive with the enemy's submarines, which, however, did us no damage. They should not be underrated, these Germans. That cruiser did not think, apparently, of surrender.
What naval warfare seems like to the "black squad" imprisoned in the engineroom is described by an engineer of the Laurel, who went through the "scrap" off Heligoland. Writing to his wife he says:
It was a terribly anxious time for us, I can tell you, as we stayed down there keeping the engines going at their top speed in order to cut off the Germans from their fleet. We could hear the awful din around and the scampering of the tars on deck as they rushed about from point to point, and we knew what was to the fore when we caught odd glimpses of the stretcher bearers with their ghastly burdens.
We heard the shells crashing against the sides of the ship or shrieking overhead as they passed harmlessly into the water, and we knew that at any moment one might strike us in a vital part and send us below for good.
It is ten times harder on the men whose duty is in the engineroom than for those on deck taking part in the fighting, for they, at least, have the excitement of the fight, and if the ship is struck they have more than a sporting chance of escape. We have none.