It is like one of the mysterious powers of nature—unseen, but ever exercising a powerful influence. Its existence is always felt—felt by our foes with ever-increasing pressure, and felt by us with influences always beneficial.
It sleeps not and rests not. It is always "ready, aye ready." From Admiral Sir John Jellicoe to the grimiest stoker, it is one in purpose and in action. And because it is there, we sleep well in our beds at night, and there are few of us, as we lie down to rest, but breathe a prayer for those who seem never to rest—
"God bless our sons upon the sea."
We have always been proud of our fleet, but never so proud as to-day. It expresses the genius of our nation. Our way has always been "in great waters." We talk of ourselves as "safe circled by the silver sea," but the sea would not save us without our fleet.
When the war broke out, we found ourselves asking, "How will it be with us now?" With forty million mouths to feed and only six weeks' supply of food in the country, how will it be with us now?
Our fleet has solved that problem, and food has poured into the country in plenty and everyone has been fed. It has been in every sea, chasing our enemies off the ocean, protecting trade routes, convoying troop-ships, and at the same time bottling up our enemies in their harbours.
Never was such a herculean task undertaken and never so well performed. Battleships and cruisers, torpedo boats, and submarines, all in their turn have done their work, and done it well. They are waiting they tell us for "the day" of which the enemy boasted so much, and when the day dawns they will be there.
We realise that our fleet will be the deciding fact in this war. Our soldiers have done splendidly and will continue so to do, but without our ships they would be helpless, and if once we lose command of the sea, the glory of our country will pass away. But we have no doubts and no fears. They are there—and here—everywhere.
The nation's gratitude has been shown in many ways during the war. Busy hands have worked for it, and numberless prayers have risen to God's throne on its behalf. As an instance of what has been done, I quote the figures of "comforts" sent from one girls' school to one ship—the Ajax. The school is the Girls' Grammar School, Bury, whose headmistress is Miss J.P. Kitchener (a relative of Lord Kitchener). Wristlets, 137; mufflers, 118; body bands, 120; socks and stockings, 35; sea boot stockings, 16; mittens, 142; jersey, 1; books and magazines, 500. Of course all the articles, except the books, have been made by the girls. In addition to these they have sent 1673 articles to the soldiers. I wonder if this is a record for such an institution? This, however, is only a specimen of what has been done.
Somewhere with that mysterious fleet are a hundred and fifty chaplains. No Free Church chaplains are afloat. It would be difficult to carry more than one chaplain on a ship, and, of course, many of the ships of war carry no chaplain at all. Where there is no chaplain the commanding officer conducts the ship's service. Nonconformists at sea have to lose for the time the ministry of their several churches, but when in port landing parties redress this inequality. Some ships, especially those belonging to Devonport, have a strong Nonconformist element in their crews.