By lunch-time the gun-room was ready for us, and, that meal over, we “fell in” on the quarter-deck and the Commander appointed us to our several duties. Carey and Baker having already received their appointments from the Captain as afore-mentioned, Jones, the next senior, was now told off to the Torpedo Lieutenant as his messenger. Browne became the Gunnery Lieutenant’s A.D.C., and McAlister the Commander’s “doggie.” Wenton was “Tanky,” i.e. the navigator’s assistant, and Barton, Fane, Cunninghame, and myself were appointed watch-keepers.
As we were not expected to take up our duties until the following morning, we spent the rest of that afternoon watching the cutting away of such portions of the forebridge as were not absolutely indispensable for purposes of navigation, the removal of the forward searchlights to the shelter deck, and the pitching—literally pitching—of the ward-room and gun-room furniture into lighters alongside. This, I may mention, was performed without the slightest consideration for damage to the articles in question, for time pressed and every minute was of greater value than much fine furniture! It was War.
On the next morning (Thursday) we entered upon our respective duties, and I took my first “dog-watch.”
In the forenoon the Gunnery Lieutenant had us all assembled in the gun-room and informed us that we should all be in the fore transmitting station (hereafter called the Fore T.S.) for action; that is, all except Carey, who would be in attendance on the Captain. Then he told us our different jobs and showed us how to work the various instruments for controlling the guns, after which he showed us the way down to the Fore T.S., and, having placed us in position before our instruments, gave us a trial run of ranges, deflections, and the various controls under which the guns could be operated in the event of the primary control position being shot away or the communications cut.
Then came lunch, followed by another two hours’ practice in the Fore T.S., and after tea more of the same instruction.
At 5 a.m. on Friday we got under way to proceed into dry dock. At about ten yards from the mouth of the dock both engines were stopped, and our first and second cutters lowered. The ends of wire hawsers were then conveyed by the cutters from capstans, dotted at intervals round the dock, to the ship, where they were made fast inboard. These capstans had already been manned by parties of seamen attached to the dockyard, who were commanded by warrant officers. They stood by to back up the wire as soon as we gave the signal for the capstans to heave round, and in this manner the great ship was hauled into the dry dock. This seemed a ticklish business to the uninitiated, it being essential to get the ship exactly central in the dock, but the Captain controlled operations by signalling from the forebridge, and in due time it was accomplished. The ship floated motionless in the centre, the great caisson was hauled into place, sunk and locked, and the powerful centrifugal pumps began to drain the water away.
After these two hours of hard work we went to breakfast with hearty appetites.
On looking out of a scuttle a little later I saw that the water had already dropped some six feet and the ship was resting on the bottom with about four feet of her sides visible below the usual water-line. As she had been lying up in Milford Haven for a year before the outbreak of war, she was in a filthy state, and her sides were thickly coated with that long ribbon-like seaweed often seen thrown up in masses on the shore after a storm. Already the dockyard men were placing large pieces of timber between the ship’s sides and the sides of the dock, wedging them tightly so that she would remain upright when all the water had been pumped out.
At 9 o’clock we had to go to “divisions.” Each of the watch-keepers had a division, and the messengers accompanied their officers on the rounds of their different departments. “Divisions” over, a lecture on first-aid was given by the Fleet-surgeon and occupied us until lunch-time.