On the next day the whole fleet did big gun practice in the Channel. Down in the Fore T.S. the sound was considerably deadened, but the violent vibrations and the increase of air pressure following on each discharge had a most jarring and unpleasant effect on the ear-drums. The ships did not fire all together, but each in succession had a “run” of one hour. When we had finished our “run” all of us midshipmen and cadets went on deck to watch the firing of the flagship of our division, which was just ahead of us. Although the actual cordite charge is practically smokeless, the silk bag in which the sticks of explosive are encased gives off a dense light-brown smoke, which often hides the whole turret from view, and the flash of the explosion, even in daylight, causes a vivid glare almost like lightning. The gases do not burst into flame until they have passed some ten feet from the muzzle and come in contact with the oxygen in the atmosphere, when they flare up in a fraction of a second. Occasionally a gun will blow a huge smoke ring which, gyrating rapidly, ascends to a considerable height, gradually expanding until it is dispersed by the air. This phenomenon was very noticeable later on in the Dardanelles.
The following day we did fleet tactics (pronounced “Tattics”) off the Isle of Wight. These consist of manœuvres executed in columns. Each successive evolution is signalled by the flagship and is performed as soon as the whole fleet has repeated the signal and the flagship has hauled down the flags indicating the same. Throughout each operation the ships must keep within a specified number of cables’ lengths of each other.
That evening found us off Beachy Head, and having finished tactics we headed for Portland, proceeding in divisions in line ahead, columns disposed abeam to starboard. We dropped anchor in Portland the following day. Then the colliers came alongside and the whole fleet coaled.
As we had not yet done our second run of sub-calibre firing we left harbour next morning, and spent the day at sea for purposes of same. During our absence the whole personnel of the 2nd Fleet and the remaining division of our squadron went for a route march.
At 4 o’clock we returned to harbour, anchored, and took in coal until our bunkers were filled to 97 per cent. Next morning our division landed its ships’ companies for a route march at the Camber. The men fell in in marching kit under their respective officers, and according to the seniority of their ships in the Fleet. (Seniority of ships is determined by the seniority of their commanding officers.) When all were present, and had been duly reported to the officer in command, the band of the flagship led off with a lively march tune, closely followed by her ship’s company. Then the other ships’ companies followed in succession, and soon the whole 1500 men were proceeding along the white dusty road from Portland to Weymouth. Presently an order to “March at ease!” and “Carry on smoking!” was passed down the line, and the men produced their pipes, lit up, and were soon laughing, chattering, and singing as they marched, keeping, however, always in correct sections of four. On entering Weymouth the order “‘Shun! Out pipes!” was given, and the whole column swung along in absolute silence, broken only by an occasional order, and the tramp, tramp, tramp of the heavy marching boots on the dusty road.
We marched through the town to the pier, where we embarked on penny steamboats, commandeered for the purpose, which conveyed us back to the Fleet in Portland.
On the following day special steamers were run to Weymouth for the convenience of those who wished to go ashore; and, our leave-book having been signed, all of us junior officers who were not on duty forthwith donned our best clothes and embarked for the beach. On arrival the first thing we did was to storm the well-known establishment of Messrs. Gieve, Matthews, and Seagrove, Naval Outfitters (better known perhaps as just “Gieves’s”), and there order tin uniform cases, as already those silly kit-bags had proved most inadequate, as well as highly destructive to clothes. Not much chance of a swanky crease down your best trousers if you have to keep them in a kit-bag! You’ll get the creases all right—plenty of them, but they won’t be in the right place. The Navy is particular about these things, and does not allow slackness in detail even in war-time. It’s the same in the Army—our men’s anxiety to wash and shave whenever possible has been a source of some astonishment to our Allies; but somehow cleanliness and neatness seem to be an essential part of a Briton’s makeup—the outward and visible sign of a heart for any fate.
When we had finished our business at Gieves’s we went round the town; looked in at cinema shows, bought many small necessaries we needed, and devoured eggs, cakes, and cups of chocolate at various confectioners’. Leave was up at 8 o’clock and we reembarked on the steamer. Several of the seamen had imbibed more strong drink than they could carry, and three marines had a free fight on deck surrounded by sympathetic friends. One of the combatants on being “downed” violated Queensberry rules by kicking his opponents in the stomach, whereupon the victims of this outrage determined to throw him in the “ditch.” (“Ditch” or “pond” is naval slang for the sea.)
This resolution was heartily applauded by the audience, and would undoubtedly have been put into execution had not the steamer just at this juncture run alongside their ship. Still fighting they disappeared up the gangway. Five minutes later we drew alongside our own ship, and, having reported ourselves to the officer of the watch, we went down to dinner.