We stayed below as long as we possibly could, and eventually returned to our "action" stations about five o'clock.
Encountering the Yeoman of Signals just outside the conning-tower, I asked for the latest news, but nothing fresh had been received.
Half an hour later we sighted a sailing ship right ahead. She seemed to draw near with uncanny speed, and when we were able to make out her colours she proved to be Norwegian. It was when she was nearly abreast of us that we first heard the dull far-away boom of guns. The sound rapidly increased in volume and intensity, but as yet nothing could be seen of the action taking place just beyond the horizon, and the sailing ship gliding quietly along, her canvas, spread to the summer breeze, and the wide expanse of still blue water together formed a picture so emblematic of all the peaceful, everyday things of seafaring life that it seemed almost impossible to realize that within so short a time we should be in the thick of the greatest naval battle the world had ever known.
But scarcely had the Norwegian passed astern when the yellowish haze on our starboard bow was broken by lurid red flashes, while here and there the sun glinted momentarily on the pale grey hulls of the battle cruisers which loomed up like great ghosts in the midst of the cordite smoke.
Now our light cruisers and destroyers dashed ahead belching forth clouds of black smoke, the water churning and foaming in their wake. The battle cruisers, by this time a bare half-mile away, the bow waves raised by their swift passage creaming to their fo'c'sles, were firing rapidly with all guns. From the deck of their Flagship, just abreast her foremost turrets, a thin wisp of blue smoke and little flickers of greenish flame showed where an enemy shell had found its mark. Under her 'midship funnel a gaping rent was torn in her side, revealing a mass of twisted metal where another projectile had burst. One gun of her 'midship turret, thrown out of action, drooped towards the deck licked by hungry tongues of flame—but her remaining armament was still firing doggedly.
Away to starboard the enemy's guns flashed continuously through the battle haze. Our light craft swung 8 points to port, heeling right over under pressure of the helm. Close beside us a small cruiser of the —— class lay hove to and awaiting a chance to dash through the lines. She was so close that we could see her crew standing laughing and joking round their guns—plainly exulting in the longed-for chance of action.
A moment later the enemy opened on our destroyers, their shells flinging columns of white spray high in the air—but, as yet, our ships held their fire.
Now the Flagship hoisted the signal:
"Remember the glorious First of June and avenge Belgium."
This was passed down to all quarters with the added message from our Captain: