Letter 38 From a Seaman on Board the Flagship of the First Destroyer Squadron, to His Friends at Wimbledon
We had a very decent splash last week off Heligoland, as doubtless you have read. Our ship was not hit at all, though some shots were pretty near. It was a fine sight to see the Lion demolish one cruiser. We could see her (the cruiser’s) shots falling short, but still the Lion did not fire. For fully ten minutes the cruiser belted away without getting a hit. Then the Lion, who was leading the line, hoisted “open fire,” turned slowly and majestically round and fired her broadside—once. It was quite sufficient. Up went a cloud of smoke and steam from the target, and when it cleared her aft funnel was at a rakish angle, and a huge rent appeared the length of her side.
After a few more “salvoes” she was rapidly sinking by the stern. Shortly afterwards she half-hauled down her ensign, and as we were steaming up to stand by and rescue her survivors, she hoisted it again and opened fire. It was a dirty trick, but they got their deserts. Once again the Lion turned, and this time fired but five shots from her huge turrets. Amidst a shower of splinters, smoke, and fire she disappeared. We steamed over the spot, but although there was plenty of wreckage, not a single living thing was to be seen. This incident only lasted about forty-five minutes, although the whole battle was raging for eight hours.