Being somewhat anxious as to the state of things between decks I took the opportunity of a hurried visit below. On my way down from the bridge I met Lieutenant E. Hilton-Young, R.N.V.R., our parliamentary representative. He was attired in his shirtsleeves and minus any head-gear. His right arm was bandaged. I remember that he was breaking all the accepted rules of the drill-book by smoking a large cigar as he performed his prearranged duties of supervising the foremost six-inch guns and his self-appointed duty of cheering everybody up. On enquiry he informed me that he had "got one in the arm." I heard afterwards that even when he had collapsed, he refused to, have his wound attended to, and had to be taken below by force. Eventually his right arm had to be amputated, but with his unfailing resource he did not let many hours pass by before commencing to educate himself in the art of left-handed writing.
[Illustration: H.M.S. VINDICTIVE'S BRIDGE AND FLAME-THROWER HUT (RIGHT). The fighting top is shown above, and from behind, the bridge. The conning tower is below the bridge. A large shell passed through the hole to the right of the man in white uniform.]
Every available space on the mess deck was occupied by casualties. Those who could do so were sitting on the mess stools awaiting their turn for medical { 197} attention. Many were stretched at full length on the deck, the majority being severely wounded. Some had already collapsed and were in a state of coma; I fear that many had already passed away. It was a sad spectacle indeed. Somehow, amidst all the crashing and smashing on deck, one had not realised the sacrifice that was taking place.
During a fight at sea the personnel below know little or nothing of how things are going. This especially applies to the stokehold and engine-room personnel, who are, indeed, in an unenviable position. It applies, also, to the wounded who have been carried below. It is not difficult to imagine their feelings, especially when one considers how rapidly a vessel may sink after sustaining a vital injury. One does not need to be an advanced psychologist to understand the importance of keeping those stationed between decks supplied with information as to what is occurring on deck. So I shouted out something about everything going splendidly, the Mole being stormed, the viaduct being blown up and the blockships having passed in. The cheer that went up will live long in my memory. Those who could stand crowded round and forgot their wounds. Some of those on the deck endeavoured to sit up to ascertain the news. I did not then know that I had been reported as killed. The crowd almost barred my way in their excitement, and the question which caught my ear more than any other was, "Have we won, sir? Have we won?" just as if the whole affair had been a football match.