The only damage affecting her fighting efficiency which our ship sustained in the Battle of Jutland was the damage to her boat booms. This was repaired within the week, and, had the necessity arisen, we could have again gone into action seven days after our return to the northern base. But the Huns were far too busy licking their wounds to trouble us further at this time. Gradually and grudgingly they were forced to admit the great losses which they had at first so strenuously denied and ignored. It was a dilatory and undignified performance, by no means redeemed by the "military reasons" (!) which they adduced in excuse, and it certainly did not tend to increase their prestige in the eyes of the watchful neutral nations. There being, therefore, no immediate need for our services, we remained in harbour enduring with what grace we could command the nerve-racking clamour set up by the dockyard mateys as they meticulously made good all our minor damages.

On the afternoon which saw their work complete down to the last bolt and rivet, we received the usual signals preparatory to going to sea, and some time in the first dog watch proceeded out of harbour.

The following day dawned calm and fine, the visibility remaining good throughout the day. At 9 A.M. we went to "Divisions" on the upper deck, and were just about to march forward to the quarter-deck for prayers when H.M.S. —— on our port beam opened fire with her secondary armament on a Zeppelin which had suddenly appeared from behind a small cloud. The shells did not take effect, but the Zepp turned tail and fled at top speed.

Immediately after prayers we went to "Control Parties" for an hour in order to be ready in case any more airships materialized. However, nothing occurred and at about 10.30 the "Secure" was sounded. I went on the bridge at 11 o'clock, as it was my submarine lookout watch, and there heard that the light cruiser ——, operating some miles ahead of the Fleet, had hit a Zeppelin which had subsequently disappeared over the horizon, badly down by the nose, and apparently about to descend to the water. We were told to keep a sharp lookout, but no sign of her was seen.

After lunch "General Quarters" was sounded off and every one went to their "action" stations.

Commodore "T." had reported some time before that he was in touch with the enemy's heavy forces.

The battle cruisers were now just in sight on the horizon on our starboard bow, and we rejoiced to think that this time they would not be able, as at Jutland, to keep nearly all the fun to themselves. We all strained our eyes ahead for the first glimpse of the "Hoch See Flotte," but the minutes flew by and at 2.30 there was yet no sign of them. Then a second communication was received from Commodore "T." saying that the enemy was flying at full speed towards Heligoland, and at 3 P.M., as we were getting among the Hun mine-fields, we had to reluctantly abandon the chase and turn for home.

Rumours of that "leave" to which we were all so eagerly looking forward had been flying about since the beginning of August, but it was not until September 10 that the Flagship hoisted the signal for us to raise steam. We weighed at 6.30 P.M. and steamed out to sea, and the next morning at 8.30 we dropped anchor in ——. Getting under way again at noon we proceeded into dock, and as soon as the caisson had been floated into place and sunk, we were free to go on "leave."

I caught the 3.30 dockyard train to Edinburgh, and on arrival there fell in with the Captain of Marines, the dentist, and one of the R.N.R.A.P.'s, and had dinner with them at the North British Hotel; after which I embarked on the 10.30 train for London, where I arrived at 8 o'clock the next morning.

On Thursday, September 21, leave was up, and in company with most of our officers I travelled that night to Edinburgh, arriving in that town at 7.30 the next morning.

We changed into the special train for ——, where our ship was in dock, and arrived there at 10 A.M. We had considerable trouble with our luggage as no vehicles were available, and we had to lug our traps along as best we could until we met a cart proceeding in the required direction, the driver of which—for a financial consideration—consented to relieve us of our burdens.

On reaching the ship we found our quarters still absolutely uninhabitable. Dockyard hands were working all over the place, and all gangways and flats were encumbered with a mad medley of iron plates, stray fittings, and the usual collection of filth which a ship always manages to accumulate in the course of a refit. After wandering forlornly about for an hour with nowhere to go and nothing to do, we got leave from the Commander to quit the ship until 9 A.M. the following morning. Campbell and I promptly made tracks for the dockyard gates, where we had the luck to pick up a taxi, which drove us to the nearest station, and we returned to Edinburgh. On arrival Campbell telephoned to some of his relations who lived in Ayrshire, and hearing that they were at home, departed thither by the 1 P.M. train. About half an hour later the rest of the gunroom mess turned up with the information that "leave" was granted until the morning of Monday, the 25th.

This intelligence I wired to Campbell, and then repaired to lunch at the North British Hotel. After lunch, finding that I had run out of cash, I bethought me of Messrs. Gieves, naval outfitters, and ever-ready friend in need to the stranded N.O., and repairing to their Edinburgh establishment explained my dilemma, and requested them to cash a cheque for me. This, with their unvarying courtesy, they promptly did, and with a financial crisis thus happily averted, I returned to the hotel for tea.

I was awfully bored at the thought that I actually had two days of precious leave on my hands and nowhere decent to spend it, and I was wondering if in spite of the expense it might not be worth while to go south again, when I got a wire from Campbell asking me to join him in Ayrshire, which invite I joyfully accepted. But as there was no train that night I had to defer my departure until the next morning.

Campbell's relatives proved most kind and hospitable, and after spending a very pleasant week-end I returned with him to the ship on the morning of the 25th.

We had hardly arrived before the Captain, who was always great on sport and exercise, ordered us all to go out hunting with some local basset hounds. This order was received with a regrettable lack of enthusiasm. Still, an order is an order, and so at 12.30 I started out with two of the others. Unfortunately we had omitted to ascertain the whereabouts of the meet, and when, after walking several miles and making many fruitless inquiries, we eventually discovered the kennels, it was only to find that hounds had gone and no one could tell us their destination. Disconsolately we wandered about for hours, but never a sign of the hunt did we see.

At 4 P.M. we spotted three of our Snotties in a motor-bus returning from their equally unsuccessful search, and so we joined them and went back to the ship. The only three of our mess who succeeded in finding hounds turned up very cross, footsore, and weary at about 8 P.M., and accused us—most unwarrantably—of shirking!

By 9 A.M. next morning we were out of dock, and coaling started at 11.30 and finished at 2 P.M.—not a very good average. After coaling we found the bathroom in a disgusting state—no lights, no water, no steam. Eventually we managed to procure a mere dribble of cold water with which we had to remove the coal-dust from our persons as best we could.

After "General Quarters" next morning a hideous rumour arose that we should be required to go basseting again that afternoon, but mercifully other affairs intervened, and furthermore it began to rain, so to our great relief basseting was declared off.

Most of the gunroom mess went to Edinburgh again, but I stayed on board and spent a quiet hour or so writing letters.