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[Illustration: "We hit her aft for the second time."]
I have discovered that Von Weissman is a martyr to sea-sickness--all
day he has been lying down as white as a sheet and subsisting on milk
tablets and sips of brandy; yet such is the man's inflexibility of will
that he forces himself to make a tour of inspection right round the
boat every six hours, night and day. It is this will to conquer which
has made Germans unconquerable, though "Come the four corners of the
world in arms" against us, as the great poet says.
We are, of course, keeping watch from inside the conning tower; it is,
at all events, dry, but as to seeing anything one might as well be
looking out through a small glass window from inside a breakwater! To
bed till 4 a.m.
* * * * *
A most unprofitable day. I grudge every day away from Zoe on which we
do nothing. This morning about noon the gale blew itself out, but a
heavy confused sea continued to run.
At 2 p.m. we saw a most tantalizing spectacle. A big tank steamer,
fully 600 feet long and of probably 17,000 tons burthen hove in sight,
escorted by two destroyers. To attack with the gun was impossible, as
we could only keep the conning tower open when stern to sea, and in any
case the two destroyers prevented any surface work. We tried to get in
for an attack, but we had not seen her in time, and the best we could
do was to get within 3,000 yards, at which range it would have been
absurd to have wasted a torpedo, the chances of hitting being 100 to 1
against, even if the torpedo had run properly in the sea that was on.
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