The warship was there. We were there, and one could imagine
the tiny periscope just above the water. The situation was tense, even
if the vessel to be fired at was not an enemy craft.

"Fire!" snapped the captain.

It was no order for men to spring "over the top," no battle-cry that was
heard by the enemy, but the word under the water that is the order for
the deadly destroyer to be released and speed on its way to the
unsuspecting craft. Practice torpedo or not, when under the waves of the
North Sea the word works up a dramatic situation hard to equal. The
other officers and men are interested, and they told me that never does
the word "Fire" fail to stir the soul of everybody aboard. Though the
effect is heightened by the knowledge that a great vessel is the target
and has been bored in twain, the interest is still thrilling when the
submarine is practising. With a shot at the enemy there is, of course,
the explosion to dread. If the submarine does not get away far enough,
the explosion of the torpedo may be the cause of extinguishing all
lights aboard the submarine, and lamps have then to be used.

There was a tiger-like growl or "g-r-rh" of anger as the tube sent out
the greased steel complicated missile, and outside I pictured the white
wake that streaked in the direction of the warship. It was not visible
from the periscope, which a second after the signal to fire had been
brought down under the surface. The comparative stillness was gone, and
the inside of the submarine seemed to have awakened from a doze. There
was all bustle and hurry around me. The captain shot a look at the
gyroscopic compass and gave orders for the motors to go ahead, and for
half an hour the submarine pushed about under the surface. Then the
commander had the periscope raised, and on the distant horizon I made
out the destroyer--a tiny thing even in the glass of the magnifying lens
of the under-sea boat's "eye."

My feet were numbed with cold as I walked for'd and looked at the empty
tube. These torpedoes cost L500 (two thousand, five hundred dollars),
and in war time they are all set to sink if they fail to hit the target;
set to sink because they might be used by the enemy or get in our own
way.

The next thrilling moment came when the commander decided to bring his
craft to the surface.

"Come to surface and blow external tanks!" ordered the two-striper.
"Open five, six, seven, eight, to blow!"

The round, white perforated lungs