ercentage of them have seen men drown. They can realise what it
is when women go down choking in horrible tangles and heavings of
draperies. To say that the enemy has cut himself from the fellowship
of all who use the seas is rather understating the case. As a man
observed thoughtfully: "You can't look at any water now without seeing
'Lusitania' sprawlin' all across it. And just think of those words,
'North-German Lloyd,' 'Hamburg-Amerika' and such things, in the time
to come. They simply mustn't be."

He was an elderly trawler, respectable as they make them, who, after
many years of fishing, had discovered his real vocation. "I never
thought I'd like killin' men," he reflected. "Never seemed to be any
o' my dooty. But it is--and I do!"

A great deal of the East Coast work concerns mine-fields--ours and the
enemy's--both of which shift as occasion requires. We search for and
root out the enemy's mines; they do the like by us. It is a perpetual
game of finding, springing, and laying traps on the least as well as
the most likely runaways that ships use--such sea snaring and wiring
as the world never dreamt of. We are hampered in this, because our
Navy respects neutrals; and spends a great deal of its time in making
their path safe for them. The enemy does not. He blows them up,
because that cows and impresses them, and so adds to his prestige.

DEATH AND THE DESTROYER

The easiest way of finding a mine-field is to steam into it, on the
edge of night for choice, with a steep sea running, for that brings
the bows down like a chopper on the detonator-horns. Some boats have
enjoyed this experience and still live. There was one destroyer (and
there may have been others since) who came through twenty-four hours
of highly-compressed life. She had an idea that there was a
mine-field somewhere about, and left her companions behind while she
explored. The weather was dead calm, and she walked delicately. She
saw one Scandinavian steamer blow up a couple of miles away, rescued
the skipper and some hands; saw another neutral, which she could not
reach till all was over, skied in another direction; and, between her
life-saving efforts and her natural curiosity, got herself as
thoroughly mixed up with the field as a camel among tent-ropes. A
destroyer's bows are very fine, and her sides are very straight. This
causes her to cleave the wave with the minimum of disturbance, and
this boat had no desire to cleave anything else. None