At 8.40 a violent explosion was felt by the British Fleet. This was probably caused by the destruction of a big ship.
Beatty steamed S.W. till 9.24, when having seen nothing more of the enemy, he assumed that the Germans were to the N.W., and proceeded N.N.E. to the British Battle Fleet. He says: “In view of the gathering darkness, and the fact that our strategical position was such as to make it appear certain that we should locate the enemy at daylight under most favourable circumstances, I did not consider it proper or desirable to close the enemy battle fleet during the dark hours.”
[Illustration: STORMING THE VILLAGE OF LOOS: HAND-TO-HAND FIGHTING IN THE STREETS.
_Reproduced by permission of “The Sphere.”_]
A vivid account of an incident at Loos, which has become historic, was given by one of the London Irish Regiment who was wounded during the charge:--
“One set of our men--keen footballers--made a strange resolution; it was to take a football along with them. The platoon officer discovered this, and ordered the football to be sent back--which, of course, was carried out. But the old members of the London Irish Football Club were not to be done out of the greatest game of their lives-the last to some of them, poor fellows--and just before Major Beresford gave the signal the leather turned up again mysteriously.
“Suddenly the officer in command gave the signal, ‘Over you go, lads!’ With that the whole line sprang up as one man, some with a prayer, not a few making the sign of the Cross. But the footballers, they chucked the ball over and went after it just as cool as if on the field, passing it from one to the other, though the bullets were flying thick as hail, crying, ‘On the ball, London Irish!’ just as they might have done at Forest Hill. I believe that they actually kicked it right into the enemy’s trench with the cry, ‘Goal!’ though not before some of them had been picked off on the way.
“There wasn’t 400 yards between the trenches, and we had to get across the open--a manœuvre we started just as on parade. All lined up, bayonets fixed, rifles at the slope. Once our fellows got going it was hard to get them to stop, with the result that some rushed clean into one of our own gas waves and dropped in it just before it had time to get over the enemy’s trench.