Two torpedoes in quick succession now sped towards the _Hogue_, and five minutes later she had gone under, and the sea was dotted with men swimming for dear life or clinging desperately to bits of wreckage. Soon afterwards there was another explosion, and the _Cressy_ suffered the same fate. Three torpedoes had been fired at her, and two of them had hit her. Two Dutch trawlers now came to the rescue, and their crews worked like Trojans to save the lives of our men. British destroyers also arrived, and took part in the work of rescue; but the loss of life was very great. About 60 officers and 1,400 men were killed or drowned. The ships themselves were no great loss, but the 1,460 brave and highly-trained men who went down on that fateful day can never be replaced. "The conduct of the crew," says the commander of the _Cressy_, "was excellent throughout." "There was no panic of any sort," wrote the commander of the _Hogue_, "the men taking off their clothes as ordered, and falling in with hammock or wood. . . . All the men behaved extraordinarily well, obeying orders even when in the water and swimming for their lives. I witnessed many cases of great self-sacrifice and gallantry. Farmstone, able seaman, of the _Hogue_, jumped overboard from the launch to make room for others, and would not avail himself of assistance until all men near by were picked up; he was in the water about half an hour."
[Illustration: The sinking of the Aboukir, Hogue, and Cressy.
This illustration shows the Cressy making a gallant attempt to ram the submarine.]
The Admiralty afterwards sent a message to the Fleet, pointing out that though this heavy loss of life was due to the natural desire of our sailors to save their fellows in distress, it ought to have been avoided, and would probably not have taken place if the _Hogue_ and the _Cressy_ had kept on their courses, and left the work of succour to small craft. The stoppage of these vessels was no doubt a mistake, but I think that we shall all be ready to forgive those who made it when we remember that they laid down their lives while trying to save their comrades from a watery grave.
A sailor who was saved tells the following story:--
"The best thing I saw was the coolness of a little cadet. Not more than fourteen he looked. He drifted near me; he and a seaman clinging with their hands and elbows to the same bit of wood. I never saw anything as calm as that lad. He was talking to the seaman with him. 'Well,' he says, 'we've got to carry on like this, and if we die we shall die game.' And with that he begins to talk about everyday things on the sunken ship. 'What's the new engineer like?' he says, and chats about the little incidents in the mess. Only fourteen--a little light-haired boy. I hope he was saved."