The submarine first concentrated her fire on the Nelson, which immediately slipped her trawl and went to action stations.  The third shot from the submarine pierced the trawler’s bows, and, having established the range, the submarine poured a well-directed fire into the Nelson, under which she rapidly began to settle down.

The seventh shot struck the skipper, Thomas Crisp, D.S.C., R.N.R., taking off both his legs and partly disembowelling him.

In spite of the terrible nature of his injuries he retained consciousness and gave instructions to the mate, who was his son, to send a message by carrier pigeon to the senior officer of his base reporting that he was engaged with the enemy; he then bade him fight to the last.

The Nelson, armed with one small gun, replied to the enemy’s fire until the heavy heel which she had assumed made it impossible to bring the gun to bear.  As she was then on the point of sinking the mate decided to abandon her and take to the boat, and begged his father to give them leave to carry him.  This, however, the old man sternly refused to do, and ordered his son to throw him overboard.

The nature of his wounds being such that he would have died if he had been moved, they deemed it best, after consultation, to leave him where he lay.  Accordingly, yielding to his reiterated order to abandon the ship, they left this most gallant seaman lying in his blood, and embarked in the boat as the Nelson sank.

The submarine in the meanwhile concentrated her fire on the Ethel and Millie, and having eventually sunk her, made the survivors of the crew prisoners, and steamed away.

The crew of the Nelson were rescued by a man-of-war after being in their boat for forty-four hours.

The second case occurred in the Adriatic.  On the night in question our drifter patrol in the Straits of Otranto was attacked by a force of Austrian light cruisers.  The drifters were each armed with a 3-pounder gun, and the light cruisers with 4-inch and 6-inch guns.  The drifters were, of course, quite unable to defend themselves.  Nevertheless the indomitable skipper, I. Watt, of the drifter Gowan Lea, when summoned to surrender by an Austrian light cruiser which was firing at his craft, shouted defiance, waved his hat to his men, and ordered them to open fire with the 3-pounder gun.  His orders were obeyed, and, surprising to relate, the light cruiser sheered off, and this fine seaman with his gallant ship’s company brought the Gowan Lea into port in safety.

Admiral Sir Reginald Bacon, in his most interesting narrative of the work of the Dover Patrol, has brought to light many individual instances of work gallantly performed; it is much to be hoped that before recollection fades, those who can speak of the actions of individuals in other areas will tell their countrymen something of the great deeds performed.