The Cressy appears to have seen the submarines in time to attempt to retaliate.  She fired a few shots before she keeled over, broken in two, and sank.  Whether she sank any submarines is not known.

The men of the Aboukir afloat in the water hoped for everything from the arrival of her sister cruisers, and all survivors agree that when these also sank many gave up the struggle for life and went down.  An officer told me that when swimming, after having lost his jacket in the grip of a drowning man, his chief thought was that the Germans had succeeded in sinking only three comparatively obsolete cruisers which shortly would have been scrapped anyway.

Twenty-four men were saved on a target which floated off the Hogue’s deck.  The men were gathered on it for four hours waist deep in water.

The rescued officers unite in praising the skill and daring of the German naval officers, and, far from bearing any grudge, they have nothing but professional praise for the submarines’ feat.

“Our only grievance,” one said, “is that we did not have a shot at the Germans.  Our only share in the war has been a few uncomfortable weeks of bad weather, mines, and submarines.”

When I entered the billiard room of the hotel here sheltering survivors and asked if any British officers were there, several unshaven men in the khaki working kit of the Dutch Army or in fishermen’s jerseys got up from their chairs.  Most of them had been saved in their pajamas, and they had to accept the first things in the way of clothing offered by the kindly Dutch.  One Lieutenant apologized for closing the window, as he had only a thin jacket over his pajamas.  He gladly accepted the loan of my overcoat while making a list of his men who had been saved.

While the survivors are technically prisoners in this neutral country, to be interned until the end of the war, Muiden steadfastly refuses to regard them as other than honored guests.  The soldiers posted before every building where officers or men are sheltered seem to be guards of honor rather than prison warders, and every one in the place is competing for the honor of lending clothes, running errands, or offering cigars for the survivors.

When the Dutch steamer Flora arrived with survivors last night, flying her flag at half-mast and signaling for a doctor, the Red Cross authorities and the British Vice Consul, Mr. Rigorsberg, at once set the machinery in motion, and soon the officers were settled in hotels and the men were divided among a hospital, a church, and a young men’s institute.

I saw one bluejacket asleep covered with a white ensign.  He had snatched it up before diving overboard.  He held it in his teeth while in the water and refused to part with it when rescued.  He is now prepared to fight any one who may attempt to steal this last relic of his ship.

One survivor says that an English fishing boat also was sunk by the submarines, but the story is not confirmed.