ing
of the enemy's coasts, keeping the Grand Fleet informed of the enemy's
movements, the perpetual harassing of the enemy, the hunting down of
his submarines and mine-layers, the enticing out of his heavy ships
to fall into our traps, the convoying of merchantmen, and so forth.
The work was extremely important and highly dangerous. Throughout the
war there was always some portion of the Harwich Force upon the seas,
and always a portion of it in harbour under steam, ready to rush out
at a moment's notice should the wireless waves give notice of
something doing on the North Sea. On one occasion practically the
entire Harwich Force got out of harbour within twenty minutes of a
call for its assistance. Even when there was no urgency, no longer
than three hours' notice was ever given.

A force so actively engaged as was this one could not fail to suffer
many casualties--in all probability heavier casualties in proportion
to its numbers than any other naval force. Admiral Lord Jellicoe, on
one occasion, in a message of greeting to the force, said: "Your
casualties alone in this war show what your work has been," or words
to that effect. What the total casualties of the force were I do not
know; but the narratives that have been communicated to me account for
the total loss of over twelve of the destroyers, while the number of
others seriously damaged by shell, mines, and torpedoes is still
larger.

Harwich, possibly, was nearer to the war and its tragedies than any
other port in England. For often, by day or in the quiet night, would
be heard the weird signal of the sirens that summoned officers and men
on leave on shore to hurry back to their ships, as something was
happening on the North Sea that called for the Harwich Force, or a
portion of it, to put to sea at once. This recall signal, say those
who heard it in Harwich, had a most impressive effect. Taking the time
from the flagship, each cruiser in the harbour sounded both her sirens
three times, each blast being of three minutes' duration.

There is an hotel overlooking the water at Dovercourt--one of the few
that had not been requisitioned by the authorities--that was a
well-known rendezvous of officers during the war. Situated about half
way between Harwich pier and Parkeston quay--whither men had to go to
join their ships--and about a quarter of an hour's walk from either
place, it was recognised as being a convenient place of call for naval
officers who were on