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[Page 55]

that very morning when the periscope of this same submarine had arisen within three houndred yards of us. The Admiral had come on deck with the other officers and all stood in a silent group behind their chief gazing at the stricken battleship some four miles away. The scene ressembled Orchardson's picture of the Last Sight of France of Napoleon and his comrades on board the Bellephron. The Triumph was listing more and more over. She seemed to be struggling against some horrid Invisible monster which was dragging her slowly over. Elsewhere the scene remained the same. Our guns were bombarding the Turkish positions and their's were leisurely responding.
Off Gaba Tepe you could see the other warships keeping their customary stations whilst all around us at the enterance of the Straits lay our transports and warships and those of the French. The thought involuntarily occured 'Whose turn will come next' For seven minutes the group on the deck of the Swiftsure watched the dying struggle of the Triumph in absolute silence. Then suddenly she seemed to grow weary of the hopelesss fight against these invisible forces and exactly eight minutes after being struck she gave a final roll and turned upside down her red bottom alone remaining visible. For half an hour we watched her floating bottom upards and then suddenly she gave a final plunge and disappeared forever beneath the waves amidst boiling surf and clouds of steam. 'The Triumph has gone' remarked the Admiral slowly shutting up his telescope and turning on his heel to return to his quarters. The group of the quarterdeck immediately dispersed each to his own reflections on this tragic event

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