Heathcote Maurice, Royal Navy

I expect everyone is most curious about last week’s “scrap.” It was a fine show. Unhappily there are so many pessimists ashore that by the tone of the papers we lost. Don’t believe it. We won in both number of ships lost and relative value to sea power. It is obvious to anyone who knows anything about it, that it is far easier to estimate one’s own losses than the enemies’. One never knows how badly his ships were and a lot might sink on the flight back. I’ve underlined “flight,” as I have never seen anything more literal in my life. We personally went into action, and did good slaughter; they didn’t hit us but landed some shots short and some over the ship. I had a splendid view of the whole thing, and their shooting was rotten. We could only see five miles, so they fled in the mist, but not before they got it hot. Saw jolly old Zepp and drove him off with a flea in his ear. Also drove off a torpedo boat destroyer attack with great success. I see by this morning’s list we lost 300 officers odd. I had tons of pals among them too worse luck. Dixon Wright, the Padre who was at Dartmouth with me, was killed. It’s bad loosing those battle cruisers, but it took the whole enemy’s fleet to keep them waiting for us, and when we came they got away in the fog. But they lost heavily in ships and men. It was the sight of a life-time, and we wait again. More details I’m not allowed to give you, but after the war I can.