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Some are writing letters to chums, to sweethearts, and to wives.
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In one corner is a midshipman writing up his "log", and beside him sits the lieutenant in charge of the turret reading for the fourth time a much-folded letter he has taken from an inner pocket.
Look into the next turret and you will see a similar scene, the only difference being that in this case the guns' crews and their officer are marines, wearing red-striped trousers and "Brodrick" caps—the latter not unlike those of the seamen, but with the corps badge in brass on a semicircular scarlet patch in front, instead of a ribband with the ship's name. The clerks and writers are working in their offices, the cooks are busy at their galleys. The admiral is signalling to his squadron to alter course to head off the enemy, and to increase speed by so many revolutions. Her consorts follow in the curve of her foaming wake, and with every big gun trained  forward the lithe grey leviathans tear over the watery plain in search of their quarry. Nothing is seen but the scouting cruisers and a minute speck in the remote spaces of the sky, which someone thinks is a sea-plane, but which may well be a grey gull in the middle distance.
"It is full of great deeds sure to fire the imagination of any boy."—Times. It is a grey morning out on the North Sea, with but little wind.
"Gives a better and more readable account of our army than any book we can think of."—Graphic. There is no swell, but considerable movement on the surface of the waters, with here and there an occasional tossing of the white manes of the sea-horses.
From the midst of the chaos comes the shriek of a man calling on his Maker, and piteous groanings.
Soon the dull red of fire blushes through the smoke, and a rush of bluejackets and marines with fire-hoses spouting white streams of water engages this dread enemy and succeeds in subduing it.
The pen is powerless to bring before the imagination such a cataclysm of sound.
On a sudden, amidst the crashing of the guns and the continuous dull booming of the enemy's in the distance, there is a different and a rending explosion somewhere forward. Down on the forecastle all is smoke, blackness, torn iron plates and girders.
Acting in accordance with instructions from the Lords Commissioners, we have substituted other illustrations for those more recent ships previously chosen to represent the Great War by sea.
With Full-page Illustrations in Colour and in Black-and-White and Numerous Illustrations in the Text BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED LONDON GLASGOW AND BOMBAY were submitted to the Admiralty, with the result that the book has been approved.
Who would imagine that there are seven or eight hundred souls on board, seamen, marines, stokers, and many other ratings of whose existence and duties the "man in the street" is profoundly ignorant?