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Updated: May 28, 2025
For an hour Denman remained with Florrie to witness the unusual spectacle of a forty-knot destroyer in a hurry.
When they stay up it is easy enough, but when they are porpoising, shooting it up for just a look around, you have to be looking right at one. What they first saw on the 343 was the wake of this torpedo, coming on at a forty-knot clip for the waist of the ship. The commander of the 343 was on the bridge at the time and saw the wake almost with the cry of the lookout.
So the commander put the wheel hard over to take it on his quarter, where there was also a chance that it would pass under her. Torpedoes generally strike twelve to fifteen feet under water, but just before this one could make the 343 it broached came to the surface of the water but without slacking her forty-knot speed. It was unusual and spectacular.
"Sounds all right," he admitted, "but for sheer excitement give me a misty morning, the bows of a forty-knot destroyer cutting the sea into diamonds, decks cleared for action, and old Dick in oilskins on the salute 'Enemy's submarine, sir, on the port bow, sir." "And what would you do then?" Granet asked. "See page seven Admiralty instructions this afternoon," the other replied, smiling.
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