One day a wireless was received that a ship was sinking a short distance away.  She had been hit by two torpedoes and was sinking rapidly  but two destroyers were hurrying to the rescue.  We were all ordered to carry our life-belts wherever we went and our course was changed toward the north.  Soon we sighted the high, bare rocks of the Scilly Isles and arrived outside Falmouth Harbour on the evening of the fourteenth  day we had spent on the trip.

Next morning everyone was on deck many of us to get our first real glimpse  of the motherland. It was a bright, sunny, day and the gulls were dipping and wheeling  in all directions.  The hills surrounding the harbour were clothed in the greenest of green grass with a few clumps of hazel- trees interspersed among the hollows.  On the left an oak woods was seen in the background.  As we entered the harbour an old warship appeared.  It was the victory herself.  She seemed small beside the big liner and yet, in days gone by she had held the hope of being in England.  It was her deck that great Nelson fell in the hour of victory.

{My note: The Victory was in sad decay by 1920.  There seems to be no record of it being in Falmouth.  And what is the boat that was torpedoed? Still looking! I can’t wait to find out more}