Rolf Bennett, Commander Lawless V.C
“ In the little wheelhouse, perched high up in front of the funnel, Skipper Chard clung to a handrail and peered through the rime-frosted glass across the endless grey vista of tossing, white-capped seas.Chard growled as the trawler, struck amidships by an extra large wave, heeled till her port taffrail was under water.When she had righted herself, Lawless, clad in oilskins and a sou'-wester, swarmed up the little iron ladder to the wheelhouse, and, waiting a favourable opportunity, opened the door and staggered in."Phew!" he ejaculated. "This is weather and no mistake!" ”
