November scenario: Gun for Gun, Shot for Shot: AAR.

[Bligh]

Rear Admiral Sir Joshua Pound opened his eyes slowly, trying to piece together where exactly he was. His head throbbed excruciatingly, and the whole room seemed to be immersed in a thinly veiled fog. As his mind cleared he realized that he was in his cot within his great cabin on board the Royal George. All the partitions were down, and what little light there was emulated from between a mass of shuttering erected to protect what remained of the stern gallery from which all the glass and most of the framework had disappeared.

Gradually he tried to piece together the sequence of the action of the previous day. As the memories returned a shadowy figure materialized out of the gloom. Monsieur
Dudley tried to focus on it but all he could make out was a Naval uniform. As he strained to see he realized that one of his eyes was not focusing and indeed seemed to be the reason for a good deal of the misty darkness.
Suddenly from the uniform came a voice! It spoke gently to him. " I see that you have now regained consciousness Monsieur."
With this remark echoing through his head rationalist dawned upon Pound that the uniform he could make out was that of a French ships surgeon.

He attempted to rise, but a hand restrained him.
" You must rest Amiral as you ave received a nasty wound to your ead."

It was at this juncture that Sir Joshua came to the conclusion that he was in fact a prisoner of war.

Kyte.