Part 37

[The officer was not permitted to give this distance, but it is understood to have been considerably less than a mile, although the German torpedoes had an effective range of four miles.]

THE SHOT WENT STRAIGHT AND TRUE

“Then I loosed one of my torpedoes at the middle ship. I was then about twelve feet under water, and got the shot off in good shape, my men handling the boat as if she had been a skiff. I climbed to the surface to get a sight through my tube of the effect, and discovered that the shot had gone straight and true, striking the ship, which I later learned was the _Aboukir_, under one of her magazines, which in exploding helped the torpedo’s work of destruction.

“There was a fountain of water, a burst of smoke, a flash of fires and part of the cruiser rose in the air. Then I heard a roar and felt reverberations sent through the water by the detonation. She had been broken apart, and sank in a few minutes. The _Aboukir_ had been stricken in a vital spot and by an unseen force; that made the blow all the greater.

“Her crew were brave, and even with death staring them in the face kept to their posts, ready to handle their useless guns, for I submerged at once. But I had stayed on top long enough to see the other cruisers, which I learned were the _Cressy_ and the _Hogue_, turn and steam full speed to their dying sister, whose plight they could not understand, unless it had been due to an accident.

“The ships came on a mission of inquiry and rescue, for many of the _Aboukir’s_ crew were now in the water, the order having been given, ‘Each man for himself.’

“But soon the other two English cruisers learned what had brought about the destruction so suddenly.

“As I reached my torpedo depth I sent a second charge at the nearest of the oncoming vessels, which was the _Hogue_. The English were playing my game, for I had scarcely to move out of my position, which was a great aid, since it helped to keep me from being detected.

“The attack on the _Hogue_ went true. But this time I did not have the advantageous aid of having the torpedo detonate under the magazine, so for twenty minutes the _Hogue_ lay wounded and helpless on the surface before she heaved, half turned over and sank.

“But this time, the third cruiser knew that the enemy was upon her and she sought as best she could to defend herself. She loosed her torpedo defense batteries on boats, starboard and port, and stood her ground as if more anxious to help the many sailors who were in the water than to save herself. In common with the method of defending herself against a submarine attack, she steamed in a zigzag course, and this made it necessary for me to hold my torpedoes until I could lay a true course for them, which also made it necessary for me to get nearer to the _Cressy_. I had come to the surface for a view, and saw how wildly the fire was being sent from the ship. Small wonder that was when they did not know where to shoot, although one shot went unpleasantly near us.

THE CRESSY TURNS TURTLE

“When I got within suitable range, I sent away my third attack. This time I sent a second torpedo after the first to make the strike doubly certain. My crew were aiming like sharpshooters and both torpedoes went to their bullseye. My luck was with me again, for the enemy was made useless and at once began sinking by her head. Then she careened far over, but all the while her men stayed at the guns looking for their invisible foe. They were brave and true to their country’s sea traditions. Then she eventually suffered a boiler explosion and completely turned turtle. With her keel uppermost, she floated until the air got out from under her and then she sank with a loud sound, as if from a creature in pain.

“The whole affair had taken less than one hour from the time of shooting off the first torpedo until the _Cressy_ went to the bottom. Not one of the three had been able to use any of its big guns. I knew the wireless of the three cruisers had been calling for aid. I was still quite able to defend myself, but I knew that news of the disaster would call many English submarines and torpedo-boat destroyers, so, having done my appointed work, I set my course for home.

“My surmise was right, for before I got very far some British cruisers and destroyers were on the spot, and the destroyers took up the chase. I kept under water most of the way, but managed to get off a wireless to the German fleet that I was heading homeward and being pursued. I hoped to entice the enemy, by allowing them now and then a glimpse of me, into the zone in which they might be exposed to capture or destruction by German warships; but, although their destroyers saw me plainly at dusk on the 22nd, and made a final effort to stop me, they abandoned the attempt, as it was taking them too far from safety, and needlessly exposing them to attack from our fleet and submarines.

“How much they feared our submarines and how wide was the agitation caused by my good little _U-9_ is shown by the English reports that a whole flotilla of German submarines had attacked the cruisers, and that this flotilla had approached under cover of the flag of Holland.

“These reports were absolutely untrue.

“I reached the home port on the afternoon of the 23rd and on the 24th went to Wilhelmshaven to find the news of my effort had become public. My wife, dry-eyed when I went away, met me with tears. Then I learned that my little vessel and her brave crew had won the plaudits of the Kaiser, who had conferred upon my co-workers the Iron Cross of the second class and upon me the Iron Cross of the first and second classes.”

TORPEDOED!

A Nurse’s Graphic Personal Narrative of the Wanton Destruction of the _Sussex_

On a clear day with the sea a perfect mirror reflecting the blue sky, the French Channel Steamer _Sussex_ left Folkstone harbor on its fateful trip for Dieppe, March 24, 1916. Among the passengers was an English nurse attached to a French hospital, who was returning to duty from a month’s leave of absence in England. The _Sussex_ was a small but finely built, stout passenger boat, unarmed. She left harbor at 1.30 in the afternoon, and in a short time encountered in the Channel thousands of floating bags of a jettisoned cargo. A group of passengers, standing by the rail, began to discuss the possibilities of torpedoing. A British officer, who had braved dangers at Undros, laughed, saying that it was not submarine weather, the Germans being afraid to show themselves in a calm sea. Soon the others of the group strolled off leaving the nurse alone watching a Belgian officer exercising his dog on the deck. Presently they went away, and the nurse turned to look out at the sea and watch for a periscope.

What followed the nurse tells, as her personal experience, in an article published in _Blackwood’s Magazine_:

“It grew cold, and I was beginning to think of going back to my sheltered chair to roll myself up in my rug, when in a moment the whole earth and heaven seemed to explode in one head-splitting roar. In the thousandth part of a second my mind told me ‘Torpedoed—forward—on my right’—and then the sensation of falling, with my limbs spread-eagle, through space.

[Illustration: The _Sussex_ Beached

This channel ferryboat was torpedoed at night while carrying a large number of distinguished passengers. The force of the explosion broke her amidships.]

“When I came to myself again I was groping amid a tangle of broken wires with an agonizing pain in my back and the fiercest headache I had ever known. My hair was down, and plastered to my chin with blood that seemed to be coming from my mouth. There was more blood on my coat-sleeve. I was conscious that I was bleeding freely internally with every movement. My first definite thought was, ‘If only it is all a ghastly nightmare!’ But I remembered. My next thought was a passionately strong desire not to die by drowning—then. I crawled free of the wires that were coiled all about me and stood up.

DEAFENED AND UNABLE TO SPEAK

“In one unsteady glance I took in a number of things. Near me a horrible piece of something, and a dead woman. (Afterwards I wondered why I was so sure she was dead and never stooped to make sure.) _Below me, on the quarterdeck and second-class promenade deck_, numbers of people moving to and fro, many with lifebelts on. I never heard a sound from them, but it did not strike me as odd then. Now I know I was deafened. So I had been blown up on to the top deck, to the other end of the ship. I swayed to and fro, and looked for a stairway, but could find none, and began to be aware that I had only a few moments of consciousness left me.

“Something must be done if I was not to drown. I forced my will to concentrate on it, and came to the side, where I found three men looking down on a lowered boat. I also saw a lifebelt on the ground. I picked it up and, not having the strength to put it on, I tried to ask the men to tie it for me. Then I found I could not speak. So I held it up, and one, an American, understood, and hastily tied it. Then I saw one of them catch hold of a loose davit rope and swarm down it to the boat. There was my one chance, I decided. My arms were all right, but would my legs work? I took hold, and made a mighty effort to cross my knees round the rope: I succeeded. Then I slid down till I was just above the water.

INTO ONE LIFEBOAT

“I waited till the roll of the ship brought me near enough to the boat to catch, with my right hand, another rope that I saw hanging plumb above it, while I hung on with my left. It came within reach: I caught it, let go with my left, and lowered myself into the boat. Then I wanted to sink down in her bottom and forget everything, but I dared not, for men were pouring into her. I saw a man’s knee hooked over the side of the boat where I sat. I could not see his body, but it was in the water, between us and the side of the _Sussex_. As in a dream I held on to his knee with my left hand with all the grip I had left, and with my right held on to the seat on which I sat. I could do nothing to help him in, but on the other hand, so long as I remained conscious, his knee-hold should not be allowed to slip. No one took any notice of either of us. Gradually I began to hear again. The men in the boat were shouting that there was no more room, that the boat was full. One last man tumbled in and then the people in the boat pushed away, and men on the _Sussex_ helped. Others continually threw gratings and planks overboard.

ALMOST SWAMPED

“Our boat was dangerously overcrowded. Already she was half swamped. I wondered when she would upset. A man on either side seized gratings and towed them alongside. One made a herculean effort and pulled the man whose knee I had been holding into our boat, and nearly upset her. No one said a word. He was an elderly man, and his fat face was white and piteous. His hands never ceased trembling. He had had a terrible fright. Some one suggested getting out the oars, and others said it was impossible, as they were underneath us all. However, it was managed, and several men stood up and changed places. Again we nearly upset. I joined with the others in commanding these wild folk to sit still. Three oars were produced. One was given to a young and sickly looking Frenchman opposite to me. He did not know how to use it. Everyone shouted to get away from the steamer. The water had now reached my knees, and I began to notice how cold it was.

“I saw three other women in the boat. They sat together, white and silent, in the stern, nor ever moved. They were French women. Some one noticed that the water was increasing and there was a wild hullabaloo of alarm. A Belgian—the man who had pulled into the boat the man whose knee I held—called for hats with which to bale, setting the example with his. But we were so tightly packed that no one could get at the water, whereupon the Belgian climbed overboard on to one of the gratings I have already mentioned, and a young Belgian soldier followed his example on the other side. They held on to our gunwale with their fingers. This somewhat relieved the congestion, enabling us to bail.

[Illustration:

_Drawn by Joseph Cummings Chase._

Brigadier-General Leroy Eltinge

Deputy Chief of Staff, G. H. Q., A. E. F.]

“Sometimes the people in the boat bailed furiously, sometimes they stopped and stared stupidly about them. Some shouted ‘Ramez! Ramez!’ Others equally excited yelled ‘Mais non! Videz l’eau! Videz l’eau!’ I apologized to my immediate neighbors for that I had no hat to lend, and for that I was too hurt to stoop, but I put my hands on the erring oar the young Frenchman was feebly moving across my knees, and did my best to guide his efforts. As often as not he put it flat on the water, and sometimes he merely desisted altogether, and gazed vacantly in front of him. The Belgian asked for a handkerchief, and groping in the water at the bottom of the boat, found a hole and caulked it as best he could. Thereafter the bailers kept the water from increasing, but did little to reduce it.

THE _SUSSEX_ STILL AFLOAT

“Looking around I saw our steamer riding quite happily on the water with her bows clean gone. Afterwards I learned that the torpedo had cut off her fore-part, to within an inch or two of where I had been standing, and that it had sunk. I saw another full boat being rowed away from the ship, and an overturned one with two people sitting on her keel. I saw a man seated on a grating. All were convinced that help would be forthcoming speedily. And still the _Sussex_ floated. Four times I remarked—by way of a _ballon d’essai_—that it seemed as if she were not going to sink, and always there was an outcry to row, and get away from her. The Belgian and the Belgian soldier evidently thought as I did. They proposed that we should return before we were swamped ourselves. Once again a hysterical outburst. One man jumped to his feet and shrieked, and asked us if it were to hell that we intended returning? I began to be afraid that he and those who thought as he did would throw us others into the sea, but common-sense told me that to remain all night in that overcrowded half-swamped boat would be to court death.

“We saw at last that the other boat was returning. This was our chance. Example is a wonderful thing in dealing with mob hysteria. Tentatively the two Belgians and I proposed that we should go as close to the steamer as prudence permitted, and ask the Captain if she were going to sink. If his answer were favorable, those who desired should go on board, and any who liked could go off again in the boat. If his answer were unfavorable, we would stand off again. The maniac still shrieked his protests, but the rest of the boat was with us. But no one seemed to know how to turn the boat. As soon as we told one to backwater, the other two did likewise. It seemed hopeless. Finally, we let the other two oars pull, and I myself tried to induce my _vis-à-vis_ to ‘ramez au sens contraire,’ which was the nearest approach I could get to ‘backwater’ in French. He was too dazed to understand, so I simply set my teeth and pulled against him, and in about fifteen minutes the boat gradually came round in a wide circle. How I longed to be whole again so that I could take his oar right away and cox that mad boat! With my injured back and inside I could only just compass what I did. The pain kept me from collapsing, and the exertion from freezing.

“It looked as though we were to be swamped, after all, within ten yards of the _Sussex’s_ gaping bows, for our crew, in their excitement, had forgotten to bail for some minutes. As we floated in under her sides I made a final appeal, which a young Belgian put into more forcible French, for everybody to keep calm and not upset the boat at the last.

BACK TO THE SHIP

“The women now spoke for the first time—and it was to appeal to the excited boat’s load to let me be taken off first, since I was injured. I found I could not stand, so sat in the middle of the seat trying to trim the boat while the men scrambled out. I was left alone at last; and the water that came over the gunwale poured over my legs to my waist, some of it soaking through my thick great-coat and chilling me to the bone. The boat was floating away. Some one shouted to me to get up. I got on to my hands and knees on the seat and tried to crawl along the side, but the change of position nearly caused me to faint with pain. Then the Belgian managed to get hold of the boat and hold her, and some sailors leaned out of the hatchway in the _Sussex’s_ side and grasped me by the arms and pulled me up and in as though I had been a sack. There were many far worse hurt than I, and they left me propped against a wall. The Belgian again came to the rescue, and half dragged me to the top of the second saloon stairway. I got down by levering myself on my hands on the rails, while he supported me under the arms.

[Illustration:

_Courtesy of Leslies._

Searching for U-Boats in the North Sea

A fleet of torpedo boats combing the seas for German raiders. The Allied Fleets maintained their vigil until the German Navy was surrendered at Scapa Flow.]

“Once in the saloon, he and the young Belgian soldier took off my loosely fixed lifebelt and laid me on a couch. One forced a glass of whisky down my throat, which burned and gave me back renewed consciousness, while the other ran for brandy. I was terribly cold, and the good Belgian took off my boots and puttees and stockings and chafed my feet till one was warm. The other had no sensation for over twelve hours, and five days later, when it was radiographed, proved to be sprained and fractured.

“WHAT IS IT TO DIE?”

“After that, long hours of waiting. A woman shrieked incessantly up on deck. A man with a wounded head came and sat patiently in a corner. A girl, complaining of a pain in her chest, came down the stairs and lay down on a corner couch. She never moved nor spoke again. By midnight she was dead. None of us guessed, none of us knew. She died bravely and silently, quite alone. Another woman showed signs of approaching hysteria. A young Belgian officer, who had been attending her, suddenly ceased his gallantry, and standing sternly before her, said brusquely, ‘After all, if the very worst comes, you can only die. What is it to die?’ The words acted on her like a douche of cold water. She became herself again and never murmured. We others, perhaps, benefited too. It is nerve-racking work lying helpless in a damaged vessel, wondering whether the rescue ship or another enemy submarine will appear first on the scene. And no ship came. At intervals the Belgian boy soldiers came down to reassure us: ‘The wireless had been repaired. Forty vessels were searching for us. There was a light to starboard. We were drifting towards Boulogne. The “Phares” of the coast were in sight.’ But no ship came. The light to starboard faded. Another appeared, and faded too.

“Then we heard the regular boom of a cannon or a rocket. We all knew that something must have blocked our wireless, but no one said so. The Belgian came down to sleep, fixing his lifebelt first. With him came a good French-woman, who was very kind to me and washed the blood from my face and rinsed out my bleeding mouth. She was very hungry, and all I could do to help her was to hold her jewels while she went on deck to search for her hand baggage, and, later, to give her some soaked food out of my pocket. There was no food left anywhere. She said some brave words, too, about death coming to all, only coming once, and being soon over. How much one person’s courage can help others at such a time! Then she tied on a lifebelt and went to sleep beside me. The ship was rolling now, and the seas slapped noisily against her somewhere, jarring her all through her frame. But the Captain had said she would not sink for eighteen hours, and we all believed his word implicitly. Still, it was an ugly noise, and seemed to betoken her helplessness.

“WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST”