ATTACK ON LINER DESCRIBED
The scenes on both the vessel and the little submarine may be pictured from a theoretical description given by Captain Lake as follows: “The great ship, knowing the lurking danger, is traveling at her best speed limit, changing the course from time to time in a zigzag manner. Waiting beneath the surface of the calm sea a big submarine, now said to be capable of discharging a torpedo at a distance of five miles, rolls idly in the underground swell. Her crew is sleeping or talking in the semi-fetid atmosphere that the compressed air tanks relieve from time to time. An officer sits with his eye glued to a periscope, which constantly revolves that he may discern the rising smoke of an approaching vessel.
“On the deck of the Lusitania passengers are lolling in steamer chairs or leaning over the rails. They covertly fear attack, yet the horizon shows no sign of the impending calamity.
“Suddenly the submarine commander focuses his periscope upon a faint and hazy line on the horizon. Closely he watches it move. An electric signal is given and the submarine crew is in place. Another and the boat swings silently and slowly on its course diagonal to that of the approaching vessel. The electric engines turn without noise.
“The vessels near each other. An order is transmitted from the conning tower to the forward compartment of the submarine. The outside ports of two bow torpedo tubes are closed; compressed air drives out all water. Two inside ports are carefully opened and two one-ton torpedoes are lifted by means of chain tackle and swung carefully into the tubes. The inside ports are closed and the outside ports again opened. The air chamber between the torpedo and the breaches is filled with air compressed to nearly 1,200 pounds to the square inch—nearly the force of exploding dynamite.
“Both vessels are closing together at right angles. On the bigger one all is gayety and hope of early and safe arrival at port. On the submarine all are alert. The bow is carefully trained toward a direct line over which the ship must travel. The speed and distance are carefully gauged by trained officers.
“The submarine sinks beneath the surface and men are stationed at the firing levers on each of the forward tubes. An officer stands with a watch in his hand, counting the seconds. A little bell tinkles over the lever man on the port or starboard side of the submarine. He pulls the lever which releases the trigger, and with a rush the enormous torpedo forces itself in a direct line toward the vessel. Another second elapses and the bell rings again. Similar action is observed on the submarine, which a moment later rises with its periscope above the slight ripple of the water.
“There is a deadening crash, as the shock is transmitted through the water and the resounding shell of the air-filled submarine. The officer at the submarine periscope, or conning tower, is the only living person on the submarine that sees a great vessel rise out of the water and slowly settle back. He knows that the shots have taken effect and he can offer no aid to the thousands who a moment later will be attempting to save their lives. He turns his bow homeward, or cruises for other victims of his mechanical ingenuity, as his sealed sailing orders may direct.