On the 6th November, 1916, the British passenger steamship Arabia was torpedoed in the Mediterranean without warning. She carried 437 passengers, of whom many were women and children, and a crew of 304. The torpedo struck her in the engine-room at 11.22 a.m., the explosion killing 11 men. The engines stopped at once, and the wireless was rendered useless. There was no confusion on board, the last boat leaving the ship at 11.37 a.m., and the only casualties were those caused by the explosion.

The following message, addressed to Wolff’s Telegraph Bureau, Berlin, from a German in New York, was afterwards intercepted by the Admiralty:—

“In Washington deep impression was made by German Admiralty’s announcement that German submarine sunk Arabia. There was even surprise expressed that attack on Arabia was semi-officially admitted. Admiralty’s explanation is considered as incomprehensible because Arabia, according to information received here, was ordinary passenger liner with many passengers on board, not carrying troops nor being under British Government charter.”

Only the splendid efficiency of officers and crew and the coolness of the passengers on board the Arabia prevented a terrible tragedy. To abandon ship successfully in fifteen minutes was a fine feat which averted a big disaster. The Germans who torpedoed this passenger ship without warning cannot, however, be allowed any credit for the small loss of life. It is quite obvious that they did not care whether the women and children perished or not.

The British steamship Moresby was torpedoed without warning on the 28th November, 1916. The ship at once settled down by the stern, and as she disappeared in 1½ minutes there was no possibility of getting any of the boats out or doing anything to save life. The submarine was not seen. The chief officer, his wife, one A.B. and 29 Chinamen were lost. The master, second mate, second and third engineers, one A.B. and seven Chinamen were saved.

James Rose, second hand, was on the deck of the British sailing trawler Trevone at half-past three in the afternoon of 30th January, 1917, when a German submarine suddenly appeared on the surface and opened fire. Her second shot hit the peak halyards, and the master and crew immediately took to their boat. They were ordered alongside the submarine and told to board her. In attempting to obey, the master and cook were both washed overboard. These two men could easily have been rescued, but the Germans took not the slightest notice of them. The master was seen hanging on to the submarine’s side, aft, for over ten minutes, but finally disappeared.

The remaining three hands were searched and relieved of their knives and money. They then had to write their names and ages upon a piece of paper, and were afterwards taken before the commanding officer, who examined them through a junior officer who spoke English.

The men noticed several chocolate-coloured bags hanging in the submarine, marked U55. They were given tea, and at 5 p.m. the U-boat submerged, and appeared to be stationary until 10 p.m., although the engines were kept running. She then came to the surface and remained there all night. The men were given hammocks to sleep in, but could not sleep, so talked to the submarine’s crew, who said they had sunk seven sailing vessels that day. At 9 a.m. next morning they had breakfast; at 10.45 they were ordered on deck, and received their knives back. The German officers kept eight shillings of their money. Finally they were sent off in the boat of a French schooner, and were fortunate enough to be picked up five hours later.

The worst feature of this case is the callous disregard shown by the Germans when the master and cook fell into the sea. These two men were allowed to drown right under the eyes of the Germans. After all, the poor fellows were only trying to carry out the U-boat commander’s order when they fell overboard, and the dictates of common decency would have caused any ordinary civilised man to have made at least some sort of effort to rescue them. No great effort would have been necessary; their own comrades could have picked up both men, if the Germans had allowed this.

Instead, the commander preferred to leave the master clinging to the side of the submarine until the icy winter water and his failing strength obliged the wretched man to relax his hold and sink to his death. It is a disgusting incident, which fills the mind with indignation against the man who could permit such a thing to happen.