The engine-room was flooded. Boats were lowered on both sides to the level of the bridge deck to embark the passengers; but the ship was settling down quickly by the stern, and before the boats could be lowered they were afloat. A number of passengers were in the boats when they took the water, and one on the starboard side was overturned, the passengers being thrown into the water. Another boat, which had to be cut loose, threw three people into the water. Ten boats got clear of the ship, which sank at 9.30 a.m., the master remaining on the bridge. He was picked up half-an-hour later by one of the boats. A patrol-boat had taken in the S.O.S. signal and arrived on the scene in time to rescue 160 survivors.
Forty-three lives were lost by drowning and injuries, and there were thirty cot cases among the survivors. A few facts reveal the tragic side of the occurrence. Seven women and four children were killed; three young children were saved, their mother being lost; one small boy was saved, while the bodies of his mother, brother, and sister were afterwards washed ashore.
The facts speak for themselves and make comment almost superfluous. The passengers and crew never got a fair chance of saving themselves, as the vessel was torpedoed without any kind of warning.
At 7 a.m. on the 10th February, 1917, a shot was fired at the British steamship Sallagh by a submarine on her starboard quarter. The submarine then hoisted the signal “abandon ship,” and while the boat was being got ready, fired again, killing the chief engineer and seriously wounding two other men. The Germans afterwards placed bombs in the vessel, and fired two shots into her. The second caused an explosion and the ship sank. Having provided bandages for the wounded men, the Germans rigged their craft like a smack and lay off about 5 miles in wait for another victim. The ship’s boat was picked up at 4.30 p.m. on the same day.
The British steamship Afric was 12 miles S.S.W. of the Eddystone Lighthouse at about 5.15 a.m. on the 12th February, 1917. Suddenly a torpedo struck her on the starboard side about abreast of the engine-room, causing a terrific explosion, which stopped the engines, put out all lights, broke the telegraphs, and brought the aerial down. The engineers and greasers on watch at the time were killed. The rest of the crew left the ship and stood by in eight boats, leaving the master, first officer and steward on board. At 6 a.m. a second explosion occurred on the port side abreast of No. 1 hold. The ship was finally abandoned after this, and at about 6.20 a.m. a submarine appeared, questioned the master, and then shelled the ship, which sank at 7.45 a.m. The boats were picked up about 5 hours later. Five men were killed, probably by the first explosion.
The steamer Sallagh appears to have been shelled as a matter of course while her boats were being got out. Otherwise there would have been no loss of life and no wounded on board. As the submarine took the trouble to hoist the signal “abandon ship,” which was at once obeyed, she had no excuse for the subsequent shelling. The case is one of wholly unnecessary murder, although the Germans were not so callous as on some occasions.
At 11.15 p.m. on the 17th February, the British steamer Valdes was torpedoed without warning. It was a pitch-dark night, and nothing was seen before the explosion of the torpedo. The master and seven of the crew were thrown into the water as the ship went down; three men went down with her. The port life-boat was successfully launched, and 20 members of the crew embarked. The starboard life-boat was blown to pieces. A trawler picked up the 20 survivors, but two of them died from exposure. Eleven men lost their lives.
The British steamship Laconia was sunk on the 25th February. She carried a crew of 217 and 77 passengers. When about 140 miles from the S.W. of Ireland, at 10.53 at night, she was torpedoed without warning and began to list to starboard. The boats were quickly lowered; all the passengers and most of the crew embarked before a second torpedo struck the ship. Those left on board then abandoned her, and the submarine soon afterwards came to the surface, wished the boats’ companies “good night,” and disappeared. The Laconia went down at about 11.48 p.m.
Although her boats had been lowered, the task had not been accomplished without mishap. Life-boat No. 8 had bumped several times against the steamer’s side, owing to the jambing of ropes and the ship’s big list. The boat took the water bow first, and when her stern was released, she plunged, shipping a lot of water. She was considerably damaged before getting clear, with the result that she was awash, except for the raised portion of her bow and stern, when she did eventually get clear. Every wave washed over the boat’s company, whose sufferings were deplorable.
About two hours after leaving the ship, a first-class passenger named Mr. Robinson, who was in delicate health, died from exposure, and his body was washed overboard. A lady was the next to die, but her daughter, not realising what had happened, continued to support her mother’s body. An hour later the daughter herself passed away. A coloured sailor was the next to succumb. Then a fireman, who was sitting on one of the thwarts, allowed his head to sink into the water and so was drowned. A gentleman passenger was now seen to be dead, and a lady, who was his friend, became hysterical. To soothe her, it was pretended that the man had only fainted, and his body was kept in the boat. Fifteen minutes afterwards a fireman lurched overboard and was drowned. At 9 o’clock next morning the boat was picked up. All the other boats had been picked up before daylight. Twelve lives were lost.