“Meanwhile the ship had taken a decided list, and was sinking rapidly by the head. The efforts made to lower the boats had apparently not met with much success. Those on the port side had swung inboard and could not be used, while the collapsible boats which were lashed beneath them could not be got at. The ladies were standing quite coolly, waiting on board to enter the boats when they could be released by the men from the davits. The davits by this time were themselves touching the water, the ship having sunk so low that the bridge deck was only four feet or so from the surface of the sea. Losing no time, the men passed the women rapidly into the boats, and places had been found by now for all the people about the midships section. I stepped into one of the lifeboats and attempted to assist in getting it clear. I saw the list was so great that the davits pinched the gear, rendering it improbable that they could be got away when the ship went down, so I stepped on to the gunwale and dived into the water. I had no lifebelt and am not a good swimmer, but I decided to take the risk. I had been wetted right through when the explosion occurred, and I believe that had I gone in dry I should have swallowed so much water that I should not have lasted long.
The sun-cure
The “Franconia” passing through the Suez Canal
“I swam as hard as I could away from the vessel, and noticed with feelings of apprehension the menacing bulk of the huge funnels as they loomed up over my head. I expected them momentarily to fall on me and crush me as I swam, but at last I judged myself to be clear, and I turned round and trod the water in order to watch the great hull heel over. The monster took a sudden plunge, and, noting the crowd still on her decks and the heavily laden boats filling with helpless women and children glued to her side, I sickened with horror at the sight. The liner’s stern rose high out of the water; there was a thunderous roar as of the collapse of a great building during a fire, and then she disappeared, dragging hundreds of fellow-creatures into the vortex. Many never rose again to the surface, but the sea rapidly grew black with the figures of struggling men, women, and children. The wireless installation came over with a crash into the sea. It struck my uplifted arm as it fell, and I felt it pass over my body as it sank, almost dragging me under.
“The rush of water over the steamer’s decks swept away a collapsible boat, and I swam towards it. Another man reached it shortly after, and after we were rescued I found him to be Mr. James Lauriat, jun., of Boston. Two seamen also managed to swim to the boat and to climb on to it. One had a knife, and the other asked me for mine, and together they set about cutting away the canvas cover of the boat. When they had finished, I climbed inside, and the three of them followed me. We started to rescue the unfortunate people in the water, or at least those of them who were still living. We quickly had about 30 of them in the little craft. Around us in the water were scores of boats. There were no oars in our boats. We managed to raise the sides of the boat as they should be raised when the boat is in use, and we collected five oars from the mass of floating timber in the water. Then we started to row towards the lighthouse, which we could see in the distance. At the time the liner was torpedoed there was absolutely no ship of any kind in sight, with the exception of a trawler—the Peel 12, of Glasgow; she was close inshore under the lighthouse, and, owing to the lightness of the wind, she was of no use so far as the rescue of persons actually in the sea was concerned. She came along as fast as she could, however, and was able to pick up about one hundred and ten persons from lifeboats and life-rafts. Her limited capacity was pushed to the utmost, and I even had to sit with one leg hanging over the sides because there was no room to put it on the inside. We took in tow a lifeboat and a raft, which were also filled to the gunwale, and when the occupants were able to be taken out they were cast off. The auxiliary boat Indian Prince had by that time arrived from Queenstown. The Peel 12 was the first boat on the scene, and she was followed by a tramp Greek steamer, which came up from the west, and was able to pick up several lifeboats which had got away.”
American troops never forgot the “Lusitania”
Such was the experience of Mr. Brooks, and in his moving narrative we can not only divine something of a tragedy beyond the scope of any human pen, but gather also an impression of heroism, of unquestioning devotion to duty, at which every member of the Cunard Company may well thrill with pride.