When I received the master’s report that the damage was confined to this one compartment, I hailed the boats which were close to the ship and directed them to come alongside and also sent a signal to the escorting yachts to turn back the Finland’s boats which were approaching them and tell them to return to the ship. These yachts, the Alcedo and Wakiva, had come close to the Finland and lowered boats to rescue people who had been cast into the water by the dropping of two of the Finland’s boats.
The converted yacht Corsair and one of the destroyers were circling at high speed around the Finland and dropping depth charges in order to prevent the enemy submarine from delivering a second attack on the crippled Finland.
THE FINLAND, JUST AFTER SHE WAS TORPEDOED
DESTROYER PRESTON, WHICH WAS CAUGHT IN THE HURRICANE AND ALSO FOUND REFUGE AT LISBON
While the Finland’s boats were in the water, a heavy squall came up and rendered the return of the heavily laden boats very difficult. They could come close only on the starboard side and getting the people back on board was very slow work. Hoisting the boats was not to be thought of, for every moment that this large ship remained stopped was to risk grave danger of receiving a second torpedo. As soon as the passengers were aboard, the boats were cast adrift.
The ship got under way to return to the port of Brest, 150 miles distant. She was escorted by the Corsair and one of the destroyers, while another destroyer remained with the Alcedo and Wakiva to afford them protection until they had picked up the rest of the Finland’s crew. During the return to port it became necessary to send every one to the fire-room who could shovel coal. Deck-hands, stewards, and even passengers, including some of the discharged American ambulance drivers, responded with alacrity to this call and within a short time after starting ahead the ship was making nearly fifteen knots, which was about as good speed as she had made at any time during her employment in the transport service. The bulkheads of the damaged compartment held and there was no leakage through the water-tight doors.
It is regrettable that eight men lost their lives. The coolness and resourcefulness of the acting master and the engineer of the watch deserve commendation. Cadet Officer David MacLaren was the youngest officer on board—just eighteen years old. After I had ordered the boats lowered, this lad, who was in charge of one of them, would have been justified in leaving the ship which he believed to be sinking, but he returned to the bridge and reported to me that his boat was lowered and clear of the ship and asked if he could be of any service. He stayed on the bridge, giving valuable assistance, and displaying courage and readiness worthy of the best traditions of the sea.
One of the Navy youngsters was down in the living compartment cleaning up when the ship was struck. Some one in a boat hanging at the davits, seeing him hurry along the promenade deck, asked which boat he belonged in.