The worst thing was the inefficiency with the lifeboats. On the port side many of the davits wouldn't work and the boats would not go over. The tackle broke on one of four or five boats I saw lowered, while one dropped from the davits and split in two. A few of the collapsible boats floated away upside down, while one raft, which some one cut away with an axe, crushed some men who were trying to climb into a boat.
There was a great whirlpool when the Lusitania finally settled into the sea, but no suction. I was drawn into the whirlpool, but had no trouble in swimming out. She went down very fast at one end. Our boat, which was the most crowded of all, with eighty-four in it, was almost swamped by the wireless antennæ, which swept across us as the Lusitania keeled over for the last time before she righted and sank.
The daughter of Lady Allan told me she saw the submarine, but I know of no one else who did. Shots were fired while we were in the small boats, about twenty minutes after the Lusitania sank, but I don't know if they were from the submarine. They might have been signals from land. The only boat in sight was a fishing smack, or pilot boat, three or four miles away. There was smoke on the horizon, and one vessel seemed to be coming up, but she sheered off.
The wireless operator told me he got in four wireless signals and got an answer to the last one. The boats rowed toward the smack, which took part of the people on board and towed two other boatloads. It was 5 o'clock when we were picked up, and at that time no boat was anywhere near the scene of the wreck. One trawler got to the wreck about 5:30. It was followed by two torpedo boats and eight or nine other boats. Captain Turner had ordered some lifeboats swung over the side on Wednesday and all swung over on Thursday morning, but the rafts and collapsible boats were not touched, but remained securely fastened. There was plenty of boat accommodation if there had been time to get them over.
The men all waited until no women were in sight before they went into the boats. I never believed it true before, but there seemed to be a regular chorus all the time on the Lusitania: "Women first! Women first!"
III—STORY OF OLIVER P. BERNARD, AN ENGLISH PASSENGER
I think I can say that I was one of the few persons who really saw a torpedo discharged at the Lusitania. Coming on deck from the dining saloon. I was leaning against the starboard rail of the ship when I saw the periscope of a submarine about two hundred yards away. Then I noticed a long white streak of foam. It gave me the impression of frothy fizzing in water. A woman came to me and said: "There's a torpedo coming." Before she had finished the explosion took place and tons of debris were blown up through the four decks. Almost immediately there was a terrific impact, followed by an explosion. The Lusitania was going at fifteen knots at the time. The shot was perfectly aimed at the boat, and when it struck, debris, dust and water were thrown up in a dense column through the entire superstructure of the vessel about the bridge. A hundred must have been blown to atoms, including trimmers and stokers, to say nothing of men and women in the forward cabins, who were about to come on deck.
The Lusitania fell over to starboard and then slowly righted part way. Nearly every one rushed below. I went to the flying deck and stood between the funnels, where I could see them making an awful mess of getting the boats out. They were cutting and hacking at them. The first boat floated away empty. The next three were smashed. The Marconi main room was put out of commission by the first torpedo; then the wireless operator rushed to the emergency room, and just as he got the first reply to the "S. O. S." the whole apparatus went out of action.
The first torpedo hit amidship by the grand entrance to the saloon and rear of the bridge. A Marconi man rushed to me and offered me a chair, and said I had better take that, as it might be useful and better than nothing.