The deck of our vessel was a sickening sight. Dead, dying, and wounded
men lay in all directions, and blood seemed to be everywhere.
We gathered the wounded together and got them under cover, and with the
able help of our veterinary surgeon attended to them as best we could.
Nothing more could now be done. We were momentarily expecting the
torpedo to strike the vessel and finish her, and stood ready to jump
clear of the ship when she went under.
But the torpedo did not arrive. Instead, we saw the crew of the
submarine hurrying to get their gun below and preparing to submerge.
The cause of this manoeuvre was the sudden appearance of two
destroyers, racing towards us at full speed.
The submarine rapidly disappeared under the water, and in a few moments
more the two destroyers and the patrol steamer were alongside and
darting all round us in hopes of getting a shot at her.
We sent up a rousing cheer when we saw our rescuers approach; we could
scarcely realize that we were saved.
I at once got in communication with the commander of one of the
destroyers and asked him to search for our boats and any of our crew
who happened to be in the water and pick them up.
This they at once started to do, and in a very short time informed
me that they had rescued ninety-seven of them and would proceed to
Queenstown and land them.
On making an examination of our steamer, we found, in addition to
considerable damage round the decks, that she had been badly holed
below the waterline, and was taking water rapidly.
We at once set to work and plugged the holes up with bales of hay and
bags of fodder, at the same time giving the vessel a list so as to
bring the damaged plates out of the water as much as possible.
When this had been done I informed the commander of the remaining
destroyer, and told him that we were ready to proceed, but that it
would be necessary to go into Queenstown, the nearest port, to land our
dead and wounded.
He replied that this would be the best course to adopt, and that he
would convoy us into port.
We accordingly headed for Queenstown, and duly arrived there late that
night, where we were treated with the greatest courtesy and kindness by
the Admiralty officials.
The dead were removed and the wounded taken to the naval hospital,
where their injuries were attended to.
Meanwhile the Admiralty took the vessel in hand, and immediately
commenced temporary repairs on her, and in less than twenty-four hours
I was able to leave the port and proceed with her to Avonmouth, our
destination, under the escort of two destroyers.
The remains of our brave captain and of those who fell with him were
buried in Queenstown the following day, being accorded full naval
honours. The Admiral of the port himself attended, and the respect and
regard shown by the townspeople, as the remains of these heroes were
laid to rest, was very marked.
No tribute is too great to pay to the memory of the late Captain
Parslow, who died like the gallant seaman he was, giving his life in an
endeavour to save his ship and the lives of those under his command.
His son, the second officer, for the pluck and courage he displayed
in remaining at the wheel during the firing, has been awarded the
Distinguished Service Cross. The chief engineer received the same
decoration, and I myself was the recipient of a handsome gold watch,
suitably inscribed, "From the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty," as
was likewise the second engineer and the senior Marconi operator.
The conduct of both the third officer and the junior Marconi operator
deserves great praise, for they displayed splendid courage and coolness
in carrying out their duties during the attack.
Lloyd's showed their appreciation of our efforts by presenting a
substantial cheque, expressing at the same time their sincere regret
for the loss of the heroic Captain Parslow.
The crew of the submarine, presumably, duly received Iron Crosses for
their glorious day's work.