For many months the steamer _Lanfranc_ had been employed in bringing
wounded from France to England; but one evening in the spring of 1917
she fell a victim to a torpedo launched by a German submarine.
She had a crew of more than a hundred, and when she left France she had
on board between 300 and 400 British wounded and about 160 Germans.
Many of the latter were wounded and were being taken to England for
treatment.
The vessel was struck about half-past seven in the evening when the sea
was quite calm. There was a crash which shook the ship from end to end,
and then a loud explosion. In a very short time the engines stopped,
and the ship heeled over as if about to sink. Then she righted herself
and remained steady on the surface of the water; but the torpedo had
done its work and the ship was slowly sinking.
As soon as the crash of the torpedo was felt the German prisoners were
thrown into a panic of terror. They rushed madly to the lifeboats,
and it was only by threatening them with revolvers that the British
officers were able to drive them back. They were sternly told to wait
their turn, and knew that they must obey; but some of them showed the
most abject fear and went down on their knees to beg for mercy.
Meanwhile, the crew and the hospital staff had quietly taken up their
posts and begun the work of rescue. The wounded who were too ill or too
maimed to help themselves were brought up on deck and carried first to
the boats. The others remained on deck, and though many of them were
sadly crippled they tried to stand to attention.
The vessel was slowly sinking and help had been summoned by wireless.
But as yet there were no rescuers in sight and the first business
was to get as many as possible into the boats. It was not, however,
a matter of “everyman for himself.” Among the British, at least, it
seemed to be “every man for his comrade.” Those who afterwards told
the story of that perilous hour said that they had never seen so many
examples of cheery helpfulness among British soldiers.
But this is not surprising, for the good comradeship of British
soldiers is well known all over the world. There is still greater
praise due to those men on the _Lanfranc_. They rose to the greater
height of heroism in showing pity and mercy to the comrades of the men
who had attacked a hospital ship in defiance not only of the rules of
war but of the higher law of humanity.
It would have been almost excusable if in that hour the British
soldiers had turned upon the Prussians or had at least shown some
feeling towards them. But instead of any sign of anger or contempt we
are told of the most gentlemanly kindness and courtesy.
“The behaviour of our own lads,” said a British officer, “I shall never
forget.... Those who could lend a hand scurried below to help in saving
friend or enemy. One man whom I saw had a leg severed and his head was
heavily bandaged. He whistled to a mate to come and help a Prussian
who was unable to move owing to internal injuries. Another man limped
painfully along with a Prussian officer on his arm, and helped the
latter to a boat.
“It is impossible to give adequate praise to the crew and staff. They
were all heroes. They remained at their posts until the last man had
been taken off. Some of them took off articles of their clothing and
threw them into the lifeboats for the benefit of some of the sick and
wounded. The same spirit showed itself as we moved away from the scene
of the outrage. I saw a sergeant take his tunic off and make a pillow
for a wounded German. There was a private who had his arms around an
enemy trying hard to make the best of an uncomfortable position.”
The men were at last picked up by French vessels and were quickly made
as comfortable as possible. It must not be forgotten that loss of life
was prevented by the splendid behaviour of the men in this crisis. It
is often quite as heroic to stand steady as to dash forward into the
“jaws of death.”