I was in the smoking room when the explosion took place. It shook the
whole ship, just as a train would shake if the locomotive suddenly
stopped and backed into it. I did not, of course, know what it was, and
it did not occur to me that we had been torpedoed. I thought it might
be a mine, or that we had run upon a rock, but it simply did not occur
to my mind to imagine anything so horrible as that this defenseless
ship with its helpless passengers would be torpedoed without warning.
I left the smoking room and went out on deck to look over the side
at the spot where the ship was when the explosion took place. It was
about 300 feet away. The ship began to take a list to starboard, but
very slowly. There was no panic, either then or at any other time. Many
other passengers came out and looked over the side, just as I did, but
there were no signs of alarm or any rushing about.
I went down to "A" deck to see what was happening there, but there
was no commotion, any more than there was on the upper one, to which
I returned. But the ship was listing more and more. The lifeboats had
been swung out the previous day, and I saw women and children being
put into them by sailors. There was no rushing for the boats, no
struggling for places; everything was being done with perfect calmness
and orderliness. I went down to my cabin, meeting many people in the
alleyways with lifebelts and others going for them.
I made my way aft, and seeing no one on the navigating bridge,
scrambled up there, where I could observe everything that was happening
along one side of the ship. The ship now heeled over so much that the
passengers were clinging to the deck rail. It was a terrible sight;
their helplessness, with the great ship steadily going down under us.
Suddenly there came a terrific rumbling, roaring noise; the huge ship
trembled as her funnels went over, and she just slid under the waves
by the head. Then she seemed to be suddenly checked, as though her bow
had struck something, but it was only momentary, and in another moment
she disappeared under the water. I went down with her, but came to
the surface again very quickly. All around me I saw great numbers of
persons struggling in the water. Presently there floated near me a
rectangular sheet metal can, like the air tank of a lifeboat, and I
clutched it. I waited for a rescuer, but there was none in sight. Then
two men came along, hanging on to a barrel with handles on each end, so
I brought my tank over and caught on to it for company. We were hanging
on for some time, when a man of seventy-five and a boy of seventeen
came along on a plank. The boy could not swim. We caught them and added
them and their plank to our party.
After another twenty minutes or so we saw in the distance what looked
like a raft, so we swam toward it, pushing our supports. It took us
nearly half an hour to reach that raft, and it turned out to be a
collapsible boat.
We were in this boat some time, and were taking in water steadily,
when a man weighing perhaps 250 pounds floated by, without any life
preserver. He was all in, but we got him aboard. Next a foreigner, who
could speak no English, got in with us. Then a woman floated along with
a deck chair and an oar, and we took her aboard, but it was doubtful
how long we could remain afloat, so one man took the can I spoke of and
pushed off on his own account.
At last, at 6.10, after four hours in the water, the trawler took us
in. We were stiff and cold, and went down to the engine room to dry
our clothes. We were tended with the greatest care by the crew. It
was an experience no man would like to face again, and those who went
through it will have a lasting memory of its horror. Why, I remember
on the voyage over remarking that I never saw so many babies and young
children on any ship.