268 LIVES LOST

Grey River Argus, 8 July 1943, Page 6

268 LIVES LOST

Sinking of Hospital Ship INTERVIEW WITH NURSE. SYDNEY, May 20. Further details of the sinking of the Australian hospital ship Centaur (3,000 tons), with the loss of 268 lives, reveal that she was torpedoed by an epemy submarine within sight of a Queensland coastal light, xhe Centaur sank so quickly that it was impossible to launch any of the lifeboats. ... . Those who survived were afloat on little groups of rafts and wreckage for 36 hours, thirsty and bitterIv cold. Heavy rain fell most of the time. Nearly all were scantily clad as they were in bed when the torpedo struck. Some were completely naked, their' night clothes having been torn off by the suction of the ship as they were dragged down witn her. Many of these were sunburned during the brief periods of sunshine. Many of the survivors displayed great heroism. Particularly, warm tributes were paid to Sister Eleanor Savage, of Gordon, Sydney, the omy surviving nurse, whose religious faith and cheerfulness did much to uphold the morale of those on the raft with her. It was not until after the rescue that she admitted that she had been in constant pain from broken ribs.

AWAKENED BY EXPLOSION. Sister Savage, who is pretty, with a dimpled smile and short, curly brown hair worn back from her forehead, -was interviewed in a military hospital. She displayed a black eye and cuts on her nose and lip. sister Savage, who wears a religious medal attached to her identity disc, said that she kept her Rosary beads beside her bed, and snatched them up when she was awakened by the explosion. “Mv ( first thought was to say a prayer that we might be saved, and that my friends might be saved, too.” she said. With her cabin-mate, she rushed to the porthole, looked out, and saw the ship ablaze. They raced for their lifebelts. Her best friend, Sister King, ran in from the next cabin, and called out, “Up on deck, Savage.” PLAN TO KEEP TOGETHER. Sister Savage said that she had been in the A.I.F. for two years this month, and while on the hospital ship Oranje, between Australia and the .Middle East, had oftened wondered what she would do if the snip were sunk, but, contrary to her expectations she did not panic. She and Sister King had planned to keep togther. Sister King was a poor swimmer, but she herself was a good one, and she had promised to look after her. In the confusion on deck, she tost Sister King. She and her cabinmate jumped overboard together, but her mate was struck by a piece of falling timber, and apparently killed. She managed to clamber on the floating roof of a charthouse with a badly burned man, and gave him what help she could. 'They worked their way toward two rafts, where there were other survivors, by paddling with their hands. These survivors were members of the crew and of the medical personnel. She took charge of the food and water and rationed them on a four days' basis.

DOCTOR'S GRAPHIC STORY. Lieutenant-Colonel Outridge, who was also interviewed in a military hospital, paid a warm tribute to Sister Savage. “She was wonderful,” he said. “She must have been in great pain all the time, but she never said a word about it. Her leadership was a great factor in keeping up the morale of her party. There could have been no possible doubt about the identity of the Centaur as a hospital shin,” said Lieutenant-Colonel Outridge. “She was lit up to glory, and there were big lights for and aft. It was a bright, starry night, and the whole ship, including the Red Crosses on the sides, had been repainted just before she sailed. It must have been clear from miles away that she was a hospital ship.” Lieutenant-Colonel Outridge was swathed in bandages covering his burns. He said that he was asleep when the torpedo struck, and awoke dazed. The explosion occurred only 60ft., from his berth. When he opened his eyes the cabin was a mass of flame. Even the lifebelts on the walls were on fire.

ENTANGLED IN ROPE. He stepped out into the swirl ot water in the ’tween decks, and was washed along to the forward com-panion-way. The ship was sinking rapidly, and in the deepening water his legs became entangled in a rope. He had great difficulty in freeing himself to make his way on deck. There he again became entangled in cordage from a mass of of broken booms and derricks, but managed to kick himself free. There was then only 30ft., of the deck showing above water, and he jumped overboard and struck out through the oil, which clogged his nostrils and made his eyes smart. A raft swept up to him on the swell. He climbed aboard and turned to look at the ship but she' had gone. Lieutenant-Colonel Outridge said he was in silk pyjamas, and he tore off the legs of them to dress his burns. A complete medical kit was picked up from the water by men on one of the rafts, and this enabled something to be done for those within reach. DYING BY INCHES.

One of the most vivid stories of the ordeal afloat was told by John Stutter, officers’ steward, of Perth, who said that he was too busy fighting for his life to feel frightened. He somehow fought clear of the suction of the sinking ship, and made for a raft. , “I spent the whole ot the time on the raft with a man who was so terribly burned that he was practical..'/, unrecognisable,” he continued. “He was in agony, dying by inches, and his screams were torture to us, because we could do nothing lor him. When he died it was a merciful relgo.se. “Stan Morgan, donkeyman, of Melbourne, Jim Waterson, assistant storeman, of Bassendean, Western Australia, with myself and two others gave him as reverent a burial as we could, all of us saying a little prayer to ourselves as we swung him out” on the swell. His body drifted away in the dawn, gradually sinking, while the rain pattered down on me sea.”