LUSITANIA OUTRAGE

Waipa Post, Volume 48, Issue 3468, 19 May 1934, Page 8

LUSITANIA OUTRAGE

ANNIVERSARY OF TORPEDOING THE CAPTAIN’S STORY A few minutes after two o’clock on a glorious spring afternoon 19 years ago on Monday, the Canard liner Lusitania sank with a gaping hole in her side off the south coast of Ireland. Only 18 minutes passed from the time she was struck by a torpedo from a German submarine until her masts disappeared, and 1195 of her passengers and crew lost their lives. One man who knew the truth about that terrible sea tragedy recently broke his silence. He was Captain W. T. Turner, who was in command of the doomed liner. For three years he had been an invalid, and as he lay in bed at Great Crosby, near Liverpool, he told a vivid story of the Lusitania’s end. “First,” he said, “read this. I wrote it years ago.” It was an old ship’s log. In bald sentences it gave this simple history of the facts: Arrived in New York April 23rd, 1915. During the time in New York the Germans put in the papers a warning to passengers not to go in the ship as she would be torpedoed. Arriving in the Irish Sea, off Kinsale, at 2.10 p.m., May 7th, 1915, ship was tropedoed and sank.... “Yes,” Captain Turner went on, “all the time we were in New York warnings kept coming to me that my ship would be caught by the submarines. Even the Admiralty sent word that we should have to take the g’reatest care because of the threats. Gaping Hole “Most of the passengers were still in the dining-room at 2.10 p.m. on 7th. I was on the bridge, looking forward to getting a decent sleep when I reached Liverpool. “Then, from out of the empty sea came that one messenger of death. There was no warning. “I did not see anything, although some passengers said later that they saw a submarine’s periscope just before we were hit. The torpedo caught us amidships.

“The 32,000-ton ship quivered and slowly healed to starboard. Officers on the bridge turned to me. No one spoke. A hole had been torn in our side large enough for a tramway car to pass through, and the water just rolled in. “Then someone moved. I turned to the telegraph and my officers went away to their jobs. The watertight doors were closed, and messengers sped to calm the passengers. Like lightning the lifeboats on the starboard side were manned.

“In the steerage there was a panic. Officers had to rush and fight to keep the ways clear. “Then, from every companionway there burst an endless stream of passengers. The boat deck was crammed with a silent crowd — mothers and fathers clasping their little ones, sons searching for their parents, and sweethearts clinging to each other, all wide-eyed with terror. *

Frayed Nerves Give Way

“The ship sank lower and lower. More boats got away. But still the deck was black with people. By this time frayed nerves were giving way, and terrible, hopeless confusion reigned.

“Hopelessly I tui’ned away. The waves seemed to jump on our decks. Soon it was all over. The whole ship seemed to he plucked away from my feet by a giant hand, and I found myself being dragged down into the depths. “It seemed an age before I broke the surface again, and what a ghastly sight met my eyes! “Hundreds of bodies were being whirled about among the wreckage. Men, women and children were drifting between planks, lifeboats, in an indescribable litter.

“The instinct to live kept me swimming until I was picked up by a lifeboat. Then I lay exhausted until destroyers came and rescued us.”