ECHOES OF THE WAR AT SEA

Otago Daily Times, Issue 17693, 2 August 1919, Page 10

ECHOES OF THE WAR AT SEA

THE TRAGEDY OF THE ALNWICK CASTLE. A TERRIBLE ORDEAL. (By E. F. Knight, in the London Morning Post) Alnwick Castle, tinder the command of ■ >apt am Chave, outward bound for the Capo, was torpedoed when she was about 320 miles W.S.W. of the Sc ; lly Isles, and at about the same distance from the nearest l-oint on the Irish coast and from Cape xinistc-rre. In that week the German submarines were exceptionally busy, and sank no fewer ilian 55 of our ships. On the day previous to her own disaster the Alnwick Castle had picked out of their boats 25 of the crew of the collier-transport Trevose, which had been, torpedoed a few hours Parlier; and the captain of the Trevose reported that while he was drifting in his boat he hid seen another steamer blown up in the distance. The Alnwick Castle now had on. board 100 of her own crew, 14 passengers. and 25 survivors of the Trevose. SUNK IN TEN MINUTES.

At 6.10 on the following morning the lookout on the upper crow's nest reported the approach of a torpedo on the port bow. The chief officer saw it coming at right angles to the ship's course. He gave the order " Hard a'starboard," and rang "Full astern" to both engines. But before the ship had swung me torpedo had struck her; tlie explosion throwing up a high column of water and debris on the bridge and blowing up hatches and beams of No. 2 hatch. The ship was rapidly sinking by tho head, so Captain Chave ordered that she should be abandoned. He sent out a wireless S.O.S. signal, but there was no response to it. The 139 occupants of the ship, including the one woman passenger and her four-months old baby, were all got safely into the six boats, which were pulled to a safe distance, and there waited to see the end of the Alnwick Castle. Then the German submarine quietly rose to the surface, and remained there silent and sinister until the end came, her crew gazing with oallous eyes on the human beings whofn they were leaving, exposed in open boats, far out ap the Atlantic, in the stormiest season or* the year. In about 10 minutes the Alnwick Castle plunged down bow first; her whistle gave one blast, there was a smothered roar, and a cloud of debris rose in the air, and she was gone. It was decided to steer between cast and eastnorth, after a homeward-bound steamer, which was visible about four miles away. Soon the castaways heard a muffled roar, saw a tall column of water rise, and knew that the submarine had found another victim. During this Monday, the first d"av of the voyaging of these six boats, things wient well. There was a considerable swell, but there was only a moderate breeze blowing from the west. So the captain gave orders that the boats should steer between east and cast-north-east for the mouth of the Channel and the track of ships. The boats hoisted sail and ran before the wind in a line, and kept in touch with each other until the evening. But in the night the wind freshened and the sea nose; all sails had to be reefed down. Later in the night the fair wind with which they had started headed them and worked round to the north. It became intensely cold, and the wind ever increased in strength. By the following morning, in consequence of the heavy weather, the boats had scattered and were out of sight of each other; each boat found herself tossing along on an angry sea. Two of the boats were never heard of again. Day after day of misery passed by, but no vessel came to their succour. To quote the captain's words: "Never a sail or wisp of smoke had we seen. It was as though the German submarines had barred the ocean against all traffic. Exposure to wet and cold killed the weak, and then, after a few days, even the tiny rations of drinking water could not be issued, as tho supply was exhausted. Men went mad with thirst, and with throats on fire and lips furred it was impossible for any to swallow the solid food, of which there was a sufficiency. The seas washed into the boats, but men became so weak that it wis with difficulty that thsy could be prevailed upon to 'bale the water out It was not until five days after tho torpedoing of the Alnwick Castle that the 24 survivors of the oaptain's boat —five had died of thirst and exposure—were rescued •by the French steamer Venezia in tho Bay of Biscay, 1200 miles to the south-east of tho scene of the Alnwick Castle's disaster. It is needless to say that tho exhausted men were very well looked after by tho kindly French. Four of their dead they left in the boat, for they had been in too weak a condition to lower thess into the sea. EIGHT DAYS IN A LIFEBOAT. The other boats had similar experiences. The report sent in by tho chief officer should be read by thoss -who find excuses for German methods. His boat's company consisted of 31 people, including the woman passenger, her baby, and tho stewardess. They were eight days on the open sea, and so great wore the privations endured that 11 out of the 31 died. It is not surprising seeing that British sailors manned the boat, to hear that the wsakest there, the two women and the baby, were among those who were safely landed. On the morning of the second day out (Tuesday) the weather compelled the chief officer to take in all sail and lie to with tho sea anchor, while oars were usod to help keep the boat head on to the tremendous soa that was running. The oil bag proved of great service in quieting the high breakers. The ssa anchor was lost in the night, so two oars, ■were lashed together to be used in its place. On Wednesday morning the weather improved, so sail was sot again, and the boat was steered east towards the Spanish coast. A half dipper full of water was doled out to each parson in tho morning and evening. The Alnwick's chef died this day of cold and exposure Sailing whenever tho weather allowed, and lying to when the wind btew hard, the boat progressed from day to day. On Thursday tho storekeeper, who had gono raving mad and had to bo lashed down for the safety of the others, died. Later in tha day one of the passengers succumbed. That night heavy squalls* compelled tho chief officer again to take in sail and put out the ifnprovised saa anchor. On Friday the wind having moderated, though a high sea was still running, full sail was set and was kept up for 36 houri, tho boat making good progress. Throughout this terrible voyage tire chief officer, the carpenter, a quartermaster, and a fireman did all the steering between them. This day another of the crew died. Owing to the small ration of water that could be allowed, all were suffering from intense thirst. From thirst and from exhaustion and exposure to cold and wet, even tho strongest of the crew who 'were still ab'o to work were rapidly becoming callous and often felt light-headed. On tho morning of Saturday one of tho firemen was found lying dead at the bottom of tho boat, and in the coursc of tho day the pantry boy died. That night the boat drifted with sail down ; for it was very dark, and there were no stars visible bv which to steer. On Sunday, at dawn, tho sail was hoisted again, and the boat resumed her coursc, heading 5.13. A man who had been insane for two days jumped overboard (after thres frustrated attempts) and was drowned. Tho high sea and the enfeebled state of the men made it impossible to save him, though tho boat was turned and sailed round the spot where he had disappeared. On this morning tho last tot of water was served out— not moro than a mouthful each. Th«re wero occasional showers of rain after this to tantiliso the occupants of the boat. A little of tho rain was caught, but it was tindrinkable, so saturated with salt was overy-

tiling on board. To quote the words of the chief officer's report: "We -even tried oy licking the woodwork to gather up the raindrops, and so moisten our mouths, i ? , c< . )ntmua l spray coming over actual I K i' S y tt '° uso - In fact, we to Hr - V ° U F the water-beaker in order ? " insK '° °f the staves, which wo us deli?!* /f xt " rat< i d with moisture, and" to dfed. In the cvcninfr the deck b °y LAND AT LAST. rliT f(. Sailcd all that ni "sht. and on MoncH. afternoon, to their great joy, they sighted land. But it proved to be a lon»- ° and tl WaS dark W i hen they 031116 "P to it, and there was so heaw a swell runK + J ° fficer that i!L r too, dangerous to attempt a . nchns until taylight. A squall now carThov ay i J 3O3 * s . mast at the heel. ihe> then hove-to, using the broken mast and awaited daylight,' greatly disappointed, for they had hoped to vet 1* -ur v ' an , d now had to pass dntlf<Z fi 1 ' hor " ble nighfc in the boat. At + ,P CX I m o™ing (Tuesday) they towards the shore as well as they i but soon found that thev had 1, n S i° DB . to , u ? dor so any exertion, ut, happily, thev had been seen, and two i? a r S i Camfi , out , and towed them into S„ e ' fisl ? ln S harbour of Carino. near Cape Ortegal. Ine villagers, headed br their Priest, met them on the beach, and earned the survivors, who were in a pitiable condition, to the different cottages. On© man expired as he was being lifted out of the boat, and two demented men refused to leavethe boat, and had to be dragged ?'i , lle P rie st, a doctor (who arrived later from Forrol), and the Spanish villagers tended them with an exceeding kind • ne3s . and care. Ten days later,- when the survivors were well enough to be removed they were taken to the hospital at Ferrol. One thing stands out clear in the tragic story of tlip Alnwick Castle. In all the boats the officers worked magnificently, encouraging the thirst-tortured survivors and maintaining, even in those awful conditions the discipline that enabled the boats to be handled properly, the drinking water to bo rationed, and other measures" to be taken which made it possible to save so large a number of lives. The officers sr>°ak in the highest terms of the men who worked under them, and that the men apDreciato the that saved them is illustrated j'y the following incident:—An officer who had been in charge of one of these boats, Oh reaching homo, found a case of pipes awaiting him, a present from his boat's crew—a graceful act that speaks for itself.