SEA DRAMA

Wairarapa Times-Age, 9 April 1940, Page 9

SEA DRAMA

TORPEDOED BRITISH LINER I — | LIFEBOAT HORROR. TIED TO SINKING SHIP. When the British liner Yorkshire was torpedoed in the North Atlantic 28 people lost their lives. A thrilling story of the disaster and the rescue of 228 survivors was written by a young officer in the British Army who is a nephew of Lady Diana DuffCooper. A vivid picture of human emotions in the face of calamity, it was first printed in ‘’Time." and is as follows:— Seamen are traditionally superstitious folk, and so I was not unduly disturbed by Dickson’s pessimistic face as we sailed out of Algeciras Bay on Friday, October 13. Dickson was a cabin steward aboard S.S. Yorkshire, and I a passenger. "Never mind," said Dickson. "Bibby never lost a ship in the last war."

“MOST OF US INVALIDS." Most of us on board were invalids or personnel of the R.A.M.C. returning home from the East. We had on board a magnificent variety of interesting diseases and were usually talked about as if we were the diseases, instead of the unfortunate individuals suffering from them. I was “the Rheumatism.” 1 had been in bed for eight weeks, and although much better was still unable to walk, as my feet were affected.

Dawn on October 17 found us about 200 miles from land in the Atlantic with our head for home. After lunch I played a game of chess with the ship’s doctor, a Scotsman of about 70. "Aye. y’ve got ma rook.” and he advanced a pawn. I leaned forward to take the piece but my hand never reached it, for there was a sudden crash and the chessmen went flying across the deck. We had been torpedoed; the impossible had happened. I found myself on my feet for the first time in eight weeks. They gave beneath me. and I fell flat on my face, half in and half out of the saloon.

My lifebelt was under my chair, and I put it on from ground level. As I did so I looked back over my shoulder and saw a great red sheet of flame with smoky edges hanging in the sky above our stern.

I once more struggled to my feet, just in time to be thrown over by the second torpedo, which hit us amidships. . . Somebody said. “Put your arm around my neck," and we all trooped off. GIRL SWINGING OVER ABYSS. My boat station was Starboard 5. Near this boat station there was a companionway which leads over No. 3 hatch, and it was here that the second torpedo had struck us. The boards covering this hatch had been blown off by the force of the explosion, and there was a deep, yawning hole. Hanging by one hand to the corner of a tarpaulin and swinging over this abyss with kicking legs was a little I girl. She and two others had been playing on top of the hatch—the other two had . been killc ", I saw a soldier pull her to safety, and she was eventually saved. The Yorkshire was listing to star-| board, and something seemed to be wrong with the lifeboat, as it did not appear . . . And then, nt last, our boat came down. SEA SWEEPS ABOARD. The waves seemed to me to be nearer the deck, and in truth they were, for suddenly the sea seemed to gather itself together and come aboard us in a rush. Those standing around the boats were either swept, overboard or trapped between the two decks; those of us who were still on our feet struggled up the companionway and down on to the port deck. I staggered to the side on watery legs, straddled the tafl'rail and looked down. There was a boat in the water and several ropes leading down into it. These were, the lifelines and were fastened above to the boat deck. Halfway down one of these ropes was a woman in yellow, clinging to it like a monkey to a stick. A man with a red face was in the boat trying to help her in; he looked up; his mouth was open and his eyes looked like saucers.

BOWS REAR INTO THE AIR. The woman got off the rope and I slid down it. It must have been a 12ft drop, and the lifeboat was jumping to the swell. But my arms felt strong, and I landed right in the middle and scrambled to the side. Several more people came down. Then somebody shouted: "Trim the boat." Wo all echoed his words, but nobody did anything. And then in a desperate voice the same person shouted: "Cast off, for God's sake, she’s going." Dickson was in the bows and managed to free the falls from that end, but before the stern falls could be cut or cast off, the Yorkshire reared hetbows into the air and slid backward to the bottom. And we were still tied to her. I remember being pinned between the gunwale of the lifeboat and a' rope which was held taut across my chest. The davits were within a few feet. Beneath me was a tangled mass of ropes, oars, iron and foaming water. I saw the red-faced man disappear into this turmoil, and then I was in it myselt. There was a roar of rushing water, which almost, but not quite obliterated the noise of screaming . . . I did not go deep—it never became dark, but was always frothy. Hard things swept by me. I groped upward with my hands and kicked with my feet. I.remember thinking rather numbly: "I suppose they will see it. in ‘The Times.’" And then to my intense surprise I was on the surface, .spluttering, but otherwise feeling remarkably well. I came up within a foot of a life raft. And then a lifeboat appeared. RESCUE SHIP ARRIVES. Nelson, who was in charge, threw us a rope and wo made fast. At. length we were joined by four other lifeboats, which were towed by a small motor-boat. I was taken aboard a comparatively empty lifeboat, which, even so. was overladen. I did not realise how. And then we saw a light—only a pin-point—but definitely a light. It was a long way away, but it. looked good! We had some flares and these we lit. But it came no nearer. We

watched it for an hour or more and then it faded out of sight. Thon I think I must have slept —1 remember using two Lascars for a pillow, and thinking them an extremely good one —for when I looked up again there was the light, and this time it was bigger and closer. And then 1 saw that there were two lights. By God. that wtts a good sight! It was a ship, and coming toward us. Quite soon we were alongside, and it is impossible to describe the wonderful feeling that that ship gave us. She was an American freighter, the Independence Hall. The Independence Hall was three days out of Bordeaux, bound for New York. She had, by the grace of God. 80 beds in the hold. There were more than 300 of us in that hold. for. besides the survivors from the Yorkshire the crew of the City of Mandalay. another torpedoed ship, had already . been picked up. We were as tight as sardines in a tin, all mixed together in an indescribable hotch-potch of black and white bodies. But nothing mattered. We were safe.