Part 1 (2/2)

The crew was busy with the boats, not lowering them yet, just preparing them. And then ahead of our station, a working detail of ratings panicked, racing to get a boat launched early, and I realized with a shock that they were intending to commandeer it.

My next thought was, Had they been down below, and did they know how bad it really was? Had they been down below, and did they know how bad it really was?

An officer was trying to deal with them, his voice hard and calming. ”There's no need to panic. Do your duty, d.a.m.n you, and your turn will come!”

I thought it was my friend Browning, but there was tension and anger in the voice as well, changing its timbre. Not encouraging, surely.

Behind me Dr. Brighton joined the queue. He was an older man, a very good doctor, and unflappable. I'd watched him in the operating theater. He noted the scarf around my arm. ”What's this?”

I saw that blood was seeping through the pretty pattern of lilacs. ”A cut,” I told him, unwilling to admit to more.

He began to unwind the scarf, then saw for himself what lay beneath. Rewinding it more efficiently, he confided to me in a low voice, ”I don't think it's a good idea to go below for something to stabilize that bone. The portholes on E and F decks are still open, worst luck, and there's no chance of closing them now. We'll sink fast if the watertight doors are damaged.”

”Where was the explosion?” I asked as quietly, striving to keep my arm steady as he worked. ”Starboard side, I think, near the bow-not far from where I was sitting.”

”Yes. Bartlett has just sent a distress signal. Meanwhile, damage reports are still coming in. They aren't good.”

The s.h.i.+p was turning now, toward Kea in the distance, but I wasn't sure we could make it. Something didn't feel right about Britannic Britannic-she seemed heavier. I'd sailed in her often enough to recognize a difference. I prayed it was only my imagination running away with me.

Dr. Paterson, nearer the rail, called to Dr. Brighton. ”They're using the screws to turn, not the rudder. I don't think that's a good sign.” Dr. Brighton finished tying up my arm and then hurried over to join him, staring down into the water.

How many of these people can swim? For that matter, could I, with this arm?

That thought flashed through my mind as I watched the crew at their work as they readied the great arms of the lifeboat launching system.

Everyone knew the drill, but no one had believed it would ever be necessary. Five voyages into the Mediterranean, with no trouble. That had given us a false sense of security.

I watched one of the younger seamen fumble the ropes, and an older rating swore at him to mind what he was about.

Browning was by my side, saying, ”I don't like the look of that arm, Miss Crawford. Ask someone to help you into a boat, if the time comes.”

I turned. ”Does anyone know what happened? I'd swear Britannic Britannic seems sluggish, as if she's taking on water.” seems sluggish, as if she's taking on water.”

He didn't answer me directly. ”U-boat. Mine. Does it matter?”

”Are we sinking? Is this a precaution or real?”

”d.a.m.ned real,” he said tightly, and was gone.

There was a nurse just up ahead with bruises on her face. Someone had tied an impromptu bandage around her head, and already the blood was seeping through. Serviettes from the dining room? They gave the woman a rakish air, and I wanted to laugh.

No, that's hysteria. Stop it, I warned myself. I warned myself.

The Irish nurse had come up beside me, trying to edge her way up the queue. Her face was so pale the freckles across her nose stood out. ”I don't like the water,” she was saying, ”I'd rather take my chances here here-”

I put a hand on her shoulder. ”Don't be silly, Eileen. If anything happens, the lifeboats are the safest place for us to be.”

Eileen froze, fear stark in her eyes. ”Then it's true, we're sinking-”

I could hear shouting now, and saw that Harry d.y.k.e, one of the officers, was looking up at the p.o.o.p deck, where firemen from below were trying to launch a lifeboat for themselves.

”You fools!” he yelled. ”Stay onboard-we're trying to beach her-”

But they were frantic to be gone, and without waiting for orders or other pa.s.sengers to join them, they launched anyway.

”Stay away from the s.h.i.+p,” d.y.k.e was shouting to them now. ”And for G.o.d's sake, try to pick up any of the crew who've already jumped!”

Surprised, I turned to look at the sea and could see bobbing heads treading water, those who hadn't waited for a boat to be lowered. From the look of them, they were already tiring. The water was November cold, after all, in spite of the sun's warmth.

Eileen fled before I could stop her.

The firemen were paying no heed, but I thought they'd heard d.y.k.e. I saw one reach out an arm to drag a swimmer inboard.

Then the third officer, Lawes, was trying to prevent two of his boats from automatically launching. So far the Abandon s.h.i.+p signal still hadn't been given. We were all at our stations, worried and waiting for instructions. None came. I eyed the distance to Kea. Could we make it that far, wounded as we were? Or was the submarine lurking nearby, watching, ready to try another shot if it looked as if we'd be successful? I s.h.i.+vered at the thought.

I saw that Lawes was too late-the boats dropped to the water with such violence that spray swept the side of the s.h.i.+p. By a mercy, both stayed upright. To my surprise, Eileen was in one of them.

Britannic was listing now, it wasn't just my imagination, and it was harder to understand why the Captain hadn't ordered the boats away. I could appreciate how the pa.s.sengers on was listing now, it wasn't just my imagination, and it was harder to understand why the Captain hadn't ordered the boats away. I could appreciate how the pa.s.sengers on Britannic' Britannic's sister s.h.i.+p, t.i.tanic, t.i.tanic, must have felt in the cold darkness of the North Atlantic. At least here there was daylight- must have felt in the cold darkness of the North Atlantic. At least here there was daylight- Someone behind me was pus.h.i.+ng hard, eager to be nearer the lifeboat, as if afraid she'd be left behind. She jostled my right arm, and I felt faint from the stab of pain.

I stepped back, letting her have my place, then sat down on the deck, lowering my head, swallowing hard. Nausea was there, all too close to the surface, dizzying in its intensity. I hadn't realized that a break in a bone could be so exquisitely painful. I'd feel a greater tolerance for the wounded after this.

One of the other nurses came to bend over me, and then we heard people shouting and screaming a warning. I managed to get to my feet and turn to look over the railing.

The two boats from Lawes's station were in trouble, and Bartlett was bellowing to them through the loud-hailer. ”Mind the screws, d.a.m.n it!”

I stood there, unable to turn away, as one of the lifeboats caught in Britannic' Britannic's wake was being dragged inexorably back toward our three propellers, already partly out of the water, their great bra.s.s wings s.h.i.+ning wet in the sun as they went round.

Like everyone else along that rail, I cried out in horror, staring down at the frightened, helpless faces turned first up to us and then back toward the stern. There was nothing that anyone could do. No way to stop what was about to happen. In what seemed to be slow motion, but must have been only a matter of seconds, the first boat was swept into the screws. The sound of wood rending reached us. Screams echoed across the water, and then there was silence.

I don't think anyone on the s.h.i.+p moved.

Wood debris and torn bodies churned into the b.l.o.o.d.y wake.

I felt sick. In five sailings with severely wounded onboard, I had never seen anything quite so terrible. The image stayed with me, repeating itself over and over again.

Dr. Paterson, swearing like a trooper, raced toward the stern, looking over into the water for survivors.

The Abandon s.h.i.+p alarm was sounding now, and I realized that while we'd been absorbed by the drama on the water, Britannic' Britannic's list had increased alarmingly. Someone came up to me, cursing me, telling me to get into one of the lifeboats before it was too late to lower them.

It was Lieutenant Browning, harried and angry, his expression a mask of duty but his mind already leaping ahead to what we were about to face.

It was the last thing I wanted to do now-leave this s.h.i.+p. I could see other boats in danger of the same fate as the first one. It would be better to drown than to face those churning blades. But when I turned, drawn to stare at them, I was surprised to see that the screws were barely moving, that someone had ordered all engines stopped. It was then I knew with cold certainty that we were sinking.

<script>