SAVE ALL WHO DARE THE EAGLE’S FLIGHT
Chapter Fourteen

Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!

You must know by now that the night I am speaking of was the night of April fourteenth, the last night of the Titanic. A few other survivors and I can rarely bring ourselves to speak of it. I warn you that this is not easy for me. I have had to set aside a whole morning that I know for certain will not be interrupted to write about it, but I doubt that this will give sufficient time. I apologize for my rambling; I haven’t spoken of the Titanic with a stranger in years.

When I awoke, it was because a steward knocked the door wide open, flicked on the unmerciful light, and shoved the lifebelts off of the top of the cabinet they were kept on. "Everybody up, lifebelts on!" he shouted in a no-nonsense, very English accent. And just as quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared, leaving the door ajar so that we heard stewards shouting the same instructions to other passengers up and down the corridor. I sat straight up in bed, blinking and groaning and hating the steward who had roused us. And then his words finally caught up with me. "Everybody up, lifebelts on." My immediate thought was, What the hell?

"What? What’s he on about?" Bert asked sleepily, shielding his eyes from the light. Out in the hall, I heard Eugene ask, "What’s all the ruckus?"

"Just put your lifebelts on!" a steward snapped.

I ran a hand through my hair and groaned. "What is he talking about? Lifebelts…what?"

Eugene and Maggie Daly poked their heads in, causing me to pull the bed sheets up to my shoulders; comfortable as I was with the Dalys, who were currently in their night things, I wasn’t about to forgo all modesty.

"What’s goin’ on?" Eugene asked us, hand still entwined with Maggie’s.

"I haven’t the foggiest; steward came in here and told us to get up and put our lifebelts on," Emmy explained.

The Dalys glanced at one another, worry clear in their expressions.

"Well, that’s worth lookin’ into, ‘tis," Eugene declared.

"I’ll go with you," Bert volunteered, rolling out of bed and pulling on his slippers and robe. "We’ll come back as soon as we find out what in blue blazes is going on."

"I’ll go wake up Bertha," Maggie offered, reaching up to kiss Eugene on the cheek before exiting. Eugene and Bert left a moment later, determined looks on their faces. The moment they were gone, I locked the door and pulled off my nightgown.

"Angie, what on earth are you doing?" Emmy asked me, tying her robe.

"They told us to get our lifebelts on; that’s not a good sign," I explained, shimmying into my drawers. I was freezing with next-to-nothing on. I hurriedly pulled on my tattered chemise that had seen far better days.

"But Bert and Eugene said they would find out what was the matter—I think we should wait until they come back," Emmy protested, watching as I stepped into my skirt.

"Emmy, I’ve been on a fair number of ships, and putting on a lifebelt can only mean one thing," I warned her, fastening the buttons. I didn’t want to outright say we were sinking for Cora’s sake, but I had to impress the gravity of the situation on Emmy. I had never been on a sinking ship before, but I knew that sinking was the only thing on a ship that called for lifebelts.

"But how do you know it’s not just a drill?" Emmy persisted even as I put my arms through the sleeves of my blouse.

"Emmy, it’s…well, I’m not sure what time it is," I admitted, rapidly buttoning my blouse, discovering that I had buttoned it the wrong way, and buttoning it again, "but it’s far too late in the night for a drill!"

"Yes, but we’re all in our cabins, aren’t we?" Emmy kept at it, unwilling to accept the truth. "Isn’t that the best time for a drill, when everyone’s where they ought to be?"

I sighed, pulling my hair out of the collar of my blouse. "Emmy, listen to me--I know about drills. They tell you about drills; the stewards go around to make sure everyone gets the message—at a normal hour, mind you—and then they demonstrate the proper use of a lifebelt and explain the lifeboats and answer questions for the rich folks. They don’t barge into your cabin and tell you to put on your lifebelt before hurrying away."

Emmy bit her lip. "I…I don’t know about that."

I bit back an annoyed growl as I fell onto Cora’s bunk to pull on my stockings. This was the first time I had ever found myself impatient with Emmy—it was also the last. "Emmy…look, I know this is hard to accept, but…can’t you hear the noise in the hall? We have to get a move on, and fast, because we don’t know what all is happening."

"Angie, what’s going on?" Cora asked from behind me as I secured the garters and grabbed my shoes.

"The ship is sinking, Cora," I said, lacing up my left shoe.

"But it can’t sink," she said as if explaining something to a petulant child.

"It’s a ship—of course it can," I said, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice; she was young and she didn’t understand. "Your daddy will tell you the same, I’m sure."

"Angie, love, are you certain?" Emmy asked with a great deal of trepidation.

I looked up at her then, pausing in the process of lacing up my right shoe. "Honestly? I can’t say. But I have never heard of any other occasion for lifebelts. Better to be safe than sorry, or so they say." I finished the shoe and got to my feet. "I’m going to the main stairwell; there has to be someone there who knows what’s going on."

"Well, put this on, then," Emmy said, holding out a lifebelt after I had wrapped myself up in my raggedy coat that still carried dirt from every city I had ever slept in.

I smiled thinly at her and accepted it. I fumbled with the ties and finally gave up. Emmy promised to meet me at the main stairwell later, and I left my cabin for the very last time.

The other passengers were already in the hall, cramped and crowded and calling to each other in foreign tongues while pulling lifebelts and coats over an odd assortment of clothes. A steward knocked me to the side as he went through the mass, stuffing lifebelts into people’s faces and barking at them to put the cork devices on.

"Excuse you," I muttered, rubbing my sore arm and pushing my way through.

"Angie!"

I looked up to see Bert and Eugene making their way towards me, having a time trying to squeeze through the throng.

"Bert! Eugene!" I called back, pushing until I was right before them.

"I’m gonna go on and tell the girls," Eugene said, moving around Bert and wading his way through the people.

"Did someone come tell you already?" Bert asked, nodding at my apparel.

"Oh, no, I just had…a premonition, was all," I explained. "Bert, are we really sinking? I mean…what happened?"

Bert looked pained as he nodded. "Yes. We’re going down. Your Italian friend, Fabri, he said that they all felt a shudder and then there was water in the cabins."

I gasped. "So soon?" That could not be good. The more water, the sooner we would go down.

Bert nodded slowly. "Yes. And they’re keeping steerage down below until the upper classes get out."

I swore under my breath, but Bert didn’t look at all surprised.

"Where are Emmy and Cora?"

"They’re still in the cabin, waiting for you."

"Move along, now, you’re holding us up!" someone shouted at us.

"Sorry!" I called over my shoulder. I put a hand on Bert’s arm. "I’ll see you all later, all right?"

"Yes, we’ll be there in a mo’," Bert agreed. We scooted past each other and continued our separate ways down the corridor. Some people protested when I pushed past them, but I paid them no heed; if they wanted out, they would have to push like me. Finally, I practically stumbled into the main stairwell. It seemed like everybody and his brother was gathered there and I groaned; this would take forever.

"Angie!"

I turned to see who was calling my name for the second time that night to see the McFarlands. They were dressed up all warmly and looking ready to board the lifeboats.

"Mommy says we’re waiting for the first class people to get into the boats, and then we can go, but we have to be all ready first," Timmy explained.

I glanced up and met Kathleen’s eye; she knew just as well as I did that this was not supposed to happen. Surely they couldn’t lock all of us down here! "Mommy’s exactly right," I lied. "It won’t be much longer. Don’t worry."

"That’s right; you’ve been on loads of ships before, haven’t you, Angie?" Nora asked excitedly.

I smiled, trying to sound as if this was very normal and nothing for them to get upset over. "Yes, I have. They’ll let us out soon enough. You’ll see. Have you seen Fabrizio?"

"Yes, he’s over there," Nora chirped, pointing. Sure enough, Fabrizio’s black head was bobbing over the crowd, craning to look up at the gates where a great deal of men were shouting at a pug-faced steward.

"I’m just gonna go talk to him for a minute; I’ll be right back," I promised. They nodded and I waded past a few people until I was beside Fabrizio.

"Angie!" he exclaimed, hugging me. I returned the gesture, glad to see part of the only family I had ever really had. He was standing with the Dahls, all three of whom were bedraggled and confused.

"How bad is it?" I asked as soon as we had pulled away.

Fabrizio hesitated.

"Don’t you dare keep a thing from me," I warned him. "Bert said he talked to you; said you said that water flooded into your cabin."

Fabrizio nodded, his expression dark. "Sì, there was a lot of a-water. There was a…a shaking. I got out of the bunk and there was water on the floor. The Gundersons were a-saying something and when I a-opened the door, water was all down-a the hallway, up to our a-feet, and Tommy came a-running and told us to a-get out of there. So we got a-dressed and a-followed the rats down a-here. That is where I saw a-Bert."

I bit my lip. I glanced around at the surrounding crowd, seeing some half-familiar faces and some faces that were not familiar at all. "And…where is everyone else? Jack, Tommy, the Gundersons…"

"I have a-not seen Jack all night, but he’s a-probably on deck with-a Rose. He’s a-safe, Angie."

I nodded, hoping that wherever Jack was, he was safe. Even if it meant that he was with Rose. "Okay…and the others?"

"The Gundersons went down a-that way," Fabrizio explained, pointing down the corridor to the right. "Tommy is a-up there." I looked up at where the white-clad steward was snapping at the crowd and saw Tommy’s curly head, back to us. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him sooner; his distinctive Irish accent was bellowing loudly over the crowd. He was using some rather colorful language, I might add, and it almost made me feel better.

"That bastardo will not a-let anyone go, not even the a-women and children," Fabrizio explained bitterly. "If he keeps us down here much a-longer, we will all a-die!"

When you say something to people who have not fully woken up, it usually takes a moment or two for them to comprehend it. Something similar happened to me. It was as if I had been in the process of waking up and I was only just now realizing that the Titanic was sinking. I had had enough sense to get dressed and urge Emmy and Cora to get going, but it seemed that I only now understood that the ship was going down, that if we were kept down here much longer we might very well die. My fears were not completely unwarranted; I would later find out that many of the people who had been locked below would die.

And, like a big baby, I started to tear up. I turned my head away from Fabrizio and the Dahls and swiped hurriedly at the tears forming in my eyes. I knew perfectly well that I couldn’t hide it from Fabrizio, and sure enough, he put a brotherly arm around my shoulders, squeezing me and knocking me slightly into his ribs.

"Aw, don’t a-cry, Angie," Fabrizio tried comforting, his voice low. "You’ll be a-fine. You’re a girl; you’ll a-get out safe."

Poor, poor Fabri. He tried, at least—that much can be said for him. But let’s face it; Fabrizio still had a thing or two to learn about properly comforting young ladies, especially when they’re teenage girls who are nervous enough as it is. I choked on a sob I had been trying to repress and coughed, sniffling and swiping at my tears. "I just…oh, I don’t know…" I said in frustration.

I know that Fabrizio was feeling awkward, as would any other man in his position, so I was unsurprised when he cast around for something else to talk about. "Angie…your lifebelt!"

"What about it?" I sniffled, feeling rather stupid at that point.

"It is not a-fastened," he said indignantly, stooping slightly to firmly secure the ties for me. We had had drills for this sort of thing plenty of times on various tramp steamers and Fabrizio had always been very adept at securing his lifebelt. I think his record time for the whole thing was around thirty seconds. I believed it; he was finished before I could finish saying, "Oh."

"Don’t you have one?" I asked. I was sure there were enough lifeboats, but still, we had always been warned in the past to take as many precautions as necessary.

He shook his head. "No, but I don’t a-mind; there are still a-women and a-children who need a-them more than I. Besides, I am a very good a-swimmer!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, because I’m sure you’ll be able to swim from here to New York."

"It is a-my destino to go to America, Angie, and I will a-get there somehow, even if I a-have to swim!" Fabrizio insisted, looking relieved that I was no longer crying.

"It isn’t time to go up to the boats yet!" the steward shouted. "Please stay calm!"

"How’re we supposed ter stay calm when yeh won’t bleedin’ let us out?!" Tommy roared.

"How long has he been up there?" I asked Fabrizio, watching Tommy rattle the gate.

"All a-night," Fabrizio sighed. "He only makes the man a-mad."

I chewed the corner of my mouth. "Hold on a minute," I finally instructed, pushing my way through the crowd on the stairs. I was met with more than a few protests, to which I innocently replied, "Well, he said women to the front!"

"Angie," Tommy noted in surprise, nodding his head at me as I finally squeezed in beside him.

I nodded at him in return before turning to the steward. "Excuse me, sir?"

"I’m sorry, miss, but it isn’t time to go up to the boats yet," the steward said promptly, not even looking at me.

"I know that, thank you," I said between clenched teeth. "What I would like to know is why? Standard naval procedure dictates that all women and children are to be let into the boats first; there is never any mention whatsoever in regards to class distinction."

Unfortunately, my fancy words were lost on the fellow. He wrinkled up his already pug-like face. "I, madam, take my orders from Mr. Ismay, the owner of the ship, who has had far more naval experience than you could have possibly had."

"I’ll also wager I’ve had more naval experience than you have," I retorted hotly; I didn’t even bother to add that the owner of a ship probably knew far less than anyone who had ever acted as an honest sailor. Add that to my knowledge now, and I know for a fact that I could have handled the lifeboat situation better than J. Bruce Ismay did--I could never allow the owner of the bloody ship onto a lifeboat when whole families perished that night. "The ship is sinking—"

"It’s not sinking, it’s a drill," the steward corrected.

I stared at him for a moment and realized that he actually believed it was only a drill. I almost felt sorry for the poor guy. Almost. And then I remembered that he was locking all of us below decks where death was a certainty if we were kept here much longer. "Sir, the bow of the ship is flooding—"

"Don’t try tellin’ him, Angie," Tommy spat. "Bloody bastard won’t listen."

"I’ll have you for this, I will!" the steward said childishly. "I-I’ll make sure you never sail with the White Star Line again!"

"I won’t be sailin’ anywhere if yeh keep us down here much longer!" Tommy snapped. "And supposin’ I do live, I’d never sail on a line that hires arses like you!"

"Shut up!" the steward whined. It was obvious that Tommy had been pestering the fellow all evening and he was finally growing tired of it. "I will not shirk my duties!"

"Oh, aye, because leavin’ yer passengers ter die isn’t shirkin’ yer bloody duties at all!" Tommy spat.

"When can we go up?" I asked loudly, interrupting the steward just as he was preparing to reply.

His face puckered up again. "When the first and second class ladies have loaded the boats. Are you deaf as well as stupid?"

"She’s a fine sight better’n you!" Tommy growled. "Let us out!"

"Not yet!"

I growled as well. "Bastard. I’m going back down," I added to Tommy.

"Aye, since we won’t be let out anytime soon," Tommy said loudly, directing a meaningful scowl at the steward, who predictably puckered his face again.

I turned and squeezed my way back down the stairs, amid protests from the other passengers. ("Make up your bloody mind!" "Watch it, girl!")

"Well?" Fabrizio asked as soon as I had rejoined him.

"No such luck," I said dully. "Damned figlio di puttana."

Fabrizio smiled slightly at the last part.

"Do they understand?" I asked him, nodding at the Dahls.

He shrugged helplessly. "I do not a-know. They do not a-speak English; what can I do?"

I shrugged as well. I looked down as I felt a tug on my lifebelt and saw Timmy.

"Are they going to let us up soon?" he asked.

I forced a smile for his benefit and straightened his cap. "Yes, very soon. Just be very patient and listen to your mommy."

"I will," he promised, nodding solemnly.

"Timmy!" Kathleen was calling. Timmy darted past a few people and stood by his mother’s side, relating to her what I had just told him. Kathleen gave me a quick nod and I returned the gesture; the children must never know what we feared.

As I’ve said before, I’ve spent a fair amount of time on the sea. I’ve run through all the procedures for sinkings, hurricanes, storms, torpedo attacks, you name it. So I can safely say that I have never, ever heard of a case in which someone in a position of power would purposely tell a steward—who is supposed to be well-informed of any situation whatsoever, I might add—that a sinking was merely a drill and that he was to actually bar any passengers from safety until further notice. The Titanic was and still remains to this day the only exception. I did not know it then, but I would later find out that Mr. Ismay did not believe at first that his prize could sink, thus explaining the misinformed steward.

Nevertheless, I found it astounding that anyone was allowed to take such orders from a man who was not part of the crew at all. Then again, stewards know very little about nautical procedures; their lot in life is to serve the passengers. I suppose that Mr. Ismay, being a first class officer himself, had considerable precedence over the stewards in order to make his fellow passengers more comfortable. Or something like that; I was never a stewardess under the employ of J. Bruce Ismay.

"Angie!"

I felt as if I was being hailed from all over the place. I turned and spotted the Cartmells, all bundled up, making their way towards me. I returned the call and waved them over. They washed up beside me in a moment, looking breathless after their trip over here.

"Heavens to Betsy, where did all these people come from?" Emmy exclaimed, putting a hand over her heart.

"I forgot there were this many third class passengers on board," I admitted just as Tommy let out another snarl and shook the gates.

"What in the blue blazes is the lad doing?" Bert asked, furrowing his brow as he watched Tommy.

"That…idiot…won’t let any of us out yet. Something about we have to wait for the first and second class passengers before we go up to the boats. He thinks this is a drill," I explained, not bothering to keep the exasperation out of my tone.

"Was he knocked around in the head, or is he serious?" Bert asked rhetorically, shaking his head.

"He won’t budge; Tommy’s been at him ever since the collision," I said. "And I don’t think there are any other ways out; this is the main stairwell, and if this is blocked off, the others must be, too."

"Or you could be quite wrong about that," Bert said thoughtfully after a moment.

"What?" I asked, frowning.

"Well, I only mean to say…as this is the main stairwell, this is where everyone is sure to go first, yes?" Bert asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Well, yes, I guess," I replied, shrugging.

"Bert?" Emmy asked, seeing the determination in his eyes.

"I have a feeling that there might be other, open ways," Bert explained. "The further away from the stairwell, the better chance we have, in my opinion."

"You might be right," I said slowly. "But…I don’t know…something tells me to stay here."

"I have an idea," Emmy piped up. "Bert, Cora, and I will go down the corridors and look for a way out. If we find one, we’ll scamper back here and tell you, all right, Angie dear?"

"Oh, are you sure?" I asked, twisting the fabric of my coat. "It’s just, if you have a way out, I don’t wanna impede you or anything; you need to get out…"

"Angie, we won’t leave you here to…well, to meet your fate," Emmy said firmly.

"Yes, but he might let us out soon," I said, gesturing lamely at the steward. It was bullshit and I knew it, but I would have hated to have been the cause of them not getting to a lifeboat.

"He might and he might not," Emmy conceded. "We’ll come back for you regardless, all right?"

I bit my lip and then nodded. "All right. Thank you," I added.

"Why aren’t you coming with us, Angie?" Cora asked, eyes wide.

I ducked down until I was at her height. "Because, Cora, I…Fabrizio’s here, and he’s like my brother. I can’t leave him. They won’t keep us down here forever; I’ll get out. Don’t you worry. You just be a good little girl and hold Mummy and Daddy’s hands and listen to them, all right?"

She nodded. "Okay."

I smiled and hugged her; she was warm and soft and felt like a doll in my arms. She returned the gesture enthusiastically and even kissed me on the cheek. I’ve never forgotten it, ever; it was one of the last acts of compassion I was to face that night. I kissed her cheek in return, rose back up, clasped hands with Bert and Emmy and then we wished each other the best of luck before going our separate ways.

It was to be the last time I would ever see them.

Chapter Fifteen
Stories