SAVE ALL WHO DARE THE EAGLE’S FLIGHT
Chapter Sixteen
Most Holy Spirit! Who didst
brood
Upon the chaos dark and rude,
And bid its angry tumult cease,
And give, for wild confusion, peace;
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!
When we spilled out onto the boat
deck, it was another one of the most confusing scenes I’ve ever witnessed.
Light, cheery music could be heard distinctly, and for a moment, I wondered if
I had lost all faculties. People were everywhere, some with lifebelts and some
without. The tilt of the ship was more pronounced up here, and I felt myself
stumble. The freezing cold air hit me so suddenly that I couldn’t breathe for a
moment; although my body was protected by my coat, my face and hands were left
exposed to the cold. There were some screams from hysterical women and the
shouts of officers and crewmembers; in general, it was close to pandemonium.
"The boats are gone!"
Rose cried in disappointment.
"Shit!" I hissed,
grabbing two fistfuls of hair in frustration. I couldn’t believe that we had
actually missed the boats! How could some of these people look so calm when all
means of escape was lost? We were going to die on this ship, and that stupid
band was playing music!
Jack ran to the railing and
climbed up onto it, looking around hurriedly for a boat. We were all standing
on the tips of our toes and craning our necks, swiveling around to see if we
might locate one of those boats. I didn’t understand—surely, I thought, there
had to be more. I knew that most ships didn’t have quite enough lifeboats for
all of the passengers, but there were usually still enough for most of them.
There were still so many people running about on the decks…and there were no
more boats that we could see.
"Oh God, oh God, oh
God," I moaned over and over.
Jack jumped down from his perch
and began to run off again when Rose stopped short in front of a man dressed in
his dinner clothes. I would later become better acquainted with this man, but I
had no way of knowing that at the moment. He had two ladies with him; at the
time, I had assumed them to be his wife and daughter or some other relation,
but I now know them to be Mrs. John Murray Brown and Miss Edith Evans, the
latter of whom did not survive. But that is a tale for another person to tell;
not me.
"Colonel, are there any
boats on that side?" Rose asked him, causing the rest of us to stumble to
a stop.
"No, miss, but there are a
couple of boats all the way forward. This way, I’ll lead you," he offered.
But we didn’t wait; we ran ahead,
our feet slapping against the hardwood deck as we went to find a lifeboat. As
we ran, we darted past the band that bravely played into the night. It was a
light, staccato tune that was meant to calm down the passengers.
"Music to drown by; now I
know I’m in first class!" Tommy joked.
"I don’t think this is the
best time for laughs!" I threw over my shoulder.
"Well, we won’t be laughin’
anymore tonight!" Tommy retorted.
He had a point there.
We came to a lifeboat that was
lettered with Number Two. They were loading what was left of the women and
children still on board, shouting for the men to keep back. It became so
anarchic that Officer Lightoller, who I would later learn was overseeing the
loading of that particular boat, shot a couple of bullets into the air to
restore order. "Women and children only!" he shouted. "Get
back!"
Lightoller has maintained a
reputation for his policy during the sinking--instead of women and children
first, it was women and children only. It’s said he almost didn’t allow John Borie
Ryerson on a boat because he was thirteen and didn’t look like a child. Of
course it was just our luck to get him. I didn’t want to part from Jack, Tommy,
and Fabrizio; they were my boys and I couldn’t leave them to die. I couldn’t.
And Rose…well, I can only assume she felt the same way about Jack. I almost
felt a camaraderie with her at that moment, even though we had never been
particularly close.
Jack turned to Tommy, Fabrizio,
and me. "You’d better check the other side."
We hesitated; what about Jack?
And what if there was no lifeboat on the other side; what would happen to us
then?
"Go!" Jack urged. I
assumed he knew what was best, so I turned to go with Tommy and Fabrizio. Jack
had never led us astray before.
Tommy led the way, pushing
through the crowd and leaving Fabrizio and me to tread in his wake. We almost
got separated a few times, and although I know it sounds childish, I grabbed
their hands so that I wouldn’t lose them. I couldn’t afford to lose anyone; not
now. And speaking of losing someone…
I stopped short. "Shit.
Shit, shit, shit!"
"What?" Tommy and
Fabrizio asked at the same time, stopping and turning to look at me worriedly.
"I left the McFarlands! I
promised I would go get them!" I exclaimed. I turned to run back
inside—all rational thought had left me.
"No!" they yelled, once
more in unison, yanking me back.
"Are yeh bloody
insane?" Tommy exclaimed. "Yeh can’t go back in there!"
"But…but they’ll die…"
I protested, floundering against their grips on me.
"Angie," Tommy said
shortly, grabbing my arms and shaking me until I stilled. "Yeh can’t go
back. Kathleen’s smart. She’s probably gotten the kids out by now. This ship
won’t be up fer much longer; we hafta get off. All right?"
I bit my lip and nodded. He was
right; if I went back down there, I would die for sure. I sent up a quick
prayer to God to help them before I slipped my clammy hands inside their
larger, calloused ones again and we set off once more for the other side. We
had to make our way through a tangle of people, in which we found the
Gundersons. I only caught a fleeting glimpse of them, however; Tommy had pulled
me on, and when I turned to find them again, they were gone. It heartened me to
know that at least they had gotten up to the deck.
On the other side of the deck, the
men had propped up oars against the promenade and were trying to
"ease" one of the collapsible Englehardts onto the deck. A distinctly
Scottish voice was shouting out orders while another officer was yelling,
"Women and children only, damn you!"
The collapsible came down with a
crunch, snapping most of the oars and stirring up some shouts of surprise. A
few men who had been helping with it up on the platform tumbled over, hitting
the bottom of the collapsible before rolling off of its smooth, unused surface.
"Get these davits cranked
in! Then get the falls hooked up!" the Scottish officer barked. I had
never seen davits like this before; they were a new type called Wellin davits
that no tramp steamer I had ever sailed upon had had. I later heard that some
of the crewmembers weren’t even sure how to use the davits; another
inefficiency of the White Star Line.
The Englehardt lifeboat was soon
swallowed up by a crowd comprised mostly of men. The crowd surged and pulsed,
alive and nervous. It seemed as if there were hardly any women left; I have no
idea where all of those women who perished could have disappeared to while
fathers and husbands and brothers and sons were denied life. The Scottish
officer and his colleague kept shouting orders at us, mostly "Stop
pushing!" and "Stay back!" And "Women only, no men!"
"You, miss, come
forward!" the British one commanded as soon as he had spotted me.
I turned to Tommy and Fabrizio.
"Get on with me."
"I’d like ter, lass, but
they won’t let us," Tommy reminded me.
I shook my head. "I don’t
want to get on alone. Please."
"There are other women,
Angie; you are not alone," Fabrizio tried to assure me.
"But what if you die?"
I exclaimed. "I don’t want you to die!" I continued, rather
childishly.
"We’ll be fine," Tommy
assured me. "Lass, yeh have to get on. Now."
I bit my lip before throwing my
arms around his neck and hugging him. I would have never, ever tried to hug
Tommy before, but under the circumstances, I felt it was permissible. I almost
cried when Tommy hugged me back; this man made out of piss and vinegar had
compassion. When he released me, I turned to Fabrizio. We practically squeezed
the air out of one another; he was truly like my brother. I could tell Fabrizio
anything and everything. He knew every single one of my secrets. I had trouble
enough parting with Tommy—Fabrizio was ten times harder to leave. We kissed
each other’s cheeks a few times, promising to see each other again in
"l’America" soon.
And then, I stepped out of the
crowd. I was snatched up immediately; the Scottish officer grabbed my arm and
led me rather forcefully to the boat. Two crewmembers held out their arms as if
to lift me over the edge and into the boat, but I ignored them and climbed into
the boat by myself; I was unaccustomed to being treated like a lady and I was
perfectly capable of doing it myself. I made sure I had a seat close to the bow
of the boat, facing Tommy and Fabrizio. They offered encouraging smiles and it
was all I could do to return the gesture; I did not want to leave them here.
Eugene actually made it into the
boat with Maggie and Bertha. They ordered him to go and he refused; finally,
the crewmembers had to take hold of him and hurl him back into the crowd. It
would have been humorous under different circumstances. I sat very still the
whole time, my hands in my lap, waiting for them to give the order that men
could get into the boat and for Tommy and Fabrizio to jump in beside me and we
would all live on together. I was so convinced it would happen that I wasn’t
ready for the reality of the thing.
"Stop pushing! Stay
back!" the Scottish officer bellowed.
"There are hardly anymore
women; why can’t you just let the men on?" some of us women shouted. We
were ignored—he would have none of it. He was being stupid—it was taking forever
to find women. What harm was there in allowing a man or two on the boat?
"Will yeh give us a chance
ter live, yeh limey bastard?" Tommy shouted at the Scottish officer.
"I’ll shoot any man who
tries to get past me! Get back!" the Scottish officer roared, holding up
his revolver as proof.
"Bastard!" Tommy
retorted, looking furious.
"Get back!" the
Scottish officer repeated, his hand quivering. He held the revolver with both
hands to steady it.
What happened next has stuck in
my mind for some time; I suppose because it made my blood boil and my heart
roar approval at the same time.
A wealthy man with slicked black
hair--which was falling into his face, I might add--and a dinner tuxedo still
on—albeit in a rather disheveled state—shoved his way to the front. He looked
like one of those Ivy-League graduates who played squash or had been on the
rowing team and took his holidays in Gstaad or some place that was equally
stuffy. "We had a deal, damn you!" he said haughtily to the Scottish
officer.
That was what made my blood boil.
I couldn’t believe that officers were so corrupt that they were actually
accepting bribes to let men live. It was so, so wrong. I felt ill, knowing that
this man who had struck a deal with such an arrogant stiff was responsible for my
life.
The Scottish officer, much to my
approval, pulled an enormous wad of cash out of his pocket and threw it at the
man. Bills scattered everywhere, so many that I swore under my breath. I know
that the only reason nobody grabbed them was because they knew they were most
likely going to die.
"Your money can’t save you
anymore than it can save me. Get back!" the Scottish officer snarled,
pushing the swell back into the throng.
That was what made my heart roar
approval. So the man had realized that money would be useless if he was dead.
The next part, however, changed
any advocating feelings for the officer I might have had. I don’t talk about
this often, but I feel that nothing should be spared here. It all happened so
quickly that I’m amazed I could keep up with it.
One man jumped up onto the davit
and attempted to jump into the boat. The Scottish officer--for I know not what
else to call him--shot the man in what I thought was the leg but was actually
his abdomen, causing him to crumple onto the deck. Eugene has testified that
the man was shot dead. Another man, also standing on a davit, lost his footing
and fell, inadvertently pushing Tommy forward. The officer shot him as well, a
blast of smoke clouding and then curling around a spot in his chest.
Tommy Ryan was dead before he hit
the deck.