SS Laconia U-Boat Attack From Both Sides [Part 1 KTB 170]
SS Laconia U-Boat Attack From Both Sides [Part 2 KTB 172]

Our pores closed up completely after a few days, and we did not perspire at all in spite of the intense heat. Our nails became brittle and broke easily. Many of us found our cuticles peeling away and our nails became very pale. After a few days we all became a little light headed and were unable to sleep, but dozed lightly and dreamed always of water – cool drinks, fruit…..and of rescue. I used to see all my friends’ houses with the refrigerator doors wide open and ice cold food and drinks ready to be taken, but always just out of reach. I saw the cups of tea I’d had in hospital, ice cream and ices coffees as I had so often enjoyed them in Palestine. I saw myself in Cairo with a glass of pineapple juice at Groppi’s, and ripe mangoes ready to be eaten, and once more came the cup of tea!

Over and over again, teasing and tormenting, like a movie show the scenes passed and re-passed. I thought of the water I had wasted, of the dripping taps. People were washing up and cleaning floors with precious life-giving water, unconscious of our need and our longing. If only………… Returning to consciousness after these light-headed wanderings, time and time again I thought, “Well, thank God it’s all a dream. I shall wakeup in a minute and find that it is not true.” And then I would feel the boat rocking, and I would sit up to find only miles and miles of sea and sky – and I knew it was no dream.

We became thinner daily and we were hollow-eyed. The men’s beards grew until they looked like pirates. All of us were insufficiently clad; only two having shoes and socks, and the sun and salt water rotted such clothing as we had. All our sore areas began to discharge pus after a few days and continued to discharge all the time. Many of us had salt water sores, septic fingers and toes, and many had boils. I had lost my glasses and the light was very strong, so my eyes became sore and discharged pus fairly freely from the end of the first week onwards. My back never ceased aching from the time of the explosion when the ship sank, and the floorboards made hard beds. I longed for a hospital bed with a pillow, a back rest and an air ring – and a massage.

We had no medical supplies at all – no dressings, no drugs, no stimulants and, as a nurse, I had never felt so helpless. We did what we could for each other, but we could do very little except by keeping cheerful and optimistic, and so helping to keep up morale. Doctor Purslow and I opened septic fingers and toes with a penknife, cleansed in seawater and tried to explain the important of not infecting each other.

Mary became a little weaker each day. She never suffered actually, but just faded and I knew that unless we were soon picked up, she must die. She spoke often to me of her family and her thoughts were constantly with her husband, fighting in the desert, or with her little sons awaiting her in the homeland. Never once did she allow the sorrow which must have been in her heart, to depress those around her and she kept her keen sense of humor all the time and I remember how, despite our desperate position, something would amuse us and, catching each other’s eye, we would laugh and then the men up forward would smile too. She was most considerate of others and grateful for everything that was done for her. On the 25th September, she realized that she could not live much longer. She smiled and thanked me for taking care of her, adding, “We’ve had lots of fun.” Quite calmly she repeated her home address, and then seemed to fall asleep, facing death as she had faced life, unflinchingly, looking forward and not back.

Throughout the night of 25/26 September I lay with my arms around her in a last effort to keep her warm, but this night she did not shiver and nothing disturbed her, and on the morning at 6am, she just stopped breathing while asleep. Dr. Parslow held a little service for her and we tried to sing a verse of ‘Abide with me’ but the effort was pathetic. They lowered her into the water. I felt very much alone, the only woman with some sixty men.

One night a small flying fish came into our boat. It was divided among eight of us, and we ate it with relish. We looked with longing at the numerous but elusive fish, which were always seen swimming about the boat through the blue water. The men tried to make hooks and lines, but they had nothing firm enough for a hook and the fish were wiser and stronger than they, and none was caught. Some of our number ate small barnacles, scraped from the sides and bottom of the boat, and we chewed our skin as it peeled from sunburned surfaces. We tried to make our mouths less dry by chewing bone buttons from clothing and rubber bands from the pemmican and biscuit tins.

Until they became too weak, most of the men used to go over the side for a dip once or twice a day, and they used to pour tins of water over my bare head and shoulders and limbs, and then we used to sit during the heat of the day with our clothing soaked in water and with cloths which we kept permanently tied over our heads. I believe that in these ways, water was absorbed through the skin. By night our clothing had dried on us and the burning heat gave way to cold.

On 27 September, we saw quite clearly during the morning, a three funneled vessel about four miles away. We were terribly excited and made great efforts to attract the attention of the ship’s lookout. Summoning our strength, we all leapt up and several climbed on the thwarts to see better and waved anything at hand. We longed desperately for the rockets and flares which should have been in the boat. One man produced a petrol lighter which miraculously still worked, and we tore open a kapok lifejacket and set fire to it in our bucket which was held aloft, the black smoke rising nicely. Someone blew our ‘bos’ns whistle, lips moved in silent prayer and faces were eager, hopeful and one felt that all must now be well. Surely she was turning? No – not yet. “Oh! But she is nearer,” the forward lookout cried, and we all craned our necks and agreed.

SS Laconia U-Boat Attack From Both Sides [Part 1 KTB 170]
SS Laconia U-Boat Attack From Both Sides [Part 2 KTB 172]
SS Laconia U-Boat Attack From Both Sides [Part 3 KTB 173]
SS Laconia U-Boat Attack From Both Sides [Part 4 KTB 174]
SS Laconia U-Boat Attack From Both Sides [Part 5 KTB 175]
SS Laconia U-Boat Attack From Both Sides [Part 6 KTB 175]