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The surface of the sea in the North Atlantic was surprisingly calm for the beginning of May. Passengers of the luxurious British Luzitania liner spent time on cards, had all kinds of fun on decks, sat in salons, listened to concerts, walked on a ship or reclined in sun loungers, enjoying the healing sea air .
On the morning of the seventh day after sailing from New York, the Lusitania fell into a torn strip of fog near the southern coast of Ireland, and Captain William Turner ordered to reduce the speed from 21 to 18, and sometimes to 15 knots, and from 8 to 11 every morning turn on the beep. And by noon, the fog cleared, and after dinner, many passengers went on deck to bask in the sun and admire the emerald greenery of the Irish shores.
But a fair portion of the passengers was seized with doubts and poorly hidden anxiety: after all, there was a war, and the ship was approaching British coastal waters. Three months earlier, on February 4, 1915, Germany, which had been fighting for life and death, declared these waters a war zone, and the commanders of German submarines received orders to destroy all the enemy’s merchant ships within it. By the end of April, German wolf packs managed to sink 66 British cargo ships in total.
During the voyage, the boatswain and deck sailors of Luzitania daily examined lifeboats, showed passengers how to board them and fasten their seat belts. And when one alarmed passenger asked Captain Turner if these precautions were sufficient, the skipper replied:
"Lusitania is too moving." Not even a dashboard can keep up with her.
As usual, the periscope issued the boat. At ten minutes past two, two passengers strolling along the deck noticed him, and then they saw under the water the dark shadow of the hull and the conning tower.
- Look, submarine! Shouted one of them.
- God, we are gone! - exclaimed the second.
At the same instant, the starboard forward, an eighteen-year-old sailor named Leslie Morton, saw four hundred meters a huge air bubble burst to the surface and a white foam path that stretched straight to the Luzitania board. Grabbing a shout, he turned to the captain’s bridge and shouted:
- On the starboard side - a torpedo!
The shell hit almost exactly in the middle of the hull, a little closer to the nose. The hole was more than three meters below the waterline. Following the sharp pop of the first explosion, another one was heard immediately, much louder. Columns of smoke and steam, coal dust, fountains of water and debris burst out through pipes and ventilation outlets. Heaving heavily on the starboard side, the Lusitania began to sink and after 18 minutes disappeared under the water. 761 passengers and crew members escaped from a sinking ship. The mistress of the Atlantic took 1198 people into the abyss, whose grave was the seabed near the coast of Ireland.
The attack of the submarine on an unarmed passenger ship immediately raised a huge wave of indignation around the world, and especially in neutral America, which mourned 128 of its citizens who sunk into the abyss.
"Not a single act of piracy in history can be compared with senselessness and cruelty with the sinking of Lusitania," the Louisville Kurir Journal wrote. "The Germans probably lost their minds," the Richmond Times dispatcher echoed to her.
After 3 days, on May 10, the German government sent a note to Washington with "deepest condolences" regarding the death of the Americans. However, the Germans placed the entire burden of blame for this on Britain, saying that they had to take retaliatory measures, since de Britain blocked German ports, cutting off supplies of raw materials and food to the warring country. Moreover, according to Berlin, there were 5,450 boxes of ammunition and other military cargo on board the Lusitania, which was in no way consistent with the status of a harmless passenger ship.