Page 29 of Summer in Greece

He shrugged and sighed again. ‘Not sure. It’s all a bit blurred. I was always going to go through it, but the time never seemed right.’

The rusty key refused to turn until Gordon sprung the lock.

At the next attempt, it popped open and they both stared at the contents.

CHAPTER 12

GERTIE

Greece, 1916.

TO BE TOLD TO GO and collect my valuables from the cabin was surprising and contradicted the drill we’d been taught. Although there was a strong sense of urgency, there was no panic. I glanced at the portholes, praying nobody would notice they were gaping open. I marched to my quarters and snatched at things, while wondering what was going on. Had a boiler exploded? I couldn’t think of another reason. We were a hospital ship, therefore we wouldn’t come under attack.

I spun around in my cabin. What was important? Mother’s letters, documents, a lipstick, a clean uniform, my bible, my diary? They should have told us what’s classed as invaluable. I stuffed things into my pillow-bag, then hurried up top.

At the muster, Matron checked everyone had their lifebelts tied properly. Some nurses were pulling their petticoats off, and I was about to join them when I remembered Sissy’s book, under my pillow. Oh my! I could not leave it behind. I slipped back, through the doors, down the staircase to F deck. Without wasting a second, I stuffed the book into my pillow-bag and then returned. Such a big ship – such a long way to and from my cabin. I burst through the main doors onto the deck, red-faced and breathless.

To my horror, my companions and Lifeboat 1 had gone. All that remained were a few petticoats folded neatly on deck. Clearly, the owners believed they would return to claim their garments once the emergency was taken care of. I raced to the rail and saw the lifeboat and its seventy-five occupants dangling just above the water.

A sailor was also leaning over the rail, watching, then shouting instructions to the two men above us who were handling the lifeboat davits, great metal cranes that swung the lifeboats out and then lowered them. Towards the stern, two of the lifeboat davits were also starting to move, both appeared to be lifting full lifeboats over the side. I could see a great deal of activity in that area and thought I should go there immediately. To add to my panic, the deck was rapidly taking on a steep slope.

About to hurry along to the next muster station, something came sliding in front of me, tripping me and sending me sprawling to the floor. Pain shot up my leg as I scrambled to my feet. The deck was tilting and the first sparks of panic got the better of me. I cried for help.

A loud whistle sounded above the screeching mechanism of the davits. One of the men working the lifeboats above our muster station must have seen me fall. He yelled something that didn’t reach me and pointed to his group. Now I think back, I must have been in shock because although I felt no fear, for a moment I was overwhelmed by hopelessness and couldn’t move. Matron Merriberry came racing around the corner with a clipboard in hand.

‘Good grief, Miss Smith! Why are you on the floor?’ she cried. ‘Where have you been! The captain’s given the order to man the lifeboats, but we’ve missed ours now. Come along, let’s hope the next one has room for us.’

The Britannic turned, headed towards a distant island, then the engines stopped. We hurried, I hobbled, pain in my ankle slowing me. Matron strode off in a walk that almost ran.

‘Come along, Miss Smith!’

‘My ankle, Matron. I fell, I can’t . . .’

‘For goodness’ sake! Put your arm around my shoulder.’ She supported me around the waist and ushered me towards the stack of lifeboats. ‘Why haven’t you got your lifesaver on?’ She called over the noise of the screeching davit. ‘Really, Miss Smith, you must learn to obey orders!’

Matron’s remark gutted me. Wasn’t I always doing my best? Hadn’t I tackled every foul job with all my energy? I noticed she had abandoned her petticoat and thought perhaps I should do the same, but there was no time, and even as we arrived at the muster, I was still trying to deal with my ankle pain and clutch onto my bulging pillow-bag.

The last lifeboat at this muster appeared to be full, but the sergeant in charge ordered everyone to make room for two more. He thrust a lifesaver at me.

Matron was given a place in the bow, and the pale, silent occupants of the stern bench budged up for me, then my pillow-bag was thrown in. I struggled to try and get my lifesaver on. We were lifted, swung over the side, and part lowered. Terror filled me as we hung far above the water. One of the men called up, ‘For God’s sake, set us down on the water!’

I prayed to Sissy and Arthur to keep us safe!

Lifeboat 1 was ahead of us, almost meeting the sea. Our vessel continued to hang halfway down the side of the ship. Perhaps there was a problem with the lowering mechanism. I hoped we would not have to jump from this great height. Why didn’t I take my petticoat off? At least I could swim; I guessed some of my companions could not. Could I rescue anyone from drowning? What terrible choices would I have to make? I tried to see Matron. Many lives would depend on her survival. If she ended up in the water, I’d try to save her first.

To start with, everything moved in a steady, comforting way. I assured myself, the King’s Navy had trained for this unfortunate eventuality. Then the ship rocked and the lifeboat rim crashed against the Britannic’s side. Everyone cried out when the green glass stripe that ran around the hull shattered. Glass daggers flew into the boat and hit some of the crew. Thankfully, eyes and faces escaped serious damage and our sturdy lifesavers spared anybody from being decapitated.

The Britannic’s bows dipped further, tilting us, terrifying everyone as we swung precariously, only six feet above the Aegean. Thank God the sea was flat. Then we continued down. However, the moment we reached the water and ropes were released, the propellers started up again.

Overwhelmed by the scene, I could hardly draw breath. My fear was not at that minute for myself, but for the people in Lifeboat 1.

As Britannic’s bows sank, her stern lifted. The three giant propellers rose and were now half out of the water and continuing to rise. The further they came out of the sea, the faster they turned, looming like a giant bronze of Poseidon himself. I cowered, hands pressed against my chest, covering the red cross on my starched apron.

Above us, another lifeboat had paused on its way down, but they could not see what was happening immediately below them.

The propellers created a malevolent maelstrom, spray flying through the air to pepper us like holy water at benediction. Turbulence sucked Lifeboat 1 and its seventy-five terrified occupants – the wounded from my ward, the nurses who tended them, my cabin mates – towards the exposed, spinning blades with inescapable force. Somewhere between them was my empty seat, and Matron’s too. Some of those who were facing the propeller saw their doom approach, and started to jump out of the lifeboat like rats from a sinking ship. Thrashing and splashing, they tried to swim away. Everyone else scrambled towards the rear of the lifeboat, terrified by what was about to happen.

Realising the fate awaiting his companions, sea-scout George, the quick-witted errand boy, grabbed a line that dangled from the side of the ship and hung on. The fifteen-year-old raced from end to end of the nine-hundred-foot vessel with messages while good-natured sailors and medical staff called, ‘Run, George, run!’