LANDING OF SURVIVORS AT HOLYHEAD (1915)

Description

Date: 14 May 1915

Transcript:

LANDING OF SURVIVORS AT HOLYHEAD.
PATHETIC SCENES.

The watchers on the Admiralty Pier at I Holyhead on Sunday looked anxiously into the black night. Midnight had just chimed and away out to sea the twinkling lights of a little steamer could just be seen gliding almost imperceptibly nearer to the entrance of the harbour, it was nerve-trying work baiting and watching. There were some there who had dear ones on the Lusitania.

One lady and gentleman were looking for their daughter, they had received no definite news of her, but someone of the same name appeared in the list of saved expected by the Irish boat—and they were hoping. It was painful to watch them as they paced up and down the pier, the mother unable to control her feelings, the father, white-faced and anxious, supporting her and whispering words of hope and comiort. Half an hour later, when they knew that she whom they sought was not among that crowd of rescued folk, the poor woman broke down completely, and was assisted, sobbing unrestrainedly, to the hotel.

Meanwhile railway officials and men from the Cunard had been busy preparing to receive this cargo of human salvage.

The arrival of the boat had a remarkable effect upon those assembled to meet it. It had brought the first survivors back to the homeland; it brought one face to face with live men and women who had been within an inch of death, brought the first spark of gladnees to lighten the gloom into which this disaster had plunged the nation.

BRUISED AND BROKEN.

There was a murmur of sympathy as the first couple came up the gangway. They were a young man. and young woman. They walked arm in arm, one supporting the other. The man's head was bandaged, one of his arms was in a sling, and he tottered as he and his companion made their way to the waiting train. There were others who walked feebly, young men, robust a few days ago, drooping now and hollow-cheeked. A man of the working class, still dazed and nervous, had brought his little boy home. Since the liner went down he has seen or heard nothing of his wife and his two other children, whom he had put into a boat before he was washed from the sloping deck. Several of these survivors were bruised and broken, and every bandaged limb sent a thrill of sympathy and a thrill of anger through those who watched.

With tender care and solicitude these poor people were shepherded into their carriages by the watchful Cunard and railway men. Tea and refreshments were handed to them, and rugs and blankets served out to keep them warm on their long journey.

By one o'clock all had been made as comfortable as possible, and the long train left the station on its way to Liverpool and London.

SOME OF THE CREW.

An hour later another boat brought home the remnants of the crew. Accustomed by their work to facing peril and danger, they bore less obvious traces of the ordeal through which they had passed. They were cheerful and lignthearted—now and again some of them laughed and sang. Alter the long hours of agony the reaction had come, and they were almost gay, except when their thoughts turned to dear comrades who had gone.

Old friends assembled on the pier to greet them, and gave them a vociferous welcome, there were some glad re-unions sealed by earnest handgrips; a few inquiries about dear ones who were still waiting at home, and then the throng—clad in strange garments some of them—passed on to the waiting train.

Mugs of tea and coffee, parcels of sandwiches, and boxes of biscuits were handed into every carriage, and when dawn broke over the Welsh hills the motley survivors of the "Lusitania" wreck settled down to breakfast, picnic fashion, while the train flashed on through Anglesey.

On Saturday evening, the London and North-Western Railway Company's turbine steamer "Greenore," commanded by Captain Teller, left Dublin for Ilolvhead with 240 survivors of the "Lusitania." The chief steward, Mr Banister, and his staff had made due preparations, and gave them refreshments on embarkation. Those unable to walk were carried from the train to the boat by soldiers. The survivors were so nervous that all able to walk put on lifebelts and remained on deck during the passage.

One lady and gentleman had been able to bring up a small bag from their room after the "Lusitania" had been struck, and they got away in a lifeboat. Later they helped an old lady of 80 into their boat. She had been some hours in the water, and told them that she was on her way to England to visit a son lying wounded in hospital; one son had given his life tor his King. Unfortunately, the shock was too great for her, and she succumbed after being landed.


Source:
'Landing of Survivors at Holyhead.' North Wales Chronicle and Advertiser for the Principality. 14 May 1915. 7.

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