The Sinking of the RMS Lusitania | World War I

The RMS Lusitania was a British-registered cruise liner destroyed by an Imperial German Navy U-boat on 7 May 1915 near 11 miles off the coast of Kinsale, Ireland, during World War I. The attack occurred in the proclaimed maritime war zone surrounding the United Kingdom. Shortly after, Germany launched unrestricted submarine warfare against British ships in response to the Allied powers' deployment of a naval blockade against it and the other Central Powers. The passengers had been informed about the dangers of travelling into a British ship before leaving New York. U-20, led by Kapitänleutnant Walther Schwieger, attacked the Cunard ship. Unfortunately, a second explosion happened inside the ship after the single torpedo struck, and the ship sank in under 18 minutes. Out of the 1,266 travellers and 696 crew members on board, only 761 people survived. Many of the victims were Americans. The sinking turned public opinion against Germany in many nations. It also aided the United States' entry into the war two years later, as photos of the wrecked liner were widely utilized in propaganda and military recruitment operations in the United States. 

The need for wartime secrecy and a propaganda drive to ensure that all responsibility landed on Germany hampered current investigations into the precise circumstances of the ship's loss in both the United Kingdom and the United States. Throughout the war, debate raged over whether the ship was a legitimate military target. Still, after the war, it was revealed that she was carrying over 4 million rounds of machine-gun ammunition (.303 calibre), nearly 5,000 shrapnel shell casings weighing 50 tons, and 3,240 brass percussion artillery fuses at the time of her sinking. Over the years since the disaster, several attempts have been undertaken to dive into the wreck in search of information on how the ship sank, and military ordnance has been discovered in the debris. The debate has continued to this day.

The British government sponsored the building and operation costs of the Lusitania, with the understanding that she could be transformed to an Armed Merchant Cruiser if necessary. The British Admiralty measured her for requisition as an armed merchant cruiser at the onset of the First World War, and she was added to the official list of AMCs. The Admiralty subsequently reversed their judgment and chose not to employ her as an AMC after all; huge ships like the Lusitania burned massive amounts of coal and drained the Admiralty's fuel stocks. Therefore express liners were thought inappropriate for the job when smaller cruisers would suffice. Because they were also quite distinctive, smaller liners were used instead as transports. Lusitania, like Mauretania, remained on the official AMC list and was included as an auxiliary cruiser in Jane's All the World's Fighting Ships in 1914.

Fears for the safety of the Lusitania and other major liners were high when hostilities broke out. The ship was painted in a dull grey colour scheme for her first eastbound crossing after the war began to hide her identity and make her more difficult to spot visually. When it was discovered that the German Navy was held in check by the Royal Navy, and their threat to commerce was almost primarily eliminated, it appeared that the Atlantic was safe for ships like the Lusitania, assuming that the bookings justified the cost of keeping them in service.

Many of the enormous liners were lay up in the autumn and winter of 1914–1915, partly due to dwindling demand for transatlantic passenger travel and partly to safeguard them from mines and other hazards. Some of the most well-known liners were converted into troop transports, while others became hospital ships. Although bookings on board the Lusitania were not particularly robust throughout that autumn and winter, demand was sufficient to keep her in civilian service. There were cost-cutting measures made. One of these was the shutdown of her No. 4 boiler room to save coal and crew costs; as a result, her maximum speed was decreased from nearly 25 to 21 knots. Despite this, she was the last commercially operating first-class passenger liner.

The ship's disguised paint scheme was also withdrawn once the apparent risks faded, and she was reverted to civilian colors. Her name was repainted in gilt, and her funnels were repainted in Cunard colors. Her superstructure was also repainted white. A bronze/gold colored band was added around the superstructure base, just above the black paint, as one change.

The Lusitania continued on her usual route between Liverpool and New York, despite many British passenger ships being called into service for the war effort. On 1 May 1915, she set sail from Pier 54 in New York on her way back to Liverpool, carrying 1,959 passengers. In addition to her staff of 694, she carried 1,265 travelers, mostly British nationals and a large number of Canadians, sideways with 128 Americans. Her First Class rooms, for which she was known on the North Atlantic run, were little over half full at 290 passengers. However, with 601 people, Second Class was grossly overbooked, significantly above the maximum capacity of 460. While the presence of a large number of tiny children and newborns helped to alleviate the overcrowding in the limited number of two- and four-berth cabins, the problem was solved by allowing sure Second Class passengers to use unoccupied First Class berths. With only 373 passengers travelling in accommodations meant for 1,186, the situation in Third Class was considered the standard for an eastward voyage.

The British Admiralty had been watching the movements of U-20, commanded by Kapitänleutnant Walther Schwieger, using wireless intercepts and radio direction finding while the ship sailed across the ocean. Finally, on 30 April, the submarine set sail from Borkum, travelling north-west across the North Sea. She arrived in Peterhead on 2 May and went north across Scotland and Ireland, then south around Ireland's western and southern coasts to enter the Irish Sea from the south. Although Room 40 in the Admiralty was aware of the submarine's departure, destination, and expected arrival time, the decoding department's activities were kept so secret that they were unknown even to the normal intelligence division that tracked enemy ships and the trade division that issued merchant vessel warnings. Only the Admiralty's senior officials had access to the material, and they only issued warnings when they deemed it was necessary.

Lusitania was 750 miles westward of southern Ireland on the morning of 6 May. She arrived at a spot 120 miles west-south-west of Fastnet Rock at 05:00 on 7 May, where she encountered Partridge's patrolling boarding vessel. Heavy fog had descended by 6:00 a.m., necessitating the deployment of more lookouts. As the ship approached Ireland, Captain Turner ordered depth soundings and a speed reduction to eighteen knots, then 15 knots, and the foghorn to be sounded at 08:00. Some passengers were upset by the fact that the ship looked to be announcing her arrival. The fog began to lift by 10:00 a.m., and by midday, it had been replaced by dazzling sunshine over a calm, clear sea, and the speed had increased to 18 knots. U-20 resurfaced at 12:45 a.m., with excellent visibility. Something was spotted at 13:20, and Schwieger was ordered to the conning tower: at first, it appeared to be multiple ships due to the number of funnels and masts, but it eventually resolved into a single big steamer approaching the horizon. At 13:25, the submarine sank to a periscope depth of 11 meters and set a course to intercept the liner at 9 knots. When the ships were within 2 miles of each other, the Lusitania veered away, leading Schwieger to believe he had lost his target. However, she turned again, this time on a near-ideal track to position her for an attack. At 14:10, with the target at 700 meters, he ordered the firing of one gyroscopic torpedo at a depth of three meters.

On 8 May, local county coroner John Hogan conducted an inquiry in Kinsale investigating the deaths of two men and three women whose remains were brought ashore by the Heron, a local boat. The majority of the surviving and the dead were sent to Queenstown rather than Kinsale, which was closer. On 10 May, Captain Turner testified about the sinking events, stating that the ship was hit by one torpedo among the third and fourth funnels. A second explosion quickly followed this. He admitted to receiving generic submarine warnings, but he was not informed about the Earl of Lathom's sinking. He added that he had received other Admiralty instructions, which he had carried out, but he was not allowed to divulge. The coroner found that the deceased drowned due to an attack on an unarmed non-combatant vessel, which was illegal under international law. Harry Wynne arrived half an hour after the inquest had ended and the results had been released to the press, with orders to halt it. Captain Turner was not to testify, and no statements concerning any instructions issued to ships about avoiding submarines were made. 

Wreck Commissioner Lord Mersey presided over the formal Board of Trade investigation into the sinking, which acquired place in the Westminster Central Hall from 15–18 June 1915, with additional hearings at the Westminster Palace Hotel on 1st July and Caxton Hall on 17th July. Lord Mersey had a commercial law background rather than a marine law background, yet he had presided over several notable maritime inquiries, notably the Titanic investigation. Lieutenant Commander Hearn, Admiral Sir Frederick Inglefield and two merchant navy captains, D. Davies and J. Spedding, were his assessors. The Board of Trade was represented by Sir Edward Carson, Attorney General, and F. E. Smith, Solicitor General. Cunard was represented by Butler Aspinall, who had previously represented the Board of Trade at the Titanic enquiry. Lord Mersey questioned why more survivors were not summoned to testify, and a total of 36 witnesses were called. The majority of the sessions were open to the public, but two on the 15th and 18th of June were held on camera when evidence regarding the ship's navigation was given.

In the United States, 67 compensation claims were filed against Cunard, all of which were heard at the same time in 1918 by the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York. Judge Julius Mayer ruled upon the case. He had previously presided over a lawsuit involving the Titanic's sinking, in which he decided in favour of the shipping firm. Mayer was a conservative who was thought to be a safe pair of hands when it came to national security issues and whose favourite response to lawyers was "get to the point." The case would be heard without the presence of a jury. The two sides agreed ahead of time that no questions would be asked about whether the Lusitania was armed, transporting troops, or carrying munitions. Thirty-three spectators who could not travel to the United States made testimonies to Commissioner R. V. Wynne in England. Material from the Mersey inquiry presented in open court was considered, while evidence from the British closed sessions was not. The Defence of the Realm Act was castoff to prevent British witnesses from testifying any subject covered. After the sinking, the American Consul, Wesley Frost, collected statements in Queenstown, but they were never produced. 

On 8 May, former German Colonial Secretary Dr. Bernhard Dernburg made a presentation in Cleveland, Ohio, in which he attempted to rationalize the sinking of the Lusitania. Dernburg was recognized as the Imperial German government's official spokesman in the United States at the time. According to Dernburg, Germany had the right to destroy the Lusitania, although she carried contraband of war and was classified as an auxiliary cruiser. Dernburg went on to say that the German Embassy's warnings before her departure, as well as the 18 February statement stating the presence of war zones, absolved Germany of any responsibility for the deaths of the Americans on board. Finally, he mentioned the ammunition and military equipment declared on the Lusitania's manifest, saying that such vessels might be captured and destroyed under Hague regulations regardless of whether or not they were in a war zone.

Wilson had warned that if Germany launched a submarine campaign against Britain, the US would hold the German government liable for any infringement of American rights. On 1 May, he stated that no notice of an impending unlawful and inhumane act could be considered as a valid reason for that act. The subject was hotly disputed within the administration in the weeks following the sinking. William Jennings Bryan, Secretary of State, advised prudence and compromise. He argued that the United States should try to persuade the British to abandon their food interdiction and restrict their mine-laying activities at the same time as the Germans were convinced to scale back their submarine campaign. He also advised that the US government issue an unequivocal warning to citizens of the United States against travelling on belligerent ships. Despite sympathizing with Bryan's anti-war sentiments, Wilson urged that the German government apologize for the sinking, pay US fatalities, and vow to prevent a repeat of the disaster.

The German Chancellor, Theobald von Bethmann-Hollweg, convinced Kaiser Wilhelm II to prohibit action against ships flying neutral colours. The U-boat war was postponed on 27 August, when it became clear that British ships could readily fly neutral flags. The admirals of the Navy and Bethman-Hollweg were at odds over this decision. Kaiser Wilhelm II, backed by Army Chief of Staff Erich von Falkenhayn, approved the Chancellor's plan, and Tirpitz and the Admiralty backed down. Attacks were allowed only on British ships, while neutral vessels were treated according to Prize Law standards. No strikes on passenger liners were to be allowed at all, according to a German restriction order issued on 9 September 1915. Because the war circumstances dictated that no orders be misunderstood, Henning von Holtzendorff, the new chief of the German Admiralty, issued a secret directive on 18 September. All U-boats patrolling in the English Channel and off the western coast Kingdom were returned, and the U-boat war would now take place only in the North Sea, under Prize Law restrictions.

It was in the British interests to keep Americans informed about German actions and attitudes. However, according to a fictitious myth propagated by an overzealous propagandist, schoolchildren in several German regions were given a holiday to commemorate the sinking of the Lusitania. This story was based on the Goetz medal's popular reception. It was so successful that James W. Gerard, the US ambassador to Germany, recorded it in his biography, Face to Face with Kaiserism. However, he did not attest to its integrity.

Karl X. Goetz, a Munich medallist and sculptor who had created a series of slanted and satirical medals as a running comment on the combat, privately struck a small run of awards in August 1915 as a limited-circulation satirical attack on the Cunard Line for attempting to carry on business as usual during the war. Despite the German embassy's warnings, Goetz blamed the British government and the Cunard Line for permitting the Lusitania to leave. Due to high demand, several unlicensed copies were manufactured. Lord Newton, who was in responsibility of propaganda at the Overseas Office in 1916, decided to exploit the anti-German passions sparked by the Goetz award for propaganda purposes and commissioned department store magnate Harry Gordon Selfridge to re-create the medal. The imitation medals were offered for a shilling each and came in a nice case. They were an identical replica of the German award. The medals were distributed in Germany to commemorate the sinking of the Lusitania, and they came with a propaganda leaflet denouncing the Germans and incorrectly claiming that the sinking of the Lusitania was deliberate, rather than just an incident of Germany's larger plan to sink any ship in a combat zone without warning, according to the cases. The Red Cross and St Dunstan's Blinded Militaries and Mariners Hostel received proceeds from the sale of 250,000 Lusitania souvenir medals, according to the head of the Lusitania Souvenir Medal Committee. The British reproductions were made of diecast iron and were of lower quality than the original Goetz medals, sand-cast from bronze. A few genuine awards were, nevertheless, cast in iron. "KGoetz" is frequently found on the margin of originals. Various more versions have been made over the years.

René Baudichon, a French medallist, designed a counterblast to the Goetz medal around 1920. The Baudichon medal is made of bronze and has a diameter of 54 millimetres and a weight of 79.51 grams. The obverse depicts Liberty as she appears on the Statue of Liberty, but with a sword raised and emerging from a stormy sea. The sun is bursting through the clouds behind her, and six ships are steaming. R Baudichon's signature. The reverse depicts the Lusitania's starboard quarter, which is appropriately shown as sinking bow first. A capsized lifeboat can be seen in the foreground. The upper field represents a drowning kid, with the child's head, hands, and feet above the water; the RB monogram.

Audrey Warren Lawson-Johnston, born in New York City on 15 February 1915, was the sole survivor. She was the fourth of Major Frederic "Frank" Warren Pearl and Amy Lea's six children. She was three months old when she boarded the Lusitania in New York with her parents, three siblings, and two nurses, and had no firsthand knowledge of the disaster owing to her young age. However, her British nursemaid Alice Maud Lines, then 18 years old, jumped from the boat deck and fled in a lifeboat, saving her and her brother Stuart (age 5). Her parents and sisters survived, but Amy (age 3) and Susan (age 14 months) did not. On 18 July 1946, Pearl married Hugh de Beauchamp Lawson-Johnston, the second son of George Lawson Johnston, 1st Baron Luke. They lived in Melchbourne, Bedfordshire, with their three children. In 1961, Hugh served as Sheriff of Bedfordshire. In remembrance of her mother, Johnston donated an inshore lifeboat, Amy Lea, to New Quay Lifeboat Station in 2004. Unfortunately, on 11 January 2011, Johnston passed away.

Barbara McDermott was the last American survivor. At the time of the sinking, she was almost three years old. In southwestern Connecticut, her father worked as a draftsman for an armaments plant. Because of the tremendous demand for ammunition manufacturing at the plant where he worked during the First World War, he could not accompany his wife and daughter on the Lusitania. When the torpedo hit, Barbara was eating dessert in the ship's dining area. She recalled clutching her spoon as she witnessed fellow passengers fleeing the badly damaged vessel. Barbara was parted from her mother and loaded into Lifeboat No. 15 in the thick of the commotion. Barbara found out later that her mother had fallen into the sea but had been rescued and placed in the same lifeboat as her daughter. Thus, Barbara and her mother were not gravely hurt. Barbara and her mother moved to Darlington, County Durham, England, after their rescue to live with Barbara's maternal grandmother. Barbara's mother died on 22 March 1917, when she was 28 years old. Barbara returned to the United States two years later on the Mauretania, arriving in New York City on 26 December 1919. Barbara died on 12 April 2008, at the age of 95, in Wallingford, Connecticut.

The Hague Conventions of 1899 and 1907 established the "Prize rules" or "Cruiser rules," which governed the capture of ships at sea during combat, while advances in technology such as radio and submarines rendered parts of them obsolete. Unless the vessels resisted, attempted to escape, or were in convoy covered by warships, merchant ships were warned by warships and their passengers and crew were allowed to abandon ship before they were sunk. A merchant ship's limited armament, such as one or two guns, did not necessarily affect the ship's immunity to surprise attacks, nor did a load of ammunition or equipment. Nevertheless, the British declared the entire North Sea a War Zone in November 1914 and issued directives restricting neutral shipping's passage into and through the North Sea to designated channels where supervision could be provided. Admiral Hugo von Pohl, leader of the German High Seas Fleet, issued a warning in the Deutscher Reichsanzeiger on 4 February 1915 in reaction to this and the British Admiralty's order of 31 January 1915 that British commercial ships should wear neutral colours as a ruse de guerre.

On 10 February 1915, the Admiralty issued orders directing merchant ships to avoid hostile U-boats wherever feasible. If a submarine gets up close ahead of you with evident hostile intent, go straight for her at top speed. Ten days later, armed steamers were instructed to shoot on a submarine even if it had not been fired. Given a submarine's severe susceptibility to ramming or even small-calibre shellfire, a U-boat that surfaced to warn a merchantman that had been given such orders was putting itself in grave danger. The Germans were aware of these orders, despite their intended secrecy, as copies were obtained from captured ships and wireless intercepts; Bailey and Ryan, in their book "The Lusitania Disaster," emphasized the importance of these Admiralty orders to merchantmen, arguing that it was unreasonable to expect a submarine to surface and give warning in such circumstances. Thus, the best reasoning for the Germans' actions in the sinking, in their opinion, is this, not the munitions, the nonexistent armament, or any other claimed reason.

Since the accident, the cause of the second explosion aboard the Lusitania has been a point of contention. Most people assumed it was a second U-boat torpedo attack at the time. However, evidence from the U-boat confirms that just one torpedo was fired at the Lusitania, with Schwieger even remarking in his war diary that firing a second torpedo was impossible due to the panicked passengers who dove into the ocean. The second blast is blamed on the Lusitania's freight, according to one theory. There were 4,200,000 Remington rounds in the container. The ship's two-page manifest, submitted with US Customs after she departed New York on 1 May, listed 303 rifle/machine-gun cartridges, 1,250 cases of empty 3-inch fragmentation shell casings, and eighteen cases of percussion fuses.

On the other hand, these munitions were classified as small weapons ammunition, were bulk non-explosive, and were marked as such. The liner was perfectly legal to carry these under American shipping regulations, and experts agreed that they were not to guilt for the second detonation. Speculations that the ship was carrying more contentious goods, such as fine aluminium powder disguised as cheese on her cargo documents or guncotton disguised as meat casks, were never substantiated. In the 1960s, American diver John Light dove to the shipwreck several times in an attempt to prove the presence of contraband explosives in the cargo hold of the Lusitania, which the torpedo had ignited. Though following expeditions disputed Light's findings, he claimed to have discovered a big hole on the Lusitania's port side, opposite where the torpedo had impacted.