Frankie's Letter - By Dolores Gordon-Smith Page 0,15
you got on the boat at Kiel?’
Anthony returned the grin and lit another cigarette. ‘I had a talk to the captain, who was a patriotic German, thank goodness. He appreciated how it could be necessary for a German officer to get in and out of Denmark without being seen. He provided a change of clothes and kindly offered to keep my uniform for me until I could reclaim it. He understood how Korsor might be watched and how careful I had to be, as there were spies everywhere. I mean, look at that business on the quayside as we left.’
He laughed. ‘My word, I was lucky to get away with it. It really was funny, you know. I suppose poor old von Hagen managed to explain things eventually, but I’d prepared the major to believe that everything he said was a pack of lies. The only thing I was worried about was that they might send a fast boat after us but, if they did, it was too late. I left the ship near Skjelskor in the south of Zealand, got across to Copenhagen without too much trouble, and headed for home.’
Sir Charles frowned. ‘We had no word from anyone in Copenhagen.’
Anthony leaned forward. ‘That was deliberate. In light of what Cavanaugh said, I was wary of approaching anyone. I picked up some false papers in Copenhagen and came back as a passenger on a Dutch cargo boat shipping margarine and candles. It was long-winded but I was safe enough. However, it does mean I’ve been out of touch for a while.’
Sir Charles’s eyes widened. ‘You’ve heard the news, though? About the Lusitania, I mean?’
Anthony shook his head, puzzled. ‘No. What about the Lusitania?’
‘It was torpedoed and sunk by a U-boat off the coast of Ireland,’ said Sir Charles quietly. ‘There’s thought to be well over a thousand passengers and crew dead.’
Anthony stared at him. ‘They attacked a passenger ship?’ Sir Charles nodded. ‘But they can’t do that.’
He felt sick. He’d sailed on the Lusitania. She was far more than just a name to him. She was a wonderful ship, a vast, elegant Cunarder who had won the Blue Ribbon for the fastest Atlantic crossing, a ship it was a delight to sail on and whose crew felt proud to be on board. He’d been in attendance on Molly Benham’s father at the time and had sat beside the old man in the lounge with its ornate plasterwork under the stained-glass skylight, while families, mothers, nursemaids and well-drilled children came and went.
A little girl had jogged his arm and Anthony spilled his whisky, marking the table top. The steward had wiped it up and next morning the table had been lovingly polished so no stain remained. And now sea water covered the polish and the green curtains were a sodden mass of slimy velvet.
In a sudden, vivid moment, Anthony could virtually see the mass of pent-up water, swamping the decks, pouring down the darkened hatchways and forcing its way through the cabin doors, through to the terrified children held by their mothers. A thousand people dead.
Sir Charles looked at Anthony’s shocked face. ‘Yes, they got the Lusitania,’ he repeated quietly. He looked down at the notes he’d taken. ‘And Cavanaugh said, “There’s a ship in danger. A big ship. Passengers.” He obviously knew what he was talking about.’
‘But why?’ demanded Anthony in horrified disbelief. ‘It’s barbaric. Those people were civilians. Why on earth did they do it? Apart from anything else, the Americans will be up in arms about it.’
‘Only if we’re very lucky,’ said Sir Charles, grimly. ‘There were Americans killed all right but, as I see it, President Wilson will send the Germans a stiff note and everything will be as before.’
‘But it doesn’t make sense,’ protested Anthony in bewilderment. ‘The Lusitania wasn’t a threat to anyone. This sort of thing’s unprecedented.’
Sir Charles raised his eyebrow. ‘Is it?’ He rubbed a hand across his forehead. ‘I wish it were. You’ve been out of touch, Brooke, so you won’t know, but the Lusitania is only their largest victim so far. The gloves are off, right enough. The Germans have declared unrestricted submarine warfare and no ship is safe. A hospital ship, brilliantly lit and showing the red cross, was attacked outside Le Havre in February. In March, three steamers were destroyed off the Scillies in one day. The ships were sunk but the passengers and crew were safe. They were allowed into lifeboats and then the submarine turned her