LINERS IN COLLISION U.S. TRANSPORT SUNK

430 MEN MISSING

Last night the Admiralty issued the following statement: At eleven a.m. on the 6th inst. (Sunday) his Majesty’s armed mercantile cruiser Otranto (Acting Captain Ernest G. W. Davidson, R.N., in command) was in collision with ss. Kashmir. Both vessels were carrying United States troops. The weather was very bad at the time, and the two ships drifted apart and soon lost sight of each other.

His Majesty’s torpedo-boat destroyer Mounsey (Lieutenant F. W. Craven, R.N.) was called by wireless, and by skilful handling succeeded in taking off 27 officers and 239 men of the crew, 300 United States military ratings, and 30 French sailors, and landed them at a North Irish port. The Otranto then drifted ashore on the Island of Islay and became a total wreck. Sixteen survivors have been picked up at Islay, and the casualties, missing feared drowned, are as follows:

335 United States military ranks and ratings. 11 officers. 85 crew (including specialty entered mercantile ratings). Ss. Kashmir reached a Scottish port, and landed her troops without casualties. FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT. AN IRISH PORT. The collision occurred about eleven o’clock on Sunday morning off the coast of Scotland. It appears that extremely rough weather was met with as the convoy was approaching the Scottish coast, and the waves ran so high that a great difficulty was experienced in steering the vessels. When the gale was at its height the Kashmir was lifted clean out of the water by an enormous billow, and in her descent she was flung across the deck of the Otranto. The latter was forced down by the burden thus suddenly imposed on her, and for a few moments it seemed as though she would be entirely submerged, but the pressure of the colliding boat was quickly removed, and the Otranto then righted herself again. Her decks were, however, badly cut up, and there was a big inrush of water from her side, which had been ripped open by the collision. She was being utilised as an auxiliary cruiser, and had on board 700 troops, in addition to a crew of about 300.

Soon after the impact a destroyer rushed to the spot with the object of taking off the crew and passengers. In consequence of the tempestuous conditions, it was impossible to launch the Otranto’s lifeboats. The officers and men on the Otranto were wearing lifebelts, and scores of them jumped on to the deck of the destroyer in safety. Other vessels in the convoy also assisted in the rescue. The conduct of the commander of the destroyer is spoken of in glowing terms by the survivors. The sea was lashed into a fury by the gale, and the commander must have known that he was taking a desperate risk in trying to get alongside the Otranto in such conditions, but he did not hesitate, and the fact that he was able to rescue so many from the damaged vessel is a sterling tribute to his magnificent seamanship and his courage and resourcefulness. The officers and men on the destroyer responded with alacrity to their commander’s orders, and in their humane efforts all worked like Trojans. The scenes after the destroyer had steamed away with her burden of human souls were even more dramatic. The destroyer had come alongside three times, and on each successive occasion parties from the Otranto had made the desperate leap for life. It was only after the imperative and reiterated orders of the gallant skipper of the liner that the destroyer left. The Otranto, with nearly 500 souls on board, had to battle with a wind of extreme velocity, and was buffeted by mountainous seas. With each successive lurch the vessel shipped great quantities of water.

The Islay coast, with its treacherous reefs, was ever looming nearer. It was out of the question to launch any of the remaining boats, and when the brave captain shouted down to the men on the deck, “Well, boys, it looks as if we have to swim for it,” every man knew he spoke the truth and realised the desperate nature of the occasion. About eleven o’clock the ship grounded on a reef about a mile from the island. She seemed to glide into it very easily on the crest of a huge wave, which, when it receded, left the liner in the grip of the rocks, whose jagged projections bit right into the ship’s ribs, holding her fast. There the great vessel lay, pounded by the waves with such terrific force that it was only a matter of time ere she would go to pieces.

Many of the soldiers ventured all on a last gamble for life. They jumped into the sea, but were hurled by the waves against the ship’s side and killed. Others risked the venture on rafts that had previously been lowered, but these were dashed against the hull of the stricken ship and their occupants swept to their death. Finally, the vessel was caught by a wave mightier than the others, and in crashing down again the liner broke in two. One section listed so sharply that the men slid off into the water, and the other broke up immediately. It was now a case of a fight for life, and the majority did not live through the ordeal. The last that was seen of the fearless captain was when he was swept from the bridge after the mast had snapped and carried overboard. One survivor relates having seen him battling with the waves and in search of a piece of wreckage to support himself. The commander of the Otranto, however, is to be numbered among the victims of the wreck. The floating débris, the cruel rocks, and the surging seas were responsible for the deaths of all save 20, who reached land more dead than alive.

In one little cove between the cliffs no fewer than 28 bodies were found. Up till Thursday over 200 bodies had been recovered. The islanders did all that was humanly possible to effect rescues and to succour the survivors. The 20 survivors were taken to farmhouses and treated with the utmost kindness. The bodies of the victims were reverently conveyed to the little church at Kilchoman, where nearly 100 of them found a temporary resting-place. Services were conducted by the Rev. Donald Grant, the local padre. A memorial service was held in the little church, at which were present nine American officers, two representing the Red Cross.