For many months the steamer Lanfranc had been employed in bringing wounded from France to England; but one evening in the spring of 1917 she fell a victim to a torpedo launched by a German submarine.

She had a crew of more than a hundred, and when she left France she had on board between 300 and 400 British wounded and about 160 Germans. Many of the latter were wounded and were being taken to England for treatment.

The vessel was struck about half-past seven in the evening when the sea was quite calm. There was a crash which shook the ship from end to end, and then a loud explosion. In a very short time the engines stopped, and the ship heeled over as if about to sink. Then she righted herself and remained steady on the surface of the water; but the torpedo had done its work and the ship was slowly sinking.

As soon as the crash of the torpedo was felt the German prisoners were thrown into a panic of terror. They rushed madly to the lifeboats, and it was only by threatening them with revolvers that the British officers were able to drive them back. They were sternly told to wait their turn, and knew that they must obey; but some of them showed the most abject fear and went down on their knees to beg for mercy.

Meanwhile, the crew and the hospital staff had quietly taken up their posts and begun the work of rescue. The wounded who were too ill or too maimed to help themselves were brought up on deck and carried first to the boats. The others remained on deck, and though many of them were sadly crippled they tried to stand to attention.

The vessel was slowly sinking and help had been summoned by wireless. But as yet there were no rescuers in sight and the first business was to get as many as possible into the boats. It was not, however, a matter of “everyman for himself.” Among the British, at least, it seemed to be “every man for his comrade.” Those who afterwards told the story of that perilous hour said that they had never seen so many examples of cheery helpfulness among British soldiers.

But this is not surprising, for the good comradeship of British soldiers is well known all over the world. There is still greater praise due to those men on the Lanfranc. They rose to the greater height of heroism in showing pity and mercy to the comrades of the men who had attacked a hospital ship in defiance not only of the rules of war but of the higher law of humanity.

It would have been almost excusable if in that hour the British soldiers had turned upon the Prussians or had at least shown some feeling towards them. But instead of any sign of anger or contempt we are told of the most gentlemanly kindness and courtesy.

“The behaviour of our own lads,” said a British officer, “I shall never forget.... Those who could lend a hand scurried below to help in saving friend or enemy. One man whom I saw had a leg severed and his head was heavily bandaged. He whistled to a mate to come and help a Prussian who was unable to move owing to internal injuries. Another man limped painfully along with a Prussian officer on his arm, and helped the latter to a boat.

“It is impossible to give adequate praise to the crew and staff. They were all heroes. They remained at their posts until the last man had been taken off. Some of them took off articles of their clothing and threw them into the lifeboats for the benefit of some of the sick and wounded. The same spirit showed itself as we moved away from the scene of the outrage. I saw a sergeant take his tunic off and make a pillow for a wounded German. There was a private who had his arms around an enemy trying hard to make the best of an uncomfortable position.”

The men were at last picked up by French vessels and were quickly made as comfortable as possible. It must not be forgotten that loss of life was prevented by the splendid behaviour of the men in this crisis. It is often quite as heroic to stand steady as to dash forward into the “jaws of death.”