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The Red Cross of the Sea

"Peace hath her Victories No less renown'd than War."

THUS wrote the great poet of a war which he deemed, as we do our mighty conflict of to-day, one of Liberty against Tyranny, of the oppressed against oppressors a struggle for and vindication of the maintenance of the first liberties of mankind " ; and so, at this time, when our hearts are filled with pride at the brilliant teats of arms and the noble proofs of endurance of the soldiers and sailors of these our islands and their brothers from across the seas, let us nevertheless not altogether forget those humbler heroes, our Life-boatmen, who are now more than ever winning the victories of Peace.

Of the many strange and unexpected results of this world-war none is more surprising than that it should have brought about more work for Life-boats than ever before in the annals of the Institution. This fact is due to several causes, the principal of which are the total extinction of coast lights and the removal of buoys and beacons, combined with the necessity which war engenders for throwing aside that caution which is habitually required of the mariner when in the vicinity of unlighted land and unmarked channels.

To this may be added the fact that innumerable small vessels of all kinds have been chartered by the Admiralty for the purpose of mine - laying, mine-sweeping, patrolling, and other hazardous services in connection with the War, and the not infrequent recurrence of the word " Seaplane " in the list of services rendered by the Lifeboats reminds us that with the present War a new responsibility has been thrust on the Life-boat Institution, and that the term " Shipwreck" which occurs in its full title must be enlarged to include those frail vessels which sail the air, and, even more easily than those which move upon the water, may bring their crew into deadly peril of a watery grave.

On the whole, therefore, more vessels flying the white ensign have needed the services of Life-boats in the last eighteen months than ever before in the whole history of the ROYAL NATIONAL LIFEBOAT INSTITUTION, the total number of launches to ships of this character and others which had been mined, torpedoed, or otherwise in jeopardy as a result of the War up to the end of December, 1915, being 183, by which 413 lives were saved. May it not be said that this represents a direct contribution by the Life-boat Institution of over 400 lives to the War ? In effecting these rescues two valuable Life-boats and four brave lives were lost, surely as well entitled to the honourable epitaph " killed in action " as any on the field of battle.

It is thought that a more detailed account of a few of the more notable of these " War services " may be of interest to readers.

Of these the most conspicuous was that of H.M. Hospital Ship Rohilla, wrecked off Whitby on the 30th October, 1914. After four other Life-boats had tried in vain to reach her, the Tynemouth Motor Life-boat came a distance of 44 miles and succeeded in taking off the 50 survivors who had been 48 hours on what was left of the wreck. This service, it may be remarked, apart from its own merits, established once for all the immense advantage of Motor Lifeboats over the ordinary type. A full account of the rescue will be found in the Life-boat Journal for February, 1915.

Within three weeks of this event a particularly fine service was performed to H.M.S. Condor, wrecked on the dangerous Newcome Sand off Lowestoft on the 22nd November, 1914. The Lowestoft Life-boat had already been off in the early morning and saved 13 lives from H.M.S. Spider, but the wind and sea had greatly increased when the crew of nine of the former vessel were taken off.

Owing to her position and the tremendous seas which were breaking over her, and also over the Life-boat, the service was a peculiarly arduous and meritorious one, and the splendid sea- Ji manship displayed by the Coxswain, ' ' John Swan, earned the praise of the thousands of spectators who were lining the beach at the time, and the special commendation of the Senior Naval Officer at the Base, who was himself a witness of the rescue. For this service Coxswain Swan received the Silver Medal of the Institution.

During a severe S.E. gale on the 27th December, 1914, a torpedoboat destroyer ran ashore on the rocky coast at Kingsbarns, about six miles from St. Andrews. The vessel was steaming south, and in the darkness, without any shore lights to guide her, she lost her bearings. The Crail Lifeboat, which was launched at 6 A.M. in the height of the gale, was admirably handled by the Coxswain, Andrew Cunningham, who displayed the most skilful seamanship in keeping his boat from being dashed to pieces on the rocks which surrounded the vessel.

In spite of all his care, however, the Life-boat was badly holed, and owing to the heavy seas Coxswain Cunningham and one of the crew were washed out of the boat. Happily, owing to their life-belts, they were enabled to get back to her; and the Coxswain, in spite of his exciting adventure, continued the work of rescue and succeeded in taking off 20 of the wrecked crew, the remainder being rescued by the St. Andrews Life-boat, which had by then arrived upon the scene. For the courage and skill displayed in this service, Coxswain Cunningham was awarded the Silver Medal of the Institution, and special letters of thanks and appreciation were received from the Admiralty and the | Admiral Commanding the Coast of 1 Scotland.

One of the finest services recorded during the year 1915 was that of the Berwick-on-Tweed Life-boat to a motor-boat on the 10th November.

Manned by a scratch crew, of whom Dr. Fraser, the Hon. Secretary of the local Branch, was one, and a soldier belonging to the King's Own Scottish Borderers was another, the boat went out in the teeth of a biting northerly gale, and lay-to all night in the darkness until daylight made the rescue possible.

The crew having been taken off, the boat was headed for the north-east in order to get a sufficiently weatherly position to make the harbour, and this operation is described as having been one of the bitterest experiences which any man in the boat had ever endured.

The cold was intense, the wind cut like a knife, and the spindrift fell like showers of needles on the face. The Life-boat eventually only reached the harbour after immense exertions on the part of her crew, who were in a pitiable condition from their long exposure, the more so as in the hurry to get away they had not waited to put on their oilskins.

The Silver Medal of the Institution was awarded to the Second Coxswain, James Jamieson, for this service.

The foregoing account deals with services which all happily resulted in the saving of life ; but there were two launches on service when the Life-boats unfortunately were not successful in effecting a rescue, and in which the result was loss of life to the men who so gallantly attempted it. These also should be chronicled.

The sea-swept coast of Buchan has witnessed many shipwrecks since Dr. Johnson inveighed against the inhospitable aspect of its barren shores, but none more tragic than the disaster which occurred at Peterhead when the beautiful Motor Life-boat which had only recently been sent there was lost on the rocks at the entrance to the harbour and three of her gallant crew were drowned. The trawler Tom-Tit—frail namesake of a storm-tossed bird !—ran ashore in a fierce southerly gale on the 26th December, 1914, and the new Motor Life-boat, Alexander Tulloch, put out to her rescue in face of tremendous seas, one of which, alas ! caught the boat and dashed her upon the rocks, all her crew being thrown out. Of these, seven escaped by what was little short of a miracle, but three had sacrificed their lives to save others.

That noble animal, the horse, has in man's strange eventful history played many parts, none finer than his share in helping to save human life at sea. At not a few Life-boat stations it is next to impossible to launch the boat without the aid of horses. Bridlington, in Yorkshire, is one of these, and many a time has the Life-boat been sent on her errand of mercy by the fine team which is supplied for the purpose by the Corporation. It was on Thursday night, the 18th March, 1915, when the hurricane which had been sweeping the coast all day was almost at its height, that the Life-boat rockets echoed and re-echoed through the noise of the storm, and a very few minutes afterwards the Lifeboat was being dragged out of her house and down to the beach as near as possible to a mine-sweeper which had been wrecked off the town, and was being constantly swept by heavy seas. Four horses were yoked to the Life-boat carriage, with four brave men on their backs. " It is almost safe to say," says a local account, " that these big, handsome horses had never faced a worse task than the one which confronted them in the darkness and storm of that terrible night. Men and horses did their work well and bravely, and everything seems to have gone well until a tremendous wave, followed by a hurricane of wind, swept the Lifeboat sideways off the carriage into the sea." The two horses on the lee side were drowned, one rider had a miraculous escape by being hauled into the Life-boat as she proceeded on her way, but the other, Robert Carr, a man of 65, was not seen again until his body was washed up on to the beach. If ever a man died doing his duty," says the account from which we have just quoted, " that man was Robert Carr, whose age might well have excused him from taking part in such terrible work." Finally, at a time when passions are inflamed and racial hatred is difficult to restrain, it is good to call to mind the figure of that old German sailor who, happening to form one of the crew of a British vessel wrecked at the outbreak of the War, took the Captain's little seven-year-old daughter up into the rigging and " placed his weather-beaten body across his tiny friend to keep her warm, until, oblivious to the surroundings, the child fell asleep." In conclusion, let us remember that when in God's good time our heroes have returned, and beaten their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning-hooks, the Life-boatmen will still have to take their apportioned share in that never-ceasing war against man's old enemy the sea, a war which we may rest assured they will ever continue to wage—to quote once more from the noble sonnet with which this brief article opened :— " Guided by faith and matchless fortitude.".