As it was in the course of my duties as Engineer to tie Institution that I was returning from Ireland on board the Leinster on Thursday morning, October 10th, a short account of my experience will not be out of place in THE LIFE- BOAT JOURNAL. My story will not be a full description of the disaster, but merely an abridged record of what I saw and what befell myself and a few other passengers.

I was sitting on deck on the star- board side of the ship a little way aft of amidships when, at 9.32 A.M., the first torpedo struck the Leinster on the port side. I had a momentary warning from a man "who ran across from the port to the starboard side, saying as he passed my seat, " A torpedo coming!"

The shock of the explosion was not very great. The ship shivered and began to dip slightly forward. I think that no one on deck was in any way hurt, Men of the crew ran at pace to the upper deck and began lowering the life-boats. There were calls for " Women and children first " and cries of " Steady, men, steady " from some officers. I saw no panic or cowardice among those around me. There seemed little for: one to do but wait. I realized there was no chance of getting into a life-boat.

A lad of seventeen or so passed me carrying his life-belt in his hand, and I stopped him and fixed it on Mm. A New Zealand officer was standing near me, and he said, " I can't swim a yard." I told him ha had not got his belt on correctly, and took it off him and put it on right. I was myself wearing a Kapok, waistcoat and had put on a life-belt also immediately after the torpedo struck the ship.

I observed a life-boat on the starboard side about amidships being lowered, with only & few men in her. Others jumped in or slid down the davit ropes.

The official who had examined my ticket at Kingstown Quay was on board of her, and I think in charge. I do not know the fate of this boat, but there were still women on deck.

Almost immediately after noticing this boat, and I should say about twelve minutes after the first torpedo, a, second one struck us, and a tremendous ex- plosion amidships followed. I turned 1 my back to it and ducked my head, Nothing, however, struck me except water, and I found myself unhurt but very wet. The ship started to sink quickly, and the deck was so aslant it was difficult to stand. There were cries of " Jump I" and the water alongside was at once full of struggling men and women. I ran aft before jumping, and left it to the very last chance. I jumped from the port side near the stern, being about twelve feet or so above the water, and saw no more of the ship.

I found myself close to a small raft about four feet square, and got on to it with a woman and a young soldier.

Others came along and tried to get on.

The raft was upset and we were all in the water again. There was a life-boat near with only a few on board, and most left the raft and made for the boat. I stuck to the raft and got on again with the same woman and young soldier.

There was a very big surge, but fortunately not much wind to break the crests of the waves. We appeared to rise and fall about six to twelve feet, and the young soldier was helpless with sea-sickness. The woman lay on her face across the middle of the raft, the soldier on her right side and I on her left. She was very plucky. We drifted 1 away from the life-boat and came across another exhausted soldier. I got Mm partly on the raft, which nearly capsized again, and I regret to say he was washed off. I then held on to him in the water, but he was soon unconscious. He never spoke, and when a rather bigger wave than most came along, I lost hold of him.

We drifted near a New Zealand soldier with a large circular white lifebuoy, and by pushing some wreckage to him I got him alongside the raft. He held on and I talked to him and cheered him up with news of the approaching vessels from Kingstown. Just at the last he was swept away from the raft, but the skipper of a patrol-boat had seen him, and getting nearer to him heaved him a line. When he was alongside the patrol-boat he was too weak to eave himself, and one of the crew bravely jumped in and rescued him.

One other soldier, an Australian, joined us. He was swimming well, and managed to get on the raft without upsetting us. He was a cheery fellow and had not lost his head. Two lines were thrown to us from the patrol-boat —the Helga—and with these I soon worked the raft close alongside the boat, when, as soon as she rolled towards us, we were seized by many hands and lifted over the taffrail, about one hour and a quarter after I jumped from the Leinster.