Survivors of the Titanic

The Titanic met her unfortunate fate in April of 1912 and while there were over 1,500 lost to the sea, there were a total of seven hundred and six survivors that survived the sinking of this ship. This was one the saddest tragedies that there ever was and here is a brief account of some of the individuals that survived the sinking of the Titanic.


Millvina Dean


Miss Elizabeth Gladys Dean, also known as Millvina, was only a few months old when she, her parents, and a brother, boarded the Titanic at Southampton. They were immigrating to Kansas where her father had high hopes of opening a tobacconist shop. Her mother, brother, and Millvina were the only ones of her family to survive and be rescued. Millvina was the last remaining survivor of the Titanic, and passed away on May 31, 2009 at the age of 97.

 
Violet Jessop

Violet Jessop, an ocean liner stewardess and a nurse was one of the survivors of the Titanic. She is also well known for surviving the Britannic in 1916, the sister ship to Titanic. Violet also survived an earlier fiasco in 1911, when she was aboard the RMS Olympic, when it collided with another ship, HMS Hawke. She passed away on May 5, 1971 of congestive heart failure. 



Lillian Asplund  

Lillian Asplund was the last Swedish/American survivor of the sinking of the Titanic. She was five years old at the time and she had actual memories of the sinking. Her family were third class passengers when they boarded the Titanic on April 10, 1912. She remembered that the Titanic was very big and it had been freshly painted. She reportedly said that she did not like the smell of the paint. She passed away on May 6, 2006, at the age of 99.
 

Barbara Joyce West 

Barbara Joyce Dainton West was the second to last remaining living survivor of the sinking of the Titanic. Her parents, Barbara, a sister, and one on the way, were immigrating to the United States to begin a new life when the Titanic hit the iceberg. Barbara was only ten months old when she was on board the ship. Her mother, sister, and Barbara were the only ones to survive in the family. Her father’s body was never identified, if it had been found. Barbara died October 16, 2007 at the age of ninety-six years old.

Inspiration ...

“Sometimes God calms the storm, sometimes He calms the sailor”

Titanic Survivor Stories: Charles Joughin

One of the most famous Titanic survivor stories is that of Charles Joughin. The man who somehow drank his way though the Titanic disaster and lived to tell the tale. Here is an account of this Titanic survivor and his bizarre story that some still find hard to swallow.

Like any cruise ship of current times, the Titanic was designed as one big party boat. You can’t go on a cruise ship without entertaining the idea of having a few cocktails to go along with the view, and the Titanic was no different. According to the ship’s manifest, the drink order for the Titanic included 1500 bottles of wine, 15,000 champagne glasses, 20,000 bottles of beer and stout, and at least 850 bottles of spirits. The cargo manifest reveals further reserves of 17 cases of cognac, 70 cases of wine and 191 cases of liquor. This was all in addition to the personal stocks of booze that passengers were sure to have included as well.

In addition to the copious amounts of spirits that were aboard the Titanic, there were also a variety of drinking and smoking rooms. This translated into the Titanic being roughly a paradise of drinking and debauchery. Some sources speak of passengers making quips pertaining to ice after the Titanic struck the iceberg in the middle of the North Atlantic, but none of these have actually been recorded or confirmed. The Titanic ultimately did sink, but Titanic survivor Charles Joughin and his friend alcohol lived to tell the tale.

Depicted in both A night to Remember and the 1997 blockbuster Titanic movie, Charles Joughin is shown as the drunk guy hanging onto the side of the rail. Many individuals may only see the character as a commentary on a certain outlook on the sinking Titanic, but this character actually survived the disaster by warming his insides with whiskey. Those who documented the story of Joughin site alcohol as one of the contributors to his survival. Along with this cool headed approach to the situation, documents illustrate that the chef survived longer in the icy Atlantic as a direct result of his blood alcohol level.

During the sinking of the Titanic, Joughin and the other chefs were tasked with bringing food and supplies to put aboard the lifeboats. Many depictions of Joughin fail to submit this fact and focus more on his excessive drinking. After awaiting his fate in his cabin while hitting the bottle, Joughin ventured onto the top deck and began helping people onto lifeboats and declining to board one himself. Returning to his cabin and further fortifying himself for another half hour, Joughin would later emerge to throw chairs and other items overboard in hopes to give those who fell overboard something to hang onto.

After the Titanic had completely been submerged, the story sites that Joughin stepped onto the bow of the ship without as much as getting his hair wet. Accounts say that he survived three hours (although the length of time is debated) in the freezing Atlantic. Some say that this was a result of the amount of alcohol in his blood, and others have different explanations. No matter how the details read, the fact is that Joughin survived the sinking of the Titanic and managed to keep a level head during the entire disaster.

Joughin survived the Titanic and his heroism under the influence has gone all but unnoticed over the years. Joughin died at age 78 in 1956 in Patterson, New Jersey.

In a letter to the author of  “A Night to Remember,” Walter Lord, Joughlin wrote:

Mr Walter Lord

Dear Sir,

Some secretaries brought to my notice your very splendid article “A Night to Remember” in the current issue of “The Ladies Home Journal.”

Most written accounts were hair-raising scenes which did not actually occur, except in the last few moments when those left behind made a mad rush towards what they considered a safer place, the Poop Deck. Fortunately I was all alone, when the big list to port occurred. I was able to straddle the Starboard rail (on A deck) and stepped off as the ship went under. I had expected suction of some kind, but felt none. At no time was my head underwater. just kept moving my arms and legs and kept in an upright position. No trick at all with a left-belt on. Your account of the upturned collapsible with Col.Gracie aboard was very correct. Most of the crew, were familiar with life boat and Fire stations as they had manned the “Olympic” (a sister ship) previously. Some curious things are done at a time like this. Why did I lock the heavy iron door of the Bakery, stuff the heavy keys in my pocket, alongside two cakes of hard tobacco.

My conclusions of cause: Grave error on part of Captain Smith kept course in spite of ice warnings and severe drop in temperature from 5 P.M.

Loss of life: life boat shortage, for the number of passengers and crew, but many more could have been saved, had the women obeyed orders. In those circumstances the crew are helpless.

The remainder of the letter concerned the rest of his ship career, such as the fact that he made first voyage as Cabin Boy SS Melbourne to S.America in 1896.

Joughin’s file also included a letter from Captain J.H.Anderson, who wrote to the the Ladies Home Journal on 8/1/56. He says that Charles Joughin and he were shipmates and the stories recounted in “Journal” were almost verbatim as told by Joughin 30 years ago. One story that was not recounted in the Journal was Joughin’s initial treatment aboard the Carpathia when he was placed in a warm oven to thaw him out, or as he expressed it “they popped me in an oven like one of me own pies!”

Titanic Survivor Stories

Of the total 2,223 passengers aboard the Titanic only 706 survived the disaster. Most of those lost succumbed to hypothermia due to the freezing water of the Atlantic. Temperatures of the surrounding water during the Titanic sinking were around 28 degrees Fahrenheit. Humans exposed to this freezing water temperature would last only about 15 minutes before death. First class passengers and women were more likely to survive then men, second, and third class passengers. When the lifeboats were deployed, there was a women and children first policy that created these staggering survival rates. Of male passengers in second class, 92 percent perished. Less than half of third-class passengers survived. Another disparity is that a greater percentage of British passengers died than American passengers; some sources claim this could be because many Britons of the time were too polite and queued, rather than to force and elbow their way onto the lifeboats as some Americans did. The captain, Edward John Smith, shouted out: “Be British, boys, be British!” as the ocean liner went down, according to witnesses. It also turns out that the legend of the band continuing to play as the Titanic sank is true.

Titanic: The Unsinkable Molly Brown

Margaret Brown (right) giving Captain Arthur Henry Rostron an award for his service in the rescue of Titanic's surviving passengers

Margaret "Molly" Brown was an American socialite, philanthropist, and activist who became famous due to her survival of the 1912 sinking of the RMS Titanic, after exhorting the crew of Lifeboat No. 6 to return to look for survivors. She became known after her death as "The Unsinkable Molly Brown.

Margaret was conveyed to the passenger liner RMS Titanic as a first class passenger aboard the tender SS Nomadic at Cherbourg, France. The Titanic sank early on April 15, 1912 at around 2:20 am after striking an iceberg at around 11:40. Margaret helped others board the lifeboats, but was finally convinced to leave the ship in Lifeboat No. 6.[1] She would later be regarded as a heroine for her efforts to get Lifeboat 6 to go back to search for survivors.[1] Molly Brown was later called "The Unsinkable Molly Brown" by authors because she helped in the ship's evacuation, taking an oar herself in her lifeboat and protesting for the lifeboat to go back to try to save more people.

Her urgings were met with opposition from Quartermaster Robert Hichens, the crewman in charge of Lifeboat 6, who was fearful that if they did go back, the lifeboat would either be pulled down due to suction, or the people in the water would swamp the boat in an effort to get inside. Sources vary as to whether the boat did go back and if they found anyone alive when they did.

First Class Facilities of the RMS Titanic

John Jacob Astor IV in 1909. He was the wealthiest person aboard Titanic.

The passenger facilities aboard Titanic aimed to meet the highest standards of luxury. According to the Titanic's general arrangement plans, the ship could accommodate 833 First Class Passengers, 614 in Second Class and 1,006 in Third Class, totaling to a combined passenger capacity of 2,453.

Her interior design was a departure from that of other passenger liners, which had typically been decorated in the rather heavy style of a manor house or an English country house. Titanic was laid out in a much lighter style similar to that of contemporary high-class hotels—the Ritz Hotel was a reference point—with First Class cabins finished in the Empire style.  A variety of other decorative styles, ranging from the Renaissance to Victorian style, were used to decorate cabins and public rooms in First and Second Class areas of the ship. The aim was to convey an impression that the passengers were in a floating hotel rather than a ship; as one passenger recalled, on entering the ship's interior a passenger would "at once lose the feeling that we are on board ship, and seem instead to be entering the hall of some great house on shore."

Titanic's famous Grand Staircase, which provided access between the Boat Deck and E Deck.

Passengers could use an on-board telephone system, a lending library and a large barber shop. The First Class section had a swimming pool, a gymnasium, a squash court, a Turkish bath, an electric bath and a Verandah Cafe. First Class common rooms were adorned with ornate wood panelling, expensive furniture and other decorations, while the Third Class general room had pine panelling and sturdy teak furniture.The Café Parisien was located on a sunlit veranda fitted with trellis decorations and offered the best French haute cuisine for the First Class passengers.

"Titanic went down the Atlantic ocean with so many lives, but some mysteries remain!"

RMS Titanic
 
Murdoch, with an "ordinary master's certificate" and a reputation as a "canny and dependable man", had climbed through the ranks of the White Star Line to become one of its foremost senior officers. He was selected to be Titanic's Chief Officer, with 16 years of maritime experience now behind him.

Murdoch had originally been assigned as the ship's Chief Officer, though when the Titanic's skipper Edward J. Smith brought Henry Wilde, his Chief from his previous command, Murdoch was temporarily reduced to First while First Officer Charles Lightoller was in turn reduced to Second. The original Second, David Blair, would sit out the voyage altogether while the rest of the ship's complement of officers remained unchanged.

From left to right: First Officer William M Murdoch, Chief Officer Henry T. Wilde, an unidentified officer and Captain Edward J. Smith seen on the Olympic

Titanic's sinking

William Murdoch in his 30s.

Sinking of the RMS Titanic

Murdoch was the officer in charge at the bridge when at approximately 11.40pm on 14 April 1912 a large iceberg directly in Titanic's path was sighted. Quartermaster Robert Hichens, who was at the helm, and Fourth Officer Joseph Boxhall, who may or may not have been on the bridge during the collision, both stated that Murdoch gave the order "Hard-a-starboard", a tiller command which would turn the ship to port (left) by moving the tiller to starboard (right).

Boxhall also reported that Murdoch set the ship's telegraph to "Full Astern", though his testimony was contradicted by Greaser Frederick Scott and Leading stoker Frederick Barrett who stated that the stoking indicators went from “Full” to “Stop”. During or right before the collision Murdoch may have also given an order (as heard by Quartermaster Alfred Olliver when he walked onto the bridge in the middle of the collision) of "Hard a'port" (moving the tiller all the way to the port (left) side turning the ship to starboard (right)) in what may have been an attempt to swing the remainder (aft section) of the ship away from the berg in a common manoeuvre called a "port around" (this could explain Murdoch's comment to the captain "I intended to port around it"). The fact that such a manoeuvre was executed was supported by other crew members who testified that the stern of the ship never hit the berg.

Despite these efforts the ship made its fatal collision at an estimated 37 seconds[10] after the berg had been sighted. The ship's starboard side brushed the iceberg, buckling the hull in several places and causing rivets to pop out below the waterline, opening the first five compartments (the forward peak tank, the three forward holds and Boiler Room 6) to the sea.

After the collision, Murdoch was put in charge of the starboard evacuation during which he launched 10 lifeboats, containing almost 75% of the total number who survived. He was last seen attempting to launch Collapsible Lifeboat A. He was never seen again after Titanic disappeared into the Atlantic Ocean on the morning of 15 April 1912. His body, if recovered, was never identified. Within days of the disaster, several crew members and passengers spoke of an officer committing suicide in the ship's final moments; the officer is variously reported to be Moody, Wilde, or Murdoch. Several survivors, including the ship's lamp trimmer, Samuel Hemming, Second Officer Charles Lightoller and Colonel Archibald Gracie said they saw Murdoch attempting to free Collapsible A from the falls on the Boat Deck just before the bridge submerged and a huge wave washed him overboard into the sea.

Surviving wireless operator Harold Bride who also claimed to have seen Murdoch being washed overboard stated that after the ship sank, he saw Murdoch and Sixth Officer James Paul Moody in the water nearby Collapsible Lifeboat "B," but that they were already dead. Murdoch was clinging to a broken deck chair showing he died from hypothermia. Moody appeared to have a head injury (which prompted Bride to wonder at the time if Moody had been shot.) Bride also said that “Murdoch would never have shot anyone.”

The memorial to William Murdoch in Dalbeattie.

In his home town of Dalbeattie, Dumfries and Galloway, Scotland, there is a memorial to his heroism and a charitable prize has been established in his name. The charitable prize was given a donation by the James Cameron film for its false portrayal of Murdoch after the residents of Dalbeattie complained.

2 Civil War sailors from the ironclad USS Monitor buried at Arlington National Cemetery in Va.

From Barbara Starr, CNN Pentagon Correspondent





The remains of two men found in the wreckage of the Civil War ironclad USS Monitor 11 years ago are being laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia after an extensive but unsuccessful quest to discover the sailors' identities.

In what seems like a real-life "CSI" episode, a military lab was able to narrow the remains' identities down to five or six men using DNA samples, facial reconstructions and bones -- but not to the individual sailors. With the measurements from the remains, examiners were able to determine scientifically the average height of the individuals and their age. One of the sailors' teeth had been worn away where he held a pipe his whole life.

The researchers also had other clues like the items and clothing left with the two men, including buttons from a uniform, a gold ring, a comb, some coins and a pair of mismatched shoes.

One of the sailors "had a different shoe on his left foot than he did on his right," said David Krop, the conservation project manager for the Monitor. "It is hard to explain why that is. One of the possible options is as these guys were leaving the ship the night of the sinking, it was chaotic, it was dark. Perhaps they just grabbed the nearest clothing they could find."

The Monitor's 1862 battle against the Confederate ironclad CSS Virginia was perhaps the most famous naval engagement of the Civil War, signifying the end of wooden warships and the move to ironclad ones. The two ships traded point-blank shots at each other in the Battle of Hampton Roads before both withdrawing from the fight, each crew thinking the other had either been sunk or damaged enough to retire.

On December 30, 1862, the Monitor was caught in a storm while being towed off Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. Although equipped with various engines and pumps, the ship couldn't keep up with the volume of water rushing in, and it sank to the bottom with 16 sailors.

The Monitor went undetected until 1973. The two crew

members' remains were discovered in 2002 some 240 feet below the surface in the ship's 120-ton turret. Due to the location of the remains, it's possible the two were trying to get out through the gun turret when the ship went down. In addition to the remains in the turret, there were shoes, coats, boots and other personal items -- as if the crew members had been discarding clothing to keep from being pulled down into the water as they tried to escape.

As they narrowed down the men's identities, investigators were able to eliminate African-American sailors and officers. The bones were Caucasian, and the buttons were not from officers' coats.

More than 30 living descendants of the crew were to attend the Arlington burial. Because the remains are being buried as unknown, these two men will represent all 16 lost.

"The definition of family in this particular case is a little different than in a contemporary casualty loss," Krop said. "They view them as their ancestors, and they are there to honor all 16."

David Alberg, superintendent of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration's Monitor National Marine Sanctuary, said the burials are part of a long military tradition.

"Whether it was 150 years ago or two weeks ago in Afghanistan, the nation's commitment to bringing (its) fallen home, laying them to rest and returning them to their families stays as strong today as it ever was."

Capt. Bobbie Scholley, who led Navy dives to the wreckage, agreed.

"We needed to take all the appropriate steps necessary to recover those sailors with all the honors and dignities," Scholley said.

 

Maritime Disasters: MV Wilhelm Gustloff - The Sinking

January 30th, 1945. The Gustloff leaves Poland. This is the last photograph ever taken of the ship

With such disagreements over defensive actions and with such a useless escort-vessel, the Wilhelm Gustloff was easy pickings for the Russian submariners who hunted down fleeing German shipping. The submarine that’s after the Gustloff is the S-13, under the command of Capt. Alexander Marinesko.

Just before 8:00pm on the 30th of January, the S-13 spots the Wilhelm Gustloff. It’s in deep water with all its lights on, as a warning to other shipping, but to the crew of the Russian submarine, it’s a big, fat target. For a whole hour, Capt. Marinesko orders that no actions be taken. The Wilhelm Gustloff is a big prize and the Russians must be patient, lining up the perfect shot before they try and take the ship down.
Eventually, shortly after 9:00pm, Capt. Marinesko gives the order to fire. The S-13 lets loose three of a possible four torpodoes into the water. The fourth torpedo misfires and jams in its torpedo-tube. Quick thinking on the part of the S-13′s crew prevents the malfunctioning torpedo from exploding and destroying the submarine. The captain has no idea what his target is because it’s so dark outside. All he knows is that it’s a big German ocean-liner with all its lights on. 

At 9:16pm, disaster strikes.

The first torpedo slams into the Wilhelm Gustloff, forward of the bridge, blowing a hole in her port bow. The second torpedo strikes the ship further back, below the ship’s swimming-pool. The third torpedo hits the vessel amidships, destroying the engine-rooms.
To prevent the ship from sinking, the captains order all watertight doors to be closed at once. This unwittingly drowns many of the ship’s crew who would have been essential in manning lifeboats and organising evacuations. The second torpedo kills hundreds of the Women’s Naval Auxilliary who have used the empty ship’s swimming-pool as a sleeping-area. The third torpedo arguably creates the most damage of all.

By striking the ship’s engine-room, the third torpedo simultaneously disables the ship and isolates it from the outside world. With the engines crippled, the Wilhelm Gustloff is unable to move, but even more unfortunately, the damaged engines will no longer power the ship’s generators – all electrical power, from lights to telephones and even the ship’s wireless radio, suddenly lose power, plunging everything into darkness. If not for the ship’s emergency generator (for the wireless-room only), the Gustloff would have sunk without anyone knowing what had ever happened to it.

Although the wireless-radio is still operational (if just barely), its transmission range is only two kilometers. Within that radius, only the Gustloff’s escort-vessel, the Lowe, picks up the ship’s desperate S.O.S message. It immediately steams towards the ship.
Onboard the Gustloff, panic reigns supreme.

Whatever people are not immediately killed or drowned in the opening minutes of the attack are now desperate to get off the ship. There are barely enough lifejackets to go around and certainly not enough lifeboats. The three huge holes in the ship’s hull causes a dangerous list to Port and the ice on the ship’s boat-deck sends many people sliding into the freezing January waters. Whatever lifeboats there are, become next to useless because they are frozen to their davits by the freezing temperatures. Any crew who might be able to free them and lower them safely are probably dead already, trapped inside the ship’s hull.

In the chaos, only one lifeboat is lowered successfully. Most people just jump or slide into the water where lifebelts provide little protection against the freezing water. People jumping into the water wearing one of the few life-vests that are available are susceptable to broken necks. As their bodies hit the water and sink, their chins hit the floating vest, whipping their heads back and causing spinal injuries. What few lifeboats are lowered are done so incorrectly or haphazardly, causing them to break free from the ship and crash into the water. At least one lifeboat is smashed to pieces when an anti-aircraft gun on the boat-deck breaks loose as the Gustloff continues a steady list to port.

The Gustloff’s woefully underpowered wireless set only manages to raise the Lowe, the Gustloff’s one and only escort-vessel, which is able to reach the stricken cruise-ship’s side within fifteen minutes. She manages to rescue 472 people in the water and in lifeboats. The Gustloff continues to sink. The severe list to port means that it becomes impossible for people to get out of the ship. Stairways and corridors are packed with panicking passengers who can’t find their way up to the boat deck due to the lack of lights and the inability to climb the stairs due to the tilting of the ship. Soon, it is a case of “Every man for himself” as people take their lives in their hands and fight to find any way off the ship and on to safety. Soldiers and sailors shoot their own families and then commit suicide rather than freeze to death in the water. Firearms are also used by the ship’s officers to try and maintain order on the boat deck, but in a scenario where even the “Birkenhead Drill” (more famously known as “Women and Children First”) is being ignored by everyone, they do little more than add more panic to the already frantic situation unfolding all around them.

In less than forty-five minutes, the Gustloff had been struck by three torpedoes, it had listed to port, capsized and finally, vanished beneath the waves. 

In total, nine ships and boats of varying sizes rush to the Gustloff’s aid. Between them, they save a total of 1,252 people. The last person to be rescued was a baby which was found alive in one of the Gustloff’s lifeboats, seven hours after the ship went down. Of approximately 10,500 people onboard the Gustloff, anywhere from 9,200 to 9,500 people (the exact figure is unknown because no official record exists of how many people were really onboard) either drowned inside the Gustloff when it went down, or froze to death in the water trying to escape. It remains to this day, the biggest loss of life at sea from a single disaster. 

Today, the Wilhelm Gustloff is a protected war-grave. It lies in 44 meters of water, off the northwest coast of Poland.

Maritime Disasters: MV Wilhelm Gustloff - Operation Hannibal

Operation Hannibal and the Last Voyage

The Wilhelm Gustloff as a hospital ship off the coast of Oslo, Norway; 1940

For four years, between 1941-1945, the Gustloff had remained at anchor. During this time, it was used mostly to house sailors and submariners, but by 1944 and the Invasion of Normandy in June of that year, the War started going bad for Germany, especially on the Eastern Front. Operation Barbarossa, the attempt by Hitler to invade the Soviet Union, was a complete disaster and now the Russians wanted revenge. By January 1945, the German army was fighting off Italy, Russia, England, America, Commonwealth troops, Free French fighters and resistence-fighters on almost every front imaginable and it was rapidly losing the war.

As the Russian army pushed westward across Eastern Europe towards Poland, Operation Hannibal was executed.

Operation Hannibal was nothing less than the biggest seaborne evacuation in military history. It even eclipsed the famous Dunkirk Evacuation when the “little ships” were used to evacuate Allied soldiers from the beaches of France in 1940. In total, Operation Hannibal was going to try and evacuate about one and a quarter to two million people in roughly a thousand ships over the course of fifteen weeks. 

One of those ships, was the M.V. Wilhelm Gustloff.

On the 22nd of January, 1945, the Wilhelm Gustloff is given the order to prepare to take on thousands of escaping German refugees. Many are women, children and wounded soldiers. German civilians are terrified of what retributions the Russians might unleash as they sweep westwards and many want to escape back to Germany as fast as possible. The Wilhelm Gustloff is at anchor in the port city of Gdynia, German-Occuped Poland. The crew are worried. Apart from the fact that they have to house so many thousands of people, they are worried about the mechanical strain; the Gustloff’s engines have been cold for the past four years while it was in harbour, and there is no time to run the necessary maintenance and safety-checks. 

On the 28th of January, the Gustloff’s crew receive the order to prepare for evacuation. Thousands of refugees, mostly sailors, nurses, civilians and wounded soldiers file onboard, each person bearing a permit of travel that allows them refugee status and permission to board the Gustloff.

Gustloff’s last voyage took place on the 30th of January, 1945. On this day, the ship is ordered to raise anchor and steam westwards towards the German city of Kiel. The official passenger manifest lists about 3,000 people onboard (the Gustloff is rated to carry only 1,800 passengers and crew), but even this is not even close. In the panic of evacuations, thousands of people who aren’t supposed to be there, force their way onboard the already dangerously overcrowded ship. Even as the Gustloff leaves the harbour, people are offloaded onto the ship from harbour-tugs which pull up alongside while their passengers climb on, using the ship’s boarding-stairs. In total, the Gustloff is carrying about ten and a half thousand people. 

January 30th, 1945. The Gustloff leaves Poland. This is the last photograph ever taken of the ship

Onboard the Gustloff, things are far from easy. The ship is crammed so far beyond capacity that even with extra safety-equipment onboard, there is only enough lifeboats, flotation-vests and life-rings for less than half the ship’s full complement of passengers and crew. The passenger-quarters are so full that any space at all is fair-game as a sleeping-area during the voyage back to Germany. 

On the bridge, the Gustloff is in the combined command of four captains, three civilian captains and one military one. They argue constantly on the best precautions to take. Do they turn off the ship’s lights to prevent detection? Do they stay near the coast where Soviet submarines will find it harder to patrol? Do they go into deeper water away from the shoreline where lights from cities will certainly outline the shape of the ship? Do they go straight ahead to make the most of what short time they have, or do they steer a conventional wartime zig-zag course to try and throw off enemy submarines who might try and torpedo them? 

The only thing that the captains seemed to agree on was that their escort was wholly inadequate. All they had was one torpedo-boat, the Lowe, to protect them from the formidable force of the Russians and anything that they could throw against them. The ship was a sitting duck.