Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

Waiting in the Cold

We could still hear the cries as we rowed for the other boats, almost ghostly as they rose and fell. I could see the other women around me, some crying, some stone faced, some seemingly annoyed at the sound. I put my full attention to the oar in front of me, but those cries still echoed throughout the night. I wanted to clamp my hands over my ears to block them, but I could barely move my hands from the oars. I barely heard Officer Lowe directing the other boats to come close to us, and ordering women out to the other boats. I didn't even notice what was happening until he stood in front of me, "Miss, I'll need you to move to the other boats, we're taking this one back to find survivors."

I did not let go of the oar. "I will stay, sir."

"Miss, I cannot ask you to row. Please, join the other women."

"Then do not ask me, I shall row and be done with it." I looked down at the oar in my hands. "I fear I shall go mad if I do not have something to do, I can pull an oar, it will be enough." I could hear some of the other women in the nearby boats crying, and I shut my ears to them. I focused on the oar. I could row. I could not sit and think. Thinking would only send me to ruin.

Lowe drew in a breath, his young, clean shaven face showing his resolve firming. "Stay then, but you will follow my orders."

"Yes, sir." I stayed at my oar as he brought over more crewmen to man the other oars, directing two other men to join me on mine. Eventually we had a full complement and slowly began to row back towards the wreckage. It was quiet now, and I almost found I missed the cries. The silence was absolute, broken only by the sound of our oars and our breathing. The first bodies started bobbing by, and I will never forget the pale skin, almost blue, and the staring eyes on the man my oar bounced off of. It was a solid thunk, repeated as we made our way farther into the field. The boat did not shiver when we hit a body, it merely thunked off and we continued on. We moved even more slowly, trying to avoid hitting the bodies that we saw. Officer Lowe and few others were in the bow, casting a light over what was in front of us. He called out for survivors, for anyone to answer him. Some of the sailors muttered that it was pointless, but were quickly hushed by the others. I could hear the occasional rush of water from the bow, as a sailor lifted a body out of the way, or pulled them closer to see if they were alive. The first few bodies had given us a start, but as their light swept over the field, I felt numb. There were so many, all floating because of their life belts. We tried to be careful as we made our way through the field, avoiding bodies and wreckage equally, so the oars barely stirred the water.

I did not think. I could not think. The only thing I could do is row, my attention only on moving the oar in the oarlock. The others were quiet, all of us stilling when Lowe ordered it. He was searching for something, listening for a cry. We found a few people still alive, including a girl who had managed to get her hands on a whistle to alert us. She was wrapped in a blanket, one of the few we had, and moved back towards the tiller. One man who we pulled out joined us on the oars, another lay gasping towards the back of the boat. The gasping stopped after a few minutes. Lowe was giving the order for us to turn around and head back to the other boats when I stilled. It was faint, almost inaudible, but I heard something, a cry brought over on the wind that was stirring. I spoke up, "Officer Lowe, I can hear something."

Everyone in the boat froze, not even breathing. One of the sailors next to me looked out, squinting. "I hear it too, sir. Faint, but to the starboard."

Lowe looked out into the darkness, "Then row that way, there may be others." We all bent ourselves to the task, and it was good to leave behind that field of bodies. It was good to think of nothing more than rowing, stilling only when our course was adjusted as the sound grew slowly louder, changing our heading by a few degrees each time. It took a good deal of time to finally point ourselves right at it and start moving faster.