Chapter 12 MURDROS MEDITERRANEAN, GALLIPOLI CAMPAIGN JANUARY 1916 "OLYMPIC"
After 3 long months, my part in the Gallipoli Campaign was nearing its end. The operation had been a disaster.
Almost half of the young men I'd brought to the Greek shore either rode on hospital ships or never came home at all.
Most of these men were boys between ages 18 and 19. It made me sad to think that their lives ended so suddenly and so violently, and in my mind, needlessly.
"They knew they were getting into war when they signed up." Aquitania said.
"But that's just it, they didn't sign up." I replied.
"I heard that England's lowered the drafting age from 19 to just 16." I explained. Aquitania shook her head in disbelief.
"Poor things." She whispered. She was thinking the same thing I was. When England lost the older, more experienced men to the enemy, they brought in the younger amateurs.
There was a common saying amongst the soldiers that if you lived for 6 months you were a veteran. If you lived to be 21, you may as well have been 120.
Our thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the hospital ships. Scanning the ranks, I quickly spotted the largest ship of the group.
Her four funnels and bright green eyes were an instant give away. "Britannic!" I cried. Britannic looked around and her eyes rested on me. I ran forward.
Breaking rank, she rushed over. I hugged her. "Thank god you're safe." I whispered.
"Thank god indeed." She replied.
We broke apart and I pulled back to look at her. Her green eyes were dark with memory. "What happened?" I asked. She sighed.
"Arabic was torpedoed and sunk." She answered.
"Go on." I said, struggling to keep my voice calm.
"We passed by just as the last passengers were being rescued. She replied.
"How many were lost?" I asked.
"Around 50, 2 Americans among them." She replied.
"God." I whispered, shaking my head.
"What's America doing about it?" Aquitania asked.
"So far, nothing! They're being very isolationist. I don't know what we have to do to get them to see that we need them here!" Britannic growled.
"Surely they're doing something!" Aquitania cried, desperate for some response from the powerful country.
"President Wilson has called submarines 'the nuisance of the seas.' He's ordered US ships to escort neutral convoys to Britain. He's giving all out aid to the Entente. Not a single grain of food, a gun or a bullet is going to the Alliance." Britannic said.
"Well it's not like shipping could reach Germany anyway. Given that there's a wall of British battleships blocking them." I said.
Aquitania winced. "Can you please not talk about that?" She hissed.
I nodded. "Sorry, Aquitania." I said.
She nodded. "Thanks, I was just hoping that America might enter the war." She said.
"I know how you feel, Aquitania." I murmured.
"My sister died to get America involved on our side as a belligerent. The least I expect of the country is a more supportive response." She growled.
I sighed. "They'll have to act soon or they'll be seen as weak." I said.
Aquitania looked at me, an idea lighting her eyes. "What about Arizona, she's a battleship in the navy right? Maybe you could talk to her." She said.
"I won't use her like that!" I retorted.
"Somehow, I don't think you'll have to ask." Britannic growled.
"She was pestering me about an escort, but it would only slow me down." I said. "If I know Arizona, and I do, she'll do everything she can to get America in the war, with or without my asking. I just hope she doesn't pull a Lusitania." I muttered, ignoring Aquitania's wince.
"The sinking of their battleship at German hands would get America into the war for sure." Britannic said thoughtfully.
"Don't suggest it to her." I snapped.
Britannic backed up. "You really think that I'd hurt you that way?" She asked.
"If you did, I wouldn't blame you. I've spent more time with her than you." I said.
Britannic rolled her eyes. "For such a great ship Olympic, you can be so thick sometimes." She said. "If Arizona makes you happy then that's good enough for me." She butted me affectionately on the shoulder.
By now, the other hospital ships had docked and were loading on wounded soldiers. "Britannic, you've got 3300 this time!" Mauretania called. Britannic sighed.
"Unfortunate." She said.
I nuzzled her. "Nobody likes war, Britannic." I murmured. She nodded sadly.
"Are you coming too?" She asked.
"Yes." I replied.
"I've got troops of my own to take to Liverpool." Britannic nodded.
"How many?" She asked.
I knew what she was asking. "Less than 1000 of my 6000 initial troops remain this trip." I answered.
Britannic sighed. "I've got 500 of yours to take. In total only 2000 of yours are coming home." She said. I bowed my head.
"They're just boys. And to think, if I didn't carry them here, they wouldn't have gone and gotten themselves killed!" I whispered.
Britannic pressed against me. "It's not your fault, sis. These men knew the risks, draft or no draft." I nodded, too overcome with emotion to say anything.
"It'll be over soon." Britannic promised. "It has to be!" But to me, it sounded as though she was trying to convince herself.