She was holding on to a large chair that gave her extra buoyancy. It had not arrived by accident. Using his other arm to swim, Ernie Gill had guided it over to her so that both of them had something to cling to. Shivering with cold, Irene was unable to express her thanks in words. Gill, however, was shaking with fury and the expletives came out of him like steam escaping from a kettle.

‘Bleeding Huns!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’ll fucking kill the bastards!’

CHAPTER TWO

Reaction was immediate and savage. As soon as news of the disaster reached Liverpool, mobs went on the rampage. Because the Lusitania was held in great affection in her home port, her sinking produced outrage, disbelief and an overpowering urge for revenge. Anyone with a German name became a target. Shops were looted, houses raided and people beaten up at random. The fact that they were naturalised British citizens was no protection. They were hunted indiscriminately. When one man protested that his family had lived in the country for generations, he was grabbed by the mob, stripped naked then tarred and feathered. Many policemen shared the feelings of the vigilantes and chose to turn a blind eye to their campaign of destruction. As the homes of German families were plundered then set alight, a pall of smoke hung over the city.

Liverpool was not alone in its fury. All over Britain, a German birth certificate was the mark of a victim. When it was learnt that over a thousand people on the Lusitania had lost their lives, the search for scapegoats was intensified. London offered an unlimited supply of them. In the East End, where many German immigrants had settled, vengeful gangs stormed along a trail of terror, meting out punishment with remorseless efficiency.

Nor was the West End immune to attack.



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