At the muster, Matron checked everyone had their lifebelts tied properly. Some nurses were pulling their petticoats off, and I was about to join them when I remembered Sissy’s book, under my pillow. Oh my! I could not leave it behind. I slipped back, through the doors, down the staircase to F deck. Without wasting a second, I stuffed the book into my pillow-bag and then returned. Such a big ship – such a long way to and from my cabin. I burst through the main doors onto the deck, red-faced and breathless.

To my horror, my companions and Lifeboat 1 had gone. All that remained were a few petticoats folded neatly on deck. Clearly, the owners believed they would return to claim their garments once the emergency was taken care of. I raced to the rail and saw the lifeboat and its seventy-five occupants dangling just above the water.

A sailor was also leaning over the rail, watching, then shouting instructions to the two men above us who were handling the lifeboat davits, great metal cranes that swung the lifeboats out and then lowered them. Towards the stern, two of the lifeboat davits were also starting to move, both appeared to be lifting full lifeboats over the side. I could see a great deal of activity in that area and thought I should go there immediately. To add to my panic, the deck was rapidly taking on a steep slope.

About to hurry along to the next muster station, something came sliding in front of me, tripping me and sending me sprawling to the floor. Pain shot up my leg as I scrambled to my feet. The deck was tilting and the first sparks of panic got the better of me. I cried for help.

A loud whistle sounded above the screeching mechanism of the davits. One of the men working the lifeboats above our muster station must have seen me fall. He yelled something that didn’t reach me and pointed to his group. Now I think back, I must have been in shock because although I felt no fear, for a moment I was overwhelmed by hopelessness and couldn’t move. Matron Merriberry came racing around the corner with a clipboard in hand.

‘Good grief, Miss Smith! Why are you on the floor?’ she cried. ‘Where have you been! The captain’s given the order to man the lifeboats, but we’ve missed ours now. Come along, let’s hope the next one has room for us.’

The Britannic turned, headed towards a distant island, then the engines stopped. We hurried, I hobbled, pain in my ankle slowing me. Matron strode off in a walk that almost ran.

‘Come along, Miss Smith!’

‘My ankle, Matron. I fell, I can’t . . .’