Surviving the Sinking of the President Lincoln

Yeoman George T. Burke of Jackson Center, Ohio was serving as a crewmember aboard the transport U.S.S. President Lincoln when it was torpedoed in the wee hours of the morning of May 31, 1918. He described the attack and its immediate aftermath in the following letter written to his family less than two weeks after the event.

    "At 3:57 a.m., a torpedo struck the bow of the boat on the port side and then another hit about the same place, the another hit about the same place, the third hit in the after part of the ship and made it list to the port side about 10 degrees," Burke recalled. "But after a few minutes the boat righted herself and all on board thought she was not going to sink. Then the captain got orders from the engine room that she was filling fast and the pumps could not pump the water out. Then the word was sounded for all hands to abandon the ship and we went over the side but not jumping over. We had lifelines and ladders to go down and not a single man jumped from the ship. Everybody was calm as if nothing had happened and while going over the side, everyone was singing and happy and did not get discouraged for we knew we would win out in the end. I sure hated to see the old ship go down for she was a good old ship and I liked it better every day I was on it, but as the enemy got the best of us we had to take the consequences."

    Yeoman Burke's letter first saw publication in the June 21, 1918, edition of the Jackson Center News. 

The sinking of the U.S.S. President Lincoln occurred on May 31, 1918, just two days after the vessel departed Brest, France. The sinking occurred in what were thought to be safe waters and cost the lives of 26 men. Most of the survivors were picked up by the U.S.S. Warrington and returned to Brest.

New York, New York

June 12, 1918

          We left Brest, France on the 29^th of May and everything went fine that day. I turned in or went to bed and got up at 2:45 a.m. next morning on account of being in the war zone. On the morning of the 20^th, I started to work at 7:30 on the engineer’s log. I had that finished about 11:30 then I had my dinner and started to work on some repair letters that were to be sent to Washington on our arrival in port and worked on them the rest of the afternoon. I went to bed at 7:45 and sure had a good night’s rest. I woke up at 3:00 next morning and feeling fine. I took a bath at 5:00 then went up on the top side and looked for submarines but failed to see any at that time. I had my breakfast at 7:30 and immediately after that started to work on the log again for that day.

At 3:57 a.m., a torpedo struck the bow of the boat on the port side and then another hit about the same place, the another hit about the same place, the third hit in the after part of the ship and made it list to the port side about 10 degrees. But after a few minutes the boat righted herself and all on board thought she was not going to sink. Then the captain got orders from the engine room that she was filling fast and the pumps could not pump the water out. Then the word was sounded for all hands to abandon the ship and we went over the side but not jumping over. We had lifelines and ladders to go down and not a single man jumped from the ship. Everybody was calm as if nothing had happened and while going over the side, everyone was singing and happy and did not get discouraged for we knew we would win out in the end.

The President Lincoln depicted in happier times, when it was part of the Hamburg-American Line engaged in transporting immigrants to the U.S. The 32,500-ton vessel was launched in 1907 and upon the outbreak of war, remained at the Port of New York. The German crew did extensive damage to the vessel in 1917 just prior to the U.S. government seizing the ship upon the outbreak of hostilities in April 1917. After being repaired and refurbished, the President Lincoln made five voyages carrying American troops to France, and was returning after completing that fifth voyage when three torpedoes from the U-90 struck her. The ship sank in roughly 20 minutes but suffered a relatively low loss of life. 

We had on board the Lincoln when she was torpedoed 715 officers and men and lost 26 of them; three officers and 23 men. If they had not got excited or had kept a cool head they would have been saved for all who went over the side were saved. I sure hated to see the old ship go down for she was a good old ship and I liked it better every day I was on it, but as the enemy got the best of us we had to take the consequences. But one thing sure, it was not a disaster. It was a battle between the Lincoln and the sub and the sub got us before we got them. But if they were victorious, so were we in a way, as all of the crew were saved except a few who could have been had they not become excited.

The torpedo boats had left sometime during the night and were not very far away but far enough that we were on life rafts and in the lifeboats from 9:27 a.m. until 11:30 p.m. but everybody was comfortable and happy. About three-fourths of a hour after the ship had gone down with Old Glory flying, the submarine came upon us and wanted to knew where the captain was. The first boat, the one the captain was on, told the captain of the sub that our captain had gone down with the ship. The sub went around all the other boats and received the same answer. About noon, the sub left but returned about 2:30 and stayed around until about 5 o’clock taking one officer aboard and holding him prisoner. He was our first lieutenant.

Survivors of the U.S.S. President Lincoln adrift at sea on May 31, 1918. The U-90 searched the lifeboats for any surviving officers and took Lieutenant Edouard Izac captive and returned with him to Germany. In one of the most extraordinary stories of the war, Izac escaped captivity to Switzerland and later was awarded the Medal of Honor. Izac served several terms in Congress and upon his death in 1990 at the age of 98, he was the last surviving WWI Medal of Honor recipient. 

We put up a white flag and then took things as easy and comfortable as possible. Each boat had enough to eat for 60 men for two days and enough water to last five days, so you see we were not bad off. About 11:15 we sighted a light out on the horizon and as soon as we did, we started to burn red lights and send up red sky rockets and in 15 minutes two torpedo boat destroyers, the U.S.S. Warrington and the U.S.S. Smith, came and took us aboard and started to feed us. They gave us hot coffee, sandwiches, and hot beans. They sure did treat us fine. I was taken aboard the Warrington which had our captain, lieutenant, commander, and chief engineers.

We were given bunks and believe me I did some sleeping for I was tired and wanted some rest after being in the water from 9:30 a.m. to 11:30 p.m. When I woke up in the morning, it was 9:30 and when I was washed they gave me some hot coffee, three ham sandwiches, and some hardtack and it was surely good. We were on the Warrington for two days and when we arrived in the harbor of Brest, there was a Great Northern transport waiting for us. We were taken aboard and given bunks immediately and then had a big dinner. We had roast turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, dressing, celery, lemon pie, two kinds of cake, and it sure was some dinner. After that they had movies for the crew of the President Lincoln.

Survivors of the U.S.S. President Lincoln aboard the U.S.S. Warrington upon their return to Brest. 

They sure have treated us fine on board this ship but I would sooner be on the President Lincoln than any other ship in the U.S. Navy for one reason: she was named after one of the greatest men that the U.S. and world has ever known. She is lying about 500 miles from France and some of my shipmates are lying there with her. But they did their bit in this great conflict and have been given credit for what they did.

Source:

Letter from Yeoman George T. Burke, U.S.S. President Lincoln, Jackson Center News (Ohio), June 21, 1918, pgs. 1 & 4