Dead Wake: The Last Crossing of the Lusitania

by Erik Larson

ON THE MORNING of May 4, 1917, anyone standing atop the Old Head of Kinsale would have seen an extraordinary sight. First there appeared six plumes of dark smoke, far off on the horizon. The day was unusually clear, the sea a deep blue, the hills emerald, very much like a certain day two years earlier. The ships became steadily more distinct. Wasplike with their long slender hulls, these were ships not seen in these waters before. They approached in a line, each flying a large American flag. To the hundreds of onlookers by now gathered on shore, many also carrying American flags, it would be a sight they would never forget and into which they read great meaning. These were the descendants of the colonials returning now at Britain’s hour of need, the moment captured in an immediately famous painting by Bernard Gribble, The Return of the Mayflower. American flags hung from homes and public buildings. A British destroyer, the Mary Rose, sailed out to meet the inbound warships, and signaled, “Welcome to the American colors.” To which the American commander answered, “Thank you, I am glad of your company.” On May 8, the destroyers began their first patrols, just a day beyond the two-year anniversary of the sinking of the Lusitania.