Free A Night to Remember by Walter Lord

persuaded her that the company might make them pay for the damage.
    Many of the steerage men climbed another emergency ladder from the forward well deck, and then up the regular First Class companionway to the boats.
    Others beat on the barriers, demanding to be let through. As Third Class passenger Daniel Buckley climbed some steps leading to a gate to First Class, the man ahead of him was chucked down by a seaman standing guard. Furious, the passenger jumped to his feet and raced up the steps again. The seaman took one look, locked the gate and fled. The passenger smashed the lock and dashed through, howling what he would do if he caught the sailor. With the gate down, Buckley and dozens of others swarmed into First Class.
    At another barrier a seaman held back Kathy Gilnagh, Kate Mullins and Kate Murphy. (On the Titanic all Irish girls seemed to be named Katherine.) Suddenly steerage passenger Jim Farrell, a strapping Irishman from the girls’ home county, barged up. “Great God, man!” he roared. “Open the gate and let the girls through!” It was a superb demonstration of sheer voice power. To the girls’ astonishment the sailor meekly complied.
    But for every steerage passenger who found a way up, hundreds milled aimlessly around the forward well deck … the after poop deck … or the foot of the E Deck staircase. Some holed up in their cabins—that’s where Mary Agatha Glynn and four discouraged roommates were found by young Martin Gallagher. He quickly escorted them to Boat 13 and stepped back on the deck again. Others turned to prayer. When steerage passenger Gus Cohen passed the Third Class dining saloon about an hour after the crash, he saw quite a number gathered there, many with rosaries in their hands.
    The staff of the First Class à la carte restaurant were having the hardest time of all. They were neither fish nor fowl. Obviously they weren’t passengers, but technically they weren’t crew either. The restaurant was not run by the White Star Line but by Monsieur Gatti as a concession.
    Thus, the employees had no status at all. And to make matters worse, they were French and Italian—objects of deep Anglo-Saxon suspicion at a time like this in 1912.
    From the very start they never had a chance. Steward Johnson remembered seeing them herded together down by their quarters on E Deck aft. Manager Gatti, his Chef and the Chefs Assistant, Paul Maugé, were the only ones who made it to the Boat Deck. They got through because they happened to be in civilian clothes; the crew thought they were passengers.
    Down in the engine room no one even thought of getting away. Men struggled desperately to keep the steam up … the lights lit … the pumps going. Chief Engineer Bell had all the watertight doors raised aft of Boiler Room No. 4—when the water reached here they could be lowered again; meanwhile it would be easier to move around.
    Greaser Fred Scott worked to free a shipmate trapped in the after tunnel behind one of the doors. Greaser Thomas Ranger turned off the last of the 45 ventilating fans—they used too much electricity. Trimmer Thomas Patrick Dillon helped drag long sections of pipe from the aft compartments, to get more volume out of the suction pump in Boiler Room No. 4.
    Here, Trimmer George Cavell was busy drawing the fires. This meant even less power, but there must be no explosion when the sea reached No. 4. It was about 1:20 and the job was almost done when he noticed the water seeping up through the metal floor plates. Cavell worked faster. When it reached his knees, he had enough. He was almost at the top of the escape ladder when he began to feel he had quit on his mates. Down again, only to find they were gone too. His conscience clear, he climbed back up, this time for good.
    Most of the boats were now gone. One by one they rowed slowly away from the Titanic, oars bumping and splashing in the glass-smooth sea.
    “I never had an oar in my hand before, but I think I can row,” a