Letter from George Rheims, to his wife, dated 19 April 1912
        (courtesy Fiona Nitschke Beckwith)

I dined with Joe Sunday evening and went up to my cabin to go to sleep around 11.00 P.M.  I felt, being in the front part of the ship, a strong shock and heard a noise that sounded like steam escaping, it was dreadful.  I thought we had an accident in the engine.  After one fourth of an hour there was an announcement informing us that we had collided with an iceberg but that there was no danger and we should all go back to sleep!!!  Since I noticed that the ship wasn't listing I thought nothing of it.  Soon after Joe came to join me and we stayed together until the end.  Around 11.30 all passengers left their cabins.  The ship tilted more and more.  An officer came to tell us to put on our life jackets.  You can well imagine how this news affected me!

I went down to my cabin to put on some warm clothing and my life jacket.  Joe did the same and rejoined me on the boat's deck, where by now a crowd of people gathered.  We started lowering the lifeboats down in the ocean – 16 lifeboats for 3,000 people.  The men were forbidden to use the lifeboats.  A few men – traitors – did not hesitate to jump into the lifeboats just the same.  In general the people's attitude admirable.  It took one and a half hours for all 16 lifeboats to be lowered.  A few of them were only half full.  As the last lifeboat was leaving I saw an officer kill a man with one gun shot.  The man was trying to climb aboard that last lifeboat.  Since there was nothing left to do, the officer told us, “Gentlemen, each man for himself, goodbye.”  He gave us a military salute and shot himself.  This was a man!!

We were about 1,500 people left on board without any means of escape.  It was death for us all.  I can not convey how calm everyone was.  We said goodbye to all our friends and everyone prepared himself to die properly.  Joe took both my hands and said, “George if you survive look after my babies.  If I live you will not have to worry about Mary.”  I then left him for one minute to go back to my cabin and find our photograph, then went up to join Joe on the deck.  We then undressed, keeping on only our underwear.   I did not lose one second of composure and had decided to jump overboard to save myself by swimming.  I can not describe the unbelievable things I saw at that moment.  Suddenly the ship started nosediving and I was thrown to the deck by an explosion.  I found myself entangled in chairs and ropes.  I was able to free myself.  Joe wanted to go back in the rear of the ship.  I told him it would mean death and that he should follow me.  He told me that he could not swim well enough.  Then I took my momentum and jumped overboard.  The fall seemed endless, then suddenly icy cold and a long plunge down into the ocean.  When I came up again I started swimming vigorously to get away from the ship fearing that I would be dragged down with it.  It was frightfully cold.  Suddenly I saw the Titanic going straight down with horrible explosions and piercing screams.  All the passengers were pressed against the railing like flies.  There was a big whirlpool swirling movement, then silence.  Suddenly there were pitiful pleas that I will never forget.  It was all those who were able to float crying for help.  It was atrociously grim, mysterious – supernatural.  This lasted for half an hour, then all was quiet.  The poor people went down.

I swam alone in the night, when at a distance I noticed a raft, half sunk and filled with men.  It took me I suppose 15 minutes to reach it.  At first they refused to let me come aboard, but I was able to persuade them after all.  I stood up on the raft.  We were about 20 men and women, with icy water up to our thighs.  We had to balance ourselves to avoid capsizing.  I stayed six hours in my underwear, shaking with cold.  Twice I thought of throwing myself into the ocean and each time the thought of you held me back.  I regained courage and resumed – I don't know how – my efforts to stay on the raft.  What a horrible night!  We had to push back about 10 poor people who wanted to climb aboard.  We were filled to the limit.  During the night eight people died from cold or desperation.  I am sparing you the details for they are too frightful.  I had the pleasure to be able to save a poor man, father of nine children, who asked me to give him a picture of myself with a dedication fit for the King of England.  At 8.00 in the morning a lifeboat from the Titanic came to pick us up and took us aboard the Carpathia.  They took marvelous care of us.

I had some trouble walking, my feet being frostbitten.  Here I am settled at Harry's and I think that a little rest of a few days will do me a lot of good.

I affirm that I am a little tired.  You must not hold it against me for ending this letter so abruptly.

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Transcribed verbatim from The Titanic, the Psychic and the Sea, Rustie Brown, Blue Harbor Press, 1981. The original was in French, and unfortunately MS Brown gives no information on the source of the translation.