I saw the torpedo coming, watched it, and did not turn to run away until it hit.   The explosion threw up water and splinters in showers.  I was struck twice on the heel and on my left leg.  My foot is still swollen, so that I have not been able to get away from here.  However I am one of the very fortunate.  After the explosion, the ship listed and I limped around to the port and high side.  There were a few excited ones, but they were easily controlled.  The worst was when relatives parted - mothers and their babies.  You can see how natural that would be.  One the whole that would be quite natural.  It was remarkable how cool the passengers were.  I went down to my cabin [B-32] but could not find a lifebelt.  The steward met me and told me she would be alright.  He got me a lifebelt from another stateroom and I went on deck again with it in my hand.  I did not feel any fear while I was standing.  A woman told me she could not find her baby and asked if we would be saved and where the lifebelts were.  I told her we would be alright and gave her my belt and tied it on to her.  I said, 'You are alright, go and look for your baby.'  Poor woman, few found them again on this earth.  Such a strange calmness with it all.  No hope.  She was sinking, yet no fear.  A young lady came and spoke to me about the terrible deed as calmly as if we were in the saloon and yet in a few minutes we were to go down.  At the last moment when she was disappearing I slid down to the side near the water.  There was a scream and I plunged with others to find ourselves in a seething mass drawn down by suction, but not too deep to rise, and down and down, again and again, to seize anything.  Sometimes a foot, but everyone trying to rise but not knowing by what ladder they climbed.  Strange as it may seem, I thought how cosy it was under the water and was surprised I did not feel the shock, yet without hope of coming to the surface.  But I came up and struck out to get away from the mass of floating debris and grasping hands.  I found a box, a man climbed on and about six clung to it a long time.  I do not know how long I hung on, but I felt I could not last and a woman told me she could not hang on longer.  I determinded to get away so I asked a man to shove me a floating lifebelt.  He did so and I told one of the men on the box to reach with an oar and put it on himself. I struck out on two spars and presently found the Cuban counsel [Julian de Ayala] in two lifebelts, one in front of him.  I asked him if he could spare it, but the poor fellow could not swim and was acting frantically.  I suppose at that moment if the ship had come up under him again, he would still think he had to struggle.  I did not think he would last long but he is still alive and without a bruise.  I came to a floating corpse with a belt that could help him no further, so unfastened the front, cut the lower straps near the knots at the back and managed to get it on with a struggle, for by this time I was feeling it a good deal, and then held on as long as I could, realizing that I had gone my limit and that it was only a matter of moments.  I knew no more till I found myself in a bunk with strange surroundings.  They had picked me up for dead in a small boat and transferred me to a tug.