History's endless ironies

History regularly competes with the best imaginings of Hollywood and often exceeds them. Steaming east out of New York, the RMS Carpathia, a Cunard Line transatlantic passenger ship, was bound for Rijeka, Croatia on the evening of April 14, 1912. As it was a quiet night, the Carpathia's wireless operator, Harold Cottam, left his Marconi radio set unattended and went to the bridge. Frantic distress calls from the RMS Titanic went unheard in his absence. Back at his station just after midnight, Cottom heard a call from the radio station at Cape Race, Newfoundland. It had routine message traffic for the Titanic. Cottom knew the wireless operator aboard the Titanic, a man named Phillips. Being a good chap, Cottom thought he would radio his friend before going to bed. It was 12:11 a.m. Phillips immediately signaled back: "We have struck ice; come at once." Cottom rushed to the bridge with the news. Suspicious of wireless messaging, then a newfangled technology, the bridge officers ignored him. Cottom then awakened the captain. On his orders, the Carpathia changed course and steamed at maximum speed to Titanic's last known position, some 60 miles away. They arrived at the scene shortly after 4 a.m. and found only lifeboats. The Titanic was gone. Carpathia eventually took on 705 survivors. Six years later, on July 17, 1918, the Carpathia was torpedoed and sunk by a German U-boat during World War I. Prior to its demise, the Carpathia was used as a troop ship to ferry American soldiers to Europe. Among the Doughboys was Frank Buckles, the last surviving American veteran of the Great War.