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          Three days into her patrol, the U-20 had spent most of her time dodging enemy destroyers and making emergency dives. Despite the lack of any kills, Schwieger's crew was determined and loyal. Even a failed attempt at sinking a freighter; the torpedo had misfired, had deterred the crew. Their spirits were high and their faith in their commander unwavered. On May 5th, the U-20 had made her first kill, though it was certainly nothing to brag about. The 132-ton schooner Earl of Lathom had been spotted off the west coast of Ireland. After boarding the vessel to confirm her British registry, Schweiger order her crew to abandon their vessel. As Earl of Lathom carried no armaments, the German sub captain decided to spare the seamen, allowing them to escape in a dilapidated lifeboat. The U-20 opened fire on the ancient wooden sailing packet and ripped her to shreds, sending her to the bottom in minutes. Schwieger hardly considered this a testament to his ability. A chance for a real kill came later that day when a 3,000-ton steamer emerged from a fogbank flying neutral colors. Since the British were known to use foreign flags to protect their vessels, Schweiger had no doubt it was indeed an English vessel and fired a torpedo. But he missed. The steamer escaped into the fog and the U-20 resumed hunting. Schweiger was discourage but determined nonetheless.

          Early the next morning, Candidate, a 6,000-ton merchantman was spotted. Schwieger surfaced the sub and attacked without warning. Submarine commanders were very leery of attacking large merchant vessels on the surface because many of the ships were armed with deck guns. Often the guns would be hidden behind bails of hay or packing crated stowed on deck. The U-20 fired her own deck gun at Candidate scoring one hit after another. As the wounded vessel listed heavily, Schweiger allowed her crew to take to the lifeboats, then fired a torpedo. Striking the engine room, the steamer righted herself and began to settle. The U-20's deck gun finished the job and sent the British vessel to the bottom. An hour later, Schweiger next victim appeared to be large passenger steamer. Schweiger guessed it to be a 14,000-ton White Star vessel and ordered his pilot to move into attack position. Everything was lining up perfectly when a lookout on the passenger ship spotted the sub. Within moments the steamer altered course and vanished into the early morning mist. Schweiger's luck, so it seemed, was fleeting at best. Later that morning, that would change. A mid-sized merchant steamer, the Harrison Line's 5,495-ton Centurion, came into view and though she flew no flag, there was no doubt she was British. The U-20 approached and fired a torpedo into the merchant ship, striking her close to the foremast. As she settled at the bow, her crew quickly abandoned ship. Schwieger fired another torpedo; Centurion went down minutes later. Schweiger was pleased, but longed for a larger target, an important target.

          As the fog cleared the following morning; Friday May 7th, Lusitania's passengers spotted the coast of Ireland on the distant horizon. As passengers and crew lined the port-side rails, Captain Turner stood on his bridge, planning out the last day of the crossing. At 7:50 the previous evening, he had received a short and simple message from Queenstown; "Submarines active off the west coast of Ireland". The message did not include orders to alter course. Without specific orders from the Admiralty, Lusitania's captain was to maintain his course. As a precaution he ordered the lifeboats swung out, their canvas covers removed and their supplies and equipment checked. Extra lookouts had been posted and any watertight doors and bulkheads were closed where ships operations would not be hindered. All windows had been blacked out and passengers had been asked to avoid any unnecessary activity outdoors. Above and beyond those measure there was little else Turner could do. He assured his passengers that the activity on deck was simply precautionary. If there was a danger, the morning would find an armed cruiser at Lucy's side. As radio silence was not unusual, Turner expected he would be warned if the danger increased. When the morning came and there was no sign of his escort, Turner figured he had missed her in the fog. Still wary of U-boat activity, Turner steamed past Fastnet, the southern point of Ireland and headed northwest towards the Old Head of Kinsale.

          By now the Admiralty was well aware of the sinkings the previous two days. Earl of Latham had been sunk just off Queenstown on May 5th and the following day Candidate and Centurion were lost south of the Conigbeg Lightship. The two latter sinkings had occurred east of where the old schooner had been attacked. Assuming the sub had been heading towards Liverpool, Lusitania could have been diverted to Queenstown to avoid an encounter in the relatively narrow St. George's Channel. At this point the reports and books I have read diverge greatly. At 11:02 AM a coded message was sent to Lusitania from Vice-Admiral Coke at Queenstown. The nature of this message is debated. While the Admiralty officially denied any such message, a copy of the log from he Valentia wireless station confirm the existence of the message. Since the message is coded, its meaning is argued. Some interpretations describe it as a simple request for identification. Captain Turner later testified that the message ordered him to put into Queenstown. At 12:15PM Turner ordered the ship swung to port. The turn was so sharp the ship leaned heavily and passengers, dishes and the like were tossed to the deck. Lusitania steamed for Queenstown.

          An hour later aboard the U-20 Lieutenant Schwieger was out on the conning tower, taking a bearing while eating his lunch. With only three torpedoes left and a crew weary from cat and mouse games with the cruiser Juno (the same cruiser Captain Turner had expected to escort Lusitania). Schwieger was to save atleast two torpedoes for his homeward journey. He was ready to head back. At 1:20 As he scanned the horizon, he caught site of a wisp of smoke. He leaned forward, squinting his eyes to make the outline of the distant vessel. Somewhere between 8 and 10 miles away, the ship was headed for shore. It was a large vessel. Schweiger's eyes widened as he counted the funnels. Four of them. A large four-stacker. Only the biggest liners had four stacks and this one was within reach, apparently unescorted. Schwieger gave the order to dive as he slid down the ladder to his bridge. As his crew made ready to submerge, he called out, "four funnels, schooner rig, upwards of 25,000 tons, speed about 22-knots." His pilot called back, "Probably Mauretania or Lusitania. Both are armed cruisers used for trooping". The U-20 moved into position as Schweiger kept his face glued to periscope, calling out course adjustments. For nearly an hour he tracked the Cunarder, hoping she held her course. At 2:10PM, as the U-20 closed to within 500 meters of Lusitania, time must have stood still for one decisive moment. Schweiger tightened his grip on the periscope and yelled, "Los!" ("Shoot!"). One G-Type torpedo streaked toward Lusitania.

          Deckhand Leslie Morton, stationed as an extra lookout on the starboard bow, spotted a burst of bubbles. About 500 meters to starboard, Morton stared in disbelief for a moment, then called out through his megaphone, "Torpedoes coming on the starboard side!" Morton did not wait to see if his report had been heard. He knew the ship was in trouble and left his post to warn his brother John, who was below decks off duty. It wasn't for another 30 seconds that Thomas Quinn, the starboard lookout in the crow's nest called out to the bridge as well. By this time it was too late. No sooner had the bridge officers acknowledged the report than the torpedo slammed into Lusitania's hull just aft of the bridge. The explosion sent a fountain of water and debris into the air. Only moments before impact, Captain Turner had been on the starboard wing bridge. When he saw the torpedo was going to strike directly underneath of him, he retreated to the enclosed bridge. The starboard wing was obliterated in the explosion. As shrapnel rained down onto the deck, another explosion violently shook the entire ship. On the bridge, the fire/flood indicator went, in Turner's words, "...bersek for most of the forward compartments of the ship..." Immediately Lusitania listed about 15-degrees to starboard. The bow slumped into the water as the ship steamed forward, still going roughly 18-knots. Turner knew in a moment his ship was doomed.

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