One of the dastardly tragedies of the war was the sinking of the Lars Kruse, a ship flying the Danish flag and which had been chartered by the Belgian Relief Commission. This was sunk in the early part of February, 1917, and the crew of nineteen men, together with the captain and other officers, with the exception of the first mate and Axel Moeller, the first engineer, perished in the bitter cold sea. No warning was given by the attacking submarine; indeed, no sight of it was had by the crew. Delivering its torpedo as it lay submerged, it silently stole away into the night after the murders had been done. In the maritime court in Copenhagen Mr. Moeller tells of the sinking of the ship. Dressed as the regulations of the German autocrat demanded, with the balloon, flag and bunting displayed at each of the mastheads, together with other marks of identification, the ship was steaming along in the bright moonlight when she was struck, according to the testimony of the engineer. SHIP NOT STRUCK BY A MINE. The fact that the ship was hit near the fourth hatch alone combats the theory that she was struck by a mine. In this latter case the mine would have struck her nearer the bow. The ship was near the mouth of the English channel when hit. In an instant she started to settle, and the crew at once lowered away the single lifeboat. The boat had hardly started over the side, however, before the ship lurched, and with a mighty heave went down stern first. She seemed to turn a back somersault, according to the engineer, and because of the fact that the lifeboat was not clear it was dragged under. The men succeeded in cutting the ropes, however, and the lifeboat came to the surface, although bottom side up. Engineer Moeller was struck on the head as the boat came to the surface, but, although he was momentarily stunned, the icy water quickly revived him. Striking out for the lifeboat, the engineer soon had a tight grip on her side. A man struggling in the water grasped his wrist, but by a quick movement he wrenched himself free, and then, climbing upon the boat, reached out and caught the man by the hand. Then began a slow struggle to get him aboard, but the men were unequal to the task, and the man in the water sank. Part of the skin and flesh of his hand remained in the fingers of Moeller, showing the desperation with which he had clung to the man's hand. Three other men, who were fast becoming exhausted, were assisted upon the boat, where they lay sprawled across its bottom. Four others were in the water, making a total of seven who were alive. Water and air were freezing cold, and Moeller, who was in the water, together with three others, held to the gunwales with stiffened fingers. Within the hour one of the sailors gave up the struggle, and with a farewell to the others slid quietly into the depths. PASSENGERS' AGONIZING SUFFERINGS.