Carter Roy

The week of the Lusitania's crossing, several commercial ships sailing to England received a memo telling them to go north around Ireland, not south.

The Lusitania, mysteriously, never got that memo.

They also never got the naval escort they'd been promised.

Since the outbreak of the war, standard protocol for the Cunard line ships was to meet up with a navy ship as they approached the war zone.

This way, if there was an attack, the military ship could fire back.

The Juno was scheduled for the job, but never showed.

When he realized this, the chairman of the Cunard line contacted the British Navy, pleading for help.

None was sent.

Still, all of this could be blamed on accident and oversight, not willful endangerment.

But there's another layer to this theory, a choice that can't be called an accident.

Let's step away from Room 40 for just a sec.

In the summer of 1917, as the US was fighting in World War I, US Senator Robert La Follette claimed the Lusitania sinking wasn't what it looked like.

He said the ship's secret second manifest would prove it.

And as a sitting Senator, he demanded that Congress have the chance to review the documents.

In response, the Senate scheduled a vote to expel him from Congress.

Hmm, I wonder why.

La Follette threatened to bring in a customs officer who'd seen the manifest and would back him up.

And suddenly, well, wouldn't you know it, the expulsion vote was dropped.

La Follette kept his seats, though the alleged second manifest never became Senate business.

La Follette was denied a chance to prove his suspicion, but claimed he'd be vindicated by history.