Chapter 5

But to return to our own adventures on this misty morning; we not only saw gulls rising from the sea, and boards floating on the water, but we also encountered English mines adrift, which had parted from their moorings, and to these we thought it safer to give a wide berth. At last the fog lifted, and we discovered in the distance, a few knots away, a steamer; we immediately went in pursuit. Rapidly it steamed ahead, but we caught up with it, and found it belonged to the Dutch-Batavian Line, but as it was steering for the English coast, towards the mouth of the Thames, we took for granted it carried a contraband cargo. We signaled for it to stop, but the steamer refused to obey our command and increased its speed. Having ascertained that we could easily overtake it, we spared our shot, which must be carefully preserved for more useful purposes. After a chase which lasted about three quarters of an hour only a thousand meters remained between us. The Dutch captain wisely gave up a further attempt to escape, and awaited our orders. In compliance with my signal he sent his first officer in a boat with the ship's papers. While we lay alongside the steamer, gently rocking to and fro, the crew and passengers flocked on deck to gaze at us with wondering eyes, and we in return tried to discover to what nationality they belonged.

On reading the papers the officer handed me, I saw the steamer was the "Batavian IV," destined for London, carrying a cargo of provisions, which is contraband of war. I had to make a rapid decision as to the fate of the steamer, and I resolved to bring the "Batavian" into one of the Belgian ports now in our possession. No U-boat had ever attempted such a feat before, but why not try? Of course we had to cover a long distance with the imminent threat of being overtaken by English warships, but if we did succeed, it was a very fine catch, and after all,--nothing venture, nothing have. Besides the misty weather was in our favor, and it would only take a few hours to reach the protection of our batteries on the Flemish coast.

The Dutch officer was notified that a prize crew would be at once sent on board his steamer to conduct it to the port of Zeebrugge. He opened wondering eyes, but made no protest, for he was fully aware of our cannons turned on his ship and of the loaded pistols of our crew. The crew and passengers on board the Dutchman were no less astounded when our prize command, consisting of one officer and one sailor, climbed up on deck. I could not well dispense, myself, with more men, and in case my prize was released by the English, it would be better they had so few prisoners of ours to take.

The Dutch captain raised several objections at being led away captive in this manner; above all he was afraid of the German mines strewn before the entrance of Zeebrugge, but my officer reassured him by telling him we should lead the way and he would therefore run no risk. He finally had to resign himself to his fate. So we proceeded towards the shores of Flanders; we, in the proud consciousness of a new achievement, and the Dutchman lamenting over the seizure of his valuable cargo. The passengers must have wondered what was in store for them. Many of the ladies were lightly clad, having been roused in fright from their morning slumbers, and their anxious eyes stared at us, while we merrily looked back at them.

Our officer on board exchanged continual signals with us, and we were soon conscious, with a feeling of envy, as we gazed through our field glasses, that he was getting on very friendly terms with the fair sex on board our prize. We had feared at first that he might have some disagreeable experiences, but his first message spelled, "There are a great many ladies on board," and the second, "We are having a delicious breakfast," and the third, "The captain speaks excellent German," so after this we were quite reassured concerning him.

An hour may have elapsed when a cloud of smoke on the eastern horizon announced the approach of another steamer, and the idea that we might perhaps capture a second prize ship was very alluring. The wisdom of abandoning for a while our first captive was considered somewhat doubtful; if we delayed it might escape after darkness set in, but when I heard my officers exclaim "What a fine steamer!" I decided to try for it. The "Batavian" was ordered to proceed slowly on the same course, and we would catch up with it later; then turning my attention to steamer No. 2, I made quickly in her direction to intercept her on her way to England. After half an hour's pursuit we signaled for her to stop, and we discovered she was also Dutch. The captain, seeing it was useless to try and escape, put out a boat and came on board with the ship's papers; he seemed thoroughly displeased at the meeting, and hoped no doubt by coming himself to get away more easily, but of this expectation he was to be sadly disabused. On discovering that he was also carrying contraband of war--cases of eggs for London--I ordered him to follow us to Zeebrugge. One officer and a stoker, for I could not spare another sailor, accompanied him as our prize command on board his ship, the "Zaanstroom," and after a lapse of an hour and a half, followed by No. 2, we caught up with No. 1.

The difficulty of my task can be easily imagined, for I was obliged to make the two steamers follow each other at a given interval and at the same speed; like a shepherd dog herding his flock I had to cruise round my two captives and force them to steer a straight and even course, for one tried occasionally to outdistance the other, probably with the desire to escape in the foggy weather, which increased my fear of not reaching the Flemish coast before dark.

But finally I got the steamers into line, and where persuasion might have failed the menace of my cannons was doubtless my surest reason for success.

My second officer on the "Zaanstroom" signaled that everything was going to his liking and that they were just sitting down to a savory meal of dropped eggs. This was reassuring news, and I could also feel tranquil on his behalf; besides in a few hours we should be safely under cover of our coast artillery. We notified the Pilot Depot by wireless to send us a pilot for each ship, and our messages having been acknowledged we were certain of being warmly welcomed, and that every preparation would be made for the reception of our two prizes.

The closer we got to the coast the heavier the fog lay upon the water, a not unusual experience at sea. We had to advance with the greatest caution; our U-boat led the way to confirm anew the assurance we had given our two steamers that they were in no danger of mines. We had to measure the depth of water repeatedly with the lead, and so doing we had to stop very often; otherwise the lead being dragged by the current draws the line to an inaccurate length. It is but too easy a matter to run aground off the coast of Flanders, as submerged sandbanks are everywhere to be encountered, and this would have been in our present case a most unfortunate occurrence. This continual stopping rather disturbed the order of our march, for steamers are more unwieldy and less accustomed to rapid maneuvering than war vessels. Luckily all went well with us, for after a fine trip of several hours we gladly greeted our German guard-ships lying off the port of Zeebrugge, and the lighthouse on the mole beckoned to us from afar through the thin afternoon mist.

We quickly surrendered our two captive's to the patrol of the port authorities, into whose care and surveillance they were now entrusted. Our job for the day was over, and we could joyfully hurry to our berth within the harbor. We passed along the tremendous stone quay of the artificial port of Zeebrugge; it extends several kilometers, and was built by Leopold II with English money; it had cost many, many millions, and was intended to serve quite another purpose than its present one. We could look with defiance at the mouth of our German cannons that gaped over the highest edge of the jetty towards the sea, as if awaiting the foe.

Farther on up the mole, instead of English troops that the King would so gladly have sent over in transports to march through neutral Belgium and pay us an uninvited visit, stood, side by side, our own brave fellows of the Army and of the Navy. Men from every branch of the service, in their different uniforms, were visible, as they crowded on the pier to witness our arrival with our two prize boats, for the news of this unusual capture had already spread far and wide, and they all wanted to satisfy their curiosity. Their enthusiasm would have been even greater had they guessed that concealed within the hull of our two vessels an Easter feast of undreamed-of dainties lay in store for them. But even without this incentive a tremendous cheer from a thousand throats hailed our appearance as we rounded the mole, and our thirty voices returned as hearty, if not as loud, a three times repeated cheer for the garrison of Zeebrugge. Our tow lines were caught by the eager hands of the sailors, and in a jiffy we were lying securely alongside the quay, safe in port to rest in peace a day or two after a many days' cruise enlivened by such exciting events. Our friends of the Navy, whom we had not seen since the beginning of the war, came to visit us at once; much gay news was exchanged and also sad regrets expressed at the loss of dear fallen comrades.

Shortly afterwards one of the Dutch captains, escorted by two guards, asked me to grant him an interview, and I was glad to make his personal acquaintance; we discussed over a little glass of port wine, which we were both surely entitled to, the incidents of the day, and he gave vent to his affliction at being thus seized, by ejaculating: "A great steamer like mine to be captured by a little beast like yours!" I could sympathize with his feelings, for he had sustained a severe pecuniary loss, and he well knew what would become of his ship and cargo according to prize law, but I suspected he found some consolation in having a companion in misfortune, for the other Dutch captain had to submit to the same conditions. We shook hands and parted excellent friends, knowing that each one of us had only accomplished his duty.

Before making my official report I inspected my two prizes that were docked just behind us; a chain parted them from the rest of the quay, with sentries placed on guard. I gave the preference of my first visit, naturally, as a polite man should, to the steamer with so many of the fair sex on board. I hoped that by appearing surrounded by my officers I should dispel their fear of the "German barbarians." I was told the ladies belonged to a variety troupe that was to give a performance the next evening in London. Poor London, to be deprived by our fault of an enjoyable evening!

Among the other passengers were Belgians and French, who had waited six weeks in Holland for a chance to get across, and also an American reporter of the Hearst newspaper. He had a camera for taking moving pictures, and we discovered later that he had photographed the whole occurrence of the capture of the ship by our submarine. A few days later the _Graphic_ of March 27, 1915, published several of his pictures, which eventually found their way to many American papers.

I was ordered that evening to dine with the Commanding Admiral of the Marine Corps, Excellency von Schröder, and a motor called for me and took me to Brügge where he resided. The peaceful landscape and the ploughed fields betrayed but few signs of war, and I saw Belgian peasants and German soldiers planting together the seed for the coming harvest.

While the authorities were passing judgment on my two prizes I had a chance to visit the surrounding country. The English had destroyed in their retreat everything in Zeebrugge, except the new Palace Hotel, the new Post Office, and the Belgian Bank. I made the most of this short opportunity to observe the doings of our men in this conquered land paid for with German blood. I was interested to note how our Marines had been incorporated in every branch of the Army service, and how easily they adapted themselves to this new life. They served as infantry in the trenches, as artillery behind the great coast guns, and also as cavalry mounted on big Flemish mares. They had even been transformed into car conductors on the electric line that runs behind the dunes between Zeebrugge and Ostend. In fact they filled every kind of position, and few Belgians were to be seen. We had created here a second German fatherland and home, notwithstanding the enemy's reports that we had acted like Huns and barbarians, but as neither the country nor the people were of great interest to me my attention was centered on the study of our own troops.

Meantime the unloading of our steamers had begun and I had to supervise it myself. As the cargoes were composed of perishable foodstuffs the usual delays were overcome, and hundreds of sailors and soldiers were ordered to unload the ships. Out of the hold rose newly slaughtered pigs, and sheep, and ducks, which were at once distributed among the various regiments. Two hundred barrels of the best Munich beer were rolled over the quays, and two barrels found their way on board our little boat, which no one could begrudge us. On the "Zaanstroom" there were 4,400 boxes of fresh eggs, each box containing 1,800 eggs, and I was told by an Army officer that every man of the Northern Army received eight eggs for the Easter festival.

On the following afternoon the nationality of the crew and of the passengers was recorded; a number of them were sent as prisoners of war to concentration camps, and many touching farewells ensued between the men and the women who were left behind. The others were taken on a special train under military guard to the Dutch frontier. The German sailors on whom this mission devolved looked very jolly as they sat armed to the teeth in the railway carriages, by twos, watching over two pretty variety actresses, and I think they would willingly have prolonged the journey farther.

I walked along the train to say goodbye to the passengers, who had so unwillingly made our acquaintance, and I was warmly thanked by an old American, to whom I personally had done a small favor, for my courteous treatment; he spoke in the name of all the passengers who had experienced also the greatest civility at the hands of the port authorities. I declined these words of thanks, for they had only received the treatment that was their proper due.

After the train had left, the hour of our own departure had struck; we cast off the lines that had kept us bound for two such memorable days on the Flemish coast. In passing by, I waved a farewell to the two Dutch captains, and away we went--westward ho!

VII

OFF THE COAST OF ENGLAND

Our boat carried us speedily away farther and farther towards the west, and soon the lighthouse on the mole and the outline of the country we had conquered faded away in the evening twilight. Before long we should be surrounded by only hostile shores.

We first sighted the French port of Boulogne where the imposing bronze statue of Napoleon I stands on a marble column fifty-three meters high, with eyes turned towards the English coast. It was built to commemorate the expedition planned by Napoleon in 1803 against the sons of Albion, whose descendants have so recently landed on French soil, and as they lie there encamped, they may wonder, when gazing at the statue of the great Emperor, if he would have welcomed them with the same enthusiasm with which they have been received by the present rulers of France.

On our very first day in the French Channel we were able to sink several steamers, after the crews had left in their lifeboats, and on general lines a similar picture was traced at every sinking. We were now granted our first opportunity to steer a submarine above and below the waters of the North Atlantic. The ocean seemed to rejoice at our coming, and revealed itself to us in all the glory of a March storm. Only those who have seen such a storm can realize its proud majesty. The gigantic, blue-black waves, with their shining crests lashed by the west wind, came rushing onwards into the open mouth of the Channel, and the hemmed-in waters, roaring and surging, dashed themselves against the sharp, rocky points of the French coast, or broke less violently but in ceaseless unrest on the chalk cliffs of England which glimmered white in the rays of the sun.

It is a splendid sight to watch this great spectacle from the high deck of a steamer as it ploughs its way through the foaming flood, or to be borne aloft on the top of the waves with a ship under full sail, but it is still more wonderful to behold Nature's great display from the half submerged conning-tower of a U-boat, and to dive through the mountainous breakers until they close gurgling over our heads and hide us from all curious glances. Our little nutshell, in perpetual motion, is drawn down into the deep valleys of the ocean waves, or tossed upwards on the comb of the following breaker. We are soaked to the skin, and the spray covers us like a silvery veil; our boat as well as ourselves is daubed with a salt crust, our eyes smart and our lips have a briny tang, but to us sailors it's a joy to be the sport of the wild waves, and even those few unfortunates who always suffer from sea-sickness never lose their love of the sea.

We were thus, in the midst of a strong southwesterly gale, lying in wait for our prey at the entrance of the English Channel, but no ship was to be seen; most of them took the northerly course beyond the war zone, around the Shetland Islands, and it was not until the next morning, north of the Scilly Isles, in the Bristol Channel, that we caught sight behind us of a big steamer, running before the wind, like ourselves. The wind had somewhat fallen and the March sun was shining bright and warm; the steamer was heading for Cardiff, and we judged by her course that she had sailed from some port in South America.

Turning about and breasting the waves we faced the oncoming steamer and signaled to her to stop; but hardly had she espied us than she also turned about in the hope to escape. She showed no flag to indicate her nationality, so surely we had sighted an English vessel. Even after we had fired a warning shot, she tried by rapid and tortuous curves to return to her former course, and endeavor thereby to reach her home port. Meantime she sent up rockets as signals of distress in quick succession, to draw the attention of British patrol ships that must be hovering in the neighborhood.

This obliged us to fire a decisive shot, and with a loud report our first shell struck the ship close to the captain's bridge. Instead of resigning himself to his fate, the Englishman sent up more signals and hoisted the British flag. This showed us he was game, and the fight began in dead earnest. All honor to the pluck of these English captains!--but how reckless to expose in this manner the lives of their passengers and crew, as we shall see in the present instance.

Circling around us he tried to ram us with his prow, and we naturally avoided him by also turning in the same direction. Every time he veered about he offered us his broadside for a shot; with well-directed aim we took advantage of this target, and our successful fire gave him full proof of the skill of our gunners. The latter had a hard time of it; the high seas poured over the low deck, and they continually stood up to their necks in the cold salt water. They were often dragged off the deck by the great receding waves, but as they were tied by strong ropes to the cannons we were able to pull them up again, and fortunately no lives were lost.

On seeing our gunners struggling in the seas, our foe hoped to make good his escape, but with each telling shot our own fighting blood was aroused and the wild chase continued. A well-aimed shell tore off the English flagstaff at the stern, but the Union Jack was quickly hoisted again on the foretop. This was also shot down, and a third time the flag flew from a line of the yard of the foretop, but the flag had been raised too hastily and it hung reversed, with the Union Jack upside down, and in this manner it continued to fly until it sank with the brave ship.

The fight had lasted four hours without our being able to deliver the death stroke. Several fires had started on the steamer, but the crew had been able to keep them under control; big holes gaped open in the ship's side, but there were none as yet below the water line, and the pumps still sufficed to expel the water. It often occurred that in the act of firing the waves choked our cannons, and the shot went hissing through tremendous sheets of water, while we were blinded by a deluge of foam. Of course we were all wet, through and through, but that was of no importance, for we had already been wet for days.

It was now essential for us to put an end to this deadly combat, for English torpedo-boat destroyers were hurrying on to the calls of distress of the steamer. Big clouds of smoke against the sky showed they were coming towards us under full steam. The ship was by this time listing so heavily that it was evident we need waste no more of our ammunition, and besides the appearance of another big steamer on the southern horizon was an enticing inducement to quit the battle scene and seek another victim. We cast a last look on our courageous adversary who was gradually sinking, and I must add it was the first and last prey whose end we did not have the satisfaction to witness. We had been truly impressed by the captain's brave endurance, notwithstanding his lack of wisdom, and we knew that the men-of-war were coming to his rescue. We read in the papers, on our return to a German port, that the "Vosges" had sunk soon after we had departed, and what remained of the passengers and crew were picked up by the English ships. The captain was rewarded for his temerity by being raised to the rank of Reserve officer, and the crew were given sums of money; but all the other officers had perished, as well as several sailors and a few passengers, who had been forced to help the stokers in order to increase the speed of the flying steamer.

We hurried away, therefore, in the direction of the other ship, and as we approached we soon recognized the Spanish colors flying from her flagstaff and painted on her sides. The captain willingly stopped at our bidding and dispatched an officer to us bearing the ship's papers. The stormy waves had somewhat subsided, and although the occupants of the boat got very wet, yet they were able, without danger, to come alongside our submarine. There was no contraband on board the Spanish steamer, and before dismissing the officer I admonished him always to stop at the first signal from a U-boat; he assured me that since the English were constantly hoisting the Spanish flag he had lost all desire to navigate again in the dangerous waters of the war zone. Much relieved at getting away so easily he went on board his own steamer, which resumed its voyage towards the lovely city of Santander on the Spanish coast.