PART THREE
BOUND FOR GERMANY—THE RESCUE
On November 7th, the transfer of cargo being complete, and everything movable or floatable on the Hitachi being secured so that it would not float off when she sunk and leave any trace to make a passing steamer suspicious, we steamed out well clear of the Chagos Islands and at 1:30 P.M. the Hitachi Maru was bombed. She sank in 29 minutes.
We on the Wolf were quite close to the Hitachi Maru and could see everything very clearly. First the "bombing squad" were very busy placing their bombs: two amidships and one each in No. 1 hatch forward and No. 2 hatch, aft. The fuses from these bombs were all led on to the deck and brought to one centre. After everything was in readiness and all of the men, excepting the Mine Lieutenant, were in the launch, the Lieutenant lighted the fuse and ran for the boat. Usually the fuses are set for 12 minutes, which gives the launch ample time to get away. We all stood there gazing intently at the steamer, expecting every minute to see the explosion. The twelve minutes' wait in a case of this kind seems nearer half an hour. Suddenly there was a dull boom sound, and the water was convulsed, and smoke from the burnt powder appeared. And that was all, as the explosions all take place below the water line. The vessel sinks very rapidly at first, and in the case of the Hitachi Maru, the vessel settled evenly; that is, she went by neither head nor stern. Soon the water was nearly even with the rail, and the Hitachi's bow sank a little faster by the head. Pretty soon the waves were breaking on deck, and every moment might be the last; but still she hung on as if fighting for her very life. Suddenly a shudder seemed to pass over her, caused by the bursting of a bulkhead; her head disappeared below the wave, she hung there an instant and then her stern rose high out of the water; she made her final dive ... and the Hitachi Maru, 1st class Japanese passenger steamer, ceased to be.
There were a great many satisfied Ah, Ahs from the German crew as she disappeared, and a general feeling of satisfaction among them. For myself, I am afraid there was a tear in my eye, and all that I can wish these destroyers of good honest ships is that may they sometime think of how they smiled as they sank these ships, when they are standing around with empty bellies waiting for a chance to earn a living as sailors. I can understand a landsman sinking a ship and thinking it a joke, but a sailor, to my mind, should feel sad at seeing the end of an honest vessel, may she belong to friend or enemy.
I know one German officer who told me that, when the Wolf returned to Germany, he would never go in a raider again; that he made his living going to sea and could not stand seeing ships sunk.
From the Chagos Islands we steamed toward the Cape of Good Hope, and on November 10th, at 6:30 A.M., Wolf captured the Spanish steamer Igotz Mendi with a cargo of coal from Delagoa Bay to Colombo for the British Government. This was a very tame capture, the captain stopping as soon as he was signalled, thinking possibly that he was immune because he was neutral. No such luck. Lieutenant Rose and his prize crew went on board and took command, all the Spaniards staying on board. The first official act of Rose was to order Captain Uralda to vacate his room so that he, Rose, could use it. Captain Uralda answered temperamentally by throwing an inkstand at Rose. Unfortunately Capt. Uralda is no Christie Mathewson and the first one was a ball. However, the Spanish Captain gave up his room. Both vessels now returned to the Chagos group and tied up together.
There was weeping and wailing on the Wolf that they did not hang on to the Hitachi Maru for a few more days. If they had, and the Wolf had captured Igotz Mendi, all three of us would have gone to Germany and the Imperial Government would very probably have been richer by many thousands of marks worth of valuable cargo that was sunk with the Hitachi.
The Germans transferred some two thousand tons of coal from the Igotz Mendi to the Wolf at this time. On November 12th, the two Australian medical officers and the major's wife, a British Professor from Siam and his wife, "Father" Cross—an eminent British barrister from Singapore—and his wife, the technical mining man and his wife, one Chinese woman and husband, one Mauritian woman and a little black girl, and two male invalids were suddenly ordered on board the Igotz just as they stood. There was lots of excitement, as the Wolf had picked up a wireless message from a cruiser which was within 30 miles of us, but which unfortunately kept right on going. A couple of German sailors dumped everything in our room on the Wolf into a couple of bed sheets and dumped them down on the deck of the Igotz Mendi for us.
Our quarters here on the Igotz Mendi were fairly good, especially in warm weather, but later on in the cold regions they were far from livable. "Father" Cross, the Colonel and the two sick men were quartered aft under the poop in a room that had formerly been a boatswain locker; the rest of us were housed amidships in what was before the Spanish officers' quarters. The Spanish deck officers doubled up with the Engine room squad, thereby leaving their rooms vacant for us to occupy.
I wish to add here that at the time of the transfer of the prisoners from the S.S. Metunga to the Wolf, Mrs. X, steward of the Metunga, was quartered on the top deck with the rest of the womenfolks. Mrs. X was an Australian woman of middle age and the widow of a Chief Engineer in the same company that owned the Metunga. After her transfer to the Wolf, she was ordered by the German officers to take care of the ladies' quarters. On account of the overbearing and insolent manners of some of her fellow shipmates, she refused duty, stating that she was a British subject and a prisoner of war and entitled to the same treatment as the rest of the women prisoners. In this she was perfectly justified and I am certain it was through Lieut. Rose's influence that this demand of her services was made, as Rose was very partial to one of these ex-passengers. Later on when transferred to the Hitachi Maru Mrs. X was quartered aft in the second class, she being the only white woman there; and things were made generally disagreeable for her. This no doubt was because she was brave enough to show her independence and stand up for her right.
When we were transferred from the Wolf to the Igotz Mendi she asked to be kept on the Wolf, rather than go on the Igotz Mendi under the charge of Rose, stating that she would rather take the chances with the rest of them on the Wolf than be treated as she felt she would be on the Igotz Mendi.
This permission was granted her; but, a few days later on, she was transferred to the Igotz Mendi against her will, and quartered in the same room as the coloured people, among whom was one male.
Many of us were highly incensed because of this treatment of a white woman, but were powerless to do anything with Rose in the matter although we tried to make her lot as bearable as possible. Later on this woman took sick owing to the dampness of her quarters and my wife nursed her for three weeks until she finally recovered.
The Igotz Mendi was a product of war-times, being built in 1916, and built in the cheapest possible manner, both in hull, equipment and accommodations. In her saloon, ten of us could sit down fairly comfortably in good weather, but when the vessel was rolling as nearly always was the case, only eight could sit down at the table, as the chairs at the ends were not stationary. We were waited upon by a steward named "Manuel." Manuel was quite a character and had his own ideas about how much a man should have a day for two pesetas. One day we were talking together, and he said that he shipped to take care of three men only and now he had twenty-two, among whom were four women, any one of whom (the women) were more trouble than the original three men he had shipped to serve. I think Manuel had the largest thumb I have ever seen. When he brought in my plate of alleged soup the plate would be brimming full; on setting it down and withdrawing his thumb the plate would be only half full. This thumb would have been a valuable asset to some Yankee boarding house mistress in the States. Later on Manuel took a violent dislike to some of our party and used to spill the "coffee" or soup on them. This he did with malice aforethought and I don't know that I blamed him much, as some of our party imagined they were first class passengers on a modern liner with servants to supply their every whim.
On November 15th both steamers left the Chagos Islands, the Igotz Mendi going at slow speed to a point 300 miles south of the Cape of Good Hope, and the Wolf followed the regular sailing vessel route, where on November 18th she captured and sank the American bark William Kirby of New York, Captain Blum commanding. The Kirby was en route from New York to Port Elizabeth with a general cargo, the major part of which was automobiles destined for the African Christmas market. After transferring the crew, provisions, and what food stuffs were handily got at, the bomb gang got in their work and at 5:30 P.M. on November 18th the Kirby made her final bow.
LAST OF THE AMERICAN BARK "WILLIAM KIRBY." 1200 GROSS TONS. CAPTAIN BLUM. CAPTURED NOVEMBER 15TH, THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY MILES S.E. OF PORT ELIZABETH.
On December 6th we met the Wolf again for a short time, exchanged signals, and received a further supply of canned crab, the Wolf having an inexhaustible supply which she had got from the Hitachi. We had so much crab that the very sight of a can of it was nauseating. I feel sure that should a waiter in a restaurant ever suggest crab to any of the ex-prisoners on the Wolf, he would have a very unpleasant time of it. During the night of the 6th, the Wolf left us, taking a more northerly route than we. At this time, Lieutenant Rose had told the Spanish ex-Captain that we were en route to Trinidad Island, Brazil, where Wolf would get what additional coal she required, and then we, the Igotz Mendi, should, after waiting 10 days at the island, proceed to Spain. This, of course, made us feel very happy and I know that the Cameron family were overjoyed with the prospects of getting safely landed after such a long time. Many of us took up the study of the Spanish language, and some very queer conversations were carried on. When I tried to talk Spanish, I would usually get stuck for a Spanish word and put in a German one; then if I couldn't think of the German word, would use English, the result was that neither a Spaniard nor a German could understand me. Sometimes I couldn't figure it out myself.
We enjoyed fine weather and managed to keep alive on the food, which was some task. When we got up from the table hungry, we would think of Spain and freedom in a few short weeks, and forget all about how empty we were. On December 18th the Wolf again picked us up; it seemed that she could appear at will like some gigantic evil spirit. The Wolf wig-wagged the information that on December 14th she met and sank the French bark Marechal Davoust, bound from Australia to France with a cargo of grain. This bark was equipped with wireless and had two guns mounted on her, but offered no resistance to the Wolf. Wolf took the crew, provisions, ships stores, the wireless, and also his two cannon, off the Frenchman, later in the day sinking her by bombs.
Both the Wolf and Igotz Mendi now proceeded together toward the Island of Trinidad and expected to get there early on the morning of December 20th. I had made arrangements with Lieutenant Rose so that I could have a jolly boat in the morning and the wife and I go fishing off the rocks on the lee side of the island, as this island is celebrated for its good sea bass fishing. At 9:30 P.M. on the 19th, while pacing the deck with the wife before retiring, I noticed that the Wolf suddenly changed her course to the Northward and signalled us with her flash light. We immediately changed also, and put on all available speed to the northward after the Wolf. Soon the explanation came: there were two cruisers of the Brazilian Navy anchored at Trinidad and the Wolf had picked up a wireless message from one of them to the Brazilian authorities. Needless to say, it didn't take Commander Nerger long to decide that he had business elsewhere. If these confounded gossipy cruisers had not used their wireless, in another few hours we should have run right into their arms. On the other hand, if they had been lying in the harbour of some big sea port as seems to be the custom with battle ships, and not off Trinidad Island, we should probably have carried out the regular schedule of freedom via Spain. Of the two, I should much have preferred the Brazilian navy to rescue us, as then I should have been sure of freedom, while on the other hand, I had only Rose's word that we would proceed to Spain. There was a bitter gloom on our ship for a good while after this; in fact the spirits of the prisoners never regained their previous buoyancy. The great question now was "What next?" We could see only Germany ahead of us, and that was not very encouraging. For myself, I felt quite confident that we should never get through the blockade and the mine fields. Captain Rose had often told us that in the event of our meeting a cruiser, we would go into the boats and the ship would be bombed and sunk. This was a very alluring proposition for a family man to look forward to but was better than the conditions on the Wolf, as there now were nearly 800 crew and prisoners on the Wolf, while its life-boats and rafts under the most favourable conditions could hold only 400, so it can easily be figured out just how much chance our poor chaps had of getting into the boats, in the event of the Wolf's meeting a superior enemy. Probably they would be battened down below in the hold, and would be sent down to "Davey Jones' Locker" with the Wolf. In our case on the Igotz Mendi we were about thirty souls to a boat, and if the weather conditions were favourable and we had a little luck, we should have been all right. The women naturally lived in a continual dread of having to go into the boats.
We had all been looking forward to eating our Christmas dinner at the island of Trinidad and were going to have a royal feed, as our German "hosts" were going to kill a pig and a cow that were on board the Igotz Mendi when captured. However, the Brazilian navy changed our plans as to where our dinner was to be eaten; though we had "Sir Pig" just the same. Owing to the sudden change of our plans (gaining freedom via Spain) we all felt very blue on Christmas day, which was not the enjoyable affair it would have been if everything had worked out as expected. I know I had the blues all Christmas as I got thinking about other Christmases spent under more enjoyable circumstances, which thoughts naturally didn't make me feel any more cheerful. Lieutenant Rose was around bright and early, wishing us all a merry Christmas and "many happy returns" of the day. I intend next Christmas, if Rose is still interned in Denmark, to write him a letter returning the compliment, and then he can possibly appreciate the subtleties of a joke of this nature. My wife wanted to stick a hat pin into him when he came around with his "many happy returns of the day." The German crew, too, appeared to be blue on Christmas.
New Year's eve we all sat up to see the New Year in, and one or two of us worked up enthusiasm enough to make a little noise, but the situation was so depressing that we soon subsided. Not so our German crew, however. They held high festival in the Engineer's mess, having a bowl full of punch, whose chief recommendation was that its foundation was "Aguadenti" and it had an awful kick. The Spanish Engineer, who had a splendid voice, sang several songs, and the German sailors sang patriotic songs. At about two o'clock on New Year's morning, some one woke me up by shoving a bottle of wine through the port-hole for me, and later on around three A.M. another bottle made its appearance. Some of the German sailor boys had imagined we were not happy because we had no wine. The gifts were received in the spirit in which they were sent. This was by no means the only act of kindness shown my family and myself by the members of the crew. In fact, throughout the trip, officers and crew, with the single exception of Lieutenant Rose, were very friendly toward us. The American contingent was decidedly popular, though they had no use for the rest. As an illustration, on my birthday on January 25th several members of the crew came and presented me with presents in the form of bottles of wine, and even Rose came across with a box of cigars. Several of the German crew had lived in America for many years; two had even taken out their first papers. And all of these talked enthusiastically of going back to America as soon as the war was over.
I was very much interested in trying to find out just what the German opinion was of America coming into the war. Lieut. Rose used to stick his chest up in the air and say that the United States' coming in wouldn't make any difference in the ultimate outcome of the war, and that the only difference it would make was that the States would lose a lot of men and money. Just the same, I am of the opinion that Rose knew that America's coming in spelled the finish of Germania, though of course he wouldn't admit it. One day at the table he said that the "Star Spangled Banana," as he loved to call our flag, was only a joke and that it looked like a gridiron to him. I made the remark that possibly the stars and stripes would not prove the joke he imagined. My retorts to sallies of this kind were very moderate, as I considered I was in no position to argue the point with him, and didn't want to lose any of my liberties. I was always afraid to start an argument with him, as I am very hot-headed and knew that in the event of a row I was sure to get the worst of it eventually. Rose used to laugh at the American soldier, saying we were crazy to imagine that we could take a man and make a soldier out of him in a year, that at best these men would only be cannon fodder, that Germany had proved it takes three years to make a soldier, also that our submarines were mere toys, and that as for submarine defense, just as soon as we figured out some Yankee patent to protect our ships, they (Germany) would invent some other way to destroy them. Rose believed that the submarine would eventually decide the war. It was pretty hard to sit at the same table and hear an enemy slam the American government and not to be able to "hit back" or even "argue" the point.
On January 20th, in latitude 33 degrees north and longitude 40 degrees west, we again met the Wolf, and, the weather being exceptionally fine and the sea very smooth, the Wolf came alongside and we transferred some 800 tons of coal to her. Each vessel's side was well supplied with large fenders or bumpers made of large coils of rope, so that when the vessels would bump together they would do as little damage as possible. Even under these favourable circumstances, however, the vessels rolled and tossed around a great deal, and occasionally some very severe crashes were experienced; but Commander Nerger, realizing how great was his need for coal, and knowing it might be months before he would get as smooth sea again, held on and worked every man available despite the heavy bumping that was damaging both vessels. The gang of men on the Wolf trimming the coal in the bunkers could not handle the coal as fast as the other gang brought it to them, so, rather than delay the coaling, to save every minute, they dumped the coal on deck; and when the vessels were forced to part owing to the increasing swells, both guns and both torpedo tubes on the after deck were covered with coal. If a cruiser had happened along at that particular moment, the Wolf's after battery would have been out of commission. However, these conditions did not continue long, as all hands worked feverishly at the job until all the coal was under decks. After the two vessels had parted, we took stock of damages and found that several frames or ribs in the side of Igotz Mendi were broken, that some plates on her side were badly stove in. These flattened or stove-in places varied in size from six feet to forty feet in length. Luckily all our damage was above water line, and the vessel leaked only when rolling heavily, or when a big sea was running. The Wolf was also damaged, having several frames broken and four plates cracked. She was leaking eleven tons of water per hour, while we averaged about one and one-half tons per hour.
From this point the two vessels separated after arranging another and final rendezvous at latitude 61 degrees north and longitude 33 degrees west, a point some little distance southwest of Iceland. The weather from now commenced to get colder and we with our impoverished blood and scanty clothing commenced to feel the cold keenly.
Then came another heartbreaking disappointment. Be it remembered that our daily prayer and hope was that we would meet a cruiser before we got into the extremely cold weather, where the suffering in the life-boats would be intense.
On January 24th the weather was very overcast, and drizzly, and inclined to be squally—regular Channel weather. I was lying in my bunk reading a four months' old newspaper printed in Africa, when at about five bells (2.30 P.M.) my wife came to my door and said: "Stan, there is a cruiser with four funnels just ahead of us." I thought she was kidding, and said: "All right, Mamie, tell them to reserve an outside room for me." I then looked at her and saw she was white as a sheet. I jumped up, knowing immediately there was "something doing." Just as I hit the floor, the Professor stuck his head in at the door and said: "My God, Captain, a cruiser at last." I ran out on deck and there just on the edge of a rain squall was what appeared to be a four-funnelled cruiser. Just about this time the Spanish second mate, who was on the bridge, discovered her, and a sailor ran into Lieutenant Rose's room calling him to come to the deck. As soon as I looked at the cruiser through my glasses, I saw that instead of being one four-funnelled cruiser, it was two American army transports, both of them heavily armed with what appeared to be big guns. There was great confusion amongst the Germans, and in a few seconds two of them (armed) chased us into our cabins in no uncertain manner. We altered our course in such a manner as to pass under the stern of the two transports, and they were less than a mile from us when they crossed our bow. They paid absolutely no attention to us, and in a few minutes were swallowed up in the fog and lost to sight. My God, you can't imagine how I felt after hoping and praying and building on running across a cruiser, not for days but for months, and when we at last did meet two of them, they passed calmly on, not even signalling, nor asking who we were. It was certainly disappointing. And then to have to sit at the same table and see Rose sitting with that "Chessy" cat smile of smug complacency on his ugly Prussian mug. Previous to this episode, he frequently made remarks about the Stars and Stripes, and after this incident, he never lost an opportunity to refer to it. Just the same the Germans were a badly frightened bunch. The first thing they did on seeing the supposed cruisers was to run to their quarters and put on their good clothes, fully expecting to be the guests of the American government. The next thing they thought of was their bombs, and the bomb man going to get them, found that they were gone. Somebody had stolen them. Holy Poker, wasn't there hell to pay! If words, looks or wishes could have killed we would all have been crucified where we stood.
This bomb episode, at this time, was as much a mystery to us prisoners as it was to Lieutenant Rose. For some reason or other my fellow prisoners must have thought that I was the guilty party, because every time I would meet one of them on deck and start talking, he would excuse himself, having pressing business elsewhere. They seemed to be afraid that if they were seen talking to me that they would be "accessories after the act" and liable to punishment. I was greatly flattered to think that these people thought I was "hero" enough for a job of this description, but nevertheless I could not help thinking of how much assistance or co-operation I could have got from this crowd in case I had undertaken something along these lines.
The following day Lieutenant Rose held an investigation to find out "who stole the bombs." We were all chased out of the dining room on to the cold iron deck in a drizzling rain while this investigation was being held behind closed doors. However, I had not been on board the Igotz Mendi for this length of time without knowing my way about and managed to get an "ear full." When the Spanish Chief Officer was called, Rose asked him if he knew anything about the bombs. He answered: "Yes, I threw them overboard. I'll tell why. It was not for me, Captain Rose, but for the women and little children. I am not afraid of you. You can shoot me if you want to, but you can't drown the little children." Rose confined him to his room and the next time we met the Wolf Commander Nerger sentenced him to three years' imprisonment in a German military prison. I consider this a very brave act of the Spaniard's and wish that I were in a position to show some substantial appreciation of his humane heroism. After this incident our guards were doubled and we were chased off the deck if anything appeared on the horizon.
One day the Spanish Chief Officer, Mr. ——, told me the details of this episode. At the time of the cruiser alarm he was asleep in his bunk and was wakened by the unusual amount of noise. As soon as he saw the supposed cruisers he ran to the wireless room, under the bridge, where the bombs were kept. This room had two doors, one on each side. Luckily the side he entered on was the side towards which the wireless operator, who was intently "listening in" for signals from the other vessels, had his back turned to. —— reached under the table, secured the bombs and went outside again, where he threw them into the sea. The wireless operator never turned around, thinking that it was the "bomb man" who had come after his bombs. —— reached the deck and back to his room without being observed by any of the Germans. He said he owned up to the stealing of the bombs so that nobody else would get into trouble.
A peculiarity of this case was that some time previous to this, shortly after the Igotz Mendi was taken charge of by the Germans, I had approached —— on the subject of trying, should a favourable opportunity occur, to take charge of the vessel. I did not receive any encouragement along these lines and was afraid to go into the matter any further with him. I put it down as a case of cold feet.
Mr. ——, an ex-second officer of a captured British steamer, who was an invalid who had just come through three months' siege in the hospital on the Wolf, and I, had gone into the details of an enterprise of this kind, but unfortunately while this Britisher had the heart of a lion, he was physically unfit for anything as strenuous as this undertaking, and the matter was dropped, against his will, although he would admit that he might keel over any time. If the British army has many chaps like this in it, Kaiser Bill is surely going to catch hell. It is my belief that at this particular time, owing to certain conditions that existed, four good two handed men could have taken charge of the Igotz Mendi and probably would not have met with much resistance, except possibly from Lieutenant Rose, and I am sure it would have been a pleasure to tap him on the head.
The co-operation of the Spanish crew could not be depended on at this time, as they believed that in a couple of weeks they were to be free again, after coaling the Wolf at Trinidad Island.
AMERICAN SCHOONER "WINSLOW" BEING TAKEN INTO SUNDAY ISLAND AFTER CAPTURE BY THE SEAPLANE ON JUNE 7TH. IN THE BACKGROUND IS THE NEW ZEALAND STEAMER "WIARUMA" GOING OUT TO SEA TO BE SUNK BY THE "WOLF".
THE BLOWING UP OF THE AMERICAN SCHOONER "WINSLOW." 566 GROSS TONS. CAPT. TRUDGETT. SUNK JUNE 21ST OFF SUNDAY ISLAND BY FOUR BOMBS AND THIRTY-NINE SHELLS.
After the Trinidad Island disappointment, conditions were such that the taking of the ship by any of us, even with the unreliable co-operation of the Spanish crew, was not feasible.
The weather now was intensely cold and we all suffered intensely, as there was no heat of any kind in the cabins. Our bedding was continually wet and garments taken off on going to bed would be sopping wet in the morning from the "sweat" that gathered on the walls and ceilings. Personally I beat this part of the game by taking my clothes to bed with me. The food question, too, was getting serious, as owing to the cold weather we required more food to keep our bodies warm. The statement has been repeatedly made in the papers in Europe that on the Igotz Mendi the prisoners had the same food as the German Commander and crew. Let me show you how it was in reality. Eleven of us sat down at the first table with Rose at the head. The one platter started with him. He helped the party (a friend of his) on his right first, himself next, and passed the plate to the party on his left. This man was a glutton, and was without shame. These three people got very nearly and sometimes fully half of the contents of the platter; what was left was divided amongst the remaining eight, including five males, two women, and a little six year old child. If we asked for more, we were reminded that we were short of provisions and had to make them last. If the platter of food had been equally divided, and we had all shared alike, it would not have been so bad, but under this heads-I-win-tails-you-lose division I have got up from the table actually hungry. It is an awful sensation suddenly to realise that you actually covet the food another person is eating.
We continued in a northerly direction until February 5th, when we again met the Wolf, and owing to the bomb incident, sixteen additional Germans were sent on board with their side arms and clothing—but no additional food was sent with them. We now had eighty-two souls on board the Igotz Mendi all told. Lieutenant Wolf, division lieutenant of the Wolf, was also sent on board to assist Rose. Lieutenant Wolf took over the control of the food and the cook's department, and made an honest effort to better things, which did improve somewhat, at least to the extent that on bean meals we frequently got all we wanted; but he was also the inventor of a weird concoction known as "Billposter's paste" and for this last crime I will never forgive him. Otherwise he was a decent and fair-minded officer. After his arrival, favouritism was abolished and we all got a square deal.
On February 6th the Wolf left us and was never seen again by any of us. We then started to go around the northern end of Iceland, but met ice and were forced back. We ran south for a couple of days and waited around to see if the Wolf made it or not, and as she did not return, we concluded she had either got through or passed to the southward of Iceland, chancing the blockade. The cold here was very intense and caused a lot of suffering amongst us. Helped by some of the German sailors, I fixed a place in an empty bunker, where my wife, Nita and myself practically lived, only going in the cabin for meals and to sleep. Lieutenant Rose had canvas put up here for us and lights put in so that I could lie there and read, and the wife could sit and sew. Nita of course enjoyed the comparative warmth. The only drawback was that the air was full of fine coal dust and gas from the fire room, and we used to get frightfully dirty.
On February 12th we again tried to get to the northward of Iceland, but again met ice and had to return. Rose was forced to go to the southward of Iceland, as he could not waste any more time, since the supply of drinking water was getting very low.
Now that we were about to actually enter the blockade zone, our hopes commenced to rise. I heard nothing from my fellow prisoners for the past six months but: "Just wait until they try to run the British blockade." I heard this so often that I got to believe it and used to figure the only chance the Germans had to get through was if it was foggy weather, and then if he was lucky he might slip through.
We ran the blockade between the Faroes and Iceland in fine clear weather, and did not even see any smoke. So I commenced to think that it was quite possible, it being winter, that the British weren't paying much attention to this particular spot and were keeping cases on the Norwegian Coast, especially in that district around the Naze at the southern extremity of Norway. On the night of February 18th we received a wireless from Berlin that the Wolf had arrived safely and on February 19th we picked up the Norwegian Coast, some sixty miles north of Bergen. From here we proceeded down the coast, bucking a heavy head wind and sea, at about five knots per hour, passing inside the light on the island outside Stavanger, and thence down the coast and around the Naze. During this time it was fine and clear weather, and a cruiser could have seen us at twenty miles distance easily; but the only vessels we saw were a Stavanger pilot boat and a Danish passenger vessel bound northward. We were a disgusted bunch and no mistake. For myself, I was sore; I was afraid to speak to anybody. Here I had been kidding myself and letting others kid me that when I got this far, somebody would surely pick me up. And then to come down this coast in beautiful clear weather and not even see anything resembling a patrol boat was very disappointing to say the least.
From here on all I could see ahead of me was the Gates of Germany and the certainty of spending from one to five years a hungry prisoner in a Teuton detention camp. I would have sold out cheap at this time, believe me. By this time I had given up all hopes of getting free and had reconciled myself to going to Germany.... If it had not been for the family I would have jumped overboard and had a swim for neutral land at some place when we passed fairly close.
The following day while crossing from Norway to the northern end of Denmark, Jutland, it set in foggy and Lieutenant Rose was strutting around with a smile on his mug, saying: "Just the weather I want; made to order; I am all right now." I didn't argue the point with him, as I thought he was right. About 3.30 in the afternoon we picked up a fog whistle ahead, of the character we call a "blatter" on the Pacific Coast. I was standing on deck just under the bridge, talking to Rose. I nodded my head toward the signal and asked him what it was, and he said: "Oh, that is the lightship." I thought at the time it was a peculiar character for a lightship, but dismissed the thought, thinking, "different ships, different fashions."
Rose had told the British Colonel that this signal was a German torpedo boat with which he had arranged a meeting, and that the Colonel had gone inside to tell the rest of the prisoner passengers, which would give them all a scare. He also suggested that I should go inside and tell them it was a U-boat, and that I recognised the sound of her signal. I laughed, and told him I had made so many remarks regarding the blockade that I was afraid to speak to them. Shortly after this I went into my cabin and was standing looking out of the port-hole and talking to my wife, when I noticed that we had altered our course, by the bearing of the fog signal, and knew that Rose wanted to pass the lightship close aboard. Suddenly I felt the vessel smell the bottom. I looked at the wife and said: "Holy Poker! I thought I felt her smell the bottom." No sooner had I said this than the Igotz Mendi ran slap bang on the beach, about 350 yards off shore and less than half mile away from the lighthouse.
Rose's mistaking the lighthouse signal for the lightship's signal was a lucky piece of business for us because I knew for an absolute certainty when I felt the Igotz Mendi had taken the beach that it would require the assistance of a powerful tug to get her off again. I guess we all realised just how much this stranding meant to us, and the very nearness of freedom kept everybody quiet and busy with his own thoughts and plans. I know that for one I had decided to get over the side and swim for it, provided the vessel should give any indications of getting off the beach.
Right after the stranding, the weather being foggy, we were allowed on deck. One of the neutral sailors, a Dane named Jensen, identified the spot where we were ashore and gave me the good news that the little town of Skagen was only about two miles distant, and that one of the best life-saving crews in Europe was stationed there. Sure enough, in about an hour a life-boat drew up alongside. We were all chased inside again. Rose invited the Captain of the life-boat on board, and took him into the chart room just above the saloon for a drink and talk. Our lady prisoners immediately commenced playing a game of "button, button, who's got the button?" laughing and talking at the top of their voices, so that this man on top of the saloon would know that there were women on board. Also little Nita did a crying act that could be heard, I am sure. Shortly Rose came down with a blank scowl on his face and said: "You people can cut out the noise now, as the stranger has gone ashore."
Somebody asked Rose why he didn't introduce us to his friend, and Rose answered: "What do you think I am—a fool?" Nobody went on record with an opinion, so the matter was dropped. In the meantime, Lieutenant Wolf had gone ashore and had 'phoned from the lighthouse at Scow Point, where we were ashore, to a salvage company in Skagen, saying that we were a German merchant ship bound from Bergen, Norway, to Kiel, and that we had run ashore in the fog; and that if a tug was sent immediately we could be pulled off easily, but if we were allowed to lie any length of time, the ship would bed herself in the sand and it would mean a long delay in getting off. I understand he offered 25,000 kroner for the job; at any rate, the manager of the salvage company ordered his largest tug, the Viking, around, but instructed his captain not to put a line on board until the manager had gone down overland and investigated a little. Lieutenant Wolf in the meantime returned on board and reported to Rose, who was immensely tickled and told us that about midnight a tug would arrive from "a nearby town" and pull us into deep water, and that by four o'clock in the morning at the latest we would be on our way to Germany once more.
This news led to great consternation among us, and some great arguments regarding neutrality laws were carried on. On all the trip the Colonel had been quoting the Geneva convention, until we had all concluded that this particular convention was held for the express benefit of the medical officers of the army. I asked the Colonel if he remembered anything in the Geneva convention regarding the grounding of a belligerent's prize on neutral ground. He answered by saying that clause so and so, paragraph so and so, expressly stated that all medical officers should be exempt from ... at this point I butted in and told him to "go to hell"; that there were women and children and other prisoners on board as well as medical officers. All throughout the trip this man had behaved like a dog in a manger, being the quintessence of egotistical selfishness, and despised by us, one and all. The conclusion of all our argument was that might was right in this war, and that the Germans would do just what they liked, provided they could hoodwink the Danish officials.
The manager of the Danish salvaging company, on arriving at the lighthouse and talking with the various people there, concluded that perhaps things were not just right with the Igotz Mendi and that he had better get in touch with the Danish naval authorities before doing anything. He called up the Commander of the Danish cruiser Diana and stated the case, saying that things didn't appear to be just right. The Commander, a Lieutenant Lagoni, getting in touch with the authorities, 'phoned the manager of the salvage company that he would come right down to investigate. At about midnight the Diana arrived and Lieutenant Lagoni, being a gentleman and also a shrewd, wide-awake officer, took his chief officer on board the Igotz Mendi, telling him that he, the commander, would keep the captain of the Igotz Mendi busy answering questions in the saloon while the chief officer should have a good look around and gather what information he could. As soon as the Danish commander arrived on board we were all pushed and shoved into our rooms and the doors closed. When Rose started to take Lieutenant Lagoni into the chart room above the Lieutenant said: "Oh, no, Captain, let's go into the saloon; it is not customary to entertain the commander of a cruiser in the chart room." So they came into the saloon. Just as he came through the door he saw some of us being hustled out of sight—but said nothing. Shortly one of the ladies would shout down the alleyway: "Oh, Mrs. So and So, won't you come to my room for a minute? Don't be frightened." All this for the benefit of the Danish officer in the saloon. In the meantime the Danish chief officer was wandering around the Igotz Mendi, taking notice of all he saw. While strolling through the bunkers, where our "temporary" warm place was, he noticed Nita's "kewpie" doll lying where she had dropped it. There were men standing around all through these quarters. Suddenly the officer turned on a man standing there and said: "You're not a German." The man answered saying: "No, sir; I am a Dane." "Well, what are you doing here?" was the next question. The Dane, Jensen, told him he was from the Wolf and was working here on the Igotz Mendi, and that there were American and British prisoners on board, including some women and children. After completing his rounds, the Danish officer went on deck and told Lieutenant Lagoni that he was ready, and calling him aside, told him what he had found out. Lieutenant Lagoni then gave orders to disable the wireless plant and told Rose that the tug could not assist him off the beach, and that at the end of twenty-four hours the vessel would be interned providing she was still under German flag, and advised him to land any prisoners he had.
"IGOTZ MENDI" ASHORE ON THE DANISH COAST. TAKEN THE MORNING WE LANDED, FEBRUARY 26TH, 1918.
LIFE BOAT LEAVING THE BEACH FOR THE STRANDED "IGOTZ MENDI".
Of course during all this talk we prisoners knew nothing at all of what was going on, and when we saw the Danish officers leaving we came to the conclusion that our case was lost, and as there was an armed sentry pacing back and forth in front of the two doors leading from the cabin to the deck, it looked black indeed, and I for one felt very, very disappointed. The strain was beginning to tell on my wife again; so we both lay down on the bunk with our clothes on and listened to Rose on the bridge, ringing the telegraph and working his engines in a vain attempt to get his vessel off the beach. As I lay there thinking, I could not but pity Rose, realising how he must have felt.
Just imagine what his feelings must have been on realising that after spending fifteen months on a raiding and mine laying cruise, and always evading his enemies, he had run his vessel aground almost at the gates of Germany, and in place of receiving the Iron Cross first class, there was the possibility of his facing court martial on his arrival home, provided of course he was lucky enough to escape internment. Thinking this I fell asleep and at 6:30 A.M. of February 25th (shall I ever forget the date?) I was awakened by one of the German seamen named "Hans" knocking at my door and saying: "Kapitaine, Kapitaine, wake up and get ready to go ashore in the boats." I'll bet we broke all speed records getting on deck. Rose asked me to get into the life-saving boat first, as the Danish crew could not speak English, and then I could help the balance as they came down the ladder. I got Juanita firmly on my back and climbed down into the boat. There was a large sea running and as the Igotz Mendi was stationary on the bottom and the life-boat was riding on the seas, one moment it would be even with my feet and in another would be fifteen feet below. The idea was to jump at that instant the boat was even with me. This was easy enough with myself and wife, who understood such things and had had previous experience, but to the balance of the passengers it was hard to make them let go at the right time; they all having a tendency to hang on until the boat had started to go down again. Then, if they should let go, the drop was so great that the men in the life-boat could not hold them when they tried to catch them.
In some cases it was necessary absolutely to tear the passengers off the ladder by main force. However, we finally got all the women, children and men into the boat and we started for the beach. When we got into the breakers and the seas washed clean over us, many thought it would be a case of swim or drown, not reckoning on the kind of life-boat we were in or on the class of men that manned it.
I have seen various life-crews at drill and I spent a season on the beach at Cape Nome, where everything is surf work, but these old Danes, averaging fifty years of age and the living caricatures of that great soap advertisement, "Life Buoy Soap," familiar to all the reading public, were in a class by themselves. On entering the breakers, they dropped a kedge anchor with a long line on it, and literally slacked the boat through. A gigantic comber, one of those curling ones, just commencing to break, would rush upon us; up would go the stern of the boat and just at the instant that I would expect her to go end for end, the old "Sinbad" tending the anchor line would check her and in another instant we would rush for the beach, just as the Kanakas ride the surf on a board at Honolulu. When we finally grounded the men from the beach ran out and seized the women, the balance then ran the boat higher up the beach. The natives must have thought that we were a bunch of raving maniacs, the way we carried on, getting our feet on good "terra firma" again. We danced, we shouted, and cheered, and made damn fools of ourselves generally; but to my mind the situation warranted it. What a fitting climax to an adventure of this kind ... eight months a prisoner on a Teuton raider, and set free at the very gates of Germany, at the eleventh hour and fifty-ninth minute. It is hard to realise just what this meant to us all—possibly the very lives of my wife and kiddie, as I feel sure that they could not have stood much more, and at the best, there was from one to a possible five years' being buried alive in a German internment camp, and living under the conditions that I know to exist in that country.
We were taken to the nearby lighthouse, where the keepers and their families did everything possible for us, drying our clothes and giving us hot coffee to warm ourselves. About midday we went into Skagen, two miles distant, and separated, going to various hotels. My family and I put up at the Sailors' Home and were excellently taken care of by our host, Mr. Borg Hansen. I wish to go on record here as saying that at no place that I have ever been in have I met a more whole-souled, more hospitable or more likable class of people in my life than these Danish people of the little town of Skagen. I met people there who were the quintessence of courtesy and hospitality; in fact, they were "regular Danish ladies and gentlemen." Here at Skagen our various Consuls took us in charge and sent us to Copenhagen, where we separated, going our several ways.