The Dutch steamer Gamma was proceeding from New York to Amsterdam on the 1st February, 1917, with a cargo of oilcake for the Netherlands Government. At 2.30 p.m. a German submarine appeared on the port bow, steering towards the ship. Without making any signal, the submarine at once opened fire. She fired six shells, one of which struck the windlass. The ship was stopped, boats were lowered, and the master proceeded to the submarine, where he was questioned by the commander. A German officer and two men boarded the Gamma, placed bombs in her holds, and returned with a bag of flour, two hams, some butter, and a few engine-room tools. The master asked for a tow, but this was refused, and the submarine disappeared. Ten minutes later the bombs exploded and the Gamma went down. It was bitterly cold, but fortunately the boats were picked up by the Dutch liner Vondel at about 6 o’clock that night.
The Gamma was a neutral vessel laden with cargo for a neutral Government, but the fact was totally disregarded by the Germans. Fire was opened recklessly and without warning, and it was merely a matter of chance that no lives were lost. Having looted the vessel in true pirate style, the Germans refused the Dutchmen a tow. Once more it was only through good fortune that their boat happened to be picked up before any of the crew had died from exposure. The Germans showed themselves to be arbitrary, discourteous, and robbers.
At 12.15 p.m. on the 2nd February, 1917, a U-boat suddenly appeared alongside the Russian sailing vessel Garnet Hill and ordered the crew to abandon the ship at once. When this had been done, bombs were placed in the vessel, which sank in about five minutes after the explosion. The Germans took the master’s chronometer and a lot of clothes. They also took off one member of the crew who declared himself to be a German. The boats were picked up 28 hours later.
This is a case that gives one an insight into German methods, and suggests the possibilities of the seaman as spy. Obviously these possibilities are very great, although we cannot say for certain to what extent the services of the seaman-spy have been utilised by Germany in her submarine campaign. Many a ship may have been betrayed by Germans masquerading under some other nationality. The idea of the sea-spy is so essentially Teutonic that it must have been exploited by the Berlin Government. Thus, although the Garnet Hill provides an instance of the Pirate as Thief, it is perhaps more interesting as an instance of the Pirate as Spy.
The British trawler Romeo was sunk by a German submarine at 2 p.m. on the 3rd February, 1917. Before sinking her the Germans ransacked the vessel and took away her ensign, ship’s stores, clocks, weather-glasses, the clothes of the crew, and the skipper’s kit. The crew were picked up by a patrol-boat at 5 p.m. the same day.
On the 4th February, 1917, at 6 p.m. the British steamship Dauntless was struck on the funnel by a shot. The master at once gave the order “Hard a-starboard,” but before it could be executed a shell struck the bridge, damaging the steering-gear and wounding the master and the man at the wheel. Shells began to fly over the ship, the engines were stopped, and both life-boats were lowered. One fireman was killed on deck, but the rest of the crew reached the boats in safety, although firing was continued all this time. When the starboard life-boat had got a little way from the ship the submarine appeared alongside and ordered all hands on board. The lifeboat was then manned by Germans, who proceeded to the vessel, presently returning with various tinned provisions, some turpentine, and enamel, which were taken on board the submarine. They had also brought away the ship’s jolly-boat.
At about 8.10 p.m. the sound of a muffled explosion was heard, and the crew were then ordered into their boats, the submarine disappearing in the darkness. The master and six men entered the jolly-boat, the remaining nine men taking to the life-boat. Soon afterwards the two boats became separated in the darkness.
They rowed the jolly-boat all through the night, and at 6 a.m. next day the steward died from exposure. His body was thrown overboard at 6 o’clock that evening. Land was then visible, but a snow-storm came on, and land was lost. They rowed all through the night, but on Tuesday morning land was sighted again, and at 10 a.m. the boat touched the beach and was overturned by breakers. The remaining six men managed to get ashore, but soon after landing the second engineer and a fireman died on the beach. The four survivors were taken to hospital, and on 12th February the mate and chief and second engineers were discharged. The master was left behind, suffering from exposure and shell wounds.
At 12.50 p.m., in very thick weather, on the 9th February, the British trawler Benbow was fired upon by a German submarine. As the fog lifted two shots were fired, followed by four more while the boat was being got out. The crew were transferred to the submarine while a party of Germans visited the trawler. They returned with 5 stone of flour, 3 tins of treacle, 4 stone of sugar, half-a-dozen boxes of Quaker oats, 3 barrels of meat, 10 lbs. of sausages, several tins of milk, 2 clocks, and the kits of the skipper and chief engineer. When the submarine was last seen the clothes were being divided amongst the Germans. The trawler was sunk by a bomb; the submarine disappeared in the fog.
On the same day the British trawler Athenian was attacked by a U-boat, seven or eight shots being fired while her boat was being got out. Everything portable was taken from the trawler by the Germans. After she had been sunk, the German commander asked the skipper whether he would like to go to Germany or remain in his open boat. The skipper chose his boat. The men were picked up at 2 p.m. next day.