The men could hardly contain themselves for excitement. This was intensified when, about 11 o'clock, the Japanese cruiser appeared to steam away in the direction of the fight. But at twenty minutes past eleven the wireless announced. "Enemy beached herself to prevent sinking." Restraint was thrown aside. The men cheered again and again. Messages then chased one another in quick succession: "Emden beached and done for. Am chasing merchant collier." The cheering burst out afresh, for this was the first mention of the "Emden." How the New Zealanders envied the Australians this momentous achievement of their young navy.
About half an hour later came the story of the price paid for admiralty—two killed and thirteen wounded. The troops shouted themselves hoarse when they learned that the "Emden" was ashore on North Cocos Isle, and had surrendered with her foremast and three funnels down. The following message was sent from the "Maunganui": "Many congratulations from the N.Z.E.F. on result of first action of the Australian Navy." Back came a typical naval answer: "Reply to your signal of yesterday. Many thanks to New Zealand Squadron for their congratulations. It is very satisfactory that in its baptism of fire the superiority of town class cruiser over German town class light cruiser was so completely established."
Four days after this most memorable day a signal announced that H.M.S. "Hampshire" was steaming fifty miles ahead of us, and to facilitate coaling and watering at Colombo, the New Zealand squadron was ordered to steam ahead of the Australians, who were left in charge of the "Ibuki."
The line was crossed on the same day (November 13), and His Deep Sea Majesty King Neptune, attended by his consort and a numerous suite of barbers, bears, and orderlies, came aboard each of the transports. All deference and homage was paid, and the hoary old salt never had a busier day—eight thousand four hundred New Zealanders paying their tribute according to their respective popularity with His Majesty's attendants.
A Run Ashore at Colombo.
Two days steaming brought the "Hampshire" and her convoy within sight of Ceylon. This to most New Zealanders was the first far-off view of a tropical isle. As the ships steamed over an unruffled sea, the troops drank in the wonderful sight, so refreshing after the tiresome monotony of the voyage. The little brown fishing boats were thickly sprinkled over a fleckless seascape—ashore the beautiful buildings resplendent in a setting of graceful palms. Up the coast and round the breakwater the squadron picked its way through a flotilla of every conceivable variety of small craft.
Inside the crowded harbour lay our old friend the "Melbourne" and a quaint five-funnelled warship—the Russian cruiser "Askold," which we were later to know so well. The work of the "Emden" had been fairly thorough—during her career she had sunk sixteen merchant ships, the Russian cruiser "Jemtchug," and the French destroyer "Mousquet"—and here in Colombo Harbour were dozens of ships which had been held up, but were again free to sail the ocean highways.
About half an hour after our arrival, it was rumoured that the "Sydney" was coming, and sure enough, there were the familiar four funnels with their little white bands, and closely following her the big "Empress of Russia" with her cruiser stern. Slowly the gallant ship come round the breakwater to her moorings. As she passed the New Zealand transports it was evident that she was, as her captain described her, "nothing but an hospital of a most painful description." Wounded Germans were lying on stretchers all over the deck, and on that account the soldiers, though greatly thrilled and moved by the obvious marks of battle on the ship, stood respectfully silent at attention.
