This wire is sufficient praise for Commander, officers and crew.
A few weeks later, without premonition, I met the S.90 at Nanking—but that is another story.
CHAPTER VII
THE LAST DAY
THE siege progressed according to plan. The Japanese dug themselves in ever closer; they brought up more and more heavy guns, and on several occasions large bodies of Japanese infantry made night attacks on our infantry positions—to be, however, repulsed each time. After this they subjected the latter and the wire entanglements in front of them to continuous fire, which ceased neither by night nor by day. Our guns, too, were never silent, but unfortunately we had to go slow on account of our remaining ammunition. The extraordinary length of the siege, the never-ceasing artillery fire, and the terrible tension under which we lived, began to tell on us. My own nerves were getting out of hand.
I could no longer force myself to eat, and sleep had become impossible. When I shut my eyes at night I immediately saw my map, and below me the Protectorate with its enemy trenches and positions. My head swam, and my ears ached from the whirl of the propeller, and I could hear, over and over again, the words of the Chief of Staff:
“Never forget, Plüschow, that you are now of more value to Kiao-Chow than our daily bread. Don’t fail to return and keep the machine going! And don’t forget that our shells are few, and that we use them according to your indications. Remember your responsibilities!”
God knows I was in no danger of forgetting them. I had no other thought but the enemy positions in my mind, visualizing time and again the fortifications over which I had flown, trying to remember whether I had actually seen what I had reported, and figuring out whether the few shells which we still possessed had not been squandered at my instigation.