When we arrived in Honolulu the sun was shining brightly, and I had to look twice before I dared trust my eyes. For did I not see the German war flag!
And as we dropped anchor there lay alongside, like a tiny cockleshell, the small cruiser Geier, which, coming from the South Seas, had run the blockade and had just been interned. What a curious meeting! I met dear comrades again from whom I had heard nothing for a long time, in the midst of war, far from our country, after momentous happenings. We talked and talked without end.
At the beginning of the war the Geier lay far away to the south amongst the coral-reefs. She only heard of the Russian mobilization, then her wireless went to pieces, and she swam about without news in the Pacific. Only fourteen days later, the Geier heard something of the war with England and later with Japan. This meant caution. Surrounded and hunted by a score of enemies, the small cruiser achieved a voyage of many thousands of sea miles to Honolulu, either taken in tow by a small steamer or sailing on her own. And when the huge Japanese cruiser, which lay on the watch for her at the mouth of the harbour, one fine morning beheld the cockleshell safe in port, with the German flag flying at the masthead, the yellow monkey had to slink off homewards with its tail between its legs.
After our departure from Honolulu I had a bone to pick with my war correspondent. Beaming with joy, he brought me the Honolulu Times and proudly showed me the first page, on which my name, my profession and my nationality were recorded in immense letters, followed by several columns of close print, which recounted all my misdeeds during and after the siege of Kiao-Chow.
Truly American this—to be judged according to what the papers said.
But the whole business was extremely painful to me, for I had every reason to fear that the American authorities would arrest me on my arrival at San Francisco on the strength of this report. However, all the Americans on board reassured me and expressed their opinion that I would be allowed to go my own way without hindrance. For what I had done was “good sport.” On the contrary, people in America would be delighted at my adventures, and if I only behaved sensibly, and gave up my foolish German militarist ideas, I could make a lot of money there. The thing for me to do was to apply to the right kind of newspaper. It would take the matter in hand, arrange for the needful publicity, and then I could travel from town to town—possibly preceded by a band—and collect “plenty dollars.” Those Americans were truly gifted with fine feelings! One of these gentlemen, a jolly old man, who had a charming daughter with him, came to me one day and took me seriously in hand.
“Now look here, Mr. MacGarvin, I like you; I take an interest in your career. What are you going to do now? You have probably no money. You are unknown in America, and it is difficult to find a job there!”
“Well, I want to return to Germany and fight for my country, as I am an officer.”
He smiled with pity.
“You will never be able to get out of America. And with all respect for your confidence in your country and your enthusiasm—believe me, I have good connections over there—in a few months Germany will be annihilated, and then you will neither get work nor be allowed to live there. England will allow no German officer to remain in Germany when the war is over. They will all be deported. The German Empire will be divided, and the Kaiser deposed by his own people. Do be sensible; try to make a new home for yourself and stay in America. I am quite ready to help you.”