The Colodia was drifting more than a cable’s length from the wreck of the German airship that had fallen into the sea. Philip Morgan and George Belding were some minutes in dropping down to the wreck, each upborne by his life buoy, the lines of which were payed out by their comrades on the destroyer’s deck.
The ropes soon grew very heavy and had the ship been much further away the two boys would have found the life rings of little aid to them. However, when the waves swept them against the twisted framework of the Zeppelin, they were still held well above the surface of the sea and were able to seize parts of the wreckage.
Whistler signaled those on the Colodia to cease paying out. Then he turned to look up at the struggling men above his head. George Belding cried:
“All right, Phil?”
He bawled the query so loud that Whistler heard him above the noise of the sea and the creaking of the wreckage.
“Hunky-dory!” he returned. He pointed above, and Belding could easily read his lips: “Which of these Heinies shall we get first?”
One man was already letting himself down toward the rescuers. By the trimming on his uniform the American boys were positive he was an officer—perhaps the commander of the Zeppelin.
“Tell that fellow to pass down those who are injured,” Whistler yelled so that his friend could hear him. “I believe he’s going to try to hog one of these buoys!”
Belding put up a hand to stop the German. The latter addressed the two American lads in English.
“I am Herr Hauptman von Hausen. I am in command. Will your comrades draw me aboard in the bight of that rope?”