The "Ayesha," being the adventures of the landing squad of the "Emden"

by Hellmuth von Mücke

As soon as the moon had risen, and we could see as much as three hundred meters ahead, we set to work to improve our position. First of all, water was served to the men, and hard tack distributed. While some of the officers and men remained on guard ready for action, others set to work at deepening the trenches, an undertaking that proceeded but slowly, as we had no proper tools for the work. Still others were engaged in removing the dead camels from within our enclosure. The intense heat caused putrefaction to set in very rapidly. The carcasses swelled up, the tense hides burst, and the entrails exuded. As at this season of the year the wind blows persistently from the north, we took the dead camels to the southward of us, so that the stench might not sicken us.

It was well into the night before we felt free to take a little rest. The trenches were now so deep that they afforded ample shelter for the men lying in them. We had thrown up mounds of sand on all sides, in addition to the protection afforded us by the camels. Our rifles and pistols had suffered considerably from the incessantly drifting sand. They were now taken apart, a few at a time, cleaned and tested. Then we wrapped our handkerchiefs around the locks, and stuffed small bits of cloth into the muzzles to keep out the sand. All this care was necessary to insure the efficiency of our weapons. That there might always be some one on guard within our fortification, a part of the men remained awake at their posts while the others slept with their loaded rifles in their arms. There was always one officer awake. But nothing of importance occurred during the night.

At nine o’clock that evening, Lieutenant Schmidt, the officer who had been so terribly wounded, died. We dug a grave for him as deep as possible in the middle of our camping place, and toward eleven o’clock in the night, we four surviving officers ourselves bore our fallen comrade to his grave. There could be no service at the burial. The volley over his freshly made grave was fired by the enemy on the coming morning.

I had brought with me from Hodeida an English-speaking Arab. During the course of the night, as soon as the moon had risen, I sent this man to Djidda, only a ten hours’ march by camel distant from us, and only eight by foot. I had found him to be a very reliable and sensible man, and, as I learned later, he succeeded in making his way through the enemy’s lines, and took the report of our perilous situation to the military authorities at Djidda.

Half an hour before sunrise I had all hands roused. If the enemy had remained, there would, in all likelihood, be an attack made upon us as soon as the day had fully come. For the sake of the moral effect, it was my purpose to return their first fire with as heavy volleys as possible. I wished to convince the enemy that we were fully prepared for an attack, and that our fighting strength was undiminished.

What I had expected, happened. As the sun rose, our opponents opened a lively fire upon us. We gave them a vigorous answer with full volleys, and every head that showed itself received its share. This method of procedure perceptibly dampened the fighting spirit of our opponents. Their fire became noticeably weaker and more cautious. Our purpose was achieved.

Just before sunrise all hands were served with a drink of water. During the entire course of the day there was not another opportunity to give them more. Not until after the sun had set could another drink be given them. As we did not find it possible to cook anything even at night, our store of hard tack was drawn upon, and every man stuffed his pockets full.

The enemy fired upon us without intermission. But, as we were pretty well protected, we returned their fire sparingly. That we were not engaged in an ordinary encounter with robbers, but were facing a thoroughly organized attack, now became doubly evident. From our fortified camp we could plainly see two large zambuks lying at anchor near the shore in the far distance. Between them and the Arabs who were besieging us, a regular relief system was being carried on. A large number of our foes must have come in these two ships. Others had arrived by land, which was shown by the fact that far off in the desert, near the horizon, a large number of camels could be seen grazing. On this day, unhappily, two more of our men were severely wounded. Of these, Lanig, a fireman, was shot through the breast and abdomen, and died during the night. Unfortunately, we could give our wounded but little aid, as all our medical stores were lost together with the zambuk that foundered. All that we had left was the emergency bandage packages that we had brought with us from the Emden, and a few bottles of brandy.

The day brought forth nothing of special interest. A camel that had escaped from our enclosure was shot by a stray bullet to leeward of us, and the intense odor of decay that the wind brought with it was a source of annoyance. Within our camp itself, some very unpleasant guests had made their appearance. Hundreds and thousands of nasty black beetles about the length of a man’s thumb ran about everywhere, carrying the camel dung all over the camp. Our trenches were alive with these insects, and it mattered little how many we killed, for new ones came to fill their places as fast as we killed them. Sleep was impossible. They crawled into our clothing, and ran over our faces. Aside from the annoyance they caused us, they brought a very real danger to our wounded. The tetanus bacilli develop more readily in horse and camel manure than in anything else, and the inevitable result of this infection is the deadly lockjaw.