Somebody asked Rose why he didn't introduce us to his friend, and Rose answered: "What do you think I am—a fool?" Nobody went on record with an opinion, so the matter was dropped. In the meantime, Lieutenant Wolf had gone ashore and had 'phoned from the lighthouse at Scow Point, where we were ashore, to a salvage company in Skagen, saying that we were a German merchant ship bound from Bergen, Norway, to Kiel, and that we had run ashore in the fog; and that if a tug was sent immediately we could be pulled off easily, but if we were allowed to lie any length of time, the ship would bed herself in the sand and it would mean a long delay in getting off. I understand he offered 25,000 kroner for the job; at any rate, the manager of the salvage company ordered his largest tug, the Viking, around, but instructed his captain not to put a line on board until the manager had gone down overland and investigated a little. Lieutenant Wolf in the meantime returned on board and reported to Rose, who was immensely tickled and told us that about midnight a tug would arrive from "a nearby town" and pull us into deep water, and that by four o'clock in the morning at the latest we would be on our way to Germany once more.
This news led to great consternation among us, and some great arguments regarding neutrality laws were carried on. On all the trip the Colonel had been quoting the Geneva convention, until we had all concluded that this particular convention was held for the express benefit of the medical officers of the army. I asked the Colonel if he remembered anything in the Geneva convention regarding the grounding of a belligerent's prize on neutral ground. He answered by saying that clause so and so, paragraph so and so, expressly stated that all medical officers should be exempt from ... at this point I butted in and told him to "go to hell"; that there were women and children and other prisoners on board as well as medical officers. All throughout the trip this man had behaved like a dog in a manger, being the quintessence of egotistical selfishness, and despised by us, one and all. The conclusion of all our argument was that might was right in this war, and that the Germans would do just what they liked, provided they could hoodwink the Danish officials.
The manager of the Danish salvaging company, on arriving at the lighthouse and talking with the various people there, concluded that perhaps things were not just right with the Igotz Mendi and that he had better get in touch with the Danish naval authorities before doing anything. He called up the Commander of the Danish cruiser Diana and stated the case, saying that things didn't appear to be just right. The Commander, a Lieutenant Lagoni, getting in touch with the authorities, 'phoned the manager of the salvage company that he would come right down to investigate. At about midnight the Diana arrived and Lieutenant Lagoni, being a gentleman and also a shrewd, wide-awake officer, took his chief officer on board the Igotz Mendi, telling him that he, the commander, would keep the captain of the Igotz Mendi busy answering questions in the saloon while the chief officer should have a good look around and gather what information he could. As soon as the Danish commander arrived on board we were all pushed and shoved into our rooms and the doors closed. When Rose started to take Lieutenant Lagoni into the chart room above the Lieutenant said: "Oh, no, Captain, let's go into the saloon; it is not customary to entertain the commander of a cruiser in the chart room." So they came into the saloon. Just as he came through the door he saw some of us being hustled out of sight—but said nothing. Shortly one of the ladies would shout down the alleyway: "Oh, Mrs. So and So, won't you come to my room for a minute? Don't be frightened." All this for the benefit of the Danish officer in the saloon. In the meantime the Danish chief officer was wandering around the Igotz Mendi, taking notice of all he saw. While strolling through the bunkers, where our "temporary" warm place was, he noticed Nita's "kewpie" doll lying where she had dropped it. There were men standing around all through these quarters. Suddenly the officer turned on a man standing there and said: "You're not a German." The man answered saying: "No, sir; I am a Dane." "Well, what are you doing here?" was the next question. The Dane, Jensen, told him he was from the Wolf and was working here on the Igotz Mendi, and that there were American and British prisoners on board, including some women and children. After completing his rounds, the Danish officer went on deck and told Lieutenant Lagoni that he was ready, and calling him aside, told him what he had found out. Lieutenant Lagoni then gave orders to disable the wireless plant and told Rose that the tug could not assist him off the beach, and that at the end of twenty-four hours the vessel would be interned providing she was still under German flag, and advised him to land any prisoners he had.
"IGOTZ MENDI" ASHORE ON THE DANISH COAST. TAKEN THE MORNING WE LANDED, FEBRUARY 26TH, 1918.
LIFE BOAT LEAVING THE BEACH FOR THE STRANDED "IGOTZ MENDI".
Of course during all this talk we prisoners knew nothing at all of what was going on, and when we saw the Danish officers leaving we came to the conclusion that our case was lost, and as there was an armed sentry pacing back and forth in front of the two doors leading from the cabin to the deck, it looked black indeed, and I for one felt very, very disappointed. The strain was beginning to tell on my wife again; so we both lay down on the bunk with our clothes on and listened to Rose on the bridge, ringing the telegraph and working his engines in a vain attempt to get his vessel off the beach. As I lay there thinking, I could not but pity Rose, realising how he must have felt.