[11] One cannot help wondering whether Lieutenant Spindler thinks that an unknown call-sign on the Irish coast would have attracted no attention from the English authorities.
CHAPTER XVI WE REACH OUR GOAL
It was Thursday, the 20th of April. A fresh, glorious morning. During the night the wind had died away. The air was still, and the broad, even undulations of a north-westerly swell made the only movement on the water.
During the night the false casing round the funnel had been completed.
In order to have everything ready for the landing when we reached Tralee Bay, the camouflage cargo had, of course, to be removed from above the munitions. This proved to be no light task, for the pit-props were rather green and consequently heavy, which delayed the unloading a good deal.
All hands had to turn to and open hatches, and throw the whole of the false cargo overboard. In half an hour's time the upper deck looked like a packing department at one of the big stores. Window-frames, door-frames, tin-ware, zinc buckets, tin baths, and the like were sent up in a steady stream from the hold and piled upon the deck. Boxes and straw went into the furnaces, the rest was heaved overboard. Before long our course was marked by a trail of flotsam and jetsam that stretched to the horizon.
With a vague instinct that it might come in useful, I retained on board a small quantity of the pit props—a precaution which was well repaid on the following day.