'Oh, damn this Quee-ee-eenstown,' growled the second mate, imitating the voice of the English officer, which was still echoing in our ears. The stout little fellow had not lost his sense of humour in spite of all our misfortunes.
So we were forced to study the details of Queenstown Harbour on a general chart of Ireland. Unfortunately, this chart gave very few details. We discovered, however, that the average depth of the outer entrance to the harbour was twenty to twenty-five fathoms. This suited our purpose admirably. There was enough water to prevent the wreck being raised, and there was still the possibility that we might obstruct the channel if the Aud came to rest in the right position.
As dawn approached, the Bluebell altered course, keeping closer to the coast, which, with its low chalk-cliffs, covered with rich green meadow, was now plainly visible. 'We can celebrate Easter Sunday there,' I heard a voice behind me say. It was Battermann, of course, the signalman of the grinning countenance. And sure enough it was the 22nd of April, and next day would be Easter Sunday! In the excitement of the last few days I had lost count of time. At sunrise the destroyers considered their task finished, for after a short exchange of signals with the leading ship they turned and steamed westwards. The warships patrolling these waters were now so numerous that the enemy judged us to be safe. Nevertheless, the Bluebell (evidently fearing some stratagem on our part) thought it advisable to leave the head of the convoy and move to the rear, whence she could keep a better watch on us, nosing round us now on the starboard side, now on the port side, but always at a respectful distance.
During the night I had ordered the crew to put on uniform under their Norwegian costume. Their naval caps they stuffed into their pockets, so that at the given moment they had only to cast off their heavy leather jackets in order to be recognised as German sailors. The first and second mate and myself followed the same procedure. Galley Lighthouse, which stands below the entrance to Queenstown, was now visible. Shortly afterwards the lightship (which at that time lay in mid-channel) came into view. As there was no traffic of any sort in the western half of the channel we surmised—correctly—that a minefield was laid there.
Fifteen minutes more and we should be there. The quays swarmed with war craft of every description. In order to do the job thoroughly I had ordered the condenser to be smashed before the ship was blown up. The engineer had consequently let the pressure fall so low that we were steaming, or rather crawling, not more than two knots, and our escort did not attempt to protest. In view of the proximity of the harbour and of the other warships they probably felt surer of us now. How confident they were, and how unsuspecting, will be seen from the fact that during the last hour they had been busy getting into harbour trim. Guns were polished and covered with tarpaulins, ropes neatly coiled down and decks scrubbed, and many of the crew might be seen in shore-going clothes, brushing one another down. We could hardly believe our eyes when we noticed their light-hearted carelessness and contrasted it with the deep mistrust they had previously shown.
The moment which was to decide our fate was now at hand. In view of the dangerous cargo which we carried above the explosive bombs, I had to reckon with the fact that when I blew up the ship we might all be blown to bits. I therefore passed the word that I required four volunteers to blow up the ship and hoist the German naval flag, but that the others were free to lower a boat just before the explosion was timed to take place. A unanimous, almost angry, 'No!' was the answer—'we will stay with the captain till the end.' It is a great satisfaction to me to express here to my brave crew my thanks for their fidelity.
Moreover, to ascertain what the Bluebell intended with us I now signalled, 'Where are we to anchor?' And shortly afterwards I received the answer, 'Await further orders.' 'All right, then,' said I to myself, 'you will soon see.' And I had the secret satisfaction that up to the very end it was I that called the tune.
When we were about three-quarters of a mile from the lightship a deep scheme occurred to me. On our port side a large English cargo-steamer was tearing along at top speed. She was a ship of about 8000 tons and in ballast, so that she stood high out of the water. We could send her to the bottom along with the Aud.
'Port ... 10 ... 15.' 'Ease her a little.' 'Steady.' 'Keep her at that!'