It was a bitter cold winter night between Christmas and New Year's, and if he thought that we were either crazy or spies he never let on.
"Have you passports?" he asked.
We showed our papers, and he told us that if we promised to stay on the boat and to come back to him he would let us go. We promised, and he wrote our names, our Hamburg, Berlin and American addresses, our age and religion in a book, and he told us to buy a ticket.
The round trip cost five pfennigs, and the old man escorted us to the ferry and talked to us until the boat was ready to start. He said that night and day 15,000 men were employed on the docks, and that besides all the men coming over on the boats many more came over through a tunnel that ran under the water. He said that they were building many boats, and that the "Bismarck" would be the largest boat afloat—55,000 tons—and that the "Tirpitz" would be 32,000 tons, and that so far during the war there had been made a total tonnage of new boats of 740,000 tons and that 100,000 tons were under construction. Then he told us about the school for sailor boys at Finkenwerder where boys were being trained as sailors, not for war but for the merchant marine after the war. I said that I thought this was certainly very enterprising.
Goulash Cannon Factory.
I did not realize what a wild night it was until our boat got started. The ferry tipped up and down, and the wind was like a knife. Boats were scooting all over the harbor, and we had a time to keep from bumping into things.
A boy of about twelve years was attending to the landings. He was a tough little kid, and he smoked one cigarette after another. And how he could swear! We wanted to ask him some questions, but neither of us had the courage. But finally he came over to us and almost blowing a puff of smoke into my face he said: "He is an old cab-driver and a Schreihals, and I hate him." He pointed to the pilot.
When our boat came to the second landing it slid under the end of a great black thing that hung over us. "That is the 'Imperator,'" said our sailor boy. It had been raised up out of the water to keep it from rotting, and this made it look bigger than ever. Some of its port holes showed lights. Just back of the "Imperator" the boy pointed out the "Bismarck." What a monster it was! It was all lighted up with electric lights. We could see workmen moving around on it, and we could hear the click of their hammers. The "Tirpitz" could hardly be seen. It lay beyond the "Bismarck" and the pelting snow blinded our view.
We passed all sorts of boats, cruisers, torpedo boats, supply boats, and steamers. I have never seen such a busy place as that harbor.