We stagger, lean backwards, slip over, losing all grip on the floor which is sinking forward ... I am still just able to hold on to the eye-piece of the periscope ... and down below in the control-room the men are holding fast on to the hand-wheels of the diving rudders....
This lasts for several terrible moments.
We are still wondering what on earth has happened, when suddenly there comes a heavy blow; we are thrown to the ground in all directions, and everything that is not nailed securely down is hurled around us.
We find ourselves in the strangest positions, look at each other, and for a moment a deadly silence prevails. Then the first officer, Krapohl, observes dryly: "Well, we've got there, anyway."
This broke the horrible tension.
We had all grown pretty pale, and now we began to try and face the situation.
What had happened?
Why this unnatural angle of the boat? And why were the engines pounding so madly above us that the whole boat quivered and shook?
Before any of us had time to think, however, our little Klees, the steering engineer, had sprung from his cowering position, and quick as lightning had pulled the telegraph round to "Stop."
As suddenly a deep silence followed.