"Empty the ballast tanks!"
Never had I given orders with such a cheerful heart on the "Deutschland" before, and never was it more cheerfully carried out than when I called down to the control-room:
"Hurrah! the first German U-Boat in sight!"
What did it matter that we were standing on the tower and the barely risen deck in oil and sea water with a shower-bath playing over us?... There, over the green North Sea, came the first greeting of Germany, the mighty Fatherland, towards us! At full speed we rushed on, everyone on deck, and before long the two boats lay within calling distance of each other.
The first ear-splitting hurrah was flung across to us, and answered in like manner.
Then greetings and news were exchanged, and our ways parted again ... ours towards home, the U-X to her work.
The day drew in and night fell once more. So we travelled homewards, no light on deck, no light in the tower—like a dark shadow.
When the sun rose, however, on the following morning, we saw before us in the distance a characteristic silhouette, breaking through the veil of mist in a rosy light. An island, a bulwark in the North Sea—Heligoland lay before us.
Soon life began to awaken on the waters around us. Torpedo-boats shot up, patrol boats hurried along, flag signals fluttered in the air, wireless signals rattled out their greetings, and shouting and hand-wavings commenced, and then the iron ring of the German Fleet, which keeps safe watch over yonder, closed round our little "Deutschland," and under their protection we steered on past Heligoland towards the home haven.
But as we approached the well-known waters, even before the low homelike sandy coast came in sight, a wonderful spectacle fell to our lot, the strangest of greetings carried out with the utmost skill.