I asked the Captain if there were anything to do. "No," he answered. Boom! a cannon shot was heard at the very moment. General confusion. All the men ran up on deck and looked about, terrified. Boom! another cannon shot. Then one of the German sailors, pointing to a spot on the horizon, said: "A German submarine."

It was true. The black spot grew rapidly larger, and then one could make out some human figures near the small cannon on the deck. It was the famous U-39. We hoisted our flag and awaited events. The Captain sent the mate with our ship's papers over to the submarine, which was now near. Soon those who were not German received orders to take to the boats. The Germans were taken on board the U-39, I among them. When this was done our ship was sunk.

So there I was on board a submarine. The impression of it was strange enough. The first evening, quite exhausted, I threw myself down in a corner. I heard a few short orders, then the sound of the machinery.... After that everything was in absolute silence. Some said we were navigating at such a depth that big ships could pass overhead of us.... I fell asleep.

Next day on waking I tried to get my bearings. We Germans were treated as friends. We were permitted to go about everywhere.

The boat had the shape of a gigantic cigar, about 200 feet long, divided into numerous compartments. They were full of shining instruments. Now there was a buzzing sound, like the inside of a bee-hive, now absolute silence reigned. Every nerve was tense with the expectation of the orders on which our lives depended. Toward the prow was the room from which the torpedo was launched, a room full of tubes and valves. The officers' lodgings are very restricted, since the space on board a submarine proscribes any comfort. The commander was Lieut. Capt. Foerstner, a tall young man, thin and pale—which is not surprising, since he never had a moment's repose; neither he nor the men of the crew ever got their clothes off during the twelve days I was on board.

The periscope, the eye of the submarine, made known to us everything that took place on the surface of the water, and it did so with such clearness that it was almost like looking through a telescope. There was always a man on watch there.

II—"I WAS ABOARD THE U-39"

Suddenly a ship comes in sight. Its smoke is like a black line drawn on the horizon. A bell rings. It is a signal for each man to be at his post. The U-39 slowly rises to the surface. A last look is given at the mirror of the periscope; no English coast guard is in sight. So everything is ready for action. We hear the command, "Empty the water cistern." Freed from her ballast, the submarine rises to the surface. "Both engines ahead at full speed!" The boat cleaves her way through the water that cascades her sides with foam. In a short time the ship is reached. The submarine hoists her flag and fires a cannon shot. No flag betrays the nationality of the captured ship, but we can read the name, Gadsby, on her side. She is English. We signal that her whole crew is to take to the lifeboats, and quickly! At any moment we may be surprised.

Through the megaphone we indicate to the men the nearest way to land; then a cannon shot, then a second one. The captured ship, after pitching for a while, sinks.

The time necessary for the sinking of a ship differs considerably in different cases. Some disappear in five minutes, others float for several hours. The finest spectacle I witnessed was the sinking of the Fiery Cross. The crew received orders to get off in the boats. Some of our men rowed up close to the abandoned ship and attached hand grenades to her sides. They were fired and the three-master was blown up with all her sails spread and set. The hull and the rigging went down to the depths, but the sails spread out on the surface of the water like so many little fields of polar ice. Eleven ships were destroyed during my stay on board. Quite a number of others were captured, besides these, but they were let go again.