Part 5 (1/2)

That morning is unforgettable. The cold fog, the great bergs of ice floating by the s.h.i.+p and sometimes cras.h.i.+ng into her, the dreary sea, the cold, filthy, miserable s.h.i.+p, our hopeless condition, all helped to lower our spirits, and we felt we had plumbed the very depths of misery.

After a day or two slow steaming on this course and occasional stopping altogether--what dreary, miserable, hopeless days!--we resumed our attempt to go to the north of Iceland, evidently to escape the attention of the British s.h.i.+ps which the Germans expected to encounter between the south of Iceland and the Faroes. But before long it became evident that ice was still about, and in the darkness of the early morning of February 11th we b.u.mped heavily against icebergs several times. This threw some of us out of our bunks; once again there was no more sleep during the night. This time the Captain abandoned his attempt to go through the northern pa.s.sage, and turned the s.h.i.+p round to try his luck in the pa.s.sage he did not expect to be so free from British attentions.

We thought perhaps that as we were on short rations and even drinking water was running short, and the case of us all really desperate, the Captain would land us and give up the s.h.i.+p at Reykjavik, leaving us there to be rescued. Even a stay in Iceland would be better than one in Germany, for which country we now all suspected we were bound. The uncertainty concerning our ultimate destination added to our miseries, and these were not lessened when on February 11th the Captain told us, _for the first time_ that it was, and always had been, the intention to take us on the _Igotz Mendi_ to Germany, there to be interned in civilian prisoners' camps. He told us, too, that the women and those of the men over military age would be released at once, but we all declined to believe anything else our captors told us, as they had deliberately and repeatedly deceived us by a.s.suring us at various times they were going to land us in Spain, or Norway, or some other neutral country. The string of German lies must surely by now be ended. But no! There were still more to come, as will be seen later on.

At daylight on the 11th we were still among icefloes, but going away from instead of meeting them, and on that morning we saw in the distance the coast of Iceland, which the Germans tried to persuade us was the sails of fis.h.i.+ng boats, as they did not wish us to think we were so near the Icelandic coast, the first land that we had seen since the Maldive Islands, a week after our capture, i.e. more than four months before. We also saw a few fis.h.i.+ng boats off the coast.

We now shaped a course for the coast of Norway, keeping to the north of the Faroes. On Sunday, the 17th, we again ran into a very heavy storm.

Ever since the storm on January 27th the propeller had been constantly racing and sending shudders through the s.h.i.+p from stem to stern. On this day this feature, which was always disconcerting and to a certain extent alarming, became more marked, and the thud with which the s.h.i.+p met the seas more and more loud, so loud indeed that on one occasion the Captain thought we had struck a mine, and rushed from the saloon to the bridge to ascertain what damage had been done. Luckily for us, the engines were British made. No inferior workmans.h.i.+p could possibly have stood the terrific strain put on these engines during these weeks of terrible storms. The Captain and crew had by this time become very anxious as to the fate of the _Wolf_, as no news had been received concerning her. Day after day the Captain told us he expected news, but they went by without any being received. But on the evening of the 19th the Captain informed us that he had received a wireless message announcing the safe arrival of the _Wolf_ at a German port. The Germans seemed singularly little elated at the news, and hardly ever mentioned the subject again after that evening. This was so different from what we had expected that most of the prisoners did not believe the _Wolf_ had got home. We hoped that she had been intercepted and captured by a British cruiser, and that with any luck a similar fate might be in store for us.

The _Wolf_ had certainly made a wonderful cruise, and the Germans were naturally very proud of it--almost the only exploit of their navy of which they reasonably could be proud. They had successfully evaded the enemy for fifteen months, and had kept their s.h.i.+p in good repair, for they had first-cla.s.s mechanics and engineers on board. But she must have been very weather-worn and partly crippled before she arrived at a home port. She had touched at no port or no sh.o.r.e from the day she left Germany till the day she returned to the Fatherland. She was, too, the only German raider which had extended her operations beyond the Atlantic. The _Wolf_ had cruised and raided in the Indian and Pacific Oceans as well. She had sunk seven steamers and seven sailing s.h.i.+ps, and claimed many more s.h.i.+ps sunk as a result of her mine-laying. Besides the prizes already named, she had captured and sunk the _Turritella_, _Wordsworth_, _Jumna_, _Dee_, _Winslow_, and _Encore_, the last three of which were sailing vessels. Her first prize, the _Turritella_, taken in February 1917 in the Indian Ocean, was originally a German s.h.i.+p, a sister of the _Wolf_, captured by the British. On her recapture by the Germans, she was equipped as a raider and mine-layer, and sent off on an expedition by herself. But soon afterwards near Aden she encountered a British wars.h.i.+p, when the prize crew scuttled her and surrendered.

CHAPTER X

SAVED BY s.h.i.+PWRECK

The Germans were now getting very anxious as they approached the blockade zone. They affected, however, to believe that there was no blockade, and that there was no need of one now that America was in the war. ”No one will trade with us,” they said; ”accordingly there is no need of a blockade.” But, as some of the pa.s.sengers remarked to the Captain, ”If there is no blockade, as the Germans say, why haven't you more raiders out, instead of only one, and why have so few been able to come out?” There was, of course, no answer to this! The Captain further remarked that even if there were a blockade it would always be possible to get through it at the week-end, as all the British blockading fleet returned to port for that time! The _Wolf_, he said, came out and got home through the blockade at the week-end. It was quite simple; we were to do the same, and we should be escorted by submarines, as the _Wolf_ had been on both occasions.

Nevertheless, the Germans were at great pains to keep as far as possible from any place in which British s.h.i.+ps might appear. But unfortunately not one did appear, here or anywhere else, to rescue us, although we felt certain in our own minds that some of our s.h.i.+ps would be present and save us in these parts of the seas, which we believed were regularly patrolled. What meetings, discussions, and consultations we had in our wretched tiny cabin during these dreadful days and nights! We had cheered ourselves up for a long time past that the _Wolf_ would never get through the British blockade, and that some friendly vessel would surely be the means of our salvation. The Spanish officers who had had experience of the blockade also a.s.sured us that no vessel could possibly get through unchallenged; and we, in our turn, had a.s.sured the American captives among us of the same thing. There was no fog to help the enemy, the condition of the moon was favourable to us, and we had pointed out to each other on maps various places where there _must_ be British s.h.i.+ps on the watch. It was a bitter disappointment to us that we saw none.

It was heartbreaking. We had built so much on our hopes; it was galling beyond words for the enemy to be in the right and ourselves mistaken.

But, after all, we reflected, what is one s.h.i.+p in this vast expanse of stormy seas? In vain we tried to derive some comfort from this. But, alas! _we_ were on that one s.h.i.+p, which fact made all the difference! We had been ”hanging our hats” on the British Navy for so long--surely we were not mistaken! Surely, to change the metaphor, we were not going to be let down after all! The British Navy, we knew, never let anybody down; but in our condition of protracted physical and nervous depression, it was not to be wondered at that thoughts of hopelessness were often present in our minds.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE _IGOTZ MENDI_ ASh.o.r.e AT SKAGEN.

Taken on the morning of our rescue.]

On the 20th we were off Bergen, and saw the coast in the distance. I suggested to the Captain that it would save much trouble if he would land us there. He replied that he would very much like to, but was afraid it was quite impossible! I further asked him whether, if we were ultimately rescued, he would give us a pa.s.s conferring further immunity from capture at sea by the enemy, as we felt we had had more than our share of captivity at sea. He said he was afraid that would be against regulations! The next day we were nearer the coast and saw a couple of suspicious steam trawlers which gave the Germans a few anxious moments, and on that night we encountered the greatest storm we experienced on the cruise. The wind was terrific, huge seas broke over the s.h.i.+p, the alley-way outside the cabins was awash all the night, and the water even invaded the saloon to a small extent. Articles and receptacles for water that had not been made absolutely fast in the cabins were tossed about; many cabins were drenched and running with water. The noise of the wind howling and the seas breaking on the deck was so alarming to those in the outside cabins that they left the cabins, waded up the alley-way, and a.s.sembled in the saloon, though sleep that night was utterly impossible there or anywhere else on the s.h.i.+p. The German officers when coming off watch came to the saloon and a.s.sured us that things were all right and that there was no danger, but the Spanish Captain was very concerned as to the treatment his s.h.i.+p was receiving both at the hands of the elements and those of the Germans, who frankly said they cared nothing about the condition of the s.h.i.+p provided they got her into Germany. The s.h.i.+p, though steaming full speed, made no progress that night, but went back, and in three days, the 19th, 20th, and 21st, made only 100 knots.

After such stormy nights, and in such bitter cold weather, a breakfast of cold canned crab, or dry bread with sugar, or rice and hot water plus a very little gravy, or bread and much watered condensed milk, was not very nouris.h.i.+ng or satisfying, but very often that was all we had. The food we had was just sufficient to keep us alive, and that was all. This weather of course pleased the German Captain, who said that no enemy s.h.i.+p would or could board him under such conditions. In fact, he said no enemy vessel would be out of port in such weather! Only those supermariners, the Germans, could manage a s.h.i.+p under similar conditions! He told us we were much safer on the _Igotz Mendi_ than we should be on a British cruiser, which might at any time be attacked by a German armed s.h.i.+p. ”I would rather die on a British cruiser to-night,”

my wife retorted, ”than be a prisoner in Germany,” an opinion we all endorsed. The weather alone was sufficiently terrifying to the landsmen amongst us; the prospect of having to take to the lifeboats at any moment if the Germans took it in into their heads to sink the s.h.i.+p if she were sighted by an enemy s.h.i.+p added to the fears of all of us. None of us dared undress thoroughly before turning in--when we did turn in, lifebelts were always kept handy, and we had to be ready for any emergency at any moment. And, as will be readily understood, our imaginations had been working horribly during the last few months, especially since we began to encounter the rough weather and the winter gales in the grey and cheerless wastes of the North Atlantic. The natural conditions were bad enough in all conscience. But, in addition, we had the knowledge that if we survived them we were going into German captivity. Could anything be worse?

There had been no boat drill, and the lifeboat accommodation was hopelessly inadequate for more than eighty people now on board. It is certain, with the mixed crew on board, that there would have been a savage fight for the boats. The prospect, looked at from any point of view, was alarming, and one of the greatest anxiety for us all. Physical distress and discomfort were not the only things we had to contend with--the nervous strain was also very great, and seemed endless.

On February 22nd we rounded the Naze. Here, we thought, we should certainly come across some British vessel. But that day and the next pa.s.sed--it seemed as if we too were to get in during the week-end!--and hope of rescue disappeared. Many messages had been dropped overboard in bottles and attached to spars, etc., during the voyage, but all, apparently, in vain. The bearing of the Germans towards us became markedly changed, discipline more rigid, and still greater care was taken that no vestige of light showed anywhere at night. We were almost in their clutches now, the arrival at Kiel and transference to Ruhleben were openly talked of, and our captors showed decided inclination to jeer at us and our misfortunes. We were told that all diaries, if we had kept them, must be destroyed, or we should be severely punished when we arrived in Germany. Accordingly, those of us who had kept diaries made ready to destroy them, but fortunately did not do so. I cut the incriminating leaves out of mine, ready to be torn up and thrown overboard. I had written my diary in Siamese characters during the whole time, so the Germans could not have gained much information from it.

Sunday, February 24th, dawned, a cold, cheerless day. ”I suppose this time next week we shall be going to church in Kiel,” said one of the prisoners to the chief mate at breakfast. ”Or,” the latter replied, ”I might be going to church with my brother, who is already a prisoner in the Isle of Man!” We were now in the comparatively narrow waters of the Skager-Rack, and we saw only one vessel here, a Dutch fis.h.i.+ng boat. Our last chance had nearly gone. Most of us were now resigned to our fate and saw no hope--in fact, I had written in my diary the day before, ”There is no hope left, no boat of ours to save us”--but some said we still might see a British war vessel when we rounded the Skaw. At mid-day the sailor on the look-out came into the saloon and reported to the Captain that a fog was coming on. ”Just the weather I want,” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands. ”With this lovely fog we shall round the Skaw and get into German waters un.o.bserved.” It looked, indeed, as if our arrival in Germany were now a dead certainty.

But the fog that the Captain welcomed was just a little too much for him; it was to prove his undoing rather than his salvation. The ”Good old German G.o.d,” about whom we had heard so much, was not going to see them through this time. For once, _we_ were to be favoured. The white fog thickened after the mid-day meal, and, luckily for us, it was impossible to see far ahead. Soon after two we pa.s.sed a floating mine, and we knew that before long we should be going through a minefield--not a very cheerful prospect with floating mines round us in a fog, especially as the Captain admitted that the position of the mines might have been altered since he last had knowledge of their exact situation!

But we were all too far gone to care now; and some of us gathered together in our cold and gloomy cabin were discussing the prospects and conditions of imprisonment in Germany and attempting to console ourselves with the reflection that even internment at Ruhleben could not be worse than the captivity we had experienced on the high seas, when, at 3.30 on that Sunday afternoon, we felt a slight b.u.mp, as if the s.h.i.+p had touched bottom. Then another b.u.mp, and then still one more! We were fast! Were we really to be saved at the very last minute? It began to look like it, like the beginning of the end, but it would not do to build too much on this slender foundation. The engines continued working, but no progress was made; they were reversed--still no movement.

One of the men amongst us was so overjoyed that he attempted a very premature somersault in the saloon. He was sure it was to be a case of ”Hooray for our side” this time! What thoughts of freedom, what hopes flashed through our minds! The fog was fairly thick, but we could just make out through it the line of the sh.o.r.e and the waves breaking on it some distance away, and two sirens were going at full blast, one from a lights.h.i.+p and one from a lighthouse. The Captain, luckily from our point of view, had mistaken one for the other, and so had run aground. The German officers became agitated; with great difficulty a boat was got out--what chance should we have had if we had had to leave the s.h.i.+p in haste at any time?--soundings made, and various means adopted to work the s.h.i.+p off, but all were of no avail. The Captain admitted that his charts of this particular spot were not new and not good. Again how lucky for us! It was impossible to tell the state of the tide at this moment; we all hoped it might be high tide, for then our rescue would be certain. The engines were set to work from time to time, but no movement could be made. Darkness fell, and found us still stuck fast. Our spirits had begun to rise, the prospect was distinctly brighter, and soon after six o'clock the a.s.sistant Lieutenant went ash.o.r.e in mufti to telephone to the nearest port, Frederikshavn, for help. What reply he received we never heard, but we _did_ hear that he reported he was on a German s.h.i.+p from Bergen to Kiel and wanted help. Lourenco Marques to Kiel, via Iceland, would have been nearer the truth!

About eight o'clock we heard from one of the neutrals among the crew that the Captain of a salvage tug was shortly coming aboard to inquire into matters. The ladies among us decided to stay in the saloon while the Captain of the tug interviewed the German Captain in the chartroom above it. On the arrival of the tug Captain on the bridge, the ladies in the saloon created a veritable pandemonium, singing, shrieking, and laughing at the top of their voices. It sounded more like a Christmas party than one of desperate prisoners in distress. The Danish Captain departed; what had been the result of his visit we did not know, but at any rate he knew there were women on board. The German Captain came down into the saloon, asked pleasantly enough what all the noise was about, and said, ”I have offered the salvage people 5,000 to tow the s.h.i.+p off; money is nothing to us Germans. This will be done at four to-morrow morning, and we shall then proceed on our way to Kiel.”

Some of us had talked over a plan suggested by the second mate of a captured s.h.i.+p, by which one of the neutrals among the crew should contrive to go ash.o.r.e in one of the tug's boats in the darkness, communicate with the nearest British Consul, and inform him of the situation and the desperate case we were in. We promised him 500, to be raised among the ”saloon pa.s.sengers,” if by so doing our rescue should be accomplished.

We remained in the saloon talking over developments when we heard that a Danish gunboat had come nearly alongside, and that her Commander was coming on board. He had presumably received a report from the Captain of the tug. We heard afterwards that he had his suspicions about the s.h.i.+p, and had brought with him on board one of his own men to make inquiries of the crew, among whom were Norwegians, Swedes, and Danes, while he kept the German Commander busy in the saloon. The previous mistake of taking the Danish Captain on to the bridge was not to be repeated. The Commander of the gunboat was to come into the saloon. So the ladies could not remain there and make their presence known. But some of them contrived to leave some of their garments on the table and settee in the saloon--a m.u.f.f, hats, gloves, etc. These the Danish Commander must have seen; and not only that, for he saw some ladies who had stood in one door of the saloon before they were sent to their cabins, when he entered at the other one. He also saw the Australian Major of the A.M.C., in khaki, and other pa.s.sengers standing with the ladies in the alley-way. If he had entertained any suspicions as to the correct character of the s.h.i.+p, which the Germans were of course trying to conceal, they must have been strongly confirmed by now. It was now too late for us to be sent to our cabins, as a German sailor came and ordered. We had achieved our object.