CAPTAIN CAMERON AND HIS DAUGHTER NITA
BY
CAPTAIN JOHN STANLEY CAMERON
Master of the American Bark Beluga
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
Copyright, 1918,
By George H. Doran Company
Printed in the United States of America
Captain John Stanley Cameron, master of the American bark Beluga, who tells the story of his great adventure on board the German raider Wolf, and subsequently on the prize ship Igotz Mendi, in this volume, is of Scotch parentage, thirty-four years old; a smooth-shaven, canny graduate of the "before the mast" school, and prematurely gray. His father is a well-known figure on the Pacific Coast, being the oldest sailing master living in his part of the world.
Captain Cameron went to sea at the age of three. At thirteen he was earning his living as an able-bodied seaman, and he has been a master of sailing vessels since he was twenty-one. He figured in the news some few years ago by taking a sailing yacht of seventy-four tons from New York to San Francisco; the smallest vessel of her class to beat through the Straits of Magellan. Since then, Captain Cameron has retired from sea—until his last trip as master of the Beluga.
In setting down Captain Cameron's story much as it came from his own lips, I have treated it as a simple record of human experience, avoiding any chance of spoiling this bully sea yarn by attempting to give it a literary finish.
Cyril Brown.
Captain Cameron and His Daughter Nita
The German Auxiliary Cruiser Wolf
Showing "Mannlicher" Type Torpedo Tube
Final Dive of Japanese Steamer Hitachi Maru
Showing 4.7 "Ordinary" Portside Gun
Burial of A. Johnson, Second Officer
on American Bark Beluga
Last of the American Bark William Kirby
American Schooner Winslow
The Blowing up of American Schooner Winslow
Igotz Mendi Ashore on the Danish Coast
Life-boat Leaving Beach for the
Stranded Igotz Mendi
TEN MONTHS IN A GERMAN RAIDER
CAPTURED BY PIRATES
Little did I dream when I sailed away from San Francisco in the little bark Beluga that I should finish my voyage, not in Australia after a two months' trip, but in Denmark, on the other side of the world, after a ten months' experience that has never before been equalled in the annals of sea-going history.
My story could well be called "An Escape from the Jaws of Hell"—for a prisoner's life in Germany under the present conditions is surely a hell on earth. During my six weeks' stay in Denmark I have interviewed neutral sailors who have been sent out of Germany, and old men who have been passported out on account of extreme old age; also prisoners who have escaped over the border into Denmark via the coal-train route, and these men one and all paint a picture of a prisoner's life in Germany as being a veritable hell on earth.
We sailed from San Francisco on the 15th day of May, 1917, with a cargo of 15,000 cases of benzine, for Sydney, Australia. After letting go the tug boat and getting sail on the ship, we all settled down for a quiet and uneventful passage. Seldom have I gone to sea under more favourable circumstances. A tight little vessel, a good deep water crew of Scandinavian sailor men, plenty of good wholesome provisions and a cook who knew his business. Both the first and second mates were officers of the old school, with years of experience, so it seemed that I was fortunate in getting so evenly balanced a crew, as owing to the frenzied state of shipping along the Pacific Coast at that time the master was indeed fortunate who found on getting to sea that half of this crew could box the compass, much less hand, reef and steer.
Even under these favourable circumstances there was a "fly in the ointment." On counting noses I made the discovery that the entire ship's company amounted to thirteen (an unlucky number, as every "salt" will testify). A ship's crew of eleven, counting myself, and two passengers, my wife and little daughter. When I called this fact to my wife's attention she laughed at me, saying that was "old sailor's tommyrot" and that we were living in the twentieth century and should have outgrown such silly superstitions. Nevertheless, owing to a strain of Scotch blood in my veins, the superstition remained in my mind for many days until, owing to the humdrum uneventfulness of our progress, this thought died a natural death.
I crossed the equator well to the westward, passing the Fiji Islands and hoping that when I ran out of the southeast trade winds I would get a favourable wind and cut close by the southern ends of New Caledonia. I had a hunch, and if I had been lucky and had two days' favourable wind this story would never have happened. But unfortunately, unfavourable winds were encountered, forcing me to the southward and into the regular sailing vessel route.
My wife, an Australian girl by birth, had not been home to see her family since she left them something over ten years ago, and naturally was very anxious to get home and see her many brothers and sisters who had grown up and married since she left. In fact, she had talked of nothing else for the past several years. Each year I promised that we would make the visit "next year," but something or other would show up and spoil my plans. I had given up the sea about six years ago for a "shore job," and was so well pleased with the change that I did not care to go back to the sea again, fearing that I would not be able to change from the sea to the shore life again, as there is something about the sea that gets into the blood and makes it difficult to stay away from it. It was only then an unusual chain of circumstances that left me foot loose at this particular time to take charge of the Beluga on this trip. The fact is, it was what my wife called the "Scotch Jew" in me that finally decided me to take this means of making money out of visiting the mother-in-law.
Each day at noon when I placed the vessel's position on the chart, my wife was a very interested spectator and used to measure the distances that remained for us to go. Then she would figure out just how long it would take, under various weather conditions, before she would be able to see her beloved Australia again. Some days when we had a favourable wind and had made a good day's run in the right direction, she would be as happy as could be and singing all the time, but other days when we had made but little progress she would be away down in the dumps, and it would be extremely difficult to get a smile.
On July 9th I was having some work done aloft on one of the masts, when about two o'clock in the afternoon Fritz, a Norwegian sailor working aloft, shouted down, "Smoke, oh, on the port beam." I had a look through my binoculars, and, sure enough, on the horizon to the southwest I could make out the smoke of a steamer. The weather at this time was fine and clear, with a light breeze from the south and we were making only about four knots per hour. In a short time it became evident that the steamer was coming in our direction, as she was gradually getting larger and more plainly seen. I shouted down the cabin skylight to my wife to come on deck and see the steamer, as she was the only vessel of any description we had seen since leaving San Francisco, almost two months before. She and Juanita, my six-year-old daughter, scampered on deck and were very much interested in watching her. It soon became evident that the steamer was going to pass close to us, and thinking it just possible that she would speak us, my wife and Nita went below to change their frocks.
The steamer was getting closer by this time and her hull was plainly visible. The old superstition regarding the unlucky number "thirteen" flashed through my mind but was instantly dismissed. To all appearances she was the ordinary black-painted, dingy-looking ocean tramp. I studied her intently through the glass, trying to discover some detail that would show her nationality, and had just about concluded that she must be a Jap when Mr. Buckert, my Chief Officer, came along to where I was standing and asked if I could make her out. I told him she appeared to be either a British or Jap tramp, and handed him the binoculars so that he could have a look. After studying her for a while he said, "By God, Captain, I don't know her nationality, but she carries the largest crew I have ever seen." I snatched the glasses out of his hand and had a look. Sure enough, by this time the rails both forward and aft were black with men in the regulation man-of-war jumpers. Even at this time I did not think she was a German, but possibly a British armed merchantman, or a British converted auxiliary cruiser, sent from Australia to some of the South Sea islands for patrol duties. However, she soon showed her true colours.
Suddenly she changed her course, heading to pass directly under my stern. At this moment she broke out the German Imperial Navy Ensign at her jackstaff aft and at her signal yard amidships she showed the letters G.T.E., which interpreted from the International Signal Code means "Heave to and I will send a boat on board." After giving me time to read this signal, possibly two minutes, the steamer dropped her bulwarks forward, uncovering her guns, and fired a shot across the Beluga's bow. This dispelled any lingering doubt I had in my mind as to what was wanted, and it didn't take us long to clew up our light sails and throw the main yard about.
It was only then that I actually realised that my little vessel had been stopped by a German raider in the South Pacific Ocean almost fifteen thousand miles from the war zone. I stepped to the forward end of the quarterdeck and looked down at the crew on the main deck to see how they seemed to be taking it. These Scandinavian sailor men were standing on the waist, smoking their pipes and discussing the appearance of the steamer, just as if to be captured by an enemy's raider were an every-day occurrence. For myself, I knew that this day marked a crisis in the lives of any of us that were American or British born, and as for my wife and child—God, the thought was like a stab in the heart and seemed to leave me numb and cold. In a moment there flashed through my mind all the accounts I had read in the papers of the German atrocities towards women and children in Belgium and barbarisms practised along the Russian front, and the thought of my wife and child being at the mercy of these people nearly drove me crazy.
On walking aft I saw my wife leaning up against the wheelhouse, her face absolutely bloodless and a look of horror in her eyes that fairly chilled my blood. God! For months after I could see this expression in her eyes every time I closed my eyes. Even now, when I think of it, it makes me feel cold all over. When she saw me she came over and took my hand in hers, looking all the time into my eyes and not saying a word. We stood there for what seemed a century. Presently I called Juanita to us and the three of us went down below to the cabin. We sat on the settee, never saying a word, and poor little Nita started to sob, feeling something sinister in the air, which she did not understand. In a minute the mate came to the cabin skylight and sang out that the launch would be alongside in a minute. I answered "All right." My wife got up and walked over to the bed and took one of my revolvers (I had two) from under the mattress and handed it to me.
Suddenly she threw both her arms around my neck and drew my head into such a position that she could look into my eyes, and said, "Stanley, I want you to promise me that they will never get Juanita." I threw both my arms round her, hugging her tight to myself, and said, "Mamie, I promise; but you must leave it to me." And with a sob I left her and started on deck. When passing through the wheelhouse, I stopped for a moment to pull myself together. On going on deck I saw a small motor launch just arriving alongside, crowded with German bluejackets, armed to the teeth. A moment more, and a young lieutenant sprang onto the deck and came aft to the quarterdeck where I was standing. Coming to a stand in front of me he saluted and asked in excellent English, with an American accent, "Are you the captain of this vessel?" I answered, "Yes." "Where are you from?" was his next question. I told him San Francisco to Sydney, Australia, fifty-two days out. "Captain," he said, "I take charge of your vessel in the name of the German Imperial Navy." He gave an order in German and two German sailors sprang to the flag halyards and hauled down the Stars and Stripes and ran up the German Ensign. They carefully saved the American flag and the Company's burgee and took them aboard the Wolf afterwards as trophies. Our crew meantime had been lined up and searched for weapons. Among the things the boarding crew brought on board was a black case containing twenty pairs of handcuffs and three large bombs to blow the vessel to pieces with. They didn't need the handcuffs, however.
After the lieutenant had gone through the ship's papers and found out all particulars regarding the Beluga's cargo, he had his signal men wigwag the information to the Commander of the Wolf, which was standing by. The Commander, on finding out that I had a cargo of benzine, decided not to sink the vessel immediately, but to take on board some three hundred cases for use in their hydroplane, as their supply was getting low.
THE GERMAN AUXILIARY CRUISER, RAIDER AND MINE LAYER "WOLF" LEAVING KIEL ON HER FIFTEEN-MONTH CRUISE, NOVEMBER 21ST, 1916
In a short while we received instructions from the Wolf to proceed due east for sixty miles and wait there for them. The Wolf then left us, going off at right angles. I learned from some of the German sailors that there was a large steamer approaching and that the Wolf would probably run along parallel with her during the night and capture her in the morning. About nine-thirty that night this steamer passed us about a mile and a half off, heading to the southward and westward.
She was apparently a large steamer of about seven or eight thousand tons, heavily loaded. She resembled in appearance the type of vessel used on the Pacific Coast as an oil tanker, having the high forecastle head, long bunk deck amidships, and her engines and stack away aft; she was probably a freighter of this description belonging to New Zealand, bound from San Francisco to Australia. When she came abreast of us she signalled by Morse Code, asking what vessel we were; but the German prize crew took good care that none of us could answer or make any signals of any kind. I can use both Continental and Morse and had a signal lamp on board, so that if I had had an opportunity I could have warned this steamer that there was a raider about.
One of the first official acts by Lieutenant Zelasko after taking charge of my vessel was to call the cook up on the quarterdeck where he was standing and give him instructions to cook a good large meal for his men, and not to forget to have plenty of white bread. To assist him in preparing this meal for the unwelcome addition to our family, he assigned one of his men as an assistant in the kitchen.
In the meantime the balance of his crew were searching the vessel and making an itemized list of everything that they thought would be worth transferring to the Wolf. I had a chance to look over this list later on and was surprised to find how complete and businesslike it was. It gave the name of the article, the amount, where located, and a remark as to how best to remove it, whether in the original package, to be repacked, or carried in bulk in large canvas sacks, furnished by the Wolf for that purpose. This is only one incident showing the method and thoroughness with which even the minor details of their business were carried out.
During the evening I had a chance to get acquainted with Lieutenant Zelasko, the prize officer, and found him a very decent chap indeed. He, and all the rest of the Wolf's officers, excepting the Commander and the Artillery Lieutenant, were members of the Imperial Marine, or Naval Reserve, men that in peace time commanded and served as officers in the merchant service, like myself. In fact, I found that Lieutenant Zelasko had served part of his time as able-bodied seaman on the American ship Roanoke, a vessel that I had been in some years before. He had the second class Iron Cross which he had won at Antwerp.
Lieutenant Zelasko assured me on his word of honour that my family would receive nothing but the best of care possible under the circumstances on board the Wolf. In fact, after finding out that the Wolf was manned by ex-merchant marine officers and men, my fears for the safety of my wife and little girl subsided greatly. My wife herself cheered up a great deal after hearing this, thinking that people from our own walk of life could not be as barbarous as we had been led to believe.
Early in the morning of the tenth we arrived at the position where we were to wait for the Wolf. Here we hove to, and the prize crew, assisted by my sailors, who were forced to do all the work pertaining to the handling of the ship, took off the hatches and took on deck three hundred cases of benzine, ready to be transported to the Wolf when she showed up. During all this time there were always five or six guards or sentries posted at various positions around the ship, and also the balance of the prize crew always wore their side arms, whether they were working or not.
The navigating officer of Zelasko's prize crew and the bo'swain were both American navigators, one having been, prior to the war, master of a sailing vessel plying on the Atlantic Coast, and the other a Chief Mate, also in sail, on the Atlantic. At the outbreak of the war both resigned their positions and went home to lend Kaiser Bill a hand. These fellows received eighteen marks per month and have a rating of only "over matrosa," or just one step higher than that of common sailor. Several months later, after we had got better acquainted, I asked this ex-American skipper if he did not think it rather a scurvy trick to sail as Master on American ships during peace times and as soon as war was declared to leave America and help sink the very class of ships that he had hitherto made his living on. He replied by saying that at the time he resigned and went home to enlist America was not in the war, but even had she been, he would have gone just the same. From conversations I had with other ex-American seamen, I am led to believe that at the outbreak of hostilities the German Consuls at the port where their vessels hailed from ordered these men to resign and go home to the Fatherland. I also believe that their fare and expenses were paid. There are many, many cases similar to this, and I believe it would be a good thing for the American shipowners to remember when employing officers and captains to man their vessels after the war is over.
The German prize crew made a great fuss over Juanita, she being quite a novelty to them, and I am sure that she had the time of her life. Nobody on board the Wolf had seen a woman or a child for nearly nine months. My wife and little girl were the first woman and child they had taken prisoner.
On July 11th, early in the morning, the Wolf picked us up again. It seems that the steamer we saw got away from them. The Wolf put four large life-boats on the water and took off some three hundred cases of benzine and all the provisions and ship's stores we had on board the Beluga.
When the vessel was taken charge of by the German prize officer, he told me that I would be allowed to take only a few absolute necessities aboard the Wolf when I was transferred; but later, on the 11th, when the Wolf picked us up, Commander Nerger sent over word that I was to be allowed to take everything I wanted. Unfortunately the permission came almost too late, because by this time the German crew had ransacked my quarters very thoroughly and many articles that I would have taken with me for the comfort of my family were gone. Weeks later some of these were recovered. For instance, I had a pair of rubber-soled, leather-topped yachting shoes. Some weeks after joining the Wolf I noticed a man with these shoes on his feet. I called the attention of one of the officers to it and told him that they were formerly my property. The following morning those shoes were just outside my stateroom door, nicely polished.
Among the things I took on the Wolf was the wife's sewing machine, which proved of great value later on, as she had to make under and over garments for both herself and Nita. My nautical instruments, books and charts were taken from me, but I was told that they would be returned to me on my arrival in Germany.
At 1:20 we got into the boats and said a last farewell to the poor little Beluga, and she did look little in comparison with this big black brute of a raider. As we were being rowed over, the Wolf's rails were lined with grinning faces, and not one of them that I could see had the least trace of sympathy. Not that I wanted sympathy for myself, but it seemed strange to me, at the time, that out of over three hundred German sailors and officers there was not one whose face showed any sympathy for the position a woman and little child were in.
We climbed on board by means of a Jacob's ladder, myself first with Nita on my back, and my wife next. Many offered to lend her a hand, but she managed to make it without any help. There was a certain satisfaction in this, as afterwards I found out that the Germans anticipated a lot of trouble in getting her aboard, as there was quite a bit of sea running.
On arriving on deck we were met by the Chief Officer, Captain Schmell, whose first words were, "Tell your wife and little girl that they have nothing to fear, that we are not the Huns you probably think we are." He took us aft under the poop and showed us an ex-storeroom which some men were cleaning out for our use. This room was in the centre of the prisoners' quarters and had absolutely no ventilation, and there were Negroes, Indians and various other nationalities passing up and down to the hell hole, before the door, in various stages of décolleté, to say the least. The Chief told me that we three could have this room together, or my wife and child could have a more comfortable room on the berth deck amidships, but that I would have to remain down below and that I would be allowed to visit my family two hours daily. My wife would not hear of this latter arrangement, saying that we would live in a pig-sty together rather than be separated. Just then Commander Nerger came along and spoke to us, saying that he was very sorry to find that the Beluga had a woman and child on board, and had he known that such was the case he would have passed right on; but that once he had shown himself to be a raider, to protect himself he would have to keep us prisoners until such time when he could land us at a place where it would not jeopardise the safety of his vessel or crew; and that in the meantime he would make us as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. He then gave orders that we three should be given one of the deck officers' staterooms on the berth deck and that we were to be given the freedom on the side our room was on, and that as long as I paid attention to my own business only and did not talk to any of the sailors, I was to continue to enjoy this privilege; but just as soon as I gave them cause to believe that I was trying to gather information, I was to be sent down into the hell-hole aft—as the prisoners called their well-named quarters. Needless to say, I gladly agreed to his proposition, knowing myself to be lucky not to be separated from my family. At 4:30 P.M. a man (who was afterwards my orderly) came to our room with cotton batting to put in our ears, as they were going to sink the Beluga by gun fire. I was granted permission to go onto the boat deck and watch. They fired nineteen shots at her with the six-inch gun forward, and the nineteenth shell hit her amidships. The other eighteen were clean misses—rotten shooting, as the target was only two and a half miles off. Beluga burst into flames and immediately when she caught fire the benzine exploded, making one of the most wonderful sights I have ever seen. The sea for miles around us was covered with burning petrol, the weather was almost calm, and occasionally a "cat's-paw" of wind would come along and cause this flaming field of oil to run in various directions, opening a path of black water through a sea of flames. As soon as this "cat's-paw" of wind was over the flames would run together again. When the spars fell out of the ship the splash was not of water but a veritable cataract of flames. Even the Germans were impressed by the picture of three square miles of burning sea, flames leaping thirty feet high and raging for hours. God! It was a wonderful thing. In fact, the sight was so great that I did not realise for some minutes that it was my own little home that was going up in flames. My wife could not, of course, stand this sight, and had remained in her room.
On account of there being no place ready for us to sleep, we were given temporary quarters in the forward end of the deckhouse, immediately over the pump room on the main deck. There was only one very narrow bunk here, possibly eighteen inches wide, which my wife and Nita occupied. For myself I picked out a nice soft iron plate on the floor and slept on that. The only means of ventilation here was a square hole in the roof or ceiling, probably eight inches square. There was, I believe, some kind of ventilator attached to this opening outside. There was an iron-bound rule enforced at all times on the Wolf, that no light from any source should be visible on the deck. All doors were fitted with a patent mechanism so that when the door was opened the electric light current was broken and consequently the light went out. Immediately on closing the door the light would come on again. This made it necessary to sit in the dark if we wanted to have either the port hole or door open for fresh air, and if the door was closed, in a very short time the air became actually suffocating. On several occasions the temperature, with the door and port hole open, was 104° F. at night, so it can be imagined just how hot it was when the door had been closed for ten or twenty minutes. The first night none of us slept a wink, owing to the excitement of the day and the incessant hammering and knocking of the air pumps and ice-making machines immediately under our feet. This made the fourth night since we had been captured that my wife did not get a wink of sleep. Fearing complications from this loss of sleep, I called on the German doctor and finally made him understand the situation. He gave me a powder for her and asked if he should visit her. Thinking possibly that under the circumstances the near approach of a German, even a doctor, would do more harm than good, I told him I did not think it necessary.
Doctor Hausfelt, the senior surgeon of the Wolf, prior to the outbreak of the war, was a specialist in women's nervous diseases and was the head of a clinic at the Hanover University. The doctor spoke French and Italian fluently but could not speak the English language, although he read it very well. He insisted that we be moved the following morning further down the deck, to a room similar to the one we were in, but much quieter. In reality, although quieter, this room was hotter than the one forward. The bunks, of which there were two, one for the wife and one for Nita, were fastened to the iron engine room bulkhead, and the mattresses that lay up against this wall absorbed a great deal of this heat, making them very uncomfortable. I slept on the floor, which was concrete laid over the iron deck, and although very hard was really cooler, by a good deal, than the bunks.
Early in the morning after making this change I had to go down to the Antiseptic Department and have my trunks very minutely searched and my clothes disinfected. In fact, I had to appeal to the Second Doctor to escape being run through the dis-lousing plant. Here anything that proved of interest to the prisoner officer was taken away from me, with the promise that it would be returned later. My books, letters and paper clippings were religiously read and returned. I had a 3A Eastman Kodak which they seized, and imagine my surprise some days later when a roll of films—half of which had been exposed by me—was handed to me by the officer in charge of the photographic department. They had taken this roll of films out of my camera and developed them, just for curiosity, I suppose.
From here I was taken to the Recording Lieutenant's office and put through a rigid examination, being asked innumerable questions regarding my movements in the past five years, also questions regarding my parents' origin, occupation and present standing. All this fuss because one of the prize crew had found in my quarters a pamphlet giving information regarding the United States Naval Reserve requirements. I thought I had got rid of all this junk, but evidently I must have overlooked something.
My officers and sailors were taken to the regular prisoners' quarters aft, and I was not allowed to see or speak to them.
Now comes what I consider the most awful period of my experience. My wife, who is naturally of a highly strung and courageous disposition, broke down under the preceding five days' strain and loss of sleep. Luckily Doctor Hausfelt, the Wolf's senior surgeon, had been in private life a woman's specialist, and owing to his skill and untiring services my wife pulled through. She lay in her berth, packed in ice, for three weeks, absolutely delirious. Owing to the experience I had undergone during the past few days my own nerves were all ragged and upset; and the continual raving and shrieking of my wife, who imagined herself undergoing the most awful torture, drove me nearly crazy. Some days and nights seemed never to come to an end. During this time, on July 17th, to be exact, Wolf captured and set on fire the American schooner Encore, Captain Oleson, bound from Columbia River to Australia with a cargo of lumber, but owing to my state of mind I remember it only as an incident; it seemed trivial to me at the time.
During all this time my wife had been gradually sinking until she had come to the place where she either had to make a turn for the better or pass into the Great Beyond.
Commander Nerger, at the doctor's request, during this crisis, gave orders that all traffic on our side of the berth deck should stop, and guards were placed at each end to see that his orders were carried out. On the night of August 2nd Doctor Hausfelt told me that, barring accident, my wife would recover. I have often wondered whether a physician realises just what it means to an anxious husband when he tells him, "The crisis is past and your wife will recover." I know they were the most welcome words I had ever heard! During all this time I never gave a thought as to where we were going or how we were going to get there. I didn't give a damn what happened, only that my wife pulled through.
However, after my wife had passed the critical point and commenced to get better, a load seemed to be lifted off my shoulders, and the mere fact of being a prisoner on board a German raider seemed of no consequence. I then commenced to take an interest in things around me. My continual silence, with nobody to talk to, and the long periods of darkness, from 7:10 P.M. to 6:30 A.M., it being winter in the South Pacific, grew very irksome. On account of the extreme heat in the cabin when the door was closed and the light on, I was unable to sit inside and read, so the only thing left was to sit outside my door on the deck and think, and God knows I didn't have many very agreeable things to think about. At this time my wife was still too weak to talk, and anyway I didn't want to get her asking questions, thinking it would only make her worry, which I knew was not good for her. My days were usually taken up in washing clothes and nursing the wife. I never knew there were so many clothes in the world, and to think that they came from one sick wife and a perfectly healthy six-year old kiddie! I, like a darn fool, kept putting on clean white frocks and all the other white fixings that go with it. When the Missis got on the job again, Miss Juanita got a pair of overalls on week days and a dress on Sundays, all this going to prove that as a nurse maid I was a fizzle. I came a Steve Brodie on the wife's hair also, letting it get into such a mess that I couldn't comb the rats' nests out of it and had to cut the whole business off short. However, this didn't make much difference, as it all came out itself anyway.
At all times on the Wolf the fresh water situation was of great importance, as we were on a strict allowance of drinking water, which they condensed and purified themselves. We were also allowed a minute quantity of semi-condensed water for washing purposes. I used to save up for several days and get enough for a bath, all of us using the same water. After bathing, this water was used to wash clothes in. On other mornings we had to be content with a salt water bath, which is very refreshing but has little cleansing quality. Every effort was made to catch all the rain water possible, and then everybody had the big wash. During a heavy rain it was customary for all hands to strip and stand out in the rain and have a good rain water bath. It was quite odd to see from one hundred and fifty to three hundred men taking their bath in this manner. It makes one think of the Garden of Eden before Eve showed on the job.
I used to look forward to the evening when the prize officer, Lieutenant Zelasko, used to come to my quarters and talk for half an hour. His talk usually was of the war, and it was interesting to get the German view of it. Of course, from their viewpoint "poor Germany" was the defendant, and they figure they are fighting to protect their homes and not in a war of conquest.
Many of the crew of the Wolf had seen service on the various fronts and in Belgium and had some very interesting experiences to tell. These stories were always from the German viewpoint. One chap in particular had a unique and unenviable experience, having been wounded in six places at six different times. He was shot once through the shoulder on the Russian front. On two occasions, while on service in France, he was shot, once through the arm and on another occasion through the leg. At the storming of Antwerp he was wounded on the head by a flying piece of shell, and later on, while trying to storm a bridge, he was bayoneted. While serving as a member of the prize crew on the S.S. Melunga, after her capture by the Wolf, he lost an eye, while knocking off the head of a beer bottle, a piece of the glass striking him in the eye. The bottle of beer was "Gambe Carlsburger," a Danish beer, and as this accident happened on an Australian steamer in the Indian Ocean, I don't know just exactly who should get the credit for this, although I think that Denmark should be credited with an asset.
One of the officers, a lieutenant, was in the sailors' foot regiment the first time the Germans entered Antwerp, and told of the civil populace throwing large rocks, flat irons and cooking utensils down on the soldiers' heads while they were marching into the town, and spoke as if this was a grave breach of the Marquis of Queensbury's rules as to how to conduct a war. After many of the brave Teuton soldiers had been wounded in this undignified and unwarlike manner, they withdrew and the artillery bombardment followed. From other sources I have heard that this regiment marched up the street taking pot shots at anybody, male or female, who happened to look out of a window or door. I judged from this man's conversation that this sailor regiment shipped to stop bullets and not flat irons and other nameless weapons.
One afternoon I asked Commander Nerger for permission to talk to some of the men, saying it was not healthy for a man to sit around all day and not say a word to anybody. This he granted, so after that I could hold short conversations with a good many members of the crew, and in a short time had practically the run of the ship. It was absolutely forbidden, however, for me to talk to any of the other prisoners who had been on board the Wolf for a long time and knew of its various mine-laying activities.
Our meals were served in our cabin, on dishes taken from the Beluga; in fact, for the first month a good deal of our food was Beluga's food. Little delicacies that I had bought for our own use, such as potted meats, jellies, crackers and a case of wine, were reserved for our own use by the purser of the Wolf at Commander Nerger's suggestion. One of the most valuable foods to us, taken from the Beluga and reserved for our use, was four cases of canned milk of the liquid variety, which proved very beneficial to the wife during her sickness, and also was greatly appreciated by Nita. The doctor, thinking probably that the black bread would prove too strong for Nita's stomach, endeavoured to have the ship's baker make a small quantity of white bread for her, but unfortunately the baker could not make a success of the wheat bread and the effort was given up. As far as I could see, this black bread, while being far from palatable, was very wholesome and nourishing.
I should like to state here that my family and myself were treated with the utmost courtesy and consideration by the Commander himself and his officers while we were prisoners. I am not speaking for the poor devils down below aft, nor of our treatment while under the charge of Lieutenant Rose on the Jap prize ship Hitachi Maru, or later on the Spanish prize Igotz Mendi, which was decidedly different.
On the Wolf our meals were regular and methodically worked out, so that at the end of each day a person had received just so much rationed nourishment. Myself and family received the same food as that served in the Officers' mess. Our breakfast usually consisted of "near" coffee, syrup or treacle and three slices of black bread. I have seen the cook's department roasting this alleged "coffee," and believe it to be nothing more nor less than wheat roasted until it is scorched or burnt, the larger kernels being saved for this purpose. Some years ago I was on a sailing vessel and the supply of coffee gave out. The cook used to take burnt bread and make a substitute for coffee from it that was identical in taste with this coffee on the Wolf.
Dinner at midday consisted of a soup, a meat-ball composed of canned beef ground fine and mixed with bread crumbs, plenty of preserved peas and carrots. Monday, Wednesday and Friday we had a dessert, usually stewed prunes or a corn-starch mixture. For supper we had tea, bread, and sardine paste, or pickled, cold corned beef. Quite often rice in various disguises was given instead of the "bully beef" at noon. But on Sunday—oh, joy!! A regular, honest-to-Grandma dinner, consisting of asparagus soup, real fresh meat from the refrigerator, evaporated potatoes, a vegetable, prunes and a sweet. This for a regular menu, day in and day out, doesn't look very good, but considering that we were prisoners I don't believe we had any cause to complain. The food we received was the same as that which the Commander and deck officers had, and superior to that of the warrant officers and seamen.
SHOWING "MANNLICHER" TYPE TORPEDO TUBE, PORTSIDE FORWARD ON "WOLF".
FINAL DIVE OF JAPANESE STEAMER "HITACHI MARU." 6558 GROSS TONS. CAPT. KOKMOA. CAPTURED SEPTEMBER 26TH OFF MALDIVA ISLANDS, INDIAN OCEAN. SUNK BY BOMBS NOVEMBER 7TH.
The German auxiliary cruiser and minelayer Wolf was formerly a freighter belonging to the Hansa Line, a subsidiary of the Hamburg-American Line; of 6,728 gross tons; single screw, one funnel; two well decks, two telescoping masts, equipped with wireless, double bridge; two Sampson posts on poop and four sets of cargo booms. On the poop rigged from the Sampson posts were two faked cargo booms whose real purpose was to disguise a six-inch gun mounted there. On her boat deck she showed three life-boats, working boats from each side. The vessel was painted all black and had no particular distinguishing marks.
Wolf carried two six-inch ordinary guns, one mounted forward under the forecastle head and the other on top of the poop; four 4.7 ordinaries, two forward and two aft mounted on the well deck. The bulwark or rails at these guns, as at the six-inch forward gun, were fitted with hinges and spring catches, so that by one blow of a hammer they dropped down, giving the guns ample room for action. Under ordinary circumstances nothing of these guns could be seen above the rail. She was further armed with four torpedo tubes, two forward and two aft, on the well decks. The torpedoes forward were "Red Heads" and especially effective for short distances, while those aft were "Mannlichers" and used for long distance work. She also had four machine guns mounted, two on each end of the boat deck in such a manner that they could control the decks and the prisoners' quarters aft.
On leaving Kiel Wolf had a crew of three hundred and seventy-five men, including one Commander and Corvette Captain, one Lieutenant Commander, three senior and six junior Lieutenants, two Surgeons and twelve Warrant Officers, including gun mechanics, torpedo mechanics, mine experts, navigating sub-lieutenants and boatswains. She had a wireless crew of seven men, including one wireless expert. The signal corps consisted of six signal men in charge of a code expert, who had had several years of training at a school in deciphering various codes. I am led to believe from what I saw that this man was able to decipher naval and private codes used in the South Pacific, but was unable to handle codes used in the North Atlantic.
On leaving Kiel Wolf had on board five hundred mines, seventy-five hundred tons of Westphalian coal, three thousand tons of water, and twenty-five hundred tons of food and ammunition. This heavy cargo over-loaded the Wolf. I understand she was drawing over two feet more than her normal loaded draft when she left Kiel, and on getting safely through the blockade she encountered a very heavy series of gales in the North Atlantic, causing the vessel to labour heavily. This labouring strained her hull and topside and she dropped a good many rivets. As soon as she ran out of this bad weather repairs were made and all her topsides double riveted. Something like nine thousand rivets were driven, this work being done by her crew as the Wolf proceeded down the Atlantic. Among her mechanics she seemed to have representatives from almost every trade, and apparently an inexhaustible supply of materials for making repairs or new additions to her equipment.
Wolf was equipped with a triple expansion engine and three boilers and one auxiliary donkey boiler. Her power plant was unique in that she could steam seven knots per hour on a consumption of eighteen tons of coal per diem, and eleven and a half knots per hour, her maximum, on twenty-eight tons of coal per diem. I have heard it said that she had one of the most efficient power plants out of Europe, having a fuel consumption of 1.2 per I.H.P. Wolf was further equipped with a powerful searchlight, situated abaft the bridge, on a tower that could be raised or lowered at will. When not in use this light could not be seen above the top of the house. Wolf sailed from Kiel on November 21, 1916.
The Commander of the Wolf, Corvette Captain Nerger, of the Imperial German Navy, was a man of probably thirty-five years of age, of moderate height and slim build. He was immaculate in all things pertaining to his person, and was a strict disciplinarian. I was in Commander Nerger's quarters one day. I had visited him to thank him for the courtesy he had extended to my family and to myself, and found him a very agreeable man to talk to; a thorough gentleman and apparently anxious to do anything he could to make our lot bearable. In talking with him I found nothing to denote the arrogant Prussianism which is said to predominate in the higher branches of the German Navy.
And yet Commander Nerger was a man "all alone." He kept absolutely to himself; took no man into his confidence. No man ever knew an hour ahead what his plans or the vessel's plans were. He was the only one who knew when we started for home. On the fifteen months' cruise of the Wolf Nerger was in full charge and ran his vessel as a "one man ship." He lived in comfortable quarters on the boat deck, just under the bridge, and had his meals served in his private dining room. In the five months I was on the Wolf I do not think I saw him on the berth deck more than a dozen times, and then only on an inspection trip of some kind. He always had the appearance of having just stepped out of a bandbox, he was so immaculate in his dress. I was told by his officers that Nerger never gets excited; always remains cool under all circumstances. They tell a story of his being in command of a light cruiser in the battle off the Dogger Banks, and throughout this engagement he calmly passed back and forth on the bridge, with a cigar in his mouth, giving his orders as calmly as if at some gun practice or manœuvres. His officers and men all respected him, which to my mind is a good enough recommendation.
One of the peculiarities of the Wolf's cruise was that nobody, excepting the Commander, knew where she was going, when she was going, and how long she was to be away. The majority of the officers, thinking she would probably try to duplicate the raider Moewe's operations, took only enough clothes to last them about three months, and only augmented their supply from the various vessels captured. From one of the captured steamers they got several rolls or bolts of heavy dress goods, but unfortunately for them, they didn't have enough cotton thread to make them up into wearing apparel, although some of them, in more need than the rest, sewed their new suits with ordinary sail twine, similar to that which the grocer uses to tie up his parcels. The cloth was all dark goods, and it looked odd to see the coarse white string stitches against the dark background. Many of the suits were very well cut and fitted in the regular naval style.
The Wolf's method of getting away from Kiel was unique. Each day about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, she would up anchor and steam out of Kiel harbour, manœuvring outside and having gun practice, returning each night to anchor in the harbour. This procedure was kept up for over three weeks, until finally one night the Wolf failed to return. During these three weeks nobody was allowed ashore or to hold any communication with the shore. Even the German naval authorities did not know the date she was to sail, until she had gone. All this goes to prove that the German Naval Department had considerable respect for the Allied Intelligence Department.
On leaving Kiel the Wolf went through what is known as the "Big Belt," a passage through Denmark into the Kattegat, from there along the Danish coast across the Norwegian coast, and out to the Atlantic between the Farrows and Iceland. On returning to Germany she merely retraced her course, the only difference being that she passed through the "Little Belt," a very narrow piece of water, one-half of which is German territorial water and the other half Danish.
From where I used to sit on deck outside my quarters I could see the other prisoners aft on the poop, at that time some two hundred of them. Over half of them had no shoes, socks or overshirts, and fully one-fifth of them wore no undershirt. I asked a couple of them why they did not wear a shirt in that blazing tropical sun. They told me that they had only one shirt apiece and that the sweat rotted them so fast, that they were going without shirts at present and saving them till the weather got cold. Three times a day each squad flunkey (a squad consisted of fourteen prisoners) would troop up to the galley amidships and get their rations for the meal—a kettle of alleged tea or coffee, black bread, and at noon a kettle of goulash, resembling a soft stew. I had been on board the Wolf for some time before I finally got the chance to sneak down below aft and see what the prisoners' quarters were like and have a talk with some of the men.
The prisoners' quarters on the Wolf were located aft in the cargo hold, and had their only entrance under the poop, on the main deck. The quarters themselves were reached by means of a narrow ladder only, and this ladder was built in such a manner that not more than two persons could pass up or down at the same time, or one person up and one down simultaneously, thereby guarding against a concerted rush in event of an escape being planned.
Over the entrance or hole in the deck leading to these stairs was slung a heavy iron hatch or cover, in such a manner that it could be dropped into place instantaneously by one of the guards. This hatch would effectually close the only exit from the quarters where there were over two hundred prisoners confined. Also the closing of this hatch would cut off nearly one-half the air supply; during the times when this hatch was closed, when the Wolf was passing through some danger, the suffering in the hold from lack of air was often intense. Even under normal conditions the air supply was inadequate. It was probably 8:30 P.M. when I was there, and I would judge the temperature to have been between 118 and 120 degrees Fahrenheit, and the reek of feet, breath and bodies was something awful. On this particular night, I should judge from one-quarter to three-eighths of an inch of sweat was on the floor, and when the vessel rolled there would be a thin scum of liquid running from side to side. The walls and ceiling were literally running water, which was caused by moisture drawn from the bodies of the men by the hot iron sides of the ship and the deck overhead. Combine stale tobacco smoke with this atmosphere, and it was a wonder to me that a human being could exist in it.
At this time everybody was herded into the one compartment—captains, mates, engineers, firemen, sailors, cooks and flunkies, all together—white men, niggers, Turks, Greeks and Japanese. At night everybody slept in hammocks and during the day these hammocks were "made up" and piled away in one corner, thus leaving enough room for several rough plank tables and benches to be set up. There were no lockers or any compartments where a man could put his spare clothing or shaving gear, therefore no man's gear was safe from theft. A man who didn't have a shirt would steal one from a man who had two; this made it impossible for a man to have any more clothes than just what he stood in. Later on many of the men were given empty cases or boxes and fixed them up to keep their spare gear in.
The sanitary arrangements at this time were very poor, there being only three toilets for all hands. Certain squads of men would take turns in keeping these quarters clean, the whole place being thoroughly scrubbed out three times a week. I mean thoroughly in the full sense of the word. Everything moveable, excepting the clothing boxes, was taken on deck, then the room scrubbed with heavy brushes and sand. Next the tables and benches were scoured with sand and canvas, the hammocks scrubbed and the various tin dishes used for food were scoured bright. After everything was dry it was put back in place and the prisoner officer made an inspection. It was very seldom that he found anything to complain of, as the men seemed to welcome this house-cleaning as it gave them something to do to occupy their time. Reading material was very scarce, so the time passed very slowly.
There was supposed to be a regular daily routine; but owing to the many interruptions, such as gun practice, fire drill, boarding drill and drills with small arms, this routine was not always carried out. At 5:30 A.M. all the prisoners were waked up and by six o'clock all the hammocks were made up and stowed away. Then the tables were set up in place and the table laid for breakfast. At seven o'clock the squad flunkies would get their gear ready, and promptly at 7:20 breakfast would be ready. Immediately after breakfast the dishes were cleaned and the quarters given their regular daily clean up. Usually during the forenoon, after their work was done, the prisoners were allowed to go up on deck and enjoy the fresh air. Dinner at 12:30 noon, coffee at 3:30 P.M., and supper at 6:30. Very seldom was anybody allowed on deck after coffee. At 8:00 P.M. all lights were extinguished excepting three, one over the steps at the exit and two at the back of the quarters.
The distribution of the fresh water was also very poor. Each prisoner was allowed half a gallon per day for washing, drinking and bathing purposes. This amount, properly conserved, will answer the purpose, but unfortunately the method of distribution was so poor that not all got their regular allowance; and the loss of this water caused the unfortunate ones great inconvenience, especially during the time that the Wolf was in the tropics. Many of the men used tea to brush their teeth in; and I have heard of cases where tea had been used for shaving purposes, but imagine these cases to be rare.
While there, a Captain of a big British oil tank steamer that had been captured and sunk told me the following piece of history. I afterwards verified this and can vouch for its truth. While the Wolf was lying at Sunday Island undergoing repairs to her boilers, the prisoners were furnished with fish hooks and line and a couple of jolly boats and allowed to row into the rocks and catch fish. Each boat, of course, was in charge of an armed sentry. After fishing they would return to the Wolf each night. On the night before the Wolf was to sail two men, the chief mate and first assistant engineer of the S.S. Turitella, dropped overboard and swam for the shore. Before leaving the vessel these men had secreted on their persons a supply of fish hooks and lines, a small hunter's hatchet, two large sheath knives each, matches and a good supply of tobacco. The matches and tobacco were securely wrapped in waterproof oilcloth. Just at dusk, as the prisoners were being ordered below, these two men slipped over the side, sliding down a rope into the water. They then swam under the stern and climbed up on the rudder and sat there in such a manner that they could not be seen from on deck. A confederate in the meantime had taken care of the line hanging over the side. About nine o'clock, when it was good and dark, they again slipped into the water and swam for the shore some half a mile distant. There is a strong current setting parallel with the shore in this particular locality and, as the water is infested with sharks, the betting among the men was two to one that neither of them would make it.
Later on, from some of the officers that had been on shore at Sunday Island, I found out there had formerly been a family living there, but at this particular time they were away on a visit, probably to New Zealand, as they had left their house fully furnished and with quite a supply of provisions on hand. Everything indicated that they intended returning at a later date. A calendar hanging on the wall indicated that this family had left there between April 17th and 23d. When the loss of the prisoners was finally discovered there was a great rumpus, and as a punishment all the prisoners were kept below for twenty-eight days, being allowed on deck for only one hour each day, weather permitting, for exercise. The British captain said that those were the most awful days he ever experienced in his life and that each day he and the rest were getting perceptibly thinner. Just about this time I got the sign from the sentry that the prisoner officer was coming and I had to beat a retreat. Afterwards I found out that it was not the prisoner officer but the mine officer, Lieutenant Dedrick, who proved to be a humane officer and a champion of the prisoners. Dedrick came down below into the hell hole and got one good lungful of the rotten atmosphere and went immediately to the Commander and reported conditions. Commander Nerger at once called both doctors and accompanied them aft on a tour of inspection. The next day everybody was chased on deck and the "Hell Hole" below was cleaned out and better ventilation arranged for; it was also painted; also the captured captains and ships' officers were given quarters to themselves, while the whites and blacks were separated. On the whole the conditions for these two hundred men were improved one hundred per cent. The prisoner officer was confined to his room for five days for allowing such conditions to exist. Nerger had inspected these quarters before, but only when the men were on deck and the place freshly cleaned out. Personally I do not think he knew how bad conditions were.
Along in the first part of January I learned by wireless that of the two men who swam for shore at Sunday Island the first assistant engineer was drowned, while the other reached shore in an exhausted condition. He and his companion while swimming ashore became separated in the dark and the mate did not know for a certainty whether his chum was taken by a shark or drowned from exhaustion. He stayed on the island for somewhat over two months, living on the provisions that were left in the house and on fruit, of which there was a great abundance. He was finally taken off by a Japanese cruiser whose attention was attracted by his signal fire, which he kept burning day and night. The cruiser finally landed him in New Zealand.
All this time we were steaming in a northerly and westerly direction. When we arrived at the southernmost end of New Guinea we stopped and lay to for a couple of days. I soon learned that we were waiting for a steamer and expected her any minute. During these days the Wolf's hydroplane would go up to reconnoitre three times a day. It would travel fifty or sixty miles on clear days, and from a height of three thousand metres it had a vision of ninety miles, so the Germans claimed. One of the German sailors told me that in another day or so we should have plenty of beer—that they had picked up a wireless message stating that the Australian steamer Matunga would soon arrive in Rabul with five hundred tons of coal and three hundred tons of foodstuffs, so many hundred cases of beer, etc., for the Government. Sure enough, on the morning of August 4th I was awakened by my orderly with the usual supply of cotton batting for our ears. Shortly thereafter there was a bang from one of the cannons and the Matunga stopped. Lieut. Rose and the prize crew went on board and took charge. In about an hour the launch came back with the Matunga's captain, Donaldson, and his officers and crew, also sixteen Australian soldiers who were en route to the Islands. Both steamers then proceeded north, arriving on August 10th at a place in northern New Guinea that we named Pirate Cove.
SHOWING 4.7 "ORDINARY" PORTSIDE GUN FORWARD ON "WOLF."
LIEUT. ROSE WITH BINOCULARS.
On the way to Pirate Cove Commander Nerger practised all kinds of naval manœuvres with the Wolf and the Matunga. At one time he would engage her in battle and finally after a fierce encounter, by superior manœuvring he would destroy her. The next time the Matunga would be an enemy's merchant vessel and the Wolf would sneak up to her, suddenly dropping her ports, and make the capture. This manœuvre was carried out quite realistically, the boarding crew supposedly meeting resistance and finally taking charge of her after a fight on deck, in which the boarding crew's bayonet drill would come in handy. At another time the Matunga would be a German cruiser and Nerger would direct her attack against the enemy. At this time he was probably anticipating being made an Admiral on his return to Germany and was getting what practice he could.
At Pirate Cove naked New Guineans, men, women and children, came out to the Wolf in thirty feet long canoes for tobacco, which was the only understandable word they could say. They offered to swap parrots, pigs, cocoanuts, sugar cane, bits of coral, woven mats of garish colours and queer pattern, showing whales, birds and primitive human figures. The Wolf's officers got first whack at the bargains and went in strong for the fancy mattings, but when they got them aboard found them full of native vermin. These souvenirs for their wives and sweethearts were promptly turned over to the antiseptic department and cleaned, for the Wolf had on board a complete dis-lousing plant through which all new prisoners were put, whether they needed it or not. The German sailors had second choice after their officers and went in strong for parrots and cocoanuts. The prisoners, who could buy tobacco at the Wolf's canteen, if they had any money, had last choice of the New Guinea merchandise. I had no money on the Beluga, having sent mine by draft to Sydney, but I had stacks of clothes, and to get a little ready "canteen" money I sold some of them, the Wolf's officers paying me $25.00 for second-hand suits and $3.00 for second-hand shoes.
The natives were cleaned out by the Wolf. Among the purchases was an alleged New Guinea pig, which had the legs and body of a deer and the head of a porker—and it had fur, too. God! I never saw anything like it. It didn't have an orthodox corkscrew tail but a compromise between a pig's and a deer's tail. The pig mascot was given the freedom of the Wolf and dashed if it didn't lick every dog on the ship. We had seven dogs on board, taken from sunken ships—dachshunds, fox terriers, all sorts—and the pugnacious deer-pig cleaned them all up. But the Germans were too much for it. After two months in German company the pig couldn't stand it any longer and, after the slaughter of the Hitachi Maru, of which it was an eyewitness, it committed suicide by leaping down an open hatch to its death fifty feet below. The Germans buried the pig at sea with military honours.
While we were lying in Pirate Cove the cargo and coal of the Matunga were transferred to the Wolf; also nine of the Matunga's passengers and the balance of her crew. Quarters were provided for these prisoners on the same deck where I was. There was a Colonel and a Major with his wife, belonging to the Australian medical corps; three Australian military captains; three civilian planters, who were en route for the plantations on the Island, and the stewardess of the Matunga. This addition of prisoners to the top side was a welcome change to myself and family, as it gave us somebody else to talk to, and I was also able to get news of the war from another source than the German. I was anxious to learn what steps America had taken or contemplated taking. To hear those Australian chaps talk you would have thought that the war was a high lark, and that just as soon as Great Britain got around to it she, ably assisted by the Australian forces, would chase Fritzy off the map.
The addition of these passengers to the top deck squad made it necessary for Commander Nerger to make certain rules and regulations to be observed regarding the distance we could go from our rooms. We were allowed a seventy-foot run-way. Also when anything was going on, such as gun practice, boarding drill, fire and boat drill, we were chased into our rooms. This caused a lot of grumbling but no doubt it was justified. I may add that there was nearly always something doing on the Wolf. They drilled and practised almost continually—practised sinking imaginary ships, indulged in "battle practice," and even practised abandoning the Wolf in boats and sinking their own ship.
While lying at Pirate Cove we had an exciting experience. It seems that some of the Germans had a suspicion that some of the prisoners were going to try to escape by swimming ashore. They doubled the guards both below and on deck and in addition had twenty-four Marines sleep on the afterdeck with their muskets alongside of them. On this particular night the German sailors had stolen a couple of cases of whiskey from the cargo of the Matunga and many of them were pretty badly intoxicated. At 11:30 P.M. one of the guards down below aft imagined that he saw someone making a sneak for the stairs leading on deck. Next moment he shouted "Help! Help!" and blazed away with his revolver in the general direction of the stairway. Naturally the prisoners sleeping on the far side of the stairs made a rush to get out of the line of fire. The guard saw this crowd rushing his way and ran on deck immediately. A general alarm was sounded and men and officers poured on deck from all directions. Just then a shoal of fish some little distance away in the water made a disturbance and the German crew, thinking that somebody was attempting to swim ashore, opened fire on the fish with two machine guns. Also everybody who had a rifle or a revolver opened fire at something. One officer, who stood in front of my room, emptied his revolver into the air, just shooting because everybody else was doing it. Meanwhile, Chief Officer Schmell and three sailors had jumped into the launch and also mistaking the shoal of fish for prisoners trying to swim ashore, made for the spot—and were enthusiastically fired upon by the German machine guns in the dark. It sure was bum team work and a miracle that Schmell and his men were not killed. The launch was punctured in several places. As soon as the big searchlight was put into commission, it became apparent that there was nobody in the water. All the prisoners were then mustered out and counted, and as there were none missing, the Germans decided that it must have been a false alarm and everybody blamed everybody else. When Schmell got back on the Wolf he was raving mad at having been fired at by the machine guns. He wasn't red, but green with anger, and he talked so fast that I couldn't make out what he said, but I heard afterwards that he wanted to court-martial everybody, including the cook. It always will remain a miracle to me that some of our own fellows weren't shot as the frenzied guard emptied his gun before running on deck.
On account of the high hills surrounding our anchorage the Wolf's wireless was not of much account, so the members of the wireless squad erected a station on the top of one of the highest hills. Here they would pick up any news that was flying around and transfer it to the Wolf by means of an ordinary flash light. This was easily readable with a pair of glasses, but unfortunately there was nothing of interest excepting the "press"; however, it gave me an insight of just how much reliance to put into the press reports that the Germans would let us see from time to time. This, of course, was all British press and reports were given as to advances and repulses on the various fronts and also the weekly sinkings. Should the Allied forces advance or the Germans lose a position, their press did not note it, but on the other hand, if the Germans had a victory or there were any political reports in their favour, the news was given us in full detail.
From one of the officers who had been ashore I learned that the native settlement, which at one time evidently had been quite large, must have been visited by some dreadful plague, as the houses in the village were deserted, not a single native living on that side of the bay. He also said that in many of the houses the skeletons of the dead still lay, some inside and some outside of the huts, leading a person to believe that this sickness struck them down suddenly and that they died nearly instantly, as on the porch of one of these huts there was a skeleton with some kind of a dish alongside of it, making it appear that death had come suddenly.
Here at Pirate Cove the doctors were greatly worried on account of fever and malaria and dosed us vigorously with quinine. Lord! I ate enough quinine to last me the rest of my life. There were no capsules on board and we had to eat the raw article, and there was no way of dodging it. Each morning and evening all hands, officers, crew and prisoners, were marched past the hospital steward's office and each was handed his little bit on a spoon, with a glass of water to wash it down. The only satisfaction I had was that it tasted just as rotten to the Germans as it did to me. Strangely my little girl did not dislike it a great deal and I was greatly pleased as I anticipated a riot when she got a taste of the first dose. My wife's share, she being still confined to her room, I used to throw overboard, giving her only an occasional small dose. The quinine used to cause a drumming in my ear and make me halfway deaf.
Undoubtedly it had the same effect on the German sailors yet they were forced to work transferring coal from one vessel to the other. They usually worked three shifts in the twenty-four hours. They would go down in the hold with nothing but a breech cloth on and when they came up they would resemble negroes and their bare bodies would be just running in sweat. At these times I used to feel sorry for them; then they would sink one of our vessels and I would wish them doomed to eternal labour of this kind.
Among the Matunga's heterogeneous cargo were two large horses and one small pony. These were taken care of by the butcher department and I suppose I ate my share. I afterwards told my wife about her eating horse flesh and nearly lost a handful of hair for my information.
On August 26th both Wolf and Matunga proceeded to sea and at 1:20 P.M. the Matunga was sunk by three bombs. From the time of the first explosion until she disappeared beneath the waves was just six and a half minutes. She sank stern first, and as she made the final dive the rush of air below decks blew out the forecastle bulkhead, making it appear as if there had been a fourth bomb concealed there.
Here I am convinced was the only time during the eight months that I was a prisoner on the Wolf that there was ever any serious thought on Nerger's part regarding landing the women, children and medical officers. Before taking the Matunga to sea to sink her, they transferred one of her large life-boats to the Wolf, also a small gasoline launch. These were hoisted on deck and placed in such a manner that they could be put overboard again easily, also they were in such a position that it interfered with the movements of the gun crew, thus proving that they were there only temporarily. One of the officers asked me if I had ever had any experience with gas engines and was familiar with this particular make. I told him I was, having owned at one time an engine of this make. After giving the officer this information he was overheard by one of the womenfolk repeating it to the Chief Officer. We top side prisoners were some worked up, believe me. We had it all "doped out" that after sinking the Matunga we should proceed off some island that was inhabited but had no wireless or cable connections, there the women, children and medicos would be put in the life-boat and I would tow them with the launch to some nearby harbour.
This would have been the logical thing to do if Commander Nerger wanted to conform to the articles of the Geneva Convention, which specifically states that medical officers in event of capture shall be set free at the first available opportunity. Nerger also told me and my wife that he would land us in some safe place at the first opportunity, provided he could do so without jeopardising his own safety. He also told the medical officers and the rest of the women the same thing. I maintain that at this time Nerger could have landed us with perfect safety to himself and his ship—as the Wolf was about to leave the Pacific Ocean, having finished her activities in that locality. At that time nobody had information regarding the Wolf's previous movements nor any knowledge of her mine-laying operations. However, at the last minute he must have concluded that this was too "humane" a procedure and ordered the boats over the side; they were fastened to the Matunga and went down with her. I claim this to have been the acme of inhumanity. He might just as well have condemned the women and children to death right there, because at that time there were ninety-nine and a half chances to a hundred that they would be either killed in action or drowned. I don't believe that there were five men in all the crew of the Wolf, officers included, who ever expected the Wolf to win safely into Germany. There is another point to consider: why did Nerger and his officers continually assure us that the womenfolk should be landed shortly? If he had told the truth like an officer and a man and said he had no intention to land us, then we would have had more respect for him and would not have suffered the bitter disappointment that we did.
A PRISONER ON A PASSENGER STEAMER
From New Guinea the Wolf steamed southwest through the Malay archipelago, then between Borneo and Java and Sumatra, thence through the Java sea; and on the night of September 6th the Wolf laid over one hundred mines across the Northwest approach to the entrance of the Singapore harbour.
Going up the Java sea, we were continually sighting vessels, and it was only the barefaced gall of the Wolf that saved her from destruction. Less than a month previous to this the Australian Government had sent wireless messages broadcast stating that there was a raider somewhere in the South Pacific or Indian Oceans, and giving a complete description of the Wolf. Yet here we were, steaming calmly along as if bound for Singapore, meeting many merchantmen, and at one time one of the officers said he could see the smoke from five torpedo boats steaming along in squadron section. When the Wolf would pass another vessel close to, she would usually have only a couple of men about the decks doing odd jobs of painting and repairing. I believe that it was the innocent appearance of the Wolf which led to her safety. She ignored all signals (which is characteristic of the merchantman).
The night before the Wolf mined Singapore harbour we had a narrow escape from being discovered. At 11:30 P.M., just as I was dozing off to sleep on my bed on the floor, I heard the call to stations and sprang up to see what it was all about. I looked out-of-doors and saw the two ship's surgeons passing aft, both with their first aid kits strapped to their waists. Slipping to the rail I saw that all four cannon were swung into position, clear for battle, and I could also see that both of the Wolf's torpedo tubes were protruding over the side. Just on the port bow was a small cruiser or battleship. From where I stood I could see her funnels and two masts, also the outline of her hull. She was travelling without lights, the same as we were.
I slipped back into my room, closed the door and switched on the light. I dressed my little girl while my wife got into her clothes. This did not take long as we always slept with our clothes in such a position that we could get into our "emergency outfit" in short order. Every moment while dressing I expected to hear and feel the crash of the Wolf's guns, but fortunately the other fellow didn't see us, and in a few minutes the signal was given to swing the guns in. The danger was past, but there was a mighty nervous crew of men on board the Wolf that night. On the other hand, it was perhaps just as well for the Japanese cruiser that he did not spot us, because the minute he had made any signal and given us any indication that he had seen us, the Wolf would have launched both torpedos and given him a broadside, and at that short range they could not have missed very well. Personally I was satisfied the way things turned out, as I did not like my chances of getting the family into a boat under the circumstances, neither did I have any wish to be present when the actual firing began. While counting my chances of getting the family safely into the boats, should an engagement ensue, I thought of just how much chance the poor devils down in the hell hole had of being saved. They would have been battened down and probably would have gone down with the vessel, should she have been sunk, without a fighting chance for their lives. Even if the German crew had released them at the last moment, what chance did they have of being saved? Under the most favourable circumstances the Wolf's equipment of life-boats and rafts was probably sufficient for only three hundred and fifty at the outside, and there was a total of about seven hundred on board. It would be only natural for the German crew to have the life-saving equipment themselves and our poor chaps would have been left to drown, there being no articles of an inflammable or floating description around her decks.
On the wall of my room was a typewritten notice over Commander Nerger's signature, stating that in event of the Wolf's engaging an enemy a boat would be lowered and the women, children and medicos would be placed in same, under my charge. This provided that there was sufficient time and the weather conditions favourable. I could imagine just about how many chances we had that there would be sufficient time to execute this manœuvre. However, this sign served the very good purpose of alleviating the women's anxieties to a certain extent. It is quite possible that this was the only reason this notice was given us. However, I am grateful for the part it played. The preceding was the tensest crisis in the Wolf's fifteen months' history. Commander Nerger sent down word to me afterwards that it was a Japanese man-of-war, and to keep the news from my wife if possible.
The next night, September 6th, the Wolf, which was primarily a minelayer and not a raider, laid ninety-eight mines at a distance of from seven and a half to ten miles off shore. The lights of Singapore were plainly visible from the port-hole. On this occasion I was locked in the room for about two hours, but it was not difficult to count the "eggs" as they were being laid, for the mines came up out of No. 3 hatch on an elevator and were conveyed aft to the "chute" on a small rail car which had a flat wheel, and I could hear it going along the deck "humpety-hump, humpety-hump." I estimated that it took about one hour and forty minutes to lay these ninety-eight mines.
From off Singapore we practically retraced our steps back through the Java sea and entered the Indian Ocean on October 9th, passing between the islands of Java and Canor. We then proceeded to the northward and westward until we arrived on the trade route running from Colombo to Delagoa Bay. Here Wolf cruised around slowly for a day or so, crossing and recrossing the route at regular intervals. While lying here waiting for the prey, the wireless man told me he could hear several cruisers working their wireless and that there was one British cruiser patrolling the Straits of Malacca, one at Bombay, two lying in the harbour of Colombo—the Venus and the Vulcan, I believe—and another at a naval station in the Mauritius Islands. All this time the bird, i.e., the Wolf's hydroplane, had been down below in the hole undergoing general repairs from an accident she had had, which nearly ended her activities and drowned both of the operators.
Some two weeks previous, while she was rising from the water and at a height of about sixty metres, something suddenly went wrong with the balancing mechanism and the plane made a dive for the sea, which she hit at a terrific speed; the back wings and the pontoons or boats were completely demolished. The mechanic and the observing lieutenant were catapulted into the sea and had much difficulty in swimming back to the wreck, which had the appearance of a gigantic bird sitting on its nose with its tail standing up in the air. It reminded me of an ostrich with its head buried in the sand. The bonnet around the engine and mechanic's seat, in all seaplanes of this description, is watertight, so that in case of an accident of this kind the weight of the engine will not cause it to sink. However, in this case, one of the struts supporting the pontoons had caused this watertight bonnet to leak and, although both operators baled for dear life, the water gained on them steadily. When the rescuing launch finally arrived alongside the machine it was just on the verge of sinking. The crew of the launch tied the machine to the launch with ropes in such a manner that it could not sink and the whole outfit was hoisted on board the Wolf. All six cylinders of the engine were cracked and the "bird" appeared a total wreck. However, the "aeroplane" squad set to work and repaired the planes and put spare cylinders on the engine; and in a few days she was ready for duty again. The crew of the plane apparently were none the worse for their mishap.
One day one of the officers told me that probably in a few days they would pick up a nice fat steamer with plenty of food on board. On the morning of October 26th, immediately after breakfast, I noticed that they were getting the "bird" on deck and assembling it. I asked one of the officers whether there was "something doing" and he said: "If we have any luck after lunch we shall have fresh meat for supper." About 11 A.M. the "bird" was finished and the engine warmed up. Suddenly somebody shouted, and everybody got his binoculars and looked astern of us, and, sure enough, a faint outline of smoke could be seen on the horizon. The hydroplane went up and in half an hour came back and reported a large steamer approaching. Commander Nerger shaped his course so as to meet this steamer but still give him the impression that we were en route from the Cape to Colombo. At 3:05 P.M. the steamer was right abreast, She was a fine big Class A Japanese passenger steamer, deeply loaded, and I could see passengers on her saloon deck. At 3:07 P.M. the Wolf broke out the Imperial Navy flag and signalled for the Hitachi Maru to stop and not use her wireless, also dropped a shot across the Hitachi's bow. When the Hitachi failed to stop, the Wolf fired another shot closer to her bow.
The Jap concluded to run for it and started in to work his wireless, also swung his ship into such a position as to bring his gun for submarine defence, 4.7 quick firer, into action. Meantime the Wolf had opened fire on her in deadly earnest. One six-inch shell from the after gun struck the Hitachi and exploded just under her gun where the gun crew was working, killing six Japs and blowing the balance into the water. I saw one Jap in particular hoisted high into the air above the smoke of the explosion, and he was spinning around like a pin-wheel. Another shot from the after gun put the gun on the Hitachi out of commission altogether, and killed another man. In the meantime from forward the Wolf had succeeded in putting a 4.5 shell through the wireless room, where the operator was working. This shell came through one side of the room, passed between the operator and his "set," cutting one of his aerial leads in two, and passed out through the opposite side of the room, decapitating a man standing outside. This shell eventually hit a ventilator shaft, ripped it to pieces and knocked a man down in the engine room so hard that he afterwards died of internal injuries. There were several more hits, one on the water line in No. 4 hatch, two more in the stern, and one in the wheelhouse on the bridge. About this time the flying machine came along and tried to drop a bomb on deck forward but missed, the bomb exploding when it hit the water just ahead.
The cannonading, while it lasted, was very severe, there being something over forty shots fired in as short a time as possible. Of these shots only nine were direct hits. I must add that the first possible twenty of these shots were directed in such a manner as to hit (if they did) the vessel in such a position as not to sink or permanently disable her; but towards the last, when it became evident that the Jap was trying to make her getaway, the shooting was in deadly earnest. Several broadsides were fired, which I think did more damage to the Wolf than to the Hitachi Maru, as the air concussion stove in the doors and glass ports on all the staterooms on the berth deck. In several of the rooms the wash basins and plumbing were broken. I was standing in my open doorway with one foot on the threshold in such a manner that half of my foot protruded outside the line of the wall. When the first broadside was fired the concussion or rush of air passing my doorway, hit the part of my foot outside the door, feeling just exactly as if somebody had kicked it away or hit it with a baseball bat. Something went wrong with the six-inch gun mounted on the stern of the Wolf and a shell exploded a few yards away from the muzzle, putting the gun crew and gun out of commission for the balance of the voyage.
The prisoners who were confined directly below this gun said that the shock and concussion down below was dreadful during the firing, and that when the shell exploded they thought the Wolf had been hit. At this time they did not know but that the Wolf had met a cruiser and many thought they were about to be drowned, especially when suddenly all firing ceased; they thought that the Wolf had been vitally hit and that the Germans had scuttled her and were abandoning her. Many of these men will remember this experience for the balance of their lives.
By this time the Japanese captain had decided that he did not have a chance, and stopped his vessel, while the Wolf sent the prize crew on board. In the meantime the passengers and crew had managed to get clear in the life-boats, which were picked up. The people were taken on board the Wolf. There were some 70 odd passengers, 1st and 2nd class, among them 6 women and one little black girl. They were a sorry looking sight as they climbed on board the Wolf; many of them were only half dressed, being just awakened from their afternoon nap by the cannonading. Over a hundred of the Japanese crew came along with the passengers. The Wolf could not accommodate such a large addition of prisoners without making new quarters for them, so they had to live and sleep on deck for the first three days, when they were transferred back to the Hitachi. The Hitachi had altogether 16 killed or mortally wounded. The Wolf incidentally lost its fresh meat for supper, because one shell had wrecked the refrigerator plant and spoiled all the fowl and fresh meat.
One of the passengers on the Hitachi Maru, an American chap hailing from Chicago, told me his experience.
When the Wolf was first sighted he was in bed reading; someone told him that they were going to pass a steamer, and he got up and dressed and went on deck to watch her. There was speculation regarding her nationality among those watching although none of them imagined her anything but what she seemed—an ordinary tramp. When she dropped her ports and fired across their bow, everybody for a moment was dumbfounded.
He ran into the cabin giving the alarm to those sleeping and secured some valuable papers he had in his cabin. The Jap crew were in a panic after seeing their gun crew killed, and many of them rushed the boats. The first boat to be lowered was filled with members of the Japanese crew, only one second class passenger being among them. On landing in the water this boat was capsized; but the occupants were shortly picked up by a boat, also manned by Japs.
The first boat to be launched with passengers in it was handled entirely by the white passengers. In this boat were four women and twenty-eight men; on being lowered the davit fall on one end fouled; and it looked very much as if everybody were going to slide out, as the boat was nearly perpendicular. Fortunately for all concerned, the fouled davit fall broke, and the boat dropped into the water. A lot of water was shipped but the boat floated right side up. The men immediately pulled away from the vicinity of the vessel. It was the firm belief of the occupants of this boat that they were to be shelled later on by the Raider.
One of the lady passengers during the excitement lost a lot of jewels. Some days later a German sailor clearing out one of the life-boats found these jewels. He came down the deck to where there were several of the passengers standing and asked: "Does anybody belong to these things?" He held out for their inspection a handful of diamonds, rubies, pearls and other valuable articles. Needless to say, he had no difficulty in finding an owner. This sailor earned 18 marks per month and the value of the find was in the neighbourhood of ten thousand dollars. I wonder how many men, under the circumstances, would have returned these jewels.
The Wolf and the Hitachi now steamed to the southernmost group of the Maldive Islands, arriving there on September 27th. The vessels tied up alongside of each other and coal and cargo were transferred from the Hitachi to the Wolf. The cargo of the Hitachi Maru was valued at over a million and a half pounds sterling, chiefly copper, tin, rubber, thousands of tons of silk, tea and hides. It always seemed uncanny to me that these "deep-sea vultures" seemed to be able to capture a vessel loaded with any particular kind of cargo they wanted. About a month before this capture, I heard the officers talking among themselves and one of them remarked, "Now the next ship we get should be loaded with copper and rubber and tin." Sure enough the Hitachi had what they wanted.
It seemed a pity to me to see the thousands of bales of silk goods, ladies' blouses and silk kimonos being dumped from one hold to another and trampled on. When the Hitachi was finally sunk there were a couple of thousand tons of expensive Japanese lingerie and other ladies' wear and miscellaneous department store merchandise sunk with her. The mermaids must have had "some" bargain sale.
It was the intention of Nerger to pick up, if possible, a vessel that could furnish him with enough coal to take both the Hitachi and Wolf back to Germany. At this time there was a lot of talk about landing us on one of the islands where there were missionaries. However, none of us took any stock in this "landing talk," as it was too apparent what their intentions were.
It was here that the married folks with their wives along, sent a written petition to the Commander of the Wolf, begging to be given one of the Hitachi life-boats and a supply of provisions, so that on the eve of the Wolf's departure for parts unknown, we could make our way to one of these islands and there await the arrival of some trading schooner to take us to civilisation again. Nerger sent word back that he could not do that, and repeated the same old "bull" about landing us in some safe place, some time. Lord, he must have thought we were a bunch of "gillies" to believe that guff.
On October 1st we were transferred from the Wolf to the Hitachi along with all the rest of the "top side" prisoners. Our quarters on the Hitachi were splendid. We fell heir to the bridal suite. It seemed mighty good to sit down at a regular table with a white cloth and napkins again. I shall never forget my feelings as we sat there for the first meal, waiting for the whitecoated Jap waiter to bring on the food. I could feel myself getting up from the table with that satisfied, contented feeling amidships. Soon the waiter came and set before us each a plate containing two ordinary soda crackers or ships' biscuits, with a poor lonely god-forsaken sardine stranded on the top. This, and a cup of the regulation "near" coffee comprised our first evening meal on the Hitachi Maru. For the following morning's breakfast we had porridge with kerosene spilt on it. Absolutely uneatable. For dinner, rotten meat with good potatoes, water—or soda water, if you had money to buy it with—and in the evening canned crab and crackers. In the meantime our commander, Lieutenant Rose, was having a banquet in his room with his brother officers on the Wolf.
On the Hitachi it was noticed that Rose very seldom made his appearance in the dining room at mealtimes. Quite frequently at meals one of the Australian passengers who belonged to Lieut. Rose's bridge-playing clique, would send a card up to his room asking if it were not possible to have an extra slice of bread or a cracker. The answer would come back: "Sure, boys, just ask the steward." But on asking the Jap steward he would only smile and say: "Velly sorry, but Captain write his name each day on paper that speaks how much you eat." This was the fact, as I have seen the paper.
The German chief engineer and chief mate used to eat at the same table as we did, and used to complain of the food as being inadequate; and one night the chief engineer took the matter up with Rose and told him a few truths. Rose said that it was "too bad," that he did not know anything about it before but now he would straighten it up. The engineer told Rose that if he cut out a lot of his private champagne suppers and looked into what the rest of us were getting it would not be necessary to make these complaints.
This is a condition that could not exist on the Wolf because there we were under the charge of a gentleman and an officer and we got square treatment, but on the Hitachi and later on the Igotz Mendi we were under a sub-lieutenant, a snob and a man who did not know the meaning of the word gentleman. In my opinion it is this class of "under officer" that gives the Germans the unenviable reputation that they have.
My wife at this time was convalescing rapidly and regaining her strength; and it was of the utmost importance that she be provided with sufficient food. Luckily I was able to purchase from one of the stewards a couple of large cans of biscuits, some preserved ginger and an occasional piece of cheese. This helped out a whole lot, although even at that she was under-nourished. Little Juanita did not fare so badly as she was given as much as her elders, and being only a child did not require so much as they.
At this time it was possible to purchase stout on the Hitachi, which was a Godsend to us. A few days after coming on board, when ordering stout, I was told that it had all gone. On making inquiries afterwards I found out that Lieut. Rose had stopped its sale and was reserving it along with all the beer and wine for his own use, and for the use of his particular friends, who were all able-bodied persons. There were three women, in addition to my wife, who actually needed something of this description.
The Jap stewards on board were being paid their regular wages by the German Government, but as their Captain was a prisoner on board the Wolf, and they were away from his authority, they paid absolutely no heed to any of the prisoners' needs, merely contenting themselves with keeping the Lieutenant well supplied with booze and anything else he wanted. Afterwards Rose told me that the service of the Japs on the Hitachi was splendid. I told him that it was rotten and told him why; Rose merely pulled that Prussian smile of his and said: "What do you expect? You're not first class passengers, you know." To this I agreed and told him all I wanted was an even break with the rest of the prisoners, or "ex-passengers," as he used to call us. There were some sixty of us occupying the first class cabins, among whom were many of the original passengers of the Hitachi. We were, with one or two exceptions, all young people, and despite the short rations we had and the rough experience we'd undergone, we managed to have some very enjoyable times, playing deck billiards, quoits, cricket and various card games. In the dining saloon was a piano. Some of the Australian chaps were great mimics and had good voices, so we had some very enjoyable evenings. The last night we were on the Hitachi, in particular, the Japs came to life and were almost human. One of them unlocked a large closet that was filled with masks, costumes, false beards, hair, etc., which were used for amateur theatricals. We all dressed up as various characters, and we had a regular variety show. Among the offerings were clog dancing, sword dancing, highland fling, the good old cake walk, and the Texas Tommy. The last number was what we called the "Hitachi Rag" and was danced by everybody. It consisted of the regulation "rag" varied by every conceivable step, including high and lofty tumbling. All during the performance the German sailors on the Hitachi were peering in through the portholes and lining the alley ways and steps, enjoying the show almost as much as the rest of us. But this "Hitachi Rag" was more than the disciplined Teutons could stand. First two of them tried it, and in a few minutes all the Germans were dancing. The news spread to the Wolf and there was a general stampede of Teuton guards and sailors, in our direction. For a few minutes we had full charge of the ship, as the Teutons wouldn't stop when their petty officers called them. Shortly afterwards the Chief Officer appeared and made us all stop, saying that it was the Commander's orders, and that we were "stopping the work of the ship"—to say nothing of undermining German discipline.
On the Hitachi, many of us lost things out of our rooms, such as razors, a camera, combs and various toilet articles and articles of clothing. One day, one of the British chaps caught a Jap steward in his room using his safety razor. As this particular Jap had pimples and sores all over his face, the British ally and owner of the razor was very hostile. I asked him what he was going to do about it. "I shall report the bally rotter to the management," the Briton replied. Not being used to such violent outbursts of emotion I beat it.
All the time that we were lying here among the Maldive Islands, 12 days in all, transferring cargo, the flying machine made regular observation trips twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening. On three different occasions it reported seeing steamers passing not more than 50 or 60 miles off, and once it reported seeing a fast cruiser, probably British, travelling along at full speed. This island where we were lying was only 50 or 60 miles off the regular trade route and I had hopes that some patrolling vessel would blunder on to us, but no such luck; although one night our hopes were raised to a great height.
Just shortly after sunset, my wife imagined that she saw something on the Western horizon. I got my glasses and concealing myself so that I could not be discovered I had a look. I, too, could see something, but at that time could not make it out; although in another ten minutes I had another look and sure enough it was bigger and plainer. Shortly after, it was discovered by the Germans, and an alarm sounded. Everybody was thrown into great excitement, and the lines tying the Wolf and the Hitachi together were let go. All of us prisoners ran to our rooms and got our "emergency kits" ready.
Just across the hall from our "Bridal suite" there was tremendous confusion. A corpulent British technical mining expert was rushing about his room in a perfect frenzy, looking for a heavy blue sweater he had carefully hung on a peg against just such an emergency as this;—of course, manlike, he blamed his wife for having mislaid it (my wife contributes this slam gratis.) However, after a few minutes' search, one of them discovered that the sweater was just where it belonged—on the man's back. I met "Father" Cross,—a veritable giant of a man and the greatest authority on Chinese dialects in the country,—shouting in a great, roaring voice: "Bar steward! Bar steward! bring me a bottle of whiskey, quick!" I could hear him mumbling: "You don't get me into a life-boat without a bottle of something to keep me warm." This same man lost his trousers while climbing out of the life-boat onto the Wolf when the Hitachi was first captured. Somebody sent him a package a few days afterwards containing an old pair of suspenders, and I think that "Father" would have murdered the sender if he could have found out who it was. I have often regretted that the sender did not enclose Lieut. Rose's calling card.
Just about the time I reached the deck there was an order given from the bridge of the Wolf in a very disgusted voice, which was shortly followed by a very choice assortment of cuss words, some of which were in English. I looked to the Westward and saw that our rescuing cruiser was only a cloud, and at that time was about five degrees up from the horizon. Later on I kidded some of the German Officers about it, and they each passed the blame on to somebody else; but just as this cloud had fooled me it had fooled them as well. "Father" Cross, however, averred that he knew what it was all the time, and that it was only a "sandy" on his part to get an extra bottle of whiskey.
On October 7th both ships sailed from the Maldive Islands, the Wolf going in search of a vessel loaded with coal, so that both Wolf and Hitachi could fill their bunkers with coal which would enable them to get "home" to Germany. We on the Hitachi loafed along at a slow speed in a southwesterly direction, meeting the Wolf again on the 19th, when we both steamed to the Chagos Archipelago, arriving there on October 20th, when we both tied up together and dropped anchor. During this time the Wolf had not been able to pick up a vessel, but the "bird" came back one day from an observation trip and reported a large steamer some 180 miles distant; later in the day she again went up and reported this steamer to be a big B.B. Liner of about 16,000 tons, and that she was equipped with 4 or 5 big guns. Needless to say, the Wolf wasn't looking for anything that could bite back, so the Commander decided to pass her up, and, returning to the Chagos group, take the balance of the Hitachi's coal and provisions on board the Wolf and sink the Hitachi, relying on getting another steamer in the Atlantic to furnish him with enough coal to complete his voyage.
It was during this cruise that Mr. Johnson, Second Officer on my vessel, died on board the Wolf from heart trouble (so they reported to me). The Germans gave him a burial at sea with full naval honours, Capt. Oleson, of the American schooner Encore, reading the burial service, the Commander and his officers standing by in full dress uniforms. The corpse was covered with an American flag and launched overboard from under the muzzle of one of the cannon.
THE BURIAL OF A. JOHNSON, SECOND OFFICER OF THE AMERICAN BARK "BELUGA," WHO DIED ON THE "WOLF".
Before shifting all the prisoners from the Hitachi to the Wolf, some arrangement for accommodation had to be made. The Germans cleaned out and fitted up No. 3 hold between decks for the ex-passengers of the Hitachi and also for the Japanese crew, a total of 170 odd persons. Iron berths were taken from the Hitachi along with washstands and other furnishings; and one corner of this "Glory Hole" was set aside for the whites and the fittings installed there. The Japs had wooden bunks built in the opposite corner for them, and rough wooden tables were knocked together for all hands to eat from and to play cards on. Also one of the pianos from the Hitachi was installed there—to the best of my knowledge this piano was never played, and my chief mate, Mr. Buckard, who was quartered there, used the top of the piano to keep his clothes in, while the cover of the keyboard was used as a kind of mantelpiece or shelf by all hands.
The whole place below was lighted by three clusters of electric light, at night, and three fans were installed and the whole given a coating of white paint. The ventilation down below was very poor, and it was tough on the white men being forced to breathe this air as it was full of all kinds of oriental odours, and no doubt also oriental germs. A couple of armed sentinels were on guard below, continually, and also four on deck in the immediate vicinity of the hatch, at such times when the German crew were not at their almost continual gun drill and practice; at which times all hands were chased below, as also on the appearance of any vessel. The greatest hardship these men had to contend with was the lack of drinking water, as there seemed to be an unequal division of it between the Japs and the whites, with the latter getting the worst of it.
Immense quantities of iron piping and pipe fittings were taken from the Hitachi to be used later in fitting the prisoners' quarters under the poop and in No. 3 hatch, with heaters against the cold weather that was to be encountered before they finally reached Germany.
Auction bridge, poker and a German game called "Mussel" were the favourite card games and the stakes were very small; one pfennig ante and five pf. limit. Considering that it takes 100 pfennigs to make 25 cents, nobody won or lost a fortune, although on several occasions diplomatic relations were temporarily severed between some of the players. It was laughable, for instance, to hear an Australian chap named McEnally, who is very well off, owning plantations and big manufacturing concerns, squabbling over who would shy a penny in the pot. Taking it all in all, these men, amongst whom were some splendid fellows, adapted themselves to conditions as only the Britisher and the American can.
BOUND FOR GERMANY—THE RESCUE
On November 7th, the transfer of cargo being complete, and everything movable or floatable on the Hitachi being secured so that it would not float off when she sunk and leave any trace to make a passing steamer suspicious, we steamed out well clear of the Chagos Islands and at 1:30 P.M. the Hitachi Maru was bombed. She sank in 29 minutes.
We on the Wolf were quite close to the Hitachi Maru and could see everything very clearly. First the "bombing squad" were very busy placing their bombs: two amidships and one each in No. 1 hatch forward and No. 2 hatch, aft. The fuses from these bombs were all led on to the deck and brought to one centre. After everything was in readiness and all of the men, excepting the Mine Lieutenant, were in the launch, the Lieutenant lighted the fuse and ran for the boat. Usually the fuses are set for 12 minutes, which gives the launch ample time to get away. We all stood there gazing intently at the steamer, expecting every minute to see the explosion. The twelve minutes' wait in a case of this kind seems nearer half an hour. Suddenly there was a dull boom sound, and the water was convulsed, and smoke from the burnt powder appeared. And that was all, as the explosions all take place below the water line. The vessel sinks very rapidly at first, and in the case of the Hitachi Maru, the vessel settled evenly; that is, she went by neither head nor stern. Soon the water was nearly even with the rail, and the Hitachi's bow sank a little faster by the head. Pretty soon the waves were breaking on deck, and every moment might be the last; but still she hung on as if fighting for her very life. Suddenly a shudder seemed to pass over her, caused by the bursting of a bulkhead; her head disappeared below the wave, she hung there an instant and then her stern rose high out of the water; she made her final dive ... and the Hitachi Maru, 1st class Japanese passenger steamer, ceased to be.
There were a great many satisfied Ah, Ahs from the German crew as she disappeared, and a general feeling of satisfaction among them. For myself, I am afraid there was a tear in my eye, and all that I can wish these destroyers of good honest ships is that may they sometime think of how they smiled as they sank these ships, when they are standing around with empty bellies waiting for a chance to earn a living as sailors. I can understand a landsman sinking a ship and thinking it a joke, but a sailor, to my mind, should feel sad at seeing the end of an honest vessel, may she belong to friend or enemy.
I know one German officer who told me that, when the Wolf returned to Germany, he would never go in a raider again; that he made his living going to sea and could not stand seeing ships sunk.
From the Chagos Islands we steamed toward the Cape of Good Hope, and on November 10th, at 6:30 A.M., Wolf captured the Spanish steamer Igotz Mendi with a cargo of coal from Delagoa Bay to Colombo for the British Government. This was a very tame capture, the captain stopping as soon as he was signalled, thinking possibly that he was immune because he was neutral. No such luck. Lieutenant Rose and his prize crew went on board and took command, all the Spaniards staying on board. The first official act of Rose was to order Captain Uralda to vacate his room so that he, Rose, could use it. Captain Uralda answered temperamentally by throwing an inkstand at Rose. Unfortunately Capt. Uralda is no Christie Mathewson and the first one was a ball. However, the Spanish Captain gave up his room. Both vessels now returned to the Chagos group and tied up together.
There was weeping and wailing on the Wolf that they did not hang on to the Hitachi Maru for a few more days. If they had, and the Wolf had captured Igotz Mendi, all three of us would have gone to Germany and the Imperial Government would very probably have been richer by many thousands of marks worth of valuable cargo that was sunk with the Hitachi.
The Germans transferred some two thousand tons of coal from the Igotz Mendi to the Wolf at this time. On November 12th, the two Australian medical officers and the major's wife, a British Professor from Siam and his wife, "Father" Cross—an eminent British barrister from Singapore—and his wife, the technical mining man and his wife, one Chinese woman and husband, one Mauritian woman and a little black girl, and two male invalids were suddenly ordered on board the Igotz just as they stood. There was lots of excitement, as the Wolf had picked up a wireless message from a cruiser which was within 30 miles of us, but which unfortunately kept right on going. A couple of German sailors dumped everything in our room on the Wolf into a couple of bed sheets and dumped them down on the deck of the Igotz Mendi for us.
Our quarters here on the Igotz Mendi were fairly good, especially in warm weather, but later on in the cold regions they were far from livable. "Father" Cross, the Colonel and the two sick men were quartered aft under the poop in a room that had formerly been a boatswain locker; the rest of us were housed amidships in what was before the Spanish officers' quarters. The Spanish deck officers doubled up with the Engine room squad, thereby leaving their rooms vacant for us to occupy.
I wish to add here that at the time of the transfer of the prisoners from the S.S. Metunga to the Wolf, Mrs. X, steward of the Metunga, was quartered on the top deck with the rest of the womenfolks. Mrs. X was an Australian woman of middle age and the widow of a Chief Engineer in the same company that owned the Metunga. After her transfer to the Wolf, she was ordered by the German officers to take care of the ladies' quarters. On account of the overbearing and insolent manners of some of her fellow shipmates, she refused duty, stating that she was a British subject and a prisoner of war and entitled to the same treatment as the rest of the women prisoners. In this she was perfectly justified and I am certain it was through Lieut. Rose's influence that this demand of her services was made, as Rose was very partial to one of these ex-passengers. Later on when transferred to the Hitachi Maru Mrs. X was quartered aft in the second class, she being the only white woman there; and things were made generally disagreeable for her. This no doubt was because she was brave enough to show her independence and stand up for her right.
When we were transferred from the Wolf to the Igotz Mendi she asked to be kept on the Wolf, rather than go on the Igotz Mendi under the charge of Rose, stating that she would rather take the chances with the rest of them on the Wolf than be treated as she felt she would be on the Igotz Mendi.
This permission was granted her; but, a few days later on, she was transferred to the Igotz Mendi against her will, and quartered in the same room as the coloured people, among whom was one male.
Many of us were highly incensed because of this treatment of a white woman, but were powerless to do anything with Rose in the matter although we tried to make her lot as bearable as possible. Later on this woman took sick owing to the dampness of her quarters and my wife nursed her for three weeks until she finally recovered.
The Igotz Mendi was a product of war-times, being built in 1916, and built in the cheapest possible manner, both in hull, equipment and accommodations. In her saloon, ten of us could sit down fairly comfortably in good weather, but when the vessel was rolling as nearly always was the case, only eight could sit down at the table, as the chairs at the ends were not stationary. We were waited upon by a steward named "Manuel." Manuel was quite a character and had his own ideas about how much a man should have a day for two pesetas. One day we were talking together, and he said that he shipped to take care of three men only and now he had twenty-two, among whom were four women, any one of whom (the women) were more trouble than the original three men he had shipped to serve. I think Manuel had the largest thumb I have ever seen. When he brought in my plate of alleged soup the plate would be brimming full; on setting it down and withdrawing his thumb the plate would be only half full. This thumb would have been a valuable asset to some Yankee boarding house mistress in the States. Later on Manuel took a violent dislike to some of our party and used to spill the "coffee" or soup on them. This he did with malice aforethought and I don't know that I blamed him much, as some of our party imagined they were first class passengers on a modern liner with servants to supply their every whim.
On November 15th both steamers left the Chagos Islands, the Igotz Mendi going at slow speed to a point 300 miles south of the Cape of Good Hope, and the Wolf followed the regular sailing vessel route, where on November 18th she captured and sank the American bark William Kirby of New York, Captain Blum commanding. The Kirby was en route from New York to Port Elizabeth with a general cargo, the major part of which was automobiles destined for the African Christmas market. After transferring the crew, provisions, and what food stuffs were handily got at, the bomb gang got in their work and at 5:30 P.M. on November 18th the Kirby made her final bow.
LAST OF THE AMERICAN BARK "WILLIAM KIRBY." 1200 GROSS TONS. CAPTAIN BLUM. CAPTURED NOVEMBER 15TH, THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY MILES S.E. OF PORT ELIZABETH.
On December 6th we met the Wolf again for a short time, exchanged signals, and received a further supply of canned crab, the Wolf having an inexhaustible supply which she had got from the Hitachi. We had so much crab that the very sight of a can of it was nauseating. I feel sure that should a waiter in a restaurant ever suggest crab to any of the ex-prisoners on the Wolf, he would have a very unpleasant time of it. During the night of the 6th, the Wolf left us, taking a more northerly route than we. At this time, Lieutenant Rose had told the Spanish ex-Captain that we were en route to Trinidad Island, Brazil, where Wolf would get what additional coal she required, and then we, the Igotz Mendi, should, after waiting 10 days at the island, proceed to Spain. This, of course, made us feel very happy and I know that the Cameron family were overjoyed with the prospects of getting safely landed after such a long time. Many of us took up the study of the Spanish language, and some very queer conversations were carried on. When I tried to talk Spanish, I would usually get stuck for a Spanish word and put in a German one; then if I couldn't think of the German word, would use English, the result was that neither a Spaniard nor a German could understand me. Sometimes I couldn't figure it out myself.
We enjoyed fine weather and managed to keep alive on the food, which was some task. When we got up from the table hungry, we would think of Spain and freedom in a few short weeks, and forget all about how empty we were. On December 18th the Wolf again picked us up; it seemed that she could appear at will like some gigantic evil spirit. The Wolf wig-wagged the information that on December 14th she met and sank the French bark Marechal Davoust, bound from Australia to France with a cargo of grain. This bark was equipped with wireless and had two guns mounted on her, but offered no resistance to the Wolf. Wolf took the crew, provisions, ships stores, the wireless, and also his two cannon, off the Frenchman, later in the day sinking her by bombs.
Both the Wolf and Igotz Mendi now proceeded together toward the Island of Trinidad and expected to get there early on the morning of December 20th. I had made arrangements with Lieutenant Rose so that I could have a jolly boat in the morning and the wife and I go fishing off the rocks on the lee side of the island, as this island is celebrated for its good sea bass fishing. At 9:30 P.M. on the 19th, while pacing the deck with the wife before retiring, I noticed that the Wolf suddenly changed her course to the Northward and signalled us with her flash light. We immediately changed also, and put on all available speed to the northward after the Wolf. Soon the explanation came: there were two cruisers of the Brazilian Navy anchored at Trinidad and the Wolf had picked up a wireless message from one of them to the Brazilian authorities. Needless to say, it didn't take Commander Nerger long to decide that he had business elsewhere. If these confounded gossipy cruisers had not used their wireless, in another few hours we should have run right into their arms. On the other hand, if they had been lying in the harbour of some big sea port as seems to be the custom with battle ships, and not off Trinidad Island, we should probably have carried out the regular schedule of freedom via Spain. Of the two, I should much have preferred the Brazilian navy to rescue us, as then I should have been sure of freedom, while on the other hand, I had only Rose's word that we would proceed to Spain. There was a bitter gloom on our ship for a good while after this; in fact the spirits of the prisoners never regained their previous buoyancy. The great question now was "What next?" We could see only Germany ahead of us, and that was not very encouraging. For myself, I felt quite confident that we should never get through the blockade and the mine fields. Captain Rose had often told us that in the event of our meeting a cruiser, we would go into the boats and the ship would be bombed and sunk. This was a very alluring proposition for a family man to look forward to but was better than the conditions on the Wolf, as there now were nearly 800 crew and prisoners on the Wolf, while its life-boats and rafts under the most favourable conditions could hold only 400, so it can easily be figured out just how much chance our poor chaps had of getting into the boats, in the event of the Wolf's meeting a superior enemy. Probably they would be battened down below in the hold, and would be sent down to "Davey Jones' Locker" with the Wolf. In our case on the Igotz Mendi we were about thirty souls to a boat, and if the weather conditions were favourable and we had a little luck, we should have been all right. The women naturally lived in a continual dread of having to go into the boats.
We had all been looking forward to eating our Christmas dinner at the island of Trinidad and were going to have a royal feed, as our German "hosts" were going to kill a pig and a cow that were on board the Igotz Mendi when captured. However, the Brazilian navy changed our plans as to where our dinner was to be eaten; though we had "Sir Pig" just the same. Owing to the sudden change of our plans (gaining freedom via Spain) we all felt very blue on Christmas day, which was not the enjoyable affair it would have been if everything had worked out as expected. I know I had the blues all Christmas as I got thinking about other Christmases spent under more enjoyable circumstances, which thoughts naturally didn't make me feel any more cheerful. Lieutenant Rose was around bright and early, wishing us all a merry Christmas and "many happy returns" of the day. I intend next Christmas, if Rose is still interned in Denmark, to write him a letter returning the compliment, and then he can possibly appreciate the subtleties of a joke of this nature. My wife wanted to stick a hat pin into him when he came around with his "many happy returns of the day." The German crew, too, appeared to be blue on Christmas.
New Year's eve we all sat up to see the New Year in, and one or two of us worked up enthusiasm enough to make a little noise, but the situation was so depressing that we soon subsided. Not so our German crew, however. They held high festival in the Engineer's mess, having a bowl full of punch, whose chief recommendation was that its foundation was "Aguadenti" and it had an awful kick. The Spanish Engineer, who had a splendid voice, sang several songs, and the German sailors sang patriotic songs. At about two o'clock on New Year's morning, some one woke me up by shoving a bottle of wine through the port-hole for me, and later on around three A.M. another bottle made its appearance. Some of the German sailor boys had imagined we were not happy because we had no wine. The gifts were received in the spirit in which they were sent. This was by no means the only act of kindness shown my family and myself by the members of the crew. In fact, throughout the trip, officers and crew, with the single exception of Lieutenant Rose, were very friendly toward us. The American contingent was decidedly popular, though they had no use for the rest. As an illustration, on my birthday on January 25th several members of the crew came and presented me with presents in the form of bottles of wine, and even Rose came across with a box of cigars. Several of the German crew had lived in America for many years; two had even taken out their first papers. And all of these talked enthusiastically of going back to America as soon as the war was over.
I was very much interested in trying to find out just what the German opinion was of America coming into the war. Lieut. Rose used to stick his chest up in the air and say that the United States' coming in wouldn't make any difference in the ultimate outcome of the war, and that the only difference it would make was that the States would lose a lot of men and money. Just the same, I am of the opinion that Rose knew that America's coming in spelled the finish of Germania, though of course he wouldn't admit it. One day at the table he said that the "Star Spangled Banana," as he loved to call our flag, was only a joke and that it looked like a gridiron to him. I made the remark that possibly the stars and stripes would not prove the joke he imagined. My retorts to sallies of this kind were very moderate, as I considered I was in no position to argue the point with him, and didn't want to lose any of my liberties. I was always afraid to start an argument with him, as I am very hot-headed and knew that in the event of a row I was sure to get the worst of it eventually. Rose used to laugh at the American soldier, saying we were crazy to imagine that we could take a man and make a soldier out of him in a year, that at best these men would only be cannon fodder, that Germany had proved it takes three years to make a soldier, also that our submarines were mere toys, and that as for submarine defense, just as soon as we figured out some Yankee patent to protect our ships, they (Germany) would invent some other way to destroy them. Rose believed that the submarine would eventually decide the war. It was pretty hard to sit at the same table and hear an enemy slam the American government and not to be able to "hit back" or even "argue" the point.
On January 20th, in latitude 33 degrees north and longitude 40 degrees west, we again met the Wolf, and, the weather being exceptionally fine and the sea very smooth, the Wolf came alongside and we transferred some 800 tons of coal to her. Each vessel's side was well supplied with large fenders or bumpers made of large coils of rope, so that when the vessels would bump together they would do as little damage as possible. Even under these favourable circumstances, however, the vessels rolled and tossed around a great deal, and occasionally some very severe crashes were experienced; but Commander Nerger, realizing how great was his need for coal, and knowing it might be months before he would get as smooth sea again, held on and worked every man available despite the heavy bumping that was damaging both vessels. The gang of men on the Wolf trimming the coal in the bunkers could not handle the coal as fast as the other gang brought it to them, so, rather than delay the coaling, to save every minute, they dumped the coal on deck; and when the vessels were forced to part owing to the increasing swells, both guns and both torpedo tubes on the after deck were covered with coal. If a cruiser had happened along at that particular moment, the Wolf's after battery would have been out of commission. However, these conditions did not continue long, as all hands worked feverishly at the job until all the coal was under decks. After the two vessels had parted, we took stock of damages and found that several frames or ribs in the side of Igotz Mendi were broken, that some plates on her side were badly stove in. These flattened or stove-in places varied in size from six feet to forty feet in length. Luckily all our damage was above water line, and the vessel leaked only when rolling heavily, or when a big sea was running. The Wolf was also damaged, having several frames broken and four plates cracked. She was leaking eleven tons of water per hour, while we averaged about one and one-half tons per hour.
From this point the two vessels separated after arranging another and final rendezvous at latitude 61 degrees north and longitude 33 degrees west, a point some little distance southwest of Iceland. The weather from now commenced to get colder and we with our impoverished blood and scanty clothing commenced to feel the cold keenly.
Then came another heartbreaking disappointment. Be it remembered that our daily prayer and hope was that we would meet a cruiser before we got into the extremely cold weather, where the suffering in the life-boats would be intense.
On January 24th the weather was very overcast, and drizzly, and inclined to be squally—regular Channel weather. I was lying in my bunk reading a four months' old newspaper printed in Africa, when at about five bells (2.30 P.M.) my wife came to my door and said: "Stan, there is a cruiser with four funnels just ahead of us." I thought she was kidding, and said: "All right, Mamie, tell them to reserve an outside room for me." I then looked at her and saw she was white as a sheet. I jumped up, knowing immediately there was "something doing." Just as I hit the floor, the Professor stuck his head in at the door and said: "My God, Captain, a cruiser at last." I ran out on deck and there just on the edge of a rain squall was what appeared to be a four-funnelled cruiser. Just about this time the Spanish second mate, who was on the bridge, discovered her, and a sailor ran into Lieutenant Rose's room calling him to come to the deck. As soon as I looked at the cruiser through my glasses, I saw that instead of being one four-funnelled cruiser, it was two American army transports, both of them heavily armed with what appeared to be big guns. There was great confusion amongst the Germans, and in a few seconds two of them (armed) chased us into our cabins in no uncertain manner. We altered our course in such a manner as to pass under the stern of the two transports, and they were less than a mile from us when they crossed our bow. They paid absolutely no attention to us, and in a few minutes were swallowed up in the fog and lost to sight. My God, you can't imagine how I felt after hoping and praying and building on running across a cruiser, not for days but for months, and when we at last did meet two of them, they passed calmly on, not even signalling, nor asking who we were. It was certainly disappointing. And then to have to sit at the same table and see Rose sitting with that "Chessy" cat smile of smug complacency on his ugly Prussian mug. Previous to this episode, he frequently made remarks about the Stars and Stripes, and after this incident, he never lost an opportunity to refer to it. Just the same the Germans were a badly frightened bunch. The first thing they did on seeing the supposed cruisers was to run to their quarters and put on their good clothes, fully expecting to be the guests of the American government. The next thing they thought of was their bombs, and the bomb man going to get them, found that they were gone. Somebody had stolen them. Holy Poker, wasn't there hell to pay! If words, looks or wishes could have killed we would all have been crucified where we stood.
This bomb episode, at this time, was as much a mystery to us prisoners as it was to Lieutenant Rose. For some reason or other my fellow prisoners must have thought that I was the guilty party, because every time I would meet one of them on deck and start talking, he would excuse himself, having pressing business elsewhere. They seemed to be afraid that if they were seen talking to me that they would be "accessories after the act" and liable to punishment. I was greatly flattered to think that these people thought I was "hero" enough for a job of this description, but nevertheless I could not help thinking of how much assistance or co-operation I could have got from this crowd in case I had undertaken something along these lines.
The following day Lieutenant Rose held an investigation to find out "who stole the bombs." We were all chased out of the dining room on to the cold iron deck in a drizzling rain while this investigation was being held behind closed doors. However, I had not been on board the Igotz Mendi for this length of time without knowing my way about and managed to get an "ear full." When the Spanish Chief Officer was called, Rose asked him if he knew anything about the bombs. He answered: "Yes, I threw them overboard. I'll tell why. It was not for me, Captain Rose, but for the women and little children. I am not afraid of you. You can shoot me if you want to, but you can't drown the little children." Rose confined him to his room and the next time we met the Wolf Commander Nerger sentenced him to three years' imprisonment in a German military prison. I consider this a very brave act of the Spaniard's and wish that I were in a position to show some substantial appreciation of his humane heroism. After this incident our guards were doubled and we were chased off the deck if anything appeared on the horizon.
One day the Spanish Chief Officer, Mr. ——, told me the details of this episode. At the time of the cruiser alarm he was asleep in his bunk and was wakened by the unusual amount of noise. As soon as he saw the supposed cruisers he ran to the wireless room, under the bridge, where the bombs were kept. This room had two doors, one on each side. Luckily the side he entered on was the side towards which the wireless operator, who was intently "listening in" for signals from the other vessels, had his back turned to. —— reached under the table, secured the bombs and went outside again, where he threw them into the sea. The wireless operator never turned around, thinking that it was the "bomb man" who had come after his bombs. —— reached the deck and back to his room without being observed by any of the Germans. He said he owned up to the stealing of the bombs so that nobody else would get into trouble.
A peculiarity of this case was that some time previous to this, shortly after the Igotz Mendi was taken charge of by the Germans, I had approached —— on the subject of trying, should a favourable opportunity occur, to take charge of the vessel. I did not receive any encouragement along these lines and was afraid to go into the matter any further with him. I put it down as a case of cold feet.
Mr. ——, an ex-second officer of a captured British steamer, who was an invalid who had just come through three months' siege in the hospital on the Wolf, and I, had gone into the details of an enterprise of this kind, but unfortunately while this Britisher had the heart of a lion, he was physically unfit for anything as strenuous as this undertaking, and the matter was dropped, against his will, although he would admit that he might keel over any time. If the British army has many chaps like this in it, Kaiser Bill is surely going to catch hell. It is my belief that at this particular time, owing to certain conditions that existed, four good two handed men could have taken charge of the Igotz Mendi and probably would not have met with much resistance, except possibly from Lieutenant Rose, and I am sure it would have been a pleasure to tap him on the head.
The co-operation of the Spanish crew could not be depended on at this time, as they believed that in a couple of weeks they were to be free again, after coaling the Wolf at Trinidad Island.
AMERICAN SCHOONER "WINSLOW" BEING TAKEN INTO SUNDAY ISLAND AFTER CAPTURE BY THE SEAPLANE ON JUNE 7TH. IN THE BACKGROUND IS THE NEW ZEALAND STEAMER "WIARUMA" GOING OUT TO SEA TO BE SUNK BY THE "WOLF".
THE BLOWING UP OF THE AMERICAN SCHOONER "WINSLOW." 566 GROSS TONS. CAPT. TRUDGETT. SUNK JUNE 21ST OFF SUNDAY ISLAND BY FOUR BOMBS AND THIRTY-NINE SHELLS.
After the Trinidad Island disappointment, conditions were such that the taking of the ship by any of us, even with the unreliable co-operation of the Spanish crew, was not feasible.
The weather now was intensely cold and we all suffered intensely, as there was no heat of any kind in the cabins. Our bedding was continually wet and garments taken off on going to bed would be sopping wet in the morning from the "sweat" that gathered on the walls and ceilings. Personally I beat this part of the game by taking my clothes to bed with me. The food question, too, was getting serious, as owing to the cold weather we required more food to keep our bodies warm. The statement has been repeatedly made in the papers in Europe that on the Igotz Mendi the prisoners had the same food as the German Commander and crew. Let me show you how it was in reality. Eleven of us sat down at the first table with Rose at the head. The one platter started with him. He helped the party (a friend of his) on his right first, himself next, and passed the plate to the party on his left. This man was a glutton, and was without shame. These three people got very nearly and sometimes fully half of the contents of the platter; what was left was divided amongst the remaining eight, including five males, two women, and a little six year old child. If we asked for more, we were reminded that we were short of provisions and had to make them last. If the platter of food had been equally divided, and we had all shared alike, it would not have been so bad, but under this heads-I-win-tails-you-lose division I have got up from the table actually hungry. It is an awful sensation suddenly to realise that you actually covet the food another person is eating.
We continued in a northerly direction until February 5th, when we again met the Wolf, and owing to the bomb incident, sixteen additional Germans were sent on board with their side arms and clothing—but no additional food was sent with them. We now had eighty-two souls on board the Igotz Mendi all told. Lieutenant Wolf, division lieutenant of the Wolf, was also sent on board to assist Rose. Lieutenant Wolf took over the control of the food and the cook's department, and made an honest effort to better things, which did improve somewhat, at least to the extent that on bean meals we frequently got all we wanted; but he was also the inventor of a weird concoction known as "Billposter's paste" and for this last crime I will never forgive him. Otherwise he was a decent and fair-minded officer. After his arrival, favouritism was abolished and we all got a square deal.
On February 6th the Wolf left us and was never seen again by any of us. We then started to go around the northern end of Iceland, but met ice and were forced back. We ran south for a couple of days and waited around to see if the Wolf made it or not, and as she did not return, we concluded she had either got through or passed to the southward of Iceland, chancing the blockade. The cold here was very intense and caused a lot of suffering amongst us. Helped by some of the German sailors, I fixed a place in an empty bunker, where my wife, Nita and myself practically lived, only going in the cabin for meals and to sleep. Lieutenant Rose had canvas put up here for us and lights put in so that I could lie there and read, and the wife could sit and sew. Nita of course enjoyed the comparative warmth. The only drawback was that the air was full of fine coal dust and gas from the fire room, and we used to get frightfully dirty.
On February 12th we again tried to get to the northward of Iceland, but again met ice and had to return. Rose was forced to go to the southward of Iceland, as he could not waste any more time, since the supply of drinking water was getting very low.
Now that we were about to actually enter the blockade zone, our hopes commenced to rise. I heard nothing from my fellow prisoners for the past six months but: "Just wait until they try to run the British blockade." I heard this so often that I got to believe it and used to figure the only chance the Germans had to get through was if it was foggy weather, and then if he was lucky he might slip through.
We ran the blockade between the Faroes and Iceland in fine clear weather, and did not even see any smoke. So I commenced to think that it was quite possible, it being winter, that the British weren't paying much attention to this particular spot and were keeping cases on the Norwegian Coast, especially in that district around the Naze at the southern extremity of Norway. On the night of February 18th we received a wireless from Berlin that the Wolf had arrived safely and on February 19th we picked up the Norwegian Coast, some sixty miles north of Bergen. From here we proceeded down the coast, bucking a heavy head wind and sea, at about five knots per hour, passing inside the light on the island outside Stavanger, and thence down the coast and around the Naze. During this time it was fine and clear weather, and a cruiser could have seen us at twenty miles distance easily; but the only vessels we saw were a Stavanger pilot boat and a Danish passenger vessel bound northward. We were a disgusted bunch and no mistake. For myself, I was sore; I was afraid to speak to anybody. Here I had been kidding myself and letting others kid me that when I got this far, somebody would surely pick me up. And then to come down this coast in beautiful clear weather and not even see anything resembling a patrol boat was very disappointing to say the least.
From here on all I could see ahead of me was the Gates of Germany and the certainty of spending from one to five years a hungry prisoner in a Teuton detention camp. I would have sold out cheap at this time, believe me. By this time I had given up all hopes of getting free and had reconciled myself to going to Germany.... If it had not been for the family I would have jumped overboard and had a swim for neutral land at some place when we passed fairly close.
The following day while crossing from Norway to the northern end of Denmark, Jutland, it set in foggy and Lieutenant Rose was strutting around with a smile on his mug, saying: "Just the weather I want; made to order; I am all right now." I didn't argue the point with him, as I thought he was right. About 3.30 in the afternoon we picked up a fog whistle ahead, of the character we call a "blatter" on the Pacific Coast. I was standing on deck just under the bridge, talking to Rose. I nodded my head toward the signal and asked him what it was, and he said: "Oh, that is the lightship." I thought at the time it was a peculiar character for a lightship, but dismissed the thought, thinking, "different ships, different fashions."
Rose had told the British Colonel that this signal was a German torpedo boat with which he had arranged a meeting, and that the Colonel had gone inside to tell the rest of the prisoner passengers, which would give them all a scare. He also suggested that I should go inside and tell them it was a U-boat, and that I recognised the sound of her signal. I laughed, and told him I had made so many remarks regarding the blockade that I was afraid to speak to them. Shortly after this I went into my cabin and was standing looking out of the port-hole and talking to my wife, when I noticed that we had altered our course, by the bearing of the fog signal, and knew that Rose wanted to pass the lightship close aboard. Suddenly I felt the vessel smell the bottom. I looked at the wife and said: "Holy Poker! I thought I felt her smell the bottom." No sooner had I said this than the Igotz Mendi ran slap bang on the beach, about 350 yards off shore and less than half mile away from the lighthouse.
Rose's mistaking the lighthouse signal for the lightship's signal was a lucky piece of business for us because I knew for an absolute certainty when I felt the Igotz Mendi had taken the beach that it would require the assistance of a powerful tug to get her off again. I guess we all realised just how much this stranding meant to us, and the very nearness of freedom kept everybody quiet and busy with his own thoughts and plans. I know that for one I had decided to get over the side and swim for it, provided the vessel should give any indications of getting off the beach.
Right after the stranding, the weather being foggy, we were allowed on deck. One of the neutral sailors, a Dane named Jensen, identified the spot where we were ashore and gave me the good news that the little town of Skagen was only about two miles distant, and that one of the best life-saving crews in Europe was stationed there. Sure enough, in about an hour a life-boat drew up alongside. We were all chased inside again. Rose invited the Captain of the life-boat on board, and took him into the chart room just above the saloon for a drink and talk. Our lady prisoners immediately commenced playing a game of "button, button, who's got the button?" laughing and talking at the top of their voices, so that this man on top of the saloon would know that there were women on board. Also little Nita did a crying act that could be heard, I am sure. Shortly Rose came down with a blank scowl on his face and said: "You people can cut out the noise now, as the stranger has gone ashore."
Somebody asked Rose why he didn't introduce us to his friend, and Rose answered: "What do you think I am—a fool?" Nobody went on record with an opinion, so the matter was dropped. In the meantime, Lieutenant Wolf had gone ashore and had 'phoned from the lighthouse at Scow Point, where we were ashore, to a salvage company in Skagen, saying that we were a German merchant ship bound from Bergen, Norway, to Kiel, and that we had run ashore in the fog; and that if a tug was sent immediately we could be pulled off easily, but if we were allowed to lie any length of time, the ship would bed herself in the sand and it would mean a long delay in getting off. I understand he offered 25,000 kroner for the job; at any rate, the manager of the salvage company ordered his largest tug, the Viking, around, but instructed his captain not to put a line on board until the manager had gone down overland and investigated a little. Lieutenant Wolf in the meantime returned on board and reported to Rose, who was immensely tickled and told us that about midnight a tug would arrive from "a nearby town" and pull us into deep water, and that by four o'clock in the morning at the latest we would be on our way to Germany once more.
This news led to great consternation among us, and some great arguments regarding neutrality laws were carried on. On all the trip the Colonel had been quoting the Geneva convention, until we had all concluded that this particular convention was held for the express benefit of the medical officers of the army. I asked the Colonel if he remembered anything in the Geneva convention regarding the grounding of a belligerent's prize on neutral ground. He answered by saying that clause so and so, paragraph so and so, expressly stated that all medical officers should be exempt from ... at this point I butted in and told him to "go to hell"; that there were women and children and other prisoners on board as well as medical officers. All throughout the trip this man had behaved like a dog in a manger, being the quintessence of egotistical selfishness, and despised by us, one and all. The conclusion of all our argument was that might was right in this war, and that the Germans would do just what they liked, provided they could hoodwink the Danish officials.
The manager of the Danish salvaging company, on arriving at the lighthouse and talking with the various people there, concluded that perhaps things were not just right with the Igotz Mendi and that he had better get in touch with the Danish naval authorities before doing anything. He called up the Commander of the Danish cruiser Diana and stated the case, saying that things didn't appear to be just right. The Commander, a Lieutenant Lagoni, getting in touch with the authorities, 'phoned the manager of the salvage company that he would come right down to investigate. At about midnight the Diana arrived and Lieutenant Lagoni, being a gentleman and also a shrewd, wide-awake officer, took his chief officer on board the Igotz Mendi, telling him that he, the commander, would keep the captain of the Igotz Mendi busy answering questions in the saloon while the chief officer should have a good look around and gather what information he could. As soon as the Danish commander arrived on board we were all pushed and shoved into our rooms and the doors closed. When Rose started to take Lieutenant Lagoni into the chart room above the Lieutenant said: "Oh, no, Captain, let's go into the saloon; it is not customary to entertain the commander of a cruiser in the chart room." So they came into the saloon. Just as he came through the door he saw some of us being hustled out of sight—but said nothing. Shortly one of the ladies would shout down the alleyway: "Oh, Mrs. So and So, won't you come to my room for a minute? Don't be frightened." All this for the benefit of the Danish officer in the saloon. In the meantime the Danish chief officer was wandering around the Igotz Mendi, taking notice of all he saw. While strolling through the bunkers, where our "temporary" warm place was, he noticed Nita's "kewpie" doll lying where she had dropped it. There were men standing around all through these quarters. Suddenly the officer turned on a man standing there and said: "You're not a German." The man answered saying: "No, sir; I am a Dane." "Well, what are you doing here?" was the next question. The Dane, Jensen, told him he was from the Wolf and was working here on the Igotz Mendi, and that there were American and British prisoners on board, including some women and children. After completing his rounds, the Danish officer went on deck and told Lieutenant Lagoni that he was ready, and calling him aside, told him what he had found out. Lieutenant Lagoni then gave orders to disable the wireless plant and told Rose that the tug could not assist him off the beach, and that at the end of twenty-four hours the vessel would be interned providing she was still under German flag, and advised him to land any prisoners he had.
"IGOTZ MENDI" ASHORE ON THE DANISH COAST. TAKEN THE MORNING WE LANDED, FEBRUARY 26TH, 1918.
LIFE BOAT LEAVING THE BEACH FOR THE STRANDED "IGOTZ MENDI".
Of course during all this talk we prisoners knew nothing at all of what was going on, and when we saw the Danish officers leaving we came to the conclusion that our case was lost, and as there was an armed sentry pacing back and forth in front of the two doors leading from the cabin to the deck, it looked black indeed, and I for one felt very, very disappointed. The strain was beginning to tell on my wife again; so we both lay down on the bunk with our clothes on and listened to Rose on the bridge, ringing the telegraph and working his engines in a vain attempt to get his vessel off the beach. As I lay there thinking, I could not but pity Rose, realising how he must have felt.
Just imagine what his feelings must have been on realising that after spending fifteen months on a raiding and mine laying cruise, and always evading his enemies, he had run his vessel aground almost at the gates of Germany, and in place of receiving the Iron Cross first class, there was the possibility of his facing court martial on his arrival home, provided of course he was lucky enough to escape internment. Thinking this I fell asleep and at 6:30 A.M. of February 25th (shall I ever forget the date?) I was awakened by one of the German seamen named "Hans" knocking at my door and saying: "Kapitaine, Kapitaine, wake up and get ready to go ashore in the boats." I'll bet we broke all speed records getting on deck. Rose asked me to get into the life-saving boat first, as the Danish crew could not speak English, and then I could help the balance as they came down the ladder. I got Juanita firmly on my back and climbed down into the boat. There was a large sea running and as the Igotz Mendi was stationary on the bottom and the life-boat was riding on the seas, one moment it would be even with my feet and in another would be fifteen feet below. The idea was to jump at that instant the boat was even with me. This was easy enough with myself and wife, who understood such things and had had previous experience, but to the balance of the passengers it was hard to make them let go at the right time; they all having a tendency to hang on until the boat had started to go down again. Then, if they should let go, the drop was so great that the men in the life-boat could not hold them when they tried to catch them.
In some cases it was necessary absolutely to tear the passengers off the ladder by main force. However, we finally got all the women, children and men into the boat and we started for the beach. When we got into the breakers and the seas washed clean over us, many thought it would be a case of swim or drown, not reckoning on the kind of life-boat we were in or on the class of men that manned it.
I have seen various life-crews at drill and I spent a season on the beach at Cape Nome, where everything is surf work, but these old Danes, averaging fifty years of age and the living caricatures of that great soap advertisement, "Life Buoy Soap," familiar to all the reading public, were in a class by themselves. On entering the breakers, they dropped a kedge anchor with a long line on it, and literally slacked the boat through. A gigantic comber, one of those curling ones, just commencing to break, would rush upon us; up would go the stern of the boat and just at the instant that I would expect her to go end for end, the old "Sinbad" tending the anchor line would check her and in another instant we would rush for the beach, just as the Kanakas ride the surf on a board at Honolulu. When we finally grounded the men from the beach ran out and seized the women, the balance then ran the boat higher up the beach. The natives must have thought that we were a bunch of raving maniacs, the way we carried on, getting our feet on good "terra firma" again. We danced, we shouted, and cheered, and made damn fools of ourselves generally; but to my mind the situation warranted it. What a fitting climax to an adventure of this kind ... eight months a prisoner on a Teuton raider, and set free at the very gates of Germany, at the eleventh hour and fifty-ninth minute. It is hard to realise just what this meant to us all—possibly the very lives of my wife and kiddie, as I feel sure that they could not have stood much more, and at the best, there was from one to a possible five years' being buried alive in a German internment camp, and living under the conditions that I know to exist in that country.
We were taken to the nearby lighthouse, where the keepers and their families did everything possible for us, drying our clothes and giving us hot coffee to warm ourselves. About midday we went into Skagen, two miles distant, and separated, going to various hotels. My family and I put up at the Sailors' Home and were excellently taken care of by our host, Mr. Borg Hansen. I wish to go on record here as saying that at no place that I have ever been in have I met a more whole-souled, more hospitable or more likable class of people in my life than these Danish people of the little town of Skagen. I met people there who were the quintessence of courtesy and hospitality; in fact, they were "regular Danish ladies and gentlemen." Here at Skagen our various Consuls took us in charge and sent us to Copenhagen, where we separated, going our several ways.
During her fifteen months' cruise the Wolf laid approximately five hundred mines and captured fourteen vessels, as follows:
1. British tank s/s. "TURITELLA," 7300 gross tons, Captain S.G. Meadows, captured on February 27, 1917, in the Indian Ocean, bound from Rangoon to Europe with a cargo of oil. The captain and officers were taken off this vessel and transferred to the Wolf. A crew of German officers and mine-men were put on board of her, under charge of Lieutenant-Commander Brandes, ex-chief officer of the Wolf, and she was sent away as a mine layer, laying mines at Bombay and at Calcutta, and was afterwards captured at Aden, while laying mines, by a British gun-boat; and her crew of Chinamen were sent back to China, while her German officers were taken prisoners.
2. British s/s. "JUMMA," 6050 gross tons, Captain Shaw Wickerman, bound from Torreirja, Spain, to Calcutta with a cargo of salt. Captured in the Indian Ocean, March 1st. After what coal and stores she had on board had been removed, she was bombed on the morning of March 3rd in latitude 8 degrees 9 minutes north and longitude 62 degrees 1 minute east.
3. British s/s. "WADSWORTH," of London, 3509 gross tons, built in 1915, Captain John Shields, captured on March 11th, in latitude 54 degrees 30 minutes north and longitude 67 degrees east. After taking off about fifteen tons of rice and ship's stores the vessel was bombed on the 18th. Wadsworth was bound from Bassinia, India, to London with a cargo of rice, and was six days out from Colombo.
4. Mauritius bark "DEE," 1200 tons, Captain Ruug, bound from Mauritius to Bundbury, Australia, in ballast, thirty-nine days out. Captured May 21st, 300 miles off the west coast of Australia. Crew of blacks and stores taken on board the Wolf and the vessel immediately bombed.
5. New Zealand s/s. "WAIRUNA," of the Union S/S. Co. Line, of New Zealand, Captain John Saunders, with general cargo from Auckland to San Francisco. Captured May 21st off Sunday Island by seaplane. The Wolf was lying behind Sunday Island cleaning and repairing boilers at the time of capture. The flying machine flew over the Wairuna and dropped a message attached to a sandbag, saying to steer towards the Wolf or the flying machine would drop bombs on her. Thus she was taken by the raider. After taking off some forty live sheep and ship's stores and about 900 tons of coal, she was sunk by one bomb and fifteen shells. While towing the Wairuna to sea, Wolf discovered the schooner Winslow.
6. American schooner "WINSLOW," 566 gross tons, Captain Trudgett, bound from Sydney to Samoa, with general cargo. Captured off Sunday Island on June 7th by the seaplane while Wolf was sinking the Wairuna. After removing ship's stores and some 450 tons of coal the Winslow was sunk on June 21st by four bombs and thirty-nine shells, the old wooden box simply refusing to sink.
7. American bark "BELUGA," of San Francisco, 590 gross tons, Captain Cameron, bound from San Francisco to Sydney, Australia, with a cargo of benzine. Captured latitude south 26 degrees, on July 9th. After removing 300 cases of oil, the stores and boatswain's supplies, the Beluga was set on fire on July 11th by gun fire, by the nineteenth shot.
8. American schooner "ENCORE," 651 gross tons, Captain Oleson, bound from Columbia River to Sydney, Australia, with a load of lumber. Captured July 16th in latitude south 21 degrees and longitude east 169 degrees. After removing stores she was set on fire and left.
9. Australian s/s. "MATUNGA," of the Burns & Phillips Line, Captain Donaldson, en route from Sydney to Rabul, New Guinea. Captured August 4th, about 122 miles southwest of Rabul. Both vessels proceeded from this point to Pirate's Cove, at the northernmost end of New Guinea, arriving there on August 10th. Transferred cargo to the Wolf, amounting to some 850 tons of coal and 350 tons of supplies; also prisoners (passengers), including two army medical corps officers and three military captains. On August 26th Wolf proceeded to sea and sunk the Matunga by three bombs, vessel sinking in six and one-half minutes. Full particulars of the Matunga's cargo was picked up by the Wolf in a wireless message to her consignees, giving a copy of her outward manifest, also all sailing dates from time to time by Burns & Phillips themselves.
10. Japanese s/s. "HITACHI MARU," of the N.Y.K. Co., 6558 gross tons, Captain Kokmoa, en route from Colombo to England, via African ports. Captured on September 26th off the Maldive Islands and proceeded to southernmost group of the Maldives, where 800 tons of bunker coal were transferred to the Wolf, also 250 tons of copper and tin, silk, tea, approximately 400 tons of rubber, further cocoanuts and hides. On October 7th both vessels proceeded in different directions, the Wolf seeking for another vessel with coal while the Hitachi loafed along in a general southeasterly direction. Wolf picked up Hitachi again on October 19th, forty-two miles west of the Chagos group. On October 20th both vessels arrived at the Chagos Islands and tied up together. Additional rubber and silk and remaining coal were transferred to the Wolf. On the morning of November 7th both vessels left Chagos and the Hitachi was bombed.
11. Spanish steamer "IGOTZ MENDI," of Bilboa, 4648 tons. Captured in the Indian Ocean November 10th, en route from Delagoa Bay to Colombo with a cargo of coal. This vessel was sent to Germany, but grounded off Denmark.
12. American bark "WILLIAM KIRBY," 1200 tons, of New York, Captain Blum, from New York to Port Elizabeth, Africa, with a general cargo; captured on November 15th. Crew, provisions and stores were taken off and the vessel bombed on November 16th. She was captured 320 miles southeast of Port Elizabeth.
13. French bark "MARECHAL DAVOUST," 1100 tons, from Delagoa Bay to France with a cargo of wheat. Captured on December 14th. This vessel was armed and equipped with wireless. Guns and provisions were transferred to the Wolf and the vessel sunk on the 15th by bombs. Captured 130 miles southeast of the Cape of Good Hope.
14. Norwegian bark "STOREBROR," 2000 tons, Captain Moller, bound for Europe from Montevideo in ballast. Captured on January 5th in latitude 18 degrees south and 27 degrees west. Crew, provisions and stores transferred to the Wolf and vessel bombed.
