RUMOURS AND PLANS
We had been encouraged by the Germans to think--they had in fact
definitely told us--that the _Igotz Mendi_ with us on board was to be
sent to Spain when the Germans released her. This news greatly rejoiced
the Spaniards, who had naturally become very depressed, more especially
as they knew that if no news were received of them for six weeks after
the date on which they were due at Colombo a requiem mass would,
according to Spanish custom, be said for them at their churches at home.
On December 29th, all of which and the previous day, together with many
succeeding days, were spent in transferring our cargo coal to our
bunkers, the Germans on our ship and on the _Wolf_ ostentatiously bade
each other good-bye, and letters from prisoners on the _Wolf_ were
brought to us to post in Spain when we landed. The idea of the _Wolf_
remaining out till the war was over in six months was abandoned, and we
were told the _Wolf_ would now go home to Germany. Why we were told
this--the first time we had been informed of the _Wolf's_ plans--we
never knew, except that it might have been an excuse to keep dragging us
over the seas, for the _Wolf_ would never have allowed us to get ashore
before she reached Germany. Now that we know that the Germans always
intended taking us to Germany, it is obvious that it was quite
immaterial to them if they told us their plans. They wished to keep us,
and having told us of their future plans, it is plain they could not
afford to release us.
But at that time we really began to think we were going to be landed in
Spain, and the news raised the spirits of all of us. I remember
Lieutenant Rose telling the American Captain one day during a meal that
he could now keep his eyes directed to a Spanish port! Those who had
been learning Spanish before now did so with redoubled energy, and some
of us even marked out on a pocket atlas our railway route from Bilbao or
Cadiz--for the Spanish Captain thought it most likely we should be
landed at one of those ports--through Spain and France. We even got
information from the Spaniards as to hotels, and railways, and sights to
see in Spain. It seemed as if the end of our cruise, with our freedom,
were really in sight, especially as the Captain had told some of us on
December 16th that in six weeks our captivity would be over. Some of us,
however, still inclined to the belief that the Germans would release the
ship and order her back to Java or Colombo or Calcutta; while others
believed we should ultimately be landed in Dutch Guiana or Mexico, two
of the few neutral countries left.
On the last day of the year a rumour went round the ship that we should
be taken far north--about 60° N.--to a point from which the _Wolf_ could
get to Germany before we could reach Spain. That, in the opinion of most
of us, put an end to the prospect of landing in Spain. The Germans would
run no risks of our giving information about the _Wolf_. But this scheme
would have left uneliminated one very important risk. After the ships
would have separated, there was still a chance of the prize being
intercepted by an Allied cruiser before the _Wolf_ got home, and if that
had happened the _Wolf's_ goose would have been cooked indeed. So that
Spain looked very improbable. I approached the Captain on the last day
of the year and spoke to him on the point. He confirmed the rumour, and
said we should be sent back and landed at a Spanish island, most
probably Las Palmas. I made a vigorous, though I knew it would be quite
a useless, protest against this scheme. I pointed out that the ship,
which by then would be almost empty, was not a suitable one in which to
carry women and children into the North Atlantic in mid-winter gales,
and that people who had spent many years in the tropics would not be
able to stand such weather, unprovided as they were with winter clothing
(although the Commander of the _Wolf_ had certainly sent over some rolls
of flannelette--stolen from the _Hitachi_--for the ladies to make
themselves warm garments!). Also that in case of distress we could call
for no help, as our wireless would only receive and not send messages.
The Captain brushed these complaints aside, saying the ship was in good
trim and could stand any weather, that it would only be intensely cold
on a very few days, that arrangements would be made that we should
suffer as little from the cold as possible, and that there was very
little likelihood of our being in distress.
I then pointed out to him that our own Government prohibited our women
from travelling through the submarine zone at all, but that he proposed
to send them through it twice and to give us a double dose of the North
Atlantic at the very worst time of the year. He replied that going north
we should go nowhere near the submarine zone, that he was just as
anxious to avoid submarines as we were, and that when we parted far up
in the North Atlantic, the _Igotz Mendi_ would be given a "submarine
pass," guaranteeing her safety from attack by the U boats, and special
lights to burn at nights. I replied that I failed to see the use of a
"submarine pass," as U boats torpedoed at sight, and would not trouble
to ask for a pass. He replied by asking me if I had ever heard of a
neutral boat being torpedoed without warning. I answered that I had
heard of such being done many times, and reminded him that the _Igotz
Mendi_ was painted the Allied grey colour and therefore would not be
recognized as a neutral, but regarded by the U boats as an enemy ship.
The Captain became very angry--the only time he ever lost his temper
with me--and ended the interview by saying that he was carrying out the
orders of the _Wolf's_ Commander, and had no choice but to obey. This
was undoubtedly true, and though Lieutenant Rose told us many lies
concerning our destination, we always felt he was acting in accordance
with instructions from his senior officer in so doing. We all recognized
that we were lucky in that he, and not the Commander of the _Wolf_ or
any other officer of the Imperial Navy, was in charge of us. He
admitted, however, that it was particularly hard luck on my wife and
myself being captured like this, just as we had retired from a long
period of work and residence in the Far East. This news of the _Wolf's_
intentions angered us all, and we all felt that there was very little
chance of ever seeing land again, unless an Allied cruiser came to our
aid. We regarded this plan of the Germans as a deliberate one to sink us
and the ship when they had got all they wanted out of her, and I told
the Captain that my wife and I would prefer to be shot that day rather
than face such a prospect of absolute misery, with every chance of death
alone putting an end to it.
New Year's Day! With the dawn of 1918 we looked back on the last few
months of its predecessor and what they had meant and brought to us all.
What would the New Year bring forth? Liberty, or continued captivity;
life, or death at sea? On New Year's morning we wished each other good
luck and a Happy New Year, but with the news of our captors' intentions
given us on the preceding day our prospects were the reverse of rosy.
The two ships had parted on the evening of the 30th, both going north,
and we did not see the _Wolf_ again till the morning of January 4th. She
was then seen to be overhauling a ship on the horizon. We followed at a
short distance, and before long saw a ship in full sail. The _Wolf_
approached her, spoke to[3] her, and, to our intense astonishment,
released her. It seemed too good to be true that the _Wolf_ would leave
any ship she met quite unmolested, but so it was--for a short time. It
was between ten and eleven when the _Wolf_ and her prize proceeded on
their original course and the sailing ship crossed our course astern.
About 1.30 p.m., however, we changed our course and turned about. We
were all mystified as to what was going to happen, until we saw a sail
on the horizon. The _Wolf's_ purpose was evident then. She was going
back to destroy the ship whose existence she had forgiven in the
morning. Imagine the feelings of the crew of her prey; seeing the _Wolf_
bearing down on her in the morning, their suspense as to their fate and
that of their ship, their joy at their release, and--here was the _Wolf_
again! What would their fate be now? The _Wolf_ did not leave them long
in doubt. She came up to her prize about 5 p.m. She was a four-masted
barque in full sail, in ballast from the Cape to South America, and made
a beautiful picture as she lay bathed in floods of golden light from the
setting sun. Before dark, however, preparations had begun to remove her
officers and crew and provisions, and this was completed in a few hours.
We were invited by the Germans to stay up and see the end. They told us
a searchlight would be thrown on the ship, that we might better see her
go down. Stage effects, with a vengeance! But they were not carried
out--it was a too dangerous proceeding, as the enemy regretfully
realized. We waited up till past eleven and saw lights flitting about
the doomed ship, as the Germans sailors were removing some things,
making fast others, and placing the bombs to blow her up. But none
waited up for the end, which we heard took place after midnight. The
ship first canted over, her sails resting on the water, righted herself
and then slowly disappeared. It was a beautiful moonlight night for the
commission of so dark a deed. The Germans afterwards told us that when
the _Wolf_ first spoke the barque she gave her name _Storobrore_ and
said she was a Norwegian ship, and so was released. The Germans had
afterwards discovered from the _Wolf's_ shipping register that she was
the _Alec Fawn_ and British owned before the war, and therefore to be
destroyed.
The Germans told us that on the barque they had seen some English
newspapers, and in them was some news of the two men who had escaped
from the _Wolf_ near Sunday Island. One of them had died while swimming
ashore; the other, after some weeks alone on the island, had been picked
up by a Japanese cruiser. The news this man was able to give was the
first that the outside world had known about the _Wolf_ for many months,
and the Germans realized that their enemies would be looking out for
them and trying to prevent their return to Germany. This man would also
be able to give an exact description of the _Wolf_, the names of the
ships she had captured before his escape, and the probable fate of other
vessels since missing. This, we felt, would bring at least a little
comfort to our relatives, who might conclude we were on the raider and
not hopelessly lost, as they must have feared.
We had hoped our captors might have put us all on the sailing ship and
sent us off on her to South America, as the _Wolf_ would have been well
away and out of danger before we could have got ashore. But they did not
entertain any such idea. Some of us requested that the lifeboats of the
sailing ship might be sent over to our ship, as we had only two
lifeboats, a couple of small dinghies, and an improvised raft made of
barrels and planks lashed together and surrounded by iron uprights and
ropes--not sufficient for sixty-five people; but the Germans would not
send us these lifeboats, as they said they were leaky!
The question of baggage had to be again reconsidered. It was evident we
should be able to save very little, perhaps not even a handbag, if the
ship were sunk by the Germans and the prisoners put into the lifeboats.
However, we ourselves packed in a handbag our most precious treasures we
had brought from Siam. But in case it was impossible to save even so
little, we collected the most valuable of our letters and papers and had
them sewn up in sailcloth by a German sailor to put in our pockets. The
King of Siam had conferred a decoration on me before I left; this was
carefully packed and sewn up. I was determined to save this, if nothing
else, though it seemed hopeless to expect to save some much-treasured
parting presents and addresses presented to me by my Siamese friends.
Earlier in my service the King of Siam had conferred another decoration
on me, and I was carrying with me His Majesty's Royal Licence for this,
signed by him, and also King George V.'s Royal Licence with his
Sign-Manual, giving me permission to accept and wear the decoration.
Both of these documents, together with others highly valued which I was
also determined to save, were secured in water-tight cases, ready to be
put in my pockets at the last moment.
On January 8th, when the two ships stopped, the Captain went on to the
_Wolf_ and brought back with him charts of the North Atlantic and North
Sea. We wondered if this would be his farewell visit to and our farewell
acquaintance with the _Wolf_, but we remained in company of the _Wolf_
for the next few days, and at 7 p.m. on the 10th she again came
alongside in the open sea and coaled from us till 4 p.m. on the next
day. Conditions were slightly better than on the previous occasion, and
the Commander of the _Wolf_ was evidently of opinion that they would
never again be more favourable, but they were still quite sufficiently
unpleasant. More fenders were lost and the _Wolf_ was further damaged,
and this time our ship also sustained some damage. Some of her plates
had been badly dented and she was leaking about a ton and a half an
hour. The great uproar caused by the winches going all night, the
periodic emptying of ashes dragged in iron buckets over the iron decks,
the shifting of coal from the bunkers immediately underneath our cabins,
and the constant bumping of the ships made sleep quite out of the
question once more, and we were very glad indeed when the _Wolf_ sheered
off. On this occasion the way in which she came alongside and sheered
off was a beautiful piece of seamanship. Not many landsmen, I imagine,
have seen this done in absolutely mid-ocean, and not many have been on a
ship so lashed alongside another. It was a wonderful experience--would
that some friendly hydroplane had seen us from aloft! The two ships
lashed together would certainly have presented a strange scene, and
could have meant only one thing--a raider and her prize.
On the 11th we again saw and spoke to our _Hitachi_ friends on the
_Wolf_--the last opportunity we had of speaking to them. They all looked
well, but thin. They told us they had been informed that we were going
to Spain, and that the _Wolf_ with them on board was _not_ going to
Germany. Some of them believed this, and were comparatively joyful in
consequence. But it was only another case of German lies. On the next
day we crossed the Equator, and then for some days we saw the _Wolf_ no
more.
About this time I experienced a little trouble with one of the German
sailors. Most of them were courteous and kindly disposed, but one, a
boorish, loutish bully, who served us with drinks at table, was a
painful exception to this. His name was Fuchs: we sometimes called him
Luchs, by mistake, of course! But Fuchs did not think so--he strongly
objected to the other name! He had only one eye, and a black shade where
the other one should have been. To train his moustache to resemble that
of the All-Highest, he wore some apparatus plastered over it, reaching
nearly to his eyes and secured behind his ears, so that his appearance
was the reverse of prepossessing! I complained to him once about not
serving me properly. He waited outside the saloon and cursed me
afterwards. "I a German soldier," he said, "not your steward!" I told
him that if he had any reason to complain of what I had said or done he
should report me to his Captain, and that if he had not done so by six
that evening I should report him for insolence. Needless to say, he said
nothing to the Captain, so I reported him. The Captain at once thanked
me for doing so, called him up at once, and gave him a good wigging. I
had no more trouble with him afterwards.
On January 14th I approached the Captain and asked him if the Germans on
the _Wolf_, when they got to Germany, would have any means of finding
out whether we on the _Igotz Mendi_ had safely arrived in Spain. He
replied that they would. I then asked him whether, if we were all lost
on the _Igotz Mendi_ on her return voyage to Spain, the German
Government would inform the British Government of our fate. He replied
that would certainly be done. I further asked him whether we might send
letters to the _Wolf_ to have them posted in Germany in the event of our
not arriving in Spain. Most of us had to settle up our affairs in some
way, in case we might be lost at sea, and wished to write farewell
letters to our home people. Some of us, it will be remembered, had
already taken some steps in this direction before we were sent on to the
_Wolf_, as we thought it possible the _Wolf_ might become engaged with a
hostile cruiser. We ourselves had to write a farewell letter, among
others, to our daughter, born in Siam, from whom we had been separated
except for short periods of furlough spent in England, for twelve years.
It seemed very hard that after this long separation, and just when we
were looking forward to a joyful and fairly speedy reunion, we should
perhaps never see her again.
The Captain said we might write these letters, which would not be posted
if the _Igotz Mendi_ with us on board got back safely to Spain. "But,"
he added, "we have changed our plans, and now intend that you should be
landed in Norway. It will be safer for you all, and you will not have to
risk meeting our submarines in the Atlantic again. When we arrive in
Norwegian waters the German prize crew will be taken off the ship after
the _Wolf_ has got home, the ship will be handed over to the Spaniards,
and you will all be landed in Norway, from where you can easily make
your way to England." Here was quite a new plan--how much truth there
was in this declaration will be seen hereafter. From now onwards
definite promises began to be made to us concerning the end of our
captivity: "In a month you will be free," "The next full moon will be
the last you will see at sea," etc., etc.
We were now proceeding north every day, keeping in mid-Atlantic--always
well off the trade routes, though of course we crossed some on our way
north. The _Wolf_, naturally, was not looking for trouble, and had no
intention of putting up a fight if she could avoid it. She was not
looking for British warships; what we were anxious to know was whether
the British warships were looking for her! On the 19th the Captain again
thought he saw distant smoke on the horizon, and we careered about to
avoid it as before. But on this occasion we were running away from a
cloud! The next day we left the tropics, and with favourable weather
were making an average of about 180 knots daily. On several days about
this time, we passed through large masses of seaweed drifting from the
Sargasso Sea. We did not meet the _Wolf_ on the 22nd as our Captain
evidently expected to do, and we waited about for her several hours. But
next day we did meet her, and we were then told that in eighteen days we
should be ashore. We wondered where! We were then about 30° N., and we
parted from the _Wolf_ the same afternoon. It was always a great relief
to us all when we parted from her, keeping our ship's company of
prisoners intact. For the men amongst us feared we might all be put
upon the _Wolf_ to be taken to Germany, leaving our wives on the _Igotz
Mendi_. This, so we had been told, had been the intention of the
_Wolf's_ Commander when the prisoners were first put on the Spanish
boat. He had ordered that only women, and prisoners above sixty and
under sixteen should be put on the _Igotz Mendi_, but the German doctor,
a humane and kindly man, would have nothing to do with this plan and
declared he would not be responsible for the health of the women if this
were done. So that we owe it to him that wives were not separated from
their husbands during this anxious time, as the Commander of the _Wolf_
had inhumanly suggested.