On Wednesday, Dec. 13, four hundred of us prisoners were transferred
to the _Yarrowdale_ which had been cruising around in the wake of
the raider ever since she was captured. A few provisions having been
brought over from the raider, we parted company, and I was mighty glad
to see the last of her. I didn't know then what was awaiting me in
Germany.
On board the _Yarrowdale_ eighteen German guards under Lieut. Barowitz
were responsible for four hundred and sixty-two men, many of whom were
belligerents.
I have often heard people laugh at the idea of less than a score of men
subduing and holding several hundred, and taking a ship into port under
such conditions. Just listen to our predicament:
On the _Yarrowdale's_ bridge, one at either end, are two bombs, each of
them large and powerful enough to sink the ship. Lanyards are arranged
so that the commander can lower them over the side and explode them,
almost with a single movement of the hand.
In the engine room, placed at the most vital points, are three bombs
just as big and just as powerful. The German in command of the engine
room has orders to explode all three the second he receives a signal
from the bridge which has been agreed upon.
Beside the bombs, there are several boxes of hand grenades, always
guarded by one of the German sailors who is heavily armed. There never
are less than three Germans on the bridge--Barowitz, whom I believe
to be crazy as a March hare, usually sleeps there, if he ever sleeps
at all--and with these deadly weapons they could quickly quell any
disturbance which might arise on the deck by literally blowing us to
pieces. If we should succeed in overpowering the guards, Barowitz will
blow the vessel up.
The food was a little better than on the raider. As soon as we were on
board, Lieut. Barowitz "signed up" the Norwegian crew of the steamship
_Hallbjourg_, and it was they who manned the vessel. He then informed
us that we would be obliged to shift for ourselves so far as the
commissary was concerned.
"There is enough food for twenty-six days," he said. "And it has got to
last twenty-six days. And be careful that you don't skimp the German
guards. If you try to hold out food on them you'll find yourselves with
worse troubles than starvation."
And this cheerful admonition was carried out to the letter, you may
be sure, for Barowitz was a devil in uniform. No matter how long I
may live, I shall never forget the first two nights on this madman's
ship. The German guards tell us that Barowitz never leaves the bridge.
He doesn't sleep and he scarcely eats. He must be trying to get to a
certain point by a certain time, or cross some imaginary line before a
certain time. His German seamen don't know just what his idea is any
more than we do.