I have seen terrific storms at sea. I have been on ships where the
floor of the saloon was awash for days and nights at a time, but
never before have I been frightened. I am on this crazy ship with a
crazy skipper. Straight into the teeth of a ninety-mile gale we are
driving ahead at a speed which must be at least nine knots. This is
tremendous for a vessel like the _Yarrowdale_. Continually she sticks
her nose down, and her tail comes out of the sea and quivers as the
propellers spin. The boilers never got below 220. Barowitz meant what
he said. He knocked his own men down just as cheerfully as he did his
prisoners--frequently it seemed even more so.
After seemingly endless days on what had become a ship of terror, we
sighted Iceland. It was so cold and rainy most of the time that we had
not been able to take our airing on deck, but from the time we sighted
Iceland we were not allowed above, anyway. For four or five days and
nights we jockeyed around. Whenever we sighted a light at night or
smoke in the day-time we turned and ran.
We were likely to be fired on at any moment by a British patrol boat or
a submarine. We knew we were more than likely to bump a British mine,
and as we could not display our colors a German submarine might sink us
without warning--as they have been known to do. Finally, there were the
German mine fields ahead of us. At last one morning Barowitz came down
into our quarters. His face glowed all over and he rubbed his hands
with glee, for all the world like a money lender who had just driven a
hard bargain.
"We have got through the British patrol," he said. And it seemed to
give him more satisfaction to taunt us with the information than it did
to accomplish his purpose.
From that time on the attitude of Barowitz and his men changed toward
all Americans on board. Until then he had acted with some restraint
and the German sailors had been very friendly and courteous. Now that
they were nearing the Fatherland, they treated us with the greatest
disdain and superciliousness, heaped abuse on us and called us American
"swinehunds," which meant dirty dogs.
Well, about 9 o'clock one night we passed Bergen Light, and, in the
morning were lying in Ore-Sund which separates Denmark and Sweden. We
were certainly in neutral waters, for the sound was only three miles
wide, with Sweden on one side and Denmark on the other. Imagine, then,
our amazement when a German patrol steamed alongside and made fast.
That night I did not sleep a wink. All night long we would go ahead a
little distance then back off, then ahead once more, sometimes at full
speed, sometimes very slowly. If I had known what awaited us I think I
would have preferred to strike one of the German mines. But we didn't,
and shortly after daybreak we slid into the harbor at Swinemunde,
and the crew of the _Yarrowdale_ received one of the greatest naval
ovations I have ever witnessed. Flags were dipped in salute, guns were
fired and whistles shrieked. Barowitz went ashore and was feasted and
feted. I saw later in a German paper he was decorated and promoted to
the rank of Lieutenant.
What happened after we went ashore is subject for future stories. There
had been blood curdling experiences on board the _Yarrowdale_. They
were child's play compared to what we endured in Germany.