May the Saints guard you and keep you through all the perils of war,
and grant that we meet again in the perfect peace of eternity.
For ever, Your devoted and adoring ZOE.
_Karl's Diary resumed._
She is dead!
They have killed her, my Zoe, my adorable darling, and I am still
alive--under close arrest. Perhaps they will shoot me too, in their
insatiable thirst for blood. Oh! if they would! Perhaps, my Zoe, if I
could only die and leave this useless world behind, I might find you in
the mysterious regions where your spirit now dwells.
Oh! is it well with you, Zoe? Give me a sign--a little sign--that all
is well. I have knelt in prayer and asked for a sign, but nothing
comes--all is a blank, forbidding and mysterious. Is God angry with us,
my Zoe, that we sinned before Him? Surely, surely He understands. He
must have mercy on me if He is going to make me go on living. If this
is my punishment, I can bear it; I will live without you happily if
only I may know that all is well with you.
* * * * *
Your letter, Zoe! Can you read these words as I write; can you sense my
thoughts? Speak! Ah! I thought I heard your voice, and it was only the
laughter of a woman in the street. Your letter has filled me with joy
and sorrow. I read and re-read the wonderful words in which you say you
loved me from the beginning, but when you plead that I shall not turn
in loathing from your memory--with these words you smash me to the
ground.
Most glorious woman, I never loved you so well and so passionately as
the day you stood at the trial, ringed round with the wolves, the
clever lawyers, the stolid witnesses, the ponderous books, the cynical
air of religious solemnity with which the machinery of the law thinly
cloaks its lust for blood--for a life.
Even when my ears heard the sentence, I could not believe it would be
carried out. The firing party, the chair, the bandage. Oh, God! spare
me these awful thoughts. To think of your breasts lacerated by
the----Oh! this is unendurable! Stop, madman that I am!
* * * * *
I am calmer now; I have read your letter again and rescued the journal
from the grate into which I flung it.
The fire was out; I am not sorry; my journal is all I have left, and in
its pages are enshrined small, feeble word-pictures of paradise on
earth. To read them is to catch an echo of the music we both loved so
well. Music! you were all music to me, my Zoe. Your voice, your
movements, your caresses all seemed to me to speak of music.
I ask myself, I shall always ask myself until the last hour, whether
all that could be done to save you was done. I tried to telegraph to
the Kaiser for you, Zoe, but the wire never got further than Bruges
post office; they stopped it, and put me under arrest. It was only open
arrest, my darling, and on that last awful night I forced them to let
me see the Governor. I, Karl Von Schenk, knelt at his feet and begged
for your life. He simply said, "You are mad." I left the Palace under
close arrest.
Was ever woman's nobleness of character so exemplified as in your life?
Be comforted, Zoe, that in all my black sorrow I cling desperately to
my pride in your strength. I long to shout abroad what you did and why
you would never marry me, to tell all the gaping world that when you
died a martyr to duty was killed. I am so unworthy of what you did for
me, my darling, and it tortures me with mental rendings to think that
whilst I prided myself in my strength of mind, I was dragging you
through the fires of hell. When I think of those six weeks we had
together, my brain says, "And they might have been months had you not
spurned her in the forest."
Oh, Zoe! if the priests say truth and all things are now revealed to
you, forgive me for this act of mine. Come to me in spirit and give me
mental peace.
[Illustration: "...when there was a blinding flash and the air
seemed filled with moaning fragments."]
[Illustration: "When I put up my periscope at 9 a.m. the horizon seemed
to be ringed with patrols."]
As I write like this, as if it was a letter that you might read, I am
comforted a little; I rely utterly on the hope, which I struggle to
change into belief, that you can read this and know my thoughts.
For when I think that had things been otherwise you might have been
leaning over my chair at this moment, and running your cool fingers
through my stiff hair; when I think of this, my darling, the full
realization comes to me of the gulf which must divide us for some
uncertain period, and the lines of this page run mistily before my
eyes.
Zoe, my Zoe, strange things have happened in this war; wives declare
they have seen their husbands, mothers have felt the presence of their
sons; if the powers permit, come to me once again, I implore you, and
give me strength to live my life alone.
* * * * *
Examined before the Court of Inquiry to-day. Fools! can't they realize
that I don't care if they do shoot me?
In the Mess, people avoid me. What do I care? Not one of them is worthy
to stand on the same soil that holds her beloved body. They have buried
her in the Castle grounds. In accordance with her wishes, I have
arranged for flowers. Perhaps one day when all this is over I may be
able to live here and tend the place where she sleeps, free at last
from all her cares.
* * * * *
At the Court of Inquiry they tried to cross-examine me on our life
together. Dolts! what do they aim at proving? That I loved you? I
hardly listened. When they finished the evidence, the President asked
me if I had anything to say! Anything to say! I felt like telling them
they were cogs in the most monstrous machine for manufacturing sorrow
and destruction that mankind had ever devised. I could have shaken my
fist in their solemn faces and shouted "Beasts! you murdered her! You
destroyed that most wonderful woman who lowered herself to love me."
Actually there was a long silence, and then the Vice-President, Captain
Fruhlingsohn, said, "Speak; we wish you well."
It was the first touch of sympathy, the only sign of humanity I had
received in all these awful days, and it touched my stubborn heart and
the longed-for tears flowed at last.
I murmured: "Gentlemen, I am no traitor; but I loved her as my own
soul."
"Dissolve the Court. Remove the prisoner." Like the clash of iron
gates, officialdom came into its own again.
* * * * *
So I am not to be shot! Not even imprisoned! "Don't fall in love with
enemy agents again!"--that summarized their verdict.
Ha! Ha! Ha! It is all horribly funny. The real reason is that they need
me. I am a trained and skilful slaughterer on the seas; I am an
essential part of the great machine. And they haven't got any spares! I
was in the Mess yesterday when the English papers we get from Amsterdam
arrived. Oh! a pretty surprise awaited the first man who opened _The
Times_. These English had published the names of 150 U-boat commanders
they had caught. There they all were. Christian names and all complete.
The only thing missing was a blank space in which to fill in our names
when the time comes.
Dinner was a silent meal last night, and next morning some rat of a
Belgian had posted the list on the gatepost of the Mess. The machine
has offered five hundred marks for his apprehension--how foolish; as if
by shooting him they would take any names off the long list.
* * * * *
I am to sail at dawn tomorrow. I shall not be sorry to get away for a
space from this place with its mingled memories of delight and death.
* * * * *
Back again, and I haven't written a word for three weeks.
My billet last trip was off Finisterre. I sighted two convoys, but
there were destroyers there; they are so black and swift I don't go
near them.
I don't want to die in a U-boat. It's not worth while. It is easy to
avoid these convoys. I dive and make a great fuss of attacking, then I
steer divergently. Nobody knows where the enemy is except me; I am the
only one who looks through the periscope--I take good care of that. And
then how I curse and swear when I announce that the convoy has altered
course, and there is no chance of getting in to attack. None of them
are so disappointed as I am!
The mines get on my nerves, there is no way of dodging them, and Lord!
how they sprout on the Flanders coast.
I am to go out in six days. It is very little rest. I believe they want
to kill me. But I won't die! Not I.
I went to her grave yesterday for the first time. I had thought I
should weep, but I did not; in fact it left me quite unmoved. I feel
she's not really dead; she comes to me sometimes, always at night when
I am alone and when we are at sea. There's nothing very tangible, but I
catch an echo of her voice in the surge of the sea along the casing, or
the sound of the breeze as it plays along the aerial. And so I will not
die until she calls me, for up to the present her messages have told me
to live and endure.
* * * * *
A very awkward incident took place last night. We were off the Naze and
saw a steamer some distance away.
We dived to attack. When we were about a mile away I had a look at her,
and something about her put me off. I half thought she was a decoy
ship, and I privately determined I would not attack. I steered a course
which brought me well on her quarter, and as soon as I saw that it was
impossible to get into position to fire I increased speed on the
engines and shook the whole boat in efforts which were ostensibly
directed to getting her into position. At length I eased speed and
bitterly exclaimed that my luck was out.
The First Lieutenant suggested that we should give her gunfire, but I
pointed out that I had good reason to suspect her of being a wolf in
sheep's clothing, and as he had not seen her he could hardly question
my judgment. I was going forward, when I accidentally overheard the
Navigator and the Engineer talking in the wardroom. I listened.
The Engineer said: "The Captain doesn't seem to have the luck he used
to command."
"Or else he has lost skill!" replied Ebert. "We never fired a torpedo
at all last trip, and it looks as if we are following that precedent
this time."
I had heard enough, and, without their realizing my presence, I
returned to the control room. I considered the situation, and came to
the conclusion that they suspected nothing, but it was evident that
their minds were running on lines of thought which might be dangerous.
I looked at my watch and saw that there was still two hours of daylight
left, and then decided to play a trick on them all. I relieved the
First Lieutenant at the periscope, and when a decent interval of about
half an hour had elapsed I saw a ship. This vessel of my imagination, a
veritable Flying Dutchman in fact, I proceeded to attack, and, after
about twenty minutes of frequent alterations of speed and course, I
electrified the boat by bringing the bow tubes to the ready.
The usual delay was most artistically arranged, and then I fired. With
secret amusement I watched the two expensive weapons of war rushing
along, but destined to sink ingloriously in the ocean, instead of
burying themselves in the vitals of a ship. An oath from myself and an
order to take the boat to twenty metres.
With gloomy countenance I curtly remarked: "The port torpedo broke
surface and then dived underneath her, the starboard one missed
astern."
So far all had gone well, but ten minutes later I nearly made a fatal
error. We had been diving for several hours, the atmosphere was bad,
and as it was dusk I decided to come up, ventilate, and put a charge on
the batteries. I gave the necessary orders, and was on my way up the
conning tower to open the outer hatch. The coxswain had just announced
that the boat was on the surface, when a terrible thought paralysed me,
and I clung helplessly to the ladder trying to think out the situation.
It had just occurred to me that as soon as the officers and crew came
on deck they would naturally look for the steamer we had recently fired
at; this ship in the time interval which had elapsed would still be in
sight.
As I came down, the First Lieutenant was at the periscope, looking
round the horizon. Quickly I thrust the youth from the eyepiece, and,
as calmly as I could, said: "I thought I heard propellers."
Half an hour later we surfaced for the night. I have been wondering
ever since whether they suspect, for the three of them were talking in
the wardroom after dinner and stopped suddenly when I came in.