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GUN RUNNING FOR CASEMENT
* * * * * *
_NEW NOVELS_
MAINWARING MAURICE HEWLETT
THE BLACK DIAMOND F. BRETT YOUNG
REVOLUTION J. D. BERESFORD
THE LEPER'S BELL MASSICKS SPARROY
THE JOURNAL OF HENRY BULVER C. VEHEYNE
THE DEATH OF SOCIETY ROMER WILSON
* * * * * *
GUN RUNNING FOR CASEMENT IN THE EASTER REBELLION, 1916
by
Reserve-Lieutenant KARL SPINDLER
of the German Navy
Translated by
W. Montgomery, M.A. (Late Lieutenant R.N.V.R.)
and
E. H. McGrath, M.A.
[Illustration: Logo]
London: 48 Pall Mall
W. Collins Sons & Co. Ltd.
Glasgow Melbourne Auckland
Copyright, 1921
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. A CALL FOR VOLUNTEERS 1
II. THE MYSTERY SHIP 7
III. SIR ROGER CASEMENT AND THE IRISH PLANS 9
IV. 'MYSTERY' CARGO AND CAMOUFLAGE EQUIPMENT 13
V. THE 'LIBAU' SAILS--AND BECOMES THE 'AUD' 22
VI. UNDER FALSE COLOURS 26
VII. A DRESS REHEARSAL 30
VIII. IN ENEMY WATERS 35
IX. THE FIRST SIGN OF THE ENEMY 42
X. SOME EXCITEMENTS 45
XI. ON THE EDGE OF THE ARCTIC SEA 51
XII. RIGHT THROUGH THE BLOCKADE 54
XIII. OFF THE ROCKALLS IN A HURRICANE 69
XIV. AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE 78
XV. PLANS AND DREAMS 82
XVI. WE REACH OUR GOAL 86
XVII. TWENTY-FOUR HOURS IN TRALEE BAY 91
XVIII. UNWELCOME GUESTS 106
XIX. A STERN CHASE 123
XX. THE 'PHANTOM SHIP' IN A TRAP 132
XXI. WE PREPARE TO SINK OUR SHIP 144
XXII. THE SINKING OF THE 'LIBAU' 147
XXIII. A SECOND 'BARALONG?' 156
XXIV. LAWFUL COMBATANT OR PIRATE? 165
XXV. UNSUCCESSFUL ATTEMPTS AT ESCAPE 175
XXVI. A BOLDER PLAN 190
XXVII. THE ESCAPE 203
XXVIII. THE MISSING AERODROME 214
XXIX. RECAPTURE 226
XXX. THE PRIZE-COURT INQUIRY 236
CHAPTER I
A CALL FOR VOLUNTEERS
The date was the 21st of March, 1916.
It was the usual Wilhelmshaven prize weather, blowing great guns,
squalls chasing one another across the sea, grim, blue-gray clouds
scudding unceasingly across the sky, while the rain battered on the
window-panes and threatened at every fiercer gust to burst them in.
I was just in from a spell of outpost duty, and was looking forward to a
very comfortable day indoors, when some one hammered at the knocker.
It was an orderly, bringing an urgent message from my chief. I looked a
second time at the address; but there was no mistake about it. My chief
wished to see me at 5 p.m. As a rule, these formal invitations from the
great boded no good to the recipient. 'All the officers have had them,
sir,' said the orderly, who perhaps guessed my thoughts. Thank Heaven,
then, there was, at any rate, no need to worry as to what crime I had
committed. But I could not help wondering what was in the wind....
The long tramp in the streaming rain was well repaid.
Our flotilla had had orders to supply a volunteer crew--one officer,
five warrant and petty officers, and sixteen men--for special service,
an expedition about the goal and purpose of which nothing could for the
present, for military reasons, be allowed to become known. The utmost
despatch had been enjoined.
Every one of the officers, of course, was eager to go. At the end of the
interview my chief gave me a searching glance, and said, 'I have
proposed you for the command of this expedition. What have you to say to
that?' It need hardly be mentioned that I did not say No! It had long
been my keenest wish to see some service a little out of the ordinary,
and now my chance had come. I thought myself at that moment the luckiest
man on earth.
Even yet, however, I could not be told any particulars. But the facts
that the expedition was absolutely secret, that all the crew were to be
unmarried men, below a certain age, and that those without dependents
were to have the preference--all this pointed to an undertaking of a
very special nature indeed.
At five o'clock next morning, before taking out my half-flotilla on
patrol for the last time, I assembled the men and talked to them.
Purposely, though I myself as yet knew nothing definite, I laid the
utmost stress upon the dangers of the expedition, that they might not
make up their minds too hastily.
Not until I thought they had some idea of what they were in for, did I
give the order: 'Volunteers, three paces forward--march!'
It was a pleasure to see with what alacrity the men stepped forward, to
mark how the eager wish to take part in something big was to be read in
every eye. Those who held back were all married men, and even among them
there were some who took it hard to have to stay behind.
Even so, the choice was difficult enough. Each group of six boats was to
furnish so many men; and the whole crew of the 'mystery ship' was not,
for certain reasons, to exceed twenty-two.
After much sifting, the choice was at length made. Those chosen were
brave, trustworthy, and--a not unimportant point--powerfully built; each
one of them a match for two ordinary men.
After four days of uneventful outpost duty, we were back once more. Even
before returning I had received by signal the joyful news that my
appointment to the command of the _Libau_--that was to be the name of
the mystery ship--had been confirmed.
I lost no time, you may be sure, about proceeding in, locking through,
making fast in the inner harbour, and reporting on board the
leading-ship of the flotilla. The best of the volunteers from the other
sections were chosen, and the ship's company finally made up. The C.O.
of the flotilla, Commander Forstmann, bade us farewell in a short and
pithy speech; and then we set to at our packing, for by midday the next
day we were to be in the train, bound for a destination as yet unknown.
That was the sum of our knowledge, for everything was, so far, in Navy
phrase, 'extremely hush.' Neither our friends nor our comrades were to
know anything of what we had in hand, for a careless word might be
picked up by a spy, and might jeopardise the success of our undertaking,
to say nothing of costing us our lives.
Next day the train took us to our unknown destination--in fact, to
Hamburg. At the dockyard, where we were expected, our first surprise
awaited us, in the shape of our future abode. Not, as we had imagined,
some patrol boat fitted with all the newest devices, but what, to our
outpost-boat ideas, looked, as she lay before us in the evening light, a
truly imposing vessel. The chorus of exclamations which broke from my
gallant fellows showed that they were as agreeably disappointed as I was
myself.
She was not, of course, really 'an Atlantic liner,' as one of my men
called her, but on account of her lofty upper-works, and of her being
completely empty, she stood high out of the water, which considerably
increased her apparent size.
The _Libau_--why she received this name will be explained later--was an
almost new English steamer. Under the name _Castro_ she had formerly
belonged to the Wilson Line of Hull, and in the early days of the war
she had been brought in as a prize by one of our destroyers.
On board, everything was still in the same condition as when the English
crew abandoned her--a welter of oddments of various kinds, hastily
pulled-out drawers, papers, and so forth. The engines and boilers, which
had been overhauled by the dockyard people, and the living accommodation
for officers and men, which had likewise been re-conditioned, made by
contrast a quite satisfactory impression. On the bridge, on the other
hand, and in the chart-house--with us the holy-of-holies of every
ship--everything was rather neglected-looking. In an English tramp
steamer that did not, of course, surprise us.
After the necessary interviews, we formally took over the ship; and a
watch was set, to make sure that no unauthorised person found his way on
board.
We were to start next morning on the first stage of our voyage, and from
now on there was to be no leave, so we had plenty of time to shake down
into our new quarters, and with the small quantity of belongings that we
had with us that was soon accomplished--except in the case of two of our
number. The exceptions were the cook and steward, excellent fellows
both, all-round men, who were as useful on deck as in their own domains.
These latter, in the _Libau_, were from their point of view of a truly
magnificent spaciousness, for in the little outpost-boats they had been
accustomed to perform the mysteries of their office in the most cramped
of two-by-fours. In stormy weather, up to their knees in water, holding
their gear with both hands, and themselves by their eyelashes, they had
perforce adapted themselves to a painfully acrobatic existence. Now they
could spread themselves to their heart's content; and so they rattled
and rummaged, and arranged and rearranged their possessions, until far
into the night.
As for me, as I lay in my bunk that night I could not help recalling
how, a bare two years before, while still fourth-officer of a Lloyd
liner, I used often to picture to myself how splendid it would be to be
given the command of an ocean-going steamer, while one was still young
enough to enjoy it. At that time the goal of my desires seemed
infinitely distant. Now I stood on the threshold of their fulfilment.
That night I slept excellently--for the last time for many months.