PLANS AND DREAMS
As the barometer had come down with a run two days before, so now it
went up with a run, till it stood in the neighbourhood of the two words
that every seaman reads with satisfaction, 'Set Fair.'
The sun shone brilliantly, a light north-westerly breeze played on the
water. The touch of spring, the contrast with our late experiences,
brought us all into the highest spirits.
To-morrow the die would be cast, our fate decided. Why should we not be
gay?
I held a council with my officers to discuss the plans for the next day.
We decided to alter our appearance during the night, by carrying from
the charthouse to the engine-room skylight a funnel-casing six feet
high, made out of wood and canvas, and painted the same colour as the
deck-houses. If any photographs had been taken of us, it would then not
be easy to recognise us by them. I intended also, the next morning, to
paint out the flags and the name on our side with black paint, and have
the funnel and ventilators painted yellow. I had decided to proceed in
under the Spanish flag. An appropriate funnel marking was looked up.
Supposing that we had really been betrayed, or had been reported by an
auxiliary cruiser, that would at least delay discovery.
If we got through unmolested, and the Irish were at the rendezvous
punctually, the landing of arms _must_ succeed. At this point we badly
felt the want of W.T. apparatus. How useful it would have been if we
could have got into communication with Tralee and asked 'if the coast
was clear.'[11]
I had been concerned to read in the _Berliner Zeitung_ just before
leaving, that there had been violent disorders in Dublin, and that
martial law had been proclaimed both over the city and the whole of the
east coast.
Was that mere folly on the part of the Irish, or was it an astute move,
designed to divert the attention of the English Government from the west
coast? I had, unfortunately, had no chance to ask Casement about that. A
remark I had once heard him let fall, now made me uneasy. What if the
Irish had struck their blow prematurely and now the west coast too had
been placed under martial law? That might quite possibly knock the
bottom out of our plans.
We should have to wait and see how things developed. For the present my
one concern was to carry out my orders--to be at the right place at the
right time. As the plan had originated with the Irish, it seemed to me
unthinkable that they should not have made all preparations for my
reception. Since they would time the rendezvous by the English
reckoning, I had the chronometer set to Greenwich mean time.
My plan for the next day was complete, and I could now turn to the
further questions, how should I get away again, and what should I do
afterwards? I had, at various times, given a good deal of thought to
this part of the enterprise, and had a complete plan ready. It was open
to me, of course, either to make for a neutral port, or to attempt to
return to Germany; but the plan I had determined on was something of a
more ambitious character than either of these. It was nothing more nor
less than to embark on the career of a commerce raider.
My sole real armament consisted of a single machine-gun, which I had
obtained permission to retain out of my cargo; but the reader must not
begin to laugh too soon.
The whole plan was a gigantic bluff, but I had succeeded in convincing
my at first incredulous chiefs of its feasibility. I intended, of
course, to avoid the larger, faster, and in many cases armed vessels,
and confine my attentions to the smaller fry, from, say, 3000 tons
downwards.
I intended to mount four dummy 10.5 cm. guns, and I had procured before
starting a supply of maroons. My plan was, when I fell in with a
suitable quarry, to summon her to stop, training one of the dummy guns
on her. If she hesitated I would fire a maroon, and it was ten to one
that the absence of a splash would not be noticed. If she was still
recalcitrant, the whistle of machine-gun bullets over her bridge would
show that we were in earnest. In nine cases out of ten I believe that
the bluff would have come off.
We had every facility on board, in the way of planking, paint, and
canvas, for altering our appearance, say, from a well-decked to a
flush-decked vessel, and we had an extensive outfit of national flags of
all descriptions. There was no reason why we should not emulate, on a
smaller scale, the exploits of the famous _Möwe_.
I determined now, on the eve of our Irish adventure, to take my men into
my confidence regarding this further enterprise, and they responded with
an enthusiasm which left nothing to be desired.
The day was not to pass without its moment of excitement. About 6 p.m.
the look-out suddenly reported 'Submarine! Four points on the port bow.'
'Full speed ahead!' 'Zigzag course! Look out for the wake of the
torpedo!'
We on the bridge had meanwhile sighted the dark object, moving about a
foot above the water. English? or German? That was the question. To make
certain I steered closer to it--1500, 1000, 800 yards. The next half
minute must decide; and it decided! The supposed periscope was an empty
preserved meat-tin, wandering at large over the waves.
The joke was hardly as funny to the look-out as to the rest of us; but,
after all, it was better to see too much than too little, for we were
close now to the steamer track, and not very far ahead lay the Irish
coast.
FOOTNOTE:
[11] One cannot help wondering whether Lieutenant Spindler thinks that
an unknown call-sign on the Irish coast would have attracted no
attention from the English authorities.