LAWFUL COMBATANT OR PIRATE?
About 5 a.m. I was taken on deck. We were now at Milford Haven, on the
south-west coast of England. A strong escort of Marines, which had been
sent in all haste from Chatham, came to fetch us. A long, unpleasant
journey by special train then followed. Our food during the eighteen
hours' journey consisted of two slices of bread with a suggestion of
butter. I could not discover where we were going. At various stations
the people came to the carriage windows and shouted and spat at us, and
the officer in charge of the escort angrily drew the curtains. The
soldiers escorting us filled the passages of our two corridor carriages,
and when asked where we were going I heard them repeatedly answer, 'To
London. They are to be shot in the Tower!' This did not sound very
hopeful.
After midnight on a pitch-dark night we arrived in Chatham. We could see
nothing. All the lights were masked in consequence of a recent Zeppelin
raid. Nothing could be heard but the rattle of rifles and bayonets. Now
and then the silence was broken by a muffled word of command. We were
then surrounded by a squad of Marines and marched through the dark
streets to the barracks. We halted before a large building. My crew had
been taken off in another direction, only the first and second mates
remaining with me. We were taken up two flights of stairs.
All the proceedings had taken place in uncanny silence. Several cells
were opened. The middle one was mine. I had hardly crossed the threshold
when the door was again barred, and a heavy key turned in the lock. I
was left to myself.
Early next morning I received a visit from an Admiral and his A.D.C. As
a well-bred man and as the junior in rank, I saluted in curt military
fashion. But this gentleman did not consider it necessary to return my
salute, not even with his stick, as is the custom of most English
officers. I therefore answered his questions so curtly and evasively
that he soon left.
This day and the succeeding ones dragged heavily. I tried to while away
the time with physical exercises, but as I could not go on for ever with
these I was left most of the day to my reflections. Next night I chanced
to overhear a conversation between two of my guards, who were standing
directly opposite the peephole in my cell-door. They were speaking of an
attack on Lowestoft by the German Fleet. To my joy, I gathered from
their conversation that the English had suffered heavily.
Twenty times during the night a sentry came into my cell, in order to
make sure that I had not hanged myself, and went out again with a loud
rattle of keys. When I entered the cell my first thought was, 'How am I
to get out of this?' But I was soon convinced that there was not the
slightest possibility of escape. I had not even that most necessary of
all tools, a knife. At meals (which were good and abundant) I was given
only a spoon.
The most unpleasant feature of this captivity was that I had too much
time to think about our ultimate fate. I had no idea what was happening
outside, or what was to happen to my men and myself. I had discovered
that the room on my right was occupied by the officer of the guard, and
that on my left by the sergeant of the guard. Farther on, on each side,
were the cells of the first and second mates. It was therefore
impossible to communicate with them by tapping on the wall.
Next morning when I got up all my clothes had vanished, uniform, linen,
shoes--in fact, everything I had taken off. I was just about to knock
and ask the explanation when an English petty-officer appeared and
explained to me that my things were still in the tailor's and
shoemaker's shops, and that they were being sewn together again. He told
me they had taken everything apart during the night and had discovered a
large quantity of English, Norwegian, and Danish banknotes in our
clothes. It would count against me that I had sewn my money in the
lining. They had unfortunately found no secret documents, he added
regretfully. This put all possibility of bribing our guards out of the
question. It was what you might call very hard luck. As soon as I was
dressed I was taken downstairs. The escort was already waiting to take
us to the railway station. On the way to the station we were joined by
my crew with another escort. I was glad to see that they were in good
spirits. They had no idea yet what was on foot.
The Chatham mob behaved so badly to us that the escort were repeatedly
forced to interfere. We went by train to London, and were taken from the
station in two open motor-lorries. The whole business reminded me of
cattle being taken to the slaughterhouse. A halt was made at Scotland
Yard, the headquarters of the English Police, where we were to be
examined. A big crowd received us with abuse and threatening language.
As was to be expected, our reception at Scotland Yard was icily cold and
unfriendly. I was at once taken before the high officials of the
Admiralty. Three sides of the big room were occupied by naval officers.
General Staff officers, police officials, and detectives. The
Commissioner of Police for London was also present. Commander Brandon
and his colleague Captain French,[17] who, some time ago, spent several
years in a German prison after being convicted of espionage, acted as
interpreters and members of this court. As Captain French translated not
only badly but also intentionally wrong, I refused his mediation and
henceforward spoke in English.
Each of us was examined separately. Of course, we 'fooled them to the
top of their bent.' They tried by every possible means to pump us by
kindliness and by threats of the meanest description.
My men naturally told them the same fairy-tales as I. Even comic
interludes were not lacking. For instance, one of the crew when asked
where the German Fleet was, answered, after some reflection, 'Yes, I can
tell you exactly. It has been at sea for a long time looking for the
English Fleet, but so far has not been able to find it.' The English did
not take the remark very kindly, for which we could hardly blame them.
Right at the beginning of the examination I expressly told the President
of the Tribunal, a naval captain, that he need not expect a single word
from me or my men which would prejudice German interests. As he
continued, in spite of this, to ply us with questions, he need not have
been surprised if we answered falsely.
Unfortunately, it became quite clear in the course of the examination
that the English not only had got wind of the arrival of the _Libau_,
but also possessed exact information on practically every detail. Their
information on the preparations for the expedition were particularly
accurate.
There were traitors and spies at work! I cudgelled my brains in vain to
think where they had got their information. From what the English told
me of my sojourn in the different German ports and in Berlin, I
concluded that a male or female spy was following every step I took at
that time. It was a complete mystery to me. In answer to repeated
questions about Sir Roger Casement, I answered each time that I did not
know the man at all, whereupon they read out to me out of a big file
some passages which were word for word identical with my secret orders!
I had, personally, burned my copy of the orders. They must, therefore,
possess the only extant copy. Casement's!
Should I continue to deny all knowledge?--I reflected for a moment. Yes,
in the interests of my men I must; for I judged by the conduct of the
English that they intended to treat my crew and myself in the same
illegal manner.
That Casement was a prisoner I already knew, but I did not know where he
was imprisoned. The English captain told me--probably as a bluff--that
Casement was a prisoner in the next room, and that I should be
confronted with him in a few minutes. There was no further object, he
said, in my denying knowledge of the business as Casement, in order to
save his neck, had betrayed everything! I had to pull myself together in
order to conceal the effect on me of this statement. Luckily I kept my
head. Bluff against bluff! Only the utmost assurance could help me now.
So I answered in a quiet tone that I should be glad to be confronted
with him at once, so that the officers could see for themselves that we
were strangers.
It was a risky game I was playing. If Casement had really betrayed
everything we were lost. If not, my effrontery might perhaps save the
situation. The English, taken aback, looked at one another for a moment;
and then all turned their eyes on me; they wished to note what effect
Casement's name had on me. A long, uncomfortable pause followed, during
which I made every effort to preserve an attitude of indifference. At
last the examination came to an end. And--nothing more, either then or
later, was heard about confronting me with Casement! The manner in which
the English conducted the inquiry provoked me several times to declare
that they should not forget they were dealing with a German officer and
German sailors. I had told them that I had sealed orders which were not
to be opened till we had left German waters, so that my crew knew
nothing about our objective when they followed me. The English captain
was intensely angry with me for having carried out these orders. I
ought, he said, as soon as I had read them, to have turned back at once
and refused to carry out such a commission! The only way I could answer
such a disgraceful suggestion was with a contemptuous shrug and with the
remark that such a thing might be possible in England, but not in
Germany, where every soldier at once carries out every order of his
superior officers without moving an eyelid.
After this interrogation I was taken to an adjoining room, carefully
guarded by several detectives. The English had not been able to prove
that secret intercourse had taken place between us and the Irish in
Tralee. They may therefore have come to the conclusion that they could
not, as they had threatened, shoot or hang us without a gross violation
of international law. They therefore looked round for some other excuse
to vent their anger on me and catch me. They soon found one, and when I
was again brought in the English captain explained to me that I must be
shot because I had blown up my ship after I had been taken prisoner!
This, of course, was nonsense. When I followed the English cruiser to
Queenstown I was by no means a prisoner; I was simply a neutral obeying
their command because no other course was open to me.
Nevertheless, the English captain continued to point out that they were
not violating international law, but that we ourselves had violated
international law by misuse of a neutral flag. We could not, therefore,
claim to be treated as lawful combatants, and must expect the treatment
always meted out to pirates, hanging or shooting. As before, when on
board the _Bluebell_, I tried the effect of the threat that the German
Government would make reprisals. Then the inquiry ended. Before I was
led away, however, the captain informed me that he could no longer
regard me as an officer, as I had not told him the truth! These English
really had a very naïve conception of a German officer's honour and
sense of duty.
When I arrived in Chatham I soon found that the English captain had not
spoken empty words. The treatment which I now received left much to be
desired. Of the much-vaunted chivalrousness of the English towards their
captive enemies I saw no trace.
For several days we remained in this solitary confinement without
knowing what our fate was to be. None of us will ever forget these days
of anxious uncertainty. I was examined several times in my cell also.
From the ever-increasing strictness of the guards, their constant
whispering, the sidelong looks they gave me when they thought they were
observed, I concluded that we were in a very serious position.
On four successive nights Zeppelin attacks were made on London, and
Chatham also got its share. The excitement of the English, when it was
announced, 'The Zepps are coming,' can hardly be described. My nerves
had gradually become so dulled that I hardly took any notice of the
attacks.
After long, anxious days, we were released from this nerve-racking
confinement. I had already given up all hope. An escort came early one
morning for us and took us first to London and then to an officer
prisoner-of-war camp. I learned that the rest of the crew had been moved
the day before. When, after a long railway journey, we arrived at Castle
Donington, near Derby, we at last discovered that we were being taken to
Donington Hall Camp. So they had realised that they could prove no
charge against us. All the same, I was not convinced of this until I saw
German uniforms moving about in the distance inside the camp. Until that
moment I had been ready for any new, unpleasant surprise; for this time
the escort, contrary to previous custom, had been provided with
handcuffs.
The road to the camp took a good half-hour, and then the great gates
closed behind us with a loud bang. A large number of English officers
and Tommies took us into their keeping as 'very dangerous criminals.'
Shortly after my arrival at Donington Hall the court-martial on Roger
Casement began, lasting for several months and ending with his
condemnation. During this time the voyage of the _Aud_ was the subject
of constant inquiries on the part of the Government and the Press.
As I learned, partly through the inquiry proceedings, and afterwards
from the commander of the U-boat, Sir Roger Casement had reached Tralee
Bay late on the evening of our arrival. The U-boat had seen from a
distance in the dark the outline of the _Aud_ at Innistooskert, but
mistook it for an English destroyer. Thereupon Casement, despairing of
the arrival of the _Aud_, went ashore in a collapsible boat and was
arrested next morning by the English who were waiting for him. His
arrest had caused so much excitement among the Irish that no one dared
to get into communication with us. But Casement's arrest caused the
outbreak of the Irish revolution. As, however, the Irish lacked the most
necessary things, rifles and heavy artillery, the revolution, bloody and
serious as it was, could only fail. Sir Roger Casement was sentenced to
be hanged. On the 3rd of August the sentence was carried out. The
brilliant defence which Casement made had been of no avail. He died
every inch a man, and with the consciousness that the idea for which he
had fought and suffered would sink deeper in the hearts of the Irish and
bring them nearer to freedom.
FOOTNOTE:
[17] _sic._--Translator.