on the Cocos Island. I had fifty men, four machine guns, about thirty
rifles. Just as we were about to destroy the apparatus it reported:
'Careful; _Emden_ near.' The work of destruction went smoothly. The
wireless operator said: 'Thank God! it's been like being under arrest
day and night lately.' Presently the _Emden_ signaled to us: 'Hurry up.'
I pack up, but simultaneously wails the _Emden's_ siren. I hurry up to
the bridge, see the flag 'Anna' go up. That means 'Weigh anchor.' We ran
like mad into our boat, but already the _Emden's_ pennant goes up, the
battle flag is raised, they fire from starboard.
[Sidenote: The _Sydney_ traps the _Emden_.]
"The enemy is concealed by the island and therefore not to be seen, but
I see the shells strike the water. To follow and catch the _Emden_ is
out of the question; she's going twenty knots, I only four with my steam
pinnace. Therefore, I turn back to land, raise the flag, declare German
laws of war in force, seize all arms, set up my machine guns on shore in
order to guard against a hostile landing. Then I run again in order to
observe the fight. From the splash of the shells it looked as if the
enemy had fifteen-centimeter guns, bigger, therefore, than the
_Emden's_. He fired rapidly, but poorly. It was the Australian cruiser
_Sydney_."
"Have you heard?" Muecke suddenly asked in between, "if anything has
happened to the _Sydney_? At the Dardanelles maybe?" And his hatred of
the _Emden's_ "hangman" is visible for a second in his blue eyes. Then
he continues:
[Sidenote: The _Emden_ on fire.]
"According to the accounts of the Englishmen who saw the first part of
the engagement from shore, the _Emden_ was cut off rapidly. Her forward
smokestack lay across the ship. She went over to circular fighting and
to torpedo firing, but already burned fiercely aft. Behind the mainmast
several shells struck home; we saw the high flame. Whether circular
fighting or a running fight now followed, I don't know, because I again
had to look to my land defenses. Later I looked on from the roof of a
house. Now the _Emden_ again stood out to sea about 4,000 to 5,000
yards, still burning. As she again turned toward the enemy, the forward
mast was shot away. On the enemy no outward damage was apparent, but
columns of smoke showed where shots had struck home. Then the _Emden_
took a northerly course, likewise the enemy, and I had to stand there
helpless gritting my teeth and thinking: 'Damn it; the _Emden_ is
burning and you aren't on board!' An Englishman who had also climbed up
to the roof of the house, approached me, greeted me politely, and asked:
'Captain, would you like to have a game of tennis with us?'
[Sidenote: The fighting ships disappear.]
"The ships, still fighting, disappeared beyond the horizon. I thought
that an unlucky outcome for the _Emden_ was possible, also a landing by
the enemy on Keeling Island, at least for the purpose of landing the
wounded and taking on provisions. As, according to the statements of the
Englishmen, there were other ships in the neighborhood, I saw myself
faced with the certainty of having soon to surrender because of a lack
of ammunition. But for no price did I and my men want to get into
English imprisonment. As I was thinking about all this, the masts again
appear on the horizon, the _Emden_ steaming easterly, but very much
slower. All at once the enemy, at high speed, shoots by, apparently,
quite close to the _Emden_. A high, white waterspout showed among the
black smoke of the enemy. That was a torpedo. I see how the two
opponents withdrew, the distance growing greater between them; how they
separate, till they disappear in the darkness. The fight had lasted ten
hours.
[Sidenote: Muecke seizes a schooner.]
"I had made up my mind to leave the island as quick as possible. The
_Emden_ was gone; the danger for us growing. In the harbor I had noticed
a three-master, the schooner _Ayesha_. Mr. Ross, the owner of the ship
and of the island, had warned me that the boat was leaky, but I found it
quite a seaworthy tub. Now quickly provisions were taken on board for
eight weeks, water for four. The Englishmen very kindly showed us the
best water and gave us clothing and utensils. They declared this was
their thanks for our 'moderation' and 'generosity.' Then they collected
the autographs of our men, photographed them, and gave three cheers as
our last boat put off. It was evening, nearly dark. We sailed away.
After a short address, amid three hurrahs, I raised the German war flag
on 'S.M.S. _Ayesha_.'"
[Sidenote: The _Ayesha_ sails westward.]
"The _Ayesha_ proved to be a really splendid ship," Muecke continued, and
whenever he happens to speak of this sailing ship he grows warmer. One
notices the passion for sailing which this seaman has, for he was
trained on a sailing ship and had won many prizes in the regattas at
Kiel. "But we had hardly any instruments," he narrated, "we had only one
sextant and two chronometers on board, but a chronometer journal was
lacking. Luckily I found an old 'Indian Ocean Directory' of 1882 on
board; its information went back to the year 1780.
[Sidenote: En route to Padang.]
"At first we had to overhaul all the tackle, for I didn't trust to
peace, and we had left the English Captain back on the island. I had
said: 'We are going to East Africa.' Therefore I sailed at first
westward, then northward. There followed the monsoons, but then also
long periods of dead calm. Then we scolded! Only two neutral ports came
seriously under consideration: Batavia and Padang. At Keeling I
cautiously asked about Tsing-tao, of which I had naturally thought
first, and so quite by chance learned that it had fallen. Now I decided
for Padang, because I knew I would be more apt to meet the _Emden_
there, also because there was a German Consul there, because my schooner
was unknown there, and because I hoped to find German ships there and
learn some news. 'It'll take you six to eight days to reach Batavia,' a
Captain had told me at Keeling. Now we needed eighteen days to reach
Padang, the weather was so rottenly still.
[Sidenote: Life on board the _Ayesha_.]
"We had an excellent cook on board; he had deserted from the French
Foreign Legion. But with water we had to go sparingly, each man received
three glasses daily. When it rained, all possible receptacles were
placed on deck and the main sail was spread over the cabin roof to catch
the rain. The whole crew went about naked, in order to spare our wash,
for the clothing from Keeling was soon in rags. Toothbrushes were long
ago out of sight. One razor made the rounds of the crew. The entire ship
had one precious comb.
[Sidenote: A Dutch torpedo boat.]
"As at length we came in the neighborhood of Padang, on November 26, a
ship appeared for the first time and looked after our name. But the name
had been painted over, because it was the former English name. As I
think, 'You're rid of the fellow,' the ship comes again in the evening,
comes within a hundred yards of us. I send all men below deck. I
promenade the deck as the solitary skipper. Through Morse signals the
stranger betrayed its identity. It was the Hollandish torpedo boat
_Lyn_. I asked by signals, first in English, then twice in German: 'Why
do you follow me?' No answer. The next morning I find myself in
Hollandish waters, so I raise pennant and war flag. Now the _Lyn_ came
at top speed past us. As it passes, I have my men line up on deck, and
give a greeting. The greeting is answered. Then, before the harbor at
Padang, I went aboard the _Lyn_ in my well and carefully preserved
uniform and declared my intentions. The commandant opined that I could
run into the harbor, but whether I might come out again was doubtful."
[Sidenote: A German ship.]
"On the South Coast," interjected Lieutenant Wellman, who at that time
lay with a German ship before Padang and only later joined the landing
corps of the _Emden_, "we suddenly saw a three-master arrive. Great
excitement aboard our German ship, for the schooner carried the German
war flag. We thought she came from New Guinea and at once made all boats
clear, on the _Kleist_, _Rheinland_, and _Choising_, for we were all on
the search for the _Emden_. When we heard that the schooner carried the
landing corps, not a man of us would believe it."
[Sidenote: Supplies are refused.]
"They wanted to treat me as a prize!" Muecke now continued. "I said, 'I
am a man of war,' and pointed to my four machine guns. The harbor
authorities demanded a certification for pennant and war flag, also
papers to prove that I was the commander of this warship. I answered,
for that I was only responsible to my superior officers. Now they
advised me the most insistently to allow ourselves to be interned
peacefully. They said it wasn't at all pleasant in the neighborhood.
We'd fall into the hands of the Japanese or the English. As a matter of
fact, we had again had great luck. On the day before a Japanese warship
had cruised around here. Naturally, I rejected all the well-meant and
kindly advice, and did this in presence of my lieutenants. I demanded
provisions, water, sails, tackle, and clothing. They replied we could
take on board everything which we formerly had on board, but nothing
which would mean an increase in our naval strength. First thing, I
wanted to improve our wardrobe, for I had only one sock, a pair of
shoes, and one clean shirt, which had become rather seedy. My comrades
had even less. But the Master of the Port declined to let us have not
only charts, but also clothing and toothbrushes, on the ground that
these would be an increase of armament. Nobody could come aboard, nobody
could leave the ship without permission. I requested that the Consul be
allowed to come aboard. This Consul, Herr Schild, as also the Brothers
Baeumer, gave us assistance in the friendliest fashion. From the German
steamers boats could come alongside and talk with us. Finally we were
allowed to have German papers. They were, to be sure, from August. Until
March we saw no more papers.
[Sidenote: The German ship _Choising_.]
"Hardly had we been towed out again after twenty-four hours, on the
evening of the 28th, when a searchlight appeared before us. I think:
'Better interned than prisoner.' I put out all lights and withdrew to
the shelter of the island. But they were Hollanders and didn't do
anything to us. Then for two weeks more we drifted around, lying still
for days. The weather was alternately still, rainy and blowy. At length
a ship comes in sight--a freighter. It sees us and makes a big curve
around us. I make everything hastily 'clear for battle.' Then one of our
officers recognizes her for the _Choising_. She shows the German flag. I
send up light rockets, although it was broad day, and go with all sails
set that were still setable, toward her. The _Choising_ is a coaster,
from Hongkong for Siam. It was at Singapore when the war broke out, then
went to Batavia, was chartered loaded with coal for the _Emden_, and
had put into Padang in need, because the coal in the hold had caught
fire. There we had met her.
[Sidenote: The crew board the _Choising_.]
"Great was our joy now. I had all my men come on deck and line up for
review. The fellows hadn't a rag on. Thus, in Nature's garb, we gave
three cheers for the German flag on the _Choising_. The men on the
_Choising_ told us afterward 'we couldn't make out what that meant,
those stark naked fellows all cheering!' The sea was too high, and we
had to wait two days before we could board the _Choising_ on December
16. We took very little with us; the schooner was taken in tow. In the
afternoon we sunk the _Ayesha_ and we were all very sad. The good old
_Ayesha_ had served us faithfully for six weeks. The log showed that we
had made 1,709 sea miles under sail since leaving Keeling. She wasn't at
all rotten and unseaworthy, as they had told me, but nice and white and
dry inside. I had grown fond of the ship, on which I could practice my
old sailing manoeuvres. The only trouble was that the sails would go to
pieces every now and then because they were so old.
[Sidenote: The _Ayesha_ is sunk.]
"But anyway she went down quite properly, didn't she?" Muecke turned to
the officer. "We had bored a hole in her; she filled slowly and then all
of a sudden plump disappeared! That was the saddest day of the whole
month. We gave her three cheers, and my next yacht at Kiel will be named
_Ayesha_, that's sure.
[Sidenote: Turkey an ally of Germany.]
"To the Captain of the _Choising_ I had said, when I hailed him: 'I do
not know what will happen to the ship. The war situation may make it
necessary for me to strand it.' He did not want to undertake the
responsibility. I proposed that we work together, and I would take the
responsibility. Then we traveled together for three weeks, from Padang
to Hodeida. The _Choising_ was some ninety meters long and had a speed
of nine miles, though sometimes only four. If she had not accidentally
arrived I had intended to cruise high along the west coast of Sumatra to
the region of the northern monsoon. I came about six degrees north, then
over Aden to the Arabian coast. In the Red Sea the northeastern monsoon,
which here blows southeast, could bring us to Djidda. I had heard in
Padang that Turkey is allied with us, so we would be able to get safely
through Arabia to Germany.
"I next waited for information through ships, but the _Choising_ did not
know anything definite, either. By way of the _Luchs_, the _Koenigsberg_,
and _Kormoran_ the reports were uncertain. Besides, according to
newspapers at Aden, the Arabs were said to have fought with the English.
Therein there seemed to be offered an opportunity near at hand to damage
the enemy. I therefore sailed with the _Choising_ in the direction of
Aden. Lieutenant Gerdts of the _Choising_ had heard that the Arabian
railway now already went almost to Hodeida, near the Perim Strait. The
ship's surgeon there, Docounlang, found confirmation of this in Meyer's
traveling handbook. This railway could not have been taken over by the
Englishmen, who always dreamed of it. By doing this they would have
further and completely wrought up the Mohammedans by making more
difficult the journey to Mecca. Best of all, we thought, we'll simply
step into the express train and whizz nicely away to the North Sea.
Certainly there would be safe journeying homeward through Arabia. To be
sure, we hadn't maps of the Red Sea; but it was the shortest way to the
foe, whether in Aden or in Germany.
[Sidenote: On toward Aden.]
"Therefore, courage! Adenwards!"
[Sidenote: Through the Strait of Perim.]
"On the 7th of January, between 9 and 10 o'clock in the evening, we
sneaked through the Strait of Perim. That lay swarming full of
Englishmen. We steered along the African coast, close past an English
cable layer. That is my prettiest delight--how the Englishmen will be
vexed when they learn that we have passed smoothly by Perim. On the next
evening we saw on the coast a few lights upon the water. We thought that
must be the pier of Hodeida. But when we measured the distance by night,
3,000 meters, I began to think that must be something else. At dawn I
made out two masts and four smokestacks; that was an enemy ship, and,
what is more, an armored French cruiser. I therefore ordered the
_Choising_ to put to sea, and to return at night.
[Sidenote: Muecke's party enters Hodeida.]
"The next day and night the same; then we put out four boats--these we
pulled to shore at sunrise under the eyes of the unsuspecting Frenchmen.
The sea reeds were thick. A few Arabs came close to us; then there
ensued a difficult negotiation with the Arabian Coast Guards. For we did
not even know whether Hodeida was in English or French hands. We waved
to them, laid aside our arms, and made signs to them. The Arabs,
gathering together, begin to rub two fingers together; that means 'We
are friends.' We thought that meant 'We are going to rub against you and
are hostile.' I therefore said: 'Boom-boom!' and pointed to the warship.
At all events, I set up my machine guns and made preparations for a
skirmish. But, thank God! one of the Arabs understood the word
'Germans'; that was good.
"Soon a hundred Arabs came and helped us, and as we marched into Hodeida
the Turkish soldiers, who had been called out against us, saluted us as
allies and friends. To be sure, there was not a trace of a railway, but
we were received very well, and they assured us we could get through by
land. Therefore, I gave red-star signals at night, telling the
_Choising_ to sail away, since the enemy was near by. Inquiries and
determination concerning a safe journey by land proceeded. I also heard
that in the interior, about six days' journey away, there was healthy
highland where our fever invalids could recuperate. I therefore
determined to journey next to Sana. On the Kaiser's birthday we held a
great parade in common with the Turkish troops--all this under the noses
of the Frenchmen. On the same day we marched away from Hodeida to the
highland.
"Two months after our arrival at Hodeida we again put to sea. The time
spent in the highlands of Sana passed in lengthy inquiries and
discussions that finally resulted in our foregoing the journey by land
through Arabia, for religious reasons. But the time was not altogether
lost. The men who were sick with malaria had, for the most part,
recuperated in the highland air.
[Sidenote: To sea in sambuks.]
"The Turkish Government placed at our disposal two 'sambuks' (sailing
ships) of about twenty-five tons, fifteen meters long and four meters
wide. But in fear of English spies, we sailed from Jebaua, ten miles
north of Hodeida. That was on March 14. At first we sailed at a
considerable distance apart, so that we would not both go to pot if an
English gunboat caught us. Therefore, we always had to sail in coastal
water. That is full of coral reefs, however."
[Sidenote: One sambuk runs on a reef.]
"The Commander," Lieutenant Gerdts said, "had charge of the first
sambuk; I of the second, which was the larger of the two, for we had
four sick men aboard. At first everything went nicely for three days.
For the most part I could see the sails of the first ship ahead of me.
On the third day I received orders to draw nearer and to remain in the
vicinity of the first boat, because its pilot was sailing less
skillfully than mine. Suddenly, in the twilight, I felt a shock, then
another, and still another. The water poured in rapidly. I had run upon
the reef of a small island, where the smaller sambuk was able barely to
pass because it had a foot less draught than mine. Soon my ship was
quite full, listed over, and all of us--twenty-eight men--had to sit on
the uptilted edge of the boat. The little island lies at Jesirat Marka,
200 miles north of Jebaua. To be sure, an Arab boat lay near by, but
they did not know us. Nobody could help us. If the Commander had not
changed the order a few hours before and asked us to sail up closer, we
would probably have drowned on this coral reef--certainly would have
died of thirst. Moreover, the waters thereabouts are full of sharks, and
the evening was so squally that our stranded boat was raised and banged
with every wave. We could scarcely move, and the other boat was nowhere
in sight. And now it grew dark. At this stage I began to build a raft of
spars and old pieces of wood, that might at all events keep us afloat.
[Sidenote: The crew finally rescued.]
[Sidenote: Machine guns brought up.]
"But soon the first boat came into sight again. The commander turned
about and sent over his little canoe; in this and in our own canoe, in
which two men could sit at each trip, we first transferred the sick. Now
the Arabs began to help us. But just then the tropical helmet of our
doctor suddenly appeared above the water in which he was standing up to
his ears. Thereupon the Arabs withdrew; we were Christians, and they did
not know that we were friends. Now the other sambuk was so near that we
could have swam to it in half an hour, but the seas were too high. At
each trip a good swimmer trailed along, hanging to the painter of the
canoe. When it became altogether dark we could not see the boat any
more, for over there they were prevented by the wind from keeping any
light burning. My men asked 'In what direction shall we swim?' I
answered: 'Swim in the direction of this or that star; that must be
about the direction of the boat.' Finally a torch flared up over
there--one of the torches that were still left from the _Emden_. But we
had suffered considerably through submersion. One sailor cried out: 'Oh,
pshaw! it's all up with us now; that's a searchlight.' The man who held
out best was Lieutenant Schmidt, who later lost his life. About 10
o'clock we were all safe aboard, but one of our typhus patients, Seaman
Keil, wore himself out completely by the exertion; he died a week later.
On the next morning we went over again to the wreck in order to seek the
weapons that had fallen into the water. You see, the Arabs dive so well;
they fetched up a considerable lot--both machine guns, all but ten of
the rifles, though these were, to be sure, all full of water. Later they
frequently failed to go off when they were used in firing.
[Sidenote: Sami Bey becomes guide.]
"Now we numbered, together with the Arabs, seventy men on the little
boat, until evening. Then we anchored before Konfida, and met Sami Bey,
who is still with us. He had shown himself useful even before in the
service of the Turkish Government, and has done good service as guide in
the last two months. He is an active man, thoroughly familiar with the
country. He procured for us a larger boat, of fifty-four tons, and he
himself, with his wife, sailed alongside on the little sambuk. We sailed
from the 20th to the 24th unmolested to Lith. There Sami Bey announced
that three English ships were cruising about in order to intercept us. I
therefore advised traveling a bit overland. I disliked leaving the sea a
second time, but it had to be done."
[Sidenote: Travelling overland.]
"Lith is, to be sure, nothing but this," said Muecke, with a sweeping
gesture toward the desert through which we were traveling, "and
therefore it was very difficult to get up a caravan at once. We remained
aboard ship so long. We marched away on the 28th. We had only a vague
suspicion that the English might have agents here also. We could travel
only at night, and when we slept or camped around a spring, there was
only a tent for the sick men. Two days' march from Jeddah, the Turkish
Government, as soon as it had received news about us, sent us sixteen
good camels.
[Sidenote: An attack.]
"Suddenly, on the night of April 1, things became uneasy. I was riding
at the head of the column. All our shooting implements were cleared for
action, because there was danger of an attack by Bedouins, whom the
English here had bribed. When it began to grow a bit light, I already
thought: 'We're through for to-day'; for we were tired--had been riding
eighteen hours. Suddenly I saw a line flash up before me, and shots
whizzed over our heads. Down from the camels! Form a fighting line! You
know how quickly it becomes daylight here. The whole space around the
desert hillock was occupied. Now, up with your bayonets! Rush 'em! * * *
They fled, but returned again, this time from all sides. Several of the
gendarmes that had been given us as an escort are wounded; the machine
gun operator, Rademacher, falls, killed by a shot through his heart;
another is wounded; Lieutenant Schmidt, in the rear guard, is mortally
wounded--he has received a bullet in his chest and abdomen.
[Sidenote: A flag of truce and a barricade.]
"Suddenly they waved white cloths. The Sheik, to whom a part of our
camels belonged, went over to them to negotiate, then Sami Bey and his
wife. In the interim we quickly built a sort of wagon barricade, a
circular camp of camel saddles, rice and coffee sacks, all of which we
filled with sand. We had no shovels, and had to dig with our bayonets,
plates, and hands. The whole barricade had a diameter of about fifty
meters. Behind it we dug trenches, which we deepened even during the
skirmish. The camels inside had to lie down, and thus served very well
as cover for the rear of the trenches. Then an inner wall was
constructed, behind which we carried the sick men. In the very centre we
buried two jars of water, to guard us against thirst. In addition we had
ten petroleum cans full of water; all told, a supply for four days. Late
in the evening Sami's wife came back from the futile negotiations,
alone. She had unveiled for the first and only time on this day of the
skirmish, had distributed cartridges, and had conducted herself
faultlessly.
[Sidenote: Death of Schmidt and Rademacher.]