[Illustration: CAPTAIN CAMERON AND HIS DAUGHTER NITA]
TEN MONTHS IN A
GERMAN RAIDER
A Prisoner of War Aboard the _WOLF_
BY
CAPTAIN JOHN STANLEY CAMERON
Master of the American Bark _Beluga_
_ILLUSTRATED_
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
_Copyright, 1918,
By George H. Doran Company_
_Printed in the United States of America_
INTRODUCTION
Captain John Stanley Cameron, master of the American bark _Beluga_,
who tells the story of his great adventure on board the German raider
_Wolf_, and subsequently on the prize ship _Igotz Mendi_, in this
volume, is of Scotch parentage, thirty-four years old; a smooth-shaven,
canny graduate of the "before the mast" school, and prematurely gray.
His father is a well-known figure on the Pacific Coast, being the
oldest sailing master living in his part of the world.
Captain Cameron went to sea at the age of three. At thirteen he was
earning his living as an able-bodied seaman, and he has been a master
of sailing vessels since he was twenty-one. He figured in the news
some few years ago by taking a sailing yacht of seventy-four tons
from New York to San Francisco; the smallest vessel of her class to
beat through the Straits of Magellan. Since then, Captain Cameron has
retired from sea--until his last trip as master of the _Beluga_.
In setting down Captain Cameron's story much as it came from his
own lips, I have treated it as a simple record of human experience,
avoiding any chance of spoiling this bully sea yarn by attempting to
give it a literary finish.
CYRIL BROWN.
ILLUSTRATIONS
CAPTAIN CAMERON AND HIS DAUGHTER NITA _Frontispiece_
PAGE
THE GERMAN AUXILIARY CRUISER _Wolf_ 22
SHOWING "MANNLICHER" TYPE TORPEDO TUBE 48
FINAL DIVE OF JAPANESE STEAMER _Hitachi Maru_ 48
SHOWING 4.7 "ORDINARY" PORTSIDE GUN 68
BURIAL OF A. JOHNSON, SECOND OFFICER
ON AMERICAN BARK _Beluga_ 114
LAST OF THE AMERICAN BARK _William Kirby_ 130
AMERICAN SCHOONER _Winslow_ 148
THE BLOWING UP OF AMERICAN SCHOONER _Winslow_ 148
_Igotz Mendi_ ASHORE ON THE DANISH COAST 162
LIFE-BOAT LEAVING BEACH FOR THE
STRANDED _Igotz Mendi_ 162
PART ONE: CAPTURED BY PIRATES
TEN MONTHS IN A GERMAN
RAIDER
PART ONE
CAPTURED BY PIRATES
Little did I dream when I sailed away from San Francisco in the little
bark _Beluga_ that I should finish my voyage, not in Australia after a
two months' trip, but in Denmark, on the other side of the world, after
a ten months' experience that has never before been equalled in the
annals of sea-going history.
My story could well be called "An Escape from the Jaws of Hell"--for
a prisoner's life in Germany under the present conditions is surely a
hell on earth. During my six weeks' stay in Denmark I have interviewed
neutral sailors who have been sent out of Germany, and old men who have
been passported out on account of extreme old age; also prisoners who
have escaped over the border into Denmark via the coal-train route, and
these men one and all paint a picture of a prisoner's life in Germany
as being a veritable hell on earth.
We sailed from San Francisco on the 15th day of May, 1917, with a cargo
of 15,000 cases of benzine, for Sydney, Australia. After letting go
the tug boat and getting sail on the ship, we all settled down for a
quiet and uneventful passage. Seldom have I gone to sea under more
favourable circumstances. A tight little vessel, a good deep water
crew of Scandinavian sailor men, plenty of good wholesome provisions
and a cook who knew his business. Both the first and second mates were
officers of the old school, with years of experience, so it seemed that
I was fortunate in getting so evenly balanced a crew, as owing to the
frenzied state of shipping along the Pacific Coast at that time the
master was indeed fortunate who found on getting to sea that half of
this crew could box the compass, much less hand, reef and steer.
Even under these favourable circumstances there was a "fly in the
ointment." On counting noses I made the discovery that the entire
ship's company amounted to thirteen (an unlucky number, as every "salt"
will testify). A ship's crew of eleven, counting myself, and two
passengers, my wife and little daughter. When I called this fact to
my wife's attention she laughed at me, saying that was "old sailor's
tommyrot" and that we were living in the twentieth century and should
have outgrown such silly superstitions. Nevertheless, owing to a strain
of Scotch blood in my veins, the superstition remained in my mind for
many days until, owing to the humdrum uneventfulness of our progress,
this thought died a natural death.
I crossed the equator well to the westward, passing the Fiji Islands
and hoping that when I ran out of the southeast trade winds I would get
a favourable wind and cut close by the southern ends of New Caledonia.
I had a hunch, and if I had been lucky and had two days' favourable
wind this story would never have happened. But unfortunately,
unfavourable winds were encountered, forcing me to the southward and
into the regular sailing vessel route.
My wife, an Australian girl by birth, had not been home to see her
family since she left them something over ten years ago, and naturally
was very anxious to get home and see her many brothers and sisters who
had grown up and married since she left. In fact, she had talked of
nothing else for the past several years. Each year I promised that we
would make the visit "next year," but something or other would show
up and spoil my plans. I had given up the sea about six years ago for
a "shore job," and was so well pleased with the change that I did not
care to go back to the sea again, fearing that I would not be able to
change from the sea to the shore life again, as there is something
about the sea that gets into the blood and makes it difficult to
stay away from it. It was only then an unusual chain of circumstances
that left me foot loose at this particular time to take charge of the
_Beluga_ on this trip. The fact is, it was what my wife called the
"Scotch Jew" in me that finally decided me to take this means of making
money out of visiting the mother-in-law.
Each day at noon when I placed the vessel's position on the chart, my
wife was a very interested spectator and used to measure the distances
that remained for us to go. Then she would figure out just how long it
would take, under various weather conditions, before she would be able
to see her beloved Australia again. Some days when we had a favourable
wind and had made a good day's run in the right direction, she would be
as happy as could be and singing all the time, but other days when we
had made but little progress she would be away down in the dumps, and
it would be extremely difficult to get a smile.
On July 9th I was having some work done aloft on one of the masts,
when about two o'clock in the afternoon Fritz, a Norwegian sailor
working aloft, shouted down, "Smoke, oh, on the port beam." I had a
look through my binoculars, and, sure enough, on the horizon to the
southwest I could make out the smoke of a steamer. The weather at
this time was fine and clear, with a light breeze from the south and
we were making only about four knots per hour. In a short time it
became evident that the steamer was coming in our direction, as she
was gradually getting larger and more plainly seen. I shouted down the
cabin skylight to my wife to come on deck and see the steamer, as she
was the only vessel of any description we had seen since leaving San
Francisco, almost two months before. She and Juanita, my six-year-old
daughter, scampered on deck and were very much interested in watching
her. It soon became evident that the steamer was going to pass close to
us, and thinking it just possible that she would speak us, my wife and
Nita went below to change their frocks.
The steamer was getting closer by this time and her hull was plainly
visible. The old superstition regarding the unlucky number "thirteen"
flashed through my mind but was instantly dismissed. To all appearances
she was the ordinary black-painted, dingy-looking ocean tramp. I
studied her intently through the glass, trying to discover some detail
that would show her nationality, and had just about concluded that she
must be a Jap when Mr. Buckert, my Chief Officer, came along to where I
was standing and asked if I could make her out. I told him she appeared
to be either a British or Jap tramp, and handed him the binoculars so
that he could have a look. After studying her for a while he said,
"By God, Captain, I don't know her nationality, but she carries the
largest crew I have ever seen." I snatched the glasses out of his hand
and had a look. Sure enough, by this time the rails both forward and
aft were black with men in the regulation man-of-war jumpers. Even at
this time I did not think she was a German, but possibly a British
armed merchantman, or a British converted auxiliary cruiser, sent from
Australia to some of the South Sea islands for patrol duties. However,
she soon showed her true colours.
Suddenly she changed her course, heading to pass directly under my
stern. At this moment she broke out the German Imperial Navy Ensign
at her jackstaff aft and at her signal yard amidships she showed the
letters G.T.E., which interpreted from the International Signal Code
means "Heave to and I will send a boat on board." After giving me time
to read this signal, possibly two minutes, the steamer dropped her
bulwarks forward, uncovering her guns, and fired a shot across the
_Beluga's_ bow. This dispelled any lingering doubt I had in my mind as
to what was wanted, and it didn't take us long to clew up our light
sails and throw the main yard about.
It was only then that I actually realised that my little vessel had
been stopped by a German raider in the South Pacific Ocean almost
fifteen thousand miles from the war zone. I stepped to the forward
end of the quarterdeck and looked down at the crew on the main deck
to see how they seemed to be taking it. These Scandinavian sailor men
were standing on the waist, smoking their pipes and discussing the
appearance of the steamer, just as if to be captured by an enemy's
raider were an every-day occurrence. For myself, I knew that this day
marked a crisis in the lives of any of us that were American or British
born, and as for my wife and child--God, the thought was like a stab
in the heart and seemed to leave me numb and cold. In a moment there
flashed through my mind all the accounts I had read in the papers
of the German atrocities towards women and children in Belgium and
barbarisms practised along the Russian front, and the thought of my
wife and child being at the mercy of these people nearly drove me crazy.
On walking aft I saw my wife leaning up against the wheelhouse, her
face absolutely bloodless and a look of horror in her eyes that fairly
chilled my blood. God! For months after I could see this expression in
her eyes every time I closed my eyes. Even now, when I think of it, it
makes me feel cold all over. When she saw me she came over and took my
hand in hers, looking all the time into my eyes and not saying a word.
We stood there for what seemed a century. Presently I called Juanita
to us and the three of us went down below to the cabin. We sat on the
settee, never saying a word, and poor little Nita started to sob,
feeling something sinister in the air, which she did not understand.
In a minute the mate came to the cabin skylight and sang out that the
launch would be alongside in a minute. I answered "All right." My wife
got up and walked over to the bed and took one of my revolvers (I had
two) from under the mattress and handed it to me.
Suddenly she threw both her arms around my neck and drew my head into
such a position that she could look into my eyes, and said, "Stanley, I
want you to promise me that they will never get Juanita." I threw both
my arms round her, hugging her tight to myself, and said, "Mamie, I
promise; but you must leave it to me." And with a sob I left her and
started on deck. When passing through the wheelhouse, I stopped for a
moment to pull myself together. On going on deck I saw a small motor
launch just arriving alongside, crowded with German bluejackets, armed
to the teeth. A moment more, and a young lieutenant sprang onto the
deck and came aft to the quarterdeck where I was standing. Coming to a
stand in front of me he saluted and asked in excellent English, with
an American accent, "Are you the captain of this vessel?" I answered,
"Yes." "Where are you from?" was his next question. I told him San
Francisco to Sydney, Australia, fifty-two days out. "Captain," he said,
"I take charge of your vessel in the name of the German Imperial Navy."
He gave an order in German and two German sailors sprang to the flag
halyards and hauled down the Stars and Stripes and ran up the German
Ensign. They carefully saved the American flag and the Company's
burgee and took them aboard the _Wolf_ afterwards as trophies. Our crew
meantime had been lined up and searched for weapons. Among the things
the boarding crew brought on board was a black case containing twenty
pairs of handcuffs and three large bombs to blow the vessel to pieces
with. They didn't need the handcuffs, however.
After the lieutenant had gone through the ship's papers and found out
all particulars regarding the _Beluga's_ cargo, he had his signal
men wigwag the information to the Commander of the _Wolf_, which was
standing by. The Commander, on finding out that I had a cargo of
benzine, decided not to sink the vessel immediately, but to take on
board some three hundred cases for use in their hydroplane, as their
supply was getting low.
[Illustration:
THE GERMAN AUXILIARY CRUISER, RAIDER AND MINE LAYER "WOLF" LEAVING KIEL
ON HER FIFTEEN-MONTH CRUISE, NOVEMBER 21ST, 1916]
In a short while we received instructions from the _Wolf_ to proceed
due east for sixty miles and wait there for them. The _Wolf_ then left
us, going off at right angles. I learned from some of the German
sailors that there was a large steamer approaching and that the _Wolf_
would probably run along parallel with her during the night and capture
her in the morning. About nine-thirty that night this steamer passed us
about a mile and a half off, heading to the southward and westward.
She was apparently a large steamer of about seven or eight thousand
tons, heavily loaded. She resembled in appearance the type of vessel
used on the Pacific Coast as an oil tanker, having the high forecastle
head, long bunk deck amidships, and her engines and stack away aft; she
was probably a freighter of this description belonging to New Zealand,
bound from San Francisco to Australia. When she came abreast of us she
signalled by Morse Code, asking what vessel we were; but the German
prize crew took good care that none of us could answer or make any
signals of any kind. I can use both Continental and Morse and had a
signal lamp on board, so that if I had had an opportunity I could have
warned this steamer that there was a raider about.
One of the first official acts by Lieutenant Zelasko after taking
charge of my vessel was to call the cook up on the quarterdeck where he
was standing and give him instructions to cook a good large meal for
his men, and not to forget to have plenty of white bread. To assist him
in preparing this meal for the unwelcome addition to our family, he
assigned one of his men as an assistant in the kitchen.
In the meantime the balance of his crew were searching the vessel and
making an itemized list of everything that they thought would be worth
transferring to the _Wolf_. I had a chance to look over this list later
on and was surprised to find how complete and businesslike it was. It
gave the name of the article, the amount, where located, and a remark
as to how best to remove it, whether in the original package, to be
repacked, or carried in bulk in large canvas sacks, furnished by the
_Wolf_ for that purpose. This is only one incident showing the method
and thoroughness with which even the minor details of their business
were carried out.
During the evening I had a chance to get acquainted with Lieutenant
Zelasko, the prize officer, and found him a very decent chap indeed.
He, and all the rest of the _Wolf's_ officers, excepting the Commander
and the Artillery Lieutenant, were members of the Imperial Marine, or
Naval Reserve, men that in peace time commanded and served as officers
in the merchant service, like myself. In fact, I found that Lieutenant
Zelasko had served part of his time as able-bodied seaman on the
American ship _Roanoke_, a vessel that I had been in some years before.
He had the second class Iron Cross which he had won at Antwerp.
Lieutenant Zelasko assured me on his word of honour that my family
would receive nothing but the best of care possible under the
circumstances on board the _Wolf_. In fact, after finding out that the
_Wolf_ was manned by ex-merchant marine officers and men, my fears
for the safety of my wife and little girl subsided greatly. My wife
herself cheered up a great deal after hearing this, thinking that
people from our own walk of life could not be as barbarous as we had
been led to believe.
Early in the morning of the tenth we arrived at the position where
we were to wait for the _Wolf_. Here we hove to, and the prize crew,
assisted by my sailors, who were forced to do all the work pertaining
to the handling of the ship, took off the hatches and took on deck
three hundred cases of benzine, ready to be transported to the _Wolf_
when she showed up. During all this time there were always five or six
guards or sentries posted at various positions around the ship, and
also the balance of the prize crew always wore their side arms, whether
they were working or not.
The navigating officer of Zelasko's prize crew and the bo'swain were
both American navigators, one having been, prior to the war, master of
a sailing vessel plying on the Atlantic Coast, and the other a Chief
Mate, also in sail, on the Atlantic. At the outbreak of the war both
resigned their positions and went home to lend Kaiser Bill a hand.
These fellows received eighteen marks per month and have a rating
of only "over matrosa," or just one step higher than that of common
sailor. Several months later, after we had got better acquainted, I
asked this ex-American skipper if he did not think it rather a scurvy
trick to sail as Master on American ships during peace times and as
soon as war was declared to leave America and help sink the very class
of ships that he had hitherto made his living on. He replied by saying
that at the time he resigned and went home to enlist America was not
in the war, but even had she been, he would have gone just the same.
From conversations I had with other ex-American seamen, I am led to
believe that at the outbreak of hostilities the German Consuls at the
port where their vessels hailed from ordered these men to resign and
go home to the Fatherland. I also believe that their fare and expenses
were paid. There are many, many cases similar to this, and I believe
it would be a good thing for the American shipowners to remember when
employing officers and captains to man their vessels after the war is
over.
The German prize crew made a great fuss over Juanita, she being quite
a novelty to them, and I am sure that she had the time of her life.
Nobody on board the _Wolf_ had seen a woman or a child for nearly nine
months. My wife and little girl were the first woman and child they had
taken prisoner.
On July 11th, early in the morning, the _Wolf_ picked us up again. It
seems that the steamer we saw got away from them. The _Wolf_ put four
large life-boats on the water and took off some three hundred cases of
benzine and all the provisions and ship's stores we had on board the
_Beluga_.
When the vessel was taken charge of by the German prize officer, he
told me that I would be allowed to take only a few absolute necessities
aboard the _Wolf_ when I was transferred; but later, on the 11th,
when the _Wolf_ picked us up, Commander Nerger sent over word that
I was to be allowed to take everything I wanted. Unfortunately the
permission came almost too late, because by this time the German crew
had ransacked my quarters very thoroughly and many articles that I
would have taken with me for the comfort of my family were gone. Weeks
later some of these were recovered. For instance, I had a pair of
rubber-soled, leather-topped yachting shoes. Some weeks after joining
the _Wolf_ I noticed a man with these shoes on his feet. I called the
attention of one of the officers to it and told him that they were
formerly my property. The following morning those shoes were just
outside my stateroom door, nicely polished.
Among the things I took on the _Wolf_ was the wife's sewing machine,
which proved of great value later on, as she had to make under and over
garments for both herself and Nita. My nautical instruments, books and
charts were taken from me, but I was told that they would be returned
to me on my arrival in Germany.
At 1:20 we got into the boats and said a last farewell to the poor
little _Beluga_, and she did look little in comparison with this big
black brute of a raider. As we were being rowed over, the _Wolf's_
rails were lined with grinning faces, and not one of them that I could
see had the least trace of sympathy. Not that I wanted sympathy for
myself, but it seemed strange to me, at the time, that out of over
three hundred German sailors and officers there was not one whose face
showed any sympathy for the position a woman and little child were in.
We climbed on board by means of a Jacob's ladder, myself first with
Nita on my back, and my wife next. Many offered to lend her a hand,
but she managed to make it without any help. There was a certain
satisfaction in this, as afterwards I found out that the Germans
anticipated a lot of trouble in getting her aboard, as there was quite
a bit of sea running.
On arriving on deck we were met by the Chief Officer, Captain Schmell,
whose first words were, "Tell your wife and little girl that they have
nothing to fear, that we are not the Huns you probably think we are."
He took us aft under the poop and showed us an ex-storeroom which some
men were cleaning out for our use. This room was in the centre of the
prisoners' quarters and had absolutely no ventilation, and there were
Negroes, Indians and various other nationalities passing up and down
to the hell hole, before the door, in various stages of décolleté, to
say the least. The Chief told me that we three could have this room
together, or my wife and child could have a more comfortable room on
the berth deck amidships, but that I would have to remain down below
and that I would be allowed to visit my family two hours daily. My wife
would not hear of this latter arrangement, saying that we would live in
a pig-sty together rather than be separated. Just then Commander Nerger
came along and spoke to us, saying that he was very sorry to find that
the _Beluga_ had a woman and child on board, and had he known that
such was the case he would have passed right on; but that once he had
shown himself to be a raider, to protect himself he would have to keep
us prisoners until such time when he could land us at a place where
it would not jeopardise the safety of his vessel or crew; and that in
the meantime he would make us as comfortable as possible under the
circumstances. He then gave orders that we three should be given one of
the deck officers' staterooms on the berth deck and that we were to be
given the freedom on the side our room was on, and that as long as I
paid attention to my own business only and did not talk to any of the
sailors, I was to continue to enjoy this privilege; but just as soon as
I gave them cause to believe that I was trying to gather information,
I was to be sent down into the hell-hole aft--as the prisoners called
their well-named quarters. Needless to say, I gladly agreed to his
proposition, knowing myself to be lucky not to be separated from my
family. At 4:30 P.M. a man (who was afterwards my orderly) came to our
room with cotton batting to put in our ears, as they were going to
sink the _Beluga_ by gun fire. I was granted permission to go onto the
boat deck and watch. They fired nineteen shots at her with the six-inch
gun forward, and the nineteenth shell hit her amidships. The other
eighteen were clean misses--rotten shooting, as the target was only two
and a half miles off. _Beluga_ burst into flames and immediately when
she caught fire the benzine exploded, making one of the most wonderful
sights I have ever seen. The sea for miles around us was covered
with burning petrol, the weather was almost calm, and occasionally
a "cat's-paw" of wind would come along and cause this flaming field
of oil to run in various directions, opening a path of black water
through a sea of flames. As soon as this "cat's-paw" of wind was over
the flames would run together again. When the spars fell out of the
ship the splash was not of water but a veritable cataract of flames.
Even the Germans were impressed by the picture of three square miles
of burning sea, flames leaping thirty feet high and raging for hours.
God! It was a wonderful thing. In fact, the sight was so great that I
did not realise for some minutes that it was my own little home that
was going up in flames. My wife could not, of course, stand this sight,
and had remained in her room.
On account of there being no place ready for us to sleep, we were given
temporary quarters in the forward end of the deckhouse, immediately
over the pump room on the main deck. There was only one very narrow
bunk here, possibly eighteen inches wide, which my wife and Nita
occupied. For myself I picked out a nice soft iron plate on the floor
and slept on that. The only means of ventilation here was a square
hole in the roof or ceiling, probably eight inches square. There was,
I believe, some kind of ventilator attached to this opening outside.
There was an iron-bound rule enforced at all times on the _Wolf_,
that no light from any source should be visible on the deck. All
doors were fitted with a patent mechanism so that when the door was
opened the electric light current was broken and consequently the
light went out. Immediately on closing the door the light would come
on again. This made it necessary to sit in the dark if we wanted to
have either the port hole or door open for fresh air, and if the door
was closed, in a very short time the air became actually suffocating.
On several occasions the temperature, with the door and port hole
open, was 104° F. at night, so it can be imagined just how hot it was
when the door had been closed for ten or twenty minutes. The first
night none of us slept a wink, owing to the excitement of the day and
the incessant hammering and knocking of the air pumps and ice-making
machines immediately under our feet. This made the fourth night since
we had been captured that my wife did not get a wink of sleep. Fearing
complications from this loss of sleep, I called on the German doctor
and finally made him understand the situation. He gave me a powder for
her and asked if he should visit her. Thinking possibly that under the
circumstances the near approach of a German, even a doctor, would do
more harm than good, I told him I did not think it necessary.
Doctor Hausfelt, the senior surgeon of the _Wolf_, prior to the
outbreak of the war, was a specialist in women's nervous diseases
and was the head of a clinic at the Hanover University. The doctor
spoke French and Italian fluently but could not speak the English
language, although he read it very well. He insisted that we be moved
the following morning further down the deck, to a room similar to the
one we were in, but much quieter. In reality, although quieter, this
room was hotter than the one forward. The bunks, of which there were
two, one for the wife and one for Nita, were fastened to the iron
engine room bulkhead, and the mattresses that lay up against this wall
absorbed a great deal of this heat, making them very uncomfortable. I
slept on the floor, which was concrete laid over the iron deck, and
although very hard was really cooler, by a good deal, than the bunks.
Early in the morning after making this change I had to go down to the
Antiseptic Department and have my trunks very minutely searched and
my clothes disinfected. In fact, I had to appeal to the Second Doctor
to escape being run through the dis-lousing plant. Here anything that
proved of interest to the prisoner officer was taken away from me, with
the promise that it would be returned later. My books, letters and
paper clippings were religiously read and returned. I had a 3A Eastman
Kodak which they seized, and imagine my surprise some days later when
a roll of films--half of which had been exposed by me--was handed to
me by the officer in charge of the photographic department. They had
taken this roll of films out of my camera and developed them, just for
curiosity, I suppose.
From here I was taken to the Recording Lieutenant's office and put
through a rigid examination, being asked innumerable questions
regarding my movements in the past five years, also questions
regarding my parents' origin, occupation and present standing. All
this fuss because one of the prize crew had found in my quarters a
pamphlet giving information regarding the United States Naval Reserve
requirements. I thought I had got rid of all this junk, but evidently I
must have overlooked something.
My officers and sailors were taken to the regular prisoners' quarters
aft, and I was not allowed to see or speak to them.
Now comes what I consider the most awful period of my experience. My
wife, who is naturally of a highly strung and courageous disposition,
broke down under the preceding five days' strain and loss of sleep.
Luckily Doctor Hausfelt, the _Wolf's_ senior surgeon, had been in
private life a woman's specialist, and owing to his skill and untiring
services my wife pulled through. She lay in her berth, packed in ice,
for three weeks, absolutely delirious. Owing to the experience I had
undergone during the past few days my own nerves were all ragged
and upset; and the continual raving and shrieking of my wife, who
imagined herself undergoing the most awful torture, drove me nearly
crazy. Some days and nights seemed never to come to an end. During this
time, on July 17th, to be exact, _Wolf_ captured and set on fire the
American schooner _Encore_, Captain Oleson, bound from Columbia River
to Australia with a cargo of lumber, but owing to my state of mind I
remember it only as an incident; it seemed trivial to me at the time.
During all this time my wife had been gradually sinking until she had
come to the place where she either had to make a turn for the better or
pass into the Great Beyond.
Commander Nerger, at the doctor's request, during this crisis, gave
orders that all traffic on our side of the berth deck should stop, and
guards were placed at each end to see that his orders were carried
out. On the night of August 2nd Doctor Hausfelt told me that, barring
accident, my wife would recover. I have often wondered whether a
physician realises just what it means to an anxious husband when he
tells him, "The crisis is past and your wife will recover." I know they
were the most welcome words I had ever heard! During all this time I
never gave a thought as to where we were going or how we were going to
get there. I didn't give a damn what happened, only that my wife pulled
through.
However, after my wife had passed the critical point and commenced
to get better, a load seemed to be lifted off my shoulders, and the
mere fact of being a prisoner on board a German raider seemed of no
consequence. I then commenced to take an interest in things around me.
My continual silence, with nobody to talk to, and the long periods of
darkness, from 7:10 P.M. to 6:30 A.M., it being winter in the South
Pacific, grew very irksome. On account of the extreme heat in the cabin
when the door was closed and the light on, I was unable to sit inside
and read, so the only thing left was to sit outside my door on the deck
and think, and God knows I didn't have many very agreeable things
to think about. At this time my wife was still too weak to talk, and
anyway I didn't want to get her asking questions, thinking it would
only make her worry, which I knew was not good for her. My days were
usually taken up in washing clothes and nursing the wife. I never knew
there were so many clothes in the world, and to think that they came
from one sick wife and a perfectly healthy six-year old kiddie! I, like
a darn fool, kept putting on clean white frocks and all the other white
fixings that go with it. When the Missis got on the job again, Miss
Juanita got a pair of overalls on week days and a dress on Sundays,
all this going to prove that as a nurse maid I was a fizzle. I came a
Steve Brodie on the wife's hair also, letting it get into such a mess
that I couldn't comb the rats' nests out of it and had to cut the whole
business off short. However, this didn't make much difference, as it
all came out itself anyway.
At all times on the _Wolf_ the fresh water situation was of great
importance, as we were on a strict allowance of drinking water, which
they condensed and purified themselves. We were also allowed a minute
quantity of semi-condensed water for washing purposes. I used to save
up for several days and get enough for a bath, all of us using the same
water. After bathing, this water was used to wash clothes in. On other
mornings we had to be content with a salt water bath, which is very
refreshing but has little cleansing quality. Every effort was made to
catch all the rain water possible, and then everybody had the big wash.
During a heavy rain it was customary for all hands to strip and stand
out in the rain and have a good rain water bath. It was quite odd to
see from one hundred and fifty to three hundred men taking their bath
in this manner. It makes one think of the Garden of Eden before Eve
showed on the job.
I used to look forward to the evening when the prize officer,
Lieutenant Zelasko, used to come to my quarters and talk for half an
hour. His talk usually was of the war, and it was interesting to get
the German view of it. Of course, from their viewpoint "poor Germany"
was the defendant, and they figure they are fighting to protect their
homes and not in a war of conquest.
Many of the crew of the _Wolf_ had seen service on the various fronts
and in Belgium and had some very interesting experiences to tell. These
stories were always from the German viewpoint. One chap in particular
had a unique and unenviable experience, having been wounded in six
places at six different times. He was shot once through the shoulder on
the Russian front. On two occasions, while on service in France, he was
shot, once through the arm and on another occasion through the leg. At
the storming of Antwerp he was wounded on the head by a flying piece of
shell, and later on, while trying to storm a bridge, he was bayoneted.
While serving as a member of the prize crew on the S.S. _Melunga_,
after her capture by the _Wolf_, he lost an eye, while knocking off
the head of a beer bottle, a piece of the glass striking him in the
eye. The bottle of beer was "Gambe Carlsburger," a Danish beer, and as
this accident happened on an Australian steamer in the Indian Ocean, I
don't know just exactly who should get the credit for this, although I
think that Denmark should be credited with an asset.
One of the officers, a lieutenant, was in the sailors' foot regiment
the first time the Germans entered Antwerp, and told of the civil
populace throwing large rocks, flat irons and cooking utensils down on
the soldiers' heads while they were marching into the town, and spoke
as if this was a grave breach of the Marquis of Queensbury's rules as
to how to conduct a war. After many of the brave Teuton soldiers had
been wounded in this undignified and unwarlike manner, they withdrew
and the artillery bombardment followed. From other sources I have heard
that this regiment marched up the street taking pot shots at anybody,
male or female, who happened to look out of a window or door. I judged
from this man's conversation that this sailor regiment shipped to stop
bullets and not flat irons and other nameless weapons.
One afternoon I asked Commander Nerger for permission to talk to some
of the men, saying it was not healthy for a man to sit around all day
and not say a word to anybody. This he granted, so after that I could
hold short conversations with a good many members of the crew, and in
a short time had practically the run of the ship. It was absolutely
forbidden, however, for me to talk to any of the other prisoners who
had been on board the _Wolf_ for a long time and knew of its various
mine-laying activities.
Our meals were served in our cabin, on dishes taken from the _Beluga_;
in fact, for the first month a good deal of our food was _Beluga's_
food. Little delicacies that I had bought for our own use, such as
potted meats, jellies, crackers and a case of wine, were reserved
for our own use by the purser of the _Wolf_ at Commander Nerger's
suggestion. One of the most valuable foods to us, taken from the
_Beluga_ and reserved for our use, was four cases of canned milk of
the liquid variety, which proved very beneficial to the wife during
her sickness, and also was greatly appreciated by Nita. The doctor,
thinking probably that the black bread would prove too strong for
Nita's stomach, endeavoured to have the ship's baker make a small
quantity of white bread for her, but unfortunately the baker could not
make a success of the wheat bread and the effort was given up. As far
as I could see, this black bread, while being far from palatable, was
very wholesome and nourishing.
I should like to state here that my family and myself were treated with
the utmost courtesy and consideration by the Commander himself and
his officers while we were prisoners. I am not speaking for the poor
devils down below aft, nor of our treatment while under the charge of
Lieutenant Rose on the Jap prize ship _Hitachi Maru_, or later on the
Spanish prize _Igotz Mendi_, which was decidedly different.
On the _Wolf_ our meals were regular and methodically worked out, so
that at the end of each day a person had received just so much rationed
nourishment. Myself and family received the same food as that served in
the Officers' mess. Our breakfast usually consisted of "near" coffee,
syrup or treacle and three slices of black bread. I have seen the
cook's department roasting this alleged "coffee," and believe it to be
nothing more nor less than wheat roasted until it is scorched or burnt,
the larger kernels being saved for this purpose. Some years ago I was
on a sailing vessel and the supply of coffee gave out. The cook used
to take burnt bread and make a substitute for coffee from it that was
identical in taste with this coffee on the _Wolf_.
Dinner at midday consisted of a soup, a meat-ball composed of canned
beef ground fine and mixed with bread crumbs, plenty of preserved peas
and carrots. Monday, Wednesday and Friday we had a dessert, usually
stewed prunes or a corn-starch mixture. For supper we had tea, bread,
and sardine paste, or pickled, cold corned beef. Quite often rice in
various disguises was given instead of the "bully beef" at noon. But
on Sunday--oh, joy!! A regular, honest-to-Grandma dinner, consisting
of asparagus soup, real fresh meat from the refrigerator, evaporated
potatoes, a vegetable, prunes and a sweet. This for a regular menu,
day in and day out, doesn't look very good, but considering that we
were prisoners I don't believe we had any cause to complain. The food
we received was the same as that which the Commander and deck officers
had, and superior to that of the warrant officers and seamen.
[Illustration:
SHOWING "MANNLICHER" TYPE TORPEDO TUBE, PORTSIDE FORWARD ON "WOLF".]
[Illustration:
FINAL DIVE OF JAPANESE STEAMER "HITACHI MARU." 6558 GROSS TONS. CAPT.
KOKMOA. CAPTURED SEPTEMBER 26TH OFF MALDIVA ISLANDS, INDIAN OCEAN. SUNK
BY BOMBS NOVEMBER 7TH.]
The German auxiliary cruiser and minelayer _Wolf_ was formerly
a freighter belonging to the Hansa Line, a subsidiary of the
Hamburg-American Line; of 6,728 gross tons; single screw, one funnel;
two well decks, two telescoping masts, equipped with wireless, double
bridge; two Sampson posts on poop and four sets of cargo booms. On
the poop rigged from the Sampson posts were two faked cargo booms whose
real purpose was to disguise a six-inch gun mounted there. On her boat
deck she showed three life-boats, working boats from each side. The
vessel was painted all black and had no particular distinguishing marks.
_Wolf_ carried two six-inch ordinary guns, one mounted forward
under the forecastle head and the other on top of the poop; four
4.7 ordinaries, two forward and two aft mounted on the well deck.
The bulwark or rails at these guns, as at the six-inch forward gun,
were fitted with hinges and spring catches, so that by one blow of a
hammer they dropped down, giving the guns ample room for action. Under
ordinary circumstances nothing of these guns could be seen above the
rail. She was further armed with four torpedo tubes, two forward and
two aft, on the well decks. The torpedoes forward were "Red Heads"
and especially effective for short distances, while those aft were
"Mannlichers" and used for long distance work. She also had four
machine guns mounted, two on each end of the boat deck in such a manner
that they could control the decks and the prisoners' quarters aft.
On leaving Kiel _Wolf_ had a crew of three hundred and seventy-five
men, including one Commander and Corvette Captain, one Lieutenant
Commander, three senior and six junior Lieutenants, two Surgeons and
twelve Warrant Officers, including gun mechanics, torpedo mechanics,
mine experts, navigating sub-lieutenants and boatswains. She had a
wireless crew of seven men, including one wireless expert. The signal
corps consisted of six signal men in charge of a code expert, who had
had several years of training at a school in deciphering various codes.
I am led to believe from what I saw that this man was able to decipher
naval and private codes used in the South Pacific, but was unable to
handle codes used in the North Atlantic.
On leaving Kiel _Wolf_ had on board five hundred mines, seventy-five
hundred tons of Westphalian coal, three thousand tons of water, and
twenty-five hundred tons of food and ammunition. This heavy cargo
over-loaded the _Wolf_. I understand she was drawing over two feet
more than her normal loaded draft when she left Kiel, and on getting
safely through the blockade she encountered a very heavy series of
gales in the North Atlantic, causing the vessel to labour heavily.
This labouring strained her hull and topside and she dropped a good
many rivets. As soon as she ran out of this bad weather repairs
were made and all her topsides double riveted. Something like nine
thousand rivets were driven, this work being done by her crew as the
_Wolf_ proceeded down the Atlantic. Among her mechanics she seemed
to have representatives from almost every trade, and apparently an
inexhaustible supply of materials for making repairs or new additions
to her equipment.
_Wolf_ was equipped with a triple expansion engine and three boilers
and one auxiliary donkey boiler. Her power plant was unique in that
she could steam seven knots per hour on a consumption of eighteen tons
of coal per diem, and eleven and a half knots per hour, her maximum,
on twenty-eight tons of coal per diem. I have heard it said that she
had one of the most efficient power plants out of Europe, having a
fuel consumption of 1.2 per I.H.P. _Wolf_ was further equipped with a
powerful searchlight, situated abaft the bridge, on a tower that could
be raised or lowered at will. When not in use this light could not be
seen above the top of the house. _Wolf_ sailed from Kiel on November
21, 1916.
The Commander of the _Wolf_, Corvette Captain Nerger, of the Imperial
German Navy, was a man of probably thirty-five years of age, of
moderate height and slim build. He was immaculate in all things
pertaining to his person, and was a strict disciplinarian. I was in
Commander Nerger's quarters one day. I had visited him to thank him for
the courtesy he had extended to my family and to myself, and found him
a very agreeable man to talk to; a thorough gentleman and apparently
anxious to do anything he could to make our lot bearable. In talking
with him I found nothing to denote the arrogant Prussianism which is
said to predominate in the higher branches of the German Navy.
And yet Commander Nerger was a man "all alone." He kept absolutely to
himself; took no man into his confidence. No man ever knew an hour
ahead what his plans or the vessel's plans were. He was the only one
who knew when we started for home. On the fifteen months' cruise of
the _Wolf_ Nerger was in full charge and ran his vessel as a "one man
ship." He lived in comfortable quarters on the boat deck, just under
the bridge, and had his meals served in his private dining room. In the
five months I was on the _Wolf_ I do not think I saw him on the berth
deck more than a dozen times, and then only on an inspection trip of
some kind. He always had the appearance of having just stepped out
of a bandbox, he was so immaculate in his dress. I was told by his
officers that Nerger never gets excited; always remains cool under
all circumstances. They tell a story of his being in command of a
light cruiser in the battle off the Dogger Banks, and throughout this
engagement he calmly passed back and forth on the bridge, with a cigar
in his mouth, giving his orders as calmly as if at some gun practice or
manoeuvres. His officers and men all respected him, which to my mind is
a good enough recommendation.
One of the peculiarities of the _Wolf's_ cruise was that nobody,
excepting the Commander, knew where she was going, when she was going,
and how long she was to be away. The majority of the officers, thinking
she would probably try to duplicate the raider _Moewe's_ operations,
took only enough clothes to last them about three months, and only
augmented their supply from the various vessels captured. From one of
the captured steamers they got several rolls or bolts of heavy dress
goods, but unfortunately for them, they didn't have enough cotton
thread to make them up into wearing apparel, although some of them,
in more need than the rest, sewed their new suits with ordinary sail
twine, similar to that which the grocer uses to tie up his parcels. The
cloth was all dark goods, and it looked odd to see the coarse white
string stitches against the dark background. Many of the suits were
very well cut and fitted in the regular naval style.
The _Wolf's_ method of getting away from Kiel was unique. Each day
about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, she would up anchor and steam
out of Kiel harbour, manoeuvring outside and having gun practice,
returning each night to anchor in the harbour. This procedure was kept
up for over three weeks, until finally one night the _Wolf_ failed to
return. During these three weeks nobody was allowed ashore or to hold
any communication with the shore. Even the German naval authorities did
not know the date she was to sail, until she had gone. All this goes to
prove that the German Naval Department had considerable respect for
the Allied Intelligence Department.
On leaving Kiel the _Wolf_ went through what is known as the "Big
Belt," a passage through Denmark into the Kattegat, from there along
the Danish coast across the Norwegian coast, and out to the Atlantic
between the Farrows and Iceland. On returning to Germany she merely
retraced her course, the only difference being that she passed through
the "Little Belt," a very narrow piece of water, one-half of which is
German territorial water and the other half Danish.