This is a true record of actual experience as prisoner on board a
German submarine. The ship I left may be called the _Wanderer_, and to
the submarine I will refer as the "U-boat."
All went well till one day the first intimation of any danger around
was hearing a shot fired, and in a few seconds a shell hit the water
a little distance from the ship. The weather was good and sea calm
and no craft was discernible, though lookout men were watching--and I
draw attention to this to show that, in spite of precautions, it is
difficult to recognize a submarine on the surface, with her conning
tower painted the color of the water, at a range of three to four
thousand yards. Very shortly a second shot was fired, whereupon through
the glasses a conning tower became visible and also men standing on
the deck, so we became aware that a submarine, evidently a big one, was
on our track. We then stopped, return fire being impossible and to run
away useless, as we would soon have been overhauled.
Presently a flag signal was hoisted from the periscope, which read:
"Send an officer here with your ship's papers." Pushing off in a small
boat, I was soon aboard the submarine, where I was at once taken down
below and questioned by the commander as to the name of the ship,
owner's name, nationality, where from, where bound for, and nature of
cargo. After a few minutes' conversation a young officer hurriedly
entered the cabin and informed the commander that he thought a patrol
boat was in sight. The commander promptly ordered some other prisoners
to be brought up, placed in the _Wanderer's_ boat and pushed off.
Presumably this was done at once, for presently I could hear what
sounded like hatches on deck being quickly lowered and a buzzing sound,
which I knew afterward was due to the lowering of the periscope.
In a few seconds all was still, and we had submerged. The whole affair
happened so quickly that I could scarcely realize I was now a prisoner
in a submarine, and as I thought of my shipmates my only consolation
seemed to be that the _Wanderer_ was safe enough, for the present at
least. Left alone to myself in a small cabin, I wondered what was
going to happen next and what was going to be the end of it all. Being
told not to leave my cabin, I obeyed and, as I felt somewhat dazed and
confused, took off my coat and lay down on my bunk.
Thoughts crowded through my head, and I had an almost irresistible
impulse to get out of the inclosed narrow space and speak to some one,
no matter who. This was denied me for two hours, (which seemed like as
many days,) when the commander called me into the saloon, was quite
cheery, told me not to be frightened, that we were a long way from the
original scene, that we were on the surface, and that we were all safe
again. To me the consolation sounded strangely ironical, but he was
evidently in earnest and wished to put me at my ease.
"Where is the ship?" I had to ask.
"Don't trouble," he replied. "She has gone off all right and there is
nothing in sight."
Presently two more of the U's officers entered the saloon and we sat
down to our first meal, which consisted of preserved meat, biscuits,
butter, tinned tomatoes, marmalade, coffee with milk, and a glass
of port wine to finish. My appetite was not good, but the fare was
wholesome enough, and my hosts, knowing I could understand German,
conversed cheerily. For the most part I answered only when spoken to,
asking no questions lest I might be thought inquisitive, but taking
in everything. Here let me say that officers and crew set out from
the start to make me comfortable and feel at home; were hospitable,
courteous, and kind in every way, and put no special restrictions upon
me.
The commander frankly told me to ask him any questions I liked about
the boat, and that if he sometimes made no reply that I was not to take
further notice of it.
"Perhaps," said he, "there are one or two things I do not want you to
see, but you must not mind that, and as to the war or what is going on,
we will not talk of it."
So that what I saw or heard aboard passed the censor, so to speak, so
far as the U officers were concerned, and I formed no opinion that
they willfully gave me any false information. I am not clear yet as to
their motive in taking me prisoner at all, as I was of no use to them
and only took up room and consumed food. Nor could it have been worth
their while to "terrorize" one individual like myself. Of course, I
carefully refrained from touching on this point, nor did I ask what
they intended to do with me if we got safely to port, preferring to
remain silent and patiently await developments.
When on deck for fresh air I saw no land anywhere, nor did I expect to
be allowed to see it, and probably if I had I should not have been any
the wiser. Nor was I shown any charts or allowed to make any periscope
observations, although on some occasions I was asked to retire to my
cabin, mostly around noon, when navigation was being worked out. The
course we took I never knew, and the only clue I had to position was
one day when, to my relief, I was informed they hoped to land within
twenty-four hours.
First, as to the U-boat herself: She was about 250 feet long, had a
crew of about 35 men, carried two 4½-inch guns, could steam 18 knots on
the surface and 11 below if required, and had a range limit of 3,200
miles steaming at 12 knots on the surface.
Leaving Germany she was stored for a twelve-weeks' cruise; when I
joined her she had provisions only for a few more days as prisoners
previously captured had consumed some of them, hence their anxiety to
get rid of the remaining ones sent off in a hurry in the _Wanderer's_
boat. The original stores were preserved pork and beef, vegetables,
tinned soups, fruit, raisins, biscuits, butter, marmalade, milk, tea,
and coffee. Prior to sinking one ship they had commandeered eggs, fresh
meat, butter, vegetables, and some liquor to afford variety to the
larder; so that the bill of fare was varied and there was no stinting
of rations. Any cooking was done on an electric stove.