The crew on board were quite self-composed, jocular for the most part,
serious enough in what they were out to do, but not worrying much about
the risks thereof, nor did they seem to regard their calling as any
more hazardous than on any other war craft in dangerous waters. Being
all young men, full and fond of adventure, the incitements seemed
stimulating to their nerves, and victims they looked on as legitimate
prey and with no feelings of remorse. The reports I had heard that men
in Germany had to be forced into the submarine service seemed to amuse
them immensely. On the contrary, they declared there was any number of
volunteers for the work, and that many young officers were willing and
glad even to pay a premium to get on a "sub" in preference to other war
craft, where they said the routine was harder and more irksome.
What their pay was I did not hear, but I gathered it was good, and
that provision in the way of bonuses for "good work" and pensions for
their dependents were allowed. The idea, too, that at the end of a
cruise they were all so nerve-racked that they needed a long rest they
declared was too absurd. Many U-boats, they said, made consecutive
voyages after a short spell in port to store up, and their "rest
depended entirely on the emergencies of the moment."
I must say that on parting with them I saw no signs of any breakdown,
either physical or mental, although all of them looked for a holiday,
which is a sailor's privilege. Sailors, we are told, are proverbial
for their modesty and the unassuming way they talk of themselves, but
this trait I failed to discover in the U-boat officer, who was boastful
enough of the great work he was doing for the Fatherland and quite
callous as to the methods employed in so doing.
I saw little or nothing of the actual manipulations during submersion,
but they were probably on the usual lines known to all such boats and
about which there is no particular secret. Every foot of submersion
is indicated by a handle turning around on a disk as on the face of a
clock, the chief care being not to sink too deep. I gathered this boat
could easily be out of sight in less than ten seconds, and steam 11
knots at 60 feet below the surface, 7 knots at 90 feet, and was tested
to sink to 200 feet, below which depth there was danger of the sides of
the boat being driven in from pressure of the water. At 50 feet below
the surface, while in motion, there was little movement or vibration to
be felt; at 80 feet practically none at all, and the stillness became
monotonous.
During the voyage one ship was torpedoed, but they prefer shelling for
economy's sake, although they had plenty of shells aboard and did not
stint them in attacking one sailing ship. During the torpedoing process
I was surprised how little concussion was felt below--in fact, beyond
a slight "bumping" sensation I might not have known it at all.