CAUGHT!
SAN FRANCISCO! Oh, huge, marvellous city!
What I enjoyed most was my freedom from arrest. Officialdom did not
take the slightest notice of my presence, and I remained there for
several days, in spite of the frantic anxiety of the German Consulate,
which expected me to be led into captivity at any moment. I have rarely
in my life enjoyed a madder, more delirious New Year’s Eve than in San
Francisco! Nothing that I had heard about it approached reality. It
was a pleasure to look at the people—thoroughbred, every one of them.
The men tall and strong, the women captivatingly beautiful in their
blonde fairness. My friends invited me to one of their biggest and most
beautiful night clubs. Exorbitant prices and the smartest society of
San Francisco. During that night everything seemed permissible.
The music and the dancing carried one away with their beauty and
wildness. It was the night of San Francisco.
On the 2nd of January 1915 I took my departure, and by chance I met in
the same railway carriage one of my comrades, and also several Germans
with whom I had previously travelled by boat. We had a most enjoyable
journey, the more so as the papers brought good news from Germany. As
several of the elderly ladies and gentlemen were bound for home, we two
officers also firmly believed that we were not far from attaining our
object.
We stopped at the Great Cañon of Arizona to admire the mighty wonders
of Nature, which enfolded themselves in their glorious beauty. On the
following days our train sped through the prairie, recalling to our
minds boyish recollections of Fenimore Cooper and the Mohicans. At
Chicago we separated, and I travelled thence to Virginia on a visit to
dear friends of mine, and in the hope of finding out how I best could
reach Europe.
After two or three days I sped to New York to try my luck there.
I had to hang about in New York for fully three weeks, and during these
I had many opportunities of studying its people and their customs.
Three weeks, in which time after time I nearly burst with fury. It
was the climax of all I had endured until then. Hardly a picture,
hardly a newspaper, hardly an advertisement that did not incite hatred
against Germany, that did not pour abuse on the brave German soldiers.
“Tipperary” seemed to have become the National Anthem of New York.
Was there no one who could open the eyes of these people? Did they
really not _wish_ to see and hear the truth? But the majority knew
Germany only from hearsay—they hardly even knew where Germany was;
and in spite of this they were ready with their judgment. Here one
could gauge the monstrous power of the lying English Press, and the
crass stupidity with which the Americans swallowed the bait. I did
what I could. I talked, and explained, and tried to convince, but met
everywhere the same answer: “Of course, _you_ would not commit these
atrocities; but your countrymen, Huns and Barbarians, do nothing else.
Here it is, black on white in the _Times_—a paper of that importance
does not tell lies.” My greatest consolation during that time was the
touching manner in which I was treated and received by my friends and
their acquaintances, and I remain truly grateful to them. One night I
was particularly enraged. I had been to the Metropolitan Opera House,
where I had listened to one act from _Hänsel und Gretel_—German music,
German words and German songs! My heart was bursting with frantic,
aching longing for my beloved country; my soul drank in long draughts
of German melody. Still bemused and carried away by my feelings, I
stepped into the street and found myself at once recalled to reality.
The big space in front of the theatre held a huge crowd, as it did
every night, and a cinema projector threw the newest war bulletins in
garish letters across a blank wall. As was to be expected, Russia had
again achieved one of her famous victories. The English had annihilated
the army of the Crown Prince! The crowd was yelling with delight.
Battle pictures followed. First some English and French warships, then
suddenly, the German cruiser _Goeben_. The people raved, whistled,
hissed, shouted—the din was endless. So much for the _neutral_
Americans, so anxious to uphold the rights of men and the ends of
Justice!
Until now all my efforts to reach Europe had been fruitless. I had
imagined that my task would be easier. Once I nearly succeeded in
sailing on a Norwegian boat as an ordinary sailor; but was dissuaded,
as there were several Englishmen in her crew. At last I got what I
wanted. By chance I made the acquaintance of a man who had led a
rather stormy existence. He had been all over the world, and had
lived for a long time in New York. I was never really quite able to
ascertain his real occupation. However, he was very successful at one
particular job—which consisted in polishing up old passports. We
quickly concluded our bargain. In a few hours I had my papers with my
photograph neatly pasted in, and all the proper police notifications
entered according to existing regulations. And in this wise the Swiss
traveller, locksmith, Ernst Suse, went on board the neutral Italian
steamboat _Duca degli Abruzzi_ on the 30th of January 1915, and
disappeared into the steerage.
Two hours later we passed the statue of Liberty. Five sea miles out of
New York two English cruisers were watching the mouth of the harbour. A
shining example of the Freedom of the Seas! The journey was abominable.
Though I had been trained in a rough school as a naval officer aboard
a T.B.D. I had never dreamed of anything like it. The ship was
heavily overweighted, and pitched and tossed to such a degree that I
was convinced that she would capsize under the impact of the heavy
seas. And the bugs! But I shall go into that later. On the morning of
the third day of our journey I stood on deck and gazed longingly at
the first-class railings over which two charming little faces were
looking down at me. A gentleman approached them, and with difficulty I
suppressed the name which sprang to my lips. For I knew him; it was——
Doubt was impossible. It was my brother officer T., who had come with
me from Shanghai. He saw me at the same moment, but only recognized me
after he had exchanged some very loud remarks with the ladies about the
filthy fellow down below (meaning myself). Suddenly he stopped, stared
hard at me, smiled knowingly, after which he suddenly turned away and
disappeared.
In the evening, when darkness had completely fallen, I had an
opportunity of a short talk with him. He was travelling as a
distinguished Dutchman (of course he did not speak a single word of
Dutch), and his destination, like mine, was Naples, and from thence
homewards. Though we had both met daily in New York, each intent on
getting home, we had been obliged by our respective helpers to keep
what we did a dead secret from each other. And we now learned that we
had both been to the same man!
Some days after leaving New York I suddenly went down with a high
temperature, and had to take to my bed. I did not know what was the
matter with me, but presumed malaria, and so did the Italian doctor,
who gave me a ridiculously large dose of quinine. I did not have to
wait long for the result, as I promptly grew worse, and my temperature
rose to 103°. These days were indescribable. Our cabin, a veritable
hole, was shared by four passengers. Above me lay a Frenchman who only
stopped gabbling and cursing when he was sea-sick. The lower berth was
occupied by a pale and resigned Swiss (his nationality at once awoke my
suspicions). This man was so sea-sick that it was my opinion he would
never reach Europe alive. In the upper, left-hand berth a perfectly
rabid Englishman smoked his pipe of Player’s Navy Cut unremittingly
day and night, in spite of the closed portholes. He was nearly always
drunk and unable to cease his abuse and revilings against Germany
for one moment. It is easy to imagine how much rest I got! To cap it
all, my berth lay close to the engines, and the bugs were the worst
item of the programme. And these dreadful pests did not come singly,
but in battalions. Oh, what were the noises, the horrible smells and
the sea-sickness compared to this plague! In spite of my exhausting
weakness I tried to destroy or to drive away the loathsome insects. But
I was soon forced to give up in despair.
After that I relapsed into complete indifference. I told myself that
the voyage would be over in a few days, and as soon as we had reached
beautiful Italy, and I had given myself a short rest, I should be back
in my beloved Fatherland. I fought off my illness with the utmost
energy, and the thought of Germany aided my convalescence, so that when
the ship reached Gibraltar on the 8th of February I was able to be up
and about.
Gibraltar!
How many times already had I sailed past this Rock, how often had I,
returning from foreign parts, tendered joyous welcome to the grey
stones, the sign-post, in these straits to the faithful homeland! What
was in store for me this time? In spite of the fact that the time-table
made no provision for calling at Gibraltar, the ship entered the port
for examination, without even awaiting a request to do so, and dropped
anchor. To this extent had the Italians already become the slaves of
the English! As soon as the ship lay to, two pinnaces descended upon
us, from which emerged an English naval officer and sundry policemen
and sailors armed to the teeth. A bell was sounded all over the ship,
with the order that all foreign passengers, who were neither English
nor Italian, should assemble on the pilot bridge. The Italian stewards
went below, inspected the ship’s hold and all the cabins, and drove
us like a herd of sheep to the upper deck, where we were closely
surrounded by them and the English sailors. I cannot pretend that I
felt particularly happy! In spite of this I experienced a certain
amount of confidence, as I soon found out that I was the only one
equipped with a genuine passport and photograph. On the other hand, I
established the fact that we were five Swiss, three of whom had already
excited my suspicion on account of their shy and retiring disposition.
There was only one whom I had not noticed at all, and he looked so
dirty and repulsive that I took the precaution of moving away when he
placed himself beside me. After an hour, during which the first-class
passengers were examined—casually, and with great politeness—our turn
came. We stood there like six miserable sinners. The first one was an
Italian-Swiss workman, who had lost his right arm. His wife, a typical
Italian, prostrated herself wailingly at the Englishman’s feet. She
was accompanied from the steerage by her whole tribe, and they _all_
wailed. The Englishman looked contemptuously at those people, and after
a short examination the man was dismissed and free to go. We had now
to advance. The tallest amongst us Swiss stood on the right wing. The
English officer went up to him and said: “You are a German officer.”
Violent and indignant protestations naturally followed; but the English
officer, whom they left quite cool, ordered him aside and turned to
us—we seemed more like the genuine article in his sight. We pointed
to our passports, and each one of us dished up a wondrous yarn. After
a short pause he said: “All right; these four can go, but I will keep
that one.”
My heart was throbbing with joy, but, alas, then appeared the Judas.
A young fellow, in perfectly fitting civilian clothes, went up to
the officer and spoke to him in raised tones. “It is quite out of
the question that these people should be allowed to leave without
having all their belongings thoroughly searched. I am convinced they
are Germans.” We exclaimed loudly at this, but to no end, though the
English officer obeyed this blackguard with evident reluctance and
contempt. However, the examination took place. Everything was turned
upside down. The rascal ferreted about everywhere, but seemed unable
to find any incriminating marks on any of our belongings. Suddenly he
whipped round, tore open my coat, turned out my breast-pockets and said
triumphantly to the officer who stood at his side, “You see, there is
neither a name nor a monogram. It is a sure sign that he is a German,
and that he has destroyed all initials.” Oh, if I could but have
brained the reptile!
As we were soon to learn, this civilian was the representative of the
firm of Thomas Cook Brothers in Gibraltar, and acted on the ships in
the dual capacity of d—— spy and interpreter. His German was so
pure that he must have enjoyed our hospitality in Germany for many
years. How many wretched creatures probably owe their undoing to this
busybody!
Once more we five were driven on deck like cattle. At this moment Judas
number two appeared, who had been fetched by Cook’s agent. This was a
first-class Swiss passenger, and at the instigation of the arch-sneak
he was to try us in Swiss dialect. Of course we all failed miserably.
Our protests were useless. Not even when I told them the wildest tales
about knowing no German, as I had left Switzerland with my parents when
a child of three, and had settled with them in Italy, and that after
that I had drifted to America. I talked nineteen to the dozen in good
Italian and American, and I nearly succeeded; but the snake hissed
again—and my hopes were dashed to the ground.
The English officer refused us any further hearing; but only remarked
that more Swiss had passed through Gibraltar than there were in the
whole world. Bursting with a frenzy that bordered on madness, I was led
away. I quickly gathered my few traps and was able unobserved to slip
a scrap of paper into a German lady’s hand, which she later faithfully
delivered to my relatives. A sailor rudely propelled me down the
gangway into the pinnace, where the other poor wretches already sat,
completely crushed. On the arrival of the English officer with his
minion we started.
The Swiss traitor stood at the breast-rail of the ship and grinned
gloatingly at us. Thereupon I was unable to contain myself any longer,
but jumped up and shook my fist at him, yelling out an invective.
Hysterical, treacherous laughter sounded back.
But a pair of German eyes sent me a sad farewell from starboard.
Good-bye, oh, happy comrade! Greet for me the Fatherland you will see
again in a few days.