THE ARRIVAL
Favourable winds astern helped us on towards home. On August ---- at
six o'clock in the morning, our alarm was raised once more. In the far
distance something appeared on the water which looked like the sail of
a boat, though certainly of a very strange appearance. As it approached
nearer the sail turned out to be the conning-tower of a U-Boat, which,
with her deck still dripping, was going on her way.
Although we were at first inclined to take careful and instructive
observations of the strange object in the distance, in order to judge
how we ourselves showed up at a distance of three knots, the best course
in our case appeared to be to find out as quickly as possible if she
were an English or a German submarine.
We preferred, however, in any case to make ourselves as unnoticeable as
possible, and in the last emergency to submerge.
We had already flooded up to tank 3, already the sea broke over the deck
and struck against the conning-tower, and even the latter was cutting
half-way down through the green waters--when suddenly a well-known flag
signal rose yonder, which gave us the certainty that it was a German
U-Boat in front of us.
We answered immediately, and gave the command directly after:
"Empty the ballast tanks!"
Never had I given orders with such a cheerful heart on the "Deutschland"
before, and never was it more cheerfully carried out than when I called
down to the control-room:
"Hurrah! the first German U-Boat in sight!"
What did it matter that we were standing on the tower and the barely
risen deck in oil and sea water with a shower-bath playing over us?...
There, over the green North Sea, came the first greeting of Germany, the
mighty Fatherland, towards us! At full speed we rushed on, everyone on
deck, and before long the two boats lay within calling distance of each
other.
The first ear-splitting hurrah was flung across to us, and answered in
like manner.
Then greetings and news were exchanged, and our ways parted again ...
ours towards home, the U-X to her work.
The day drew in and night fell once more. So we travelled homewards, no
light on deck, no light in the tower--like a dark shadow.
When the sun rose, however, on the following morning, we saw before us
in the distance a characteristic silhouette, breaking through the
veil of mist in a rosy light. An island, a bulwark in the North
Sea--Heligoland lay before us.
Soon life began to awaken on the waters around us. Torpedo-boats shot
up, patrol boats hurried along, flag signals fluttered in the air,
wireless signals rattled out their greetings, and shouting and
hand-wavings commenced, and then the iron ring of the German
Fleet, which keeps safe watch over yonder, closed round our little
"Deutschland," and under their protection we steered on past Heligoland
towards the home haven.
But as we approached the well-known waters, even before the low homelike
sandy coast came in sight, a wonderful spectacle fell to our lot, the
strangest of greetings carried out with the utmost skill.
From the land two huge birds seemed to rise into the air--two seaplanes
which approached at full speed and then sank like gigantic water-fowls
on the gently moving surface of the sea.
They shot down with their floats just brushing the surface of the water,
till within a stone's throw of the "Deutschland," made a lightning turn,
crashing by us, approached again and sprang literally over our heads,
racing low down over the conning-tower, with cheers and waving of
caps....
This was our reception from the latest weapon of the German Navy.
One should not make comparisons. But as we once more approached the
German coast, surrounded and protected by the German Marine, I suddenly
found myself comparing this with our arrival in America.
No one could have been received with more hearty enthusiasm than we had
been by the Americans. A free, untroubled people, they rejoiced in a
bold deed, and openly declared their sympathy for a new and unheard of
enterprise, which it had required men to fulfil.
But here we were more than bold and interesting adventurers. Here our
own people received us again as helpmates in their mighty struggle. Here
the delightful spectacle of her power under the sea, on the sea, and in
the air was presented to us.
This was for me the real meaning of the glorious greeting of our airmen.
This was what I felt as the look-out boats accompanied us safely as far
as the outer Weser, where we cast anchor before the Hohenweg lighthouse,
for the first time after many a long day.