Chapter XXII: Introduction: Bravery (16)

The inquiry made it only too clear that the report was authoritative. Premier Asquith, in the House of Commons, July 31st, said: “I deeply regret that it appears to be true that Captain Fryatt has been murdered by the Germans.” That he was not speaking extravagantly in using the word “murdered” is evidenced by the fact that naval and military experts, including those of Holland, strongly suspected of more than a casual sympathy with the Germans, concurred in denouncing the execution as a “judicial murder,” and insisting that Fryatt was entitled to be regarded as a prisoner of war. In the subsequent review of the case it was demonstrated conclusively by many citations from German legal and military naval sources in declarations and regulations made in 1914 and earlier that “Capt. Fryatt was well within his rights in attempting to ram a hostile marine.” Had he sent the submarine with her crew to the bottom by shell fire in avoiding capture or destruction, he would have been held as a prisoner of war if subsequently captured, but because he used the only weapon at his command to escape the enemy vessel itself, “he was condemned to execution by a court of German naval officers as a _franc-tireur_.”

August 15th, in the House of Commons, Premier Asquith declared: “This country will not tolerate a resumption of diplomatic relations with Germany after the war until reparation is made for the murder of Capt. Fryatt.”

THE FIRST OFFICER’S REPORT

The first officer of the _Brussels_, referred to in the German _communiqué_ quoted, was William Hartwell. He was interned in Holland and from there sent the following report to Mr. C. Busk, one of the officials of the Great Eastern Railway. It gives all the particulars known of the arrest and execution of Capt. Fryatt:

“Sir: This being the first opportunity since the capture of the _Brussels_ in 1916, I will endeavor to give you details of the capture and happenings up to July 27th, this being the date of Capt. Fryatt’s death. I beg to report that on June 22d the steamship _Brussels_ left Rotterdam with cargo and passengers for Tilbury, stopping at the Hook of Holland. She left the Hook Quay at 11 p. m. on that day, the weather being very fine and clear. All saloon and cabin lights were extinguished before passing the North Pier Light. Directly after passing it, a very bright light was shown from the beach, about four miles north of the Hook, followed by a bright star, such as a rocket would throw. After a lapse of ten minutes this was repeated. On both occasions Capt. Fryatt and myself remarked upon it, as we had never seen similar lights on any previous occasions. After passing the Maas Light Vessel, all Board of Trade Regulation Lights were darkened. Five miles west of the light vessel a very small craft, probably a submarine not submerged, commenced Morseing the letter ‘S’ at intervals. No other lights were visible.

“After running for one hour and thirty minutes, an extra sharp lookout was kept for a steamer that was going in the same direction and without lights, the port and starboard lights of the _Brussels_ being put on for the time being. At 12:46 craft without lights were seen at a point on the starboard bow, traveling at a great speed in the opposite direction. These proved to be German destroyers of the latest type, five in all. Two came alongside on the starboard side, and one on the port side, the other two following close behind. During the time the destroyers were approaching their commanders were shouting orders to stop, asking the name of the ship, and threatening to fire on us. No firing occurred, however. As soon as Capt. Fryatt was assured that the destroyers were German, he gave orders for all passengers to be ready to take to the boats if necessary, and quietly instructed me to destroy all dispatches and official papers. His instructions were carried out, and as the last bag was destroyed German seamen, armed with pistols and bombs, appeared on the starboard alleyway. I passed through the saloon to the deck and met more German seamen, who were driving all the crew they could find over the rail on to the destroyers. I was ordered over the rail, but refused to go, and then met the officer who came on board to take charge. He requested me to show him to the bridge, which I did. He greeted Capt. Fryatt, and congratulated himself over the great prize.

GERMAN INTELLIGENCE

“Satisfied that all was well, the destroyers left and made for Zeebrugge. The course was given for the Schouwenbank light vessel, and the order was given for full speed ahead, but no reply came from the engine room, as the engineers had been driven over the side with the majority of the crew. This greatly excited the German officer, who drew his revolver and threatened to shoot Capt. Fryatt and myself if we failed to assist him, and to blow up the ship if the orders to the engine room were not complied with at once. It was some minutes before the German officer could be convinced that the engineers and most of the crew were on the destroyers. He then ordered his own men to the engine room, and instead of going full speed ahead, the engines were put on full speed astern. This also angered the officer, and matters became very unpleasant on the bridge. I was ordered to go to the engine room to inform the Germans of their mistake. By this time the steam was greatly falling back, owing to the stokers being away, and the order was given that all on board, except Capt. Fryatt and myself, should maintain steam till the ship arrived at Zeebrugge. On reaching the Schouwenbank light vessel the German flag was hoisted, and directly after the Flushing mail boat for Tilbury passed quite close.

© _Underwood and Underwood._

Naval Honors for Captain Fryatt

The body received from Belgium is being escorted in lengthy procession through the streets of Dover.]

“Capt. Fryatt was assured that soon after her arrival at Tilbury the capture of the _Brussels_ would be reported. The _Brussels_ was met and escorted by several airplanes to Zeebrugge, where the destroyers were already moored. On arrival at Zeebrugge the _Brussels_ was moored alongside the Mole. The engineers and crew all returned. The crew were sent to their quarters and kept under armed guard. The officers and engineers were placed under a guard in the smokeroom, and Captain the same in his room. The Belgian refugees were closely searched, and landed at Zeebrugge. After a stay of about five hours the _Brussels_ left and proceeded to Bruges under her own steam.

© _Underwood and Underwood._

Memorial Service to Captain Fryatt at St. Paul’s, London]

“For some reason Capt. Fryatt was kept in his cabin, and I was sent to the bridge, not to assist or officiate in any way, but simply to stand under guard and to be questioned at intervals by the Germans if they could get the right answers. During the passage from Zeebrugge to Bruges both sides of the canal were thronged in places, and both the soldiers and the marine Landsturm were greatly excited. On reaching Bruges the crew were taken off and sent to a waiting shed. Only Capt. Fryatt and myself, with many German officers, remained on board. After we had been questioned at lunch Capt. Fryatt and I were photographed, and we then joined the crew in the shed, being afterward taken to a building in the town. All of us, including stewardesses and twenty-five Russians, were packed in, leaving scarcely standing room.

SHIPPED LIKE CATTLE

“After some hours, following a request to the prison commandant, the stewardesses were allowed separate quarters in the top of the building. Otherwise they were treated in the same way as male prisoners until they were separated to go to a different camp. At 3 a. m., on June 25th, orders came for all to be ready for the train to Germany, the stewardesses joining us at the station. At 5 a. m. we all left, closely packed, in cattle trucks, and on arrival at Ghent we were escorted to very dirty and unhealthful quarters underground. At 5 a. m. on the following day we left Ghent for Germany, via Cologne, where the stewardesses and Russians were separated to go to other camps. After being exhibited at Berlin, as at Hanover and other stations, the rest went to Ruhleben, where they arrived at 5 p. m., June 28th. Two days later Capt. Fryatt and I received orders to the effect that we were to be prepared to leave the camp at 8 p. m. for Bruges on ship’s business.

“We arrived at Bruges at 7 a. m., on July 2d, after visiting Ostend by mistake on the part of the escort. We reported to the port commandant at 9 a. m., and were taken from him to the town prison and put in cells. From then onward we were treated as criminals. We were occasionally visited by German officials and questioned as to the submarine and other subjects, on which Capt. Fryatt made a clear and open statement to the Germans, with nothing condemning to himself. From the time of being placed in the prison at Bruges to July 15th I saw Capt. Fryatt and spoke to him on several occasions, after which I never spoke to him until one hour before he was shot.

“I will endeavor to make you understand the so-called tribunal or trial. On July 24th Capt. Fryatt and myself were questioned and cross-questioned in the prison, and, so far as I could learn, Capt. Fryatt never added to or departed from his opening statement. It was then that we were first informed of the tribunal that was to follow. On July 26th we were told to be ready for the tribunal, which was to take place at Bruges Town Hall on the 27th at 11 a. m. On July 27th at 9 a. m. the door of the cell was opened, and an escort was waiting. To my surprise, four of the crew were in the waiting cell. Each man was escorted to the Town Hall, Capt. Fryatt and I being the last to go, and placed under a strong guard until the trial began.

“At 12 noon Capt. Fryatt was called into his place before the so-called bench, and repeated his previous statement. I followed and answered questions that appeared to be ridiculous, not appearing either to defend or condemn Capt. Fryatt. At the same time an officer in uniform appeared, and, approaching Capt. Fryatt and myself, informed us in broken English that he was for the defense. The Naval Commandant of the port conducted the trial, and also acted as interpreter. At 4 p. m. the Naval Commandant informed us that all was over so far, and that the decision, resting with the naval officers, would be made known to us in our cells.

SIXTEEN BULLETS

“After being again placed in the cells, the chief warder of the prison came to me at 5:30 p. m. and told me I was to go and stop with Capt. Fryatt, as that was his last night. I then met Capt. Fryatt, who was very much distressed, not so much because of the verdict, but of the unfair and cowardly manner in which everything was done. He told me himself that he was to be shot on the next morning, and after having a talk for about an hour—it was then 6:30 p. m.—the prison official took his watch from his pocket and said that in a short time the escort would be there, and Capt. Fryatt would be shot at 7 p. m. The last twenty-five minutes I spent with him were appalling. At 6:55 p. m. I wished him good-bye, and promised I would deliver his last messages, which were many, and returned to my cell.

“Punctually at 7 p. m., a very short distance from the prison walls, a band commenced to play, and poor Fryatt was no more. Late the same evening an official came to my cell and described to me, in the best way he could, how Fryatt died. He was shot by sixteen rifles, the bullets of which penetrated through his heart, carrying with them the clothes he was wearing through the body and out at the back.

“Sir, I was and am still proud of Capt. Fryatt’s manly conduct right up to the last, and I may add that there was not a German present at the trial who could face him.”

© _Underwood and Underwood._

Captain Fryatt’s Grave]

The Germans made a long official statement in an impotent attempt to justify this vengeful murder.

© _D. Davison._

The _Deutschland_ Arriving at Baltimore

The _Deutschland’s_ maiden trip was a trans-Atlantic voyage from Bremen. Its cargo was worth over two hundred thousand dollars in dyestuffs and medicines of German manufacture.]

JULES VERNE VINDICATED

How Capt. Paul Koenig of the _Deutschland_ Turned Incredible Fiction Into Practical Reality

There was a very positive thrill throughout the world when the startling report was published that a German submarine had crossed the Atlantic and, on July 10, 1915, entered an American port. It had not been believed possible at that time for a submarine to make so great and perilous a voyage, and the first news of the unique achievement was somewhat sceptically received. But when there was no remaining doubt that the _Deutschland_, dodging and evading British hostile craft, had actually voyaged from Bremen to Baltimore, Capt. Paul Koenig, commander of the U-boat, was prominently head-lined in the press.

This historic event was interesting not only as something new and wonderful in marine annals, but there was a graver interest in the demonstration of the fact that distance from the base of operations was no sure protection from submarine warfare. No little alarm was manifested in the United States for a time. But this subsided, and the romantic side of the exploit appealed to the dullest imagination.

When Capt. Koenig returned to Germany he wrote his experiences in book form, parts of which have been translated into several languages. No more absorbing story than Koenig’s own could easily be written, and from an American version of it the following excerpts were made.

After leaving port the _Deutschland_ traveled submerged until they were far out in the North Sea on their westerly course. It was about two o’clock in the morning. Capt. Koenig thought it safe to rise to the surface and gave orders for the emptying of the tanks. But as the boat approached the surface it began to toss and plunge in a way that gave warning of a storm above. The nearer the surface the wilder the antics of the boat, which occasionally indulged in regular leaps. The emptying of the tanks went calmly on nevertheless, Capt. Koenig being of the order of men not to be moved from a purpose by so inconsiderable a thing as an ill-mannered sea. They got to the surface without too much disorder. Then says Capt. Koenig:

“I was just about to give orders to put on the oil-engines—when—what was that? That dark stripe over there—wasn’t that a smoke-flag? _Donnerwetter!_ It’s a destroyer!

“With one leap I am back in the turret and have closed the tower-hatch. ‘Alarm—submerge quickly—depth rudder—go to twenty meters.’

“The whole boat trembles and shakes under the increased pressure and makes a couple of real jumps; it literally reels in the wild sea. Will it not go down pretty soon? With a sudden jerk the _Deutschland_ darts below the surface and now, bending her bow lower and lower, rapidly descends into the depths. The light of the just dawning day disappears from the turret windows, the manometer shows in quick succession, two, three, six, ten meters. But the bow drops lower and lower.

“The boat had bent forward in an angle of 36 degrees and stood on its head, as it were. Its bow rested on the sea’s bottom and its stern was violently swinging back and forth. The manometer showed a depth of about fifteen meters. I quickly realized our situation. It was something less than comfortable.

“We were revealing our position by a peculiar buoy, and we expected momentarily to hear the crashing blow of a shell in the stern. But everything remained quiet. The screws could no longer betray us. Also it probably was still too dark up there, and the destroyer perhaps had enough of its own troubles in the wild sea.

“There must have been a combination of several causes. Aside from the fact that only in the most extraordinary and rare cases is it possible for a big boat to submerge against a high sea, it is conceivable that in the haste which was forced upon us by the destroyer the tanks were not completely emptied of air.

“But, above all, I recall that my first thought was the cargo. ‘Is the cargo safely stored? Can it lose its equilibrium?’ Curious as it may sound in retrospect, that is what I instinctively thought of. A ‘big steamer’ captain doesn’t easily get rid of his second nature, even on a U-boat.

A WASH, A FEAST AND A NIGHT’S REST ON THE OCEAN BOTTOM

“We have submerged and placed ourselves on the bottom. We are in no hurry. Why should we not for once give ourselves a little rest? Our resting-place was rather deep, but therefore safer and calmer.

“This night on the bottom of the sea was truly a recreation for us all. One could for once take a good wash and go to bed in peace, without fearing to be frightened at the next moment with a ‘Hey-a’ in the speaking-tube.

“But before resting we had a regular banquet. Both the phonographs were playing and the glasses were raised, filled with French champagne.

“Our good Stücke, who was our steward, kitchen boy, and maid of all work, at the same time served us in such a dignified manner as if he were still a steward in the dining-room of the _Kronprinzessin Cecile_, as if he had never been in French captivity for nearly a whole year, in order to develop his ability in our company at the bottom of the sea.

“Again we come to the surface the next morning. The pump is working with a hissing noise as we climb upward. On the twenty-meter depth the boat loses its stability.

“First, we can see it on the manometer, then it is noticed on the depth rudder, which becomes more difficult to handle. And as the boat at times moves in unexpected jumps we realize there must be a considerable sea above.

RISING TO THE SURFACE

“I now carefully rise to the periscope depth and proceed for a time in this position and am looking around. Nothing can be seen except a stormy army of white wave-crests. This weather suits me exactly, as we need not be on our guard so very closely.

“I decided therefore to rise to the surface. But before this is done the boat must be placed across the wind, as the long heavy hull would not otherwise be able to climb out of the water.

“At slow speed, we place the _Deutschland_ right across the seas. The boat rolls fearfully. It feels just as if the soul would shake out of its body, and now it obeys the deep rudder and its nose rises slowly out of the water.

“When we are completely out of the water the ship makes the alarming motions of a pendulum all around the compass. Then comes the unpleasant moment when we have to turn the ship slowly into its course.

“Protected by the thick conning tower windows, which the heavy seas are continually washing over and streaming down, with arms and legs ready to withstand the sharp twistings of our craft, I keep watch on all sides.”

They were getting out of the North Sea into the Atlantic currents, in an increasing storm. The boat plunged and tossed sickeningly and the navigation was hard work. Finally they were free of the turbulent sea and rode into the ocean proper and its less angry motion.

OUT INTO THE BROAD ATLANTIC

“The reception of the Atlantic can not be called cordial. We undoubtedly had got accustomed to much during the past days, but I decide as far as possible to save my men’s nerves so that they will be able to withstand that which was about to come. I therefore selected the southerly course, hoping to get better weather, but I was not entirely successful. The seas continually sweep over the boat from stem to stern, because it is too heavy to be lifted out of them as other steamers are.

“It certainly was not pleasant in the conning-tower, but it was a thousand times better than below deck, where the crew, because of the unbroken rolling of the ship, began to suffer on account of seasickness in the close and stagnant air. Many an old sailor offered himself on the altar of Neptune for the first time.

“On the third day the storm begins to abate, the sea becomes calmer, and we can open all the hatches in order to get air and dry out. All who were off duty came up to stretch themselves on the deck in the sunshine and pull themselves together again after their confinement and suffering during the rough weather, which certainly was necessary. With pale faces, worn out by sleepless nights, they came out of the hatches, but hardly had they reached the fresh air and had felt the beautiful sea-wind blowing on their cheeks refreshingly before the dear cigars or pipes were produced.”

Following days were fair for a time and the boat rode the surface. It was the daily practice on fair days to put the _Deutschland_ through her diving exercises so important to efficiency in a sudden emergency. A very considerable part of the westward trip was made on the surface, though storms and the prospect of unfriendly encounters often enough sent them below.

A DUMMY SMOKE-STACK

“During the calm days we had prepared a clever disguise which would change us from a submarine to a regular steamer. Out of sail-cloth we had made a smoke-stack which, with steel rings, we could fasten to the periscope and raise it up. To cover the conning-tower we had a dressing of sail-cloth so that it would look like the deck-house on a small freight-steamer. In this way we made ready for any possibility and directed our course through the beautiful sunshine until one evening at half-past seven a steamer appeared ahead of us on the port bow. We knew at once that he would pass close if we continued on our course. We changed it a little, swinging off a few points in order to test our disguise.

“The smoke-stack is hoisted on the periscope and bellies out in the wind. In order to make it more real we build a fire in the lower opening, using cotton soaked in oil for fuel. At the same moment the conning-tower disappears under the cover, which trembles in the breeze. The oily cotton loses its honor and only stinks. There is no smoke coming from it. Every one is standing blowing with cheeks puffed out until our ‘tradelose,’ a foxy Berliner, fetches an air-pump and gets a big flame in our fake stoke-hole. With one hurrah his trick is rewarded; above the smoke-stack’s upper opening we could see a slender stream of smoke only to diminish to nothing in the next minute. We roar with laughter and again make ready to proceed with our dummy smoke-stack minus smoke.

© _International Film Service._

The _Deutschland_ Arriving at Bremen, Having Returned from a Trans-Atlantic Voyage]

“When our boatswain, Humke, comes with a jar filled with tar, the air-pump again starts to work, and at last big clouds of smoke pour out of the funnel. The effect was great. The steamer, which was at a distance, suddenly changes its course and comes straight for us.

“This we had never expected. I therefore order the mast taken down and make ready for diving. Our canvas covering disappears from the conning-tower and with a deep bow the smoke-stack comes down.

“As soon as the steamer sees this change in our make-up, fear fills his heart. He changes his course and flees, throwing thick, black clouds of smoke which we admire not without a feeling of jealousy.

“Without hindrance we again hoist our funnel. The masts are raised. And while our steamer speeds away in her wild flight we laugh so the tears run down our cheeks.

“Our fine disguise which was intended to let us pass unnoticed had instead attracted the steamer’s attention to us. He undoubtedly took us for a wreck or a ship in distress and came toward us with the kind intentions to save us. When he could suddenly see himself the target for the devilish cunning of a foxy U-boat he fled precipitately.

“What did the people of the steamer think when they recovered from their scare? Maybe they felt proud to have been able to escape from the heartless ‘pirate.’ And we, who would have been so proud if our disguise had worked a little better, were preparing to sink below the surface to avoid him.

“Well, we thought, ‘better luck next time,’ and we improved our invention with the result that two days later, while throwing off solid clouds of smoke, we passed by a steamer which we met without causing the least suspicion.”

And so without mishap or misadventure the _Deutschland_ fared to her destination, tarried some while in the American port where officers and men were discreetly entertained, the United States being a neutral country then. Suddenly, mysteriously she put to sea again. Many were the rumors of disaster to her—for the return trip was long and beset with peril from paroling and watchful destroyers eager to catch sight of her; but in due course and in triumphant contradiction of reports of her destruction the first authentic news was of her safe return to the home harbor.

WEDDIGEN’S WONDER FEAT

The Dramatic Sinking of Three British Cruisers by U-boat in the Early Days of the War

Early on the morning of September 22, 1914, three 12,000-ton armored cruisers of the British Navy—the _Aboukir_, the _Cressy_, and the _Hogue_—were torpedoed in the North Sea and sunk by a German submarine, with a loss of 1,433 men. The news startled the whole world. It was as if three Goliaths, imposing, formidable, on parade in panoply, challenging the stoutest, had succumbed impotently to the assault of the diminutive David—for it was a solitary submarine that sank the naval giants in less than an hour. So adroit, rapid and precise had been the maneuvers of the submarine that the officers of the attacked warships were of the belief that there were several of the invisible devil-boats, and that the guns of the _Cressy_ sank one of them. Nor did they become the wiser until Captain Lieutenant Otto Weddigen, commander of _U-9_, made report of his exploit on his return to Wilhelmshaven, whence he had set forth for the enterprise. Conditions, be it said, were entirely favorable to him, for the sea was calm, and the weather clear. The three cruisers, unsuspicious, were steaming along in close formation, patrolling the silent sea, and they gave him a famous victory—the destruction of the first warships by the U-boat.

There follow three separate accounts of the event as related by three different sources, the first being that of an officer of the _Cressy_, published in the _Manchester Guardian_.

© _Press Photo Syndicate._

Crew Quarters Aboard a German Submarine

The vast machinery leaves but little room for the crew. They enjoy none of the conveniences found on vessels that ply above water.]

EYE-WITNESS ACCOUNT BY AN OFFICER OF THE _Cressy_

“I was awakened about 6:15 by the increase of our speed, and, thinking it was nothing more than just a slight spurt to take up our day patrol position, I lay quiet. However, about ten minutes later I felt the engines going full speed astern, so, guessing at once that something out of the ordinary was happening, I sat up, and, opening my scuttle, looked out. Conceive the jump I gave when I saw the _Aboukir_, about half a mile away, heeling over to port so that the starboard copper plates were plainly visible glistening red in the sun. I could also see considerable commotion on board her, and one of her starboard sea boats was lowered half-way, but seemed to have stuck there.

“While I watched she seemed to heel over still more, so I leapt from my bunk, and, running into the next cabin, I found —— jumping out of his bunk, and together we ran up on to the quarterdeck. From there we could see that in the short time we had taken getting up on deck she turned over much more, and was down by the head, and while we watched we could see the sun shining on pink, naked men walking down her sides inch by inch as she heeled over, some standing, others sitting down and sliding into the water, which was soon dotted with heads. All this time we were hard at it lowering boats.

“Both the sea-boats had gone, manned by nucleus crews, and Lieutenant ——’s voice could be heard as he directed the hands working the main derrick, which was hoisting up the launch—a boat capable of holding two or three hundred men. Other men under the direction of another lieutenant were busily throwing overboard every bit of wood that they could find for the swimming men to clutch—an act which materially aided in our escape afterward. I then ran along to the sick-bay and ordered the stewards to get hot blankets and coffee ready, and went below to get into some clothes.

“THE SHIP LIFTED, QUIVERING ALL OVER”

“I had only been in my cabin about a minute when there was a terrific crash, and the ship lifted up, quivering all over. A second or two later another and duller crash, and a great cloud of smoke, followed by a torrent of water, came pouring in through my open scuttle. The noise for a second or two was deafening; everything seemed to be breaking, and somewhere or other I could hear dishes and glass being crashed to pieces on the deck, and, in addition, all the lights in the ship went out. I ran out of my cabin and along to the first ladder, the aft deck being in darkness and full of smoke; conceive my dismay when I found that it had fallen down.”

However, he found another ladder, farther on. On the deck was worse confusion than before. There was nothing left to do but make escape in the shortest possible order. He climbed down into the sea.

“The first piece I clung to had sharp edges which hurt, so I left that and swam to a table floating near. Then another man came up and climbed on to my table, so I left it to him and struck out for a large spar which I caught sight of some little distance off. This afforded a very comfortable hold, and I lay over it, kicking gently with my legs to keep them warm, and I looked about me. Both the _Aboukir_ and the _Hogue_ had gone, and the _Cressy_ was in front of me, about a quarter of a mile away. Then she began to fire her guns, and, hearing the shells going over my head, I looked behind, and there, about 300 yards off, I saw the periscope of a submarine.

“For some time the firing continued, several of the shells bursting most unpleasantly near, and then the men on the _Cressy_ started cheering, and I heard after that they were unanimously of the opinion—true or not, I don’t know—that they had sunk one of the submarines. However, the firing continued for some time, till there was a sudden explosion, and a great column of smoke, black as ink, flew up as high as the _Cressy’s_ funnels, while she heeled over about ten degrees. Nothing much further seemed to happen, however, and, looking about me, I caught sight of —— hanging on to a large fender of twigs, which kept revolving and ducking him under, so, calling to him, I started to push my spar toward him till I got near enough, and then, giving it a vigorous shove, pushed it alongside him and swam after it.

“The two of us clung to that for some time, till the sound of an explosion made us look round to see the spray and smoke disappearing, and as we watched another torpedo struck, and the _Cressy_ heeled right over and almost entirely disappeared in a very short space of time, the last few feet of ‘island,’ however, taking a very long time to go. Soon after this I realized the wonderful fact that as the _Hogue_ sank she must have righted herself, for the picket boat and steam pinnace had in some miraculous way floated clear quite undamaged, though half full of water, and were now about one hundred yards from us. Turning the spar so that it lay pointing toward the boats, and slipping the fingers of my left hand into a notch that seemed made for the purpose, I turned on my side and started to tow the spar toward the boats.

“These were soon reached, and we found that some four or five people had already boarded them. With their help we scrambled on board, having been in the water about an hour and a quarter. After this there is not much to tell. The _Flora_ hove in sight when we had been in the boat about an hour, followed by the _Titan_, and in an hour more we naked, shivering mortals were all taken off to the former.”

THE OFFICIAL REPORT

In the official report to the Admiralty made by Commander Bertram W. L. Nicholson we find the expression of the belief that there were several submarines, and that one was sunk. The report is quoted:

“The _Aboukir_ was struck at about 6.25 a.m. on the starboard beam. The _Hogue_ and _Cressy_ closed and took up a position, the _Hogue_ ahead of the _Aboukir_, and the _Cressy_ about 400 yards on her port beam. As soon as it was seen that the _Aboukir_ was in danger of sinking all the boats were sent away from the _Cressy_, and a picket boat was hoisted out without steam up. When cutters full of the _Aboukir’s_ men were returning to the _Cressy_, the _Hogue_ was struck, apparently under the aft 9.2 magazine, as a very heavy explosion took place immediately. Almost directly after the _Hogue_ was hit we observed a periscope on our port bow about 300 yards off.

“Fire was immediately opened and the engines were put full speed ahead with the intention of running her down. Our gunner, Mr. Dougherty, positively asserts that he hit the periscope and that the submarine sank. An officer who was standing alongside the gunner thinks that the shell struck only floating timber, of which there was much about, but it was evidently the impression of the men on deck, who cheered and clapped heartily, that the submarine had been hit. This particular submarine did not fire a torpedo at the _Cressy_.

“Captain Johnson then maneuvered the ship so as to render assistance to the crews of the _Hogue_ and _Aboukir_. About five minutes later another periscope was seen on our starboard quarter and fire was opened. The track of the torpedo she fired at a range of 500 to 600 yards was plainly visible and it struck us on the starboard side just before the after-bridge.

“The ship listed about 10 degrees to the starboard and remained steady. The time was 7.15 a.m. All the watertight doors, deadlights and scuttles had been securely closed before the torpedo struck the ship. All the mess stools and table shores, and all available timber below and on deck had been previously got up and thrown over side for the saving of life.

“A second torpedo fired by the same submarine missed and passed about 10 feet astern. About a quarter of an hour after the first torpedo had hit a third torpedo fired from a submarine just before the starboard beam hit us under the No. 5 boiler room. The time was 7.30 a.m. The ship then began to heel rapidly, and finally turned keel up, remaining so for about twenty minutes before she finally sank, at 7.55 a.m.

“A large number of men were saved by casting adrift on Pattern 3 target. The steam pinnace floated off her clutches, but filled and sank.

“The second torpedo which struck the _Cressy_ passed over the sinking hull of the _Aboukir_, narrowly missing it. It is possible that the same submarine fired all three torpedoes at the _Cressy_.

“The conduct of the crew was excellent throughout. I have already remarked on the bravery displayed by Captain Phillips, master of the trawler _L. T. Coriander_, and his crew, who picked up 156 officers and men.”

© _Press Photo Syndicate._

The Daily Wash Aboard a German Torpedo Boat

Germany’s torpedo boats were outclassed by her U-boats. In the battle of Jutland the world first heard of the torpedo boats’ extensive use.]

CAPT. WEDDIGEN’S OWN STORY

And here is the story of the daring enterprise, one of the most extraordinary of naval exploits, told by Captain Lieutenant Otto Weddigen, Commander of _U-9_. He was 32 years old at the time, and for the five years preceding had been attached to the submarine flotilla. He was married but twenty-four hours to his boyhood sweetheart, a Miss Prete of Hamburg, before he set out on the adventure that offered more than an even chance of making the bride a widow. Besides himself there were twenty-five men in the _U-9_ and they were a picked crew.

Weddigen’s own story of the cruise, first published in the United States by the New York _World_, was in part as follows:

“I set out from a North Sea port on one of the arms of the Kiel Canal and set my course in a southwesterly direction. The name of the port I cannot state officially, but it has been guessed at; nor am I permitted to say definitely just when we started, but it was not many days before the morning of Sept. 22, when I fell in with my quarry.

“When I started from home the fact was kept quiet and a heavy sea helped to keep the secret, but when the action began the sun was bright and the water smooth.

“I had sighted several ships during my passage, but they were not what I was seeking. English torpedo boats came within, my reach, but I felt there was bigger game further on, so on I went. I traveled on the surface except when we sighted vessels, and then I submerged, not even showing my periscope, except when it was necessary to take bearings. It was ten minutes after 6 on the morning of Tuesday when I caught sight of one of the big cruisers of the enemy.

“I was then eighteen sea miles northwest of the Hook of Holland. I had then traveled considerably more than 200 miles from my base. My boat was one of an old type, but she had been built on honor, and she was behaving beautifully. I had been going ahead partly submerged, with about five feet of my periscope showing. Almost immediately I caught sight of the first cruiser and two others. I submerged completely and laid my course so as to bring up in the center of the trio, which held a sort of triangular formation. I could see their gray-black sides riding high over the water.

“When I first sighted them they were near enough for torpedo work, but I wanted to make my aim sure, so I went down and in on them. I had taken the position of the three ships before submerging, and I succeeded in getting another flash through my periscope before I began action. I soon reached what I regarded as a good shooting point.”

[The officer was not permitted to give this distance, but it is understood to have been considerably less than a mile, although the German torpedoes had an effective range of four miles.]

THE SHOT WENT STRAIGHT AND TRUE

“Then I loosed one of my torpedoes at the middle ship. I was then about twelve feet under water, and got the shot off in good shape, my men handling the boat as if she had been a skiff. I climbed to the surface to get a sight through my tube of the effect, and discovered that the shot had gone straight and true, striking the ship, which I later learned was the _Aboukir_, under one of her magazines, which in exploding helped the torpedo’s work of destruction.

“There was a fountain of water, a burst of smoke, a flash of fires and part of the cruiser rose in the air. Then I heard a roar and felt reverberations sent through the water by the detonation. She had been broken apart, and sank in a few minutes. The _Aboukir_ had been stricken in a vital spot and by an unseen force; that made the blow all the greater.

“Her crew were brave, and even with death staring them in the face kept to their posts, ready to handle their useless guns, for I submerged at once. But I had stayed on top long enough to see the other cruisers, which I learned were the _Cressy_ and the _Hogue_, turn and steam full speed to their dying sister, whose plight they could not understand, unless it had been due to an accident.

“The ships came on a mission of inquiry and rescue, for many of the _Aboukir’s_ crew were now in the water, the order having been given, ‘Each man for himself.’

“But soon the other two English cruisers learned what had brought about the destruction so suddenly.

“As I reached my torpedo depth I sent a second charge at the nearest of the oncoming vessels, which was the _Hogue_. The English were playing my game, for I had scarcely to move out of my position, which was a great aid, since it helped to keep me from being detected.

“The attack on the _Hogue_ went true. But this time I did not have the advantageous aid of having the torpedo detonate under the magazine, so for twenty minutes the _Hogue_ lay wounded and helpless on the surface before she heaved, half turned over and sank.

“But this time, the third cruiser knew that the enemy was upon her and she sought as best she could to defend herself. She loosed her torpedo defense batteries on boats, starboard and port, and stood her ground as if more anxious to help the many sailors who were in the water than to save herself. In common with the method of defending herself against a submarine attack, she steamed in a zigzag course, and this made it necessary for me to hold my torpedoes until I could lay a true course for them, which also made it necessary for me to get nearer to the _Cressy_. I had come to the surface for a view, and saw how wildly the fire was being sent from the ship. Small wonder that was when they did not know where to shoot, although one shot went unpleasantly near us.

THE CRESSY TURNS TURTLE

“When I got within suitable range, I sent away my third attack. This time I sent a second torpedo after the first to make the strike doubly certain. My crew were aiming like sharpshooters and both torpedoes went to their bullseye. My luck was with me again, for the enemy was made useless and at once began sinking by her head. Then she careened far over, but all the while her men stayed at the guns looking for their invisible foe. They were brave and true to their country’s sea traditions. Then she eventually suffered a boiler explosion and completely turned turtle. With her keel uppermost, she floated until the air got out from under her and then she sank with a loud sound, as if from a creature in pain.

“The whole affair had taken less than one hour from the time of shooting off the first torpedo until the _Cressy_ went to the bottom. Not one of the three had been able to use any of its big guns. I knew the wireless of the three cruisers had been calling for aid. I was still quite able to defend myself, but I knew that news of the disaster would call many English submarines and torpedo-boat destroyers, so, having done my appointed work, I set my course for home.

“My surmise was right, for before I got very far some British cruisers and destroyers were on the spot, and the destroyers took up the chase. I kept under water most of the way, but managed to get off a wireless to the German fleet that I was heading homeward and being pursued. I hoped to entice the enemy, by allowing them now and then a glimpse of me, into the zone in which they might be exposed to capture or destruction by German warships; but, although their destroyers saw me plainly at dusk on the 22nd, and made a final effort to stop me, they abandoned the attempt, as it was taking them too far from safety, and needlessly exposing them to attack from our fleet and submarines.

“How much they feared our submarines and how wide was the agitation caused by my good little _U-9_ is shown by the English reports that a whole flotilla of German submarines had attacked the cruisers, and that this flotilla had approached under cover of the flag of Holland.

“These reports were absolutely untrue.

“I reached the home port on the afternoon of the 23rd and on the 24th went to Wilhelmshaven to find the news of my effort had become public. My wife, dry-eyed when I went away, met me with tears. Then I learned that my little vessel and her brave crew had won the plaudits of the Kaiser, who had conferred upon my co-workers the Iron Cross of the second class and upon me the Iron Cross of the first and second classes.”

TORPEDOED!

A Nurse’s Graphic Personal Narrative of the Wanton Destruction of the _Sussex_

On a clear day with the sea a perfect mirror reflecting the blue sky, the French Channel Steamer _Sussex_ left Folkstone harbor on its fateful trip for Dieppe, March 24, 1916. Among the passengers was an English nurse attached to a French hospital, who was returning to duty from a month’s leave of absence in England. The _Sussex_ was a small but finely built, stout passenger boat, unarmed. She left harbor at 1.30 in the afternoon, and in a short time encountered in the Channel thousands of floating bags of a jettisoned cargo. A group of passengers, standing by the rail, began to discuss the possibilities of torpedoing. A British officer, who had braved dangers at Undros, laughed, saying that it was not submarine weather, the Germans being afraid to show themselves in a calm sea. Soon the others of the group strolled off leaving the nurse alone watching a Belgian officer exercising his dog on the deck. Presently they went away, and the nurse turned to look out at the sea and watch for a periscope.

What followed the nurse tells, as her personal experience, in an article published in _Blackwood’s Magazine_:

“It grew cold, and I was beginning to think of going back to my sheltered chair to roll myself up in my rug, when in a moment the whole earth and heaven seemed to explode in one head-splitting roar. In the thousandth part of a second my mind told me ‘Torpedoed—forward—on my right’—and then the sensation of falling, with my limbs spread-eagle, through space.

This channel ferryboat was torpedoed at night while carrying a large number of distinguished passengers. The force of the explosion broke her amidships.]

“When I came to myself again I was groping amid a tangle of broken wires with an agonizing pain in my back and the fiercest headache I had ever known. My hair was down, and plastered to my chin with blood that seemed to be coming from my mouth. There was more blood on my coat-sleeve. I was conscious that I was bleeding freely internally with every movement. My first definite thought was, ‘If only it is all a ghastly nightmare!’ But I remembered. My next thought was a passionately strong desire not to die by drowning—then. I crawled free of the wires that were coiled all about me and stood up.

DEAFENED AND UNABLE TO SPEAK

“In one unsteady glance I took in a number of things. Near me a horrible piece of something, and a dead woman. (Afterwards I wondered why I was so sure she was dead and never stooped to make sure.) _Below me, on the quarterdeck and second-class promenade deck_, numbers of people moving to and fro, many with lifebelts on. I never heard a sound from them, but it did not strike me as odd then. Now I know I was deafened. So I had been blown up on to the top deck, to the other end of the ship. I swayed to and fro, and looked for a stairway, but could find none, and began to be aware that I had only a few moments of consciousness left me.

“Something must be done if I was not to drown. I forced my will to concentrate on it, and came to the side, where I found three men looking down on a lowered boat. I also saw a lifebelt on the ground. I picked it up and, not having the strength to put it on, I tried to ask the men to tie it for me. Then I found I could not speak. So I held it up, and one, an American, understood, and hastily tied it. Then I saw one of them catch hold of a loose davit rope and swarm down it to the boat. There was my one chance, I decided. My arms were all right, but would my legs work? I took hold, and made a mighty effort to cross my knees round the rope: I succeeded. Then I slid down till I was just above the water.

INTO ONE LIFEBOAT

“I waited till the roll of the ship brought me near enough to the boat to catch, with my right hand, another rope that I saw hanging plumb above it, while I hung on with my left. It came within reach: I caught it, let go with my left, and lowered myself into the boat. Then I wanted to sink down in her bottom and forget everything, but I dared not, for men were pouring into her. I saw a man’s knee hooked over the side of the boat where I sat. I could not see his body, but it was in the water, between us and the side of the _Sussex_. As in a dream I held on to his knee with my left hand with all the grip I had left, and with my right held on to the seat on which I sat. I could do nothing to help him in, but on the other hand, so long as I remained conscious, his knee-hold should not be allowed to slip. No one took any notice of either of us. Gradually I began to hear again. The men in the boat were shouting that there was no more room, that the boat was full. One last man tumbled in and then the people in the boat pushed away, and men on the _Sussex_ helped. Others continually threw gratings and planks overboard.

ALMOST SWAMPED

“Our boat was dangerously overcrowded. Already she was half swamped. I wondered when she would upset. A man on either side seized gratings and towed them alongside. One made a herculean effort and pulled the man whose knee I had been holding into our boat, and nearly upset her. No one said a word. He was an elderly man, and his fat face was white and piteous. His hands never ceased trembling. He had had a terrible fright. Some one suggested getting out the oars, and others said it was impossible, as they were underneath us all. However, it was managed, and several men stood up and changed places. Again we nearly upset. I joined with the others in commanding these wild folk to sit still. Three oars were produced. One was given to a young and sickly looking Frenchman opposite to me. He did not know how to use it. Everyone shouted to get away from the steamer. The water had now reached my knees, and I began to notice how cold it was.