Read Ebook: The Adventures of the U-202: An Actual Narrative by Spiegel E Edgar Freiherr Von

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Ebook has 562 lines and 28446 words, and 12 pages

The last streak of day became paler and paler in the west. The spook-like red cloud-riders stretched themselves more and more, became indistinct, pulled themselves asunder, and at once were swept away. In their place appeared the dark demon of the night, spread itself over heaven, hid all the stars, and settled heavily over the sea.

This was just a night suitable for us. One could not see one's hand before the eye. The steel covers on the tower windows were tightly shut, so that the least ray of light could not escape. Entirely invisible we were gliding forward in the dark. Dumb and immovable, each one was sitting at his post--the lieutenant, the subordinate officer, and the commander--trying with our eyes to pierce through the darkness and turning our heads continually from right to left and back again. The aim of our voyage was still far off and the fine weather had to be used.

Weakly, as if from a far distance, the phonograph's song reached us lonely watchmen:

"Reach me thy hand, thy dear hand; Live well, my treasure, live well! 'Cause we travel now to Eng-eland, Live well, my treasure, live well, 'Cause we travel now to Eng-eland."

AN EVENTFUL NIGHT

What peculiar sensations filled me. We were at war--the most insane war ever fought! And now I am a commander on a U-boat!

I said to myself:

"You submarine, you undersea boat, you faithful U-202, which has obediently and faithfully carried me thousands of miles and will still carry me many thousand miles! I am a commander of a submarine which scatters death and destruction in the ranks of the enemy, which carries death and hell fire in its bosom, and which rushes through the water like a thoroughbred. What am I searching for in the cold, dark night? Do I think about honor and success? Why does my eye stare so steadily into the dark? Am I thinking about death and the innumerable mines which are floating away off there in the dark, am I thinking about enemy scouts which are seeking me?

"No! It is nerves and foolish sentiments born of foolish spirits. I am not thinking about that. Leave me alone and don't bother me. I am the master. It is the duty of my nerves to obey. Can you hear the melodious song from below, you weakling nerves? Are you so dull and faint hearted that it does not echo within you? Do you not know the stimulating power which the thin metal voice below can inspire within you?

"This song brings greetings to you from a distance of twelve hundred miles and through twelve hundred miles it comes to you. Ahead we must look; we must force our eyes to pierce the darkness on all sides."

The spy-glass flew to the eye. There is a flash in the west. A light!

"That is no ordinary light. What about it?"

Lieutenant Petersen was looking through his night glasses at the light.

"I believe he is signaling," he said excitedly. "The light flashes continually to and fro. I hope it is not a scout ship trying to speak with some one."

Hardly had the lieutenant uttered these words when we all three jumped as if electrified, because certainly in our immediate neighborhood flashed before us several quick lights giving signals, which undoubtedly came from the ship second in line, which was signaling to our first friend.

"Great God! An enemy ship! Not more than three hundred meters ahead!" I exclaimed to myself.

"Hard a starboard! Both engines at highest speed ahead! To the diving stations!"

In a subdued voice, I called my commands down the tower.

The phonograph in the crew-room stopped abruptly. A hasty, eager running was discernible through the entire boat as each one hurried to his post.

The boat immediately obeyed the rudder and was flying to starboard. Between the two hostile ships there was a continuous exchange of signals.

"God be praised it is so dark!" I exclaimed with a deep breath as soon as the first danger had passed.

"And to think that the fellow had to betray his presence by his chattering signals just as we were about to run right into his arms," was the answer. "This time we can truly say that the good God, Himself, had charge of the rudder."

The engineer appeared on the stairway which leads from the "Centrale" up to the conning tower.

"May I go to the engine-room, Herr Captain-Lieutenant?"

It was not permissible for him to leave his diving station, the "Centrale," which is situated in the center of the boat, without special permission.

"Yes, Herr Engineer, go ahead down and fire up hard!" I replied.

The thumping of the heavy oil-motors became stronger, swelled higher and higher, and, at last, became a long drawn out roar, and entirely drowned the sound of the occasional jolts which always were distinctly discernible when going at slower speed. One truly felt how the boat exerted its strength to the utmost and did everything within its power.

We had put ourselves on another course which put the anxiously signaling Britishers obliquely aport of our stern, and rushed with the highest speed for about ten minutes until their lights became smaller and weaker. We then turned point by point into our former course, and thus slipped by in a large half circle around the hostile ships.

"Just as a cat around a bowl of hot oatmeal," said Lieutenant Petersen.

"No, my dear friend," I said laughingly, "it does not entirely coincide. The cat always comes back, but the oatmeal is too hot for us in this case. Or do you think that I intend to circle around those two rascals for hours?"

"Preferably not, Herr Captain-Lieutenant. It could end badly!"

"Both engines in highest speed forward, let the crew leave the diving stations, place the guards!" I ordered.

The danger had passed. Normal conditions at night could again be resumed. But before the morning set in, we again experienced all kinds of adventures. The night was as if bewitched. There was no sleep worth mentioning. I had hardly, towards ten o'clock, reached my comfortable little nest where the sailor Schultes, our own considerate "cup-bearer," had spread on my miniature writing-desk the most tempting delicacies of preserves and fruit together with a bottle of claret, when a whistle sounded in the speaking-tube on the wall right close to my head:

"Whee-e!" it shrieked, high, penetrating and alarming.

I jumped up, pulled out the stopper and put in the mouth-piece.

"Hello!"

"Two points from starboard a white light!"

I grabbed my cap and gloves and rushed sternward through the deck officer's room, petty officer's room, and crew-room, each one narrower than the other.

"Look out, the commander!" they shouted to one another, and pulled in their legs so that I could get by.

"Ouch!" I bumped my head hard against the stand of an electric lamp. I rubbed the sore spot as I hurried ahead, while I took an oath to myself that the lamp should be moved at the first possible opportunity. I hurried through the "Centrale," up the narrow stairway. Then I reached my place.

"Where?"

"There!" Lieutenant Gr?ning, who was on guard, pointed out. "About three points starboard!"

"It is a steamer. One can already see the red side lantern. It is crossing our course."

I put my binoculars to the eye and looked for many seconds for the light. The officer on guard was right. Besides the white lantern, one could see a deep, red light. The ship therefore was traveling towards the left and would cross our course.

A narrow strip of the moon had appeared from out of the sea and was wrestling with the darkness of the night. The result was not much--the strip of the moon was too small for that--still it was not so dark as before.

"Don't let it come too close to us!" I ordered. "And get clear in right time. We must not under any circumstances be seen by it, because then they would soon know in England from which direction to expect us. Now nearly every steamer has a wireless."

Gr?ning changed the course to port until he had the steamer completely to the left.

"Too bad, we can't take it with us," he said.

"No, you know, for a night attack this is not the right place. Here so many neutral steamers travel, and an error can easily be made."

It was shortly after ten o'clock. At eleven-twenty, twelve forty, one-ten, three-fifteen, and five o'clock I again heard the whistling "Whee-e!" in the speaking-tube by my bunk. Each time I had to jump out of some dream, realize within a fraction of a second that my presence was desired up-stairs, grab my cap and gloves, and rush through the boat's long body up to the tower, not without several times bumping into the aforementioned and often damned electric lamp.

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