Aircraft and Submarines Part 29

We slowly a.s.sembled our proper legs and arms and thought hard over what had happened.

The vessel had slanted down toward the bows at an angle of about 36 degrees. She was standing, so to speak, on her head. Our bow was fast upon the bottom of the sea--our stern was still oscillating up and down like a mighty pendulum. The manometer showed a depth of about 15 meters.[2]

[Footnote 2: ]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Permission of _Scientific American_.

_Diagram of a German Submarine Mine-Layer Captured by British._]

However, the _Deutschland_ finally worked herself free and soon was again on the surface. Luck must have been with her, for she had suffered no damage and, in spite of the mountains of water which she must have thrown up, the hostile destroyer had not discovered her.

Once more she was off on her way.

So the days went by and before long the merchant submarine had pa.s.sed, without having been detected, beyond the territory in which British patrol boats were operating. Then came a succession of uneventful days and fine weather. Practically every day diving tests were made. One of these the captain describes as follows:

During these experimental diving tests we were treated to a spectacle of fairy-like loveliness.

I had set the rudder in such a way that the turret was travelling about three yards under water. Overhead the sun shone brilliantly and filled the deeps with a clear radiance. The pure water was luminous with colour--close at hand it was of a light azure blue, of fabulous clearness and transparent as gla.s.s. I could see the entire boat from the turret windows. The shimmering pearls of the air-bubbles which rise constantly from the body of the craft played about the entire length of the vessel from deck to bows, and every detail stood out in miraculous sharpness. Farther ahead there was a multi-coloured twilight. It seemed as if the prow kept pushing itself noiselessly into a wall of opalescent green which parted, glistening, and grew to an ethereal, rainbow-like translucency close at hand.

We were spell-bound by this vision of beauty. The fairy-like effect was increased by medusae which, poised in the transparent blue, frequently became entangled in the wires of the mine-guards or the railings and glowed like trembling fires of rose, pale gold, and purple.[3]

[Footnote 3: ]

But less pleasant things were in store for the _Deutschland's_ crew.

The nearer the boat came to the region of the Gulf Stream, the more violent the weather became. Though she still ran most of the time on the surface, it became necessary to keep all openings battened down.

Even the manhole, leading to the turret, could be kept open only for short periods. Naturally the temperature was rising all the time. It was midsummer and the Gulf Stream contributed its share of warmth. No wonder, therefore, that Captain Konig compares conditions below decks to a "veritable h.e.l.l," and then continues:

While in the Gulf Stream we had an outer temperature of 28 Celsius. This was about the warmth of the surrounding water.

Fresh air no longer entered. In the engine-room two 6-cylinder combustion motors kept hammering away in a maddening two-four time. They hurled the power of their explosions into the whirling crankshafts. The red-hot breath of the consumed gases went crashing out through the exhausts, but the glow of these incessant firings remained in the cylinders and communicated itself to the entire oil-dripping environment of steel. A choking cloud of heat and oily vapour streamed from the engines and spread itself like a leaden pressure through the entire ship.

During these days the temperature mounted to 53 Celsius.

And yet men lived and worked in a h.e.l.l such as this! The watch off duty, naked to the skin, groaned and writhed in their bunks.

It was no longer possible to think of sleep. And when one of the men fell into a dull stupor, then he would be aroused by the sweat which ran incessantly over his forehead and into his eyes, and would awake to new torment.

It was almost like a blessed deliverance when the eight hours of rest were over, and a new watch was called to the central or the engine-room.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Redrawn from _The Sphere_. Permission of _Scientific American_.

_A Submarine Discharging a Torpedo._]

But there the real martyrdom began. Clad only in an undershirt and drawers, the men stood at their posts, a cloth wound about their foreheads to keep the running sweat from streaming into their eyes. Their blood hammered and raced in their temples.

Every vein boiled as with fever. It was only by the exertion of the most tremendous willpower that it was possible to force the dripping human body to perform its mechanical duty and to remain upright during the four hours of the watch....

But how long would we be able to endure this?

I no longer kept a log during these days and I find merely this one note: "Temperature must not rise any higher if the men are to remain any longer in the engine-room."

But they did endure it. They remained erect like so many heroes, they did their duty, exhausted, glowing hot, and bathed in sweat, until the storm centre lay behind us, until the weather cleared, until the sun broke through the clouds, and the diminishing seas permitted us once more to open the hatches.[4]

[Footnote 4: ]

The _Deutschland_ was now near her goal. Without any trouble she entered Hampton Roads and was docked at Baltimore. There her cargo was discharged and her return cargo loaded. This latter operation involved many difficulties. During her stay a United States Government Commission made a detailed inspection of the _Deutschland_ to determine beyond all question her mercantile character. But at last the day of departure, August 1, had arrived.

Properly escorted she made the trip down the Patapsco River and Chesapeake Bay. On her way down she made again diving trials which Captain Konig describes as follows:

In order to see that everything else was tight and in good order, I gave the command to set the boat upon the sea bottom at a spot which, according to the reading upon the chart, had a depth of some 30 meters.

Once again everything grew silent. The daylight vanished the well-known singing and boiling noise of the submerging vents vibrated about us. In my turret I fixed my eyes upon the manometer. Twenty meters were recorded, then twenty-five. The water ballast was diminished--thirty meters appeared and I waited the slight b.u.mp which was to announce the arrival of the boat at the bottom.

Nothing of the sort happened.

Instead of this the indicator upon the dial pointed to 32--to 33--to 35 meters....

I knocked against the gla.s.s with my finger--correct--the arrow was just pointing toward thirty-six.

"Great thunder! what's up?" I cried, and reached for the chart.

Everything tallied. Thirty meters were indicated at this spot and our reckoning had been most exact.

And we continued to sink deeper and deeper.

The dial was now announcing 40 meters.

This was a bit too much for me. I called down to the central and got back the comforting answer that the large manometer was also indicating a depth of over forty meters!

The two manometers agreed.

This, however, did not prevent the boat from continuing to sink.

The men in the central began to look at one another....

Ugh! it gives one a creepy feeling to go slipping away into the unknown amidst this infernal singing silence and to see nothing but the climbing down of the confounded indicator upon the white-faced dial....

There was nothing else to be seen in my turret. I glanced at the chart and then at the manometer in a pretty helpless fashion.

In the meantime the boat sank deeper; forty-five meters were pa.s.sed--the pointer indicated forty-eight meters. I began to think the depth of the Chesapeake Bay must have some limit; we surely could not be heading for the bottomless pit? Then--the boat halted at a depth of fifty meters without the slightest shock.

I climbed down into the central and took counsel with Klees and the two officers of the watch.

There could be only one explanation; we must have sunk into a hole which had not been marked upon the chart.[5]

[Footnote 5: ]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Permission of _Scientific American_.

_A German Submarine in Three Positions._]

When orders were now given to rise, it was found that the exhaust pumps refused to work. After a while, however, the chief engineer succeeded in getting them started. They reached the surface after about two hours of submergence.

It was dark by the time the merchant submarine was approaching the three-mile limit. Outside of it hostile warships were lying in wait.

That the _Deutschland_ escaped them well ill.u.s.trates the fact that submarines may be kept by various means from entering a bay or a harbour, but that to blockade their exit is practically impossible.