The Adventures of the U-202 Part 5

"What will happen if the steamer goes to England and tells our position? Following the events of yesterday afternoon, this morning and now, the English can easily figure out our course."

"By Jove, you are right there! I had not happened to think of that. It is indeed true that one gets duller as the years go by. That must be prevented under all circ.u.mstances, especially on account of to-morrow.

You know what then-don't you?"

Groning nodded.

"Yes, to-morrow we'll have a trying day," I continued, "and, if we are going to succeed, we can't make conditions any harder for ourselves."

I was pondering the question of how we were going to avoid the danger of being betrayed by the fishermen without endangering their lives, which I did not want to do. I thought this over for a moment. Suddenly I struck my forehead with my hand and laughed.

"So stupidly foolish! One is never able to think of the simplest way!" I said. "We'll simply shift the entire crowd to one of the sailing-ships.

With this light breeze, it will take them at least three days to reach the coast and, after that, it does not matter. It will be a little crowded for so many people, but that can't be helped."

"And the provisions?" Groning asked. "What are they going to live on?"

"That's simple," I answered. "First of all they can take off all the provisions from the steamer and, besides that, they have all the fish in the sailing-ship."

I sank the smaller of the two sailboats and then approached the steamer which had taken aboard the crews from the other boats.

The captain of the steamer was bitterly disappointed, of course, when I brought him word that all hands would have to go to the sailboat. He had been so delighted to be the one chosen to keep his steamer. On the other hand, to the captain of the sailing-ship, the message that he could go back to his old, faithful smack came as a gift from heaven.

Yes, indeed, joy and sorrow lie close together and go hand in hand.

After a short half hour the shift was made, and the steamer also went down into the deep-the fifteenth ship within two hours. First the skipper carefully hauled up his nets and then with flapping sails slowly swung around and laid his course toward the west.

During the night we dropped down to the bottom of the ocean at X--. We wanted to get some rest for one night and gather strength for the next day. It is comfortable to lie in the soft sands of the North Sea. It is as if the whole boat went to bed. One thing necessary for this comfort was a calm surface, because a heavy sea is felt at a great depth and throws and bangs the boat back and forth on the bottom.

Slowly the boat slipped deeper and deeper. We had taken soundings before submerging. The nearer we came to the bottom the slower the dynamo motors worked, and I at last stopped them entirely when we were a few meters from the bottom. As soon as we had stopped sinking, which could be told by the fact the diving rudder was no longer working, a few liters of water were pumped into a ballast tank made for just this purpose. The boat became heavier and slowly sunk further.

"Now, we'll soon strike," I called down to the "Centrale" and looked at the manometer.

Hardly had the words left my lips when we felt a very gentle shock-much weaker than when a train stops-and knew we were at the bottom. Some more water was pumped into the ballast tanks in order to make the boat steadier and then each one at his post carefully examined scuttles and hatchways so that not a drop of water could leak through to us. From bow to stern it was reported:

"All is tight!"

Thereafter orders were given for the necessary guards, and then I let the crew leave their posts:

"All hands to be free to-night!"

Until to-morrow on the bottom of the ocean! No other restfulness can be compared with it. Rest after so much excitement which has stirred the emotions of us all; after such a day's work, is it possible that any one can appreciate how we enjoyed ourselves?

We did not care that we were not in port and that a mountain of ocean was over our heads. We felt as secure as if we had been at the safest spot in the world. From their posts the crew went past us, with pale, oily, and dirty faces, but with their eyes looking at me as they went by, proud, happy, radiant, so that my heart rejoiced.

There was some excitement among the crew. Every one washed, talked and laughed so that it was evident how happy and care-free they felt.

"Well, with what will you treat us to-day?" I asked the cook who, with great self-confidence-because he was an expert in his line-was standing before his little galley and stirring a steaming pot. "That smells wonderfully appetizing."

"Ox goulash and salt potatoes," answered the cook and with more eagerness stirred his pot. "It soon will be ready. It'll not take more than five minutes."

"Then I must hurry up," I replied, and went to my small cabin, where I had not put foot since five o'clock in the morning.

I put my cap, long scarf and oil-skin jacket on a hook, stretched myself in weary delight and washed myself energetically. This is a rare pleasure on a trip like ours. From the nearby room the happy talk of the officers reached my ears. I then heard a rattle of plates and forks, a cork popped from a bottle, and Groning opened the little door that separates my cabin from the room of the other officers.

"Herr Captain, dinner is ready," he said.

Soon we were sitting, four men in all, at a little, nicely decorated table, cutting into the steaming platter and drinking out of small seidels a magnificent sparkling wine. The past day's events had to be moistened a little with the best we had. This was our custom when the fortunes of war smiled graciously on us.

The electrical heating apparatus furnishes all the heat needed, but it still has the disadvantage that in the still, unchanged air, the heat arises so that the temperature at the floor is several degrees colder than at the ceiling. Even in our heavy sea-boots, we felt it a little, although, as a whole, we were warm and contented. The phonograph played continuously. The petty officers had taken charge of it and played one native song after another. What a thrill ran through me! At once there was silence. All talk stopped. German songs of the Fatherland were sung deep down at the bottom of the ocean right on England's coast. Inspired by the music, our hearts were filled with enthusiasm and a silent promise was made to give everything for the Fatherland-to become a scourge to the enemy and damage him with all our might.

Thereafter, the dance music, operettas, vaudeville songs, and ragtime were played. These stirred up a buoyant spirit. Especially there was much joy among the firemen and sailors in the crew's quarters. Funny songs could be heard from that direction. Dirty playing cards were dug out and soon there was a real German skat game in full swing.

During this time we, in the officers' mess, raised our gla.s.ses and drank toasts to one another and to the beautiful U-boat: "Rich spoils! A happy journey home! Long live the U-boat!" That is the U-boat toast.

The boat was lying very still. It didn't seem to stir.

"What an original idea for an artist!" said our engineer, who was poetically inclined, as he leaned back in his chair staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. "One can imagine a cross section of the boat showing our room at the North Sea's yellowish sand bottom, to which all kinds of crawling and swimming animals give life. In here four feasting, happy officers around a little table on which a warm electric light is shining with the wine bottle in the center and with the gla.s.ses raised to a solemn toast. Above-water, water, water-water to the height of a church steeple and, over it all, the glittering heavens full of stars and a small silver-white piece of the moon. If I were a painter I should immediately start with this motive for a picture."

"And give me the picture, I hope," I laughed. "And, after all, not such a bad idea about that picture-one should in reality propose such a motive to an artist."

"Maybe it would be possible to put in a couple of mermaids who look in through the conning tower window inquisitively and knock with their fingers on the gla.s.s," said Petersen, our youngest lieutenant, with a smile. "That would undoubtedly make the picture still more attractive."

Groning, who during the entire time had listened with a quiet smile to the conversation, took out his empty cigar holder, on which he always chewed when we were under water because, as a heavy smoker, he missed tobacco, as none of us was allowed to smoke inside the boat. Slowly he said with a touch of irony, in a deep, sympathetic voice:

"Here, my dear Petersen, you are an unreasonable rascal. If there are no women in the game, then there is no pleasure for you. Doesn't the fellow actually talk about mermaids when he tells us every fourth week he is going to become engaged. 'This time it's absolutely certain! This time I surely will do it, as I will never find such a girl again.' This and more I hear every month. What was the last one's name that you intended to make happy-your March girl? Wait, I have it-the February girl-ha, ha, ha-has the captain heard the story of the February girl?"

He turned to me laughing.

"Will you shut up, Groning!" Petersen burst forth and blushed up to his ears. "I'll tell you that if you tell tales out of school-and besides--"

"Well, Petersen," I encouraged, "what 'besides'?"

"Besides, all that is not true," he continued and blushed still more when he noticed that he had betrayed himself. "_You_ should certainly keep quiet," he went on suddenly, beaming with an idea, and began to attack in order to lead the conversation away from himself. "He who lives in gla.s.s houses should be more careful."

"I-I-I-how so-that's the limit!" Groning angrily rejoined, as he considered it an honor to be known among his friends as a woman hater.

"I-in a gla.s.s house? It's a mean accusation, or have you been drinking too much wine, my dear boy?"

"Bah! only a gla.s.s," answered the younger officer, defending himself.

"It is ridiculous to claim anything like that."

"Well, well, be friends now, sirs," I said soothingly. "Don't let's quarrel down here at the bottom of the sea. I hereby decide that our younger officer is absolutely sober, but that, even so, he will not be allowed to let his April girl with her fishtail come in here, as a punishment, because he has jilted his February girl."

With this decision both these fighting roosters (really the best friends in the world) had to be pleased, and the eternal discussion of Eve and her daughters, which had nearly made the ocean bottom shake under our feet, was ended.

Shortly after this we went to bed in our narrow bunks-for the first time undressed on the voyage-and soon enjoyed a sleep free from dreams.