..."
"... when there was a blinding flash and the air seemed filled with
moaning fragments"
"When I put up my periscope at 9 a.m. the horizon seemed to be ringed
with patrols"
* * * * *
INTRODUCTION
"I would ask you a favour," said the German captain, as we sat in the
cabin of a U-boat which had just been added to the long line of
bedraggled captives which stretched themselves for a mile or more in
Harwich Harbour, in November, 1918.
I made no reply; I had just granted him a favour by allowing him to
leave the upper deck of the submarine, in order that he might await the
motor launch in some sort of privacy; why should he ask for more?
Undeterred by my silence, he continued: "I have a great friend,
Lieutenant-zu-See Von Schenk, who brought U.122 over last week; he has
lost a diary, quite private, he left it in error; can he have it?"
I deliberated, felt a certain pity, then remembered the _Belgian
Prince_ and other things, and so, looking the German in the face, I
said:
"I can do nothing."
"Please."
I shook my head, then, to my astonishment, the German placed his head
in his hands and wept, his massive frame (for he was a very big man)
shook in irregular spasms; it was a most extraordinary spectacle.
It seemed to me absurd that a man who had suffered, without visible
emotion, the monstrous humiliation of handing over his command intact,
should break down over a trivial incident concerning a diary, and not
even his own diary, and yet there was this man crying openly before me.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25