$Unique_ID{how04645} $Pretitle{} $Title{True Stories Of The Great War I - Story Of The German Mine-Layers} $Subtitle{} $Author{Dohna-Schlodien, Count} $Affiliation{} $Subject{german moewe english sea wind } $Date{1916} $Log{} Title: True Stories Of The Great War Book: The Log Of The "Moewe" - Tales Of The High Seas Author: Dohna-Schlodien, Count Date: 1916 Translation: Martin, Eugenie I - Story Of The German Mine-Layers The Adventures Of A Modern Pirate Told by Count Dohna-Schlodien, her Commander, and Translated by Eugenie Martin [Everybody has heard of the Moewe, the German auxiliary cruiser which on two occasions at least stole through the British blockade and roamed about the Atlantic, sinking ships and occasionally sending a prize like the Appam into port. Count Dohna-Schlodien, the captain of this latter-day privateer, is a popular hero in Germany. These tales are translations of the gist of his exploits, as told in the Wide World Magazine.] "To lay mines along the enemy-shores and then make a cruiser-campaign." Such, briefly, were my orders when I was appointed commander of S. M. S. Moewe at the end of 1915. It is easy to imagine my pride and elation. To lay mines and injure the enemy's sea-borne trade! Neither of these duties was new to the German Navy. The clamorous complaints in the daily newspapers, voicing the indignation of England, France, and Italy concerning the heavy losses sustained by their mercantile navy and cruisers, as well as against our interference with their over-sea connections, were sufficient testimony to the activity of our U-boats in the North Sea, the Irish Sea, the Mediterranean, and the Black Sea. It fell to my share, however, to take a German cruiser successfully into the far world-sea, where, since the exploits of the Karlsruhe, the Dresden, the Emden, the Ayesha, and the auxiliary cruisers Prince Eitel Friedrich and Kronprinz the German flag had not dared to show itself owing to the overwhelming superiority of the enemy. We Germans were sick of hearing England boast that her fleet had driven us from the highways of the ocean, and that her navy safeguarded the routes between Europe and the United States, Africa, and Australia. When I got my orders, I realized fully that if my plans were to succeed, we must not count on daring and good luck alone, but that cunning must make up for what we lacked in strength. Shortly before Christmas we made a few brief trial-trips. Then we busied ourseves with the final and not least important of our preparations - an attempt to give the Moewe the aspect of an inoffensive merchant vessel. Beaming with pleasant anticipations, the crew set to work, and to such good purpose did they labor that within a few hours the Moewe, under her fresh coating of paint, was - outwardly at least - transformed into an ordinary merchantman. Not even the most suspicious English man-of-war would ever imagine for a moment what a dangerous cargo she carried. But all this labor of love was wasted. A heavy storm and a deluge of rain forced us to suspend our work, and the next morning the Moewe was in a sorry plight. The fresh paint had run in streaks, and made her look like a marine zebra. Fortunately, the weather remained dry the night before we were to start. The painting was done again, and the work was accomplished, this time with notable success, for as a result of the damp first layer of paint the final coating did not look too aggressively new. We raised anchor and steamed out of port in a fog. Soon we exchanged farewell greetings with the German outpost boats, and, shortly after, reached the zone where at any moment we might run against an English destroyer or submarine. Everyone on board was strung up to the highest pitch. What would the next moment bring us? I recalled the remark of a friend who, on hearing of my appointment, asked: "After all, what do you expect to do? The very first day you will be captured!" From the moment we were in the open sea we were prepared for battle, and anyone who had attacked us, small or big, would soon have discovered that the Moewe was not quite so peaceful and tame as she looked. Nevertheless, I must admit that too premature an encounter would have been fatal to our object. As luck would have it, the weather favored us; a thick fog encompassed us, and that first night was as dark as we could have wished. I told the crew briefly what was expected from them, and pleasure showed in the face of every man when he heard we were out against England, for to wipe out the hated English foe is the dearest wish of every German sailorman. At dawn, after successful evading all notice, we were in sight of Norway's snow-capped mountains, and we continued our route with a favorable wind. The day was exceptionally fine, and the fact that the first difficulties had been so easily overcome filled me with confidence in the future. It depended now entirely upon me to lead my faithful crew and our good ship to the desired goal and injure the enemy wherever we might find him. The last day of the old year turned out to be the hardest we had experienced hitherto. To get as close as possible to the English shores was our aim, but an angry west wind continually obstructed us and interrupted our course. I soon got sick of waiting and preferred to run the risk of fighting the wind. I had to reckon, however, with a specially furious sea. Drenched to the skin, I finally gave up the struggle, and allowed the ship to drift for hours. In the afternoon the wind abated, and it was once more possible to take a southerly course. At last, when the lead gave twenty-five fathoms, a powerful coast-light suddenly shed its radiance upon us. We now knew all we wanted to know, and we turned back, with the intention of steering straight for this spot on the following day. Meanwhile, the new year had come in, minus the usual bell-ringing and songs! At seven o'clock in the morning I entered my cabin drenched and frozen. The New Year began well. We lay so quietly under the mild, westerly wind that, having still a couple of hours before beginning our mine-laying, we set to work painting the sides of the vessel, badly damaged by the weather. Then, in broad daylight, we slowly steered for the English coast.