The Diary of a U-boat Commander | Page 8

Brandenburgers, I could not make out which.
Luckily the gallant "Cockchafer" is at the moment on the La Bassée
sector, where I was interested to observe that heavy fighting has broken
out to-day. I must console the fair Zoe!
Both Karl and Adolf got rather drunk, Adolf hopelessly so, but I, as
usual, was hardly affected. I have a head of iron, provided the liquor is
good, and I saw to that point.
* * * * *
We were sailing, or rather going down the canal to Zeebrugge on
Friday, but the starting resistance of the port main motor burnt out and

we were delayed till Sunday, as they will fit a new one.
I must confess the organization for repair work here is admirable, as
very little is done by the crews in the U-boats, all work being carried
out by the permanent staff, who are quartered at Bruges docks. Taking
advantage of the delay I called on Zoe Stein, as I find she is named.
It appears she is not married to Colonel Stein. She told me he was fat
and ugly, and laughed a good deal about him. She showed me his
photograph, and certainly he is no beauty. However, he must be a man
of means, as he has given her a charming flat, beautifully decorated
with water-colours which the Colonel salved from the French château
in the early days--these army fellows had all the chances.
I bade an affectionate farewell to Zoe, and I trust Stein will be still
busily engaged at La Bassée when I return in a fortnight's time! I am
greatly obliged to Karl for the introduction, and told him so; he himself
is running after a little grass widow whose husband has been missing
for some months. I think Karl finds it an expensive game; luckily Zoe
seems well supplied with money--the essential ingredient in a joyous
life.
On Friday night we had an air-raid--a frequent event here, but my first
experience in this line. Unpleasant, but a fine spectacle, considerable
damage done near the docks and an unexploded bomb fell in a street
near our headquarters.
Two machines (British) brought down in flames. I saw the green balls
[1] for the first time. A most fascinating sight to see them floating up in
waving chains into the vault of heaven; they reminded me of making
daisy chains as a child.
[Footnote 1: Known as "Flying-onions."]

At Zeebrugge.
We are alongside the mole in one of the new submarine shelters that

has been built.
The boat is under a concrete roof over three feet thick, which would
defy the heaviest bomb.
We have much improved the port since our arrival. The port, so-called,
is purely artificial, and actually consists of a long mole with a gentle
curve in it, which reaches out to seaward and protects the mouth of the
canal. The tides are very strong up and down the coast, and constant
dredging is carried out to keep 20 feet of water over the sill at the lock
gates.
On arrival last night we went straight into No. 11 shelter, as an air-raid
was expected, but nothing happened, so I went up to the "Flandre,"
which seems to be the best hotel here, full of submarine people, and I
heard many interesting stories. There seems no doubt this U-boat war is
dangerous work; I find the U.C. boats are beginning to be called the
Suicide Club, after the famous English story of that name, which,
curiously enough, I saw on the kinematograph at Frankfurt last leave.
We Germans are extraordinarily broad-minded; I doubt if the works of
German authors are seen on the screens in England or France.
The news from the West is good, the English are hurling themselves to
destruction against our steel front. We are now to load up with mines. I
must stop writing to superintend this work.

At sea. Near the South Dogger Light.
We loaded up the ten mines we carry in an hour and five minutes. They
were lifted from a railway truck by a big crane and delicately lowered
into the mine tubes, of which we have five in the bows.
The tubes extend from the upper deck of the ship to her keel, and slope
aft to facilitate release. Having completed with fuel at Bruges, we took
in a store of provisions and Alten went up to the Commodore's office to
get our sailing orders.

We sailed at 6 p.m. and at last I felt I was off. To-day, the 22nd, we are
just north of the South Dogger, steering north-westerly at 9-1/2 knots.
The sea is quite calm and everything is very pleasant. Our mission is to
lay a small minefield off Newcastle in the East Coast war channel. I