IN THE EASTER REBELLION, 1916 by Reserve-Lieutenant KARL SPINDLER of the German Navy Translated by W. MONTGOMERY, M.A. (Late Lieutenant R.N.V.R.) AND E. H. McGRATH, M.A. LONDON: 48 PALL MALL W. COLLINS SONS & CO. LTD. GLASGOW MELBOURNE AUCKLAND Copyright, 1921...

The date was the 21st of March, 1916. It was the usual Wilhelmshaven prize weather, blowing great guns, squalls chasing one another across the sea, grim, blue-gray clouds scudding unceasingly across the sky, while the rain battered on the window-panes and threatened at every fiercer gust to burst them in. I was just in from a spell of outpost duty, and was looking forward to a very comfortable day indoors, when some one hammered at the knocker. It was an orderly, bringing an urgent message from

We sailed on the following day for Wilhelmshaven, to complete our fitting out, and once arrived there, preparations were pushed on apace. Two or three specially picked, trustworthy dockyard hands, carried out such technical work as my own men were not able to deal with. Apart from this, no one was allowed to enter or leave the ship; even officers of the highest rank were refused admission. We were screened on the landside from curious eyes, as we lay alongside the much higher and larger Möwe , w

The clock in the neighbouring church-tower was clanging out the last of its six vigorous strokes as the Libau , under the mercantile flag, hauled out from the quay. A pleasant Sunday calm lay over the harbour. That the start took place on a Sunday was regarded by my men, according to an ancient sailors' superstition, as a good omen. Travemünde was passed shortly before dark, and, as we took farewell of the friendly little town, the engine-room telegraph rang for 'full speed ahead.' The voyage in

The Norwegian flag was flying gaily at the stern, when, after sunrise, the Aud weighed anchor. At first we found ourselves distinctly amusing in our new rôle. Every one went about in the most leisurely fashion possible (for on a tramp no one is ever in a hurry), rolling a little in our gait, pulling vigorously at a short pipe, and spitting with seamanlike skill to the four quarters of the heavens. Our hands, of course, were buried as deep as possible in our pockets. After passing the Gjedser lig

Towards nine o'clock there set in, unfortunately, a marked change of weather. A light wind from the west gradually dispersed the fog, so that it soon became quite clear, with good visibility. The moon had already risen, but considerately remained hidden behind a cloud, so that the silhouette of our ship was not very distinct. Towards midnight, we reckoned, we should be abreast of Lindesnaes. Here we expected to find the coast most closely watched by the English, since all traffic, whether from n

We were now four days out, and the most we had seen of the 'Grand Fleet' of the English was a couple of searchlights. I had been on the bridge all night, and had turned in for a short rest, when I was awakened by a loud tramping and shouting on deck. 'Smoke cloud on the port beam!' What could that be? Well, of course, it might be a trader, but it was just as likely to be a warship, for we were now approaching the Shetland cordon. For a quarter of an hour there was nothing to be seen but a great

Towards four o'clock of the following day we had reached the point aforesaid. And now it was hard to know what to do, for the air was still clear, the sea glassy-calm, with no indications of an early change. So far, we had seen no ice, though we were now on the edge of the Arctic Ocean. From that we might conclude that the route north-about round Iceland was not yet practicable, for the ice had not yet broken up. To run the blockade was, in existing circumstances, hopeless; especially as it was

During the night the storm increased in violence. A sea which struck us broadside on laid the Aud on her beam-ends, flung every one on deck into the lee scuppers, and swept away everything movable. Caution suggested lying to. But the date of my rendezvous now gave me only one day's margin, and the storm might last for days. There was nothing for it but to go ahead, and chance the cargo shifting—though the picture of those heavy cases in the half-empty hold breaking adrift and taking charge, was

It was Thursday, the 20th of April. A fresh, glorious morning. During the night the wind had died away. The air was still, and the broad, even undulations of a north-westerly swell made the only movement on the water. During the night the false casing round the funnel had been completed. In order to have everything ready for the landing when we reached Tralee Bay, the camouflage cargo had, of course, to be removed from above the munitions. This proved to be no light task, for the pit-props were

The following interesting dialogue, which was conducted in English, now took place between the captain of the Shatter and my mate. 'Where are you from?' No answer. 'Hallo! Where are you from?' Again no answer. 'Goddam! I asked you where are you from.' Düsselmann at last took the trouble to answer, and shouted across in a loud voice, 'Good-morning.' 'Hell and damnation,' shouted the English captain. 'I don't want your civilities. I want to know where you come from.' 'Then, first of all, would you

Shortly after 1 p.m. we noticed a small steamer beyond Kerry Head on the north side of the Shannon. The foam at her bows told us that she was travelling at high speed. As she was holding a westerly course I had at first no suspicions. She was still so far off that even with our prismatic glasses I could make out nothing. I therefore got the big glass, which had already stood me in good stead so many times, and perceived to my astonishment that the steamer had a long gun completely uncovered moun

Towards midnight there was a slight distraction. A half-flotilla of destroyers relieved our escort-ships—with the exception of the Bluebell , which remained as leader. The other cruisers again turned west. The night was so clear that we could clearly observe every detail in our neighbourhood. Northwards we noticed now and again the lights of passing vessels. If only a submarine would come along now and cut us out! But none came; and as the moon was now beginning to show there could be no doubt t

It was long past midnight. The moon was fairly high and it was a beautifully clear and calm night. Under ordinary circumstances one could not have wished for a better. Thousands and thousands of stars twinkled in the sky, and there was not a wisp of cloud to dim their glittering light. The sea was almost as smooth as glass, except when a gentle breeze momentarily ruffled its surface. The silence of this peaceful night was broken only by an occasional subdued word of command or a whistle on the e

We had no illusions about the future. Imprisonment was the best we could expect. If the English were disposed to be unmerciful, it would soon be all over with us. While more and more ships were hurrying to the spot where the Aud had sunk we rowed slowly towards the Bluebell . We could hardly believe our eyes when on approaching the cruiser we saw the reception prepared for us. The crew stood shoulder to shoulder along the ship's side, most of them with rifles at the ready. Every gun and machine-

At last I got tired of these continual failures, and began to see that these methods would never succeed. If I was going to escape it must be by some method that no one had yet thought of trying. Only in this way, aided by unlimited bluff, should I succeed. I was thinking not only of the actual escape from the camp, but of the possibility of getting out of the country. Escapes from all the camps had been made by the dozen, but only one in a hundred was actually successful. The worst of it was th

About 200 yards from the camp stood two tall, very old trees. Inside one of these, which was decayed and hollow, we hid our uniforms (which were now in tatters), so that the English, when they discovered our absence, should be under the impression that we had no civilian clothes and were still in uniform. We made first for the neighbouring wood in order to reach the road which leads from Donington to Trent. We had to make our way through thick undergrowth. It was so dark that we could scarcely s

We studied the map and found that practically in the centre of Nottingham there was a bridge over the Trent which was, at this point, about twice as broad as at Donington. We had to cross by this bridge in order to get to the aerodrome, for it was out of the question to think of swimming across the river, as I could hardly raise my arms now as high as my chest. With new courage and new strength we looked round for a sleeping place in a neighbouring field, so that we could walk into Nottingham at

As it was feared, however, that we had got to know the lie of the land too well, we were taken next day to another camp, Holyport. But as the commandant there had no desire to lose his position through some new prank of mine, he took the first opportunity of getting rid of me. A month later, therefore, I again changed my domicile, arriving at Kegworth, unfortunately a day too late to take part in the escape of the twenty-three officers under Captain von Müller of the Emden . They had dug, with i

Messrs COLLINS will always he glad to send their book lists regularly to readers who will send name and address. THE ROMANTIC By May Sinclair Author of The Tree of Heaven , etc. 'Wellnigh perfect.'— Evening Standard. 'Told in tingling words.'— Times Literary Supplement. 'A novel of curious power and intensity.'— Daily Telegraph. 'Grips our interest.'— Morning Post. 'Expressed with extraordinary vividness—brilliantly conceived.'— Daily News. ADAM OF DUBLIN By Conal O'Riordan ('Norreys Connell') A