pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">The Attack

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Chapter I

KEELING ISLAND

“I report for duty the landing squad from the ship,—three officers, six petty officers, and forty men strong.”

It was on the ninth of November, 1914, at six o’clock in the morning that I reported for duty to the commanding officer of His Majesty’s ship, Emden, Captain von Mueller, at the gangway of the ship. The Emden was lying at anchor in Port Refuge, a harbor formed by Keeling Reefs. Alongside were the two cutters in which the officers and men of the landing squad had already taken their places. The steam launch was ready to push off and tow them ashore. My orders were to destroy the wireless telegraph and cable station on Direction Island, which is the most northerly island of the Keeling group, and to bring back with me, in so far as possible, all signal books, secret code books, and the like.

Three cables run from Direction Island, one line to Mauritius, another to Perth in Australia, and a third to Batavia. As this station was the last absolutely British connection between Australia and the motherland—the other cables having been cut by some of the other ships of our cruising fleet—we had every reason to suppose that we would meet with vigorous military resistance. For this reason we were taking with us all of the four machine guns that the Emden carried. Two were aboard the steam launch, the others had been put on the cutters. The men were equipped with rifles, side arms, and pistols. The launch took the cutters in tow, and we were off for Direction Island.

Even quite small boats must pick their way very carefully while within the waters of this atoll, [1]in order to avoid the numerous, constantly changing coral reefs. The course that we were to take from the ship to the point at which we were to land, covered a distance of about 3000 meters.

Direction Island is very flat, and is covered with a luxuriant growth of tall palms. Among their towering tops we could discern the roofs of the European houses and the high tower of the wireless station. This was our objective point, and I gave orders to steer directly for it. Just below our landing place a small white sailing vessel was riding at anchor.

“Shall we destroy that, too?” inquired one of my lieutenants, pointing to the little schooner.

“Certainly,” was my answer. “It has sailed on its last voyage. Detail a man at once to be ready with the explosive cartridges.”

With our machine guns and fire-arms ready for action, we landed at a little dock on the beach, without meeting with resistance of any kind, and, falling into step, we promptly proceeded to the wireless station. The destruction of the little white sail-boat was deferred for the time being, as I wished first of all to find out how affairs on shore would develop.

We quickly found the telegraph building and the wireless station, took possession of both of them, and so prevented any attempt to send signals. Then I got hold of one of the Englishmen who were swarming about us, and ordered him to summon the director of the station, who soon made his appearance,—a very agreeable and portly gentleman.

“I have orders to destroy the wireless and telegraph station, and I advise you to make no resistance. It will be to your own interest, moreover, to hand over the keys of the several houses at once, as that will relieve me of the necessity of forcing the doors. All fire-arms in your possession are to be delivered immediately. All Europeans on the island are to assemble in the square in front of the telegraph building.”

The director seemed to accept the situation very calmly. He assured me that he had not the least intention of resisting, and then produced a huge bunch of keys from out his pocket, pointed out the houses in which there was electric apparatus of which we had as yet not taken possession, and finished with the remark: “And now, please accept my congratulations.”

“Congratulations! Well, what for?” I asked with some surprise.

“The Iron Cross has been conferred on you. We learned of it from the Reuter telegram that has just been sent on.”

We now set to work to tear down the wireless tower. The men in charge of the torpedoes quickly set them in place. The stays that supported the tower were demolished first, and then the tower itself was brought down and chopped into kindling wood. In the telegraph rooms the Morse machines were still ticking busily. What the messages were we could not decipher, for they were all in secret code. But we chuckled with both amusement and satisfaction as we pictured to ourselves the astonishment of the senders, who were waiting in vain for a reply to their