4 - The Journal, Part 2. The Journal of Submarine Commander Von Forstner, by George-Gunther Freiherr von Forstner.

4 - The Journal, Part 2. The Journal of Submarine Commander Von Forstner, by George-Gunther Freiherr von Forstner.  
The Journal of Submarine Commander Von Forstner is a graphic account of WWI submarine warfare. Forstner was the commander of German U-boat U-28. His journal, first published 1916, gives a gritty picture of daily life inside a submarine and details several torpedo attacks on Allied shipping. The 1917 translation of Forstner’s journal into English was unquestionably intended to bolster the Allied war effort. In the foreword, the translator states: “Nothing at the present day has aroused such fear as this invisible enemy, nor has anything outraged the civilized world like the tragedies caused by the German submarines.”  

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Part two of the Journal of Submarine von Forstner. This
is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the
public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit
LibriVox dot org. Recording by Sue Anderson. The Journal of
Submarine Commander von Forstner by Georg Gunter Freher von Forstner,

(00:25):
translated by Anna Kraft's Codman, with commentary by John Hays
Hammond Junior. The Journal Part two, the captain quickly issues
his orders for the course to be steered and for
the necessary navigation. The officer in charge of the torpedoes
receives the command to clear the loaded torpedo for firing,

(00:47):
while the captain quietly calculates first the relative position of
his boat to the enemy's ship, according to the course
she is taken. Secondly, at which point he must aim
the torpedo to take surest effect. And in the same
way as in hunting a hare, he withholds the shot
to correspond to his victim's gait. Many thoughts fly through

(01:11):
his brain here among his companions, the annihilation of the
enemy will cause joyful enthusiasm, while among them their downfall
will cause overwhelming sorrow, but without doubt they must vanish
from the seas. And only a man who has experienced
these sensations knows how many secondary matters occur to him.

(01:35):
At such a time. With lowered periscope, he sees nothing
that goes on above him on the sea, and like
a blind man, the boat feels its way through the
green flood. Every possible event becomes a subject of conjecture.
Will the fellow continue on the same course. Has he
seen our periscope in the second it was exposed? And

(01:59):
is he running away from us? Or on the contrary,
having seen us, will he put on full steam and
try to run us down with a fatal death stroke
from his prow. At such an instant of high nervous tension,
I have caught myself giving superfluous orders to let myself relax.
And yet I knew that every man was at his post,

(02:22):
fully conscious that his own safety, the safety of the
whole boat, and the honor of the fatherland were all
at stake and dependent on his individual effort. I knew,
of course, that each fine fellow down in the machinery
room or at the torpedo tubes had done his very best,
and that all his thoughts were centered like mine in

(02:46):
keen expectancy on the firing of our first torpedo, the Eel,
as we call it, guarded with so much love and care,
which would speed along accompanied by our warmest wishes. We
give nicknames to our torpedoes, mostly feminine names. Side by
side below lie the Fat Bertha, the Yellow Mary, and

(03:09):
the shining Emma. And these ladies expected to be treated
like all ladies, with the tenderest care and courtesy. Now
comes the announcement from the torpedo officer. The torpedoes are
cleared for firing. He stands with a firm hand, awaiting
the signal from his commander to permit the torpedo to

(03:30):
drive ahead against the hated but unconscious adversary and to
bore its way with a loud report deep into the
great steel flank. Once again, the periscope springs for an
instant to the surface and then glides back into the
protecting body of the turret. The captain exclaims we are

(03:51):
at them, and the news spreads like wildfire through the crew.
He gives a last rapid order to straighten the course
of the boat. The torpedo officer announces torpedo ready, and
the captain, after one quick glance through the periscope as
it slides back into its sheath, immediately shouts fire. Even

(04:13):
without the prescribed announcement from the torpedo officer that the
torpedo had been sent off, every one knows that it
is speeding ahead, and for a few seconds we remain
in anxious suspense until a dull report provokes throughout our
boat loud cheers for Kaiser and for Empire, and by

(04:34):
this report we know that the fat Bertha has reached,
unhindered her destination. Radiant with joy, the commander breathes a
sigh of relief, and he does not check the young
sailor at the wheel, who seeks to grasp his hand
and murmur his fervent congratulations. But congratulations must be postponed

(04:56):
until we ascertain that our success is complete. And once again,
the periscope runs up towards the laughing daylight, while the commander,
in happy but earnest tones, utters the reassuring words the
ship is sinking. Further torpedoes can be spared. He then
permits the gratified torpedo officer, who stands by his side

(05:19):
a quick glance through the periscope to verify the result
of his own efficiency. It is chiefly owing to the
care of the personnel of the torpedo squad that the
torpedoes are maintained in such perfect condition, and that their
aim is so correct, and to them is due in
great part the success of our attack. The commander and

(05:41):
his officer exchange a knowing look, for they have seen
the enemy's ship heavily listing to one side, where the
water is rushing into the gaping wound, and soon she
must capsize. They see her crew hastily lowering the life boats,
their only means of escape. And this is a sufficient

(06:02):
proof of our victory. We can depart now in all security.
Concealing our presence, we plunge and vanish beneath the waters.
Having reached a certain distance, we stop to make sure
that our victim lies at the bottom of the ocean.
We behold the waves playing gently and smoothly as before

(06:22):
over the cold watery grave of the once proud ship,
and we hasten away from the scene of our triumph.
There is no need of our going to the help
of the enemy's crew struggling in the sea, for already
their own torpedo boats are hurrying to the sucker of
their comrades, and for us there is no further work

(06:44):
to be done. Imagine the enthusiasm our dear fallen Comrade
Weddingen and his crew must have felt as the loud
report of their last torpedo announced the destruction of their
third English armed cruiser. Chapter four mobilization and the beginning
of the Commercial War. After long and agitated waiting, we

(07:09):
received in the last days of July nineteen fourteen the
command to mobilize. Joyful expectation was visible on every face,
and the only fear that prevailed was that those of
us who were awaiting our orders on land might be
too late to take part in the naval battle we
were all looking forward to so eagerly. A few years ago,

(07:32):
one of the lords of the English Admiralty had predicted
that in the first naval battle fought between Germany and England,
the German fleet would be entirely annihilated. We naturally only
smiled in derision at these boastful words. The English newspapers, besides,
had for many years announced that whenever German officers met together,

(07:55):
they drank a toast to the day, although of course
this was a true yet we were all burning to
prove in battle what our great navy had learned in long,
hard working years of peace. A mighty engagement at sea
seemed to us imminent during these first days of war,

(08:15):
and we all longed to be in it. I was, however,
at the moment, among those unfortunates who were strapped down
to a desk in the Admiralty, and with envy I
beheld my comrades rushing to active service. For I had
always hoped to lead my old beloved U boat victoriously
against the enemy. We had all placed strong hopes in

(08:37):
the part our submarines would eventually play in a great crisis,
but we never dreamed that they would so successfully take
the first role as our most effective weapon in naval warfare.
With a happiness that can hardly be described, I suddenly
received the order to take over the command of a
fine new U boat, which had just been built at Keel.

(09:00):
Never before was a pen more quickly thrown aside and
a desk closed than when I handed over my duties
in the Admiralty to my successor. And shortly afterwards I
took possession of my new splendid boat to which I
was going to confide all my luck and all I
was humanly capable of doing. I addressed my crew in

(09:22):
a short speech and told them we could best serve
our almighty war Lord in bringing this new weapon of attack.
Confided to our care to the highest state of efficiency,
and my words were greeted with loud cheers. There was
much work to be done in putting the finishing touches
to our submarine, which had only just come off the ways.

(09:46):
The auxiliary machines had to be tested and certain inner
arrangements made, But thanks to the untiring zeal of the
crew and to the eager help we received from the
Imperial Navy Yard, our task was soon accomplished. After a
few short trial trips and firing tests, I was able

(10:06):
to declare our boat ready for sea and for war,
And after everything had been formally surveyed by the Inspector,
we left our home port before the middle of August,
departing at a high speed. We bade farewell to the
big ships still at their moorings, and we soon joined
our fellow submarines who had already in the first fortnight

(10:30):
of war. According to an announcement of the Admiralty's staff
made a dash as far as the English coast, and
here is the proud record of what they further accomplished.
At the beginning of September nineteen fourteen, the English cruiser
Pathfinder was torpedoed by Lieutenant Captain Hersing, who later sunk

(10:52):
the two ships of the line, Triumph and Majestic in
the Dardanelles, and was rewarded with our highest order, Poor
Le Marie. This initial success proclaimed our submarines to be
our greatest weapon of offense, and their importance became of
worldwide renown. For we claim the honor of having fired

(11:12):
the first successful torpedo shot from a submarine. It opened
a new era in maritime warfare, and was the answer
to many questions which had puzzled the men of our
profession the whole world over. Above all, we had proved
that a German U boat, after a long and difficult voyage,

(11:33):
could reach the enemy's coast, and, after penetrating their line
of defense, was able to send one of their ships
to the bottom of the sea with one well aimed
torpedo shot. The age of the submarine had truly begun.
Other victories followed in prompt succession. Weddingen's wonderful prowess off

(11:56):
the Hook of Holland on September twenty second, nineteen fourteen
will never be forgotten. In the space of an hour
he sunk the three English armored cruisers Kresse, Haig and
Abu Kir, and shortly afterwards dispatched their comrade Hawk to
keep them company at the bottom of the North Sea.

(12:17):
Let me add to this list the English cruiser Hermes
near Dover the Niger off the downs of the English coast,
the Russian cruiser Pallada in the Baltic and a great
number of other English torpedo boats, torpedo boat destroyers, as
well as auxiliary cruisers and transports. All this was achieved

(12:38):
before the end of nineteen fourteen. Unfortunately, I am not
at liberty for obvious reasons to describe my own part
in the beginning of the war, but hope to be
able to do so after we achieve a victorious peace.
Our dear cousins on the other side of the Channel
must have been rather disquieted by the loss of so

(12:59):
much shipping as the hands of our boats or of
our mines, and they must have realized that a new
method of warfare had begun for their fleet. No longer
paraded in the North Sea or in any of the
waters in the war zone. Their great valuable ships were withdrawn,
and the patrol of their coast was confided only to

(13:20):
smaller craft and to the mine layers, in order that
their people might supposedly sleep in peace. Our adversary was
concealed by day and only ventured forth at night, confident
that darkness would insure his safety. This was then the
hour for us to lie in watch for our prey.
And no more glorious clarion call could have heralded in

(13:45):
the new year than the torpedo shot which on the
New Year's Eve of nineteen fifteen sent the mighty ship
of the Line Formidable to the bottom of the Channel.
This was our first triumphant victory, which showed that not
even darkness could circumvent our plans, and which dispelled all

(14:05):
further doubts as to our efficiency. A few days after
the sinking of the Formidable, a piece of one of
the row boats was washed ashore at Zebruga and now
adorns our Sea Museum as the only reminder left of
the great ship. We stood at last on the same
footing as our dear old sister, the torpedo boat, to

(14:27):
whom we in reality owed our present development, and from
now on in proud independence, we were justified in considering
ourselves a separate branch of the Navy. Now that England
felt obliged to withhold the activities of her fleet, she
instigated against us the commercial blockade and Hunger War. She

(14:49):
obliged Neutrals to follow a prescribed route, and by subjecting
their vessels to search, she prevented them from selling us
any of their wares. In this manner, she sought to
redeem herself from the paralysis we had brought on her fleet,
and her unscrupulous treatment of the right of nations and
her interpretation of the so called freedom of the seas

(15:12):
are only too well known. We retaliated on February fourth,
nineteen fifteen, by prescribing a certain danger zone which extended
around Great Britain and Ireland and along the north coast
of France. By this interdict, public opinion was enlightened as
to the part our U boats were going to perform

(15:34):
in this new commercial warfare. A part I must admit
that few people had anticipated. Before the commencement of hostilities.
Of course, new demands were to be made upon us.
We should have to make long undersea trips and remain
for some time in the enemy's waters, after which we
should have to return unperceived. The English called it German bluff,

(15:59):
but their to soon changed after we had made our
first raid in the heart of the Irish Channel, and
few of them now ventured abroad, except when forced by
the most imperative obligations. At the end of October nineteen fourteen,
the first English steamer, Glitra, was sunk off the Norwegian coast.

(16:20):
It carried a cargo of sewing machines, whiskey and steel
from Leith. The captain was wise enough to stop at
the first signal of the commander of the U boat,
and he thereby saved the lives of his crew, who
escaped with their belongings after the steamer was peacefully sunk.
If others later had likewise followed his example, innocent passengers

(16:42):
and crew would not have been drowned, and after all,
people are fond of their own lives. But these English
captains were following the orders of their government to save
their ships through flight. The English authorities even went so
far as to inaugurate a sharp shooting system at sea
by offering a reward to any captain who rammed or

(17:04):
destroyed a German submarine, although the latter could only obey
this command at the risk of their lives. But what
cared the rulers in England for the existence of men
belonging to the lower classes of the nation. They offered
tempting rewards for these exploits in the shape of gold watches,
and bribed the captains of the merchant marine with the

(17:24):
promise of being raised to the rank of officers in
the reserve. Therefore, the British newspapers were filled with the
account of the destruction of German u boats and of
the generous rewards given for these fine deeds. It was
jolly for us, on our return to Port to read
the record of our own doom, and scarcely would there

(17:47):
be a submarine afloat if these records had been true.
I should like to tell a short story in connection
with these assertions of English prowess. One of their small
steamers had actually contrived, in misty weather to ram the
turret of one of our submarines. While it was in
the act of submerging. The English captain was loudly praised

(18:09):
in all the newspapers and received the promised rewards for
having sunk, as he declared a German U boat he
had distinctly felt, he said, the shock of the collision.
His statement was certainly accurate, for the submarine was also
conscious of the shock. But it was fortunately followed with
no evil results, and our commander had the joyful surprise

(18:33):
shortly afterwards when he emerged to find the blade of
the foe's propeller stuck in the wall of the turret,
whose excellent material had preserved it from serious injury. We
happily hope that the German Empire will never run so
short of bronze that it will be obliged to appropriate
for the melting pot this fine propeller blade, which is

(18:57):
one of the many interesting trophies preserved in our submarine Museum.
Chapter five. Our own part in the commercial War and
our first captured steamer. As we have said above, our
war against the merchant marine of the Allied Nations began
in February nineteen fifteen throughout the war zone established around

(19:20):
the English and French coasts. Day after day, the number
increased of steamers and sail boats that we had sunk,
and commercial relations between all countries were seriously menaced. The
English were forced to believe in our threats, and even
the shipping trade of the Neutrals had greatly diminished. The

(19:40):
mighty British fleet no longer dared to patrol the seas,
and the merchantmen were told to look out for themselves,
and were even armed for the purpose. While the winter lasted,
there was not much for us to do, and we
awaited fine weather with lively impatience. During this period, our
victor toorious armies had occupied Belgium and Serbia and conquered

(20:04):
the Russian girdle of fortifications. The subsequent participation of Italy
produced but little impression on the fortunate current of events,
whereas Turkey's entrance at our side in the war opened
a new field of operation for our U boats in
the Mediterranean. At last, I myself was ordered to prepare

(20:25):
for a long voyage, which I welcomed most joyfully. After
several months of comparative inaction, we were to remain in
the enemy's waters for several weeks, which of course involved
the most elaborate preparations. Every portion of the boat was
again minutely inspected, every machine repaired and thoroughly tested. Like

(20:47):
a well groomed horse, we must be in perfect condition
for the coming race. Each man in the crew holds
a responsible position and knows that the slightest neglect endangers
the welfare of the whole boat. The commander must be
certain that everything is completed according to the highest standard.
The boat is frequently submerged and performs various exercises under

(21:12):
seas while it is still safe in the friendly waters
off our own coast. We are always abundantly provisioned for
the thirty men must be given the most nourishing food
to be fit for their arduous tasks. I have often
laughed to see the quantity of provisions placed on deck
for the dealers, of course, are never allowed to penetrate

(21:33):
the inner shrine of the boat, and yet we have
often returned from a long cruise because our food was
coming to an end. Every available corner and space is
filled with provisions. The cook, a sailor specially trained for
the job, must hunt below in every conceivable place for
his vegetables and meats. The latter are stored in the

(21:56):
coolest quarters, next to the munitions. The saw sausages are
put close to the red grenades, the butter lies beneath
one of the sailor's bunks, and the salt and spice
have been known to stray into the commander's cabin below
his berth. When everything is in readiness, the crew is
given a short leave on land to go and take

(22:18):
the much coveted hot bath. This is the most important
ceremony before and after a cruise, especially when the men return,
for when they have remained unwashed for weeks, soaked with
machine oil and saturated with salt spray, their first thought

(22:39):
is a hot bath at sea. We must be very
sparing of our fresh water supply, and its use for
washing must be carefully restricted. The commander usually spends the
eve of his departure in the circle of his comrades,
but it is a solemn moment for him. As soon

(22:59):
as he sails from his native shore, he becomes responsible
for every action which is taken, and for many weeks
no orders reach him from his superiors. He is unable
to ask anyone's advice or to consult with his inferiors,
and he stands alone in the solitude of his higher rank.

(23:21):
Even the common sailor is conscious of the seriousness of
the task ahead and of the adventures which may occur
below seas. No loud farewells, no jolly hand, no beckoning
girls are there to bid us God's speed. Quietly and
silently do we take our departure. Neither wife, nor child,

(23:42):
nor our nearest and dearest. No whither we go. If
we remain in home waters, or if we go forth
to encounter the foe, we can bid no one farewell.
It is through the absence of news that they know
that we have gone, and no one is aware except
the spell high officer in this department of the Admiralty,

(24:03):
who gives the Commander his orders on what errand we
are bound or when we shall return. For the slightest
indiscretion might forfeit the success of our mission. Before dawn
on the day of our departure, the last pieces of
equipment and of armament are put on board, and the
machinery is once more tested. Then at the appointed hour,

(24:27):
the chief engineer informs the commander that everything is ready.
A shrill whistle bids the crew cast loose the moorings
and At the sound of the signal bell, the boat
begins to move. As we glide rapidly out of port,
we exchange by mutual signs a few last greetings with
our less favored comrades on the decks of the ships

(24:50):
we leave behind, who no doubt also long to go
forth and meet the enemy. The land begins to disappear
in the distance, and as we gaze at the bobbing
buoys that vanish in our wake, we hope that after
a successful journey, they will again be our guides as
we return to our dear German homes. After gliding along

(25:13):
smoothly at first, we soon feel the boat tossing among
the bigger waves. But we laugh as they heave and
dip around us, for we know everything is ship shaped
on board, and that they can do us no harm.
The wild seas are bearing us onward towards the hated foe,
and after all, in the end they lull so peacefully

(25:37):
to sleep the sailor in his eternal rest. End of
Part two.