There stood two sentries with fixed bayonets; there was another couple near the hatch over our heads. When the latter was closed down from outside, we sat as in a trap. The portholes of our habitation were blinded by iron shutters, so that none of us should be able to look out or flash signals. After a short time a slight tremor ran through the ship, the engines started, and our swimming prison, rising and sinking slightly, drifted out into the open sea. The journey lasted for days. We sat, closely guarded, shut up in our room. Once a day we were allowed on deck to get a breath of fresh air. A most primitive lavatory had been erected on the fore-deck with a few boards, and whoever wanted to use it had to report himself to the sentry. Only one person at a time was allowed to appear on deck for this purpose. The food was good—real sailors’ rations—especially the bread, the butter and the abundant supply of excellent jam. We beguiled the time away by reading, story-telling; above all, we discussed our future from all points of view, and what lay in store for us in England. The two sentries, who always kept watch below, soon became quite friendly, and we often frightened the poor Tommies into fits by tales of what happened on the Western Front. Rough weather greeted us in the Bay of Biscay. It was a dreadful state of affairs for the fifty-six of us shut up in that restricted space, without light or air, and the majority sea-sick. The sentries, and the English soldiers who brought us our food, however, suffered most, and presented a pitiful spectacle. But when we got into the Channel the crew was seized with general nervousness and agitation. Drills with life-belts were held daily, our recreation-hour on deck was suspended, and the English soldiers never stopped questioning us fearfully in regard to our U-boats! And didn’t we make it hot for them! At last, after ten days, we landed at Plymouth. When the chain cable rattlingly uncoiled itself, and we knew that we were safe in port and had escaped U-boats, we watched through the bulkhead the English soldiers falling on their knees and singing hymns of praise and gratitude for their salvation from the German submarines. Immediately after our arrival a tender came alongside and conveyed us to terra firma—of course under imposing escort. The English authorities were evidently unprepared for such a _large_ consignment of prisoners. They simply lost their heads. No one knew what to do with us, no one what to advise.