He could not know, of course, of the ruthless philosophy that was to come out of the next few years. He believed that those who had no part in actual battle—the women, the children, the innocent who did not make it happen, but to whom it happened, no matter which side they chanced to be on— were to be protected as much as possible. That was the course he meant to follow. He hoped it would be the same for all.
In their five-day quarter-circular sweep south and west into the Carolines they intercepted wireless transmissions suggesting that they were not operating alone in the area. From the call letters they were able to guess that the ships were English, though they could not be definitely identified, since the signals were in code. Their best guess was that the ships were either the heavy armored cruisers Minotaur or Hampshire, or both, and the lighter cruiser Yarmouth.
Such a force was to be avoided at all costs if they were to retain their own utility. Still, had they realized that even as they slipped southward, just over the horizon, all three of the English ships were in the act of smashing German installations on the island of Yap, they would probably have turned and gone to the rescue despite their obvious inferiority.
By so much as a hair, however, did they miss. They passed within less than two hundred miles at the very moment when the raid was taking place, but knew nothing about it until several days later.
Kurt Witthoeft was watch officer in the still, dark hours of the dawn, when the dark bulk of Angaur loomed against the horizon. He promptly ordered the launch readied for lowering, and in accord with his instructions, rang the Captain's cabin.
"Yes?" came von Mueller's voice quickly over the wire.
"Angaur in sight, sir," said Witthoeft.
"Thank you, Kurt," von Mueller replied. "Have the launch swung over and call its crew to stand by. Leutnant von Hohenzollern will be in command. See that he is called immediately. I will be right there." Von Mueller switched off his speaker.
Two minutes later he was on the bridge, with Franz von Hohenzollern close at his heels. "We'll stand off here under cover of dark," he said, "while you take the launch in to reconnoiter. If the harbor is clear, let us know by lamp signal. If there are any strangers in the anchorage, come back and report to me at once without letting them see you."
Von Hohenzollern saluted and left. A few moments later the Emden's naphtha launch, a type of small craft much in use by all navies at that time, was silently on her way.
As it turned out, such precautions were unnecessary. The palm-fringed bay was empty. Not even the expected collier was there. In response to von Hohenzollern's flash signal Emden and Markomannia slipped in and let go their anchors in twenty fathoms of limpid water as clear as the air around them.
They had scarcely found holding when a launch put out from shore, bringing with it practically the entire European population of the tiny German colony. The doctor was a Bavarian. Two government representatives hailed from Berlin. The manager of the phosphate company, which was the principal excuse for the existence of the outpost, and two of his assistants were Hanoverians. The three senior wireless operators were from the Rhineland, and there were half a dozen others from widely scattered cities. They came on board with broad smiles of welcome and obvious relief, bringing with them the news that only a few hours earlier the British had bombarded and destroyed the government wireless installations on Yap, and that they themselves had been living for some time in fear of a similar attack. For the moment, however, the British forces seemed to have withdrawn toward Shanghai to refuel and refit. Nothing had been heard from the Tannenberg, but only a few hours before their arrival a wireless message had been picked up from the Nordeutscher Lloyd liner Princess Alice, only a hundred miles or so distant, requesting instructions. According to the Alice's report, she had been in the South China Sea, midway between Singapore and Hong Kong, with some $ 850,000 in gold in her strong room, shipped by the government of India from Calcutta for Hong Kong, when she received news of the outbreak of war. She had gone immediately to the neutral safety of Manila, where she had managed to put the bullion ashore in care of the German Consul. She had not, however, been permitted to remain more than twenty-four hours in American territorial waters and had fled eastward, across the Philippine Sea, seeking refuge in the German holdings in the Carolines or the Marianas. Since she had already made contact with Angaur, thereby effectively upsetting the strict wireless silence that von Mueller had tried so carefully to enforce, there seemed little point in maintaining the ban. In any case, the island news seemed to indicate that it would be some time before the English could reorganize their forces for an attack upon either Angaur or the Emden. Accordingly, Emden immediately sent orders to the Alice to come in.
Aboard the Emden the liner's arrival was anticipated with no little eagerness. The German Consul at Manila was known to be exceptionally alert, and it was inconceivable that he would have allowed the Princess Alice to leave before loading her to the gunwales with every possible sort of supply, short of coal or actual munitions of war, that might be needed by a vessel in the Emden's situation. Not that the cruiser was actually short of necessities, but especially in the wardroom, which was always the first to feel a pinch, there were a number of items that were running low, from soap to cigarettes, and meat to macaroni, tea, toothpaste, and toilet paper—particularly the latter item, which always occupied more space in relation to its weight than could conveniently be spared.
To the bitter disappointment of all, however, when the Alice appeared, her Captain, her chief steward, and her purser seemed to have missed the Consul's idea entirely. As civilians they seemed to be far too overawed by their own responsibilities, and in accord with peacetime custom, insisted that the paperwork must be done first; with the result that everything that was transshipped had to be officially requisitioned in quadruplicate first, signed by the requisitioning officer, endorsed by Captain von Mueller, approved and signed by the Captain of the Alice, and then again approved and signed by the purser and supply officer and issuing steward of the liner. As a result little more than half the Emden's needs were met, though there was ample stock aboard the Alice. As a matter of fact, Franz von Hohenzollern fared better than either Captain von Mueller or von Muecke.
As the officer charged with maintaining the best possible level of wardroom supplies, he was invited to accompany von Mueller and von Muecke aboard the newcomer. He went in a mood of some skepticism, since he had made the voyage out to the East as a passenger in the Alice only a few years before, and consequently was well acquainted with her personnel. The briefest moment was enough for him to realize that any supplies that might be officially released to the cruiser would first have to be neatly bound in red tape. Accordingly, he excused himself from the Captain's conference and withdrew to the Alice^s comfortable and well-stocked bar, where, over the rim of several glasses of beer, he did manage to cajole his erstwhile friends into the release of several cases of cigarettes, beer, wine, and coffee. At the same time, by excusing himself frequently on account of the beer, he managed to find and rob most of the "heads" on the ship, and even locate the source of the liner's supply of toilet tissue and raid it, passing out roll after roll through a porthole, to the hilarious delight of the crew of the Emden's boat.