Out of the black picture of the German depravity in fighting this war have emerged four or five dramatic episodes that have stirred the imagination of the world and appealed to the romantic and chivalric instincts even of Germany’s enemies. The cruise of the Emden will always remain one of the glorious traditions of the sea. The knightly spirit of those German aviators who flew low over the bier of their fallen foe of the French cavalry of the clouds, and strewed flowers upon it, was in the spirit of the best that war produces. America was the scene of two such episodes. The first unexpected appearance of the U-53 upon our shores, rising unheralded from the unsuspected waters, thrilled the sporting instinct of our people. But perhaps the most dramatic incident was the arrival of the Prinz Eitel Friedrich.
During the night of March 9–10, 1915, this gallant cruiser of the Kaiserliche Marine, slipped into the harbour at Norfolk, having run the British blockade of cruisers outside the three-mile limit, ending a career of six months as a commerce raider, recalling the feats of the Alabama in the Civil War. The Eitel Friedrich was soon interned for the period of the war and her officers and crew put under formal arrest. Even the British, whose fleet had been outwitted, gave their tribute of praise to the men who had taken their fair chance and had got away. Captain Max Thierichens and his crew became objects of admiration to the world. They were showered with felicitations, most of all, as was natural enough, from Germans and German-Americans.
That is the bright side of the picture—and no one, even now, would care to dim its lustre.
But even at his best the German of the ruling class seems tainted with the ineradicable nature of the beast. The world has long accepted the Latin affinity of Mars and Venus—perhaps too complacently, though not without reason—so it would not have been surprised if the gallant Thierichens had not measured up to the standards of a Galahad. Nevertheless, it had a right to expect that he would not descend to the level of a Caliban; and Thierichens fell below even that low standard.
Among the great quantities of letters of congratulation which Captain Thierichens received were many from German-American women. They were stirred by the brilliancy of his exploit: it was a ray of light in the gloom that had fallen on the Teuton peoples after the Battle of the Marne, when the rosy vision of quick victory had turned to the gray fog of a long, defensive war. These letters breathed the passionate loyalty of the German spirit to the Fatherland. To these women, Thierichens was the embodiment of the martial spirit of their race—the spirit of the sons they saw themselves in imagination sending forth to war. Some phrases from their letters strike the key:
It is a pleasure for us to help our German brothers, but I also understand that you, my dear brother, are waiting to come out from your predicament. How grand it is that you are receiving letters from the Fatherland. We don’t hear anything. Can’t write anything, as the letters are not being delivered. So far good news. It is wonderful. My heart is jumping with joy. I look with confidence in the future. I have to please so many; have so many times to defend my Germany, but I have an unlimited confidence in God and in the truth.
Again: Hold your head high and do not forget: “starlight itself is in the night and God does not forsake his own.”
Their attitude was one of high patriotism and maternal solicitude. They sent him books and delicacies, scraps of news from Germany, and in every way sought to comfort and inspirit their hero.
Thierichens was indifferent to the lofty purpose of these letters. His mind was depraved by the social custom of military Germany by which men of the officer class are in youth taught to consider themselves above the moral law. He was quite aware of the kinship of all emotions, and he promptly undertook to change the direction of these currents of passion into a channel more pleasing to his tastes. It was not long until he had narrowed his correspondence chiefly to three women and of these more particularly to two. Of these latter one was a German servant girl of rather better than average understanding, and the other a kindergarten teacher in the Middle West, one twenty-five and the other forty-five years of age. Their correspondence in both cases started on an exalted plane. It ended in depravity unprintable. Only a reading of the complete series of Thierichens’s letters to these women could give a full understanding of the heartlessness, the baseness, and the ingenuity with which this man, always playing upon their patriotic fervour, transmuted their finer feelings into the most degrading travesty of romantic love. He and the kindergarten teacher never met. But by the time their correspondence came under Government censorship it had become a blend of exalted patriotism and of passion perverted to the obscenities pictured on the walls of ruined Pompeii.
Terrible as was the plight to which the teacher had descended, the case in which the German servant found herself was infinitely worse. Thierichens and she had met after their first interchange of letters and they had entered on a liaison of a character that became so base it cannot even be suggested.
All this while Thierichens was in correspondence with at least eight other misguided women. Fortunately for them the strong hand of the law intervened and Thierichens to-day is safely behind prison bars for his crimes. In the midst of this promiscuous correspondence he was receiving letters of affection and devotion from his wife and children, two of which may well be reproduced to make clearer the depth to which he fell. One is from his little daughter Christel, the other from his wife. They are as follows:
Kiel, November 26, 1916.
My Dear Father:
My darling, to-day the day of my 6th birthday, I will thank you all alone for the pretty things, lovely kisses for same. I hope my next birthday you will be with us again. I am praying every evening and morning to the dear God that he will protect my dear father, and that the war will soon be ended, and you come again to the dear Fatherland.
Many hundred thousand kisses sent you,
Your thankful daughter,
Christel.
Kiel, Germany, 23rd March, 1917.
My Only Muckicken:
I want to chat with you again a little to-day; had very little time yesterday; did some shopping morning, and some stocking mending in the afternoon; some linen work in the evening; went early to bed; had love pains; had a little cold. This morning I went with Christel to Karestadt, bought some stockings, a school hat and gloves for her; also a leather hat for Elly; very neat. I am dressing Elly still like a child; she also is still wearing her hair down her back; she is any way a child yet. To-morrow I will get some bones from the war kitchen for Fritz, and then I shall ride together with the children to Aunt Niemann. To-day is a sunny day, but still a little cold. And now I shall answer No. 50. From Christmas Eve, 24–12–16. No, darling, we want to hope that we shall enjoy the 6th Christmas evening together; a description of our Christmas evening you probably received. You darling, you’re writing so as if we were hungry, no, my darling, we have not had any hunger here in Germany yet. We are having our butter, eggs, meat, bread, and potatoes every day; only not so much of it as in times of peace. Well, of course, then everything was extravagantly used. So now everybody has to learn to be economical which is a good lesson for days to come, so please don’t listen to the talk of our enemies,—we are all right; nobody will conquer us; God, the Lord, won’t leave us alone,—we are all brave. What did Russia gain by the revolution? Something of that kind is impossible in Germany. The responsibility for same rests with England again. We shall wait to see how everything turns out. England will be punished surely. Now, my darling, enough for to-day. Please remain healthy, and retain your humor. Be thankful and bravely greeted from your three sprouts and Thiere.
And scenes on the Eitel Friedrich, which escaped from Tsing-tau and interned at Norfolk
To make complete the picture of this hero of the Prussian officer class, it may be well to quote also the round robin of the crew of the Prinz Eitel Friedrich. To them even the air of an American internment camp was the breath of freedom compared to their service on a ship of his Imperial Majesty’s Marine. Here is their opinion of life in it and of their gallant captain:
Fort Oglethorpe, Ga.,
July 8.
United States District Attorney,
Philadelphia, Pa.
Dear Sir:
We of the crew of the Prince Eitel Friedrich, beg to inform you about the conditions as there had been existing on board said vessel, and of the character of Captain Max Thierichens. He is one of the most cruel and dishonest men who ever had been in charge of a vessel. He is a disgrace to any military organization, and we feel ashamed that he brought disgrace to our vessel. He is one of the worst egoists in existence, without any feeling for his fellowmen. He is guilty of using the United States mails for fraudulent purposes, advertising in the papers that he would receive liebesgaben (love packages) for the soldiers in order to benefit himself, and later selling the same in the cantine after an inspection and rifling; he kept everything of value. He has received 1,000 of packages and money from very near every German society and countless private people, but his men never saw a penny of the same. The money he has spent for himself and some of his officers in his orgies.
As we had been out on the high seas, he only had an eye for his personal welfare. If we met a vessel, after stopping the same, the first thing he always did was to secure as much wine and other good things for himself, and officers, so that they always had plenty. He would not allow his sailors to bring enough potatoes and common food on board to satisfy their hunger. There had been cases where men had been severe punished just for taking a piece of meat from the table of one of the sunken vessels. The men did not even have drinking water but he and his officers used the same for bathing. He had been afraid that the U. S. Government would find out about his various misdeeds, so in order to make the Government think that he was all he should have represented he pulled off the biggest bluff ever thought of. He told ten men that they could run off, supplied the same with money, and after a few moments sent some other boys over the side to make as much noise as possible to call the attention of the guards. He had his men maltreated wherever there was a chance to do so. He even did this after we had been brought to Fort Oglethorpe. We have to thank the U. S. Officers for putting a stop to it. The captain had been mad that he lost the power over the men. He swore he would bring the men to a military prison for years to come, simply because they refused to be treated like dogs after being informed by the U. S. Officers that they don’t have to stand for anything like that. If it was not for the iron discipline maintained by the Germans, there would have been a mutiny on board the ship. Even a common man hates to see good supplies going to waste just because the captain could not get quick enough to his wine, and the men feed on hardtack that was full of worms. Some of the men are willing to appear in court against the captain to bear out because they are not protected by the U. S. Government, and may have to face a court martial law if they are returned to Germany. We do hope that there will be an investigation of the evil doings of said Captain. If found guilty, we do hope that he may find out what it does mean to do wrong to his fellowmen.