200 Crossing the Line 



1944, continued 



many snapshots and cartoons, an account of our action against tlie Japanese fleet and other mem- 

 orabilia of the spirited crew." 



The quotation here is given with permission. 



1945 



As we approached the equator we got into the doldrums. No breath of wind 

 ruffled the sea, and the sun blazed down fiercely. Weird headgear was de- 

 vised to prevent burns; my own version of a sun helmet measm-ed a yard 

 across. We organized a ritual for crossing the Line, as sailors of all nations do. 

 Leading characters of Neptune's Court donned fancy dress, made of avail- 

 able rags and tags — Neptune himself, his daughter Thetis, the Chief of 

 Pohce, the Physician in Ordinary, and of course the Bai'ber. I played Neptime. 

 The Chief of Police beat the wi-etched initiates with his broadsword, giving 

 hearty whacks. 



Just as this celebration reached its height we heard airplane engines. We 

 could see nothing, but the hum was incessant. We leaped to the antiaircraft 

 guns. Thetis took her station by the 3.7-cm. gun, while the Barber and the 

 Physician in Ordinary snatched up machine guns. The whole Coin-t of Nep- 

 time took diving stations. Remembering back, I must smile; here was the last 

 uncaptured U-boat crew, all rigged out in fancy dress and poised to fight 

 for their fives. But at the time, it was quite serious, and I am happy to say 

 there was no fight. The drone of engines faded away — a harmless airliner, 

 probably — and we finished ducking Neptune's greenhorns. 



(Heinz Schaeffer. We escaped in an outlaw U-boat. Saturday Evening 

 Post, November 22, 1952. p. 60-62.) 



Many youngsters — no matter whether it is a matter of elapsed time or of spirit — have 

 voyaged twenty thousand leagues under the sea with Captain Nemo in his Nautilus, have 

 thanked Jules Verne for the foreglimpse he thus gave them of what was later to be not unusual, 

 have wondered if even they might submerge and tell their children about it. We had to wait for 

 a world war and the dying spasms of a nation to give us the tale of the "crossing" in a submarine. 

 This is the story of Heinz Schaeffer and his crew of the German U-977 that left Kiel in April, 

 1945. Scarcely were they under way when they heard of the surrender of the German forces. 

 They had to decide whether it was just one more clever ruse of the enemy or a real warning from 

 home. A weighty problem. Schaeffer finally decided to head for the Argentine, hoping to dodge 

 enemy cruisers on the way. It meant running submerged for 66 days. The effect on food, clothing, 

 comfort, spirits of all on board may be imagined, but quite probably the reahty was much worse 

 than any outsider can dream of. Surrender to the Argentine pohce came on August 17, ending a 

 voyage of four months. 



But Perry, who never sailed along on one fine of argument very long, was 

 off on another tack completely. 



"And what provision — " that three-syllable word interwoven into ordinary 

 deck conversation got everybody's attention, and Perry, sensing the effect 

 of it, repeated — "An' what provision is being made for d'crossing d'equator 



ceremonies 



— '?" 



I was amazed at the response to that. Some guys haw-hawed, others 

 slapped their neighbors on the back — evidently that was funny and serious 



