Price of Sanctuary

U. S. steamship brokers lately received a circular letter from one August Bolten, marine agent of Hamburg, Germany, calmly offering for charter or sale a dozen Nazi ships tied up in Western Hemisphere ports since war began. Herr Bolten said that these ships were available for "cash in U. S. dollars or other first-class neutral value." He found no quick takers in Manhattan, where idle U. S. tonnage was still seeking employment, and where everyone is well aware that the Allies will not recognize any shifts of nationality made by German ships after Sept. 3.

Not only foreign exchange did Herr Bolten's principals seek in their naive offering. They sought to get out from under the drain of port charges on their idle ships and upkeep of their idle crews. Allied shipping quarters last week estimated that Germany still had tied up throughout the world, 400 to 500 ships, with some 1,800,000 tons of needed car goes, which were running up charges at -L-330,000 per month for harbor dues alone. To this situation could be added unrest among unpaid, underfed crews, to explain why, in recent weeks, one Nazi ship after another has left sanctuary and tried running the Allied blockade to get home. Rule No. 1 of Germany's sea war being to diminish Allied tonnage, Rule No. 1 for homing German ships is to scuttle rather than be seized. Last week Paris reported half the German fleet moving into the North Sea, perhaps to cover the return of Nazi merchantmen. Allied naval forces tensed themselves.

The safe passage of the Bremen from Murmansk to Hamburg* (TIME, Dec. 25) apparently cued North German Lloyd's 32, 581-ton Columbus, third biggest of the Nazi merchant marine -- tied up at Veracruz since debarking her passengers at Havana in September -- to make a dash for it. When he received the order to sail home, Columbus' Captain Wilhelm Daehne had no choice but to obey, though he knew his chance of getting through was paper-thin. For weeks he trained two picked squads in the fine art of scuttling and firing ship.

Last week the Columbus passed out of the Gulf of Mexico at Florida's tip, with U. S. destroyers escorting her. Off Charleston, S. C. the U. S. heavy cruiser Tuscaloosa (President Roosevelt's last cruiseship) took up the patrol, to see that no untoward incident occurred in neutral waters. She rode so close to the Columbus that the latter had to carry a night light to avert collision, but no ill befell her until fugitive and escort reached a point 320 mi. northwest of Bermuda. Then the British destroyer Hyperion, which had heard Tuscaloosa's radio speaking to someone, asked: "What ship are you escorting?" Captain Harry A. Badt of the Tuscaloosa replied (in effect): "Find out for yourself."

An hour later, in midafternoon, into view raced Hyperion. Tuscaloosa dropped a mile astern to watch the fun. Hyperion shot over the German's bows, commanding her to halt. But already the Columbus crew were performing their well-rehearsed act. Into the lifeboats went all the crew (there were no passengers) except twelve scuttlers, ten firers. Captain Daehne stayed aboard to oversee their job. Down below, the scuttlers opened all sea cocks. Through the ship raced the firers, smashing skylights, emptying drums of benzine and petrol, to make an unbroken trail past heaps of oil-soaked waste to the ship's fuel tanks. When all was ready, Very signal pistols and long matches were used to touch off the fire everywhere at once. Within an hour of ordering his ship's destruction, Captain Daehne slid last down a rope into his motor launch, confident that no Briton could board what soon became a sinking inferno.

Tuscaloosa ran up and safely embarked 577 survivors.

"Isn't war awful, sir?" a bluejacket on the Tuscaloosa asked Captain Daehne as they watched the Columbus blaze.

"It's the worst there is!" said Captain Daehne.

Exclaimed John Schroeder, Manhattan manager of North German Lloyd, when he heard of the scuttling: "Oh, my God. It's one blow after another!" Because their ship was unarmed, the Columbus' crew, taken to Ellis Island, could look forward to early freedom, as "distressed" mariners. Less clear was the status of the Nazi freighter Arauca (see p. 8), which brought the war close home to Florida pleasure seekers last week by running inside the three-mile limit off Fort Lauderdale (20 miles north of Miami), just in time to escape capture by H.M.S. Orion (cruiser).

> One pride of the Nazi merchant marine which did not escape or scuttle was the 13,615-ton liner Cap Norte. Last week she arrived in English waters from the South Atlantic under a British prize crew. Another, the Duesseldorf, captured off Chile by the British cruiser Despatch, last week prepared to transit the Panama Canal under a prize crew.

> A Nazi epic came out of Berlin last week about the freighter Erlangen, which fled Australian waters towards Chile when war started. Short of fuel, she stopped at an uninhabited South Sea island for a month, while her crew hewed and loaded firewood, made sails out of hatch covers and tarpaulins. Alternately sailing (1,507 miles) and steaming (3,319 miles), she made Chile in five weeks (normal: two weeks), after burning most of her furniture and cabin floors.

* Lieut. Commander Edward Oscar ("Brubs") Bickford, 29, of the British submarine Salmon, who let the Bremen pass when he allegedly had her lined up for torpedoing, was last week awarded the D.S.O. and jumped 800 numbers to full Commander, for sinking a U-boat, puncturing a Nazi cruiser (perhaps two).

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.