sunrise.  “But, of course,” he said, “there will first be an armistice to discuss terms.”  We asked him what he meant by an armistice.  He replied that the troops on the front would cease fighting.  “And your submarines?” we asked.  “Oh! they will go on with their work,” he replied.  “Why should they stop?” Why, indeed?  It was to be a German armistice, graciously permitted by our enemies, in which they were to continue the use of a deadly weapon, but we were to lay down our arms!  Generally speaking, however, we refused to be drawn into discussion of the war, its causes and issues.  The enemy was “top dog” for the time being, we were in his power:  we did not know what was in store for us; we did not wish to prejudice any chances we might have, and it would not pay to lose our tempers or be indiscreet.

Christmas Eve was still too rough for the ships to tie up alongside, and our Christmas the next day was the reverse of merry.  The Germans had held a Christmas service on the Wolf on Christmas Eve, and sounds of the band and singing were wafted to us over the waters.  We could have no music on the Igotz Mendi, as we had no piano, but our friends on the Wolf, so we heard afterwards, gathered together in the ’tween decks and joined in some Christmas music.

I went out on deck early on Christmas morning, and there met the Spanish Chief Mate chewing a bun.  He asked me to share half with him—­a great sacrifice!  Such was the commencement of our Christmas festivities.  Later in the morning the Spanish Captain regaled the ladies with some choice brand of Spanish wine, and offered first-class cigars to the men prisoners (rather better than the “Stinkadoros” sometimes offered us by the crew), German officers on the ships exchanged visits, and we all tried to feel the day was not quite ordinary.

Our thoughts and wishes on this sad Christmas Day turned to our friends and relations at home who would be mourning us as dead, and may perhaps be “better imagined than described,” and with the bad news from the various seats of war we all felt fairly blue.

The German officers had a great feast and a jolly time on the Wolf.  One cow and three pigs had been killed for the Christmas feast, but they did not go far between eight hundred people.  The day before we had been served with some of the “in’ards,” or, as the American said, the “machinery” of the poor beasts cut up into small pieces, even the lungs being used.  Some of us turned up our noses at this, but the Captain assured us that if we ever did get to America or England we should find that the U boats had reduced our countries to such straits that even such “machinery” would be welcome food!

With Christmas Day came to an end for us a quarter of a year’s captivity, and all the prisoners, at least, were glad when the dismal farce of Christmas under such conditions was over.

“This is the life,” said the German sailor who supplied us with water twice daily.  He was a very hardworked member of the prize crew, doing all sorts of odd jobs and always willing to help, and was said to be the black sheep of a high German family, which numbered among its members officers holding high commands in the German army and navy.  If he thought it “was the life,” we didn’t!