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August 13, 1914. Aboard the former HMCHS Prince George, off Cape Mendocino.
Fregattenkapitän Haun stood on the fantail of his captured vessel as the rising sun cast the surrounding waters in a resplendent yellow hue, a cup of freshly prepared tea in his hands. He watched intently as a stream of boats ferried various items between the prize and Leipzig off her starboard side. The sleep he had received the previous night was fleeting at best, the initial feelings of accomplishment at the recent seizure had slowly turned into a niggling doubt in the back of his mind. The ship had been in direct violations of its protections however, the potential optics of the situation had some regrettable consequences. Perhaps they were moving at best possible speed to assist their compatriots or equally so, the guise of a hospital ship could have been donned for more nefarious purposes. Haun had enough legal footing to protect himself and even so, the politicians could judge him personally after the fact, he had a job to do. As he sipped the splendid tea, he chuckled to himself. Perhaps these Canadians were not much different than the British after all. Looking through his binoculars one handed, he spied the ongoing commotion on the decks of Leipzig. 4 of her 3.7cm Pom Pom’s were being dismounted and prepared for their eventual relocation to the Prince George, 1 on the bow and stern respectively while the other 2 would be placed high up beside the funnels. A more fearsome armament would have put his mind at ease but, they had to make do with what was available. Leipzig had no intermediate guns aboard and transferring something as large as a 10.5cm gun at sea would be incredibly difficult, there was no suitable enclaves nearby on this very hostile coastline.
Haun finished the rest of his cup with a gulp and began to walk back towards the bow of the ship. As he went, he gingerly stepped along the catwalks, the smell of fresh paint abundant in the air. The crew had already begun the arduous process of repainting the ship but luckily for him, the undoing of the Canadians had been his fortune. He would not be caught sailing a half-painted hospital ship as a raider and as fate would have it, the ships former owners kept a substantial store of paint aboard. An unkept liner was an unsuccessful liner. The cross and circle on the middle funnel had already been covered while the crew was attempting to paint as much as they could in regard to the hull while at sea. All they would have to do is match the opposite side close enough in her original livery to avoid suspicion. He spied Mr. Baumann, their civilian pilot, excitedly pacing back and forth on one of the bridge wings. Ever since setting foot aboard this ship, the pilot had enthusiastically talked the ear off anybody within range about the vessel. Apparently, Prince George was a relatively well-known vessel on this coast, spritely at just below 20 knots and only 4 years old. Weighing in at 3,380 GRT, the 307ft long vessel was capable of carrying over 250 passengers normally, with as many as 1,500 passengers for short excursion cruises. Interestingly enough, she was also able to carry 350 tons of cargo in her holds, something that would come in handy as an auxiliary. As the civilian had showcased the previous night, she ran completely on oil instead of the traditional coal Leipzig utilized. Baumann spun a tale about how his former employers had very frequently met this very ship on their cargo runs, only to be beaten to the local docks every time and forced to wait for their turn. From what he had seen and been told, this ship should work exceedingly well as an escort to Leipzig.
Making his way upwards towards the bridge, Lieutenant Hartkopf stood alongside another sailor at the helm, Baumann making idle conversation with the outwardly annoyed officer.
“Lieutenant, Mr. Baumann, may I speak to you please?”
Both of the men accompanied Haun down the bowels of the ship and into the former Captain’s cabin. It was roughly the same size as the contemporary aboard Leipzig, albeit not destroyed by shellfire. Behind the main desk was a framed photograph hanging on the wall, showcasing the former Captain and what looked to be a young boy on his lap.
“Have you prepared the crew composition required to operate this vessel Lieutenant?”
Hartkopf nodded and produced a folded piece of paper from his pocket, “20 men are required to operate the 3.7cm Pom Poms and Spandau guns, 3 men have being transferred to operate the wireless set, 24 men are needed for proper day to day operations and surprisingly, only 15 men are required to operate the machinery. I am currently waiting on a report regarding how many prize crew we can take aboard while not leaving Leipzig vulnerable. The injured are all being transferred as well, some of the lightly injured men may be able to be substituted into some duties around the ship as well.”
“The marvels of modern technology.” Haun chuckled, “I suppose it truly is fortunate we have seized such a capable vessel. Speaking of this vessel though.”
Haun turned to Hartkopf, “Lieutenant, I would like to offer you command of this vessel. You have shown the exceptional qualities all men of the Kaiser’s Navy stride towards, this will be a worthy reward for such competencies.”
In his usual manner, his Executive Officer did not show a crack of emotion across his steely façade. Haun had been in his company long enough to judge the man’s emotions through other means, primarily the small bit of excited tapping coming from his left foot.
“It would be an honor sir.” The lieutenant said sincerely. Humility was an important aspect of a naval officer and always the perfectionist, Hartkopf shined through once again.
“Now.” Haun said as he held a hand to his chin, “I believe this new command warrants a proper name. No proper German officer deserves his first command to be named after a perfidious English Monarch. Do you have any preference Lieutenant?”
Both officers exchanged suggestions for a few minutes before being interrupted by Mr. Baumann.
“What about Sea Lion? Correct me if I am wrong but your mission in these waters is to lurk off the coast and snatch merchant vessels? That sounds similar to the Sea Lion’s that also inhabit this coast, jumping from their rocks to feast upon unsuspecting prey in the ocean.”
Hartkopf nodded his approval, “SMS Seelöwe? Yes Mr. Baumann, that seems very apt.”
“It is settled then.” Haun said with an accompanying clap, “Now Mr. Baumann, please join Lieutenant Hartkopf and me for some tea.” The Captain placed his various notebooks and intelligence documents on the desk in front of him, “We have much to discuss regarding our actions on this coast.”
Fregattenkapitän Haun stood on the fantail of his captured vessel as the rising sun cast the surrounding waters in a resplendent yellow hue, a cup of freshly prepared tea in his hands. He watched intently as a stream of boats ferried various items between the prize and Leipzig off her starboard side. The sleep he had received the previous night was fleeting at best, the initial feelings of accomplishment at the recent seizure had slowly turned into a niggling doubt in the back of his mind. The ship had been in direct violations of its protections however, the potential optics of the situation had some regrettable consequences. Perhaps they were moving at best possible speed to assist their compatriots or equally so, the guise of a hospital ship could have been donned for more nefarious purposes. Haun had enough legal footing to protect himself and even so, the politicians could judge him personally after the fact, he had a job to do. As he sipped the splendid tea, he chuckled to himself. Perhaps these Canadians were not much different than the British after all. Looking through his binoculars one handed, he spied the ongoing commotion on the decks of Leipzig. 4 of her 3.7cm Pom Pom’s were being dismounted and prepared for their eventual relocation to the Prince George, 1 on the bow and stern respectively while the other 2 would be placed high up beside the funnels. A more fearsome armament would have put his mind at ease but, they had to make do with what was available. Leipzig had no intermediate guns aboard and transferring something as large as a 10.5cm gun at sea would be incredibly difficult, there was no suitable enclaves nearby on this very hostile coastline.
Haun finished the rest of his cup with a gulp and began to walk back towards the bow of the ship. As he went, he gingerly stepped along the catwalks, the smell of fresh paint abundant in the air. The crew had already begun the arduous process of repainting the ship but luckily for him, the undoing of the Canadians had been his fortune. He would not be caught sailing a half-painted hospital ship as a raider and as fate would have it, the ships former owners kept a substantial store of paint aboard. An unkept liner was an unsuccessful liner. The cross and circle on the middle funnel had already been covered while the crew was attempting to paint as much as they could in regard to the hull while at sea. All they would have to do is match the opposite side close enough in her original livery to avoid suspicion. He spied Mr. Baumann, their civilian pilot, excitedly pacing back and forth on one of the bridge wings. Ever since setting foot aboard this ship, the pilot had enthusiastically talked the ear off anybody within range about the vessel. Apparently, Prince George was a relatively well-known vessel on this coast, spritely at just below 20 knots and only 4 years old. Weighing in at 3,380 GRT, the 307ft long vessel was capable of carrying over 250 passengers normally, with as many as 1,500 passengers for short excursion cruises. Interestingly enough, she was also able to carry 350 tons of cargo in her holds, something that would come in handy as an auxiliary. As the civilian had showcased the previous night, she ran completely on oil instead of the traditional coal Leipzig utilized. Baumann spun a tale about how his former employers had very frequently met this very ship on their cargo runs, only to be beaten to the local docks every time and forced to wait for their turn. From what he had seen and been told, this ship should work exceedingly well as an escort to Leipzig.
Making his way upwards towards the bridge, Lieutenant Hartkopf stood alongside another sailor at the helm, Baumann making idle conversation with the outwardly annoyed officer.
“Lieutenant, Mr. Baumann, may I speak to you please?”
Both of the men accompanied Haun down the bowels of the ship and into the former Captain’s cabin. It was roughly the same size as the contemporary aboard Leipzig, albeit not destroyed by shellfire. Behind the main desk was a framed photograph hanging on the wall, showcasing the former Captain and what looked to be a young boy on his lap.
“Have you prepared the crew composition required to operate this vessel Lieutenant?”
Hartkopf nodded and produced a folded piece of paper from his pocket, “20 men are required to operate the 3.7cm Pom Poms and Spandau guns, 3 men have being transferred to operate the wireless set, 24 men are needed for proper day to day operations and surprisingly, only 15 men are required to operate the machinery. I am currently waiting on a report regarding how many prize crew we can take aboard while not leaving Leipzig vulnerable. The injured are all being transferred as well, some of the lightly injured men may be able to be substituted into some duties around the ship as well.”
“The marvels of modern technology.” Haun chuckled, “I suppose it truly is fortunate we have seized such a capable vessel. Speaking of this vessel though.”
Haun turned to Hartkopf, “Lieutenant, I would like to offer you command of this vessel. You have shown the exceptional qualities all men of the Kaiser’s Navy stride towards, this will be a worthy reward for such competencies.”
In his usual manner, his Executive Officer did not show a crack of emotion across his steely façade. Haun had been in his company long enough to judge the man’s emotions through other means, primarily the small bit of excited tapping coming from his left foot.
“It would be an honor sir.” The lieutenant said sincerely. Humility was an important aspect of a naval officer and always the perfectionist, Hartkopf shined through once again.
“Now.” Haun said as he held a hand to his chin, “I believe this new command warrants a proper name. No proper German officer deserves his first command to be named after a perfidious English Monarch. Do you have any preference Lieutenant?”
Both officers exchanged suggestions for a few minutes before being interrupted by Mr. Baumann.
“What about Sea Lion? Correct me if I am wrong but your mission in these waters is to lurk off the coast and snatch merchant vessels? That sounds similar to the Sea Lion’s that also inhabit this coast, jumping from their rocks to feast upon unsuspecting prey in the ocean.”
Hartkopf nodded his approval, “SMS Seelöwe? Yes Mr. Baumann, that seems very apt.”
“It is settled then.” Haun said with an accompanying clap, “Now Mr. Baumann, please join Lieutenant Hartkopf and me for some tea.” The Captain placed his various notebooks and intelligence documents on the desk in front of him, “We have much to discuss regarding our actions on this coast.”
- RelativeGalaxy7
- Word Count: 1.2k