I was asleep, as it was my morning watch, when I was awakened by the
harsh rattle of the diving alarms.

The Diesel subsided with a few spasmodic coughs into silence, and as I
jumped out of my bunk and groped for my short sea boots, the navigator
and helmsman came tumbling down the conning tower, with the navigator
shouting, "Take her down," as hard as you like.

The men at the planes had them "hard-to-dive" in an instant.

The vents had been opened as the hooters sounded, and Alten, who had
jumped into the control room, immediately rang down, "All out on the
electric motors."

In thirty seconds from the original alarm we were at an angle of twenty
degrees down by the bow, and I had sat down heavily on the battery
boards, completely surprised by the sudden tilt of the deck.

It occurred to me that the air was escaping through the vents with a
strangely loud noise, but before I could consider the matter further or
even inquire the reason for this sudden dive, the noise increased to a
terrifying extent, and whilst I prepared myself for the worst it
culminated into a roar as of fifty express trains going through a
tunnel, mingled with the noise of a high-powered aeroplane engine.

The roar drummed and beat and shook the boat, then died away as
suddenly as it came; a moment later there was a severe jar. We had
struck the bottom, still maintaining our angle.

I painfully got to my feet and then discovered from the navigator that