Von Mücke’s Rise and Fall
What reads like an adventure novel, but was a real-life daring escape from the Cocos Islands in 1914, ended successfully in the Fatherland with the name of its main protaganist, Hellmuth von Mücke, celebrated all over the German Empire. Subsequent events
Smoke plumes on the horizon was an alarming sight for a German raiding party ashore on Direction Island, one of the Cocos group in the eastern Indian Ocean. Their ship, the Emden, had been spotted! Now, there was no escape but to stand and fight. Through his binoculars, Hellmuth von Mücke, the officer in charge of the raiding party, saw his small cruiser raise its war ensign and prepare for battle. But what would now become of the 50 men of Emden’s landing party? There was no way of getting back to the ship, and Fregattenkapitän von Müller had to act quickly. Going into captivity was out of the question. There was little time left before the Australians realised that a German party, which had already destroyed a wireless station, was still on the island. But how could they get get away? Von Mücke had a plan!
Von Mücke, a Saxon, was born on 25 June 1881 in Zwickau, to Premierleutnant Curt Alexander von Mücke and Louisa Charlotte Frieda, nee Alberti, with Curt serving locally in the 9. Königlich Sächsischen (Royal Saxon) Infanterie Regiment Nr. 133. In 1886, when Hellmuth was just six, his father passed away, probably due to a wound received during the Franco
Prussian War of 1870/71. His mother then married her brother-in-law, the family moving to Dresden where Hellmuth von Mücke attended school. After passing his Abitur, he left home to pursue a career in the Imperial Navy, joining as a Seekadett in April 1900. Twelve years later, after numerous postings, he was promoted to Kapitänleutnant and given command of Torpedo Boat S 149. After a brief posting to the staff of the Third Admiral of reconnaissance forces, he transferred to the Small Cruiser SMS Emden as navigational officer and later (from June 1914) as first officer. One month later, Emden went to war as part of the German East-asia Squadron, with its base in Tsingtao, in the German leased territory of Kiautschou.
At the outbreak of war, the
Auslandskreuzer (cruisers operating in foreign waters) of the Imperial Navy operated independently with the aim of raiding enemy naval commerce. Britain had declared war on Germany on 5 August 1914, an act which resulted in a drastic deterioration of the strategic situation for German naval and land forces far away from the Fatherland. At sea, the few German Auslandskreuzer faced the numerically far superior Royal Navy and tried to resist for as long as possible while causing losses on its shipping whenever opportunities arose. Even though the situation was difficult, Emden operated with considerable success. Within two months, it had captured or sunk 23 ships at a total of over 100,000 GRT. In Germany, the Emden and her men quickly became legendary. It’s triumph, however, would soon come to an abrupt end.
RELENTLESSLY LEAKING AYESHA
On 9 November 1914, Emden was at anchor at Direction Island (Cocos-keeling Islands) aiming to destroy the local British wireless and cable transmitter station. To do so, Kapitänleutnant von Mücke had gone ashore with a landing platoon (three officers, six NCOS and 41 men) which quickly finished the task, but then had to watch helplessly as the Emden was engaged by the Australian Cruiser HMAS Sydney. In the ensuing battle, the weaker Emden was destroyed. The remainder of the Emden’s crew who had survived were taken POW, among them her commander, Fregattenkapitän Karl von Müller. At first, the fate of the Emden remained unknown to von Mücke and his men still on the island, as they had only witnessed the start of the naval engagement and not its result. However, von Mücke’s plan involved the requisition of a small three-mast schooner in the harbour and commandeered her for service in the German Imperial Navy as SMS Ayesha.
To avoid being taken POW themselves, the men fled on the relentlessly leaking SMS Ayesha, and with insufficient maps and only little food and water, they reached Padang, Sumatra, in the Dutch East-indies after a journey of 1,709 miles on 27 November. Initially, Mücke planned to replenish water and supplies, but when he learned that Tsingtao had
been lost to the Japanese, and the Emden destroyed, he decided on a change of plan: he had to get his men back to Germany!
With the help of the German consulate in Padang, von Mücke established contact with the German steamer Choising, which rendezvoused with Ayesha at sea. Before transferring to the Choising, so Ayesha was scuttled and sunk. On board the Choising, von Mücke and his men reached Hodeidah, in what is today Yemen but was then part of the Turkish-ottoman Empire. On 8 January 1915, von Mücke led his men ashore. After consultation with the local military, he decided to continue the journey on land and march to El Ula (today Saudi Arabia). From there, he planned to take the Hejaz railway to Constantinople, the route of the march running along the eastern coast of the Red Sea.
JOURNEY TOO PERILOUS
On 28 January, von Mücke and his men started what would enter history as one of the great adventures of the First World War. With a plethora of mules and camels, the colourful German column set out in the company of a troop of Turkish Gendarmes. Von Mücke later wrote:
‘Soon, Hodeidah was left behind us in the distance, and we were in the heart of the desert. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but sand,—low, flat sand hills grown over with dry grass. Of roads, of course, there were none; tracks in the sand, made by the passing of other caravans. That was all. Our march was frequently interrupted by halts, for at the beginning especially, and every little while, one of the men devoted too much energy in guiding and mastering his steed. The ensuing duel usually resulted in humiliation of the rider. The next thing to be done, then, was to catch the riderless beast that was making the most of its freedom; a duty usually devolved to the officers because they were the only ones who could ride.’
On reaching Saana, von Mücke realised, much to his dismay, that he was not getting any further because the journey would be too perilous. Salvation could only lie in getting back to sea, and after travelling back to Hodeidah, and finding
Choising gone, von Mücke decided that this could be accomplished with sambuks (small open sailing vessels, about 14m x 4m) even in the presence of British and French naval forces. Two sambuks were thus requisitioned for the Imperial German Navy, as von Mücke described:
‘On 14 March, at five o’clock in the afternoon, my fleet sailed from Yabana. The Imperial war flag flew proudly at the masthead of my flagship. With three cheers for His Majesty, the Emperor, we began our journey. The flagship of the second admiral was in command of Lieutenant Gerdts. We made up for the total lack of further ships in the fleet by our absolutely correct discipline.’
On 17 March, however, the ship of the ‘Second Admiral’ sank, the journey continuing on one sambuk, now crowded with 50 men, ammunition and weapons - including four machine guns. Evading detection by Allied naval vessels, von Mücke and his men arrived in Coonfidah and chartered a second sambuk, continuing the journey to Leet. At this point, with strong British naval forces controlling the Red Sea, the men continued overland. To do so, von Mücke organised 90 camels and marched for up to 18 hours a day.
ATTACK REPELLED
The camel train made good progress, although by that point the British had put a bounty on the heads of the survivors of Emden, with awful consequences for the German mariners. On the evening of 31 March, they were engaged by Bedouin warriors south-west of Mecca, the warriors keen to rake in the bounty for the annihilation of von Mücke and his men. The Germans, though, deployed their four machine guns:
‘The most important thing now was to get our most effective weapons, the machine guns, into play. Of these, two were strapped on camels at the head of the caravan, and two at the rear. In a few minutes we had the machine guns in action, and hardly had their volleys rattled over the enemy’s lines, when silence reigned there. This turn in affairs had evidently not been expected. We took advantage of this lull in the enemy’s fire to pull down the camels that were still standing, so that they would not form so easy a target, to distribute ammunition, and to get together.’
When dawn broke, von Mücke and his men realised they were surrounded by at least 300 Bedouin. The first attack had been repelled, and so far there were only a few lightly wounded men. However, a second and much fiercer attack followed and Matrose Joseph Rademacher and Leutnant zur See Roderich Schmidt were killed. It was then that one of the Turkish Gendarmes offered himself as a negotiator. The Bedouin demanded £11,000 (GBP) and the surrender of all weapons and supplies. When von Mücke replied there was no money and that ‘... it was not custom among Germans to surrender one’s arms’, so the fight flared up again. The third day of fighting cost the life of Heizer (stoker) Friedrich Lanig, while Obermatrose Heinrich Koschinsky was severely wounded. On the fourth day of fighting, two Bedouin appeared which, judging from the quality of their attire, appeared to be men of high-status:
‘Their dress and richly caparisoned saddles proclaimed them from afar to be no ordinary Bedouin. Waving a white cloth, they came riding toward our camp. They had been sent by the Emir of Mecca, who had been informed of the attack on us, and was sending troops to our relief. And truly, in about another half hour, we could see in the distance about 70 men riding toward us on camels carrying a dark red banner emblazoned with verses from the Koran in gold lettering. They were making a sort of music by the beating of drums, and were singing to it. Coming toward me, Abdullah saluted. He brought me his father’s greetings, expressing regret for what had occurred. He told me he had brought us water, and assured me that we could now march on to Djidda in peace, as our assailants had withdrawn.’
After four days of fighting, and now assisted by the Emir’s men, the Germans reached Djidda from where the journey continued by boat to El Wegh. The last leg consisted of a march through the desert, until finally, on 5 May 1915, the German landing squad arrived in El Ula. From here, the men travelled by train via Damascus and Aleppo to Constantinople, where they arrived on 23 May 1915.
Von Mücke later wrote: ‘My men quickly fell in line. Our flag, which we had followed for ten months, was flying at our right wing. A few brief commands, the execution of which proved that the brigand existence we had led for months had not destroyed our military trim, and my sword was lowered before my superior officer: “I report the landing squad from the Emden, five officers, seven petty officers, and thirty men strong.” ’
It had been the energetic and able leadership of Hellmuth von Mücke which made the landing platoon of SMS Emden the only part of the German Eastasia Squadron to make its way back to Germany during the war.
KAISER’S SHIRKED RESPONSIBILITY
After his return, von Mücke married and fathered three daughters and three sons. For his deeds, he was showered with awards: both classes of the Iron Cross, the Saxon Military Order of St. Henry 4th Class and the Bavarian Military Merit Order 4th Class. The men of the Emden, meanwhile, became popular naval heroes. His fame, however, did not bring von Mücke a posting to a capital ship, and until 1918 he served in a variety of posts. In 1916, he was given command of a gunboat flotilla on the Euphrates, a position in which von Mücke witnessed the Armenian Genocide without realising its true scale. His unit refused to work because of the corpses floating in the river, and von Mücke filed a complaint with the Turkish governor with the result that, temporarily, no more corpses were thrown into the water. In 1917, he took command of a half-flotilla on the Danube, and in May 1918 was given command of the 1. Abteilung of II. Torpedoboot-division, Wilhelmshaven.
One reason for the rather unattractive postings might have been von Mücke’s relationship with his superiors. In 1910, an assessment of von Mücke reads:
‘Excelled in his role as flag lieutenant. Punishments: Severe reprimand because Lt. von Mücke failed to show the required respect to an older officer.’
And Vizeadmiral Souchon wrote in February 1916:
‘If von Mücke will be able to cope with the Turks remains to be seen, his equally aged comrades seem to find that unlikely. Mücke is known to be stubborn and crossgrained, that I made clear to him when he arrived back here in Khaki. He didn’t bother to bring anything else.’
In further correspondence, it becomes clear that the posting to the Euphrates was solely based on von Mücke’s attitude and to ensure he couldn’t interfere in the Admiral’s business.
On 9 November 1918, after the Kaiser went into Dutch exile, the monarchist Hellmuth von Mücke asked to be discharged - full of disappointment that the Kaiser had shirked responsibility while his men continued to fight for a lost cause. His final rank was Korvettenkapitän, but he preferred to introduce himself with his old rank. After discharge, he dedicated much time to writing and public speaking about his adventures. His books Emden and Ayesha had already been published in 1915 as censored ‘war editions’. They ranked among the bestselling German war literature, with Ayesha selling 332,000 copies and Emden 231,000. At the same time, von Mücke began to get politically active in the Weimar Republic.
ACQUAINTANCE OF DREXLER AND HITLER
First, and because he rejected the new Republic, he joined the DNVP but in the spring of 1919, he turned away from it, believing the party lacked any clear political line. Throughout the 1920s, as a means of subsistence, he conducted lecture tours through Germany, but in 1921 made the acquaintance of Anton Drexler and Adolf Hitler, finally joining the NSDAP. It was a step positively received by the National Socialists; the enlistment of a popular naval hero brought with it kudos for the then rather unknown party. Hellmuth von Mücke, however, avoided publicly advertising the NSDAP, feeling that an impression that a former officer was fostering a reactionary enterprise would have an adverse effect and that workers - who had to be won over - would be unsettled
by his public appearance. Instead, the retired Korvettenkapitän gave a lecture about his war experiences for the NSDAP in the Bürgerbräukeller, Munich, without foraying into party politics. In 1931, after his break with the NSDAP, he wrote:
‘I would also have talked for the communists if they asked me. My tales from the war were about events which were not of the concern of a single party, but of the people as a whole.’
Clearly, his ‘völkisch-socialist’ ideals were inclusive of all political agendas.
In 1922, von von Mücke moved to Dresden, aiming to dedicate himself to the creation of a local branch of the NSDAP. In the same year, he also travelled to the USA where he held a series of public talks, and from which he returned with a substantial sum of money. So much so that he could donate $500 to the NSDAP. After the failed ‘Hitler-putsch’ of 9 November 1923, the NSDAP was banned all over the Reich and in the period that followed, von Mücke again travelled to the USA to give talks. When he returned in March 1924, a successor to the NSDAP had been formed in Saxony under the name of the ‘Völkisch-sozialer Block’ (VSB). The VSB, which had financial troubles and declining membership, declared Mücke its lead candidate for the upcoming election. The ‘naval hero’, however, could not stop the decline of the party and failed to move into the Reichstag. At the head of the Saxon branch of the NSDAP from 1925, however, he succeeded in election to the Saxon State Parliament in 1926. In 1927, he vacated his position but remained active as an orator and organisator of the party in Saxony.
In 1929 it came to an outright break with the NSDAP, triggered by a row between von Mücke and party comrade, Manfred von Killinger, who insulted the Saxon’s ‘code of honour’ by claiming that von Mücke had embezzled party funds. In addition, von Mücke had offered a Saxon coalition between the NSDAP, KPD and the SPD; in the eyes of the Nazis, an unforgivable affront. Adolf Hitler tried to reconcile the conflict, but failed to change von Mücke’s stance or stop him leaving the NSDAP. The coalition offer, a scandal greatly welcomed by the press, had been von Mücke’s attempt to tone down the right-wing tendencies of the party. In newspaper interviews, he openly voiced rejection of what was by then Hitler’s NSDAP. He took umbrage at the entry of obscure men like von Killinger and found the personality cult around Hitler unbearable. In his eyes, Hitler threatened the leftist alignment of the party.
CONCENTRATION CAMP
After the break, von Mücke and his family moved to Wyk, on the island of Föhr, where he started work as a writer again. In 1930/31, he embarked on another lecture tour through Germany, this time organised by the veteran’s organisation ‘Reichsbanner Schwarzrot-gold’, and during which he openly criticised Hitler’s policies. Shortly afterwards, he published the first volume of his autobiographical series Linie, in which he again criticised the NSDAP and the Führer:
‘What today stands behind Hitler, must not be allowed to call itself National Socialism. It is Hitlerism, which has nothing to do with the clear will and aspiration which led to the foundation of the movement by Anton Drexler.’
Hitler now increasingly began to criticise von Mücke , describing him in typical Ns-jargon as: ‘National Bolshevik’, ‘traitor and slanderer’, ‘beggarly character’ or a ‘fat Bourgeois’, vilifying him as reactionary and idiosyncratic.
After the Nazi’s accession to power in January 1933, the former naval officer was banned from writing or holding public lectures. The first volume of his book Linie was confiscated by the police as the content was deemed ‘likely to endanger public order and safety’. A further two volumes, already in the planning, were never published. Hitler and the NSDAP now used new powers to get rid of all opposition, and von Mücke, having stood against Führer and party, would now feel the consequences. Yet, surprisingly, the National Socialists never turned him into a ‘persona non grata’, and in contrast to other critical ‘war heroes’ of the First World War, his name and deeds weren’t obliterated or banned from period books. Why the Ns-elite acted in such a manner can only be guessed at. Surely, though, von Mücke’s fame played a major role. This becomes clear in his attempts to gain the family name-affix
‘Emden’. Surviving crew members of SMS Emden had been offered the name as an honorary affix to their family name. When von Mücke applied in August 1933, he received an unambiguous reply:
‘I have refrained from passing your request on to the responsible Saxon Ministry of the Interior in Dresden. Your whole behaviour in recent years, especially your behaviour towards the Reich‘s Chancellor Adolf Hitler, and the fight against him, had nothing in common with the attitude once displayed by German officers and men of the Emden. Your merits for the Fatherland have been obliterated by your later conduct. These merits, however, have been taken into consideration by the government, and have saved you from deserved placement in a concentration camp.’
The following years saw more conflict with the Ns-state. In August 1936, the Gestapo ordered all von Mücke’s mail and telegraphs to be withheld and checked. It is unknown if he was under observation by the Gestapo, but he was arrested and imprisoned for a short time in 1938. He was barred from emigrating to Greece or Chile, with the rationale that his work was undesired in foreign countries. In 1938, Bertelsmann Publishing in Gütersloh contemplated new editions of the books Emden and Ayesha and the Reichsschrifttumskammer (Reichs Literature Chamber) was contacted to see whether there was anything ‘on file’ about von Mücke. It seems however, that Joseph Goebbels was personally on his case. In a letter by the Reichssicherheitshauptamtes (Reich Security Head Office) to the ‘Reich Minister of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda’, dated 27 January 1939, great concern about a new edition was expressed due to von Mücke’s ‘agitation’ against the ‘Führer and National Socialism’. In the same year, allegedly on Hitler’s direct order, he was imprisoned for several months in Fuhlsbüttel concentration camp (near Hamburg), before being prematurely released for health reasons.
CRITIC OF MILITARY POWER
Even in the face of such events, the patriotic character of the former naval officer dominated and at the outbreak of the Second World War he volunteered for service in the Kriegsmarine, deferring his rejection of the Ns-state in favour of what he perceived as a necessary defence of his country. His offer was rejected on the basis that he was politically unreliable. In February 1943, his eldest son Hellmuth was killed on the Eastern Front. Meanwhile, throughout the Second World War, von Mücke worked on the creation of tide-tables and manuals about dyke construction and coastal protection.
At the end of the war in 1945, von Mücke received the status of Persecutee of the Nazi Regime, but any compensation for his time in the concentration camp was denied because he had been an early member of the NSDAP. His wife, however, did receive compensation. In the new Federal Republic of Germany, the former officer committed himself increasingly to the Peace Movement, and from 1950 campaigned against rearmament of both German states.
After the First World War, Hellmuth von Mücke had come to realise that it was the soldier who had to pay for the failure of politicians, and from which had grown a distrust of authority. He was of the opinion that military conflict had to be avoided, and only be considered as a last resort. He foresaw that a future war between the West and the East would be fought on German soil, and in 1956 successfully advised his youngest son, Björn, to refuse compulsory military service.
Hellmuth von Mücke had become an outspoken critic of military power. As a result, he fell under suspicion of communist agitation and in the mid 1950s was put on trial for endeavouring to organise a public opinion poll on rearmament. On 30 July 1957, before any verdict was delivered, Hellmuth von Mücke died of heart failure in Ahrensburg, near Hamburg, where he is buried.
His daliance with the Nazis aside, and especially given his rejection of that party and its ideals, fate seems to have dealt Hellmuth von Mücke, hero of the Emden, a very poor hand across the decades since those dramatic events of 1914.