I was sitting on the conning tower smoking a cigarette. Then the splash of a wave soaked it. I tried to draw another puff. It tasted loathsome and frizzled. Then I became angry and threw it away.

I can see my reader’s surprised expression. You had expected to read a serious U-boat story and now such a ridiculous beginning! But I know what I am doing. If I had once thrown myself into the complicated U-boat system and used a bunch of technical terms, this story would be shorter and more quickly read through, but you would not have understood half of it.

Seriousness will come, bitter and pitiable seriousness. In fact, everything is serious which is connected with the life on board a submarine and none of it is funny; although in fact it is the hundred small inconveniences and peculiar conditions on a U-boat which make life on it remarkably characteristic. And in order to bring to the public a closer knowledge concerning the peculiar life on board a U-boat I am writing this story. Good—therefore my log-book! Yes, why should I not make use of it? To this I also wish to add that I not only used my own log-book but also at many places had use of other U-boats’ logs in order to present one or another episode which is worth the while relating. Thus, for example, the story of the many fishing-smacks, which are spoken of in the chapter called “Rich Spoils,” is borrowed, but the happenings in the witch kettle, the adventure with the English bulldog, and also most of the other chapters are my own feathers with which I have adorned this little story. This is the only liberal right of an author which I permit myself. The style of the story from a log-book is simple and convenient, and one buys so willingly such stories. See there two valid reasons for making use of it.

The Author.