" NACHTLAGER " IN MADEIRA

By GEORGE EDINGER

HE was wandering a little aimlessly among the basket- chairs of the Golden Gate tavern, which effectively commands every approach from the landing stage to the town of Funchal. Fair hair, a cloth cap, a swastika buttonhole (we all carry one, it is better so, a colleague of his had just whispered to me over the table) did not mark him out from the fifteen hundred German tourists who were disgorged upon Madeira over the New Year from three twenty-thousand-ton liners. But he did seem anxious to be by himself, and that was queer. Where the others marched about in droves loudly shouting " Restaurant° ? " which, not being the Portu- guese for a restaurant the first time they said it, did not become so by dint of repeated and strident reitera- tion, he blinked a little uncomfortably. When they were marshalled to proceed to " the quaint fishing village of Camara dos Lobos" in ninety motor-cars he slid unobtrusively into the " Golden Gate."

That was a bond between us. I felt the call of a fellow creature. If his Nazi ship was as Nazi as my British one I felt that I could understand his craving for • solitude. General Goering himself could not be more forceful, nor, let me add, more efficient than the fearsome lady who extracted five shillings from me for the sports which I could only escape by plunging into the swimming-tank before anybody else and then telling the rest of the passengers it would do them a world of good to follow my example. Nor can I imagine a more Spartan affliction than the gentleman who woke me every morning at 8.30 sharp by bugling " The roast beef of old England " at my cabin door. After so much collectivism a little solitude could be very sweet. However, he sat down opposite to me with a little stiff bow. I said something polite in bad German and he looked surprised.

" Madeira is very lovely just now," he remarked.

" You are staying long."

" I think yes."

" Then you are not sailing with the ' Columbus.' " " Verzeihen—I was on the ' Milwaukee.' " " I mean you are not sailing on the Milwaukee.? " " No. I shall be here some . . . some days.'.' I tried a new line.

" Is your ship very full ? "

" She is over full," he said, proudly. " All three ships arc over-full, ' Milwaukee," Pretoria," Columbus,' all booked up." He waved proudly to the bay where three huge German cruising liners dwarfed one rather pathetic British ship, an old Portuguese steamer and a gunboat.

" Then many Germans still -travel it seems. Three cruises to Madeira at New Year is a lot."

" But the money goes to German owners. You see, on shore we spend nothing."

" Well, ten marks."

" Ten marks on the voyage—the purser allows it to us. But that is not all for Madeira. We touched at Lisbon and Ceuta."

" Oh." I became interested. " And from Ceuta did you visit Tetuan ? " • " It is sometimes a little awkward only to have ten marks. It means we cannot tip very freely. That does not make us beloved."

" I can understand that."

" On the other hand, nobody worries us to buy things. They have learnt better."

" Tell me, was the Columbus ' at Lisbon with you ? " " Certainly. Also at Tetuan. But the ' Pretoria ' was not there."

Still, I reflected two giant excursion liners at once can make a great impression on a city. Here in Funchal, where every house belonging to a German flew its swastika while bands of opulent looking Germans paraded the streets and German flags were fluttering in the harbour, a stranger would have imagined himself in a German colony. And a simple native would be, was, as I well knew, 'tremendously impressed with these outward symbols of German wealth and power. It would cer- tainly be the same- in Tetuan, and in Lisbon, too, where ribbons in • the Portuguese, Nazi and Franco colours crowded every shop window. They are certainly fine sho-:-.men in the third Reich.

" Let me give you that - drink," said my new friend suddenly.

" On ten marks. Certainly I could not dream of it."

" Oh, do not worry. As I told you I shall stay here some time. I am allowed to take more than ten marks ashore."

I was trying to guess his rank. Also his aim. I was thinking, too, that Madeira is only twenty-four hours from the Canaries, which are in Franco's hands. Several passengers would probably get off here. But then, of course, it was all pure guesswork and he was not likely to tell me very much. Besides they were getting ready for the New Year fireworks display and I was anxious to get back to my ship in time for the show.

" I must say goodbye," I remarked. "Also Prosit Neujahr. Our boat sails tonight. I envy you being able to stay." - - " Oh, Madeira is a pleasant resort (Erholungs 04)."

" A nice place to be in garrison," I suggested. Then I went away without waiting for the answer. All along the quay were resident Germans ; they were going, they told me, aboard the German steamers so that they could spend the New Year on German soil. The swastika flags at the bows, vast banners dipping in the sea like the banderoles of a Tudor galleon, were all floodlit and the ships were picked out in lights. The British steamer was no longer visible. She was not illuminated. At intervals along the crowded quay large notices swung aloft, Einbootung hier ,fair ' Columbus' or Milwaukee ' cr ' Pretoria.' Beneath each of them a trim ship's officer, assisted by four stewards all in uniform, had roped off a space for the guests and passengers of the ship. It went off with clockwork precision before the admiring gaze of crowds of Portuguese of all classes out on the pier to see the New Year fireworks. At one of the landing stages a group of young men from the local Patriotic Club, with white crosses outlined in red dangling over their evening shirts, were cheering Hitler. I could not find the place to embark for the British steamer. There had been a notice board of some sort, but apparently it had been propped up against a lamp- post and knocked over by the crowd.

None of the Portuguese could tell me. One—he wore officers' uniform—was most sympathetic because I had not come on the ' Columbus.' " They arc fine ships these German ships," he said, " fine people, too. They leave a great impression behind them. Tell me why does your Government back the Communists in Spain ? "

I did not want a political argument so I asked a German steward where to embark for the British ship. " Right here, sir, next launch along."

As I sat alone in the local motor-launch jogging towards my darkened ship the boatman began to expatiate on the glories of the coming firework display. " They send them up from the hill, also the Casino and the old fort, senhor. But I think tonight the best fireworks will go up from the German ships."

" I am sure they will," I answered wearily.