Historian Arthur R. Nicholls found an account of a Kendal family who inadvertently got caught up in the drama following the outbreak of the First World War.

IT WAS July 28, 1914. War clouds were darkening the sky while Mr and Mrs R. Mooney sailed with their two children on the Union Castle liner Galicia on their way back from South Africa.

Mr Mooney had been a baker in Kendal before going to South Africa 12 years before. At one time he had had a hotel in Bechuanaland but more recently had been gold mining.

The family, who were coming back to England for a holiday, had boarded the ship in Cape Town and gave a graphic account of their voyage.

As they contemplated being back home in Kendal again, any thought of war was the last thing on their minds, even though they saw a German gunboat in the harbour loading coal for its boilers.

A week later the captain of the liner instructed the passengers to draw the curtains over the portholes at night as a precaution, now that England had declared war on Germany. Even now they had no thought of danger, even though the liner followed a different course.

Things seemed more ominous when the liner's bright colours were covered with a dark grey and its name was painted out. However, the passengers were encouraged when they saw that the British warship HMS Carnarvon was escorting them.

All went well until August 14 when, about 90 miles from Tenerife, a dark speck appeared on the distant horizon.

As it came nearer and drew alongside, it was seen to be an ugly black steamer. It signalled the liner to stop and not to use its wireless.

To the horror of the passengers, the ship carried a German flag fluttering from its mast. The wireless operator of the Galicia bravely disobeyed the order and managed to signal 'SOS Gal...' when another message came from the German ship to stop using the wireless or be blown up!

It immediately had the desired effect and the liner fell ominously quiet.

It was now apparent that the ship was the armoured liner, Kaiser Wilhelm de Grosse, which sent a further message, 'Follow us'.

Two German officers, with some sailors came aboard the Galicia and examined the ship's papers and holds. They we told, untruthfully, that there were no military or naval personnel on board and, after a time, they seemed satisfied and made ready to return to their ship.

The passengers on the Galicia were ordered to pack all their belongings and be ready at a moment's notice the next morning to go to the lifeboats and be lowered into the rough sea. Fear was apparent among the passengers who tried in vain to put on a brave face as they contemplated their coming ordeal.

Then, at about 5am the following day, there came a message from the German ship, 'No further orders from you. You are released. Goodbye', and it left at full speed.

Everyone, crew and passengers alike, were highly relieved, but one question remained unanswered: Why had there been such a sudden change of mind?

It remained a mystery as the Galicia made its way up the River Thames to Tilbury Docks a week later, unscathed after a great adventure, and the Mooneys had a great tale to tell.