4 of 8

Write now Article Tools

Rudolph Diesel Did he jump or was he pushed?

September 29th 1913. A man rests his head despairingly on his arms, as they rest on the salty handrail of a mail-steamer bound for Harwich, England. Momentarily, he raises his eyes to scan the horizon. Yet the green waves from which he tastes the odd drop of tangy spray offer him no solace, or any aid in making his tragic decision. He squeezes his head between his hands in the hope of relieving the migraine which, like his money trouble, plagues him. He wonders whether it is worth going on.

And yet he ponders upon how far he has come, and where all his success has brought him. In some ways he has done very well for a son,born in Paris in 1858, of a poor immigrant leather-worker from Bavaria. He had made his struggling but aspirational parents proud, his sisters too, by winning in 1875, through his early genius and hard work, a scholarship to the prestigious Munich polytechnic. He had even been spared national service due to his potential in the field of science. In Paris, he reflected ruefully, where he was working as a refrigeration engineer he had even been responsible for a patented method of freezing ice-cubes. And yet here he stood, alone on deck, feeling as if he had no friend in the world, the self-made man whose work furthering the possibilities of the internal combustion engine had made him rich and famous. A man many others would envy, he told himself.

Almost in a trance, he carefully folded his overcoat and placed it neatly under the handrail of the ship, his hat placed tidily on top. He placed one foot on the bottom rail of the ship's side, and gazed down miserably into the swirling frothing grey depths of the ocean. Again, he hesitated, to consider his position. It was true, he reasoned, that with his new innovations in engine design that he was much in demand, and yet the social conscience that had always been his concern told him his ground-breaking designs would not be used in the pursuit of peace, but something much darker. Already he was being pressurised by the Germans to adapt his ideas for use in Machines of War. Despairingly, he could see only one way out of that situation. He felt cornered.

A salty breeze ruffled the greying hair on his now hatless head. He shivered as he thought of what was to come. Should he re-consider? In some ways it was already too late for that. An explanatory letter to his wife had already been sent. But he was at least glad he had left things in good order at home. Touring

• 1
• 2
• 3
• next page >>

Add your voice

Know something about Biography: Rudolf Diesel?
We want to hear your view. Write now!