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frau kaleun · 07-05-10, 01:32 AM

(U-51, patrol 6, continued...)

We'd no sooner plotted a course back to our intended patrol area when we received report of another convoy, not far SE of us, this one heading WSW and with a confirmed Royal Navy escort. It was just after midnight, and the intercept course we plotted would put us in a decent attack position well before sunrise if the convoy held true to her reported course. And it was indeed just a few hours later when the first shout of "Ship sighted" from the watch brought me scrambling to the bridge myself. A destroyer, zigzagging back and forth in advance of the convoy. A quick drop to periscope depth and a sweep of the area from there revealed no change in her patrol pattern; she hadn't seen us!

I gave the order for silent running and lowered the scope; as I did, Helmut began reeling off reports of merchant after merchant heading directly into our intended line of attack, and then identified the screws of another two warships coming along with them. As they drew within visual range I raised the 'scope once more to have a peek at our oncoming adversaries; a battleship and, yes, another destroyer, the former cruising along in the middle of the pack and the latter just barely discernible as it nipped at the heels of its hindmost charges.

Another quick look around as we passed unseen in front of the first column of ships revealed the totality of the herd: three columns, none more than four rows deep, not including the warships, not one of which had altered course or given any indication that they'd tumbled to our presence. A quick 90 degree turn to port would put us nose-first into the convoy, in between the two starboard columns; good enough. Another well-timed turn would put all our tubes, fore and aft, in optimum attack position. As we maneuvered, slowly but surely, I popped up the 'scope again to choose my targets.

A Granville-type freighter and two medium-sized cargo tubs seemed to be the best the convoy had to offer, other than the menacing hulk of the afore-mentioned battleship; no doubt another capital ship would be a prize feather in my well-worn cap, but this patrol was about sinking merchants, and we'd probably not get a second chance at that - or have enough eels left over to make taking it worthwhile - if I went after the bristling monster in their midst instead. So be it. I popped up the 'scope again; still no apparent threat from the escorts, who all continued on their merry unheeding way; and now my first two targets were coming into range.

Rohr eins - los! rohr zwei - los! The first two eels were on their way, and if luck was with us today and not the Tommies that cargo ship would have an unpleasant surprise in, oh, about three minutes, give or take. Now a present for the Granville as well: rohr drei - los! rohr vier - los! And last but not least, a timely fart in the general direction of the second cargo ship. Rohr fünf - los!

The sound of the first explosion coincided almost perfectly with my order to dive. Helmut counted off two more distinct detonations as I lowered myself into the zentrale; Josef, my 1WO, insisted he'd heard four total. I glanced at Johannes, leaning over his chart table as usual, his stopwatch in hand, and watched as the young obersteuermann finally slid it back into its accustomed pocket and met my eyes with his own. A simple shrug told me the time had run out on our last eel; the noises that soon reverberated all around us told me and everyone else on board that at least one of our victims would never see port again.

Well, I thought, three - maybe four - hits out of five eels fired, and one confirmed sinking so far; not bad for a day's work, all things considered. And miracle of miracles, no sign of serious retaliation from the enemy escorts. We'd dropped to 100 meters, still running silent and making a scant 2 knots, as the tail end of the convoy had passed over us; one of the escorts had made a few passes on the outer fringes of the herd and put a few wabos in the water, but they seemed to have no idea exactly where the attack had come from or where the attacker had gone. The dreaded, unmistakeable ping of their ASDIC searching us out never came at all.

(to be continued...)

07-05-10, 01:32 AM	#1483
frau kaleun Rear Admiral Join Date: Nov 2009 Location: Skyri--oh who are we kidding, I'm probably at Lowe's. Again. Posts: 12,706 Downloads: 168 Uploads: 0	(U-51, patrol 6, continued...) We'd no sooner plotted a course back to our intended patrol area when we received report of another convoy, not far SE of us, this one heading WSW and with a confirmed Royal Navy escort. It was just after midnight, and the intercept course we plotted would put us in a decent attack position well before sunrise if the convoy held true to her reported course. And it was indeed just a few hours later when the first shout of "Ship sighted" from the watch brought me scrambling to the bridge myself. A destroyer, zigzagging back and forth in advance of the convoy. A quick drop to periscope depth and a sweep of the area from there revealed no change in her patrol pattern; she hadn't seen us! I gave the order for silent running and lowered the scope; as I did, Helmut began reeling off reports of merchant after merchant heading directly into our intended line of attack, and then identified the screws of another two warships coming along with them. As they drew within visual range I raised the 'scope once more to have a peek at our oncoming adversaries; a battleship and, yes, another destroyer, the former cruising along in the middle of the pack and the latter just barely discernible as it nipped at the heels of its hindmost charges. Another quick look around as we passed unseen in front of the first column of ships revealed the totality of the herd: three columns, none more than four rows deep, not including the warships, not one of which had altered course or given any indication that they'd tumbled to our presence. A quick 90 degree turn to port would put us nose-first into the convoy, in between the two starboard columns; good enough. Another well-timed turn would put all our tubes, fore and aft, in optimum attack position. As we maneuvered, slowly but surely, I popped up the 'scope again to choose my targets. A Granville-type freighter and two medium-sized cargo tubs seemed to be the best the convoy had to offer, other than the menacing hulk of the afore-mentioned battleship; no doubt another capital ship would be a prize feather in my well-worn cap, but this patrol was about sinking merchants, and we'd probably not get a second chance at that - or have enough eels left over to make taking it worthwhile - if I went after the bristling monster in their midst instead. So be it. I popped up the 'scope again; still no apparent threat from the escorts, who all continued on their merry unheeding way; and now my first two targets were coming into range. Rohr eins - los! rohr zwei - los! The first two eels were on their way, and if luck was with us today and not the Tommies that cargo ship would have an unpleasant surprise in, oh, about three minutes, give or take. Now a present for the Granville as well: rohr drei - los! rohr vier - los! And last but not least, a timely fart in the general direction of the second cargo ship. Rohr fünf - los! The sound of the first explosion coincided almost perfectly with my order to dive. Helmut counted off two more distinct detonations as I lowered myself into the zentrale; Josef, my 1WO, insisted he'd heard four total. I glanced at Johannes, leaning over his chart table as usual, his stopwatch in hand, and watched as the young obersteuermann finally slid it back into its accustomed pocket and met my eyes with his own. A simple shrug told me the time had run out on our last eel; the noises that soon reverberated all around us told me and everyone else on board that at least one of our victims would never see port again. Well, I thought, three - maybe four - hits out of five eels fired, and one confirmed sinking so far; not bad for a day's work, all things considered. And miracle of miracles, no sign of serious retaliation from the enemy escorts. We'd dropped to 100 meters, still running silent and making a scant 2 knots, as the tail end of the convoy had passed over us; one of the escorts had made a few passes on the outer fringes of the herd and put a few wabos in the water, but they seemed to have no idea exactly where the attack had come from or where the attacker had gone. The dreaded, unmistakeable ping of their ASDIC searching us out never came at all. (to be continued...)