[Kaptlt.Endrass]

Playing SHIII, mucking around the Western Approaches in late 1944 in a Type XXI. It's a little before midnight, and we've surfaced to air out the submarine and charge the batteries after running submerged halfway through the Denmark Strait due to the constant patrols of Allied bombers.

While we're traversing the slightly choppy waves, I hear a loud, too-familiar buzzing. For the first time in all of my SHIII campaigns, I get illuminated by a flight of Short Sunderlands (I believe) carrying the Leigh Light. Having only my secodary watch crew on station, we didn't see them until it was too late.

I immediately order all hands to action stations and a full crash dive as the first few depth charges go off, far over to starboard. The U-2507 makes a hard turn to port in response, just passing 25 metres now. However, a second pass by another Sunderland must have bracketed the sub, and flooding begins in both engine rooms.

I send the damage repair crew, already busy so far this patrol, on station to fix the most serious flooding in the sternmost engine compartments, praying that the pumps can hold out long enough in the diesel room for the damage controlmen to get there in time.

At this point, some 50 metres down, I give the order for the sub to level out and slow to ahead full as depth charges continue to go off overhead. Standing in the control room, however, I notice that the needle on the depth gauge seems to be edging steadily towards 100, and the ship seems to be tilting.

To make a long story a little shorter, we get down to 230 metres by the time the electric engine room is fixed and the intake of water has ceased. The damage crew immediately starts work on the damage to the diesels, but the ship has only slowed her descent.

By now, the helmsman is frantically keeping myself and the rest of the crew aware that we've long passed critical depth...260 metres. The glass on almost every instrument has broken, and the creaking of the submarine is getting a little too loud for comfort as all available hands work furiously on getting the water out of the compartments.

Finally, at 314 metres, after the lights have gone out and left us in total darkness, repairs are completed. Hoping the British are gone, I blow every bit of compressed air out of the tanks and U-2507 shoots for the surface. At 2347 hours, we breach the surface of the water and exit the submarine to survey the damage-a gaping hole and scorched metal along the aft of the ship.

I don't know how we survived, but as of right now, we are making for Trondheim, taking the most northern route available in an attempt to avoid patrols of any sort. I have given strict orders that the submarine is not to go below 25 metres.

After that harrowing experience, I think we'll settle for that lone liberty ship.