Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden (Long!)

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden – 1 Sep ’39 – 15 Sep ‘39

I have been given command of my first boat! After completing the Submarine Commander course in February, I have been waiting for my command. I was given my orders two weeks ago to prepare to take command of U-49.
A brand new VIIB! I can hardly believe my luck. I was expecting a well used Type II. My friend Jansen was put in one of those after he was caught ‘flirting’ (that’s the word he used) with the Commandants daughter. I suppose it was worth it. She is rather charming.

On my way back from BDu headquarters this morning, I chanced to walk past the barracks hospital. I was re-reading my boat specification when I walked straight into one of the nurses. I felt terrible. I immediately helped her pick up her things, and that’s when I actually realized how beautiful she was! She has long reddish hair, and a pale skin. Her eyes are as blue as the sky at sea. Being perhaps a bit emboldened by the fact I’m now a bona fide Kaleun, I introduced myself. Her name is Suzanne Wikus. Apparently she’s a volunteer nurse at the hospital on base.

Reported to my Commanding Officer today and was given my shore based office. It’s a cramped little thing, but I’ll take it over the filthy cubicle I worked in while I was at Naval Intelligence! I was given my crew manifests too! It seems with this war with Britain looming, the Command has seen fit to pass many of the youngsters through with little training. My crew is very inexperienced. I’m under-staffed with Officers, but I managed to enlist some higher ranking NCOs and seamen. I’ll train up a NCO to fill the Officer’s station within the next few cruises. It’s always better to have a ‘home-grown’ officer on ones boat!
In the past week, I’ve found myself thinking of the girl I bumped into at the hospital. I should try track her down again.

Over the last week I’ve met with the officers and crew of my new boat. They’re as green as they come, but I guess I’m not all that crusty either! Aside from one or two nervous looking rats, they seem an affable lot.
My first mate and chief engineer Sub Lieutenant Fritz will ensure we are fully ready to cast off in the morning.

This morning, we cast off our lines and departed from Kiel base. We’re assigned a quadrant on the western side of the British Isles. Our orders are to interdict the shipping routes there. I’m caught up in the euphoria of the moment.

Today, the 3rd of September, we received traffic from BDu that we are now at war with Britain! About time too, we’ll through off the stigma forced on us at Versailles and take our place as a power in the European community! Sadly, these thoughts fell on uninterested ears when I discussed it with my officers. They just shrugged at me, as if to say, ‘whatever’. Fritz, my Chief Engineer, was a little more excited than the rest. He looks forward to pitting our boat against the ‘fat and lazy English’. That’s the aggressive sort of thinking we need on this boat! We must cultivate a fighting spirit and take the wind out of the sails of the pompous west!
It is also my birthday, a fact only Fritz was aware of. Nevertheless, he and the rest of the officers took the time to approach me at the conn and wish me happy birthday. The news spread through the ship quite quickly, and most of the crew politely wished me too. I must remember to thank Fritz for his thoughtfulness. I just wish he’d stop staring at me and licking his lips all the time!

We are getting ready to pass Northen England. Before we could transit though, we received radio traffic informing us of a ship in our area. We managed an intercept and attacked! Sadly, our green crew fired off three torpedoes and only scored a hit with one! We were forced to surface and use our deck gun to sink her! I appointed one of our NCOs to man the guns, one Gotz Kals. His aim was marginal at best, but it could be he was nervous at the fact I was standing behind him telling him where to shoot. One would think the term ‘waterline’ pretty self-explanatory, but ‘ol Gotz seemed intent on shooting into the command deck. A well timed slap to the back of his head soon had him adjusting his aim.

We arrived on station in our patrol area with three kills to our name. This meant we only had four torpedoes left, two fore and two aft. Sadly, our torpedo skills leave much to be desired. A fact I have made clear to the crew in explicit detail. As a result, most of our kills have been due to shelling, not torpedo runs!
We had been on station for about 15 hours when we received news of a convoy heading towards the English coast. Too good an opportunity to miss, I plotted an intercept course for the convoy and ordered a flank run. We arrived in a position slightly behind the convoy, and proceeded with a surfaced stern chase. A risky maneuver, but due to the weather conditions, we were confident we could avoid any trouble. Visibility was dreadful, as we encountered the convoy smack bang in the middle of a storm! We were on course doing a good 17 knots when out of nowhere an American C3 appeared 200 meters off our bow! Some quick rudder work bought her alongside, but no alarm was raised. Steaming into the middle of the convoy, I decided to submerge the ship, knowing that the chances of my periscope being spotted in this weather were slim. We traversed the convoy at flank speed and managed to down three ships! The prize sinking was a T2 Tanker and the other two C2 cargo’s made for good target practice. The torpedo crew excelled. And with the four torpedo’s fired we only had one dud! I was very proud of my men. Having expended our torpedoes we submerged to 100 feet and exited the area. Although our hydrophones detected three warships, not one of them broke course to investigate, thanks to the appalling weather!

We transited back to base under orders from BDu, unfortunately, the stormed followed us all the way to port, so we couldn’t use our d/g for any engagement. Our last engagement before we entered the port occurred when we spotted a lone costal merchant. I maneuvered alongside her and allowed the officers each a chance to go onto the bridge and wave at the ship! That elicited a good few laughs and comments about how fast the softies could make their propellers spin when they had the correct incentive. The mood aboard the sub was excellent as we pulled into dock. We had performed an excellent patrol, expending all our fish, and although we have many areas in which to improve, we proved to each other we are capable of taking the fight to the enemy!

As we were docking, Fritz came onto the bridge and caught me staring at the base hospital, thinking about Suzanne.
“You have a brother in there Kaleun?” He asked, indicating the hospital.
“No Fritz. I met someone there, and I’m wondering what I can break to see her again.”
Fritz had a good laugh at that and made a very good point, “You just sunk 5 ships Kaleun. You shouldn’t worry about talking to a fraulein.”
I think Fritz is wiser than he appears.

We held an awards ceremony after the patrol, and I presented Gotz Kals my gunner with the Iron Cross for his exceptional work in sinking those boats. I also promoted one of our seamen. I’ve sent my Watch Officer Carlewitz for Torpedo man training, with the hope that he will assist the torpedo crew during underwater operations. The improvement in efficiency there may reduce our miss/hit ratio.

And now, a few days rest and we’ll get our orders. I’ll make more notes in this diary as that happens!

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Enchanter]

Diary of Gerhard Linden 13 Oct ’39 – 30 Oct ‘39

Received our orders to patrol off the coast of Spain.
Headed off with the crew, and while exiting the docks began plotting the course to the patrol zone with the Nav Officer. He was totally horrified when I ordered him to plot a course through the Straits of Dover. Of course, he did what he was told, being a good little German.
Later my CE came over to ask me if I’d lost my mind. I laughed maniacally and said yes.
Note to self: Doing this sets the crew on edge…

Transiting the strait at periscope depth, I typically intercepted and sank anything that moved like a merchant. Being a bit cocky from our last patrol, our first engagement was a little hairy.
Spotting a lone costal merchant, I flipped off a single torp at her. It missed. Swearing a blue streak that made my Weapons Officer go slightly pale, I ordered the boat surfaced and the d/g manned. Kals got his chance to prove why he earned a Iron Cross Second Class on his last patrol, and blew her out of the water with some beautifully placed deck shots. While I’m securing from battle stations, I hear a distinctively strange sound. The sound of a shell whizzing by my boat. I glance around and on the horizon I spot a destroyer making for us! The damned merchant had radioed for assistance! With a filthy look for my Watch Officer, I ordered an excursion to 20 feet, given that we had only 21 feet of water. Slowing down substantially, I turned perpendicular to my original course and slowly began sneaking away. The first set of depth charges caught us a bit by surprise, but they were off the mark and we only suffered a jarring or two. Settling in at the hydrophones, I ordered the ship to flank and back to Slow between bouts of the charges being dropped. There is no more joyful sound than a depth charge being dropped somewhere you are not.

Sneaking away, having gained a lesson in humility, I summoned the Watch Officer to my berth, whereupon I launched a tirade reminding him that his job would be to watch out for ships that can shoot us, and I would worry about the ships we were shooting at. I think he got the point, because subsequently, his ship spotting became far more reliable!

Transiting the straight at periscope depth was a necessary evil. We saved a thousand km of travel and gave ourselves the opportunity for tonnage. During the transit to the patrol zone, a further 2 ships were sunk. Both Small Merchants though. We have been developing a technique I like to refer to as a ‘front-on sneak attack’. Approaching a target dead on, bow to bow, I fire off a magnetic trigger torp , passing by him, close alongside, I fire off a second torpedo from my stern, also set to magnetic trigger. This results in much confusion as the ships invariably try to guess which side I’m actually attacking from. As a result of this shot, I saw two destroyers heading in the opposite direction of my sub, in an attempt to track me. I must state that the weather conditions assisted this technique, as the storm conditions hid the wake of my torps and my periscope. I find this method far ore reliable, if riskier, than conventional attack runs. I shall have the crew exercise them some more, possible against military targets.

Arriving on station, we had an uneventful patrol, however, our return trip, following the same course as the approach, gave us two more ships to sink. Morale on the boat was lowering, as we had thus far sunk nothing but costal merchants and small merchant ships. The crew began muttering about having a challenge, so I glanced over the map and made some corrections to the navigators plot. Changes that included a transit to, and through the Portsmouth Dock. Much to the horror of the crew, I entered the port at night, on the surface and manned deck guns. Unfortunately, only two ships where docked, the first to go down to our guns was another small merchant, but the second was the prize of our patrol. A T2 tanker sat in the docks, begging to be sunk. I gave ‘ol Kals my gunner carte blanche and in 5 shots he had the beast ablaze and sunk. I was very proud. With a mad dash back out the dock gates, we were in the open ocean again, not a moment too soon as a V&W Destroyer came racing up to defend Portsmouth! Again the weather was our ally, as we slipped right past her in the violent waters. Not 20 minutes out of the dock we happen upon another C2 Cargo ship, but sadly, we had only two torps left, both of which hit, but did not sink the ship. Exuberant over our victory however, we broached the surface and made for home. Out of nowhere a costal merchant wandered across our path and I was able to convince Kals to man the d/g again. 15 minutes after fireballing that ship, another small merchant crossed our paths, and was sent to a watery grave.

A total of nine kills had our crew in a state of euphoria that lasted the whole trip home. Fritz was humming a merry tune the whole way (quite annoying really) and our navigator, by far my least biggest fan actually smiled at me and greeted me when I resumed the conn. Whisper among the crew have started, saying things like our boat is blessed, and even better, her officers are true naval warriors. Our crew slave for us now, and the NCOs treat us with noticeable deference.

Arriving in dock was a raucous affair. I handed over our patrol logs and nominated my crew for medals and awards. The awards ceremony included 2 promotions and another Iron Cross Second class! The Commandant then ordered me to the front of the ranks, and presented me with my Iron Cross 2nd Class, much to the exuberance of the crew. The resulting party was epic. I was especially touched that the crew invited the officers along, and I was pleased when the others accepted as well! Our camaraderie is fast becoming the talk of the base.

On the subject of the base, I thought about Fritz had to say, and decided to suck in my gut and go to the hospital to see Suzanne again. I earned a few odd looks, decked in full dress uniform (hey, chicks dig it) asking for Suzanne at reception. I assume it’s because mostly, they tend to have naval officers walking out not in.
I found her on first floor by the dispensary. She was at her desk annotating some files. She looked up and was quite startled when I appeared. I was extremely nervous, but I asked her to dinner, and she accepted! I was overjoyed, and walked out with a huge smile on my face. Another rare occurrence at the hospital apparently, seeing how I got more odd looks.
Suzanne has agreed to meet me for dinner at a little bistro we have near the base. I’ll include more on that in my next entry. For now, I’m going to find Fritz and have a celebratory drink….to calm my nerves.

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt

[johan_d]

isnt easy to read for my eyes.. black on grey..

[Enchanter]

THATS what I coouldn't put my finger on!! I was wondering why it looked different! :lol: Sorry about that!! I'll fix it quick!:damn:

[Morts]

nice read:)

[Sea Wolf]

Good read! Looking forward to the next one :up:

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 27 November ’39 – 9 December ‘39

Our orders in hand, the crew cast off the lines and made for the western coast of England. Our track took us north of the port of Scapa Flow and resulted in a good many targets of opportunity!

No fewer than 5 merchant ships (including one fishing boat) took the final plunge. Our torpedo skills left much to be desired, a 50% hit rate was, in my opinion, not good enough for a ship of our caliber. I have instituted a ‘two shot policy’ aboard the boat. In circumstances permitted by weather, a medium to large ship, (Small Merchants and up) will be fired upon with two torpedoes. Should either (or in some cases both) torps miss or fail to detonate, I surface and hand the destruction over to my gunner Gotz Kals. This policy stresses the evaluation of a target, not in terms of tonnage, but in respect of what is occurring in the surrounding area. I aborted one such use of the policy during the patrol when my sonar man detected a warship inbound to our position. However, for the most part, this policy allowed me to conserve torps for more dire situations.

One incident I am still quite livid about is my encounter with a C2 Cargo just off my patrol zone. I established a submerged intercept, in the classic 90° position. At 1000m I launched a salvo of two torpedoes both set to fast and magnetic trigger at 8 feet. I was suspicious of the indicated track by my Weapons officer, but I trusted to his judgement. Which, ultimately was my greatest error. The damned fool managed to miss the target completely both fore and aft of the target. Needless to say, I was a slightly grouchy commander. Nevertheless, I refrained from introducing him to the bulkhead long enough to re-direct another salvo launch. Again, a silly mistake, though this time, only one torpedo missed. One slammed into the aft of the ship, slowing her, but by no means causing a sinking feeling. Having wasted four torpedoes already I ordered a surfacing and the d/g manned. Karl put her under with several shots later. During this time, I remained below and slammed the weapon officers head into the bulkhead. On every shot fired, so as not to give away our position…

Relieving the dazed weapons officer of duty for a while, we entered our patrol zone. Quickly I established contact, but our foray against the C2 meant that we were sorely missed by no less than three destroyers. As they passed out of detection range, I happened across another C2. I’m pretty sure that these ships were designed to give me a headache. They are fast becoming the bane of my tonnage reports. Firing two individual torpedoes into the pig, both of which hit (thus proving the fault lay with the Weps Officer, still dazed in his quarters), the C2 steamed on, quite oblivious to my attack. Considering this to be poor etiquette on the part of the target captain, I directed the boat to surface and manned the d/g once more. I ordered Kals to fire on the command deck, to display our displeasure at being ignored.
After about 6 shells, the captain of the C2 was graceful enough to sink the ship.

Our patrol sector now cleared, we left the area and happened to encounter another costal merchant. I swear, I’m using some or other deodorant that attracts the damned things. One torpedo later, this time delivered by my Weps Officer, eager to please I might add, we had her sunk. 7 Hours later I crossed paths with a tug boat! I was quite happy to leave the thing along, seeing how it wasn’t worth the tonnage, but Kals begged me for a chance to shoot it. He claimed it would be amusing! I agreed, and went to the bridge to watch Kals have his fun. Subsequently we’ve taken to calling him ‘Tug Boat Charlie’. He wears the new name with pride!
Rounding the Scapa Flow base area once again, we intercepted a small merchant, with only two torpedoes remaining, I was loathe to fish for her, so I manned the d/g again. Although we were running short of shells, Kals challenged me to a shooting contest. In the spirit of teaching the little swine a lesson or six in advanced naval gunnery, I accepted. We pulled alongside the boat at 1500 m, and proceeded to call of targets. Kals is a devious little *****! He called some very difficult shots. He was suitably impressed when he indicated the flag pole, and I took it out with a single shot. After alternating between us for six shots, I tired of the game and ordered Kals to fire into the engine room. With a single HE shot he tore the boat apart. I was suitably impressed. Fritz informed me that he had heard Kals later talking about the contest, apparently he was rather inspired by my display, and has decided to name ‘his’ d/g ‘Kaleun’s Ire’. I think that should serve as a fervent reminder for our esteemed weapons officer too!

Due to the excellent weather during the patrol, I despaired of ever having the opportunity to try further exercises of the ‘front on sneak attack’ manoeuvre. However, as we entered the last leg of our journey, a single small merchant happened along. The weather had degraded sufficiently for me to try the tactic, and once again we demonstrated the power of German engineering where you need it most on a torpedo. The exploding part.

Fritz had questioned me with regard to my dinner with Suzanne. I had enjoyed a lovely evening with the girl. She is bright and witty, and has a very gentle disposition. She admitted, all the while blushing beautifully, that she had looked me up in the Naval Command office and had been told of my reputation as a U-Boat commander. I was flattered that such a stunning woman would take so much interest in a U-Boat commander. It turns out, the bistro was owned by one of her friends husbands and we spent nearly the entire evening talking. When I finally walked her home, we parted ways with a hug, that, although I may have imagined it, lingered deliciously.
Fritz says lingering hugs are a good sign. I’m certain I’m going to have to have this man shot…

As I was making my way onto the boat, I was handed a note by one of the dock men. It was a brief letter from Suzanne, wishing me well for the patrol. I’ve kept it in my pocket ever since. I think we may have a good luck charm, for this patrol netted no fewer than 12 ships! As a result, I invited Suzanne to attend the awards ceremony for the patrol. The awards ceremony had me presenting another Iron Cross 2nd Class, this time to my NCO watch stander for his exceptional ship spotting skills. A Iron Cross 1st class went to a machinist I had observed during the patrol. Not once in the seven days did he leave his station! According to the crew, he took short naps at his station whenever he had a full compartment, but the Cross I had awarded him in the previous cruise inspired him to work even harder. No doubt Chief Sr. Warrant Officer Herbert Reckhoff is on the fast track to promotion. I still have an officers berth to fill, and his qualification as Machinist will fill the post nicely. My commanding officer presented me with my Iron Cross 1st class, and with my U-Boat War badge AND my U-Boat Front Clasp. The crew were rather jubilant after the ceremony, and I received a few phone calls complaining about my crews excessively loud singing and bragging at local drinking halls, the next day. Apparently most of my crew are strutting about, telling anyone who’ll listen they are the crew of U-49, you know, the U-49, with the best damned crew ever to sail the English waters!
This morale boost will no doubt serve us well in a war that seems set to last a long while.
I’ve spent many evenings with Suzanne since our arrival home. We also went on a day bicycle ride around country, then picnicked in a field. We’ve become extremely close, and several times she’s accompanied me to various officer parties at the officers club. She is a constant source of mirth, she brightens me up considerably. Several of the crew have now seen me about town with her, and I imagine, rumours have already started. I’ll deal with that when next we sail. Fritz has admitted to both her and I, that he is confused how such a grumpy U-boat commander (who are vastly inferior to Chief Engineer’s he’ll have us know), has managed to attract such a vivacious lady. I’m still certain I’ll have to have this man shot…

Due to the date of our arrival, I imagine we’ll not sail until next year. I look forward to taking the famous U-49 and her excellent crew out again as we terrorise the waters off the English coast.

Until next time,

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 6 January ’40 – 22 January ‘40

After an age in dock, we were finally handed fresh orders, to patrol the same area west of England. Thus, we established a plot and made for the patrol zone.
24 hours out of dock, we met an outbound Costal Merchant. Our torpedo skills have improved considerably, and she went down with a single shot amidships.

About a day later we diverted off course to investigate radio reports of a ship in our area. We intercepted a C3 Cargo ship. Those things are impressively big! Due to the weather, I knew we’d have no opportunity to shell her, so accuracy was the name of the game. We established a parallel course until we were slightly ahead of the ship, then came in at a 90° angle off the port side. At periscope depth, with wind velocity a good 15 km/s the sea state was rough, and I pondered the settings on my depth gauges. I elected to set three alternating depths. Tube 1 was set to below the keel, at 11 m, tube 2 was set to 8 meters, hoping for a side on impact on the same line as the first, and the third shot was set to 4 meters. The varying depths took into account the possibility of a premature detonation, and as I was firing off single shots (my previous foray with salvoes not forgotten by either myself or my now concussed Weapons Officer) I wanted to allow for the possibility that the ship would be lower and slower in the water after successive hits.
Launching tube 1, we waited 15 seconds before firing off the second torpedo. I had established a close approach, and torpedo run time was approximately 30 seconds. However, as I launched the second (and shallower) fish, I was surprised by a detonation. The first torpedo, at 10m, had detonated a full 200 meters from it’s target. I was worried about two things immediately. Would my shallower shot meet the same fate? And what would the reaction onboard that target be?

Not wanting to miss the opportunity for a well placed third shot, I launched my third torpedo and began plotting my new attack position. Two successive explosions had me at the periscope in seconds, and to my delight, I observed the C3 engulfed in flame. Dubious that such a ponderous hulk would go under from two torpedoes, I began plotting my third firing position on the now dead in the water ship. As we were maneuvering however, my look outs reported that the ship had broken apart in an explosion. Although three torpedoes had been launched, the ship had been sunk by only two. Impressed by the level of skill aboard the boat, we continued our journey.

Buoyed by our success against a formidable target, we later sank a small merchant, though this now felt like small fish compared to what we had destroyed.
24 hours later we received simultaneous reports of two contacts, on opposite sides of our track! I plotted both projected movements, then elected to hunt down the faster, and nearer target. Intercepting a C2 in rough seas, we submerged to periscope depth. I tried to pretend that the sinking feeling was a result of our excursion below the surface, but the reality remains that I, and now most of the crew believe that C2 cargo ships are our bane. Two magnetic torpedoes slammed into the beast, but she hardly paused for breath. In the worsening sea state, I was unable to execute my two torpedo policy, so I ordered another torpedo into her. This time, she came to a dead stop. However, 20 minutes later she showed no sign of going under. Worrying about possible interference from a warship, I turned my stern to the target, and fine tuned the torpedo solution to slam into the weakened area of her hull, just at the waterline. A risky maneuver given the sea state and the notorious impact triggers, but I was determined to not expend any more shots against the swine. With a tremendous explosion the ship went down, but the price had been high. Four torpedoes for a medium sized merchant. This left me with a total of four torpedoes, and I had not even arrived on station in the patrol zone. I mulled this over and elected to go after the second target we had plotted. A short sprint later brought us up behind another C2. The crew, aware of my distaste for the C2 class, have taken to calling them Elephant Ships. Making my way forward to the bow torpedo room, I encountered Tug-Boat Charlie (Gotz Kals, my gunner) sitting morosely on his bunk. I queried his depressed state and he informed me that he was totally bored! We had taken down 4 ships, were plotting to destroy our fifth and he had yet to fire a single shell. I admit, I had a good chuckle at that, then sent him above to relieve the duty officer and watch the kill. Our final two forward torpedoes left their tubes from directly astern the target, 15 seconds apart. The first torpedo, set to 8 meters detonated beneath the screws, slowing the target substantially. The second torpedo, set to 10 meters passed further up the axis of the ship before detonating directly amidships beneath her! She cracked open like an egg. A beautiful, cursed little egg.

Our forward supply of torpedoes depleted, and only two stern shots remaining, I elected to enter the patrol zone, in the hope we could deal with any problems with the two torpedoes, and weather permitting, my d/g. Sadly, we encountered no contacts for the duration of our patrol, and our return home was equally uneventful.

About 100 km from home port, Fritz my Chief Engineer, informed me that our diesel reserves were down to 10%. I queried my Nav Officer, and he assured me we had a full 230 km of travel available. Thus, I left my engine running at ahead standard. Not 50 km from port, we ran out of fuel! I was furious with my Navigation officer, but the fault lies squarely with me. I should have been more cautious and ordered a reduction in speed. Nevertheless, I submerged the boat and crept into harbor on batteries at Ahead Slow. It was decidedly embarrassing.

Back in port, I was like a Seaman after my first cruise. Without pause I picked up my telephone and called the base hospital. There I spoke to the woman who had kept me smiling throughout the cruise. That evening I stopped by the hospital, and made a display to the various personnel there on how to kiss a beautiful woman! She blushed bright pink as I held her in my arms while several of the other nurses applauded and giggled. Walking out of the hospital arm in arm, with her holding onto me like she’d never let go, I felt a sense of rightness about the world, and my place in it. Several of the crew, leaving base for a night on the town whistled and cheered loudly when they saw their commanding officer walking arm in arm with his lady. Several had remarked during the patrol that I was a lot less frustrated and…well…mean.

Suzanne and I spent the evening in a small coffee shop, catching up with two weeks of history. The next morning, I was summoned to the Commander’s office and given the date of our awards ceremony. As we’d had a lack luster patrol, I was loathe to award any medals, but I did think that two of our seamen had worked well at keeping my torpedoes in prime condition. Therefore, I had them both promoted. I invited Suzanne to the ceremony as well, as most of the married or involved officers usually do. I called the promotions out and presented the men with there patches, and dismissed them. The commanding officer then called me to the front. I couldn’t believe my ears when he presented me with my promotion to Senior Lieutenant!
Until we receive our new orders, I shall oversee the refit of the boat. I’m also planning to spend more time with this amazing woman. Fritz is worried and keeps cocking his head and saying, “Hear those bells, Herr Kaleun?”
I still must have that man shot.

More news in the next entry!

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 19 February ’40 – 28 February ‘40

Unbelievable!
Ordered to patrol deep water west of Spain, we transited the Straits of Dover again, and had not a single encounter! Regular excursions to periscope depth, full stops and baffle clearings had no effect, we couldn’t locate a single target in the entire patrol.
The crew are badly demoralized having returned home with a full load of fish, but the commanding officer of the base awarded me my Knights Cross for exceptional performance throughout the course of the war. Somehow, it feels like I should have earned this burning 20 ships to the waterline. But sadly, not so much as a fishing vessel crossed our bows this time. I hope this is a sign that the British navy and merchant marine are beginning to take the threat from the Kriegsmarine seriously!

Suzanne and I spent some more time together, but I admit, I was distracted by the recent events on patrol. This lead to a minor argument, culminating in her telling me that I can’t burn every ship in the enemy’s navy down. My hot headed response was that I would damn well like to.
After we calmed down again, we apologized to each other, and while she does understand my consternation, she just wanted to be more important to me. I understand that, and I am yet to figure out the precise words to tell her how she has become my very reason for returning to port. And smiling. And breathing. Somehow, I can’t get the words out when we are together. But every chance I get to spend with her I grab. She’s often busy at the hospital, and I at the docks, but we steal any moment available. The day of her birthday, 16 March, I wandered into a small store selling odds and ends, like old books and a few records for what little coin is still available, and food tickets. I spotted a record of popular Viennese waltzes, and I immediately bought it. Wrapping it in a simple brown paper, I handed it to her when next I saw her. She loved it, being a huge fan of the modern waltzes. She dragged me into her small little apartment near the hospital and proudly showed off her whole collection of records and her very modern gramophone. I knew she was an avid fan of music, but I never realized how much so! She played the record over and over again all night, and insisted that we dance to it every time! As the night got darker, we stopped moving to the music and merely stood in her living room holding onto each other swaying gently. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that night.

Subsequently I’ve ordered Fritz to locate waltzes for the boats gramophone. Before the end of this war, I’ll have the fiercest most refined warriors in the Reich!

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 27 March ’40 – 3 April ‘40

This one a hairy patrol!
From the moment I left Suzanne’s arms that morning of our departure, I couldn’t shake an ominous feeling. Fritz too seemed on edge as we put to sail.
Assigned to the ‘soft’ east coast of the British Isles, my crew and I left port expectant of a large tonnage on our return. What we got, was a rude awakening

Near the Norwegian coast, we encountered a coastal merchant, and for want of better option, we decided to practice on her. Following my two shot policy, the first torpedo missed, but the second slammed into her amidships from 1500m. A shot that did us proud, and gave us the boost we’d been looking for. Ominous thoughts were lost in the exultation of the kill.

Arriving on station, we patrolled for 24 hours, but all the contact information radioed to us indicated the shipping lanes were in the quadrant adjacent to ours. Having finished our assigned patrol, I elected to enter the next quadrant, far closer to the coastline. This proved a wise decision, but very nearly our undoing.
My Watch Officer sighted a large cargo ship, and I ordered an intercept. The settings were perfect for the crew of U-49 to do their jobs. An excursion to periscope depth that evening had yielded no contacts, on the surface the night was illuminated by a half moon, with the waters as calm as a piece of glass. Maneuvering out of sight, I brought the ship on a 90° angle portside to the target, descended to periscope depth and came to a full stop, 800 m from the projected track of the target. The perfect ambush was ready. The crew diligently performed their functions, and the torpedo room was alive with activity. Having my watch officer qualified as a torpedo man was a wise move on my part. Reckhoff the senior machinist was at his post, and reported we had full power on our batteries. 15 minutes of waiting had the cargo ship appear, and soon she was near enough to identify as a C3 cargo. We began plotting our solution. I ordered the torpedo tubes opened and readied, solidified our solution and fired. First one torpedo, aimed just behind the stack, in the hopes of shutting down her engine. Our first indication something was wrong was when the torpedo, set to magnetically trigger, failed to detonate. Unphased, we updated the solution, and launched a second torpedo, set to impact trigger, quite shallow in the water as to avoid the curved hull and rudder mechanism. This torpedo inexplicably overshot the target. The Weapons officer was beginning to sweat bullets, but I had watched and overseen his ever calculation, I had plotted the same solution as he, and I couldn’t understand the situation either. Setting him at ease with a hand on his shoulder, I quietly ordered a salvo prepared and fired. Almost immediately two torpedoes left their tubes. One missed, shooting after of the target, the second, also a magnetic trigger set halfway between the waterline and the hull slammed into the target. But did not detonate. Until now, the target had been unaware of us, but the impact from the torpedo threw her into action. Immediately I ordered a surface excursion and had the d/g manned. Three shots where fired off, all three directly into the engine area, at the water line and my watch officer screamed, “Warship!”
Dead behind us we saw the silhouette of a destroyer making for us. Somehow it had avoided notice, and it was too lat to do anything about it. In a desperate bid to save the ship, I ordered flank speed and a crash dive, but getting the men off the deck took precious seconds we didn’t have. As the last man slammed the hatch and secured it, we began our descent. Not 5 meters down we were thrown across the submarine as he destroyer rammed into our conning tower, the only part of the ship still above the waterline. Instantly the conning tower and bridge were destroyed, and to make matters worse, the damned destroyer tore open her hull and began sinking on top of us! A hard turn port managed to get us clear, but we weren’t clear of trouble yet. Settling back to Ahead slow and checking our dive at 20 meters I assessed the damage and centered the rudder. Our periscope was gone, and no doubt, so was our conning tower. Then my sonar man announced he had picked up a warship. Seconds later we heard depth charges being dropped, but checking our flank run to ahead slow had put us behind the position the charges fell. A moment of grace as we had no chance of surviving a barrage in the state we were in. Tracking the C3 as she made her escape, we were dogged by the warship above us. Somehow, she managed to circle us, regardless of our direction of travel, but no more charges were dropped. After 15 minutes of this game of cat and mouse, I realized why we were being held down:
1) To allow the C3 to escape
2) To mark our position, until something capable of sinking us arrived on station.

With no way to tell what we were up against, I took a gamble. Ordering Kals and his crew to their hatch, I surfaced the boat, simultaneously calling for flank speed and a hard starboard turn. The maneuver worked, and Kals scrambled up the hatch and led his crew to the deck. Our conning tower was so mangled that I couldn’t get the Watch Officer aloft to call bearings. I ordered him to the bow torpedo room, as a final gesture if the d/g gamble failed. Scrambling up the d/g hatch, I stood behind the gun as I watched Kals work. Slewing the gun almost 160° around He located the target. By some miracle, we were under attack from an armed trawler. No doubt the crew hadn’t been expecting such a brash move, as we squeezed off two shots straight into them at close range before they could answer with an errant return salvo. The inexperience of the attacking crew made our jobs easier. In the dark night, with no way of scanning the area for our target, we were essentially blind, except for the blessed spotlight. I later remarked to Fritz that I had never been so glad to see and enemy searchlight. Kals centered the gun on the ship and looked back at me, “Your orders Kaleun?” he asked, a feverish light in his eyes. My voice as steady as I could make it, I gave the command,
“Sink her Kals. Aim straight at that damned light!”
“Jawohl Kaleun!” He screamed as the roar of the gods sent a shell directly into the command deck. Without checking our mad dashing turn, we pumped 7 shells into the target before she exploded and began burning.
The immediate threat gone, I was seized by a cold fury. That C3 had almost killed us, and she was escaping with little more than a scratch. I descended the hatch and moved to the conn, where I studied the projected plot. Still at flank speed I brought the boat around on an intercept track with the C3. If it was the last thing we’d do, we’d finish that pig. Fritz looked over at me and nodded as I gave the command. The Navigation officer, pale and sweaty licked his lips nervously. Damned cowardly swine. He flickered a gaze at the Weapon’s officer, then nervously cleared his throat and said, “Herr Kaleun, our boat is damaged. Badly! We should return to port!” Silence fell on the command bridge as I turned to face the little man. Without warning I threw a punch into his face that slammed him against the bulkhead. Before he could stagger to his feet Fritz grabbed him and held him up against the bulkhead. Leaning in close I sniffed once and smelt the stench of fear on the pathetic swine.
“When you are ready to fight like a German, you’ll return to your post. Until then you pathetic little man, you shall assist the torpedo crews in the bow.” I summoned Carlewitz my watch officer to the conn and had him escort the Nav officer to the bow torpedo section. Then Carlewitz manned the navigation station. Not five minutes later I heard a shout from the d/g. Popping my head up through the hatch, Kals pointed off our bow, and there she was, steaming for all she was worth. With a nod at Kals, I ascended the ladder as the first shell roared across the ocean and into the hull of the ship. Bringing the sub alongside her at about 1500m, I watched as Kals pumped 6 shells into the engine room at the waterline. With a display worthy of our efforts, the C3 exploded and began to sink.

Returning to the conn I took the report from the damage assessment crew. Our hull was in bad shape, and it was risky to dive so much as to periscope depth. With that, I ordered a return to base. Running at flank speed to get as much distance between us and this damned coast as possible while we still had night.

Then I walked across to my bunk, and ordered the radio and sonar man to quarters for a short rest. Closing the interconnecting doors, I sat on my bunk and began shaking. I had almost killed us. The Nav officer had been right. One shell, one more encounter like the initial one this evening, one plane, one shot could have sent us to the bottom.

About an hour later, I summoned the Navigation officer to my bunk area. His nose swollen and red, he saluted me, much to my surprise. He then broke down and began sobbing. I stood and put a hand on his shoulder as he sobbed. Then he looked at me and began sniffling an apology. Surprised, I accepted it, I had been planning to apologize to him. I allowed him to sit at the sonar station, and he began telling me how scared he had been. How much he had wanted to scream with fear. He spoke of his shame. His terror. Finally I said to him, “I was scared too Udo. But we can’t let that stop us from our mission. I need my officers up there. I can’t do it without all of you.” He nodded, and stood. Walked out and resumed his post. He didn’t say much for the rest of the cruise home, but his back was straighter, and his manner more determined. I think we’ll make a warrior of him too.

Later, after we had moored at the dock, Fritz and I were discussing the incident in my office. I hadn’t realized it, but the crew had treated Udo like a pariah. The seaman wouldn’t even acknowledge his orders in the torpedo room. Apparently, by going up on deck to take on the trawler with Kals, I had earned their respect. They had been ready to strap Udo to a torpedo had he so much as griped once.

My phone rang and I took the report from the damage assessment crew that had examined the boat when I docked. Apparently our hull was more than 70% compromised. How we survived is nothing short of miraculous. As I put the phone down and was about to inform Fritz, my door slammed open and Suzanne stood there. Her hair was disheveled, and her face was tear streaked. My secretary was trying to restrain her, but she bullied her way into the office and stood before me sniffling. I stood and walked over to her, and noticed Fritz and the secretary quietly leaving. As the door clicked shut, Suzanne threw her arms around me and sobbed into my chest. After a while she calmed down and looked up at me. She told me that the base was alive with rumors. The ‘untouchable’ U-49 had limped into harbor full of holes. Stories flew between the entire crew being dead, and the Kapt being blown apart in an attack.
“Why didn’t you call me and let me know you were safe you evil, nasty, terrible swine!” She demanded, beating her tiny fists against my chest with each word as the tears came again. I held her close and let the tears dry on her face. And mine. Finally we walked of the office, and sat in her apartment, holding hands and talking for hours.

The repair party have informed me that I’ll be in port for some time. I’ve requested a few weeks leave of absence to take Suzanne to meet my family in their country home. Permission was granted with a nod and a smile. As I was leaving, the commander slid a case across his desk at me. Opening it, was the Knights Cross with Oak Leaves.
“Now go Lieutenant. Go to your family. And welcome to the war.”
“Thank you Commander.”

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Jimbuna]

Nicely written :up:

[Enchanter]

:) Thanks! Glad it's being read!:)

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 12 June ’40 – 19 June ‘40

More than a month has passed since we last put to sea. In days gone by, I would have chafed at this, but now, I have found something to calm my restless spirit.

Suzanne and I spent two weeks in my family’s country retreat. My parents were overjoyed to have their son return home, after an absence of more than two years. My father, now a retired party official beamed with pride as I helped Suzanne alight from the staff car provided for us. Suzanne was awestruck by the size of the estate, and the warmth my family received her with. Hardly had she set foot into the house than my mother whisked her off to the sitting room, leaving my father and I to lug the baggage up the stairs. Having warned my parents to expect company, I was unsurprised to find fresh flowers from our gardens in the guest quarters. My room is still unchanged. My parents had kept everything precisely as I had left it.

Setting down my duffel bag I looked through the picture windows in my room and marveled at the sight, once so familiar and boring. After months at sea with nothing but the blue sky and slate water, the sights of the garden and fields filled me with wonder. My father, puffing his pipe as ever stood at my door and allowed me the moment, then we were walking to the barn, examining the old horses and talking about the war. By dinner, I was reunited with Suzanne, who exclaimed over my mothers cooking and laughed merrily at my fathers jokes. She was an instant and true success! By the end of the first week she referred to Ma and Pa, and fixed some of her own meals in the family kitchen. I was surprised by her cooking skill. She almost rivals my mother!

Family picnics, nights out at the local pool room, horse riding. It was easy to forget the war. But soon came the time to depart. Too soon. My mother hugged me long and hard, and Suzanne longer and harder, my dad was stoic, never for an instant revealing the depth of his worry and anguish until the moment he shook my hand and a single tear left his eye. Suzanne was exhorted to keep me in line and have me writing home to my dear old parents. The drive back to base twittered with her joy at meeting my family, and the amazing time she had had.

Reporting back at base, I was pleasantly surprised to find my boat ready, a new Conning tower and Flak Gun installed, the hull repaired, and most surprising of all, my Navigation Officer supervising the repairs. With a crisp salute he reported on the work done. I acknowledged the report, gave him my thanks and returned to my office. Fritz was seated behind my desk.
“Fritz, the Kaleun’s seat almost suits you.” I laughed. Rising and shaking my hand warmly, he responded,
“Please don’t say that Kaleun!”
His report indicated the level of effort the crew, refusing to abandon their boat to the dock crews, had put in. Machinist Mate Reckhoff who’d so skillfully mastered the batteries had personally overseen the installation of our engine upgrade. I was so touched by the spirit de corps of my crew that I immediately recommended Reckhoff for promotion to Sub Lieutenant. I took great pleasure in handing him his promotion papers, and in thanks, he invited Suzanne and I to dinner with his family. I accepted, and that evening, Suzanne and I met Reckhoff’s wife (which I had no idea he had) and three children (all of whom were darling little girls). Suzanne was an instant hit with the children, they clung to her all night, and giggled whenever she put her hand in mine or smiled at me. The youngest, a little dear named Marisa asked her, “Are you an angel? Do you look after my dad when he’s working?” Her eyes shining, Suzanne replied, “You do that my darling, when you think of him with happy thoughts!”
Reckhoff was a totally different man around his family. Usually withdrawn and taciturn, he was ebullient and joyful in the midst of his family. Never had I been more happy to promote a man. He will serve aboard the submarine better than any other, in my opinion.

Finally our orders came. The crew and I boarded the boat with none of our previous bonhomie, but we went aboard knowing what job we had to do. Suzanne, like most of the other officers partners came to see us off. She slipped a little note into my tunic, and told me to read it when I had cleared the peninsula. She made Fritz promise to watch me, and demanded that I return home to her. Then, in front of the entire crew, this beautiful angel kissed me, eliciting cheers and whistles from my seamen.

Making our way from the sub pens, rounding the peninsula 24 hours later, I opened the letter. It was a simple note. The words, etched forever in my mind simply said,
“I love you.”
Never before had we spoken those words, and here, now, amidst the trappings of war, I discovered this beautiful gift. Grinning like a clown, I ordered the watch to their posts, and the war began for us again. Ordered to almost the same grid, we entered the patrol zone and within 10 hours had intercepted a C2 Cargo ship. Due to the fine weather, I ordered Kals aloft to shoot the ship down from 5000 meters. The display of gunnery raised the morale of the ship, and 15 hours later we had left our original patrol zone and moved closer to the English coast. Immediately we happened across another lone C2 and, previous superstitions of the ship were dispelled when at periscope depth, from a range of 600 meters, two torpedoes ripped apart her hull and sank her. Confident in our large surplus of hardware, we next engaged a small merchant. The inclement weather favored us, with medium sized swells, but we approached from a poor position, the rising sun behind the target boat. Unable to man the d/g due to excessive wind, I expended my full load of torpedoes before scoring a hit. Our task was made difficult by the fact that the ship had sighted us, and that they could watch our torpedoes bubble trail. I admit, the crew and I were impressed with the skill which the merchant evaded our torpedoes, but finally, our last shot slammed home, and the game was done. Sailing 200 m from the burning hulk, we spotted who could on be the captain standing on the bow of his burning ship, while the other men abandoned her. Moved by this mans courage and sense of honour, I ordered the men to raise our ships flag half mast, and salute the ship as we passed. Foe he may have been, but he had died with great honour.

Orders from BDu turned us for home, but I think this quiet patrol bolstered the men once more. More than before, I think they are ready for this war. Now comes a time of new learning for us. I have directed Fritz and the other officers that we must begin making our attacks from further away, both to minimize the chance of being spotted, and to expedite our kill time. At present, our close range shots always land us in hot water. I intend to begin this practice in our next patrol, firing from greater distances, and perfecting the salvo firing techniques, prior to our next convoy engagement, which, I have no doubt, will come soon. I have instructed my Weapons Officer to investigate taking on board a larger number of electric torpedoes in our next refit.
Back in port, I recommended one of our chief seaman for promotion, filling the gap left in the NCOs ranks when Reckhoff had been promoted. I found our fame had spread and we had a veritable queue of young seaman eager to come onboard what they say is the most famous U-Boat in 7th Flotilla.

Orders had been received to rig the base for removal to the western coast of France. Within the month we would transfer 7th Flotilla to St. Nazaire. I was shocked by the news. That afternoon I entered the base hospital and located Suzanne. She was standing over the bed of a young child, playing a rhyming game. She saw me and squealed with delight, throwing her arms around me. I smiled back, but my heart was heavy, with orders now to leave the woman I had come to love. The young boy stared at my uniform, and Suzanne pulled me closer. He had recently had his appendix removed. His name was Karl. He wanted to drive U-Boats one day. He smiled shyly at me and asked me if I was a torpedo man. With a chuckle I told him my rank and berth. His eyes shot open in wonder and he spent 30 minutes interrogating me about my boat, probably more thoroughly than any POW camp could manage! Finally Suzanne excused us, and we walked out of the hospital arm in arm.
”Karl will be over the moon for weeks,” She smiled, “You’re his biggest hero. He’s always talking about the famous Kaleun Linden and his magic boat! He wants to serve aboard your boat when he turns eighteen!” She smiled. “Thank you for making his day.”
“Hopefully by the time he’s eighteen, this damned war is over.” I said.
With a heavy heart I told her of the orders to change operational bases. She took the news calmly and smiled up at me.
“Did you open your letter when you promised?” She asked, a tiny smile on her rosebud lips.
Surprised by the calm manner she was accepting our parting, I stammered an affirmative reply.
“Well then you great lug head, you’ll know I love you.” She continued, in a voice as sweet as honey.
“Yes…”My slightly confused reply. Then, registering what was expected of me, I added, “and I love you too, Nurse Wikus.”
Her smile illuminated her face, “Head Nurse Wikus.”
“Pardon?” Confusion.
“Head Nurse Suzanne Wikus, newly appointed to the St. Nazaire medical hospital.”
Words failed me then.
“You didn’t think I’d let you hare off to another port, with other women now did you? You great lummox.” She laughed gaily. I stood slightly stunned, until finally I regained my powers of speech. It turns out that Suzanne had also heard of the change of operational base, long before I did of course. She had requested to be transferred there, and her Chief of Staff had approved her promotion. I was overwhelmed. Celebrations were in order, and in short order we were in the Officers Nightclub, I found most of the other ships officers there, and a large scale party ensued. Ending only the next morning, with a large…very large…headache!

[Kumando]

Nice, do you have more? From where did you took this?

[Enchanter]

Thanks :) I write up the personal diary after each patrol for my career. :D

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 17 July ’40 – 4 August ‘04

I write this entry with a heavy heart. This is the first patrol in which I lost a man to an enemy attack.

Ordered to patrol off the western coast of England, the crew and I slipped out of harbor. I stood on the bow and waved to Suzanne as I left the port, our final goodbye had been tender, as I’ll not see her again until we are re-united in our new base. She clutched the case containing my Knights Cross with Oak Leaves and Swords, and my German Cross in Gold to her breast as she waved farewell. The commander of the Flotilla had presented me with the decorations before I had boarded. It was expected that we would receive fresh orders while out at sea to dock in our new port.

Exiting the peninsula, we began our transition past the Scapa Flow harbor, and there encountered our first target. A Coastal Vessel, wallowing in heavy swells. With the experience we had gained, we soon had a solution prepared and a torpedo put the ship at the bottom of the roiling sea. Entering our patrol zone we intercepted another coastal merchant, and sunk her with a single torpedo. Due to the poor weather, we had decided on a standard attack range of 800m.
We happened along a small merchant ship, and our first torpedo missed, overshooting the target. We had remained surfaced, and I was surprised when I heard the report of incoming fire. I hastened to the tower and did a scan, and to my sickened surprise we spotted a V&W destroyer making for us. Her searchlights illuminated her, but fortunately, not us. I submerged the ship, raised the periscope and looked on in muted disbelief as the destroyer inexplicably made her way towards us, dead astern. Not wasting the moment, I readied a stern torpedo and loosed. 16 seconds later the hapless ship was struck, and immediately lost all headway. Turning my attention back to the merchant we tacked alongside her and released another torpedo. Our second failed to detonate. Frustrated, I fired off a third shot on dead reckoning, a foolhardy and petulant thing to do. Needless to say, we missed that shot too! Finally, I got control of myself and repositioned for the shot. Close in, with visibility at about 300m, I released a torpedo from astern and sunk the ship. Still submerged, my sonar man called out that he had a contact. The war ship was dead in the water. Too good an opportunity to miss, I elected to spend one of my dwindling number of torpedoes against him. Three torpedoes left and I settled the boat into a perfect 90° port side lay up. I elected to set the torpedo for an impact trigger, and loosed. The torpedo passed directly under the boat! Shocked I re-checked my settings. In my haste, I had set the trigger to magnetic! It had passed under the ship with no effect. Annoyed with myself, I resolved the solution and launched another torpedo, set at 4m depth and impact triggered. It too passed under the ship. Totally perplexed, I decided to actually READ my identification manual. I was livid with myself when I read, ‘Draft: 3.8 m’.
Setting my final torpedo to impact trigger at 1 m depth, not willing to take any chances, I fired and was rewarded with a destroyed destroyer. That little phrase was giggled around the boat. Out of torpedoes now, I surfaced, and in terrible weather made back for base. Then I realized, I had no idea which base I was going to! A check with BDu had us on route to Kiel, but before we left our assigned zone a miraculous weather break occurred, almost instantaneously, the sky went from over cast to clear, the winds dropped to a whisper. Almost as suddenly, I picked up a cargo ship steaming towards us. With a grin at my officers, I ordered the d/g manned and went duck hunting. The target was far off on the horizon when I gave Kals permission to fire, and I had difficulty making the ship. Nevertheless as we closed we identified a C3 Cargo ship. As we were pumping shells into the ship, a plane buzzed us. I ordered my flak gunner to his station and he began shooting. The lone plane didn’t particularly worry us. Seaman Brents for some reason leaned over the side of the conning tower to get a better view of the plane as it began its attack run. I watched him lean over and point, and even as the thought formed in my mind to order him back to his post, the bomb struck. A jarring shockwave sent us all sprawling, and with a scream Seaman Brent fell from the con. I screamed for the engines to come to the stops, and for a port side turn to clear the screws from the side Brents had fallen, but the bomb had disorientated us all. Suddenly the sea turned crimson. Brents had gone through our screws. Sickened to my stomach I called man overboard, and we maneuvered the boat to retrieve the lifeless floating corpse. All the while, Kals gunning of the ship provided a macabre drum beat, measuring the guilt that washed over us.
Seaman Brents was 20 years old. This would have been his first war cruise. As I looked across at the C3, she burst into flame, and my watchman spotted another small merchant heading towards us. Not missing a beat, Kals fired and sank that ship too.
We used the remainder of the days weather to hunt for more targets, a mute melancholy aboard the boat, but found nothing to attack. As suddenly as the weather break had occurred, it was gone, and we plunged back into the howling maelstrom of rain and wind. Ordering the boat back to base, we returned to port. On sailing in, I ordered the ship’s flag to half mast, and hung a black cloth over the combing. Disembarking from the ship, we filed our reports, and then I picked up the telephone and called Personnel Records. I located the address of Seaman Brents next of kin, and ordered a staff car. Walking up the pathway to the neat little whitewashed cottage I heard a woman begin to wail. Before I could knock, the door opened and an old man stood before me. His eyes shone with tears, and I drew myself up and saluted in the correct manner.
“Mien Herr, my name is Lieutenant Senior Gerhard Linden, Kaptain of U-Boot 49.”
“I know who you are Kaleun. My son. He is dead isn’t he?” The voice was steady, cold.
“Yes sir. He died in action defending the ship. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
The man appraised me for what seemed an age. Then he spoke again.
“You can keep your sympathy. And your salutes. You have taken my only son from me. Get your filthy fascist disgraceful self off my land you swine!” His voice rose to a scream, the hysteria getting control of him.
Slowly I turned away and walked back to the car. As it drove away I stared out the window and whispered to myself, “Damn this war. Damn it all to hell.”

As Brents commanding officer I presided over his burial. It was a short, solemn affair. The entire crew turned out and stood in the derelict cemetery where his remains had been placed by his family. His mother, pale and sobbing couldn’t speak with grief. His father spoke of his joy at being able to serve the Fatherland. Suzanne had not yet left for St. Nazaire, and she sat and listened to the eulogy quietly, her hand in mine. Then I had to speak. I had thought about it hard.
“Brents’ died living his dream. We should all be so fortunate. This war cares not who you are or how old you may be. She takes lives to feed her incessant hunger without discrimination. Remember this when you remember Hans Brents. Remember that he died living his life, unafraid, painlessly. He regretted nothing. Rest in peace Hans. Forgive your shipmates their failure to protect you.”
I returned to my seat, and Suzanne’s hand rested upon my shoulder.
After the crowd began walking away, I sat and watched the grave diggers fill the hole they had dug. Brents’ father came and stood before me.
“You were right Kaleun,” he said slowly. “Hans wouldn’t have gone any other way. My wife is at peace now. Thank you for your words. And please forgive mine.”
I looked up at him for a while. Then nodded. He walked away, and I continued to stare off into the spot he had vacated. Suzanne sat beside me like that for a long while before I spoke again. “I should have saved him Suzanne.”
“You couldn’t.”
“I could’ve have chosen a more experienced sailor! One who knew better than to stand so precariously on the conn!”
“And he may have died too. You can’t save them all Gerhard.”
“But I’m going to try. So help me Suzanne, I’m going to try.”

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 1 September ’40 – 6 September ‘40

Our orders are in! Transit the English Channel and enter our new home port. Along the way we should seek to interdict merchants ships as usual, and destroyers if possible, to distract them from raiding our surface ships. The day before that however, I was to attend an award ceremony for officers. Several officers in our flotilla were called to the front and presented with various medals and promotions. The Officers all sat on one side of the hall, and the guests on the other. Slowly the number of recipients dwindled, and I began to feel uncomfortable. I hoped I had been invited by mistake, as had happened with one or two officers before.
Then, the commander spoke my name, and I stood and marched to the front. Standing at attention I heard the commander speak my citation.
“For bravery in the face of battle, and superior merit commanding the men of U-Boat 49, the Chancellery of the German Reich bestows the Order of the Knights Cross with Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds upon Senior Lieutenant Gerhard Linden.”
Everything seemed to go hazy and the next thing I knew, the commander was pumping my hand and grinning in my face.
”Well done my boy,” he grinned, and then he hung the coveted medal around my neck. As one the officers side of the hall came to their feet, cheering and clapping. I stood there as, what Fritz would later describe as, ‘a stunned mongoose.’
When the rowdy officers finally quieted, the presentation was dismissed. Suzanne walked up to me and smiled.
“Well done sailor!” She smiled. I smiled back at her and gathered in my arms. Kissing her deeply. After a minute or two we parted the embrace and walked arm in arm down the pathway. I filled with equal parts joy and worry. I would now escort her to the train station where she would make for St. Nazaire. I would not see her again until then. We climbed into the staff car, and made for the train station. Standing on the track, her luggage already loaded, she looked up at me as I turned her towards me. I marveled at the beauty of her. 5’5” of pure wonder. Her hair shone in the sunlight, her lips were a perfect soft red. Her eyes sparkled, and she smelled of flowers. She wore a large peach colored hat, complementing her traveling dress. She met my eyes and I as I drank in the moment of being with her. Then she kissed me lightly and disengaged herself from me.
“It would seem fate for once turns the tables on you Herr Kaleun.” She smiled, “For today it is I who leaves, and you who must watch. It’s a lousy place to be isn’t it?”
The last query was delivered with a prod to my chest. Smoothing the creases of my dress uniform she stood on her tiptoes and delivered another quick kiss.
“See you soon my love.” She whispered.
“Be safe my angel,” I whispered back, and kissed her once more. Then she began walking to the train. I watched the train pull out and turned back to the waiting staff car. Returning to base, I was struck how empty and desolate it was.

After a sleepless night I finally boarded the boat, and the crew made preparations to cast off. Transiting the peninsula for what we hoped would be the last time. We plotted a course for the English channel and set to. Our intelligence had pointed out that the channel was empty. That was hardly the case. Shortly after passing Dover we encountered a V&W Destroyer heading the opposite way. It was pitch back night, and I submerged and prepared a solution. My Weapons Officer had diligently arranged several extra electrical torpedoes for us, and I planned to use them against this formidable target. Selecting my tube, plotting my solution and firing, we waited for the stopwatch to reach the correct mark. Suddenly halfway between the target and ourselves (about 750m) there was a tremendous explosion! I looked at the water and in my confusion, thought the target had fired on us. Then my weapons officer announced in a flat voice, “The weapon has detonated Herr Kaleun.”
Dammit.
Re-enter the new solution, select the second electric loaded, and fire. This time the torpedo hadn’t traveled 10 seconds when it too exploded.
Disgusted with the whole charade I put my stern to the rapidly disappearing ship and went on my way.
Despite naval intelligence informing us the strait was quiet, I was nevertheless best by no less than five warships. They never detected us, but we stalked an armed trawler for a long while before electing to expend a third electrical torpedo. This time the torpedo sailed under the targets keel and swam harmlessly away. I began using some choice words to explain my displeasure. Then we happened upon a few lone costal merchants. In total we sank 5 ships, all costal merchants save two small merchants. Expending all our torpedoes but two, we made for our new base. Our torpedo was has come a long way, and we managed several kills at ranges of 1500m! The crew, and I, have learnt patience and diligence, and our kills are no longer a matter of pride, but a matter of professionalism.

On the 3rd of September, the crew surprised me completely. I was standing on the bridge with the watch when our boat came to a slow stop. Perplexed I called down and demanded speed, but had no answer. Grumbling mightily I descended to the command room and there, Fritz had managed to cram all officers and NCOs into the little room. As I descended the ladder they began singing Happy Birthday (very badly), in English no less! Fritz and Carlewitz had spent painstaking hours teaching our NCOs the confounded song. We had a good laugh at that. Thanking the crew, I then accepted Fritz’s offer to be escorted along the length of the boat, and here each and every seaman stopped his work and greeted me for my birthday. I was quite touched. Essentially, this boat has become one big overextended family. Many of these men have been with me since this war began a year ago. I am proud to serve with them for the Fatherland!

Finally we transited to our new port. I’ll miss the protection of the enclosed pens I imagine, but the living areas are much more spacious. My office is still cramped, but the town of St. Nazaire is beautiful, clean and lively. I look forward to exploring it with Suzanne. Ironically, my transit was faster than hers, and I shall have to wait upon her arrival. In the mean time, Fritz and myself have made every effort to scout the local Officer’s Nightclub wine selection. Some very fine choices of wine are available! Reckhoff informed me today that he has secured a residence in the Married Officers Quarters for himself and his family, but sadly my other officers and NCOs must content themselves with writing love letters home. Poor fools.

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[fabel]

You should bundle it in to a book:ping:

[danurve]

Fine read, and a talent to do so I wish I had.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 4 October ’40 - 11 October ‘40

Finally we encountered another convoy!
Having being ordered to patrol deep waters SW of the British Coast we established a plot on leaving St. Nazaire. Not halfway there my crew called me to the Conning tower. Ahead of us was a huge convoy making about 10 knots. Quickly I sent off a message to BDu command and plotted a course to take me on intercept. I checked my watch and planned the route to shadow the convoy until nightfall. Twilight came an hour later, but I waited a full two hours more for full dark. Then, on station and waiting, my sonar man informed me he had head the screws of the approaching convoy. As I neared the convoy from about a 45° angle to their port, I saw the ships begin to mill about. The confusion and disorder surprised me, then I realized the reason. The Luftwaffe had come to assist! While confusion rained in the convoy, I slipped amongst the ships and set to work. The first to go down was a troop transport ship, then I had my weapons officer plot a solution one of the two T3 tankers. Quickly she was ablaze, however a chance of misfortune had the escort destroyer spot me. Since I had a perfect shot from astern, I launched, and took out the tribal destroyer. The rest of the escorts descended on me and I ordered a dive to 100 meters. There we snuck over the next two hours as the ash cans dropped nearby. Finally free of the enemy sensors, I surfaced and flanked ahead of the convoy. Quiet as a mouse we snuck back into the convoy 5 hours later and rained more havoc. The last remaining T3 went down to my torpedo, but I was running out. I targeted the three C2 cargo ships but my last four shots saw only one slam home, the other three either missed or failed to detonate! The one hit we scored stopped the C2 dead, and I vacated the area and surfaced, then plotted a circuitous route back to the stricken C2 as I had my final torpedo taken out of the aft reserve. Patiently lining up the shot I fired, but the shot passed under the hull and detonated meters away from the ship. We left the scene unable to use our d/g due to inclement weather.

The rest of the patrol showed no further encounters, and we returned to port. We were greeted as heroes, we had achieved an incredible feat. I immediately recommended my men for awards. I promoted my Weapons officer to Lieutenant Jnr. for his amazing work at the Weapons Station during the convoy run. Kals finally got the First Class Cross he deserved for his assistance in the stern torpedo tubes. I promoted a further two men up the ranks from Seaman for their cool heads during the battle.
Our tonnage score for this mission was phenomenal, and the admiralty is very pleased with us!

I’ve been informed that the new IX boat is available to captains, but only in the 2nd Flotilla at the moment. This had put me in a quandary. I know that I could be approved for transfer and pull some strings for my own IX, but I also know that will hurt my chances of promotion, which can’t be far off now. I had been pondering the wiser move during the patrol, but it strikes me now that my best move would be to wait for my promotion before I think of moving Flotilla’s. A major part of the decision was that Suzanne would not possibly get a transfer so soon after asking for one, and I have no intention of leaving for another base without her.

Rumors from the Commanders office say that I am in line for a Knights Cross with Golden Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds, but I have heard nothing official. I would imagine these rumors are false, as I doubt I have accomplished enough to be awarded one of the twelve citations allowed. Nevertheless it is an exciting time for me.

When I arrived back at base, I phoned the hospital and asked if Suzanne had arrived yet. I received a negative reply. Despondent, and not a little worried, I left the office that afternoon and went back to my quarters. To my surprise, the door was unlocked, and the scent of home cooking wafted across to me as I entered and hailed the room. Candles were burning, a silver dinner service was set and out of the kitchen bustled the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
Suzanne smiled at me and walked over. Her hair was tied up, she was wearing a new dress of blue satin and a dark blue velvet choker with a sapphire set into it around her slender neck.
“Welcome home hero.” She smiled as she delicately wiped her hands on a tea towel. Then all delicateness was abandoned as she raced across the room and jumped into my arms. She kissed me and I kissed her. By the time we were finished her hair was a mess and her makeup all but gone, still she clung to me and held me against her.
Finally she parted with murmurings that dinner would burn and hurried to the kitchen. I followed after her.
“How did you get in here?” I asked, spying a bottle of chilled white wine and pulling it out the ice bucket.
“I became very good friends with your Commander’s wife at your last dinner party.” She smiled. “We women have to stick together you know. She bullied her husband into having the door forgetfully unlocked.”
I chuckled at the improbable image of my Commander, a man more bull than man, being hen pecked by his demure wife.
“I doubt it,” I smiled, “he probably suggested the idea himself!”
“Actually he was scandalized he hadn’t thought of it first!” Was the mirthful reply.
With a ‘pop’ the wine was opened and dinner was served. After weeks at sea with nothing ever fresh and hardly ever cooked, the food was meager, but delicious. Suzanne apologized at every turn that the vegetables weren’t fresh, they were canned, or that the roast was so small. Finally I put my hand on hers and she closed her mouth and looked at me.
“Suzanne. I love what you have done. It’s the most amazing thing in the world. I just want to know why you went to all this trouble.”
She looked at me as if I was bereft of reason.
“For your birthday you silly sub driver. I missed it, and I wanted to make up for it!”
I smiled at her, “Thank you my love, but you didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“Maybe not,” she agreed cheerfully, “but I wanted to!” An evil glint shone in her eye as she cocked her head and continued, “Besides. You’re doing the washing up!”

As the dishes were cleared away, Suzanne grabbed my hands and excitedly told me to follow her. “Where are we going?” I asked, completely confused.
“I’m going to show off my apartment,” she smiled, “and give you the second part of your birthday present.”
We rushed off to her home, not a five minute walk from my quarters. To my dismay, the Head Nurse’s apartment at St. Nazaire was larger than a U-Boot Kaleun’s berth! I pointed this out, with a touch of envy in my voice. Suzanne giggled and replied, “Well silly, that’s because Chief Nurses are usually married with families by the time they get here!” Later, when I told Fritz of this conversation, he clucked his tongue ominously and said, “Well that’s a hint Herr Kaleun!”
Sitting down in the living room, Suzanne rushed around the house, putting on the gramophone, making tea and finally sitting down beside me. In her dress which bared her shoulders, she was the epitome of grace. She carried a small bundle with her and she handed it to me as she sat. “Well, go on! Open it!!” She exhorted, and I opened the brown package. What came next took my breath away. A brand new copy of War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, translated into English! I stared at the book in my hands, aware that it couldn’t be had for love or money in the Reich. I would know. I had desperately tried to obtain a copy. “How?” I stammered, and she laughed gaily.
“My family have had a bookstore for three generations now my love, it was simply a matter of getting my dad to use his contacts!”
“I can’t accept this,” I began knowing full well how much such a book must have cost. Suzanne closed her hands around mine, still holding the book. “You must,” she whispered, “its yours. Open the cover. Go on!”
I opened the cover and on the blank page was a little note written in tiny, flowing script.
‘To my morning star, and my gallant Knight – happy birthday! Love forever, Suzanne.”
I closed the book slowly and stood. Carefully I placed it on the tea table then took Suzanne’s hands in mine and gently pulled her to her feet. I hugged her, and we stood like that for a long time. Finally I said, “Thank you mien liebschun.”

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 8 November ’40 – 21 November ‘40

If our previous patrols were exciting, then words could not describe the frantic pace of our latest patrol. Due to our increased kill ratio, we had been ordered to patrol the Northern coast of England. There it was hoped we could prey on the fat tankers and cargo ships being diverted that direction since the fall of France.

However, 24 Hours out of port, I stumbled across the lead destroyer of a convoy, as yet undetected! I immediately sent word to BDu and dived to periscope depth. It had just turned midnight as I raised my scope and look onto a scene to make any U-boot captains heart swell. Huge merchant ships milled about, organizing themselves into a convoy order. Without hesitation I selected the biggest target first. A T3 tanker. Setting the torpedo to explode beneath her, I loosed and immediately set up targeting the ship alongside her. The troop transport ship soon had her own trouble heading her way as I fired on her too. Seconds later, my first torpedo struck home and the T3 began breaking up from a massive explosion on her storage decks. The troop transport was hit next, and began to wallow, then sink in the calm waters. As I came about for another run, I raised my periscope at precisely the wrong moment. The searchlights of a V&W destroyer swept over us, and began firing with a vengeance. Quickly I submerged the boat, our position and direction of travel no longer a secret, I ordered a depth sounding. I hoped that between the two maneuvers I could convince the attacking ships of my direction of escape. With a sounding of over a 100 meters between myself and the bottom, I ordered the boat to 100 meters. Keeping my speed at Ahead Slow I turned the boat hard to starboard intending to use the merchants as obstacles to the hunt for me.
Suddenly the ocean exploded as depth charges began raining down on us. Fortunately we were saved from major damage by the turning, but I ordered an increase to flank speed as we descended. Between that and the noise our torpedo men made reloading, our position was giving away. The ruse had failed. The enemy began pinging us, they’re determination to destroy us driving us to greater efforts. The torpedo hatch slammed closed and my Watch officer called out that the torpedoes were stowed. I turned to Fritz and ordered ‘Rig ship for silent running.’ Immediately all non essential gear was stowed and all noisy activities ceased. The boat became as quiet as a tomb, the only sounds the groaning of protesting metal as the pressure on our hull increased. My weapons officer whispered in my ear, “Depth charges in the water!”
A few seconds later the water exploded once more, but above us, and too far to the left to be a problem.

Soon another destroyer entered the fray, lending her active sonar to the search, the soon located us once more. I waited for the sounds of the charges falling into the water before I changed course hard starboard and increased to flank. This time the explosions were closer and we took some minor damage. A pipe burst above Fritz’s head showering him with water, but he barely batted an eyelid and ordered the engine back to ahead slow. For 2 hours we tacked away from the battle, occasionally changing direction randomly to prevent any concentrated attack. As the sounds of the destroyers feel further behind us, I looked over my command room. The men were tense, covered in sweat, but in the red light their faces were set with a grim determination. I glanced at the battery and air readouts. Still 75% battery power, and more than 50% air. Forcing a gruff voice that could be heard throughout the command room, I said, “Bah! Not even 25% of our batteries were used! And we have enough air to float the entire English navy! They didn’t even try hunt us!”
A few nods greeted the statement, and the Weapons officer spoke up, “Ja Herr Kaleun. I’ve seen more concentrated searches for fish!” A chuckle followed the statement as the crew vented their tension.
“Come to periscope depth, raise the periscope and increase speed to Ahead full. Secure from silent running.”
I closed my eyes as the ship began her ascent and took a deep breath of the fetid air. At periscope depth a few minutes later, I did a sweep before allowing the ship to surface. There we began recharging our batteries and I plotted a route to intercept and engage the convoy again. Then I walked onto the bridge and stared at the horizon. I turned to stare SW and wondered what Suzanne was doing. Probably sleeping. And here I was on a big iron coffin shooting things at people equally determined to kill me. With a sigh, I returned to my bunk and opened the book I had brought with me. I began reading, but 3 hours later Fritz roused me, I looked up, the book on my chest and blinked.
We’ve reached the intercept point Kaleun,” Fritz informed me, “and our look outs have spotted the lead escorts. I’ve ordered us to periscope depth.”
I returned to the command deck and brought the boat to Ahead Slow. We crept past the hull of the enemy escort and after a few minutes I raised my periscope. I cursed silently as I watched the sun began her ascent. Walking to the map I estimated the convoys course and speed. We’d never get another night attack before the ship came into the more fiercely guarded English territorial waters. I didn’t relish a dawn attack, but I preferred one with three escorts to any other with more escorts and the potential to summon air support.

We began our attack run, three torpedoes leaving on their mission of death. The first detonated beneath the target T3, the other two impacted on their C2 targets, but neither sunk. I launched my fourth tube at the T3, this time the detonation, about 500 m off our bow was heard throughout the ship. Suddenly small caliber fire began striking around our periscope! We’d been spotted in the rising dawn. Quickly I lowered the scope and a shell crashed into the water and detonated against the watch tower. The boat rocked and we executed a fast dive, turning a reciprocal heading to the one we’d been spotted on. Rigging the ship for silent again, we began our exit. I checked our stores. Two torpedoes left, having expended some of our aft torpedoes during the dive in an attempt to score some kills. I evaluated the situation. I knew that our patrol zone was still to be reached, and elected to have some live torpedoes for the encounters up north. We slipped away from the convoy, but we felt we had done sufficient damage. Her two capital merchants and a vital troop transport were no more. Tanks, Fritz mused later, were far inferior to German infantry when there were no Limeys to drive them.

Leaving the scene of the battle we began our trek towards the patrol zone. In the clear weather we spotted a C3 cargo ship at long range, and electing to save my torpedoes I had Kals open fire. After about 12 direct hits the C3 exploded. And hour later we engaged a Coastal Merchant in the same manner. Pleased with the opportunity to add tonnage to our logs without the expense of torpedoes, the morale on the boat soared. Once again, U-49 was becoming the terror of the seas.

2 days after the first convoy attack, we were passing the Northern coast of Ireland when we happened across a second convoy! Dusk was falling and the weather was turning horrid, rain driving over the deck and limiting visibility. I made a bold decision. Keeping the watch at their stations, I infiltrated the convoy. Surfaced. Soon the looming hulk of the sole T3 tanker came into view and we fired off our final bow torpedo. With a deafening roar the ship lit up like a beacon in the dark night, and we quickly submerged and hustled out of sight. The escorts couldn’t even begin to search for us, and soon we had surfaced and brought our last aft torpedo out of her deck storage. It was early morning, and the weather had abated sufficiently for us to run through the convoy submerged this time. Patiently we cut through the convoy, searching for our final victim, and found her, a straggling C2 with the British flag. I briefly toyed with the idea of sinking the T3 under the American flag, but elected not to. As she passed by us, I began setting up the shot for the C2. 2 minutes later, the torpedo left her tube and slammed into the target. Another glorious explosion. The crew couldn’t contain themselves. A ‘Hurrah!” of joy was raised as I brought the periscope down. Grinning at Fritz I ordered a dive to 50 feet to avoid any nasty surprises, then we turned back to our plot for the patrol zone.
Although I had no torpedoes left, I hoped to happen along a ship in good weather. Alas, although we encountered 2 small merchants, the weather precluded any gunnery. Turning for home we were shocked when we heard the sounds of another convoy on our sensors!
Just to make him nervous, I asked for weather conditions above deck from the Nav Officer. He grinned at me and reported the wind speed in excess of 16 m/s.
Then he surprised me and asked if he should order Kals to the deck. I played with the idea, but finally decided that the wind and waves were beyond reasonable safety limits, and that I would be foolish to end such a glorious patrol with a surfaced gunnery attack on a guarded convoy. So we did the next best thing and shadowed the convoy for a while, reporting it to BDu. Then we returned home. At 25 km from port I radioed St. Nazaire and informed them of our approach. I glanced at my clock. 5 o’clock in the evening. Suzanne would be getting off work now. I went to the bridge and faced the howling elements at their most furious as we docked. The band had set up under a shelter, but there was no one on the pier to greet us. Except one lonely figure, clutching a shawl as the wind and rain buffeted her. Her free hand waved frantically at me and with my binoculars I could see the smile on her rain soaked face.

Never had it taken so long to lower the gangway and secure the ship to the pier. I rushed across the gangplank and lifted Suzanne into the air. Setting her down I kissed her, speaking of my love for her without words. Finally we parted and she swayed giddily with joy.
“I was told you’d be docking!” She shouted over the wind, “I thought I’d come say hello!”
In my arms I felt her shiver, and noticed her lips were blue with cold. I swept off my raincoat and wrapped it around her as I told her how much of a mad banshee she was to be out in this weather. With a smile she kissed me once more and told me to come visit her when I was done at the base. I agreed and she made off into the rain for home. With my raincoat. Which I only realized when she disappeared from view.

The patrol report was quickly sent off to the commanders office, and I made for Suzanne’s apartment. There the smell of coffee filled the air and she emerged from the bathroom as I knocked on the open door, toweling her wet hair. Her long auburn hair fell to her shoulders, in complete disarray from the vigorous drying.
“Never have I seen such a vision of beauty,” I said as I walked towards her.
“That’s because you’ve been cooped up in a smelly boat for weeks!” She laughed as she threw the towel at me. “For a wonder, we have hot water, and your bath is drawn. Now go. And shave! I think you gave me beard burn!” Perplexed, I entered the bathroom and noted the full, steaming bath, with a pair of my casual pants and a shirt folded on the dresser. My spare shaving kit was sitting by the washstand.
“You’ve been visiting while I was gone.” I called from the bathroom. My only answer was a mirthful chuckle. Ten minutes later I was sinking into the glorious water. A while later I emerged, feeling a new man. “Goodness, by time you showed up sailor. I had begun to think you may have sunk!”
“You should have sent a search party then!” I laughed, and she looked up at me. “Don’t think I didn’t consider it!” she said, “But then I couldn’t get hold of Fritz to lead the search!”
The image of Fritz waltzing into the room with me in the bath wiped the grin off my face. Another chuckle followed and I was pulled to the chair and given a kiss.
“Now tell me everything,” I was commanded as coffee was poured and served.

The next morning I reported to the commander of 7th Flotilla and gave my report. By the end of the day I had completed my paperwork for the recommendations. A few days later we held the awards ceremony for U-49’s crew once more. In the cheery sunlight morning, with my men dressed in their parade best, and the guests in the latest fashions from Paris, I called forward the men, as I handed out promotions and medals. I awarded the First Class Iron Cross to my watchman for his bravery in holding the watch during the convoy attack. Two NCOs and a seaman earned their promotions too. Finally I read the citation for the final award.
“For his bravery and loyalty during the patrols on U-Boot 49, the people of the German Reich take pleasure in awarding the Iron Cross Second Class to Sub Lieutenant Fritz Freiderichs, Chief Engineer of U-49. I pinned the decoration to my friend and smiled at him. Then I returned to the podium and as the applause died down I continued.
“For his outstanding valor and dedication, the Kaleun of U-Boot 49 confers on Sub Lieutenant Fritz Freiderichs the rank of Junior Lieutenant, with all benefits and privileges thereof.” The crowd exploded with applause and I pretended to ignore Fritz’s wet eyes as I presented him with his badges of rank. Then the commander too the podium, thanked me and gave me permission to dismiss the men. Doing so, I waited as they filed off the presentation stage, and as I turned to march off behind them, the commander called me to attention. Perplexed, I came to attention, not fully sure what I was expecting.
“For his bravery and daring in the command of the men of U-49, the Chancellor of the German Reich sends his personal regards and respects to Lieutenant Senior Gerhard Linden. He regrets that the affairs of war preclude his personal presentation of this auspicious commendation, as he confers on you the order of the Knights Cross, with Golden Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds. This is the highest honour any man can aspire to. Wear it with pride Kaleun. His warm regards, Chancellor Hitler.”
I trembled as the medal was given to me. Then the commander drew himself erect and saluted me. My years of military training snapped to the fore and I saluted back crisply. With pride in his voice, the Commander dismissed me.
Suzanne congratulated me, and in seconds I was swarmed by the men of U-49. From crewman to officer they all wanted to pay respects.

As England grows bolder and more cunning, hiding her convoys behind the American flags, I begin to fear that the war may not soon come to an end. Though the deeds of the men of U-49 are heroic, I fear we shall have greater legends to create as we push further into the war. It is with overwhelming pride that I push on in the defense of the Fatherland, with the brave crew of U-49 behind me.

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 19 December ’40 - 30 December ‘40

Once again U-49 proved her mettle upon the waters around the English coast.
Sailing from St. Nazaire, we plotted a course to take us to the Eastern coast of Britain. At this stage of the war, things have changed vastly from our early days!
Once rife with both shipping and enemy attack craft, the Channel was devoid of life. Only the ghosts of dead merchants echoed across the lonely waters.
Transiting the Straits at night, we ran her surfaced at full ahead, with a sharp watch on the conn. We spotted several Elco boats but they never managed to detect us. Occasionally, I dived to periscope depth and brought the boat through a lazy circle to detect any contacts. In particular I wanted to know of any warships in advance of our position. Twice we detected warships, but both were far removed from our track. Passing by Portsmouth, we detected a C2 making a dash for the open ocean. She never made it. In darkness, we approached her submerged and prepared for the shot. Our torpedo skills have improved immensely. Honed, no doubt, by the numerous convoy runs we have attacked. Smoothly we set up a solution, fired and watched the torpedo slam into her. Then we fired our second shot. This too slammed into the ship and I prepared to pull alongside her to surface and deliver a coup de grace with our d/g when I heard sonar report a warship inbound on our position. Rather than risk a confrontation so close to the enemy’s ports, I decided to leave the area. Turning our stern to the stricken cargo ship, we fired an aft tube and obliterated her. We exited the scene before the enemy warship arrived, surfaced a little later and continued our run for our patrol zone.

Moving north from Dover we then encountered another C2, again submerged we released our first torpedo and re-plotted for our second shot. As we began to do this, the first torpedo detonated prematurely. Unphased we fired our second torpedo and this time we were rewarded with the weapon slamming into the after section of the boat. Following our already established ‘two-shot policy’, I ordered the boat surfaced and the d/g manned. A few shots aimed at the command deck sent the enemy ship to the seabed.

Entering our patrol zone, we established a step ladder pattern and slowed to one third. Periodically submerging and surfacing to detect merchants. We were rewarded towards the end of our patrol with the discovery of a C3 Merchant ship. Serendipitously, she was steaming directly into firing position. A novel luxury, I had the boat submerged and stopped. We waited in that position like a deadly viper, waiting until the captain of the C3 obliged us by steaming his ship perfectly into our sights. Long a skeptic of the salvo firing, the weapons officer and I discussed and decided to use a salvo shot. I was far more confident in both his and my own skills with regard to targeting now that we’ve gained so much experience. I was also confident that a missed shot would be circumvented by a surface action, as the weather was extremely accommodating. Kals voiced the hope that we would miss, and I sent him scurrying from the command room with a glare. We established our shot, opened our tubes and released. Our excellent position, only 600 m from the ship was key to this shot. The torpedoes slammed fore and aft on the target, and she came to a dead stop within 100 meters of the position we had struck her. Maneuvering the boat alongside at a range of 1000 m, I surfaced manned the d/g and opened fire with amour piercing shells at the boats hull. After some time, the cargo ship exploded spectacularly and sank beneath the calm waters.
Later that evening we encountered two separate Coastal merchants, which I ordered destroyed with the d/g to preserve torpedoes. As we prepared to leave our patrol zone, we happened along a trawler. In a moment of malevolence, I ordered the ship sunk, deciding to take full advantage of the beautiful weather. Standing on the forward deck as Kals fired at the ship, I calmly remarked, “A beautiful night to be a German U-Boat is it not Kals?”
“Ja Herr Kaleun,” he answered, sending a shell into the trawler, “but a terrible night to be a trawler I am thinking yes?”
With a good chuckle at the observation I watched as the trawler was sent to the sea bottom. That same day, the 26th of December we had a belated little Christmas. First a lumbering C3 crosses our path and she is sunk again with another successful salvo, and some gentle prodding from our guns. Then as we decided to turn for home, I get a radio report of a fast moving vessel ahead of us. I try to intercept, but the mysterious vessel is too fast. Curious, I engaged in a long stern chase until we sighted our quarry on the horizon. A T2 Tanker sped her way up north. With a happy grin we gave chase, Fritz liking us to pirates of old who’d give chase in the stern quarter. Except that those pirates had not the advantage of naval gunnery to the caliber we possessed. Ordering the d/g manned, and determined to see some fireworks, we pumped amour piercing shells into the after deck of the tanker. With a spectacular explosion she slipped beneath the waves. I intend to explore this particular method of downing the T2 in the future.
Following the tanker kill up with a costal merchant sunk with our aft torpedoes, we returned to course. Destination: St. Nazaire. With two remaining torpedoes, one bow and one stern, we headed for home. Soon I received news of a cargo ship heading towards us. Setting the watch and sailing directly at the intercept, we were surprised when we missed our fateful rendezvous. Submerging, I established a sonar contact, surfaced and gave chase. The weather had turned from placid to storm in a matter of minutes, and our visibility in the dark howling night was perhaps 200 m. Suddenly the hull of a C2 cargo ship loomed above us starboard side, barely 50m from my bow. Ordering a turn to port and cutting engines to slow, we went undetected as our stern came around and a torpedo was fired. A single torpedo crashed into the boat and sank her. Jubilant at the extremely efficient handling of our boat and weapons we made for home.

The English it seems, were content to allow us in, but our activities on the Eastern coast made them determined not to let us out! No fewer than 5 destroyers patrolled the narrow Straits of Dover and we were constantly harassed by Elco boats. Nevertheless, the inclement weather precluded any engagements, and the crew of U-49 finally returned home with no less than ten kills! Our skills are steadily improving and the torpedoes are becoming far more reliable.

At our awards ceremony, I promoted four men, and awarded my Navigation Officer his Iron Cross 2nd Class. Fritz earned his First Class at the same ceremony.

The sight of the base demoralized us slightly, as she had been victim to a dedicated raid by the RAF. Although the sub pens and hospital area were unscathed, the town surrounding the base had been badly damaged. Suzanne spoke of her fear, seated in the air raid shelter, and the anger at seeing the damage.
“I think,” she later said, “I finally understand how you feel in your boat, submerged, waiting for the depth charges to hit.”
A few days after my arrival, two letters arrived that brought the war home for both Suzanne and I. My parents had penned a letter informing me of the bombing of Kiel. The devastation was total, but my parents home had escaped destruction, being so far removed from the city. My father wrote of the sight of the explosions on the horizon as the bombs struck my home town. Suzanne received a letter too, but her family had suffered far more than mine. I arrived at Suzanne’s apartment that evening to take her to dinner and was greeted with the sight of her sitting on the sofa in the lounge. She had not gotten prepared to go out. Her hair was loose, framing her perfect features like a red-gold halo, her eyes brimmed with tears and streaks marred her cheeks. She held a missive in limp hands. She looked at me as I entered the room and a tear ran down her cheek. Without words I sat beside her and lifted the letter out of her gentle hands. Tears came unbidden to my eyes as I read.
Her family home, a home she had grown up in, the home of her family for five generations had been totally obliterated in the raid. The bookstore, part of her family’s heritage was no more, consumed in the fires of the raid. Her parents had no place to live. At the time of the letter, two weeks prior, they had taken shelter in a ‘displaced persons’ camp. Her mother was stricken with grief, her father, whose hand had written the letter, felt she would not last much longer. Her sister was missing, no one had seen her since the raid. She was presumed lost. Many hours later I roused to find Suzanne’s head on my shoulder, a patch on my uniform damp from her tears. I held her hand in mine, her other hand balled into a fist pressed against her stomach. She stirred too and looked into my eyes, into my soul.
“Filthy, disgusting, war!” was all she said, and lowered her head onto my shoulder again. Then and there I knew what had to be done. Gently I stood, and pulled her to her feet. She looked at me confused, and I began leading her out to the door. She protested, she was a mess, she couldn’t face the club, but I pulled her along firmly, a parent with a reluctant child. Fritz was busy in my office when I entered it, updating the manifests and charts, his surprise at seeing me was only outdone by his shock at seeing Suzanne. With a curt nod, I sent him scrambling for coffee, and I seated Suzanne across from me at the desk.
”Why are we here?” She asked, her voice timid, but I gave no answer, I knew she would never agree to what I was about to do, wouldn’t wish the burden on anyone. A phone call to the dispatch center had me routed to Kiel’s base. The line crackled and popped as the duty officer answered. I asked to be routed to the general area dispatch, and a confused officer connected me to Kiel’s local switch. Then I gave the number for my parents home. I glanced at my wall clock, 2 am. Oops.
My father answered the phone, worry etched in his voice. When he heard my voice he immediately asked, “Suzanne?”
“Here with me Papa, I need you to do something for me, for Suzanne.” Her eyes widened as she realized what I was doing.
“Anything.”
“Her family was displaced in the bombing, they need a home…”Suzanne began to rise, her face flushed with anger and embarrassment.
“The homeless shelter?” My father was ever efficient, even at 2 am.
“Ja.”
“It shall be done, tell her…” The phone was ripped from me by the furious storm that was Suzanne. She glared at me as she spoke briskly,
“Pa, it is not…” A pause, she glanced at me, the fury in her eyes dimmed a notch. “But…pa…no…” Her words were as cotton beaten against a rock. “Pa…ja……ja pa…hullo ma….ja…he is….ja…no…” I began to smile. She may have browbeaten me, but she’d never beat my parents combined. I knew that. Finally she handed me the phone.
“Hello Mama. Ja, she is. Furious. You may lose a son in the next few minutes. Ja mama, I can run fast. Thank you. Thank you both.”
I replaced the phone on its cradle, and faced the wrath of Suzanne. It wasn’t all that bad…
Her hands on her hips she glared down at me. Her tiny, beautiful foot tapped a tattoo on the ground as she measured her ire. Her eyes were tiny slits as she regarded me, much as one might if they discovered a stain on a blouse. I stood, hoping the height advantage would serve me somehow in the coming battle. For steady minutes she said not a word. I breathed in to say something, I still can’t remember what, and Suzanne threw her arms around my neck, holding me tightly against her.
“That is the rudest, most obnoxious, noble, beautiful thing anyone has ever done!”
I stood shocked.
“Thank you my love.” She was crying into my chest, her arms around me in an embrace. I found my tears had mingled into her soft hair. I kissed her forehead and looked into her eyes, saying words I never dreamed I’d speak.
“For you, light of my life, anything. Everything.”
We stood like that for long minutes, my mind and my heart reaching decisions I hadn’t even contemplated. Finally I looked into the eyes of the woman I loved and kissed her, her tears and mine salty upon our lips.

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Cap.Palla]

wow....i think i'll print all these words before start reading :up:

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 27 January ’41 – 4 February ‘41

Our patrol out into the deep waters south west of Britain turned out to be a wasted effort. In transit to the patrol station we encountered a C3 cargo ship. Two torpedoes were expended and the ship was destroyed in a standard night approach and lay up.
The crew has become far more effective in their work.
This served to be the only ship we encountered, despite several ‘submerge and search’ techniques. Returning to port I had my sonar man promoted for his extensive work, and noticed an increase in the radio room efficiency level as a result.

I was ordered to the commander’s office the day following my arrival and informed that I had been selected for promotion. He informed me that I would be attending a special ceremony for this promotion, and that I should invite a partner to the event. Naturally I invited Suzanne. Any initial excitement I may have felt was suppressed, as I had been expecting this promotion for some time. Before I left the office that day I instructed our Chief Engineer and the Machinist Officer to begin installation of the newest engines to reach our fleet. Hopefully this extra power will assist us in our surface approach chases.

The promotion ceremony was an extremely grand affair. The Commander of our Flotilla gave an opening speech and invited the guest speaker, none other than Admiral Doenitz himself, to the podium. The Admiral exhorted the importance of effective leadership, and positive approach to both our trade and our men. He looked over the assembled Kaleun’s and told us that each and every one played a vital role in the prosecution of this war.
“The war will end on a clarion note,” he said, “sounded by the battle hardened men of the U-Boot services.”
Politely we clapped, and the awards began. In short order I was called up and presented with my papers and badges of rank. Shortly after, the new Kapitanleutnant gathered a smiling Suzanne in his arms. I smiled down at her and she whispered in a husky voice, “I always thought you looked sexy in dress uniform. But these new stripes make you look…” with a throaty laugh at my blush she left off the sentence, took my hand and walked out of the hall.

The fateful night we had spent together, bringing her family into mine had resolved itself relatively quickly. My father had gone that very day and located her family. Within hours he had arranged them in the house, the whirlwind that were my parents depositing the traumatized family in their homes before they new what had happened to them. By the end of the week, my father and Suzanne’s were fast friends, and the two woman were inseparable. A letter arrived on the day of my return to base. Six pages, three from my parents, three from hers, addressed to both of us in my care. Suzanne and I chuckled through the whole letter, imagining all too well the four of them sitting around the drawing room offering bits of advice for the letter. Then, two days later I received a call in my office.
“Leutnant Linden? This is Peytr, Suzanne’s father.”
“Good morning, sir! What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to offer our thanks for your hospitality son. You are a kind man, and so is your family.”
“In this war sir, we do al we can.”
“You’ve done far more than any other, and for people you’ve never met.”
”I could do no less for your daughter, I admit, she’s stolen my heart quite badly.”
A laugh, “I was phoning to inform you that Suzanne’s sister Claire was found, she had been in hospital, listed as “Unidentified Person”. She is well enough to speak now, she was trapped under rubble from the attack. We’ve both been to see her, the doctors assure us she is going to make a full recovery.”
“Truly joyous news!” I answered, exuberant, this would cheer Suzanne up immensely. Then the thoughts and decisions I had come to slammed the next question into my head, without particular thought I blurted,
“Sir, I must ask this. But…may I have your permission to take your daughter’s hand in marriage?”
A stunned silence on the other end of the poor connection was broken only by the sound of crockery smashing on the office floor. I looked up and noticed Fritz staring at me, oblivious to the coffee cup at his feet.
“We were all expecting that son,” came the reply, a little bemused, “of course you do. I know you’ll watch over her.”
“Thank you sir.”
Putting down the phone I looked up at Fritz. He sat at my desk and clasped his hands.
“Gerhard?” He prompted subtly.
“What?” I couldn’t suppress the grin. My friend’s face split into a similar grin.
“The bachelor party will be epic…”
My grin faded. But, I decided, not until my promotion.
That day I walked into the hospital and took Suzanne aside to give her the news about her sister. She wept with joy and hugged me hard, a few of her nursing colleagues we had gotten to know hugged her in congratulations too. No-one else had been informed of the situation with her family, just her missing sister.

Now, walking hand in hand away from my promotion ceremony I knew it was time to prepare. I looked across at the most incredible woman I had ever met and smiled. She had no idea what was about to hit her.

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 4 March ’41 – 12 March ‘41

“Milk missions.”
“Pardon?” I asked at the muttered phrase from Fritz.
“Milk missions. Go out. See the world. Return with stale milk. That’s what we’re doing Herr Kaleun.” Fritz grumbled as we continued home from a fruitless patrol.
I smiled at my Chief Engineer’s grumpiness, and noted the mirthful chuckles on the bridge. Despite the patrol we still had a good atmosphere on board. ‘Tug Boat Charlie’ had been heard complaining that our reputation was so fearsome many ships refused to sail in terror of meeting us. He despaired of ever firing his beloved ‘Kaleun’s Ire’ again. I doubted that, but it lightened the mood of the men. We pulled into port in the late morning and secured the ship. I entered my commanders office and gave our short report. With a sigh, he told me that various other boats were experiencing the same problems. He invited me to sit, and we spent an hour discussing possible patrol zones. I spoke of my conviction that our best hunting grounds still existed along England’s western coast. He agreed, but pointed out the increased and aggressive defense systems the English had begun using. We were sending our younger commanders into the area and many returned battered and de-moralized. Those who ever returned.
“The problem is,” I began, “that we are sending our inexperienced commanders into the hornets nest. Our best Kaleun’s and boats should be going into those areas. Post the young ones near shipping routes in deep water, or close to the shelf approaches. That way they can gain some experience without risking the heavy destroyers of the coast.”
The commander had no doubt been considering this, a heavy break with established tradition, and had wanted to hear similar thoughts from his more senior Kaleun’s. With a nod he indicated agreement. Then informed me I would be patrolling in close to the coast in my next patrol. Then we spent another hour discussing the new IX class boat that had come into service, and her newer IXC class that would be released shortly. Finally, I broached the subject that I had been pondering since we embarked on the cruise.
“Kommandant… do you perhaps know where I can buy jewelry?” The smirk accompanying the raised eyebrow brought a flush to my face.
“Not for you I assume Gerhard?” He smiled.
“No sir, I have more than enough.” I quipped. He chuckled.
“It so happens one of my yeomen here had family in the jewelers business. Hold on.”
He yelled for his secretary and called for the yeoman to report to him. 5 minutes later the young man was at attention before us. He looked nervous, but he kept his back straight and his eyes fixed on a spot directly above the Commanders head.
”Hans, how’s your family business?” The young man gulped.
“Good thank you sir.”
“You know who this is right?” Was the next question, with a waved hand indicating my general direction. Another gulp.
“Yes sir. This is Kapitanleutnant Linden, Kaleun of U-49. Sir.”
“And he wants to make a purchase.” The mans faced broadened in a smile.
“Of course Kaleun, I would be honored.”
“You won’t overcharge him like you did me now Hans?” And the smile disappeared.
“Err…”
“Go, Hans. You have 10 minutes to get some goods in here, then I send the MP’s to find you.” The man bolted. We chatted for 9 minutes and the flushed man re-appeared. He must have run the entire base and back. I examined the three rings he had brought with him, all meager, small objects, but given the war I was hardly surprised. Then it dawned on me to ask, “How did you know to bring diamond rings?”
The man smiled broadly, “If the Kaleun will forgive me sir…but…well your lady is well regarded at the base.” I eyed him suspiciously. “What I err mean sir…is umm…well it was obvious it was only a matter of time sir…” My eyebrows narrowed and he shut his lips. A chuckle behind me confirmed the commanders mirth. Finally I chose a ring, not for its beauty, but simply because it was the smallest band there. It also managed to hold the most diamonds. A fact I didn’t appreciate until Hans pointed it out. He gave me a price, and I schooled my features to stillness. Almost double what I had expected. A cleared throat from the commander and a stern look from me frightened the poor Seaman into bringing the price down substantially. I nodded, and pulled the wad of notes I had taken from my office safe, from my pocket. Hans made to leave, but I took hold of his shoulder and looked into his brown eyes.
“Now Hans,” I began and the man gulped again, “I would be most displeased to hear that anyone knew about this purchase.” I squeezed his shoulder for emphasis. The gulp was louder.
“Of course Kaleun.” He stuttered, and I nodded. He bolted for the door and I smiled at the Commander. He chuckled as he said, “He’s a good kid. I doubt he’ll mention anything to anyone.”
“He also undercharged me for that ring.” I said worriedly, “I feel quite bad about that.”
“Don’t you worry,” the Commander answered with a wave of his hand, “I pretend not to notice him taking a pinch or two of the coffee from my tea service when he cleans up. He sells it for a pretty penny to the civilians, so he’s more than made his money back!” I chuckled. Then thanked my old friend and commanding officer.

A few days later I celebrated Suzanne’s birthday with her. The morning of the 16th, she walked into work to find her desk covered in flowers. I had pulled a few strings to arrange that when I had chatted with her Assistant Head Nurse. She had agreed to replace Suzanne for the day. I arrived at the hospital shortly after she began her shift and walked into her office to find her staring at the forest of yellow and red blooms.
She smiled broadly as I wished her and gave her a kiss. Then I told her to get her coat, as she and I were going to breakfast. She protested, pointing out her busy schedule, and Lottie, her assistant breezed in and shooed her off, telling her that her birthday present from the staff was a day off. With a suspicious glance at me, she gathered her things and we exited the hospital. The waiting staff car gave her a moments pause, but she and I drove off into the morning. We had discovered a little bluff overlooking the ocean just outside the town of St. Nazaire. The locals often gathered there and over time the town council had placed several stone benches and tables for picnickers. She babbled happily as we made our way to the bench overlooking the bluff, pleasantly surprised by the basket I carried with me. Seating her at the stone table with the best view of the pristine water, I laid out the breakfast. The war had taken it’s toll, though food was hardly scarce, it was hardly the flamboyant affair it had been when we first arrived at St. Nazaire. Nevertheless I had managed to locate a few croissants, a touch of jam and a fine bottle of champagne that I had bullied out of the officer in charge of the base mess. I figured my prestige earned me some leeway!
Suzanne laughed merrily as we ate and chatted, she particularly enjoyed the two champagne flutes I had stowed in the basket, wrapped in several layers of brown paper to keep them safe. Idly she chewed a piece of fruit as she cuddled up with her back resting on me, enjoying the view of a destroyer tacking along the coastline towards the port. Then I asked her to give me a hand cleaning up the breakfast, and she happily obliged, scuttling off to throw away the debris of a picnic in the only, and strategically far away, dirt bin. She returned, and I had the rest of the picnic packed away, and the two glasses of bubbling champagne set on the table. I offered her a glass and suggested we sit on the grass near the edge of the bluff. The wind played across us and lifted the dress she wore to her knees as we sat in the sun chatting on the grass. She looked over the view and smiled up at me.
“The war seems so far away here. Thank you for a wonderful breakfast. It was so romantic!”
“I have my moments,” I grinned.
“That’s why we keep you…” she smiled as she lifted the glass to her lips. My breath caught, and she stopped halfway, looking into the glass. Then her eyes widened as drew the ring from the glass. Her eyes wide with wonder, she turned the ring over and stared at it. Then her eyes met mine, stunned, unsure of what to say.
“Suzanne Wikus. It is my honour and privilege, to ask for your hand in marriage. I’ve loved you since the day I saw you, and I love you still. You echo in my heart, my dreams and my thoughts. Will you marry…” I never finished the rehearsed line, as she dropped her glass and threw her arms around my neck. Her cheek against mine she whispered in my ear, “Yes…yes…yes…you silly sailor! Of course I’ll marry you!”

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Ducimus]

I admire your literary dedication to produce a more verbose patrol log. I've tried in the past, primarly to excercise my creative writing skills, but man.. it's alot of work.

[Enchanter]

Lol! Thanks! And your'e right it's a lot of work - it's doubled the length of this career :88) - but at the same time it lends a lot of veracity to the career. Now my commander doesn't make stupid decisions that end up getting him killed. Now THAT would make writing a patrol log difficult! :rotfl:

[Jimbuna]

I am really enjoying this sir :yep: ...keep up the good work :up:

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 9 April ’41 – 17 April ‘41

Once again U-49 took to the waters close aboard the English western cost. As we established our patrol we happened upon a lone Small merchant. I manned the d/g and had her sunk. Unusually for Kals, he battled to find his range and lead and pumped a full 60 shells at the target before she sank. Later, he and I discussed this, and we determined that to more effective, I should employ his gunnery from inside the 3000m range. I should also attempt to be tacking slowly alongside the target. In future, I shall endeavor to do this, in the hopes of expediting his target termination time.

Then, as we were leaving station we happened across a C3 cargo ship making slow progress. This time I manned battle stations torpedo and had the ship submerged. As with my previous discussion with the battle officers, we prepared to shoot from about 1500m away. The salve shot was chosen and we fired. One torpedo struck the ship, but the second went wide on the aft side. This has led me to conclude that the salvo shot is best reserved for close in attacks, or attacks on tightly reined in ships, i.e. those in convoy.

Finishing our patrol, I stationed our boat on the entrance the Strait’s continental shelf. Here the deeper water would offer protection, as would the distance from any naval bases. Sure enough, three additional ships met our torpedoes. The first of the three, a C2 cargo was also fired on in salvo, testing my theory regarding range versus accuracy. Sure enough, brining the boat within 700m of the target had both shots hit her. She wallowed a while before breaking up, but mostly, I think we’ve proved the timing of the salvo is a relevant point to consider. Our second target, another small merchant was downed with a single shot, and the coastal merchant we encountered on our run home fell to an aft shot. I keep the crew practicing those against the worries we may need to use them to fend off attacking warships one day.

Returning to port early in the morning of the 17 ensured that we could leave ship in the hands of the docking crew and enjoy some rest. That same morning I presented my report to the Commander, concluding that our newly established tactic had been most effective in netting tonnage. He concurred, though both he and I noted the lack of information regarding both convoys and larger ships. We estimate that our tonnage war against the British has resulted in our outstripping their ability to commission ships as quickly as we sink them. This hearkens back to the ‘glory days’ during the First War when the submarine force was destroying 10 commercial ships for every one put to sea.
We would do well to reach such a zenith again, but our job promises to become far harder with the American shipping taking over the bulk of the enemy’s transport.
I feel that we should abandon pretence and sink these ships. With America’s isolationist policy, we could probably cow them into stopping the transports. Without legitimate reason to enter the war, we threaten no territory of theirs, they would be inclined to stop the shipping rather than sacrifice personnel. Nevertheless, the High Command refuse to allow us to engage the Americans, sighting their declaration of war during the First War as a result of the sinking of civilian vessels in international waters as one of their reasons. This, in my opinion serves only to delay the inevitable. When America sees she can gain prestige and advantage from prosecuting the war against us, she will jump in with both feet as it were. Then we shall have to regain all the triumphs we have won with blood, sweat and sacrifice on these waters.

Suzanne hopes that America shan’t enter the war, citing her President’s lack of organized stand, and the lack of international damnation by the beleaguered ‘League of Nation’s”. I believe she chooses not to see the obvious in light of her hope for resolution to this conflict. Roosevelt’s dream of a council of nations protecting each other, and thereby Europe has been discussed often, and his reference to that dream in various speeches to the American people makes his intention clear. War to subdue the strong, and when that has occurred, he shall preside over this council as the strongest of them all. Dreams of grandeur that should frighten us all.

Suzanne and I have heated debates on this subject, often ending in the declaration of one party or the other that we have discussed this long enough. I enjoy these discussions with her, she is a sharp, intellectual woman with diverse and interesting points of view. She announced her intention to enter a study program being offered by the hospital to teach young woman to be doctors. She has been invited to join them, a rare honour. I believe she will outshine any other candidates.

The letter we penned to our parents was a lengthily and excited affair. Finally we settled on the method of explaining it to them. The letter was mailed five days before I left for patrol. Since our arrival back we have heard no reply, but we are certain there shall be one! Suzanne has set the date, 15 November. She wishes a ‘white wedding’ she hopes for snow. We discussed and agreed on a little church here in St. Nazaire, and I have left the remainder of the preparations to her. She twitters like a bird when any mention the ring in her finger. She regales them with the story of the proposal and smiles with pleasure when they gasp over the ring. She radiates joy. I’ve never seen her this animated. During most discussions about the wedding, I’m left saying “Yes dear,” more often than not. She has enlisted the help of the Commanders wife and the two are forever plotting or conniving some or other favor, demand or concession from the Commander himself.
Exhausted, two days ago, the poor man entered the office and glared at me. “I’ve been harried by those two women since you put that damned ring on her finger Kapitanleutnant! I think I should see about having you put in the stockade for harrying a commanding officer!”
Fritz found this extremely amusing. He also relishes the prospect of the various parties he now has a ‘duty’ to organize, and most of all, he looks forward to the experience of being my best man. No doubt, this wedding will be one not soon forgotten by any involved. I welcome all the joy this generates, as if for a brief moment in the grey world of today, we have a burst of colour. Amidst this war, it is all we can hope for, and all of us cling to it for the warmth and comfort it can bring.

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 15 May ’41 – 22 May ‘41

Once again, U49 takes to the seas to bring glory and honour to the Fatherland!
Ordered to the western coast of the English Isle, my men and I set sail in the late morning after a lengthy and pleasant shore leave.
We knew we were in for an interesting patrol when we spotted our first victim en route to the patrol zone. A small merchant crossed our path in relatively calm waters two days into our patrol. Submerging to periscope depth the crew set about preparing to attack the target.
Our extensive experience was evident as the solution was quickly plotted and a single torpedo fired at the hapless victim from 800 meters. A few seconds later we watched the ship burn and slip beneath the waves. Our patrol had gotten off to a pleasant start.
Not 4 hours later I received a report from my Radioman informing of a ship very near to our location. I quickly turned about and came across the second target of the day. We were in for two very large surprises!

Running on the surface in broad daylight, we soon spotted the target vessel. A look through the ‘scope showed a lovely fat tanker ahead. Rubbing our hands with glee, I ordered an excursion to periscope depth, having elicited that the wind speed was too high for accurate gunnery. As we slipped beneath the waves, I prepared for a submerged attack. Suddenly, I spotted a second ship sailing in the wake of the first! A C2 Cargo had come to join the party.
Long since had the crew and I dispelled the notion that C2’s were our bane. We set about preparing to attack with professionalism and efficiency.
At a dead stop in along our targets projected path, I prepared two torpedoes to magnetically explode beneath the T3 tanker. As she came into our sights, I loosed. The first torpedo ran beneath the target, but failed to detonate. The second however exploded as planned, slowing the vessel. This obviously alerted both ships to the presence of an attacker. They immediately began evasive manoeuvres, but I was pleased to see that the tanker was sluggish. Leaving her be, I turned to get a better position on the C2. That’s when our second surprise appeared.

As I began my attack run I heard the report. “We’ve been spotted, Sir.”
Not overly concerned with this, in such close proximity and with plenty of sea room to manoeuvre, I disregarded the report and continued with my solution. Suddenly the ship rocked and an explosion tore through the hull. Surprised, I called for a damage report as I scanned the horizon for a warship.
There wasn’t one. With growing horror I began to realise that the enemy had begun arming her merchant vessels! I turned full circle and set the periscope back on the C2 just in time to see a shot fired from her aft.
Fortunately, the enemy gunnery has much to be desired, but this new development has me quite worried.
Now forced to be far more circumspect in my attack it took a further two hours to sink both the tanker and the cargo ship, but we managed to do so without much in the way of damage.

Arriving on station, we once again spent an uneventful day searching for vessels. I had been thinking about the situation with the armed cargo ships and had decided on a new course of action. Consequently, our boat will now run submerged during the day, and surfaced at night. So too, our attacks against surface targets with the deck gun will only be prosecuted at night. Kals was decidedly unhappy to hear of this.
“That’s not very sporting of them, is it?” was his only reply to the news that our enemy had just gotten far more aggressive.

Our return home was similarly uneventful, except for a chance sinking of a small merchant. During a particularly horrid storm, I decided to submerge for the day run home. Within in a few hours I received reports of a ship directly ahead of us. I raised the periscope and spotted a small merchant at very close range. Some spur of the moment, manual plotting with the torpedoes resulted in a single hit, and a subsequent kill.

Arriving at base, I informed the Commandant of the newest developments. He seems very concerned about this and issued a warning to be included in all future briefing papers. Hopefully, no brother Kaleun will fall prey to this cowardly response to our naval might!

In other news, the reply to our letter arrived while I was at sea. When I returned home to find my beloved fiancé bustling around her apartment dusting, she threw her arms around me, kissed me then sat me down and read the whole letter, all of five pages, to me word for word. Combined with her chatty commentary on almost every paragraph, this conspired to make the letter a lot longer than would have taken me to read it. But I sat back in the couch, eyes closed as the woman I love sat on my lap and read to me.
Her mother and my mother burst into tears at the announcement, and the fathers immediately began arguing about possible names for their grandsons! They demanded details for the arrangements of their stay here in November. After she had finished reading the letter, she folded it neatly and put it on the table beside the couch. Then, still on my lap, she curled up in my arms and laid her head against my chest.
“Do you think this war will ever end Gerhard?”
“I don’t know lieben. All wars must end. It’s just a question of time.”
“Before our wedding?”
Her voice held such a tremulous whisper of hope. I felt my heart break for her.
“I don’t know Suzanne. I hope so. That would be perfect wouldn’t it?”
“Yes,” she murmured, clearly not convinced.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 19 June ’41 – 02 July ‘41

Confound these worthless technicians!

Receiving orders to patrol just off the North West coast of Africa, the crew and I looked forward to some time near the tropics. What we got however, was high blood pressure!

During our transit to our patrol zone, I began marking off the locations of the various signals our Radioman established. Since most of the time the location of these ships was too far from our projected track, I contented myself with marking them on the map for future reference. What I established after approximately 4 days of steaming was a possible entry and exit lane for the Straits of Gibraltar! This would stand us in good stead.

During the transit I received traffic that the Fatherland had declared war on our allies the Russians. This news served to sink my spirits. Any hope of surrender from the British forces was sunk, now that the Russian bear Stalin was on their war council. I felt like cursing, but couldn’t do so before the crew.

Establishing ourselves on station patrolled the designated zone for 24 hours before turning back home. Having not spotted so much as a flying fish, I elected to establish a patrol near this supposed cargo highway. I informed Command of my intentions and received a reply saying, “Be more aggressive!”
I found this strange, as if I had anything to be aggressive towards I would.

Nearly four hours after establishing our patrol plot, we crossed paths with a Small Merchant ship. Until now, the crew and I had seen a total of 3 hours of sunlight the entire trip. The weather on the seas hadn’t changed a whit. Poor visibility, high winds and precipitation meant that we would not get the opportunity to exercise the deck gun.

Submerging the ship and laying in an intercept track, we crept forward silently and prepared to attack. Having learned from my previous patrols, I ordered two torpedoes readied, and fired them separately, setting them to explode magnetically.
The first torpedo established its 10 m deep run, made 200 meters from the ship and promptly detonated. The fact that the torpedo had a further 400 meters to the target was the problem.

Fortunately the close timing of the second torpedo meant that it could detonate beneath the target just as she began her turn. Although the detonation did not sink her, she was severely disabled in the high sea state.
We prepared another attack, and fired one torpedo off again. This one missed ahead of the target, and the second we fired (now the fourth for the encounter), finally sank the target.
All in all, not suitable results for such a well drilled crew.
But worse was to come. Re-establishing our patrol, we received word of a C3 cargo ship, and sure enough, we spotted her an hour later. Still in the terrible storm, I called for periscope depth and planned the attack. A freak occurrence in the wave periodicity must have exposed our sail however, for no sooner did I open my torpedo tubes than I heard the sound of the C3’s gun firing on us. We had been spotted. It was time to act fast. The solution set, and the torpedoes primed, I loosed two shots. BOTH detonated as soon as they made the 200 meters arming distance, a full 500 meters from the target!
Concerned that the storm was playing havoc with my magnetic sensors, I re-established my intercept and fired off a further two shots with impact triggers, at a depth of 8m.
The first torpedo detonated 400 meters out, but the second hit the target. Sadly I was running out of torpedoes and the C3 showed no signs of stopping. Over the course of two hours I expended every torpedo on the boat. Not one torpedo successfully armed, or detonated on time. I was livid. Turning my stern to the target, I made for Base, certain that I could hear the laughter of the C3’s crew as we left the scene ingloriously!

On return to the Base, I made my report to the Commandant, who was furious at the news of the premature detonations. He and I marched off to speak to the chief technician in charge of the torpedoes. An inspection found fully 30 of the 70 torpedoes were primed incorrectly! Immediately, the word saboteur sprang to mind. I believe the Commandant had the same suspicions, as I see the weapons locker now has armed personnel on guard, 24 hours a day.
Subsequent to this, I have sent all my torpedo men on a course, held by the chief technician, to learn how to inspect, repair and arm the triggers. The chief technician was clear however, that major storms WILL have a negative effect on the magnetic torpedo trigger.

Because of these developments, I found myself working late at the base almost every night. After a week ashore, I heard a knock on my door one evening. Gruffly, I gave permission to enter, and glanced at my wall clock. 22:00. Another wasted evening. When my eyes returned to the figure at the door I broke into a smile. Standing there in a light coat and clutching a basket was Suzanne.
“Remember me?” she asked timidly.
“Sometimes I think you are simply a dream.” I replied standing and coming around the desk. She opened the basket and revealed a picnic dinner.
“Since you seem intent on avoiding my cooking, I thought I’d bring it to you,” she chuckled. Not seated for five minutes however, my door opened and in strode my Commandant. Jumping to my feet and snapping out a salute, I began preparing for a tongue lashing for letting civilian personnel into my office. The Commandant however, didn’t even blink to see Suzanne there. Quite the contrary, he strode over to the basket and plucked out a chicken leg, which he began to nibble as he casually joined our dinner! It would seem my darling fiancé has endeared herself to the whole base!
We spent a pleasant hour discussing everything but the war, but finally the discussion turned there.
“Gerhard,” began the Commandant, “have you thought about moving to 2nd Flotilla? You could snap up command of one of the IX boats with no trouble.”
I eyed my Commandant, weighing my reply. I could see that Suzanne had held her breath.
“I have, Sir. But I don’t feel now would be a prudent time.”
“Why not?”
“It would mean a relocation of base, Sir, and I’m not prepared to do that prior to the wedding.”
The Commandant’s smiled beamed over my table, and I heard Suzanne exhale a little sigh of relief.
“Very good Gerhard,” he nodded, “but even as much as I will hate to lose you, it is far more prudent that you gain command of a more effective boat.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I replied. Then stood as he rose and made his farewells.
Suzanne eyed me steadily for a few seconds, and then asked, “Are you holding back in your career because of me?”
I came around the desk to hold her before replying, “No my love. I’m simply waiting for the right moment. I’m a submariner remember? I’m nothing if not patient!”
Her return hug was hard and long, her words muffled against my chest.
“Just be careful out there, sailor.”

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 30 July ’41 – 11 Aug ‘41

This entry promises to be a little bit dull I’m afraid.
A standard patrol of the NW coast of Africa again, this time we encountered and sank 4 costal merchants.

Tired of Kals’ whining about not getting any time at his post, I surfaced in calm weather and sank the first merchant with armour piercing rounds to the deck gun area. We must have ignited the ammo storage locker as she went up very quickly. Well, if the enemy wants to play with fire, let them get burned!

The remaining three were put under by torpedo. Each torpedo fired hit her mark this time, and all exploded at the correct time! It would seem that our chat with the head technician has paid off.

The crew is suitably relaxed and happy with a successful mission.

As my wedding day draws near, I’m beginning to get nervous. Accommodation has been located for the families and they will all be arriving the 1st of September. The chapel is booked, and the formalities seem to be ironed out. The reception, sadly, will not be a lavish affair, but we have been able to secure catering for approximately 100 people. Fritz has begun planning the bachelor party, and when I ask him about it, he merely shrugs, and smiles mysteriously. I should have gotten around to having him shot sooner than this.

In addition to his duties as best man, Fritz is also responsible for my military entourage. He has graciously given the honour of announcing the married couple over to the base Commandant. But he has reserved the right to make the opening speech at the reception.

Suzanne is getting more and more excited. It’s great to watch her lively animated excitement as she picks flowers, arranges seating and lives - what she has taken to calling - her personal fairytale.
She has become my morning star, the single method by which I navigate through this life, a life that despite the grey terror that is war, nevertheless promises beauty and peace. I fight now, not for the Fatherland. Now I fight to return home to my precious love. With each burning hulk I send to the bottom, I will this war to end sooner. No more the stories of glory or adventure I was promised. Now I fight merely to live a life of peace. There is a strange dichotomy in that; I the warrior who fights for his peace, and she the healer that battles the suffering my very war causes.

[Penelope_Grey]

This was a really cool read... but its seems to me.... a common norm emerges... U-boat captains seem to have a "thing" for nurses! lol

[Enchanter]

Maybe it's a matter of availability?:)
After all, there aren't all that many eligble ladies running around who are...shall we say of the correct calibre? :hmm:

Aside from the Commandant's daughter...and we ALL know where that ends up! :lol:

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 8 September ’41 – 20 September ‘41

Bon Voyage U-49!

Setting out from port for this patrol was a singularly emotional experience for all the crew. It is very likely the last time I shall command this boat into unfriendly waters. My patrol expected to last 10 days or so will return me to shore and find me on leave. Thereafter, I transfer to 2nd Flotilla, and gain command of a new boat.

As such, the crew and I are determined to make a show of returning with high tonnage!
There was absolutely no doubt that we would achieve precisely this when, 2 days into our patrol we encountered our first target, a juicy, fat C3 cargo ship.
Submerged, with battle stations manned, the U-49 set about plying her deadly trade. Without error we plotted a solution and loosed a torpedo. Against common sense and tradition, we watched her drive all the way home. The subsequent explosion in the after section of the ship lifted the vessel out of the water at the stern! As the stern returned into the water the entire aft section of the ship broke apart and the vessel began her dive of death.

Such a spectacular hit set the tone for our future engagements. Two Small merchants, one costal merchant and another C3 cargo ship were sent to the bottom for a particularly impressive tonnage value! The crew and I refused to leave our area of operations until we were out of torpedoes! And that we did! Sadly, the inclement weather precluded the use of the deck gun, or we would have surely stayed out longer!

In fact, it was due to the terrible weather we found the majority of our targets! With the fog so heavy one could barely see the bow of our submarine; I ordered the lookouts below and ran to a depth of 13 meters. I slowed to Ahead Slow and began trolling for contacts on my hydrophones. Our time spent locating the freight highways into and out of the Straits of Gibraltar paid dividends here. We were able to detect the targets a lot further out than we would have spotted them, then close in we fired off torpedoes. The nature of the engagement meant that most of the time we were coasting along at 3 knots, less than 350 meters from our target! One such engagement left us with a solution, but no visible target! As we finished the plot the ship drifted out of sight into the haze. I ordered the shot fired and listened at the hydrophones until we heard the sound of an explosion on the bearing of the missing ship! A cheer of joy erupted throughout the boat as we proved once again to be the best crew upon the seas!

Thus encouraged by well timed solutions and shots, I began taking this approach to more ships. Often lowering the periscope before a plot was finished. The subsequent ‘over the shoulder’ shot as my Weapons Officer has taken to calling them, produced more hits than our previous, standard solution shots! I believe this is a combination of several factors, including the experience of the crew, the accuracy of the solution, and most importantly, our proximity to target. Such proximity is unthinkable in clear weather conditions, but whereas in the past the merchant ships felt safer in the storms, with us unable to shoot from far away, we have just now developed a technique that promises to remove that thin safety blanket of theirs!

Returning to base as heroes once more, the crew and I disembarked from more than a submarine. We stepped off our home for the last time. With Fritz and the other officers assembled alongside the pier, we all came to attention to salute a faithful friend who had protected us and suffered with us until the very end of our tenure.

The Commandant in charge of the base informed me during my report that as a wedding gift from a grateful Navy, (his words, not mine), my whole crew was being transferred to my new command, at such time as it became clear what that was. The cheers, backslapping and partying that accompanied that announcement when I informed the crew was enough to remain etched in the history of St. Nazaire for years to come!
Tears were in both Fritz and Reckhoff's eyes as they shook my hand and gave me a fierce hug. They had served too long to be separated from me now.

Sitting at my desk a few days later I asked Fritz why he had never asked to be re-assigned. His rank and experience were certainties to acquire him a boat of his own.
His reply touched me, “Herr Kaleun. I wouldn’t dream of leaving this berth. Where else can I serve the Fatherland better, than by serving with her most prized Kaleun?”
I began to sputter that was hardly the case, but he smiled at me and stood slowly. “When we met, I didn’t think we’d survive our first tour Gerhard. But I was wrong. And beyond your ability to command, is your ability to inspire the souls of your crew. I would follow you, Herr Kapitanleutnant to the gates of Hell itself. If only to watch you torpedo them open and drive the devil from his lair!”

With our families arriving, Suzanne and I had hardly a moment to spare to ourselves. Upon learning that my father was in St. Nazaire, the Commandant demanded to meet him. The two sat gossiping like old men on a porch for three hours before I was ordered to conduct a tour of the base for my father. My dad marveled at our country’s advancement since his time in the Kriegsmarine. Then in a rare honour, the Commandant accompanied us to the U-49, where I gave one final inspection.
My dad ran his hands over the periscope grips and lovingly handled the Hydrophone gear – his station during the First Great War. Then we inspected the massive diesel engines that had so tirelessly pushed us through the raw majesty of the ocean. Finally we came to the bow torpedo rooms. I showed my father the torpedoes we used and explained the magnetic trigger to him. Once back in the command room of the ship my father stopped and turned full circle. He went to stand at the point where I always assumed my command. Without error he stood on the exact spot where I had stood, silently praying that the destroyers would miss, or the torpedoes would run to completion.
“You stand here, Gerhard, yes?” he asked quietly. I nodded once. My father closed his eyes and stood still for a while.
“I can’t imagine what it’s like. But I am so very proud of you my son. So very proud.”
When he opened his eyes, tears glistened in them, though he made a show of turning to the weapon officer’s station and examining the bulkhead.
When we returned home he was quiet, but later that day my mother came to me and told me how I happy I had made him. How happy he was to see the might of Germany after the embarrassment that was Versailles. That made me think. My father had served in a losing war, and yet remembered only the pride of the Fatherland. I hoped that when I grew old enough to watch my children work, that I too could remember my time in the service with honour and distinction.
Suzanne came up to me and put her arms around my waist as I stood staring out of the windows at the base that I had served in for so long.
“What are you thinking about Gerhard?” she whispered.
“I’m thinking,” I replied after a moments thought, “that I’m a very fortunate man.”
Her answering hug confirmed to me that I was.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 18 October ’41 – 26 October ‘41

Shakedown.

Well, as efficient as the German Kriegsmarine can be, I never thought they’d be this efficient!
Not two days into my leave I get called into the 2nd Flotilla’s Commandant’s office and told that my new command is ready!
I had initially been made to believe that I would take command of a used IXB when her crew returned from patrol, however, it was decided that I would command an IXC, and it so happened my boat, U-504 arrived in dock at Lorient just yesterday!
My Commandant gave me my transfer papers, then shook my hand and saluted me. I felt as if I was leaving my family home as I got into the staff car for the trip home to pack.

I didn’t count on a livid fiancé however!
“You’re on leave, Gerhard!” she yelped when I told her the news.
“We’re at war, Suzanne,” I replied, which I admit now was the best response I could have given, but I was so excited about my new command!
A few choice words later, I was hurrying out of my old apartment as my irate wife-to-be began picking up one or two of the things she had thrown at me. Getting into the staff car, I urged speed, not for my command, but to escape my loves wrath!

Although I was upset she couldn’t be excited about this fantastic opportunity, I must admit that I am very glad to see she has some pluck! She’s certainly as tempestuous as the day I met her! Despite the argument, I called her the instant I arrived in Lorient, and her sweet silky voice greeted me back. We both apologized, declared our love and I went to meet my new Commanding Officer, Viktor Schütze.
Words cannot describe what it felt like to meet such a hero of the German people! This tall man came around the desk and shook my hand and sat me down.
“Gerhard,” he began, sitting across from me, “I won’t lie to you. We have some of the hardest tasks in the navy. We also have some of the greatest Kaleun’s in the world. I’m afraid your reputation in 7th Flotilla will count for very little here. You’ll have to begin proving yourself all over again.”
“I’ll prove myself, and more, sir,” I replied.

His words were true however. As I stepped onto my newly constructed boat, the marvel of the new technology receded and a single word sprang to mind.
“Deathtrap.”
“What was that Gerhard?” Fritz asked, as we walked through the command deck. Until then I hadn’t realized I had spoken out loud.
“Leaking seals, dented bulkheads, this gangway is already rusted and it’s not forty days old!” I exclaimed.
“That’s why we have such an experienced crew!” came the jovial reply.

Such experience would be needed, and badly so! I spent two weeks preparing to take my command out, and finally I felt ready to take her to sea. The Commandant gave me my orders, explaining that this would be a ‘soft’ cruise to test the systems on board. And my mettle, it was implied.

We began our transit, and arrived on station. The IXC has a lot of power to offer, and her deep fuel tank means extended, high speed runs. Her batteries last longer than on the VIIB and she is a far sturdier ship. We ran down to crush depth once or twice, and flanked and reversed the engines. By the time we arrived on station we had tested almost every station.
Except for the deck gun, every station was ready and becoming better. When our first victim appeared on the horizon, I deliberately watched my gunner Kals. The poor man almost began salivating with excitement! Calmly, and sadistically, I asked for a weather report. When the report came back all clear with no wind, I began to look thoughtful. I couldn’t decide who’d break first. Me - with laughter - or Kals. Finally the man broke. All but hitting his knees, he begged for a chance to test the new deck gun. I nodded and joined him on deck.

The 10.5 inch gun is an impressive naval weapon. Sadly, the increased diameter means decreased shell capacity. But overall, a very solid weapon. Kals needed some time to re-adjust to the sighting and accuracy, but as he became more proficient the fires on the distant C3 we targeted became more and more wild.
Finally she slipped beneath the waves. That would be our last opportunity to fire from the surface.

Now I wished to test our submerged capability. I began executing all my attacks and intercepts from a submerged position. Slowly we became more comfortable running this behemoth. Consequently, the Weapons Officer and I have decided to use only the type II electric torpedoes on our next patrol. We wish to perfect our silent, submerged kill.

On return from the shakedown cruise, with no less than 5 ships sunk, we were greeted much more positively by the dock crew. Obviously, we have made our bones with these crusty old salts. Now we, the soft, sea faring crew, must live u p to those standards on every patrol. Schütze shook my hand when I arrived back in his office and took my report with a nod.
“Very well Kaleun,” he smiled, “you’ve got what it takes to be in the 2nd Flotilla. Welcome aboard.”
With a smile, I thanked him and made to leave. As I turned he mentioned casually,
“I understand you are to be married this November yes?”
“Yes Kapitan!” I replied proudly.
“You poor, poor, man,” he laughed, “you almost look eager! Well Kapitanleutnant, you’ll be pleased to know you are only required back at base on the 25th of November.”
With that, I departed to return to St. Nazaire, and my tempestuous fiancé.

On arrival, she met Fritz and me as we sat in the Officers Club enjoying some beers and chatting with a few other Kaleuns. Amazingly, it was Suzanne who asked a question no-one else had framed by then. After the usual chatting and laughing she looked at me and asked,
“What is your ship’s name?”
Fritz and I looked at each other. We had discussed this at length, and even found a suitable emblem for the shipwrights to paint on the sail.
“Das Krokodil.” I replied, with a smile.

[Thunder]

Good stuff man.what province you in?

[Enchanter]

Thanks Thunder, based in Gauteng.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 26 November ’41

This will be the final entry in this diary.

On the morning of November 26 1941, Gerhard Linden set sail for his assigned patrol route. Poor intelligence or just a lack of communication led him to the rendezvous point for an Allied battle formation.

First indication of trouble was when, under cover of night his ship was rammed side on by a light destroyer.
Crippled and unable to submerge, Kapitanleutnant Gerhard Linden ordered his crew to the guns and began a raging fire fight. Standing atop the watch tower he directed torpedo fire while his brave crew fought gun actions against the British Navy.

Accounting for five enemy warships, this Hero of the Fatherland was finally sunk by gunfire.

As his crew abandoned ship, Gerhard Linden, gravely wounded, began the operation of destroying the various top secret coding devices found aboard his vessel.
He was lost with his boat, and 35 of 55 crewmen.
Their ultimate sacrifice led to the safe destruction of the top secret equipment, and the total loss of U-Boot 504.

I know it was his habit to speak of his personal affairs in this diary too. His wedding and subsequent honeymoon was what he would later describe to his friends as the most perfect example of heaven in the world. Photos show a happy smiling couple, and friends talk of a wonderful union between two well loved people.
His family grieves the loss of a son, as the people of the Reich grieve the loss of a hero.
His 14 days of marriage, he wrote in a love letter, were the best two weeks of his life.

I know his spirit is at peace, laid to rest among the fighting men he had come to cherish, and aboard the command to which he had aspired his entire career. He was lost in a manner reflective of his brave, unwavering dedication to his land, his crew and his Fuhrer.
His devotion to his family, and his new bride was rivalled only by his devotion to his duty, as a warrior of the Reich, and an officer of the Kriegsmarine.

Farewell Gerhard, my loving, wonderful husband. You shall be sorely missed forever.

Suzanne Linden.
28 November 1941

[Jimbuna]

A really great read Kaleun http://www.psionguild.org/forums/images/smilies/wolfsmilies/pirate.gif

http://www.psionguild.org/forums/images/smilies/wolfsmilies/thumbsup.gif

[Enchanter]

Thank you, Sir. :)

[donw]

That my friend, was a very satisfying read! Very nice work! *Salute* You should see if Neal can get that into the next Alamanac.
Any chance of a new Career story?

[Enchanter]

Now that it's done, I'd very much like to get it submitted for considedration. I'm pretty sure it'll go in when the announcement for the submissions goes out.

And yes, a new career story is in the pipeline, but since I'm currently running GWX, well, it's called a short story for a reason. Two missions to be precise! :oops:

[donw]

OUCH! Sorry to hear that Mate! :cry:
GWX 1.3 or 2.0?

[Enchanter]

1.3!! I'm not nearly brave enough for 2.0!!!
:rotfl:

[donw]

It's not so much tougher, as it is just plain prettier!! :up:

[Penelope_Grey]

GWX 2 is not harder than 1.3 was. Not in terms of enemy behaviour at any rate.