Finback
02-04-07, 03:14 AM
AAR of KL Mensch Albert Angst
Date: 12 February, 1943
Time: 0941 Local
Sky Condition: Abolutely Clear
Sea State: I could have skipped a stone from La Rochelle to Boston
Patrol to date: 2 Tramp Steamers. 10 Torpedos remain.
After days of fruitless patrolling, our excellerated time suddenly took a serious bump. Could it be? Yes! Our miracle metox begins chirping like a ravenous chickadee. Action stations are sounded and the crew race to their stations like a herd of migrating wildebeast.
Leveling off at 15 meters we slow to two knots. I order the soundman to turn off his Tom Jones recordings and earn his pay. After shooting me a scornful glance he reluctantly obeys. (Note: Transfer Gerd Hartmann upon return to Brest). Twenty minutes later he reports a contact, "Merchant. Closing. Long range." What bodacious luck! We were already in perfect position. A minor course change and we began closing our hapless prey.
(I scripted my own campaign: about 400 convoys. Yes, I need to get a life :hmm: but it does make for some awesome escort screens and convoys compositions).
Not wishing to push my luck I con the U-435 in real-time. 35 minutes later the ONS Convoy crawls over the horizon. Two destroyers lead the herd 5-6 kilometers ahead. We easily evade the sleepy Tommies. Behind them are the meat and potatos we lust. Looks like 50-60 sausage haulers, rocking like elephants. Ahead of them three escorts scurry about like ants pursued by a magnifying glass. The closest is a tough customer: a Black Swan. It tries to force me outside but I cleverly out-manuveur it. Okay. I was super-lucky :smug: . The starboard flanking escort is out trolling for marlin: Flower Class and no threat. I select a Medium Tanker as my primary target, order ffiteen degrees right rudder and slowly position myself. Nothing but sound shall guide me for the next several minutes.
(Several minutes later)
Up scope! There she is! 12,000 tons of Oak Leaves and Swords! 2 G7A's and 2 FAT's are prepared forward, a G7E III aft. Target is 800 meters, AOB 70 Starboard. The 2 G7A's leap from their tubes as if I thrust them out by my terrifying, gutteral yell alone. Compressed air helps though. Swivelling the scope I choose my aft target. Medium Merchant, 600 meters, AOB port 90. KERWHOOOOSH. Another denizen of destuction on its way. I whip the scope back quickly as sweat streams down my back. What's this?!! River Class AOB 0, about 1200 meters. Blast! I've already been spotted! Dang the incoming fire and more speed Edie!!! A hurried shot with my FAT's at large merchant 1 column over and KERBLAMO BLOOEEKAWHAM, the tanker erupts like a stepped on a bloated tick. She's a goner! Gun fire is getting close now and it's time to duck. No time for elegance now--flank speed to 180 meters!!! Passing 20 meters and WHAMOKERBAM, the stern eel finds it's mark. The FAT's prove to be faulty. Certainly it couldn't be my marksmanship...
The wabos begin exploding as I pass 90 meters, "Way aft of us and much too shallow", I scoffed. Little did I know that the whole episode was a GWX set-up.
(NINE HOURS LATER!!! :damn: ) Real-time with breaks for coffee, lunch, bathroom, supper, feeding the cat, taking out the trash and reading Hitler's U-Boat War--there are still 2 escorts above me. One I'm certain is the River Class that drove me down. A couple others pests have come and gone and I think the other one up there now is Black Swan (judging from a couple of its DC runs). The Tommies seem to have used up all there toys and are just holding me down now. I'm deep. WAYYY Deep!!! (no spoilers :shifty: ).
Battery 50%. Long on oxygen but short on patience, I bring the trusty 435 boat to 40 meters and order 3 eels to be loaded, "and I want it done quietly!!!". Set torpedo depth for 5 meters, magentic fuses intead of impact for this attack. 45 minutes later the U-435 planes to 13 meters to meet her fate. And her destiny.
River Class: 400 meters, AOB 140 Starboard, lead it, LOS!!! ticktickticktick KERSPLOOOSHWHANG. Up scope and identify Black Swan coming in hard. Too Close to shoot so down scope, flank speed and rudder hard a-port. The collision is avoided by a gnat's hair. Up scope. The Swan's turning left, AOB port 150, range 350--lead it just so and turn loose 2 more eels. A Hail Mary shot if there ever was one. But what's this?!! A hail of gun-fire rocks the conning tower and all goes dark. The periscope--that magnificent piece of German engineering--has been ruduced to twisted scrap! BUT ticktickticktick BLa-WHANGO!!
Five minutes later, the U-435 surfaces to a beautiful night. Due to damage, decide to return to Brest.
Through it all the crew remained unfazed. After all...
Angst is their Captain
Hat's off to the GWX Crew!!! I love/hate you guys!!!
Date: 12 February, 1943
Time: 0941 Local
Sky Condition: Abolutely Clear
Sea State: I could have skipped a stone from La Rochelle to Boston
Patrol to date: 2 Tramp Steamers. 10 Torpedos remain.
After days of fruitless patrolling, our excellerated time suddenly took a serious bump. Could it be? Yes! Our miracle metox begins chirping like a ravenous chickadee. Action stations are sounded and the crew race to their stations like a herd of migrating wildebeast.
Leveling off at 15 meters we slow to two knots. I order the soundman to turn off his Tom Jones recordings and earn his pay. After shooting me a scornful glance he reluctantly obeys. (Note: Transfer Gerd Hartmann upon return to Brest). Twenty minutes later he reports a contact, "Merchant. Closing. Long range." What bodacious luck! We were already in perfect position. A minor course change and we began closing our hapless prey.
(I scripted my own campaign: about 400 convoys. Yes, I need to get a life :hmm: but it does make for some awesome escort screens and convoys compositions).
Not wishing to push my luck I con the U-435 in real-time. 35 minutes later the ONS Convoy crawls over the horizon. Two destroyers lead the herd 5-6 kilometers ahead. We easily evade the sleepy Tommies. Behind them are the meat and potatos we lust. Looks like 50-60 sausage haulers, rocking like elephants. Ahead of them three escorts scurry about like ants pursued by a magnifying glass. The closest is a tough customer: a Black Swan. It tries to force me outside but I cleverly out-manuveur it. Okay. I was super-lucky :smug: . The starboard flanking escort is out trolling for marlin: Flower Class and no threat. I select a Medium Tanker as my primary target, order ffiteen degrees right rudder and slowly position myself. Nothing but sound shall guide me for the next several minutes.
(Several minutes later)
Up scope! There she is! 12,000 tons of Oak Leaves and Swords! 2 G7A's and 2 FAT's are prepared forward, a G7E III aft. Target is 800 meters, AOB 70 Starboard. The 2 G7A's leap from their tubes as if I thrust them out by my terrifying, gutteral yell alone. Compressed air helps though. Swivelling the scope I choose my aft target. Medium Merchant, 600 meters, AOB port 90. KERWHOOOOSH. Another denizen of destuction on its way. I whip the scope back quickly as sweat streams down my back. What's this?!! River Class AOB 0, about 1200 meters. Blast! I've already been spotted! Dang the incoming fire and more speed Edie!!! A hurried shot with my FAT's at large merchant 1 column over and KERBLAMO BLOOEEKAWHAM, the tanker erupts like a stepped on a bloated tick. She's a goner! Gun fire is getting close now and it's time to duck. No time for elegance now--flank speed to 180 meters!!! Passing 20 meters and WHAMOKERBAM, the stern eel finds it's mark. The FAT's prove to be faulty. Certainly it couldn't be my marksmanship...
The wabos begin exploding as I pass 90 meters, "Way aft of us and much too shallow", I scoffed. Little did I know that the whole episode was a GWX set-up.
(NINE HOURS LATER!!! :damn: ) Real-time with breaks for coffee, lunch, bathroom, supper, feeding the cat, taking out the trash and reading Hitler's U-Boat War--there are still 2 escorts above me. One I'm certain is the River Class that drove me down. A couple others pests have come and gone and I think the other one up there now is Black Swan (judging from a couple of its DC runs). The Tommies seem to have used up all there toys and are just holding me down now. I'm deep. WAYYY Deep!!! (no spoilers :shifty: ).
Battery 50%. Long on oxygen but short on patience, I bring the trusty 435 boat to 40 meters and order 3 eels to be loaded, "and I want it done quietly!!!". Set torpedo depth for 5 meters, magentic fuses intead of impact for this attack. 45 minutes later the U-435 planes to 13 meters to meet her fate. And her destiny.
River Class: 400 meters, AOB 140 Starboard, lead it, LOS!!! ticktickticktick KERSPLOOOSHWHANG. Up scope and identify Black Swan coming in hard. Too Close to shoot so down scope, flank speed and rudder hard a-port. The collision is avoided by a gnat's hair. Up scope. The Swan's turning left, AOB port 150, range 350--lead it just so and turn loose 2 more eels. A Hail Mary shot if there ever was one. But what's this?!! A hail of gun-fire rocks the conning tower and all goes dark. The periscope--that magnificent piece of German engineering--has been ruduced to twisted scrap! BUT ticktickticktick BLa-WHANGO!!
Five minutes later, the U-435 surfaces to a beautiful night. Due to damage, decide to return to Brest.
Through it all the crew remained unfazed. After all...
Angst is their Captain
Hat's off to the GWX Crew!!! I love/hate you guys!!!