Penelope_Grey
04-28-07, 06:39 PM
U-101 latest patrol.
Things had not been going too good this patrol, in fact, it was downright depressing, so depressing in fact I just can't be stuffed to give it the usual flare of a write up. So there were were we had just patrolled our AM23 grid and were on our way back down to AM01 for a look round then over to AM52. Weather the whole patrol had been apalling while visibility improved greatly following our patrol of AM23 the sea remained rough and choppy.
On the way out we sank a British Large Cargo ship inbound and she went down in no time. As we pressed further on round the south-western part of southern Ireland, we sighted a lone British Destroyer, it was dark and visibility was not great, we decided to chance it and remain on the surface, the gamble paid off, no diving required they didn't spot us. As we headed up towards AM23 we frequently spent long durations at low revs underwater hoping to ride the storm out, each and every time we neared the surface we were yet again disapointed to find the boat tumbling about as we broke surface.
Morale was getting extremely low, the crew were despondant and easily irritated, truthfully I was not doing too good myself. In short we were nearing AM23 and we happened to detect a Large Cargo on hydrophones. We chased him down and found an outbound ship, the fog was thick but not too thick, we were able to get underwater undetected and we fatally wounded the massive clunker, it soon succumbed to its wounds and sank. Couldn't help but feel guilty for the crew in this kind of weather.
As we patrolled AM23, there was nothing. Not a jot. No radio transmissions from Base, from other U-Boats... nothing. It was like we were the only people left in the world. Our nights consisted of submerged running using hydrophones, and our days were surfaced recharging batteries. Normally you do it the other way about, but at night we couldn't see a thing hardly.
After finishing that little chore we turned south once more. The weather finally began to lift and visibility came back, but, the heavy seas remained. U-101 was bobbing about like nobody's business. How the navigator and the chief kept us on course I will never know. We reached AM52 without hitch, but the sea was still rough, after making a survey of it we found nothing, not a trace. So with the sea being so bad, and showing no sign of improvement, and with crew morale fading, I decided we would head back to Lorient and forgo a look round AM01.
We were on our way home and we sighted a destroyer, feeling excited that it could be lead escort for a convoy we headed to intercept, however luck was not on our side, we had underestimated our position on the earth now and it got light much much quicker. They spotted us and began shelling us. We made a crash dive and found we had been duped, it was a lone ship, just us, and him.
We arrived at 70m and I ordered Silent Running, U-101 was making revolutions for 3 knots, I thought with the sea so rough and all the background noise it would interfere with their hydrophone receivers. I was right, then we heard Asdic. Everybody's heart sank, because we knew then we were in their sights, the pings became more intense less intervals we heard the destroyer coming, we tried changing direction, but it was too late.
The depthcharges fell and impacted all around our stern torpedo room. The rudder mechanism inside briefly jammed, and to make matter worse torpedo tube 5 was rendered inopperative! Water came pouring in through the tube filling up the compartment, quickly damage control was on the case, due to damage to our rudders we had to stop for a moment. The destroyer knew where we were and was coming back for a second bite!
We had sunk by the stern to 80m now, so without further ado I started engines and tried to get out of the way of the charging destroyer, with flooding stopped and just waiting to restore rudders we began at ahead standard, the pings got louder and I ordered a dive. Depth charges dropped.
Yet again he was near his mark. What we had repaired in the stern torpedo may have been for nought. Another barrage started the flooding again, and this time our starboard propellor paid the price the shaft had momentarily jammed as the locks on it engaged! We stopped the other engine as yet again the stern torpedo was taking a beating. Once more we got it under control.
We knew that this guy meant business, he knew what he was doing. Scarily enough. It was time to stop languishing in the shallows and get deeper and to safety. I ordered a dive to 150m and we went down quick at ahead standard, the boat plunged into the depths. Here they came on their third attack run. This should by rights have left us dead, decisively so. They ran straight over the top of us, and dropped depthcharges galore, pointless trying to move out of the way they had dropped so many. I imagined that depth charges were falling down all round us with nowhere to go for us.
Then we heard it, BOOM! followed by another, and another. The depthcharge barrage exploded shallow! The fatal blow, had missed! All the depthcharges exploded above our heads leaving U-101 unscathed down below. Silent speed and silent running were now re-engaged and we slunk off to safety, our would be killer proceeded to pound the spot and immediate vicinity where the depthcharges exploded shallow for another 30 minutes or so till eventually he broke off heading away.
The chief told me the stern tube was out of commission and we were very very fortunate the torpedo in it did not blow up too. I decided we would return to Lorient with due haste. But as we waited for night to fall before surfacing it was as if we were rewarded for surviving a small freeighter was detected on hydrophones. We closed the distance and executed an attack from the still functional forward tubes, one shot to the fuel bunker rendered her in two and down she went.
Following this we returned to Lorient with a lot of dents to our stern end needing to be hammered out. It would be dry dock for U-101 that was for sure. Our total estimated sinking tonnage was a mere 23,000 not a good time for U-101. We were lucky to be alive. I was invited to the club to celebrate, but as a Fraulen Kaleun I did not feel like celebrating using the copious amounts of cigar smoke, and french hookers as an excuse to not going they saw through me because neither had stopped me before.
I just didn't feel like celebrating such a dismal and frankly dangerous patrol. I got the distinct impression that as we neared Christmas 1940. We were no longer shooting sitting ducks.
Things had not been going too good this patrol, in fact, it was downright depressing, so depressing in fact I just can't be stuffed to give it the usual flare of a write up. So there were were we had just patrolled our AM23 grid and were on our way back down to AM01 for a look round then over to AM52. Weather the whole patrol had been apalling while visibility improved greatly following our patrol of AM23 the sea remained rough and choppy.
On the way out we sank a British Large Cargo ship inbound and she went down in no time. As we pressed further on round the south-western part of southern Ireland, we sighted a lone British Destroyer, it was dark and visibility was not great, we decided to chance it and remain on the surface, the gamble paid off, no diving required they didn't spot us. As we headed up towards AM23 we frequently spent long durations at low revs underwater hoping to ride the storm out, each and every time we neared the surface we were yet again disapointed to find the boat tumbling about as we broke surface.
Morale was getting extremely low, the crew were despondant and easily irritated, truthfully I was not doing too good myself. In short we were nearing AM23 and we happened to detect a Large Cargo on hydrophones. We chased him down and found an outbound ship, the fog was thick but not too thick, we were able to get underwater undetected and we fatally wounded the massive clunker, it soon succumbed to its wounds and sank. Couldn't help but feel guilty for the crew in this kind of weather.
As we patrolled AM23, there was nothing. Not a jot. No radio transmissions from Base, from other U-Boats... nothing. It was like we were the only people left in the world. Our nights consisted of submerged running using hydrophones, and our days were surfaced recharging batteries. Normally you do it the other way about, but at night we couldn't see a thing hardly.
After finishing that little chore we turned south once more. The weather finally began to lift and visibility came back, but, the heavy seas remained. U-101 was bobbing about like nobody's business. How the navigator and the chief kept us on course I will never know. We reached AM52 without hitch, but the sea was still rough, after making a survey of it we found nothing, not a trace. So with the sea being so bad, and showing no sign of improvement, and with crew morale fading, I decided we would head back to Lorient and forgo a look round AM01.
We were on our way home and we sighted a destroyer, feeling excited that it could be lead escort for a convoy we headed to intercept, however luck was not on our side, we had underestimated our position on the earth now and it got light much much quicker. They spotted us and began shelling us. We made a crash dive and found we had been duped, it was a lone ship, just us, and him.
We arrived at 70m and I ordered Silent Running, U-101 was making revolutions for 3 knots, I thought with the sea so rough and all the background noise it would interfere with their hydrophone receivers. I was right, then we heard Asdic. Everybody's heart sank, because we knew then we were in their sights, the pings became more intense less intervals we heard the destroyer coming, we tried changing direction, but it was too late.
The depthcharges fell and impacted all around our stern torpedo room. The rudder mechanism inside briefly jammed, and to make matter worse torpedo tube 5 was rendered inopperative! Water came pouring in through the tube filling up the compartment, quickly damage control was on the case, due to damage to our rudders we had to stop for a moment. The destroyer knew where we were and was coming back for a second bite!
We had sunk by the stern to 80m now, so without further ado I started engines and tried to get out of the way of the charging destroyer, with flooding stopped and just waiting to restore rudders we began at ahead standard, the pings got louder and I ordered a dive. Depth charges dropped.
Yet again he was near his mark. What we had repaired in the stern torpedo may have been for nought. Another barrage started the flooding again, and this time our starboard propellor paid the price the shaft had momentarily jammed as the locks on it engaged! We stopped the other engine as yet again the stern torpedo was taking a beating. Once more we got it under control.
We knew that this guy meant business, he knew what he was doing. Scarily enough. It was time to stop languishing in the shallows and get deeper and to safety. I ordered a dive to 150m and we went down quick at ahead standard, the boat plunged into the depths. Here they came on their third attack run. This should by rights have left us dead, decisively so. They ran straight over the top of us, and dropped depthcharges galore, pointless trying to move out of the way they had dropped so many. I imagined that depth charges were falling down all round us with nowhere to go for us.
Then we heard it, BOOM! followed by another, and another. The depthcharge barrage exploded shallow! The fatal blow, had missed! All the depthcharges exploded above our heads leaving U-101 unscathed down below. Silent speed and silent running were now re-engaged and we slunk off to safety, our would be killer proceeded to pound the spot and immediate vicinity where the depthcharges exploded shallow for another 30 minutes or so till eventually he broke off heading away.
The chief told me the stern tube was out of commission and we were very very fortunate the torpedo in it did not blow up too. I decided we would return to Lorient with due haste. But as we waited for night to fall before surfacing it was as if we were rewarded for surviving a small freeighter was detected on hydrophones. We closed the distance and executed an attack from the still functional forward tubes, one shot to the fuel bunker rendered her in two and down she went.
Following this we returned to Lorient with a lot of dents to our stern end needing to be hammered out. It would be dry dock for U-101 that was for sure. Our total estimated sinking tonnage was a mere 23,000 not a good time for U-101. We were lucky to be alive. I was invited to the club to celebrate, but as a Fraulen Kaleun I did not feel like celebrating using the copious amounts of cigar smoke, and french hookers as an excuse to not going they saw through me because neither had stopped me before.
I just didn't feel like celebrating such a dismal and frankly dangerous patrol. I got the distinct impression that as we neared Christmas 1940. We were no longer shooting sitting ducks.