Weiss Pinguin
01-02-09, 09:47 PM
From the logs of U-48...
'October 7th, 1939:
We have finally squeezed U-48 onto the tally board, with a measly 2700 tons. It could be worse, I suppose.
It was on the afternoon of October 5th, on our return leg. Helmut spotted it first, the telltale smoke from a steamer several miles off. KptLt. Schnapp ordered a dive to periscope depth, where our hydrophones picked up the merchant to the east. We proceeded in that direction at flank speed for several minutes, before we stopped to listen.
"Mein Gott!" Herbert quietly yelled out from the hydrophone station, "She's right on top of us!"
"You've probably got the volume control turned all the way up," I pointed out as Schnapp raised the periscope. Herbert had always had incredibly sensitive ears. He was also quite excitable.
"Ja, she's got to be almost a thousand meters out still," Willi confirmed through the scope.
"Kruger," Willi called to me, "Get a solution worked out." With that he began bombarding Heinrich (The navigator, who is quite good at math), Gunther (The watchman, who is not), and I (I am talented at sleeping, or so I am told) with targeting information.
Several minutes later tubes two and four were open, with our two electric eels set to run at 1 meter. Our steam torpedoes were also ready, in case the electrics spontaneously combusted or decided to try punching through the enemy's paper-thin hull.
"Los!" cried the captain, and with a dramatic wave of his hand the eels lept from their tubes like two giant steel blobs of toothpaste from a pair of toothpaste, err, thingies. We anxiously watched the timer count down as Schnapp stared through the periscope. Suddenly a deafening explosion defeaned us, as if a giant firecracker had spontanously combusted a thousand meters away. Willi stepped back from the periscope and blinked to clear his eyes.
"Heinrich, excellent work on that solution," Willi said as he lowered the periscope. "That was the biggest explosion I've seen since I was a child, when I discovered why matches do not go into the family car. Now then! Surface the boat, there may be survivors."
As we stood on the conning tower, we saw that the boat had sunk like a stone during the time it took for us to surface. Only a tattered Red Ensign remained on the surface to mark the freighter's graveyard. The Nordsee had claimed another ship.
The crew was very quiet for the rest of the day, but by the time we reached port early the next day, the story had been passed around and embellished a good deal. I noted that by the next day it was I who had drawn up the enormously complicated calculations needed to launch our salvo of eels at the heavily armed British warship we sank. Not that I am complaining, although an actual British warship would have been quite excellent.
Anyways, we are safe in port now, and headed out for some celebrating.'
(To paraphrase, I have scored my first kill with GWX 3.0! As you can see I am happy enough to write up a story lol)
'October 7th, 1939:
We have finally squeezed U-48 onto the tally board, with a measly 2700 tons. It could be worse, I suppose.
It was on the afternoon of October 5th, on our return leg. Helmut spotted it first, the telltale smoke from a steamer several miles off. KptLt. Schnapp ordered a dive to periscope depth, where our hydrophones picked up the merchant to the east. We proceeded in that direction at flank speed for several minutes, before we stopped to listen.
"Mein Gott!" Herbert quietly yelled out from the hydrophone station, "She's right on top of us!"
"You've probably got the volume control turned all the way up," I pointed out as Schnapp raised the periscope. Herbert had always had incredibly sensitive ears. He was also quite excitable.
"Ja, she's got to be almost a thousand meters out still," Willi confirmed through the scope.
"Kruger," Willi called to me, "Get a solution worked out." With that he began bombarding Heinrich (The navigator, who is quite good at math), Gunther (The watchman, who is not), and I (I am talented at sleeping, or so I am told) with targeting information.
Several minutes later tubes two and four were open, with our two electric eels set to run at 1 meter. Our steam torpedoes were also ready, in case the electrics spontaneously combusted or decided to try punching through the enemy's paper-thin hull.
"Los!" cried the captain, and with a dramatic wave of his hand the eels lept from their tubes like two giant steel blobs of toothpaste from a pair of toothpaste, err, thingies. We anxiously watched the timer count down as Schnapp stared through the periscope. Suddenly a deafening explosion defeaned us, as if a giant firecracker had spontanously combusted a thousand meters away. Willi stepped back from the periscope and blinked to clear his eyes.
"Heinrich, excellent work on that solution," Willi said as he lowered the periscope. "That was the biggest explosion I've seen since I was a child, when I discovered why matches do not go into the family car. Now then! Surface the boat, there may be survivors."
As we stood on the conning tower, we saw that the boat had sunk like a stone during the time it took for us to surface. Only a tattered Red Ensign remained on the surface to mark the freighter's graveyard. The Nordsee had claimed another ship.
The crew was very quiet for the rest of the day, but by the time we reached port early the next day, the story had been passed around and embellished a good deal. I noted that by the next day it was I who had drawn up the enormously complicated calculations needed to launch our salvo of eels at the heavily armed British warship we sank. Not that I am complaining, although an actual British warship would have been quite excellent.
Anyways, we are safe in port now, and headed out for some celebrating.'
(To paraphrase, I have scored my first kill with GWX 3.0! As you can see I am happy enough to write up a story lol)