View Full Version : Battle of the Atlantic (X)
November 1937 (Berlin)
Admiral Erich Raeder frowned with disgust as he watched the presentation being made to to the German High Command, which included Hitler himself. The room was also filled with the rest of the Admiralty of the Kriegsmarine. Raeder took some comfort that some of his fellow admirals were also frowing at the presenter.
"...so as you can see, the current path our navy is taking is one that will only lead to defeat." General Admiral Karl Donitz said to the crowd. There was some outbursts and jeers from the men watching his presentation.
"Silence." whispered the Furher. The room went quiet. "Continue Admiral Donitz."
Dontiz nodded and continued, "If we were to ever face war from Britain and France, our best naval weapon would be the U-Boat. Britain especially is vulnerable to a campaign agaisnt their merchant fleet. By focusing the Kriegsmarine towards the U-Boat, we would be able to immediatly carry out a plan of action if we are ever threatened by British aggression. A plan that would make them think twice about attacking us."
The room was silent, but Raeder knew that his dream of big battleships was gone. The look in the Furher's eyes let him know that Dontiz had captured his imagination with his U-Boat agenda. How could it come to this? Raeder was sure when he was summoned to Berlin last year it was to be promoted to General Admiral of the Kriegsmarine. Instead he was told that Donitz had been given the post. He let out a long sigh and continued to frown.
December 1939 (London)
Winston Chruchhill took a long drink from his glass and set it down on his desk. It was late. He wanted to get some sleep, but his country was at war and it was his job as First Lord of the Admiralty to do his duty. He reached down and picked up the report that was placed on his desk and began to read.
To: First Lord of the Admiralty, Winston Churchhill
Re: Report on the capabilities of the German Navy (Kriegsmarine)
TOP SECRET
This report has found that our navy and government has seriously underestimated the strength of the German Navy. The lack of big surface ships has hidden the fact that under the command of General Admiral Karl Donitz, the Kriegsmarine has take large leaps in regards to submarine warfare. Although we knew this was the focus of Donitz, until now we had no idea to the extent of the success they have achieved.
The most astonishing fact is we now know that the Germans are beginning to put a very advanced Type X boat into service. We were able to capture some blueprints on a prototype of this design, but at this time are still breaking it down. Nonetheless this U-Boat is proof enough that the Kriegsmarine has been planning a war against our merchant fleet for many years. Although most of their U-Boat fleet is made up of Type VII and Type IX designs, it is now clear that the new Type X is the future of the Kriegsmarine.
Also disturbing is the advancements in acoustic homing torpedoes and the refinement of "Sonar" technology. A report with more details on these findings will be presented soon....
Also found....
Chruchhill put the report down and got up to pour another drink.
i am now addicted to Wreford-Browns Type XXI in 39 mod so i decided to write a little story (inspired by Weib Pinguin's writings) on how in an alternate history this could have happened.
More to come.
Late-January 1940 (somewhere in the Atlantic, east of Spain)
Lt. Gordon Beck watched from the bridge of U-111 as the fireball that was once a British merchant burned in the growing distance. It was the fourth merchant that he and his crew had sunk on their first full war patrol on U-111. Beck said a little prayer for the crew under his breath, nodded at his watch officer and climbed below into the bowels of the U-Boat. In the dark of the night the rest of the watch followed him down.
The control room of U-111 was alive with activity. It was just past 2am. Perhaps time for a rest. He hadn't slept since they were just off the coast of Ireland.
"Chief, make your depth 45m. Lets get under this rough water for a few hours. The crew deserves a rest."
A few minutes later, Beck was resting on his bed. He was proud of the crew and his boat. He was proud that he was given command of one of these new Type X boats. He couldn't imagine going back to those Type VII's or Type IX cows that he had sailed on so much before the war. Soon the entire Kriegsmarine U-Boat fleet would be made up of these wonderful vessels. They cut through the ocean like a knife through butter. Silent, deadly and loaded with torpedoes. Beck smiled as he drifted off to sleep.
Dread Knot
02-19-09, 10:01 AM
He couldn't imagine going back to those Type VII's or Type IX cows that he had sailed on so much before the war. Soon the entire Kriegsmarine U-Boat fleet would be made up of these wonderful vessels. They cut through the ocean like a knife through butter. Silent, deadly and loaded with torpedoes. Beck smiled as he drifted off to sleep.
Interesting alternative history gord, but this is reason I quit modding the game to have a Type XXI in 1939. It spoils you rotten for the regular U-Boat fleet. It's hard to go back to 20 minute torpedo reloads and crawling away underwater at 2 knots when you've had the future. It's sort of like having a P-51 Mustang in a World War One aerial battle. You rack up the points but the challenge is gone. Another thing is the career game makes no allowances for what your sleek wunderboots are doing. There is no Operation Sealion or possibility of British surrender and the Allies still come ashore in Normandy in June 1944 no matter how big a dent you've made in Allied shipping.
of course. but i have been playing SH3 for a long time and have tried it all. This is probably my last hurrah with this game. And I am having fun with it so really thats all that matters.
The second point is, I dont really think the "Wunder" U-boats would have prevented Germany's defeat anyways.
Dread Knot
02-19-09, 10:09 AM
In all fairness it is fun to see it how it performs in 1939. :DL It's curious to speculate on what sort of desperate countermeasures the Allies would have had to come up with had it been availiable from the start.
ReallyDedPoet
02-19-09, 10:14 AM
Nice alternative story gord :yep::up: Nothing wrong with having " outside of the box " options playing the game. After all, it's just that, a game.
With regards to the XXI, and what might have happened had it been available earlier, do a search here as the topic has been discussed previously.
Anyway, look forward to more Battle of the Atlantic stories.
thanks RDP. I will check it out. When studying a bit on the pre-war german navy, its interesting to think what would have happened if more people listened to Donitz. He wanted the entire fleet to be U-Boats. If he had his way there would have been 300 U-Boats ready to go by 1939. Of course, Raeder thought he was a coward.
danurve
02-19-09, 10:46 AM
I do enjoy reading WWII fiction here but I digress;
... He couldn't imagine going back to those Type VII's or Type IX cows that he had sailed on so much before the war. .
The VII is not a cow, like the IX sonar magnet.
keep it up Gord96, very interesting and fun WWII fiction read:salute:
Weiss Pinguin
02-19-09, 01:02 PM
Muahahahah, it's catching on :arrgh!: Soon we will have flotillas of Type XXI Wunderboots and nuclear-powered Type IIs with red-triangle targeting computers running around the atlantic!
Still somewhere in the Atlantic
Beck awoke from his sound sleep. That was nice, he thought to himself. He really was tired. His first First Officer, Georg, saw him sit up from his bunk and walked up to him.
"Report..." mumbled Beck.
Georg handed his captain a cup of coffee. "Sir. We are still at 45m. Battery's are at 79%. We have a faint sound contact bearing 030. Will is having trouble keeping a fix on it. I was just coming back to ask if we can increase speed to see if we can find out what we got."
"Aye. Ahead standard. Change course to the last known bearing of the contact."
"Yes sir!" Georg nodded and turned to the control room, shouting out the commands to the crew.
Georg was a good man. He would have his own boat one day too. They hadn't known each other until he was assigned to U-111 under Beck's command, but he quickly showed he was a very smart officer . Smarter then Beck probably. Beck had always figured he himself had mostly got by on his daring and leadership. He didn't think of himself as a "great" naval officer. Oh well, someone thought he knew what he was doing to give him command of U-111....
"Sir. We have the contact. Bearing 025. Most likely a merchant. Long range." came a shout from Will that snapped Beck out of his stupor.
"Adjust course. Ahead full. Come to 30 meters."
Beck took a long drink of coffee, stretched his arms and walked towards the control room.
"Lets get to work..." he said to his crew.
Continued from last post...
"Up periscope."
There she was. A lone little freighter. After a quick pursuit it was now 0600 and through the periscope Beck could see the merchant struggling through the heavy seas. He looked down and thumbed through the identification book.
"Hmmm. Yeah. This is it. A coastal type freighter. Not much tonnage, but we gotta do what we gotta do." Beck said to himself. The boat was directly in front of U-111 at about 1100m, stern swinging wildly in the waves. "Not the best setup for a shot but a good time to test out these new torpedoes."
He looked over at Georg and began to feed him the target info. He thought about trying out the new sonar system that U-111 was equipped with, but decided to do it the old fashioned way. He wanted to see what these acoustic eels could do.
"Ok. Flood tubes 3 & 4. Set both for 8m. Steady. Tube 3......LOS!"
Beck heard and felt the torpedo leave the boat. Just over a minute until impact. The wait went by quick as the eel detonated under the stern of the freighter. A explosion and large fireball soon followed. The crew cheered as Beck watched the boat veer to port.
"Tube 4. Come to 350. Steady. Tube 4.....LOS!"
The second eel left U-111. This one a standard type. The freighter's sharp turn setup the perfect shot.
BOOOOM!! The freight disapeared in a massive explosion. Beck could see sailors and large pieces of the boat fly off into the darkness.
"She was carrying something big Georg. Ammo or bombs perhaps."
Georg nodded. The crew cheered. Beck said a prayer.
"Radio message sir!" came a voice from below. Beck climbed down into the control room and read the paper that the radio operater handed him.
TO: U-111
FROM: BdU
Proceed to Spanish port of Cadiz to rendezvous with German supply ship Thalia.
"Hmmm. I wonder where they are sending us now?" asked Beck to himself. The original plan was to go to a grid just off Freetown. Perhaps with these new orders BdU had something else in mind.
"Surface the boat. Ahead standard. Come to 090."
3 days later....
Beck let the warm water wash over him. This was the life. After spending so much time on the older U-Boat variants where you would go weeks without washing or a shave, the inclusion of a shower on the Type X was a very welcome thing. Almost as welcome as the freezer in the galley. Fresh food was important for crew morale.
The last few hours had been quite exciting. As they made their way towards Cadiz, they picked up a small French convoy on the hyrdophone. After a spirited pursuit they had attacked, sinking a medium cargo vessel and another small merchant. The escort, an armed trawler, was helpless to prevent the sinkings. The pursuit had taken them further out into the Atlantic. After the battle, Beck ordered the boat to snorkel depth to recharge the batteries. Within an hour they picked up another possible convoy. Upon making contact with BdU they were told to scrap Cadiz and pursue the second convoy. Now back at underwater using the snorkel, Beck decided he would have a shower as U-111 closed in.
"Perhaps a scotch will be in order tonight." Beck said to himself.
unterseemann
02-20-09, 05:15 AM
Great story! I really enjoy the read, keep it up
Thanks. Glad you are enjoying it!
10 km from U-111, somewhere in the Atlantic
Phillip took a long drag from the cigarette as he watched the sun finally come out from behind the clouds. The seas had calmed down a bit. Since they left Africa, the Atlantic had been angry. The wind cut through his coat and he turned and walked back inside and up a flight of stairs to the bridge of the freighter Poppy.
"Hello Mr. Shank, I trust your having a comfortable journey." said the old grey haired captain as he saw Phillip approach.
"Yes captain. Besides the rough seas, I am doing fine. I will admit I was never much of a sailor." replied Phillip. "As long as my cargo gets to Brest as soon as possible and in one piece I will be happy."
The captain nodded and went back to looking at the map on the table in front of him. Phillip Shank was a dealer of rare artifacts. He had several operations on the African continent that were digging up all sorts of old treasures. Phillip would then sell them to museums or private collectors for a hefty price. Business had been good lately, until September that is. The outbreak of war had hampered Phillip's abilities to get his goods back to Europe. The heartbreaking loss of several valuable artifacts that went down on a small freighter that was sunk by a German U-Boat in November had been a big hit for him.
"Come to 085. Signal the Stephanie of the change of course." the captain said. The Stephanie was the small freighter that was following the Poppy. The captain looked back at Phillip. "We got an SOS when you were below checking your cargo. A convoy that left a few days ahead of us for Brest was attacked by a U-Boat. A medium cargo vessel like the Poppy was sunk, along with a smaller freighter. I have changed course to put us further away from the attacks."
A chill went down Phillip's spine. He remembered when he was a young man and U-Boats terrorized the seas in the Great War. He wished he was in his flat in Paris, but the possible reward for the cargo this vessel carried was to great to not oversee himself. He had sailed to Morroco a month ago to oversee the final excavation and secure transport back to France. The artifiact would make him a very rich man. A chilling thought then came to Phillip's mind. Was he more worried about losing the cargo? Or his life? He pondered this as the sun began to set on the horizon.
A few hours later...
Phillip poured a cup of coffee and took a seat at a table in the galley of the Poppy. A few crewmen were also in the room, but kept to themselves. It was getting late and the deck was not a pleasant place to be right now. The cold January wind was at its worst tonight. Phillip's mind wandered about, thinking about his cargo, and the wealth he would soon have. He hoped this war would be over soon. Last thing he needed was to be worried about France being attacked as he was trying to enjoy his earnings.....
Phillip looked around. What just happened? He couldnt hear anything. Was he bleeding. Why was the table he was sitting at a second ago, now on top of him.
"AHHOOOOGA! AHHOOOOGA!"
Phillips hearing came rushing back to the point of bursting his ear drums. He stood up. The galley was in shambles. Tables everywhere were overturned. The crewmen were unconscious on the floor as well. He touched his head. It was bleeding. What the.....
Phillip's thoughts were interuppted as the boat shook violently again and sent him flying into the wall. He was able to brace himself and regained his balance and fled towards the door. When he opened it a wave of heat hit him. Fire. All he could see was fire down the corridor. He heard explosions at the far end of the ship. He turned and went towards the other exit. Up a flight of stairs and he was outside on the deck. He didnt even notice the cold. All he saw was the whole rear of the vessel was in flames. Men were scrambling to fight the fire or to run from it.
"Mr. Shank!" came a voice from behind. It was the young first officer of the Poppy. He was walking down the gangway from the bridge. "Please make your way towards the life boats. We may have to abandon ship."
"No! What about my cargo!? We can't abandon it!!" screamed Phillip.
The man walked towards Phillip and looked him in the eye.
"Mr. Shank. We have been torpedoed by a U-Boat. The cargo hold is an inferno. We are trying to keep the boat from sinking but we need to be prepared."
Phillip stared out at the sea. It was very dark. He was all of a sudden scared. The ocean looked cold and very rough.
Boom!
The two men spun to see the Stephanie, the small merchant to the Poppy's port explode into a massive fireball. The boat's deck was completely aflame. Phillip stared in disbelief. Numb. Cold. Scared.
Meanwhile on board U-111....
Beck watched the medium cargo vessel list to starboard in the rough seas. Its stern was burning. There was surely something that was flammable on board. The smaller merchant ship most definitely had something explosive. One torpedo had set off a massive explosion that tore the vessel apart.
"Orders sir?" asked Georg from below.
"Set tube 2 to ten meters. Make ready in all respects." Beck mumbled a prayer. "LOS!"
Just over a minute later the eel detonated under the cargo ship, breaking its keel. Immediately it began to sink, explosions coming from the bowels of the boat as she went down.
"Let's surface. Ahead standard. Ready the watch."
Five minutes later U-111 was cutting through the rough seas, observing the final moments of the two ships. Beck and the first watch officer, a joker of a character named Otto, scanned the wreckages.
"Nothing captain. No lifeboats anywhere. Just wreckage. Some bodies I am afraid are floating in the oil slick." Otto was not in the joking mood now as he reported what he saw.
"True enough. The last torpedo opened this one wide. She broke up pretty quick." Beck reached down and picked up the intercom. "Resume original course. Ahead standard."
Beck took one last look and nodded at Otto before going below to send a report off to BdU.
Beck sat at his desk and read the reply from BdU. With only three eels left and limited fuel, he was ordered to return to Wilhelmshaven. They had netted nearly 29000 tons of enemy shipping. Beck was thrilled at the success of their first combat patrol. Now they just had to get back to Germany in one piece.
"Chief!" Beck yelled towards the control room. "Make our depth 50m. Maintain speed. Its time for a drink."
He reached into his bunks drawer and pulled out a bottle of 15 year old scotch. Beck smiled then head towards the control room.
February 15th, Wilhelmshaven
Leutnant Gordon Beck stood in front of Admiral Donitz. The commander of the Kriegsmarine was reading his patrol report. Finally after a few minutes he leaned back in his chair and looked up at Beck.
"Excellent work Mr. Beck. U-111 did very well. A good showing of what the Type X is capable of. Your a new commander, and there was some doubts about giving you command of a Type X. There was several other commanders in line with more seniority. But I was assured by your mentor, Hinkle, that your aggressive command style would be a good fit for our new boats."
"Thank you Admiral. The Type X and my crew deserves most of the credit."
Donitz waved his hand, "Nonsense. We need commanders that know when to take risks and when perhaps it is truely time to pause. The only way we can show these Brits and Frenchies that we mean business is by being aggressive. Taking it to them."
"Yes sir!"
Donitz stood up and walked right up to Beck. "Leuntant Beck. I like to talk to my commanders face to face. Each one. Just to show them that I am serious about the task at hand. Although you are a younger commander, your age of 31 puts you as an old man in the eyes of new commanders coming up. As we continue to put more and more boats out to see, the commanders will be younger and younger. Set and example they can all follow!"
"Yes sir!"
Donitz walked back to his desk and opened a drawer. He pulled out a box and handed it to Beck.
"Here is an Iron Cross 2nd class. Give it to one of your men that deserves it. Now go and relax. We will need you and U-111 back in action soon."
Later that night
Beck, Georg and Otto sat at a table in Wilma's Beerhouse in downtown Wilhelmshaven. They were well into their fourth round of drinks. The first few days back in port were busy with reports and naval business. This was the first chance the officers had to relax. Young Georg kept staring down at his chest, proud of the Iron Cross pinned to his breast. Beck had given the award, plus many U-Boat Combat Badges, at a crew dinner earlier in the evening. After that the boys went out on the town. The Chief and navigator, both named Helmut, decided to go home to their wives. With an official week of leave, they were boarding trains to wherever they lived. Beck's family and his wife were in Hanover. He was hoping to sneak away in the next few days to see them.
"You earned it Georg. You did a good job out there." Beck said.
"Thank you sir." Georg beamed. Half pride and half beer most likely. "Can't wait to get out there again."
"Bah! Not until I get ten times more women, beer and food in me!" yelled Otto.
Beck's thoughts drifted off to his wife back home. He really hoped he would get to see her soon. It had been over a month since he last saw her.
"Shame about Wilhelm eh Gordon?" asked Otto, interuppting Beck's thoughts.
"Yes. A real shame. A good man."
Wilhelm and the entire crew of U-45 was lost. Sunk by a destroyer in the North Sea. U-45 was a Type VII boat, not as advanced as the Type X. Beck had served with him a few years back on U-18.
"To our fallen..."
The door opened, interrupting a toast Otto was about to make. In walked a young naval attache. He scanned the room, saw Beck and rushed towards him.
"Leuntant Beck. We need you to return to the base now. The commandant needs to speak with you immediatly. I was also told to instruct you to cancel the leave of all your crewmen and officers."
Beck sighed. "Ok. This is really bad timing..."
Otto burst into laughter. "No sh*t!"
"Look alive Georg!" Beck noticed the young officer staring off into space. The beer firmly taking hold. "You need to find all the men. Send for the Helmuts. They are probably both at the train station. Tell them they are to report back to base now. Otto, you help. Ha ha! They won't be happy."
Beck stood up and made his way towards the door, following the young naval officer.
Gibraltar, 2 days later
Brody looked through the cracks of the shutters into the darkness. The feint glow of lamp from the base down the road was the only light. He walked back to the small table in the tiny room. A candle was the only light he would dare have. On the table was some papers and the radio he used to send messages to his superiors in Berlin. His last transmission was yesterday and there was no reply yet. He looked over at the documents and the small crate on the floor. He was almost scared to look at them anymore. What they contained was of such sensitive information, that the British would kill anyone on sight who they think might have stolen them. And that man was Brody.
Voices! Coming down the road. Dogs too. Brody blew the candle out and reached down into his belt and gripped the Luger pistol. They came closer. If they came in he would have to shoot. His radio, his equipment. It would be a dead giveaway. He tucked the documents into his coat and stood in the shadows. The voices walked past. The dogs barking grew quieter. Brody let out a long sigh.
"Damn them. What are they waiting for!?" Brody swore quietly. When he alerted his commanders of his findings they had told him to stay put. Gibraltar was a tight place to sneak in and out of. High security. He could escape on a small boat or make a run for Spain. Each was risky, but as time dragged on he was finding the waiting to be even more risky.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The radio came to life. Brody rushed over. A transmission was inbound. Within a few minutes Brody was busy decoding it. When finished he read it to himself.
"U-Boat on route to extract you. Should arrive within a week. Will make one more transmission when they are within 1 day. Pick-up will be at Windhill Beach. Do what is needed to avoid capture until this time. Escape by land or boat to risky. Over."
Brody sighed and went and layed down on his cot.
Late February, just east of the Channel
Beck checked the map again. They were making good time. Besides the quick sinking of a British cargo ship, they hadn't slowed down at all.
"Georg. I am going to grab some sleep. Maintain course and speed. Wake me when we are near the cliffs of Dover." Beck said.
Georg grinned and nodded. Beck walked to his bunk and sat down at his desk. He had a smaller map laid out there. He traced the route with his finger. Gibraltar eh? Ha! This was going to be interesting. A few days back when he was summoned to see the flotilla commandant, he was immediately ordered to make U-111 ready to sail in all respects in less the 14 hours. She was reloaded with weapons and provisions. Georg and Otto somehow managed to round up the entire crew. Whether all were sober when U-111 left port is a different matter altogether. Before they left, Beck was summoned to a 'Top Secret' briefing. Donitz, the commandant and a few other "spy" looking types were in attendance. It was explained to Beck that it was of vital importance that U-111 get to Gibraltar as fast as possible. Once there, they would have to maneuver towards the eastern approaches and pick up some agent who was carrying some cargo of rather high importance. Last but not least, a small detachment of marines were assigned to travel with U-111 and using a small raft, extract said agent and bring him back to the waiting U-Boat. All in all quite the operation. And of course to save time, they were ordered to go through the Channel. So much for seeing his wife. The Helmuts werent very happy either as they were intercepted at the train station and told to report back to base. As the only Type X ready to depart, even though she just got back to port, U-111 was the only choice. Or so Beck was told.
"Leuntant Beck." it was the commander of the marine detatchment assigned to U-111. "May I have a quick word with you?"
"Of course Leuntant Bricker, what can I do for you? I trust you and your men are comfortable" replied Beck. He hoped they were. The Type X was luxary after spending so many years on a Type II and Type VII.
"Yes. Very much so. Your crew has gone out of their way to make us at home. My question is in regards to the operation itself. How close can U-111 get us to the shoreline?"
"Well. According to the charts, the eastern approaches are not very deep. Within 100m of the beach itself will be less then 20 meters. I cannot bring U-111 into a position where we cannot submerge. I would plan on at least 100m on the raft. If we can find a deeper spot to get you closer we will."
"Understood." nodded the marine. "Thank you captain."
"We are getting close to the Channel. We will go under within the hour and I don't plan on surfacing until we are in the Atlantic. If your men need some fresh air now is the time to get it. Send them up one at a time. After that we will be running on batteries and using the snorkel." Beck explained.
"We will do that. Thank you."
The marine left and Beck put away the map. He put his feet up and pulled his white hat down over his eyes. Sleep would not come easy. This mission would be a true test for the Type X.
really indepth, :yeah:, :rock:, keep it up:arrgh!:
really indepth, :yeah:, :rock:, keep it up:arrgh!:
thanks. glad you like it. :D
i am running this career not really just for tonnage but to try new things and push the XXI to the limit. As said earlier in the early war with the XXI it is quite easy to rack up alot of tonnage. So I am throwing in some side missions as well to keep it interesting and add to the story. I am doing this more for fun then realism. I assure you I play DiD so if one of these crazy ideas goes wrong you will read about u-111's demise. :dead:
Good story, have been using the XXI mod myself is a lot of fun !!:up:
5 hours later
Georg took a look through the periscope then looked back at Beck.
"She's a big one sir. Probably at least 10000 tons." Georg said.
Beck sighed. What to do? They had been in the channel for just over 3 hours. Running at 16m and at 14 kts, they were making excellent time. About a half an hour earlier the hydrophones picked up a contact. Official orders were to make for Gibraltar as quick as possible, avoiding all contact with enemy shipping. However, Donitz did pull Beck aside after the meeting back in Wilhelmshaven and told him that his first priority was always to sink enemy ships. When the hydrophone also reported that the sound of the screws led him to believe it was a large vessel, Beck had to take a look. Now here he was. All ready to shoot. He put his eye to the scope again.
"Tube 1. LOS!"
"Tube 2. LOS!"
The torpedoes left U-111, heading directly towards their target about 1500m away. She was a big cargo ship. Georg was right. Probably over 10000 tons. And her decks were loaded with cargo. He had made the right choice.
BOOM! The first torpedo hit dead on. Beck knew it was enough. Even as the second eel hit, he could see the first explosion had broken the ship's back. Cheers echoed throughout U-111. Beck climbed down to the control room and smiled. He saw Leuntant Bricker in the corner watching with great interest. A few of his marines were also present, entralled with what had just happened.
"Ahead full. Resume previous course."
Beck walked up to Bricker, "She was a big one. To big to pass up. We will get you to Gibraltar soon enough."
Within twenty minutes, the hydrophone picked up multiple warship contacts heading towards the area of the attack. U-111 was long gone and on its way. Beck sitting in the corner of the control room smiled. She was truely a ghost....
EERRRCCHHHCCH!
Beck's blood ran cold as he heard metal scrape against the hull.
"My god." Beck said as he glanced at the Chief. "A damn mine."
The crew's eye's all went wide and Beck said a prayer under his breath.
"Chief, take us to 060. We are too close to the French coast. We got lucky there. Surfac..."
"Captain! Warship contact closing fast. Long range." yelled the hydrophone operator. A man named Otto Tim.
"Damn." Beck knew it was sunny and clear out. Surfacing would risk being spotted. He would just have to hope there were no more mines out there. "Bring speed to standard. Come up to 14m."
Beck stood up and checked the map again. They would try to stay more in the center of the Channel. Coastal waters were more heavily mined. He glanced at the battery. It was down to 50%. Soon they would use the snorkel. Within a day they should be clear of these damn waters. Then the long cruise to Gibraltar.
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