gord96
03-05-09, 01:16 PM
Oct 29.1940
Lt z.s. Gord Hieniken watched in awe as the small coastal freighter erupted into flames. She looked like a torch against the night sky.
"Keep firing Max. Let's put her out of her misery." Gord yelled down to his deck gun crew.
The first shell fired at the freighter as U-45 pursued had hit something very volatile as a large explosion followed and soon the whole deck was engulfed. Within ten minutes, Max and his crew had put enough rounds into the hull to ensure she was going down.
"I would say just a shade under 1500? What do you think Rienhard?" Gord asked his first officer standing behind him.
"I agree." the first officer replied. He was a good officer Rienhard was, but very short and to the point. Came from a proper German family that took its military heritage very seriously. It was a nice balance to Gord's more loose yet diciplined command style.
"My God. I don't think anyone made it off." someone said. It was true. They didnt even know what hit them. U-45 had tracked them for a few hours after picking them up on a routine sound check. When they got close they found themselves chasing her and in a bad postion for a torpedo attack. Gord decided to run full speed ahead and let his crack gun crew try their luck. The sea's were calm and the moon full.
"Say a prayer for them boys." Gord muttered. "Ahead standard. Return to previous course. I'm going below. Relieve the watch."
Below in his bunk, Gord layed down for a short rest. U-45 was on her second combat patrol under his command. They were stationed just west of Gibralter. They had been hunting here for days. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Almost to good to be true as every few hours another lone Brit freighter would emerge from the straights, unescorted and without any sort of weapon. They had sunk five ships in the last two days. Gord figured they had another day or two of this before heading back towards France.
"Radiograms sir." the voice snapped Gord from his thoughts. The young radio operator handed him some papers. Gord sat up.
"Thank you."
He glanced through them. Seems other boats were having good success too. With an estimated thirty thousand tons so far on this patrol Gordo hoped to get his name further up that tonnage chart. He never once thought much of glory as a young officer, but after seeing the praise and celebrity piled on Prien after his raid, Gord was motivated even more the finish his command training and get his own boat. Now here he was. He put the radiograms back down and returned to his pillow. He pulled the white hat over his eyes and soon was asleep, dreaming of the day he recieved the Knights Cross.
Lt z.s. Gord Hieniken watched in awe as the small coastal freighter erupted into flames. She looked like a torch against the night sky.
"Keep firing Max. Let's put her out of her misery." Gord yelled down to his deck gun crew.
The first shell fired at the freighter as U-45 pursued had hit something very volatile as a large explosion followed and soon the whole deck was engulfed. Within ten minutes, Max and his crew had put enough rounds into the hull to ensure she was going down.
"I would say just a shade under 1500? What do you think Rienhard?" Gord asked his first officer standing behind him.
"I agree." the first officer replied. He was a good officer Rienhard was, but very short and to the point. Came from a proper German family that took its military heritage very seriously. It was a nice balance to Gord's more loose yet diciplined command style.
"My God. I don't think anyone made it off." someone said. It was true. They didnt even know what hit them. U-45 had tracked them for a few hours after picking them up on a routine sound check. When they got close they found themselves chasing her and in a bad postion for a torpedo attack. Gord decided to run full speed ahead and let his crack gun crew try their luck. The sea's were calm and the moon full.
"Say a prayer for them boys." Gord muttered. "Ahead standard. Return to previous course. I'm going below. Relieve the watch."
Below in his bunk, Gord layed down for a short rest. U-45 was on her second combat patrol under his command. They were stationed just west of Gibralter. They had been hunting here for days. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Almost to good to be true as every few hours another lone Brit freighter would emerge from the straights, unescorted and without any sort of weapon. They had sunk five ships in the last two days. Gord figured they had another day or two of this before heading back towards France.
"Radiograms sir." the voice snapped Gord from his thoughts. The young radio operator handed him some papers. Gord sat up.
"Thank you."
He glanced through them. Seems other boats were having good success too. With an estimated thirty thousand tons so far on this patrol Gordo hoped to get his name further up that tonnage chart. He never once thought much of glory as a young officer, but after seeing the praise and celebrity piled on Prien after his raid, Gord was motivated even more the finish his command training and get his own boat. Now here he was. He put the radiograms back down and returned to his pillow. He pulled the white hat over his eyes and soon was asleep, dreaming of the day he recieved the Knights Cross.