Rotluchs
10-20-05, 11:44 PM
Thanks to the creators of SH Commander for some background information, www.joebuff.com and the books it sells for some technical information and various WW2 timelines.
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Prologue
Let me first start out by saying that I am not now nor was I ever a “Nazi.” Yes, when it was necessary for one’s career during that period of time starting in the early 1930’s and then when it was necessary for one’s survival through the end of the war, I was a member of the Nazi party, but for no more reason than an American may tick the “Republican” or “Democrat” box on a voter registration card. Let me add that there was only one box for me to tick, and NOT ticking that box had consequences that one could not foresee.
You must remember that in 1930’s and 1940’s Germany, we did not have the same freedom that is enjoyed today. On occasion, you did things that you did not necessarily believe in because you loved your country, not the party running it. I am not making excuses for the behavior of the Nazi’s; I am merely telling you I was a patriot to the Fatherland. My grandmother was half Jewish. Please excuse my digression but I wanted to get that part out of the way before sharing with you my experiences while in command of a U-boat during the early days of the war.
For a bit of a background on me, I was born on February 21, 1913 to Joachim and Else Rotluchs. I was the oldest of 3 boys. Our father was a machinist at a sheet metal fabrication plant outside the city. We were not rich, but our father made enough for us to live a comfortable life. He was a harsh disciplinarian who expected superb marks from all of us in school and we all have memories of red bottoms and time spent sitting in a corner with a book studying after bringing home poor marks.
During the First World War we all had to tighten our belts a bit. Fortunately, my father was too old and too skilled in his job to be sent to the front and I, less than 10, was too young, even for the Kaiser. I remember the parades of troops through the streets of Berlin and the stories of heroism and daring feats on the seas of the North Atlantic by courageous U-boat crews and their captains. It was during this period that I first gained an interest in the military. Now, some will say all boys have a fascination with the profession of arms… the uniforms, equipment and larger-than-life stories, but I was different. From then on, even through the tragedy that was the Versailles treaty, I was committed to serving my Fatherland.
On April 1st, 1934 I joined the Kriegsmarine. I was 21 years old. Adolf Hitler had been in absolute power for just about one year. At the time, he was seen as a savior by many… a man who was bringing Germany out of an economic depression and restoring her to her rightful place in the world. Because of my schooling and grades, I was selected for the officer corps and before I knew it, I was caught up in learning the ways of undersea warfare in classrooms, in crude simulators and at sea.
The now vividly clear events of the years 1934-1938 – Hitler violating Versailles by introducing conscription, the German occupation of the Rhineland, Anschluss, the occupation of the Sudetenland, Kristallnacht, all went by me in a blur. I was caught up in my own service as a Seekadet, Fahnrich, Leutnant, and so on until September 23, 1938, when I was selected to attend U-boat commanders training. I, as the rest of my class, was very young. Of course, we all thought we were supermen… the future of the Kriegsmarine… the best and the brightest. Only part of this was true. We were the future, but we were harvested from the ranks with only the slightest hint of actual qualifications because high command knew it would soon need to fill out wolf packs in the North Atlantic with U-boats, and we would bring those boats to bear on an enemy we did not know we had.
Upon completion of the commander’s course, I reported to my first command, a Type VIIB U-boat with sail number U-46 based in Kiel. War was on the horizon, but none of us knew how close. The members of my graduating commander’s class looked forward to several months with our crews, learning their behaviors, training them, imparting the knowledge we had learned over our own several years in the Kriegsmarine. When I reported to my Flotilla commanding officer in Kiel, he told me the date of my 1st patrol – September 1, 1939. I had just 3 days before I put to see in command of my own U-boat.
Patrol 1
My first patrol as a Captain of the U-46 started in a very startling way. I woke up to the radio reporting that a Polish army unit had attacked a German radio station at Gliwitz and in response, elements of the Wermacht and Luftwaffe were currently moving Eastward through Poland. I, as much as anyone, knew that a few days before Britain had signed a Mutual Assistance Treaty with Poland. It dawned on me war with England could not be far behind. In fact, the war had been planned since the secret 1937 Hossbach conference held at the Reich Chancellery at which time Hitler announced his war plans to a select group of higher-up’s.
I had met my boat and crew in the preceding couple of days. My executive officer, erster watch-offizier in German, or first watch officer, often referred to by navy slang for 1WO – einzvo – was on the deck waiting for me. He was a large man, almost too large for the ubootwaffe, but was unquestioningly good at his job.
Oberleutnant Philipp Emmrich held qualifications as a watchman, medic and helmsman. His thick, brown full head of hair gave him the appearance of a lion when his beard started to come in on patrols, something that the men on the boat would come to respect and fear. When I approached the U-46 around 8AM on the 1st to get underway, the einzvo was already there, cracking the whip over the men who had been living on board for the last several nights. He came to attention when he saw me and snapped a very professional salute, giving me a hearty, “Welcome aboard, sir!”
What I remember most about September 1st, 1939 was that it was a day of great pride for me. My first command. I can recall the smell of salty fish air mixed with the diesel, grease and sweat of the U-boat pens at Kiel as I walked across the plank and onto the deck of my boat for the first time. Of course, the invasion of Poland was on my mind at the time, but pushed back into the recesses of my brain.
I returned the einzvo’s customary gesture with a salute and a curt, “Danke, einzvo”, and commenced to preparing my boat to sail. I knew I would not have months to evaluate and train my men before war came and the lives of them all were on my shoulders.
Getting Under Way
After the usual housekeeping when I first came on board, we were ready to put to sea. It was our first patrol into open water as a crew, not just tooling around the Kieler Bucht, drilling and practicing emergency procedures like we had been the last two days. I was confident that the men had all the training they could have been given and I was confident that the U-46 was in the best shape possible.
At 0953 AM I ordered the helmsman ahead one-third on a NE course out of Kiel, up through the Kieler Bucht, then West towards the North Sea. It was only a matter of minutes, 1038 in my log, when the hydrophone operator called out a contact, moving NE at long range. I ordered the crew to general quarters, using this contact as a good time to drill the men. Their performance was satisfactory, but would need to get better if we were going to eventually sweep the Atlantic clean of British shipping. A few minutes later we passed our “contact”, a Schnellboot, fast attack craft, on patrol. The Schnellboot’s crew waved and cheered as we motored past. The watch team on deck waved back. I think some of them were envious of the Schnellboot. They knew the gefreiter and bootsmann of the crew would be back in Kiel tonight and we would still be steaming west.
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. We had a fleeting glimpse of land to our north and south throughout the day. Around 1740 the hydrophone operator called out another contact, this time a merchant vessel. Again we went to general quarters and ran simulated torpedo runs on the neutral vessel. When we surfaced about 100 yards off the port side of the Norwegian-flagged vessel traveling parallel with its course, some of the crew looked startled. Some cheered; others turned away and went about their business. I could have sworn I saw the Captain in the bridge turn a ghostly shade of white. Perhaps the reality of the way the world was heading just hit home with the sudden appearance of a Kriegsmarine U-boot off his port quarter.
The night went by without so much as a whales song on the hydrophone. At about 2046 in the evening of September 2nd, we picked up another merchant, heading north. This one was also neutral. I chose not to commense a drill this time. We had just crossed into the North Sea and the waves were picking up. Wind was coming at us at 15kph and the deck was awash. I wanted the crew on watch focused and sharp. I went below to try and sleep.
I woke up to an ear-splitting bell and the einzvo screaming “ALARM!” at the top of his lungs. I glanced at my watch, 0520AM, September 3.
I bounded out of my cabin and into the control room a few steps away, “Einzvo, report!”
Emmrich glanced over at me. “Unknown contact, bearing 090, speed slow, running parallel to us, very close. We did not pick him up sooner due to the weather. We are at periscope depth”.
I stepped up to the periscope and hit the hydraulic switch to raise it. As soon as the eye piece was about waist level, I bent over and glued my eye to it. I was looking 90 degrees off the ship’s bow, to my north. As waves peaked and toughed, I caught a glimpse of the ship, a C2 cargo ship with a Norwegian flag. Not a threat or potential threat.
I turned to the einzvo, “Secure from general quarters. Set normal watch.” The day moved along slowly with the ship pitching and rolling, straining to stay on course with the North Sea intent on pushing us this way and that.
At 1331 the chief radioman, Stabsbootsmann Joachim Altmeier, poked his head out from the cube where his radio sat. His thick Bavarian accent boomed into the control room, “Sir, receiving a message from fleet. Decoding now.” The man’s head disappeared back into his cube and all that came out was clicking of the decoding machine as he typed.
I thanked the Stabsbootsmann, telling him to bring the message to me in my cabin when it was done. In not five minutes, the message was on my desk. Although I knew it was coming, I could not believe what I saw. “Mein Gott”.
I called the navigator for a current position. According to him, we were heading WNW between Norway and Britain, moving towards our assigned patrol area off the coast of Norway. I stormed into the control room. “ALL STOP!”
When I had everyone’s attention, I read the message from fleet command to the crew. My voice almost broke several times as I read. I struggled to maintain my composure as the leader of this crew.
“From: Commander, Kriegsmarien North - To: All U-boats currently at sea. - Commence hostilities against Britain forthwith. Chamberlain declares war on Germany at 1100 hours local time today. Proceed to new patrol zone AM 24. Remain on station for 24 hours. Return to port, Kiel, Germany. Prosecute all hostile contacts en route, on station and during return cruise.”
The message was longer, showing me how confident command was in the continued secrecy of our codes. The whole of Chamberlain’s declaration was attached. I told the crew I would pin it up in the enlisted men’s head and everyone should make it a point to read over it while contemplating life. I also had Altmeier type up a copy for the wardroom.
Chamberlain’s words read as follows:
I am speaking to you from the Cabinet Room at 10, Downing Street.
This morning the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German Government a final note stating that unless we heard from them by 11.00 a.m. that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us.
I have to tell you that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany.
You can imagine what a bitter blow it is to me that all my long struggle to win peace has failed. Yet I cannot believe that there is anything more or anything different I could have done and that would have been more successful.
Up to the very last it would have been quite possible to have arranged a peaceful and honorable settlement between Germany and Poland, but Hitler would not have it.
He had evidently made up his mind to attack Poland whatever happened; and although he now says he has put forward reasonable proposals which were rejected by the Poles, that is not a true statement.
The proposals were never shown to the Poles nor to us; and although they were announced in a German broadcast on Thursday night, Hitler did not wait to make comment on them, but ordered his troops to cross the Polish frontier.
His actions show convincingly that there is no chance of expecting that this man will ever give up his practice of using force to gain his will. He can only be stopped by force.
We and France are today, in fulfillment of our obligations, going to the aid of Poland, who is so bravely resisting this wicked and unprovoked attack on her people. We have a clear conscience. We have done all that any country could do to establish peace. The situation in which no word given to Germany’s ruler could be trusted and no people or country could feel themselves safe has become intolerable.
And now that we have resolved to finish it, I know that you will play your part with calmness and courage.
At such a moment as this the assurances of support that we have received from the Empire are a source of profound encouragement to us.
When I have finished speaking certain detailed announcements will be made on behalf of the Government. Give these your closest attention.
The Government have made plans under which it will be possible to carry on the work of the nation in the days of stress and strain that may be ahead. But these plans need your help.
You may be taking part in the fighting Services or as a volunteer in one of the branches of civil defence. If so you will report for duty in accordance with the instructions you have received.
You may be engaged in work essential to the prosecution of war for the maintenance of the life of the people – in factories, in transport, in public utility concerns or in the supply of other necessaries of life. If so, it is of vital importance that you should carry on with your jobs.
Now may God bless you all. May He defend the right. It is the evil things that we shall be fighting against – brute force, bad faith, injustice, oppression and persecution – and against them I am certain that the right will prevail."
“Rubbish, propaganda” I thought then to myself, and perhaps out loud. I don’t remember. I turned to the navigator, Oberfahnrich z. S. Udo Hartenstein. “How far to patrol grid AM 24?”
Hartenstein looked down at his chart, “Four days sir, standard surface speed, due West. We’ll pass the north of England and Scotland and the ports of Loch Ewe and Scapa Flow en route”.
I thought for a moment. Scapa Flow was a huge English naval base. That could prove interesting. “Einzvo, you have the con. Make your course 270, ahead Standard. Ill be in the wardroom”. What had started out as a patrol to an uninteresting corner of Norway had turned into my, and the U-46’s, first war patrol of this new conflict.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Prologue
Let me first start out by saying that I am not now nor was I ever a “Nazi.” Yes, when it was necessary for one’s career during that period of time starting in the early 1930’s and then when it was necessary for one’s survival through the end of the war, I was a member of the Nazi party, but for no more reason than an American may tick the “Republican” or “Democrat” box on a voter registration card. Let me add that there was only one box for me to tick, and NOT ticking that box had consequences that one could not foresee.
You must remember that in 1930’s and 1940’s Germany, we did not have the same freedom that is enjoyed today. On occasion, you did things that you did not necessarily believe in because you loved your country, not the party running it. I am not making excuses for the behavior of the Nazi’s; I am merely telling you I was a patriot to the Fatherland. My grandmother was half Jewish. Please excuse my digression but I wanted to get that part out of the way before sharing with you my experiences while in command of a U-boat during the early days of the war.
For a bit of a background on me, I was born on February 21, 1913 to Joachim and Else Rotluchs. I was the oldest of 3 boys. Our father was a machinist at a sheet metal fabrication plant outside the city. We were not rich, but our father made enough for us to live a comfortable life. He was a harsh disciplinarian who expected superb marks from all of us in school and we all have memories of red bottoms and time spent sitting in a corner with a book studying after bringing home poor marks.
During the First World War we all had to tighten our belts a bit. Fortunately, my father was too old and too skilled in his job to be sent to the front and I, less than 10, was too young, even for the Kaiser. I remember the parades of troops through the streets of Berlin and the stories of heroism and daring feats on the seas of the North Atlantic by courageous U-boat crews and their captains. It was during this period that I first gained an interest in the military. Now, some will say all boys have a fascination with the profession of arms… the uniforms, equipment and larger-than-life stories, but I was different. From then on, even through the tragedy that was the Versailles treaty, I was committed to serving my Fatherland.
On April 1st, 1934 I joined the Kriegsmarine. I was 21 years old. Adolf Hitler had been in absolute power for just about one year. At the time, he was seen as a savior by many… a man who was bringing Germany out of an economic depression and restoring her to her rightful place in the world. Because of my schooling and grades, I was selected for the officer corps and before I knew it, I was caught up in learning the ways of undersea warfare in classrooms, in crude simulators and at sea.
The now vividly clear events of the years 1934-1938 – Hitler violating Versailles by introducing conscription, the German occupation of the Rhineland, Anschluss, the occupation of the Sudetenland, Kristallnacht, all went by me in a blur. I was caught up in my own service as a Seekadet, Fahnrich, Leutnant, and so on until September 23, 1938, when I was selected to attend U-boat commanders training. I, as the rest of my class, was very young. Of course, we all thought we were supermen… the future of the Kriegsmarine… the best and the brightest. Only part of this was true. We were the future, but we were harvested from the ranks with only the slightest hint of actual qualifications because high command knew it would soon need to fill out wolf packs in the North Atlantic with U-boats, and we would bring those boats to bear on an enemy we did not know we had.
Upon completion of the commander’s course, I reported to my first command, a Type VIIB U-boat with sail number U-46 based in Kiel. War was on the horizon, but none of us knew how close. The members of my graduating commander’s class looked forward to several months with our crews, learning their behaviors, training them, imparting the knowledge we had learned over our own several years in the Kriegsmarine. When I reported to my Flotilla commanding officer in Kiel, he told me the date of my 1st patrol – September 1, 1939. I had just 3 days before I put to see in command of my own U-boat.
Patrol 1
My first patrol as a Captain of the U-46 started in a very startling way. I woke up to the radio reporting that a Polish army unit had attacked a German radio station at Gliwitz and in response, elements of the Wermacht and Luftwaffe were currently moving Eastward through Poland. I, as much as anyone, knew that a few days before Britain had signed a Mutual Assistance Treaty with Poland. It dawned on me war with England could not be far behind. In fact, the war had been planned since the secret 1937 Hossbach conference held at the Reich Chancellery at which time Hitler announced his war plans to a select group of higher-up’s.
I had met my boat and crew in the preceding couple of days. My executive officer, erster watch-offizier in German, or first watch officer, often referred to by navy slang for 1WO – einzvo – was on the deck waiting for me. He was a large man, almost too large for the ubootwaffe, but was unquestioningly good at his job.
Oberleutnant Philipp Emmrich held qualifications as a watchman, medic and helmsman. His thick, brown full head of hair gave him the appearance of a lion when his beard started to come in on patrols, something that the men on the boat would come to respect and fear. When I approached the U-46 around 8AM on the 1st to get underway, the einzvo was already there, cracking the whip over the men who had been living on board for the last several nights. He came to attention when he saw me and snapped a very professional salute, giving me a hearty, “Welcome aboard, sir!”
What I remember most about September 1st, 1939 was that it was a day of great pride for me. My first command. I can recall the smell of salty fish air mixed with the diesel, grease and sweat of the U-boat pens at Kiel as I walked across the plank and onto the deck of my boat for the first time. Of course, the invasion of Poland was on my mind at the time, but pushed back into the recesses of my brain.
I returned the einzvo’s customary gesture with a salute and a curt, “Danke, einzvo”, and commenced to preparing my boat to sail. I knew I would not have months to evaluate and train my men before war came and the lives of them all were on my shoulders.
Getting Under Way
After the usual housekeeping when I first came on board, we were ready to put to sea. It was our first patrol into open water as a crew, not just tooling around the Kieler Bucht, drilling and practicing emergency procedures like we had been the last two days. I was confident that the men had all the training they could have been given and I was confident that the U-46 was in the best shape possible.
At 0953 AM I ordered the helmsman ahead one-third on a NE course out of Kiel, up through the Kieler Bucht, then West towards the North Sea. It was only a matter of minutes, 1038 in my log, when the hydrophone operator called out a contact, moving NE at long range. I ordered the crew to general quarters, using this contact as a good time to drill the men. Their performance was satisfactory, but would need to get better if we were going to eventually sweep the Atlantic clean of British shipping. A few minutes later we passed our “contact”, a Schnellboot, fast attack craft, on patrol. The Schnellboot’s crew waved and cheered as we motored past. The watch team on deck waved back. I think some of them were envious of the Schnellboot. They knew the gefreiter and bootsmann of the crew would be back in Kiel tonight and we would still be steaming west.
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. We had a fleeting glimpse of land to our north and south throughout the day. Around 1740 the hydrophone operator called out another contact, this time a merchant vessel. Again we went to general quarters and ran simulated torpedo runs on the neutral vessel. When we surfaced about 100 yards off the port side of the Norwegian-flagged vessel traveling parallel with its course, some of the crew looked startled. Some cheered; others turned away and went about their business. I could have sworn I saw the Captain in the bridge turn a ghostly shade of white. Perhaps the reality of the way the world was heading just hit home with the sudden appearance of a Kriegsmarine U-boot off his port quarter.
The night went by without so much as a whales song on the hydrophone. At about 2046 in the evening of September 2nd, we picked up another merchant, heading north. This one was also neutral. I chose not to commense a drill this time. We had just crossed into the North Sea and the waves were picking up. Wind was coming at us at 15kph and the deck was awash. I wanted the crew on watch focused and sharp. I went below to try and sleep.
I woke up to an ear-splitting bell and the einzvo screaming “ALARM!” at the top of his lungs. I glanced at my watch, 0520AM, September 3.
I bounded out of my cabin and into the control room a few steps away, “Einzvo, report!”
Emmrich glanced over at me. “Unknown contact, bearing 090, speed slow, running parallel to us, very close. We did not pick him up sooner due to the weather. We are at periscope depth”.
I stepped up to the periscope and hit the hydraulic switch to raise it. As soon as the eye piece was about waist level, I bent over and glued my eye to it. I was looking 90 degrees off the ship’s bow, to my north. As waves peaked and toughed, I caught a glimpse of the ship, a C2 cargo ship with a Norwegian flag. Not a threat or potential threat.
I turned to the einzvo, “Secure from general quarters. Set normal watch.” The day moved along slowly with the ship pitching and rolling, straining to stay on course with the North Sea intent on pushing us this way and that.
At 1331 the chief radioman, Stabsbootsmann Joachim Altmeier, poked his head out from the cube where his radio sat. His thick Bavarian accent boomed into the control room, “Sir, receiving a message from fleet. Decoding now.” The man’s head disappeared back into his cube and all that came out was clicking of the decoding machine as he typed.
I thanked the Stabsbootsmann, telling him to bring the message to me in my cabin when it was done. In not five minutes, the message was on my desk. Although I knew it was coming, I could not believe what I saw. “Mein Gott”.
I called the navigator for a current position. According to him, we were heading WNW between Norway and Britain, moving towards our assigned patrol area off the coast of Norway. I stormed into the control room. “ALL STOP!”
When I had everyone’s attention, I read the message from fleet command to the crew. My voice almost broke several times as I read. I struggled to maintain my composure as the leader of this crew.
“From: Commander, Kriegsmarien North - To: All U-boats currently at sea. - Commence hostilities against Britain forthwith. Chamberlain declares war on Germany at 1100 hours local time today. Proceed to new patrol zone AM 24. Remain on station for 24 hours. Return to port, Kiel, Germany. Prosecute all hostile contacts en route, on station and during return cruise.”
The message was longer, showing me how confident command was in the continued secrecy of our codes. The whole of Chamberlain’s declaration was attached. I told the crew I would pin it up in the enlisted men’s head and everyone should make it a point to read over it while contemplating life. I also had Altmeier type up a copy for the wardroom.
Chamberlain’s words read as follows:
I am speaking to you from the Cabinet Room at 10, Downing Street.
This morning the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German Government a final note stating that unless we heard from them by 11.00 a.m. that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us.
I have to tell you that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany.
You can imagine what a bitter blow it is to me that all my long struggle to win peace has failed. Yet I cannot believe that there is anything more or anything different I could have done and that would have been more successful.
Up to the very last it would have been quite possible to have arranged a peaceful and honorable settlement between Germany and Poland, but Hitler would not have it.
He had evidently made up his mind to attack Poland whatever happened; and although he now says he has put forward reasonable proposals which were rejected by the Poles, that is not a true statement.
The proposals were never shown to the Poles nor to us; and although they were announced in a German broadcast on Thursday night, Hitler did not wait to make comment on them, but ordered his troops to cross the Polish frontier.
His actions show convincingly that there is no chance of expecting that this man will ever give up his practice of using force to gain his will. He can only be stopped by force.
We and France are today, in fulfillment of our obligations, going to the aid of Poland, who is so bravely resisting this wicked and unprovoked attack on her people. We have a clear conscience. We have done all that any country could do to establish peace. The situation in which no word given to Germany’s ruler could be trusted and no people or country could feel themselves safe has become intolerable.
And now that we have resolved to finish it, I know that you will play your part with calmness and courage.
At such a moment as this the assurances of support that we have received from the Empire are a source of profound encouragement to us.
When I have finished speaking certain detailed announcements will be made on behalf of the Government. Give these your closest attention.
The Government have made plans under which it will be possible to carry on the work of the nation in the days of stress and strain that may be ahead. But these plans need your help.
You may be taking part in the fighting Services or as a volunteer in one of the branches of civil defence. If so you will report for duty in accordance with the instructions you have received.
You may be engaged in work essential to the prosecution of war for the maintenance of the life of the people – in factories, in transport, in public utility concerns or in the supply of other necessaries of life. If so, it is of vital importance that you should carry on with your jobs.
Now may God bless you all. May He defend the right. It is the evil things that we shall be fighting against – brute force, bad faith, injustice, oppression and persecution – and against them I am certain that the right will prevail."
“Rubbish, propaganda” I thought then to myself, and perhaps out loud. I don’t remember. I turned to the navigator, Oberfahnrich z. S. Udo Hartenstein. “How far to patrol grid AM 24?”
Hartenstein looked down at his chart, “Four days sir, standard surface speed, due West. We’ll pass the north of England and Scotland and the ports of Loch Ewe and Scapa Flow en route”.
I thought for a moment. Scapa Flow was a huge English naval base. That could prove interesting. “Einzvo, you have the con. Make your course 270, ahead Standard. Ill be in the wardroom”. What had started out as a patrol to an uninteresting corner of Norway had turned into my, and the U-46’s, first war patrol of this new conflict.