DanBiddle
09-19-06, 03:13 PM
This is my first patrol report, and I'm pretty new to the game, so go easy on me here guys. I play at 55% realism at the moment, and after I've finished this career I'll probably increase it a little more. I'm using GW1.1a and SubCommander. Here goes with the report...
************************************************** ***************
Leutnant zur See Georg Ambach scanned the horizon through his heavy Zeiss binoculars. Nothing. Nothing at all. Despite the clear weather and excellent visibility, there was absolutely no sign of any smoke on the horizon. Ambach was the Commander of U-24, a Type IIA German U-boat of the 1st Flotilla. Based in Wilhelmshaven, this was his 8th patrol of the war, and he had been in command of U-24 since September ’39. Today was the 28th April, 1940, and Ambach and his crew of 27 had been at sea for a week. Currently, they were patrolling grid square AN26, and were about 200km south of the Shetlands. This was a busy traffic corridor normally, but U-24 had neither seen nor heard any sign of the enemy since the patrol started.
Ambach stamped his feet on the deck and rubbed his gloved hands together sharply. Despite the season, it was unusually cold this morning, and the sun hadn’t quite risen enough to warm the watch crew yet.
“Clear the bridge. Diving stations!” Ambach announced suddenly, startling the watch crew into action. As the last man headed below, Ambach climbed down the ladder and shut the hatch behind him, locking it tight. He climbed further down the ladder, and into the control room. The watch crew looked up as he stepped off the ladder – more faces were crowding into the control room as well, interested to see what was happening.
“Take her down to 30 metres, Chief”
“Jawohl, Herr Kaleun!”
As the boat moved slowly deeper, Ambach headed forward to the Sound compartment, where Jurgen was listening on the Hydrophones. Jurgen spun the dial steadily around in a full circle, his eyes shut tight in concentration, before he looked up at Ambach,
“No sound contacts, Herr Kaleun. All is quiet, sir.”
Ambach stood quickly and walked back into the control room. He muttered under his breath, seemingly oblivious to the looks his crew were giving him. He stood over the chart for a few minutes, working the dividers, before looking up. It seemed he had come to a decision. He looked around for the Navigator, Lange.
“Hermann, come right to course 310, maintain 30 metres and slow ahead. Let’s see if there are any further inshore.”
He stood back, his face passive once more as he watched the crew turning the boat, before heading off to his little cabin beside the control room. The curtain drew sharply back, and the crew were free to exchange glances.
“He’s certainly in a mood, Chief,” the Second Watch Officer commented, “He seems to be having rotten luck at the moment.”
“It’ll change,” remarked the Chief, “He didn’t get those medals for nothing.”
“I hope so, he’ll crack up if we keep having patrols like the last one”
Ambach lay on his bunk, frustrated. He could hear the murmurs of the watch crew, and could guess at what they were talking about. Despite an excellent first couple of patrols, his luck had seemed to dry up recently. His last patrol had been a washout, only one ship sank, a neutral, she hadn’t displayed her flag until after Ambach had blasted a couple of fish into her – and since when did Danish ships have names like S.S. Pacific Reliance anyway?! That was the only ship sunk on that patrol – 5535 tons – and after that they’d been surprised on the surface by a couple of Clemson destroyers – it was only by luck that they’d escaped with the damage they’d got. U-24 had limped back into port scarred and blackened from an eight hour battle with the destroyers, and had eventually managed to escape by trailing a fishing boat heading out of Hull.
He didn’t think this was an unlucky boat, but it was damned frustrating to be stuck in his little einbaum whilst Prien and the others were out making a name for themselves. He didn’t think much of the tonnage war, but was certainly pissed off at being near the bottom on 40,000 tons. Ambach lay back and listened to the soft hum of the electric motors, and sighed before shutting his eyes.
************************************************** **********************
The Officer’s mess was crowded again for supper. The meal wasn’t particularly tasty, but it was free, they were warm, mostly dry. They even had wood paneling! Fritz Siemons, the Chief of the Boat, twirled his fork aimlessly through the meat and potatoes, whilst others just stared vacantly. Ambach was looking at the radioman, who seemed to be taking down a message. They had traveled a hundred kilometers east overnight, and were hoping to catch some traffic heading for the Norway campaign, where the Wermacht were doing well against the Tommies.
“Radio message, Herr Kaleun!” the radioman announced.
“See to it, Number One, if you please”
The First Watch Officer was responsible for decrypting the radio messages they received from BdU headquarters. He immediately got to work as Ambach wondered what was in store for them. Presently, Mayer, the First Watch Officer handed it over. Ambach steadied it in his hand as he read the decoded message.
From BdU Headquarters to U-24, U-9, U-65
Contact Report
63º20’59”N 8º16’27”E
Small Convoy heading inland for Trondheim. Intercept if able.
Ambach stood quickly and walked briskly into the control room, before leaning over the chart table and pulling his dividers out. He was unconscious to the rest of the officers crowding after him. After a few moments of quick calculation, he called out for Lange, the Navigator to come through.
“Lay a course for Norway; I want to be at this position,” he pointed to the message, “in 4 days.”
“Jawohl, Herr Kaleun, plotting course, sir!”
Ambach stood and looked around the control room. Picking up the small microphone, he held it to his lips, “Well men, it seems our luck has changed. We are now heading north for Norway to assist our brave comrades in the Wermacht. Intelligence has spotted a convoy there for us to intercept. We will be there in 4 days. That is all!”
A cheer rang through the boat and the mood was infectiously changed as the engines picked up speed to drive U-24 northward.
In the bow compartment, the three torpedo room Petty Officers were supervising the stripping down of the 5 torpedoes the boat carried. Ralf Gericke, Egon Fischer and Franz Pelka had served with Ambach since the beginning of the war, and had helped him train the crew into a cohesive fighting force. They now drove the men they had trained with curses and shouts as the fish were prepared for swimming. They could feel the speed increasing as the bow compartment rose and fell dramatically over the waves. They felt the motion the most here, but they didn’t complain – they were off to get some Tommies!
************************************************** **********************
U-24 glided noiselessly over the choppy surface of the sea. It was May 3rd, and U-24 was approaching the anchorage where the convoy was meant to be anchored. U-9 and U-65 had both intercepted the convoy before it reached the coast, and had been badly depthcharged by the destroyer pickets escorting the convoy. There was still no news from U-9, and Ambach feared the worst.
There was heavy fog, and a stiff sea running. They should be up to the ships now, he thought, peering through the fog, but they hadn’t caught any sign of them yet. They were in grid square AF83 now, just outside Trondheim fjord. No other boats were onto the convoy, and it was up to Ambach to hit them now. The water was shallow – just enough room for the Type IIA to crawl around at Periscope depth, but little room for evasive action.
Through the fog, a Tribal class destroyer was spotted, with a few grey shadows beyond. With whispered commands, Ambach ordered the boat to periscope depth, and proceeded closer in to the anchorage. He knew he didn’t need to worry about sub nets or mines here, as the Brits hadn’t been here long, and it was still a German fjord! Ambach peered through the attack scope as U-24 crept in. He spotted two Tribal class escorts, one on each side of the convoy, there were three Troopships anchored too. He turned the scope further to the right and gasped as a Fiji Light Cruiser filled his scope. Ok, so it wasn’t the Royal Oak but sinking that would be the largest ship he’d yet sunk, and would help his destroyer friends holed up in the fjord to no end!
Half an hour later had seen U-24 creep past the single escort on this side of the convoy, and Ambach had set them up about 500 metres away from the Fiji, broadside on. He could read her name now, HMS Uganda, about 11000 tons. He whispered commands through to the control room.
“Flood tubes one to three, bow caps off. Torpedoes set to 3 metres, fast running!”
As the commands were relayed down the boat, Ambach watched through the scope to check that he was still undiscovered. He listened carefully as the First Watch Officer relayed the news that the boat was set up for attack, and carefully looked through the scope once more.
He looked at the Mayer, “Fire tubes one to three!”
He felt the shudders as the torpedoes left the boat, and heard the Chief compensating for the lost weight to make sure that the bridge didn’t break the surface. The torpedoes were all steam torpedoes, and were now hurtling in towards the Fiji at 40 knots. He didn’t think they’d spot the trails in this sea, but watched in amazement as the Fiji suddenly picked up speed and cut her cable. Ambach couldn’t believe what was happening! His perfect approach had been ruined by the British warship holding the engines continuously up to steam! The twenty seconds of running time was nearly up, and Ambach could only hope that the solution hadn’t been completely ruined.
There were two large explosions along the side of Uganda, one about level with her first funnel, and one further aft. The other torpedo must have missed by the stern as she made way he thought to himself. The crew had started to cheer before Pelka tried to keep them quiet. The destroyers were rapidly building steam, and Ambach steered the submarine closer in towards the convoy in the hope of throwing the escorts off. He kept the fish reloading, as the Petty Officers tried to keep the men as quiet as possible, but the sounds of the Fiji breaking up were more than enough to mask them. She had gone down in less than 10 minutes, and the time now was 0739.
Ambach lined up with the nearest Troopship and waited for the tubes to be reloaded. He was ecstatic at their success, but wary of the destroyers searching around south of their position. They must work out that U-24 had moved further inside soon, and Ambach wanted to be well clear before they made the attack on their last patrol look like a few drops of hail.
Five minutes later and both tubes were ready. Ambach lined U-24 up for the last time, and fired his remaining torpedoes at the nearest troopship, S.S. Robin Tuxford, 7400 tons. Pulling the periscope down quickly and doubling back away from the anchorage, Ambach swiftly increased the distance between the destroyers and his boat. There were two explosions, and another bout of cheering from the crew. Ambach raised his periscope to have a quick look, and saw that the Tuxford was already going down. At least there would be others on hand to pull the survivors out of the freezing water, he thought to himself.
Three hours later, U-24 rose out of the cold, Norwegian waters, heading south once more. A signal was sent off to BdU, and a course laid back to Wilhelmshaven. The crew were delighted with their successes, and Ambach was secretly pleased that they had forgotten his recent bad luck, and were now singing his praises. It might not have been as daring as Prien in Scapa, but it was still as heavy blow to the Brits. He hoped Walter would be alright in Trondheim as well, but he wouldn’t find out any news until he reached Germany again.
************************************************** **********************
Ambach looked around the harbour after his meeting with the Admiral. They had only just made harbour, and were escorted in. There was precious little fuel left, and careful management had been needed to see them back to base, but they had made it, to the cheering of the local people. Ambach’s logbook now read 58071 tons sunk since September, all merchant except for Uganda. He’d been promoted as well. And he’d also been awarded the Ritterkreuz. He knew that his past successes had had some contribution, but Uganda must have sealed the deal. Rumours were speculating about bases being move to France’s Biscay coast soon, and that would mean a new boat for Ambach if he was transferred. He hoped so, but it would be with a heavy heart that he left U-24, with the white eagle motif on the side of the bridge. At least the beer was still good here…
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Thanks a lot for reading, and don't be too harsh!
Dan Biddle
************************************************** ***************
Leutnant zur See Georg Ambach scanned the horizon through his heavy Zeiss binoculars. Nothing. Nothing at all. Despite the clear weather and excellent visibility, there was absolutely no sign of any smoke on the horizon. Ambach was the Commander of U-24, a Type IIA German U-boat of the 1st Flotilla. Based in Wilhelmshaven, this was his 8th patrol of the war, and he had been in command of U-24 since September ’39. Today was the 28th April, 1940, and Ambach and his crew of 27 had been at sea for a week. Currently, they were patrolling grid square AN26, and were about 200km south of the Shetlands. This was a busy traffic corridor normally, but U-24 had neither seen nor heard any sign of the enemy since the patrol started.
Ambach stamped his feet on the deck and rubbed his gloved hands together sharply. Despite the season, it was unusually cold this morning, and the sun hadn’t quite risen enough to warm the watch crew yet.
“Clear the bridge. Diving stations!” Ambach announced suddenly, startling the watch crew into action. As the last man headed below, Ambach climbed down the ladder and shut the hatch behind him, locking it tight. He climbed further down the ladder, and into the control room. The watch crew looked up as he stepped off the ladder – more faces were crowding into the control room as well, interested to see what was happening.
“Take her down to 30 metres, Chief”
“Jawohl, Herr Kaleun!”
As the boat moved slowly deeper, Ambach headed forward to the Sound compartment, where Jurgen was listening on the Hydrophones. Jurgen spun the dial steadily around in a full circle, his eyes shut tight in concentration, before he looked up at Ambach,
“No sound contacts, Herr Kaleun. All is quiet, sir.”
Ambach stood quickly and walked back into the control room. He muttered under his breath, seemingly oblivious to the looks his crew were giving him. He stood over the chart for a few minutes, working the dividers, before looking up. It seemed he had come to a decision. He looked around for the Navigator, Lange.
“Hermann, come right to course 310, maintain 30 metres and slow ahead. Let’s see if there are any further inshore.”
He stood back, his face passive once more as he watched the crew turning the boat, before heading off to his little cabin beside the control room. The curtain drew sharply back, and the crew were free to exchange glances.
“He’s certainly in a mood, Chief,” the Second Watch Officer commented, “He seems to be having rotten luck at the moment.”
“It’ll change,” remarked the Chief, “He didn’t get those medals for nothing.”
“I hope so, he’ll crack up if we keep having patrols like the last one”
Ambach lay on his bunk, frustrated. He could hear the murmurs of the watch crew, and could guess at what they were talking about. Despite an excellent first couple of patrols, his luck had seemed to dry up recently. His last patrol had been a washout, only one ship sank, a neutral, she hadn’t displayed her flag until after Ambach had blasted a couple of fish into her – and since when did Danish ships have names like S.S. Pacific Reliance anyway?! That was the only ship sunk on that patrol – 5535 tons – and after that they’d been surprised on the surface by a couple of Clemson destroyers – it was only by luck that they’d escaped with the damage they’d got. U-24 had limped back into port scarred and blackened from an eight hour battle with the destroyers, and had eventually managed to escape by trailing a fishing boat heading out of Hull.
He didn’t think this was an unlucky boat, but it was damned frustrating to be stuck in his little einbaum whilst Prien and the others were out making a name for themselves. He didn’t think much of the tonnage war, but was certainly pissed off at being near the bottom on 40,000 tons. Ambach lay back and listened to the soft hum of the electric motors, and sighed before shutting his eyes.
************************************************** **********************
The Officer’s mess was crowded again for supper. The meal wasn’t particularly tasty, but it was free, they were warm, mostly dry. They even had wood paneling! Fritz Siemons, the Chief of the Boat, twirled his fork aimlessly through the meat and potatoes, whilst others just stared vacantly. Ambach was looking at the radioman, who seemed to be taking down a message. They had traveled a hundred kilometers east overnight, and were hoping to catch some traffic heading for the Norway campaign, where the Wermacht were doing well against the Tommies.
“Radio message, Herr Kaleun!” the radioman announced.
“See to it, Number One, if you please”
The First Watch Officer was responsible for decrypting the radio messages they received from BdU headquarters. He immediately got to work as Ambach wondered what was in store for them. Presently, Mayer, the First Watch Officer handed it over. Ambach steadied it in his hand as he read the decoded message.
From BdU Headquarters to U-24, U-9, U-65
Contact Report
63º20’59”N 8º16’27”E
Small Convoy heading inland for Trondheim. Intercept if able.
Ambach stood quickly and walked briskly into the control room, before leaning over the chart table and pulling his dividers out. He was unconscious to the rest of the officers crowding after him. After a few moments of quick calculation, he called out for Lange, the Navigator to come through.
“Lay a course for Norway; I want to be at this position,” he pointed to the message, “in 4 days.”
“Jawohl, Herr Kaleun, plotting course, sir!”
Ambach stood and looked around the control room. Picking up the small microphone, he held it to his lips, “Well men, it seems our luck has changed. We are now heading north for Norway to assist our brave comrades in the Wermacht. Intelligence has spotted a convoy there for us to intercept. We will be there in 4 days. That is all!”
A cheer rang through the boat and the mood was infectiously changed as the engines picked up speed to drive U-24 northward.
In the bow compartment, the three torpedo room Petty Officers were supervising the stripping down of the 5 torpedoes the boat carried. Ralf Gericke, Egon Fischer and Franz Pelka had served with Ambach since the beginning of the war, and had helped him train the crew into a cohesive fighting force. They now drove the men they had trained with curses and shouts as the fish were prepared for swimming. They could feel the speed increasing as the bow compartment rose and fell dramatically over the waves. They felt the motion the most here, but they didn’t complain – they were off to get some Tommies!
************************************************** **********************
U-24 glided noiselessly over the choppy surface of the sea. It was May 3rd, and U-24 was approaching the anchorage where the convoy was meant to be anchored. U-9 and U-65 had both intercepted the convoy before it reached the coast, and had been badly depthcharged by the destroyer pickets escorting the convoy. There was still no news from U-9, and Ambach feared the worst.
There was heavy fog, and a stiff sea running. They should be up to the ships now, he thought, peering through the fog, but they hadn’t caught any sign of them yet. They were in grid square AF83 now, just outside Trondheim fjord. No other boats were onto the convoy, and it was up to Ambach to hit them now. The water was shallow – just enough room for the Type IIA to crawl around at Periscope depth, but little room for evasive action.
Through the fog, a Tribal class destroyer was spotted, with a few grey shadows beyond. With whispered commands, Ambach ordered the boat to periscope depth, and proceeded closer in to the anchorage. He knew he didn’t need to worry about sub nets or mines here, as the Brits hadn’t been here long, and it was still a German fjord! Ambach peered through the attack scope as U-24 crept in. He spotted two Tribal class escorts, one on each side of the convoy, there were three Troopships anchored too. He turned the scope further to the right and gasped as a Fiji Light Cruiser filled his scope. Ok, so it wasn’t the Royal Oak but sinking that would be the largest ship he’d yet sunk, and would help his destroyer friends holed up in the fjord to no end!
Half an hour later had seen U-24 creep past the single escort on this side of the convoy, and Ambach had set them up about 500 metres away from the Fiji, broadside on. He could read her name now, HMS Uganda, about 11000 tons. He whispered commands through to the control room.
“Flood tubes one to three, bow caps off. Torpedoes set to 3 metres, fast running!”
As the commands were relayed down the boat, Ambach watched through the scope to check that he was still undiscovered. He listened carefully as the First Watch Officer relayed the news that the boat was set up for attack, and carefully looked through the scope once more.
He looked at the Mayer, “Fire tubes one to three!”
He felt the shudders as the torpedoes left the boat, and heard the Chief compensating for the lost weight to make sure that the bridge didn’t break the surface. The torpedoes were all steam torpedoes, and were now hurtling in towards the Fiji at 40 knots. He didn’t think they’d spot the trails in this sea, but watched in amazement as the Fiji suddenly picked up speed and cut her cable. Ambach couldn’t believe what was happening! His perfect approach had been ruined by the British warship holding the engines continuously up to steam! The twenty seconds of running time was nearly up, and Ambach could only hope that the solution hadn’t been completely ruined.
There were two large explosions along the side of Uganda, one about level with her first funnel, and one further aft. The other torpedo must have missed by the stern as she made way he thought to himself. The crew had started to cheer before Pelka tried to keep them quiet. The destroyers were rapidly building steam, and Ambach steered the submarine closer in towards the convoy in the hope of throwing the escorts off. He kept the fish reloading, as the Petty Officers tried to keep the men as quiet as possible, but the sounds of the Fiji breaking up were more than enough to mask them. She had gone down in less than 10 minutes, and the time now was 0739.
Ambach lined up with the nearest Troopship and waited for the tubes to be reloaded. He was ecstatic at their success, but wary of the destroyers searching around south of their position. They must work out that U-24 had moved further inside soon, and Ambach wanted to be well clear before they made the attack on their last patrol look like a few drops of hail.
Five minutes later and both tubes were ready. Ambach lined U-24 up for the last time, and fired his remaining torpedoes at the nearest troopship, S.S. Robin Tuxford, 7400 tons. Pulling the periscope down quickly and doubling back away from the anchorage, Ambach swiftly increased the distance between the destroyers and his boat. There were two explosions, and another bout of cheering from the crew. Ambach raised his periscope to have a quick look, and saw that the Tuxford was already going down. At least there would be others on hand to pull the survivors out of the freezing water, he thought to himself.
Three hours later, U-24 rose out of the cold, Norwegian waters, heading south once more. A signal was sent off to BdU, and a course laid back to Wilhelmshaven. The crew were delighted with their successes, and Ambach was secretly pleased that they had forgotten his recent bad luck, and were now singing his praises. It might not have been as daring as Prien in Scapa, but it was still as heavy blow to the Brits. He hoped Walter would be alright in Trondheim as well, but he wouldn’t find out any news until he reached Germany again.
************************************************** **********************
Ambach looked around the harbour after his meeting with the Admiral. They had only just made harbour, and were escorted in. There was precious little fuel left, and careful management had been needed to see them back to base, but they had made it, to the cheering of the local people. Ambach’s logbook now read 58071 tons sunk since September, all merchant except for Uganda. He’d been promoted as well. And he’d also been awarded the Ritterkreuz. He knew that his past successes had had some contribution, but Uganda must have sealed the deal. Rumours were speculating about bases being move to France’s Biscay coast soon, and that would mean a new boat for Ambach if he was transferred. He hoped so, but it would be with a heavy heart that he left U-24, with the white eagle motif on the side of the bridge. At least the beer was still good here…
************************************************** **********
Thanks a lot for reading, and don't be too harsh!
Dan Biddle