Finally the charade is over. The band marches away, the crowd disperses, and even the propaganda merchants are told to leave us alone for their own sake.

The Boat is docked with a skeleton watch who will be relieved regularly, by men from U-711 (another new 7th Flotilla boat yet to go out, and are well rested comparatively)

But I insist we have at least some good men from U-46 in charge of things at all times

This should make certain everyone gets ashore at some point, and to put it euphemistically, 'freshens up' (That means ages under the shower, particularly for the engine crew) and then perhaps even more hopefully: take 'just some "light refreshment" in the local cafes and hostelries' that the fawning local mayor proudly announces are to be had in his fair town of St Nazaire.

I know they'll go off the leash for a night or two, but that's for another day

More importantly, I scribble a chit, written hastily against Otto's back, and my Chief is smuggled by the coxswain (by whatever means, I don't want to know) towards the train station, and home to his wife and impending child back all the way to Frankfurt.

He hardly mentioned it since we were last back here, and he stepped in brilliantly when we were dive-bombed that time, but as soon as we broke off from the convoy and started heading home, I noticed he was starting to spend a lot more time than he never had before around Willi and his chart table. Starting to count the hours and minutes.

God speed, Otto.

Most importantly of all, there was no sign of Heidi, after the excitement had died down. I had pinned my hopes on seeing her, as much as I'd pinned and gazed at her photograph in my cabin over the last few weeks.

Duty calls, I suppose...

But I'm sure she was waving from the flagstones...

Or a certain Luftwaffe pilot....

In the event of course, neither me or Reuben Francks, the senior survivor from the other boat that we, oh, so heroically rescued, are to see any off this.

We are promptly whisked away by staff car. Me with my full diaries, logs and reports; Reuben with nothing.

And now we stand in the well appointed office of our Uncle.

It is Francks' turn first to face the grilling, having lost his Boat, his Kapitan and most of the crew.

He is awestruck at first by Kerneval, as I was (and still am), but he stands his ground resolutely.

"Did you fight back, by any chance?"

"No, Sir. I don't think so. The flak was manned but the first we knew it, was the bombs. There was no alarm or sound of firing from us. And none of that bridge watch survived , Sir"

"So how many ships did U-467 sink, before you went down?"

(Doenitz through and through. Straight to the tonnage)

Reuben hung his head slightly

"None, Sir, we had no contacts on that edge of the Pack at the time

"Well that's not a good return, it'll only improve the British batting average. What about your codes? The enigma machine and other security items? Don't tell me they are in English hands?"

I could visualise, only from Reuben, for he was the last to see them, young Peter, the Kapitan, hopelessly trying to save his wounded signaller at the bottom of the bridge ladder; yet urgently ordering his Chief upwards to save himself, that no outstretched arm could help.

Those damned precious items and the man he'd gone back for, draped around his neck. The water swirling in around them.

"Our boat took pretty much everything with her, including the codes and our Commander, Sir" Reuben blinked hard.

"Ah, yes, your commander", Doenitz replied relentlessly

"What about Kapitan Sepp?"

"A brave man, Sir. A boy really. Fair to his men, and pretty good with his boat. But he had no combat experience, Sir, neither did they. He was sent out too soon, and.."

I'd put a restraining hand on Reuben's shoulder in the hope that he would shut up.

And he did. Doenitz's frosty glare and silence saw to that.

"And how would you tell me to give more combat experience to our crews, my friend, other than to send them to attack the enemy? How many boats and men should I keep training in the Baltic until they alone think they are ready for battle?

"I'm sorry, Sir..

"Don't be. I have a high regard for my men, all of them, to the lowest stoker, to speak their mind if they have something useful to say. And sometimes even if they haven't. It sounds like with your opinions, I should transfer you back to the Kiel or Wilhelmshaven depots, they could use of a man of your combat experience. You might tell them how easy it is to get sunk on your first patrol without firing an eel or a shot in anger...

"Sir! I respectfully request that I am assigned to the next front boat as soon as possible!" blurts an outraged Reuben.

Doenitz rising from his desk smiles, and pours three glasses of brandy.

"Well, we'll see"

And I suddenly realise that the Old Man, although his sea days are behind him, still knows how to score a torpedo amidships with his men

"And what about you, Leutnant. How is U-46? Back in one piece for a change, I see"

My turn.

I recounted our patrol, and a list of confirmed sinkings and estimated tonnage.

Even he nodded approvingly, leafing through my log as I gave my report.

"No opportunity to identify the names of the ships any more closely, Sir."

"Aircraft?"

"Much busier than before, Sir. Didn't dare to hang about too much on the surface"

I caught a wry grimace from Reuben.

"Nearly got jumped once ourselves, and the last 8,000 tonner took some chasing. She had constant aerial cover during daylight hours.

"The surface escorts seemed a little less organised, and didn't give us so much trouble this time. I think hitting them from different angles paid dividends. The credit for that should go to U-122 and U-213, they had the first contact and bore the brunt of it. We just mopped up."

Doenitz nodded.

"Any news from them, Sir"

"U-122 should be making her rendezvous with a couple of e-boats we've sent out for the purpose of escorting her in. Signals from U-213 have been patchy. We think he's hurt. But the girls are listening out for him even now. U-358 is still in good form, and in fact took a straggler just this morning. I'm bringing him back too. All in all, Wolfpack Grief gave the Brits quite a hiding!"

Doenitz sipped his Remy Martin and smiled.

"But of course, your duty doesn't finish here, my boy"

"Sir?"

"Let's just say that the air raids over England haven't gone quite according to plan."

He sipped again meditatively

"Not to put too fine a point on it, the Luftwaffe has sustained huge losses in trying to gain air superiority. The verdammt English won't quit just yet. We've suffered huge plane losses, while you've been having fun at sea. Between us, Operation Sealion, the last piece in the jigsaw, isn't likely to happen. You might have noticed that a lot of our landsers have been entrained and moved back East. I'll say no more, but there's something even bigger in the wind.

"You'll also know that we've lost Kretschmer, Prien and Shalke all in the space of one convoy attack"

I agreed sadly. The U-boat grapevine is second to none.

"For whatever we do next, our leader requires a propaganda coup, something to inspire the nation in the light of these losses.

"Yes, Sir" I replied bewildered.

"You and Francks, here, are that inspiration...."

"I don't understand, Sir, I..."

"In short, Leutnant you are both to return to St Nazaire, and clinb into your best dress uniforms. You will then be taken to Berlin by special train for a special presentation"

"You mean, Sir....?"

"Yes, Leutnant, and take it from me, when you get there, there is no smoking or drinking in the presence of the Fuhrer....."

Lt de Bunsen, U-46

I must say that I have enjoyed every bit of this reading. Stumbled across it last night and read them all.

I almost feel like I can relate to the captian of the U-46 not on a personal level of course but through the game itself because I in some small way I have been given a glimpse of the type of job that was needed to be done, but this reading gives me a glimpse into the mind, and heart of the commander himself, therefore completing the circle.

All to many times certian nationalities have always been made to seem less than human in war stories and the sort. I am American myself and therefore never really understood the logic behind the mindset of the germans during world war 2 though I have always had a great respect for them. This little story in a small, but very effective way, tells us all what went through there minds. They weren't evil people, atleast not all of them. They were just that, people like the rest of us, and doing the job they had been given to do in the only way they knew how. They too lived, and loved thier countries no less than we do.

Swordfish its a great reading, I look forward to your next installment. :up:

Thank you, Dutch, for that thoughtful and nicely written post.

I'm glad you (and everyone else who has been kind enough to post, or just to read it)) seem to be enjoying the U-46 story, which began as a tentative first post on this excellent forum, and kind of got bigger as I embellished the tale of my own campaign in SHIII.

The Battle of the Atlantic was a brutal death struggle but was generally fought with more gallantry and chivalry by both sides than was certainly evident (again from all sides) than the land war. Being British myself, it goes against instinct to live the role of a German U-Boat Commander, but I too have great respect for the courage and resourcefulness of these men, not many who survived against ultimately suicidal odds. Despite the despicable regime they found themselves fighting for.

The attraction of submarine sims, and this era and game in particular, is not just the history, and not the nationality, but the sense of being the underdog basically on your own and living on your wits against a greater enemy.

Of course the Germans weren't the ruthless automatons they are so often portrayed as. They were generally very young men with the same hopes, fears, faults and humour as anybody else.

So I'm glad, if nothing else, if I have added a bit of human colour to the gaming experience of SHIII.

Kind regards to all, LS

"Now finish up yor drinks and get started, don't you suppose I have other boats coming in all the time"

I coughed nervously.

" Sir,..is... that is...er..I was hoping to see..."

Doenitz drained his glass and ushered us out.

"Ah, yes my Heidi. You foolish boy"

"0f course, I can't be seen to approve of my Kapitans fraternising with the lower ranks.."

No, Sir. Of course not, Sir"

"But she has paid special attention to the fortunes of your boat. Although I can't think why. You both smell like a couple of dead seals. Let me think now...."

"No, she's not here. Had to go immediately to Abbeville, after you docked."

'The Boys from Abbeville' The famous ace fighter Geschwader based in Northern France. I'll never be able to compete with them.

"I see, Sir."

Doenitz must have noticed my crestfallen face, and became grave.

"It's for a memorial service for a couple of their pilots. We always send someone, I can't remember who went down this time, there's been too many; but she volunteered to go. Now get yourself off to Berlin and enjoy yourself. A spot of home leave will do you good!"

And so we walked out towards the duty driver. Both more bewildered than when we walked in....

Leutnant de Bunsen, U-u6

The trip back to Germany was slightly surreal.

Me and Reuben just wanted to sleep, but were constantly awakened with snacks or champagne, by endless train stewards with swastikas on their armbands.

"Thank you, leave it and go!" I finally snapped.

We finally got to Berlin, our train, much to my shame having taken precedence over all civilian trains, several troop trains and even one with red crosses on a white background, displayed all over it, which had to pull over to let us pass.

Another bloody band was playing at the Bahnhoff, more speeches, and the smartest of the Liebstandarte SS received us very correctly and escorted us off to our temporary quarters on the Unter Den Linden with their polished boots. Thank God we didn't have to goose-step.

"Is this what you imagined your homecoming would be like, Reuben?"

He offered me a tired smile, and I could have bit my tongue. This couldn't be to his liking either. But shipwrecked in the Atlantic, I suppose he couldn't have hoped for any homecoming at all.

Soon we are courteously taken through a labyrinth of identity checks, to be kept waiting for two hours in the ante room of our Great Leader. There is a hive of activity, Staff officers and clerks are scurrying back and forth with sheaths of papers and rolls of maps. Very senior officers are pacing up and down on the carpet, waiting impatiently to be seen.

Us two u-boat scruffs sit quitely by. We know too well our own depth.

Reuben turns disconsolately to me:

"Now I really could use a cigarette , Herr Kaleun."

"Couldn't we all, lad."

We both looked up and snapped to attention. It was General Guderian. The Victor over France. Some of the Army boys say that he rides his panzers as fast as Indian ponies.

"Sir!"

"At ease gentlemen," he nodded towards the huge oak doors.

"You're next. But don't be long. There's a lot going on...."

Lt de Bunsen, U-46

Amazing! First time I have read this thread, can't believe I missed this for all these months. Now I am hooked :up: This should be a "sticky" topic, or listed somewhere as a must read for all forum visitors.

SECONDED!!!
:rock: :up: :rock:

Thirded!!!!! :up: :up: :up:

Vote is carried by all!

when you speak to the fuhrer, don't mention the war!

if you bump into Göring, refer to him as Meyer! :up:

We are ushered in, and the doors close behind us.

Any number of staff officers are there, poised readily with notebooks or files in hand.

We see him. Hunched over a huge 'bird table' of what seems to be Eastern Europe. Demanding reports and map overlays angrily from a harassed staff.

The orderly coughs politely

"Officers of U-46 and U-467 to see you, mein Fuhrer"

The crowd of lackeys parts, and we get a better look.

In a drab dun-coloured tunic and trousers, with an SS Eagle on his left sleeve, a diminutive man turns from the map table. A lock of lank dark hair falling down from his forehead. And that unmistakeable moustache.

"Yes, yes of course, our heroes of the deep!"

He pumped our hands with great excitement. Whatever land war forgotten for the moment.

"And which of you saved the other?"

"Well, Mein Fuhrer..." Reuben started..

"..Never mind, never mind! The German people salute you! Bring me those medals!"

He pinned them onto our chests. The Oak Leaves. A huge honour, but I couldn't help noticing as the Aide de Camp tidied away, that there was a whole box of them.

Obviously heroes of the Reich come cheaper by the dozen.

"Great work against the English. Soon we will send our finest battleship to smash their naval power, and you will all be home soon. Now we have bigger fish to fry!"

A number of the staff tried to intervene discreetly at this incaution, but Hitler would not be stopped.

"England was never our enemy in the long term, oh no! We have sent her running back to her shores, and you must keep it that way. But here....!"

He made a grand gesture at the map. Stabbing his finger at Moscow.

"Here is where Germany's destiny lies!

"Russia, mein Fuhrer?"

"Yes, Russia, Leutnant! We have only to kick in the doors and the whole rotten building will come crashing down! At dawn tomorrow, the Bolsheviks won't know what hit them!"

"Yes, my Fuhrer"

We were clearly not meant to hear any of this, and were even kept under armed guard by OKW until H-Hour was reached.

Reuben turned to me

"Russia?"

I pulled a small face.

"Well maybe we can pull it off. We have done so far"

"What about that stuff about going home, Sir?"

"Trust me, Reuben, I reckon that we'll still be dodging destroyers this time next year. And when it happens we can explain that we have it on Herr Hitler's authority that we shouldn't be there. Now, what are we going to do with the rest of our leave? God help me I'm already missing U-46 after this madness. Any ideas...?

Lt de Bunsen, U-46

Brilliant work! :D :D :D :D :D
I love the fact you used the 'rotten building' quote :up:

And you put in Guderian as well! :up:

My parents are not around anymore.

Neither are Reuben's. But his Uncle still has a house in Hamburg. and since that''s where we both hail from, and we have the use of a staff car, I suggest that we should go there, and revisit our old stamping ground.

Reuben is strangely reticent about the idea.

But we arrive there all the same.

His Uncle, Fritz, is not a little shocked to see two decorated naval officers at his door, but soon recovers his surprise and embraces his long unseen Nephew. His welcome to me was more reserved, and did I notice some silently mouthed communication between Nephew and Uncle, which I was not supposed to see?

Soon we are sitting down to a hearty meal of mutton and sauerkraut. (I thought it should normally be knuckle of pork, but it still tasted great)

Towards the end of the meal, and the wine is being poured, there is a definite bumping noise from the attic.

Uncle Fritz has closed his eyes, and Reuben is staring at me intently.

"Damned mice, Sir."

"Damned big mice, Reuben", I tried to joke.

"Sir..." Reuben sighed,

"You know my name is Reuben; my Uncle's real name is Isaac."

He swallowed some wine.

"Does that give you a clue, Sir?"

"Yes. Yes it does, Reuben..."

Lt de Bunsen, U-46

WOW! I just read all the posts on this topic; and I must say that you're a star! Keep it coming; I'm drooling after the next chapter!!!
:up: :up: :up: :up: :up: :up: :up: :up: :up: :up: :up: :up: :up:

Uncle Isaac laid down his knife and fork.

"Yes, I am a Jew, obviously my family and friends, too, Herr Leutnant."

"I suppose it is your duty to report us to the authorities"

"But I am German, and served as a young machine gunner on the Western Front in the last war. I never dreamed then that it would come to this. Reuben here is half jewish on his father's side. My brother who fell on the Somme, fighting for his country. Despite all that's going on, I'm proud that Reuben is fighting for his country too, and we're very grateful to have him back in our arms. But we have been trying to survive the last few crazy years, until things become normal again. You must do your duty, but our lives depend on you."

I didn't know what to say. I had heard rumours of course, but never imagined it was like this.

Isaac fell silent. Reuben just stared at me, his body language told me that he would use his very cutlery to defend his family against the rifle butts and truncheons of the Gestapo, if need be.

I rose from the table. And took off my tunic.

"You don't have a rodent problem in your attic, Herr Francks. You have some human people up there who I am sure would be more comfortable down here joining us for supper. I'd be delighted if they would join us, even though I won't ever be able to remember meeting them..."

Lt de Bunsen, U-46