November 4th, 1939
North Sea

"Anything?" I looked over at the speaker, annoyed at whoever had interrupted my reverie. It was currently my watch, and the conning tower was not the most fun place to be.

"Nein," I called out, hopefully loudly enough that the disembodied voice could hear me.

"Ach. How's the weather up there?" I decided the question wasn't even worth annswering. The sky was beginning to darken and the winds were picking up, and it wasn't even noon yet. Already my boots felt like ice. Watch duty did not rank high on my list of jobs.

We were heading to the North Atlantic, and as the English Channel had been closed by mines, we would have detour around to the north of Great Britain. To make up for this we were running low on the surface, to maximize speed.
So far we had only been sent to patrol the relatively shallow and cramped waters around Britain. We would now put U-1337 to the test in the frigid waters of the Nordatlantischer ocean, where the storms and the wind cut through the thickest of coats and froze up the toughest of sailors. Or at least that's how I remembered it.

Anyways. We still had a good week to go until we reached the Atlantic, at least. I tried to comfort myself with thoughts of the convoys and large merchants we would be hunting. And who knew, we might even be lucky enough to run across a British carrier hunter-killer gruppe... Lt. Winkelman, hero of the Kriegsmarine! I grinned at the thought.

As I huddled safe and warm inside my fantasy the hours crawled by. I was in the middle of entertaining a number of actresses at my hotel room when suddenly Rolf Friedrich slapped me on the shoulder.

"Let's go, stud!" His wide grin greeted me. "Your watch has been over for ten minutes, Willi, get below before you drown for Pete's sake!"

I could have slapped him. As I went below, I wondered just how much of my daydream he had heard...

From the personal log of Lt. z S Willi Winkelman...


November 10th, 1939
Rain, rain, rain. I swear, if I never see another cloud it will be too soon.

In other news, Franz had one of his canines removed yesterday. We had a small ceremony on the bridge during a spot of vaguely clear-ish weather to bury his fallen tooth. Afterwards we went back to feeling miserable.
Up until now we had spent most of our time submerged, only coming to the surface to snorkel; consequently, we've had little experience with storms at sea. Now we are feeling the full-blown fury of the North Atlantic, and we still have several more days to go until we reached our patrol area. Even after a week of nonstop storms we still haven't fully adjusted.

So far we've run across little traffic. We've picked up several contacts the last few days, but all have been too far to for us to even consider attacking.
The crew is itching for action, but in these conditions we probably won't see very much for several days at least.

Anyways, we'll be having lunch in about half an hour. The aroma coming from the kitchen area has filled the boat up completely, and I can't decide whether to feel hungry or sick. The captain has decided we will dive for mealtime, in an attempt to escape the surface action. Hopefully we can stomach our food.

However it turns out, the watch crew and I are definitely not complaining.

~ Lt. z S Winkelman

good read :up:

although i guess an experimental sub type in the 39 wouldn't be called type XXI, but that's your call ;)
keep up the good work U-leet crew!

I s'pose :hmmm:




November 10th, 1939
Southwest of the Rockall Bank

"Herr Kaleun, new contact, merchant!" The sonarmen were getting better at identification. "Bearing 039, moving slow and closing. Very faint, definitely long range."

Wagner stuck his head back into the control room. "Come right to course zero-one-five, make revolutions for three knots." To the sonarman: "Track the contact, keep us updated." He patted Reckhoff on the shoulder and returned to the Zentralle.

I looked up from the plotting table where I had been practicing my penmanship. I had been in the middle of another column of R's when the report came in. Quickly I finished the string of letters before putting my pad of paper away.

"So what do we have," I inquired anxiously.

Otto called out from the stoves. "We have coffee, milk, tea..."

"Not you," I yelled angrily to the cook as I wondered how sharp my fountain pen was.

Reckhoff continued to call out bearings as we crept north at periscope depth. Luckily it was just after midnight, as we had been snorkeling. We decided that it was dark enough to continue without fear of detection.

10 minutes later we were positioned off the target's starboard bow. "Definitely flying the Red Ensign," I studied the freighter through the observation scope. Wagner manned the attack periscope, and called out data to the tracking crew.

"Flood tubes one and two," he finally ordered. "Feuer... Einz! Feuer vier!" He stepped back from the periscope and lowered it. "Left 15 degrees rudder, come to course 230, six knots."

We had just finished our turn when a faint explosion came through the hull. I had still been tracking the target through the periscope and was greeted by an impressive explosion. I nearly fell over, but instead decided to lower the observation scope and pretend my eyes weren't bleeding.

Later I logged U-1337's first victory of the patrol as we sailed southwest: Bulk freighter, estimate 2700 tons, November 10th...

Thanks very much Type XXI are great fun in 1939, how different the battle of the atlantic would have turned out with a few of them cruising the high seas.
Great story to keep it up !! :yeah:

November 13th, 1939
the North Atlantic

I watched as the periscope quietly slid upwards, before grabbing the handles just as it broke the waterline.

"Nothing," I reported. "I can't see a thing, Herr Kaleun, too dark." I watched again as the periscope slid down into its well before walking into the radioshack.

The sonarman looked up at the captain and I. "Sounds like a tanker," he grinned. "Moving fast, though, and still a good distance away."

"Very well. Come left to course 140, ahead standard," he shouted into the Zentralle.

For the next 15 minutes we sprinted at 14 knots while U-1337 quickly closed the distance. As we slowed back down to 5 knots the sonarman reported the contact still a good distance away.

"Ping her," the captain quietly ordered.

5 sound waves later the sonarman reported the tanker at a distance of 3000 meters. Wagner quietly cursed under his breath.

"Captain, the batteries are running dangerously low. We won't be able to keep this up for much longer." Disappointment crept into my voice even as I talked.

Wagner sighed, and lightly banged his fist against the bulkhead. "Well, it's not as if we would be able to get off a shot at her stern. Probably American anyways," he added with a faint grin.

We stepped into the control room, and he gave the orders that would put us back on course. The crew was even more restless and agitated than before as we headed south again and dropped back down to 100 meters.

"Make revolutions for 3 knots," Wagner said before heading for his bunk. "We'll come up to snorkel in an hour. Wake me then."

With that, he went off to nap, and I went back to practicing my handwritten ABC's.


(Finally got around to playing SH3 again, lol)

November 17th, 1939
Grid BF41

We ran across two ships the other day, both an hour apart from each other. As they were heading in opposite directions it took a bit of sprinting and manuevering, but we made it, and both ships found their way down to Davy Jones' locker.

At the moment I was running through a column of R's when suddenly the alarm sounded. Crewmen jumped out of their bunks, the cook almost burned himself to death with a pan of scrambled eggs, and my pen went flying towards the navigator as I rushed to my post.

Two and a half minutes later the Captain clicked his stopwatch and scowled. "Ach... Too slow, mein schatz," he called to everyone and no one.

I sighed, and was stooping down to find my pen when suddenly the sonarman also called out excitedly to everyone and no one. "Herr Kaleun, multiple contacts... I've got three so far, sounds like there may be more." He took off his headphones and poked his head out of his cubbyhole, a wide grin on his face.

Everyone in the Zentralle stared at each other as Kapitänleutnant Wagner headed for the radioshack, motioning for me to follow.

"They're headed northeast, same as us, but they're moving at a good clip, and they've got a headstart." the sonarman observed, looking at us.

"Very well," the captain mused, "We'll continue snorkeling, and when the batteries are charged we'll sprint at 15 knots for half an hour on our present course. Then we'll get down to business."

We headed back to the control room to prepare.

TO BE CONTINUED...

great job! i am going to be playing this mod tonight!

haha what a great time!! January 1940 and I am sailing around in U-111. One of the KM's new Type X "Wunder" boats!!

Keep up the good story sir! :arrgh!:

Grid BF41...

I watched as the periscope slid up from its housing and poked out from the cold, black water of the North Atlantic. We had just come off our sprint, and we were now in front of the convoy, somehow.

"Ach," the captain muttered, "I can't see a thing... Wait! There she is, the lead destroyer... Zig-zagging, looks like," he added after several minutes.

I looked over at the map. We had plotted about over 15 contacts, and more calls were coming from the radioroom. This was a big one.

I looked up, and was about to speak to the captain when suddenly the boat rocked violently, and began to dive at an increasing angle, as if a giant hand was propelling the boat downwards. Suddenly the engines ran up to full power, and the needle on the depth gauge spun wildly. Captain Wagner stared up at me, his face pale.

"Crash dive to desktop...." he fearfully whispered to-


A hand began to shake my shoulder, and I jerked up and yelled out a warning to whomever was waking me. "Runaway dive!"

The captain stared at me while one of his eyebrows began its ascent up his forehead. "What the devil did you eat before you went to sleep?"

"Ah, nothing Herr Kaleun... Euhm, just a nightmare. Ahem." I decided now would be a good time to let go of my blanket and get ready.

"We've just come off our sprint... Get in the control room when you can."

I nodded sheepishly as he left. The whole boat had probably heard me...



(SH3 crash-dived as soon as I was in position... Will have to try again... :nope: )