There's more, Mohr, coming soon... ;)

Muchas Gracias!

im looking forward to it Herr Kaleun :rock:

The story is building nicely. Can't wait for the next installment.:up:

Cadiz, 24.02.1940

We entered the Bay of Cadiz at 0250, submerged. Several Spanish vessels were in port, and among them, one German merchant ship, the Thalia. We found her without difficulty, surfaced and pulled alongside -- on her starboard side, in order to be less visible.

When I informed my crew that we could not go ashore this time, one could hear a few groans -- from those few who had still hoped that I would somehow bend the rules again. Fortunately most of my men were content: I promised that the Thalia would provide them a good meal, a cold beer, a hot shower, and would even wash their stinking clothes. And the Thalia, bless her crew, delivered the goods.

Upon arrival my officers & I were warmly greeted by Kapitän Heinz Schroeder, a grey-haired old salt who clearly envied our youth and "wild adventures". Due to the lateness of the hour, the welcome celebration was simply a glass of champagne for each of us; all we really wanted was a good night's sleep.

"Tell me, Ullmann," asked Schroeder, "Has the hunting been good?"

"Better than ever," I answered. "One week ago, we sank 7 Frachters. Then two nights ago, on the way here, we sank 3 more. That was mostly Lt. Arendt's doing. You should've been there!" Anyone could see that Arendt was still ecstatic from his first use of the deck gun in combat.

"I'll bet you boys have some medals waiting for you in Schlicktown, eh?" said Schroeder.

"Very likely, sir," said Lemper. "But I prefer blondes and brunettes, myself." That got a wicked laugh out of the old man.

"Herr Kapitän, as for our boat, when shall we begin?" I asked.

"My men will perform the refueling right now," he replied. "No worries, they're very well-trained. They can do this job with their eyes closed."

That gave Kuppert some relief; he needed sleep even more than the rest of us.

Schroeder continued: "At dawn we'll start loading torpedoes. We'll need your crew on the receiving end, natürlich. This will take all day. After that, it's showers and laundry, fresh food for your boat -- then off you go!"

"First-rate," I remarked. I sent Arendt and Voigt to supervise the boat till daybreak. Schroeder then escorted me, Kuppert, and Lemper to our rooms. For a Frachter, they were better than I expected, more like ocean-liner staterooms.

"Ja, meine Herren, private rooms! With beds bigger than you are!" said Schroeder, who obviously knew of our deprivations.

Seconds after my head hit the pillow, I was fast asleep. For about four hours. Then I was awakened by the sounds of Schroeder's men hauling torpedoes.

I stood over the cargo deck watching this operation for several minutes; then I indulged my next primal urge -- I took a long, hot shower. Ahhh... At times like this, watching the rivulets of dirt stream off me, I think without a doubt the greatest invention of Western Civilization is the hot shower.

By the time I arrived in the mess hall, Lemper was already chowing down with the Thalia's junior officers. Kapitän Schroeder and I loaded up our plates from a surprisingly posh buffet, then sat at a separate table. Between bites, Schroeder told me about his situation in Spain. Though technically he and his crew were interned, the conditions were actually quite lax; he could, for ex., go ashore whenever he felt like it.

"I'm glad you don't feel like a prisoner here," I said with a hint of jealousy.

"Na, one still has to be careful," he replied. "There are plenty of British spies about. And destroyers out of Gibraltar. They stop by here often, to keep an eye on us. You're lucky, you just missed one of them."

"Verdammte imperialists," I said. "They think they own the whole ocean!"

"Ja, but they won't for much longer, eh?" said Schroeder with a wink. Leaning closer, he whispered, "Ullmann, there's someone here who wants to meet you, in private. Major Horst Brandt."

"Abwehr?" I whispered back. He nodded slightly.

Ach, Scheisse, I thought. What now??

This is making for such an excellent read.

Deep, entertaining and not dull at all.

This is well researched and very well written!

I Want More!!!!!!!:rotfl:


...bitte lol

Abwehr
 

After breakfast I quickly changed into my uniform -- my cleanest outfit, as I rarely wore it on patrol -- and met with Major Brandt, who had taken over Schroeder's office for the occasion. I greeted him with a sharp traditional salute, which he answered with what I call the "Party bureaucrat" salute: an almost casual gesture, like hailing a taxi. Over the years I've come to interpret this salute, esp. at first meetings, as a subtle signal that one is not dealing with a Fanatiker, but a "March Violet". However, Brandt was an Abwehr agent, so I had to stay on my guard.

Anyone might have guessed him to be an accountant, going by his grey business suit, wire-rimmed glasses, and sedate, owlish demeanor. But I reminded myself that this could just be a well-polished act; this man might be capable of anything. He closed the dossier he had been reading (probably mine) and invited me to sit.

"Herr Kapitänleutnant," he began. "Since your little escapade in Vigo, the Abwehr has made a very thorough investigation of you and your family." Just as I'd feared.

He gave me a clinical, penetrating look, as if I were an exotic species of beetle that he'd read about in a biological journal. If this look was meant to make me nervous, it was working. He went on: "My superiors have come to a conclusion about you."

I asked in a slightly indignant tone, "Herr Major, is my loyalty in question?"

"No, not at all," he replied. "We in the Abwehr understand that there is more than one kind of patriot. Even so, we think you need our help."

"Sir, are you quite sure?" I said. "Perhaps you haven't heard: I just sank ten ships. I may get the Ritterkreuz for this!"

"May I remind you, Herr Kapitänleutnant, that medals are not bullet-proof. If the SD or the Gestapo knew what we know about you..."

Mein Gott, the bastard really had me by the short hairs!

"All right, Herr Major," I said. "Let's lay our cards on the table, then. What sort of 'help' did you have in mind?"

"Have you ever considered," he said, warming to the topic, "how easily one clerical error can make a vital piece of evidence disappear forever?"

"You could really do that, huh?"

"Our people are everywhere," he answered. "The other agencies underestimate us -- that is our advantage."

"So... what does the Abwehr want in return?"

"From time to time we require the use of a U-Boot. Some of our missions are so secret, we don't want even the Kriegsmarine to know about them. If you were to work for us in that fashion, you would incorporate the Abwehr tasks into your regular patrols. You would simply not inform BdU about those activities."

I leaned back in my chair and glanced out a porthole at the skyline of Cadiz. What the hell was I getting myself into??

"Herr Major, what about my crew?"

"They must be sworn to secrecy, of course. How much do you trust them?"

"I trust my officers completely. As for the rest, most have done only a few patrols with me. I can't say I know all of them very well."

"An honest answer... You should know, we are conducting background checks on all your men. As a result, we might need one or more of them to transfer off your boat. Would you accept this?"

"That depends... Right now I'm satisfied with everyone's performance. How would I explain a transfer?"

"You won't have to. As you know, BdU has commissioned many new U-Boots, and they will need experienced crewmen. All we have to do is suggest some names. Problem solved."

"You really have this all figured out, don't you?" I remarked. "Do any of the skippers I know work for you, too?"

"That is not a subject for discussion," he answered sternly. "And you must never mention it to your fellow commanders."

"Ja ja, of course, Herr Major... I accept the conditions." As I shook Brandt's cold, clammy hand, I wondered if I would regret this. As a boy I'd heard the saying that "no man can serve two masters" -- evidently the Abwehr thought otherwise.

"Welcome aboard, Ullmann," said Brandt with a smile like a thin scar. "We have a job for you now, if you want it. Quite simple, really: One of our agents must go to Tangier. It's just 120 kilometers. You may think of it as a test."

"All right, Herr Major... We'll do it."

Brandt gave me a map of the Moroccan coast with an "X" mark 5 km east of the port of Tangier. "That is the drop-off point." On the back of the map were three short lines of Enigma-style code.

He explained: "One hour before you reach the coast, you will transmit this first line by radio, exactly as written. Upon arrival you will send the second signal by Varta-Lamp. The response from shore will be this third line. Then a boat will come to collect our agent."

"Sounds simple enough -- as long as the Tommies don't get in the way." I folded the map and slid it into my pocket.

"If we are satisfied with your work, one of our officers will contact you in Wilhelmshaven about future missions."

"Good. Is there anything else I should know, sir?"

"Stealth is the highest priority," Brandt said firmly. "Avoid engaging any enemy vessels en route to Tangier."

"Understood, sir!"

"And I must emphasize again: No one at BdU may know that you even went there. Klar?"

"Herr Major... are you suggesting that I falsify my KTB?"

Brandt replied crisply, "That would be an excellent idea."

im wondering.... what do you mean with this -> "May I remind you, Herr Kapitänleutnant, that medals are not bullet-proof. If the SD or the Gestapo knew what we know about you..."

Oh-ho-ho.... Be patient, Herr Mohr. (Btw, spy stories are my specialty -- as you'll soon see.) ;)

did you raped a spanish girl ? :hmm:
or killed a woman's husband and raped the woman ? :hmm:

On the trip dwn he will either spot a large convoy of troopshis tankers and passanger ships, A task force in perfect firing setup, or the Queen Mary! :roll:

Or Jesus thumbing for a lift :rotfl:

Just tune in tomorrow, folks... :cool:

:shifty: you hook us up on a story.. and update it tomorrow ? :nope:

Cadiz, 25.02.1940

Day gave way to night, and the stars came out as the last of our crew returned from the Thalia -- clean, jolly, and well-fed. On board, we were completing our final preparations before sailing: mainly stowing the mountains of fresh food we had been given.

Gerhard gleefully pointed out to me the Spanish items in the mix: a gigantic jamón serrano, three cartons of bacalao, and several tins of extra-virgin olive oil. I waved and called out to Kapitän Schroeder: "Mensch, you thought of everything! Danke schön!"

"Nichts zu danken!" he replied. "Come back anytime!"

Below in the bustling Zentrale, I met with Kuppert. He wiped his hands clean and flashed a huge grin. "Everything's ship-shape, Herr Kaleun," he said. "These Thalia men are incredible!"

"We must've set a new record for torpedo loading!" Lemper interjected.

Kuppert went on: "You should've seen their collection of spares! And they have a complete machine shop, with a lathe for making parts from scratch!"

"Ja, like Schlicktown in miniature," I said, watching a pair of sailors hang the jamón by the compressor. Behind them, two more men lugged in sacks bulging with freshly-baked bread.

Voigt checked the clock. "It's 1833. Where's our special guest?"

I looked to Lemper. "Heard anything from Schroeder?"

He shrugged. "Nada, Herr Kaleun."

"Well, we can't wait around forever..." I was about to fetch my megaphone to announce our departure to the Thalia, when we heard someone descending the ladder. One can always tell when an outsider is boarding, from the pauses in the footsteps.

Lemper's eyes got big. He stammered, "Herr Kaleun! It's... it's..."

"I can see, 1WO."

Everyone in the Zentrale froze and stared in astonishment as the young woman stepped off the ladder and faced us. She was dressed aviator-style, in a leather jacket & khaki trousers, which did not entirely hide her ample curves. Her shiny black hair was topped with a wine-red beret at a rakish angle.

Her face was that of a Mediterranean goddess: with her fine features and olive skin, she could have passed for a native of any of a dozen countries from Portugal to the Black Sea -- and stopped traffic in all of them.

When she smiled and turned her deep brown eyes upon me, time stood still.

"Willkommen an bord," I said. She gave me a jaunty salute, which I returned.

"Guten Abend, Herr Kaleun," she said, shaking my hand. "You may call me Veronica."

One woman on a U Boat...

Even the Abwher would have a ahrd time finding whos kid it is :P