I fumbled in my pocket. I must have checked it a hundred times on the way here. Heidi looked at me expectantly, Josie looked at me furiously, and punched me on the arm.

"Rollie, where is it you idiot? Come here!"

While Heidi looked on, Josie scolded me and dived both hands into my uniform pocket. Making it worse because she tore it, and it fell through to the lining of my uniform.

By now, the French have seen what's going on and they love a romantic proposal. There is a moment when everyone is digging into my pocket to retrieve the ring, until the Head Waiter comes forward brandishing a sharp steak knife and waves everyone imperiliously away.

He gestures to me with a simple nod of the head, and with a stroke of the knife, expertly slashes open my pocket lining.

He smiles back up, I am gasping in trepidation. But he presents me with the ring box.

The French are the french as I've said before. A bottle of champagne with two glasses had come on a tray, and so now we had a crowd.

It was Josie who passed me the ring again. She'd chosen it. There was a a girly sob from her. And a nervous cough from me. Heidi, as far as I could see was laughing at us both. Really she was just smiling and never looked so radiant.

"Go Rollie!"

Josie nudged me again.

I sucked in all my breath as I walked towards her. This time I went to one knee (there were sighs from the french audience).

I can never do this right....

"Heidi, this ring is for us both even though it's taken some time to find it; it's my promise of marriage to you. Will you take me as your husband..?"

"Yes! Yes!! Of course yes, Rollie!"

"What took you so long!"

I don't know whether that was Heidi or Josie speaking. I was hugging them both. But even her best friend allowed Heidi a long slow kiss with me at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

"You knew!"

Heidi chided Josie later, as we sauntered back to the hotel.

"I always knew, right from the start, even back in Kerneval, I told you that shy Captain liked you..."

"He never did!"

Josie at her chatty best, and I turned away. There were some telegrams.

"Yes Heidi, he was always hanging around at BdU, after debriefing at the chateau. You saw him. He was the quiet one. Heidi, I must have told you! I can always sense these things,...will I be your bridesmaid, please?

"You will be my Chief Bridesmaid, Josie, we're going to have so much fun. He hasn't set a date yet and we'll have our celebration night.


There were four telegrams, one for each of the girls and two for me.

Brown envelopes. I knew without opening them what they meant. I looked across the hotel lobby to Heidi and Josie happy and laughing, loooking again and again at the engagement ring, and planning God knows what.. Maybe I really have done something worthwhile in my life, whether I understand it or not..

I looked at their return orders. And then tore them up. Mine weighed more heavily, and a phone call eventually put me through to the duty officer of the U-46.

"When Christian?"

"Joachim tells me we have our torpedoes, and he's happy. The last of the food and water and other supplies are going in, a day or two,, there's a tweak or two to the pipes and electrics, and I'm recommending a test harbour dive to trim her Then me and Bruno are going to be rounding up the rest of the lads on shore leave tomorrow. We do need a captain, though Kap, that's traditional on a U-boat. Where are you?

"Paris, Christian. So not far away. Things have taken a bit of a turn with me and Heidi."

"Hey Rollie, please tell me that's good, not bad?"

My silence must have confirmed it.

"Hey! At last you've been torpedoed yourself! Congratulations Rollie!"

"Well keep it to yourself Christian, but yes thanks, we're staying for at least one more day, maybe more. Keep me posted at the hotel address."

I put the envelope in my pocket.

Convoys are increasing, better escorted and better organised. U-46 is needed to help form a screen out in the North Atlantic this time.

Well I won't let her go before she and I am ready this time. We're exchanging four crew members, two who are old enough to have had enough, and done their fair share, and a couple of youngsters who didn't enjoy their first depth charge attack so much, and have asked for a posting to the Scharnhorst, a nice big comfortable ship. So we are getting a couple of eager youngsters. That can work either way depending how they cope with u-boat life, and the the other men on the boat who don't stand any nonsense from kids.

Unless they can pull that torpedo, find that convoy, spot that jabo, work that flak, make our engines work, and push our dive planes down when we need to.

The sea water spurting through frighteningly in parts of the boat that Kurt deals with urgently and suddenly in command. And more frighteningly through rivets in our hull.

The hell of the Atlantic blast of submerging waves that tower over the bridge, and keep us chained to our watch. The rain.

The coming below to a welcome steaming cup of coffee from Kuki if the situation allows, the towel that Doc invariably provides to dry the hair of the men coming off watch, boys first, officers last. My coffee is always cold by the time the mug is prodded towards me. By then I'm too busy to care.

The torpedoes seem like they're done, and provisioning is happening.

Is Bruno back?

Have I got to dig Big Dieter out of jail again?

Where's crazy George?

How's Reuben getting on across Europe in my home town, where I still can't believe perfectlly nice people are forced to hide.

I need to talk to Otto about the diseel engines. And fuel storage. Some type VII's are making it right across to America, and having a field day with the Amis who don't seem to know there's a war on.

I think I want magnetic torpedoes, instead of those pistol ignited duds, but I like the accuracy if they run true and are set to the right depth.

Kuki needs to put more pepper in the soup, and can we have anything other than those captured hard tack biscuits the British put up with? Any nation that put's up with those sea rations is going to be hard to beat.

We need to upgrade the Flak gun. We're overdue for a double or a flakvierling; Flotilla tells us that we should stand up and fight when caught by an aircraft on the surface. Well we've tried that. All my watch officers know to bring us down at the first speck of trouble in the sky.

We've all apparently been issued new uniforms.

I think they would have their hats blown off.

She needs a lick of paint too.

Perhaps some red anti-rust paint delicately applied to her bottom. Flotilla wants us to apply some zig-zag painting as camouflage. Willi is going to want to have our bridge emblem touched up. He'll go crazy otherwise

Are my tonnage reports up to date?

Have I got to bail Dieter or George or any number of my boat out of naval jail? Bruno can deal with it can't he? No he'll probably be behind bars himself.

Oscar can help. Even the chain dogs respect him.

Christian or Otto needs to report on how the trim dive goes.

Is my photo of Heidi still stuck up in my cabin? It keeps me going. And there she was back.

"Rollie, I love you. Sometimes I think you drift off and think about your boat all the time!"

LS

I'd rather take my chance on U-46...we all know what happened to the Scharnhorst http://img142.imageshack.us/img142/2391/bubblegum21.gif

(Out of story)

Only 36 out of maybe over 3,000 made it out of the Scharnhorst?

Only 3 made it out of the Hood when the Bismarck blew her up with the same numbers,

A mere lucky handful were picked out of the sea when she was sunk in turn.

One ship, and there where others, such as the Royal Oak sunk boldly by a U-boat, and the Repulse and Renown, bombed easily from the air, and the Arizona at Pearl Harbour (where not many people had the chance to get out, and I have visited her grave) noone had the worst survival rate in the whole war than serving on a U-boat. Where the death rate was over 80% of all those who ever joined the service. U-boats themselves caused the terrible deaths or suffering of many lives, in their own country's cause. But most of them died an unimaginable death of their own.

Basically, don't go to sea unless you really believe man has triumphed over nature. You may drown when it get's rough, or there's explosions, and the sea really doesn't care. It will put you with all the others.

Of course that doesn't apply to us Brits. We sail all over the place, and various battles even before the Battle of the Atlantic. That's the perk of being an Island. We get to take on the French, on a regular and ongoing basis; fight the Italians (more difficult in Roman times, but we kicked them out eventually). Piece of cake with Mussolini. The Spanish, the Dutch, the Danes, the Norwegians, The Afghans a century back, most of Africa including South Africa, the Boers and the Zulus, Sudan, India, Pakistan, Crimean Russia; China, Korea, Sierra Leonne, the Germans more in recent history, of course, (and noone minds the rich people arriving halfway through the play and taking a seat at the front). We let them have an Asian war of their own some time later. Korea, Argentina, Egypt, I'm sure France again, if not they should be back on the list. Iraq, Iran, and still no mention of Scotland ,Wales and Ireland who historically don't like us much either, We've been fighting each other for hundreds of years. With good reason, as it happens, but they can't let it go, even though it was long-dead kings, and potentates who none of us are related to

Oh, and America. That was one of our ideas which we should have thought through!

I've probably missed a few, so apologies to any country that we have fought with and not get a mention or a credit.


RdB

36 lucky people IMHO

I have an original autograph from one of the three Hood survivors....Ted Briggs as well as a very rare print of the Hood sinking.

The U-boat arm lost more of they're numbers in % terms than any other arm/unit in WWII but not as many numerically as that of the merchant seamen, one of whom was my grandfather (my fathers father...a second engineer on a munitions ship, lost with all hands) whom I never had the good fortune to meet.

LEST WE FORGET

http://www.britmodeller.com/forums/s...ault/poppy.gif

http://i46.photobucket.com/albums/f1...ann/wreath.jpg

My grandfather was one of the lucky few that survived Operation Market Garden.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old.
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them

Absolutely. Brave men all of them.

Sorry for the midnight rant! Now back to Paris...

LS

That night back in the hotel room, we talked long and hard about the marriage, and our future plans.

At least one of us did. I was happy to listen and agree.

For all the months of uncertainty and dread, I had made her happy for once. And her mother was coming straight over to France, she'd heard all about me; but then on my next shore leave, we must both go to Germany to visit her parents. Her Father has bitter memories of the Western Front, but Heidi can talk him round she said gaily.

Then there was so much to organise of course, and should we set a date, maybe not yet, (I had to remind her that a boat doesn't just come back at a given date - and I certainly don't want to say 'maybe not at all')

"Heidi, let's sleep. Josie will kill us both if she's not involved in the preparations and you'll get far more done without me. I'll approve everything you both say, and if I disapprove you'll do it anyway. Just let me know in small doses!

"Oh Rollie, you'll love it, we'll have the best wedding ever!"

"Heidi, you know it's hard to organise a wedding with any serviceman away on duty, I woudn't want you to..."

"Oh hush silly! I don't mind if I marry you on the deck of your boat or anywhere, as long as you promise to keep our dresses clean. We can always have a proper ceremony later; but we will have one!"

LS

(By the way guys - that whole dropping the ring at the top of the Eiffel Tower thing - way ahead of me, you beat me to it! I'm glad you command u-boats not destroyers!)

Yours, LS

If he had dropped it, it would be "ALARM!!!!!!" followed by a rapid crash dive!

I ran the bath for Heidi, kissed her, and then excused myself to get a newspaper and check our pigeon hole for telegrams.

The girls' recall papers were safely in the bin. A few days extra wouldn't hurt, and easily explained back at the coast. Mine however couldn't be ignored forever, but Christian will have things in hand.

I passed by Josie's room and thought I heard sobbing.

I knocked gently. "Josie? Are you all right?"

There was definitely a snuffle this time.

"Rollie? Don't come in. I'm fine. It takes forever to put this leg brace on."

Another hitched breath and sniffle.

"Ok Josie. I'm just going out for some stuff. I thought we might have a picnic in the park later. Do you want anything?"

"No, nothing thanks Rollie."

"Ok, see you a bit later."

We men are slow to pick up on signals, but even I could tell Josie was lonely and feeling sad after the excitement of yesterday. Her last boyfriend had been killed, a potential new one was returning from Russia wounded, and could be anywhere.

Deep in thought I went past the first patisserie, and the next one was closed for repairs.

I wandered on to the cross roads where there was a scene of confusion.

A smart heavily armed column of half tracks, painted in dapple camouflage was stopped at the junction. Even I knew from the emblem painted on the mudguards and the deaths head badge on the officer's caps, that this was the tough 2nd SS 'Das Reich' Panzer Division.

Heading south by the look of it, and by the gesticulations of two of their officers, being held up by an altogether rough looking assortment of trucks, each showing a rudimentary red cross carrying wounded or convalescent soldiers heading west across their path.

The elderly Wehrmacht convoy officer was being berated by these two brash and confident young SS lieutenants, while two traffic gendarmes stood back uncertainly.

As I watched, the army officer was losing the argument, because the SS don't expect to be stopped by anyone, friend or foe.

And then a large figure jumped out of the cab of the leading army truck he had a head swathed around the top and one side in white bandages. His chevrons marked him as an infantry sergeant.

Even under the bandages he looked familiar.

He more or less brushed his hapless officer aside and confronted the SS officers himself. By this time I had approached close enough to hear the argument, and when I heard the feldwebel's voice I was sure.

It was Auer. Josie's Hansi.

"Make way for the Army, Sir! These men are wounded, they have priority for medical care or rest."

"The Waffen SS always have priority" came the steely response

"They have come back from fighting in Russia, they have the right..."

"So has our Division" he retorted.

"Well, may I say Sir, you look smart, clean and well refreshed from the experience." and Auer spat on the cobblestones between them. "These men come first."

I could see what was coming next.

The officer's hand went to the pistol on his belt.

LS

:nope: This doesn't look good.

Not for the SS officer anyway.

Lol, yeah, Rollie can just pull that stunt that he did to the other guy that was a Reuben's uncle's house.

With the SS, it never is....

I hate these confrontations. It's not so bad with my own roughs, because they always show respect in the end. But you just never know with the Schutz Staffel. The only thing to do is sigh deeply and take your chance.

"Put your pop gun away junge!"

"And who might you be?" The SS lieutenant still had his hand hovering over his leather holster.

Sergeant Auer with an amazed smile takes one step back. I try to throw him a wink.

"It's no concern of yours boy, but I am Kapitan de Bunsen of U-Boat 46, decorated with the RitterKreuz by the Fuhrer himself."

I was ashamed to pull rank like that, but it seems to work with these people.

Both lieutenants snapped to attention with a click of the heels.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"The 2nd SS need this road, Sir."

"What for?"

"Well the Division is refitting, Sir, and..."

"So you're on holiday?"

I looked over his shoulder.

Each half track had a mixture of one or two experienced old hares, and a load of young lads almost straight out of school. Not so different from our boat. They were the ones being sent to the shops and cafes, while they were halted, to bring back wine and fruit and sandwiches. And even strangely, flowers. The French have no reason to like us, but they all have young sons of their own.

LS