October 5th, 1939
Southeast corner of Grid AN59
"Depth under keel?" Kapitänleutnant Wagner asked the navigator.
Pietschner worked the Atlas-Echolot sounding device before answering. "Depth under keel is... Twenty-seven meters, Herr Kaleun."
"Very well. Prepare to dive," Kapitänleutnant Wagner ordered tersely. The crewmen responded to his stream of orders quickly and efficiently as he surveyed the control room, stopwatch in hand.
As we descended to 20 meters several minutes later, he clucked his tongue. "Too slow, mein schatz," he confided quietly to me. "We shall have to drill them harder..." He continued to mutter under his breath as we strode to the radioroom.
"Anything?" Reckhoff shook his head negatively at my question while he continued to manipulate the hydrophone controls.
Suddenly: "Aha! I have it!" His voice dripped with triumph.
"What is it! A freighter? No, a large warship, the Hood perhaps!" The captain and I crowded close with anticipation.
"I have finally remembered the name of the lady I entertained last night." He directed an evil grin in our direction as we stormed back into the control room.
"Everything looks good, Herr Kaleun," Eduard Jonetat reported. "Engines are running normally, no leaks indicated. It will be several minutes before I can get the tanks properly trimmed, though."
Wagner nodded smartly to the chief engineer. "Very well. If that is all, then I will be in my room for the next three hours. Winkelman," he said to me, "You have the watch. Put on some music, if you please." As I went back into the control room, making sure to give Reckhoff my angriest glare, I reflected on the last week.
We had spent a grand total of 3 days on shore, unless you counted yesterday, which was mostly spent in our cramped, soundproofed home, preparing for another patrol. Reports of increased activity in the Irish sea had cut short our small vacation, and now we were back in the familiar waters off the British coast. Such is life.
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