"That will be all Kapitan Leutnant"
With those words, the Great Man dismissed me
I snapped to the salute, hoping that the CinC hadn't noticed the oil and salt stains on my white cap cover, and turned about smartly, pausing only to glance at the operational map busily being updated by some (very pretty) young naval clerks
So few boats, such a big ocean
The debrief hadn't gone so badly. My fault that we'd popped up right in the thick of things on the second attack run of course, and got the boat rammed.
But we had torpedoed the Devonshire Rose, a 10,000 ton tanker. And that had brought a smile to old Doenitz's face. It goes down well in Berlin, I suppose
Our Quartermaster, Willi, was more pragmatic at the time:
"Less tankers means less fuel, means less bombers" without lowering the binoculars one inch as he scanned the horizon. The Tommies are starting to bomb Germany now, and he has a young daughter growing up in Hamburg
I hovered around the receptionist's desk to file my report, but Heidi wasn't there; just some boot-faced old woman who sees a lot of front-boat commanders come and go, and clearly doesn't expect to see them again
Not for the first time, I wondered whether it was better to have a girl at home or not.
A lot of the lads just go whoring, I know. But I've seen Otto and the coxswain looking over cherished and well-thumbed photographs on patrol. The look on their faces is sometimes unbearable. But they're home on leave with them now, while I'm still here in Kiel overseeing the repairs, and keeping the kids out of jail
U-46 is tied up, more welding sparks fly all around her, and dockhands swarm in and out
The First Lieutenant makes his report:
"Decking repaired , Sir. Bridge casing not as bad as we thought, but needs a couple of days. The 88 and the 20 both back in action. Port saddle tank rupture repairs in place, soon have it as good as new. Electrics fine. Pressure hull a little longer, the dock mateys reckon still about 30% damage. We have a spot confirmed with the harbour master booked for a check dive. New torpedoes greased and loaded and full provisions, fuel and water ordered. Fuel lines checked and functioning"
"Thank you Number One. How long?"
"Three weeks, Sir"
A phenomenal effort, but BdU want's us back out in one. Big ocean, too few boats.
"Is Kurt here? Wilhelm?" I name a couple of the other crew members who, drenched to the skin, got us out of our last jam
"Yes Sir, working below"
"Summon all hands on deck, please Number One"
With as little ceremony as possible I hand out the gongs and the uboat clasps. Kurt is to pack his things and go to damage control school. I want him qualified before we sail again, if there's time. After all, he's already showed promise by keeping us alive, and he can always make a living as a plumber after the war
We'll head for Konigstrasse tonight. First beers on the Captain!
When I slump on my bunk back at the barracks there is a thick brown naval envelope waiting for me from BdU.
Not sailing orders already?
I shake the contents loose
The Old Man doesn't miss a trick
An officially stamped slip from CinC Kriegsmarine saying:
"You might need this" signed *Onkel Karl"
A brand new white cap cover drops into my lap......
Lt de Bunsen, U-46
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