Herr and Frau Schmenk who live in Darmstadt received a Red Cross postcard dated 28 June 1941.
Liebe Vati und Mutti,
I am alive in Lisbon.
Your loving son,
Lt. Schmenk
On the same day the Red Cross worker visited Schmenk, A kind Portuguese nurse brought him a new notebook so he could write from his hospital bed.
A Portuguese doctor loaned him his fountain pen.
Though his hand was not too steady, Schmenk began to write about the great tragedy.
We left Lorient at 10 in the morning of 02 May 1941 to patrol NW of Freetown. The transit to our patrol area was uneventful. On 18 May our commander sent a radio message to the Freetown Port Captain, it read something like this:
Dear English Port Captain,
Kindly inform us when your next northbound convoy is scheduled to leave your fine harbour. I would hate to miss it.
A U-boot.
The British never answered.
On 20 May, at 2314 hours, I was on watch. It was a fine tropical night and pleasure to be on the bridge. Without warning we were enveloped in a bright white light.
"Alaaaaarm," I yelled and range the emergency bell. We were pelted by machinegun fire and an airplane roared overhead.
We dove without receiving much damage. An hour later, we came up to periscope depth- The airplane was gone. At least, we couldn't see it.
Shortly after we surfaced, a tropical squall gave us shelter. Capt Balz ordered full speed ahead to get away from the area the enemy had spotted us.
"How in the bloody hoochie woochie could they find us at night?" Balz raged above the intensity of the squall. " From now on, we recharge batteries with ballast semi-flooded. Not one centimetre above six meters," He instructed the LI. and watch officers.
Lt. Schmenk´s gripping story will continue anon.
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