[Laughing Swordfish]

Of course the dilemma now presents itself.

Coming to periscope depth, and using the observation scope, I can see enemy planes routinely patrolling overhead. Bruno reckoned it was a Halifax that bounced us. I think on the evidence, it was more likely a Liberator, from what I can see. But either way, the RAF have plenty of twin-engines up there waiting for us.

Staying down is slowing us down during the day. I had hoped to sprint forward, and take another poke in the darkness that the next night will offer, but we risk losing them while submerged.

Stephan is making a wider loop to the North, and doesn't have 'eyes on' yet. Freddie is making best speed to the South, but I suspect his boat and crew are pretty banged up already. They've already done their bit and it would be a bonus if they could make it in time. Max, that wily old fox, should be limping back to France by now. I can't realistically expect him to rejoin the hunt.

So we are the contact boat and losing time with every minute and hour that passes. All the time what's left of the convoy is creeping closer to the safety of the Cornish coast, and we can expect things to be much more hairy next time we go in. Even if we can regain them and assume another good attacking position.

Then Hans gives me a secondary sonar contact.

"Heavy screws bearing North, Sir! They sound laboured."

I steer a course to give us a visual.

Sure enough it's a C3 class merchant, that has broken free, or got lost in the night. Even at that range I can see she's sporting some torpedo damage, which has to be the work of Freddie or Max.

Doesn't seem to have lost too much speed though. I wonder whether Stephan will pick her up; but the sea is still very big and he has his orders to out-race the convoy.

I look at the charts with the Navigator. Time is slipping away.

"The hell with it, Willi. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Give chase!"

Pretty soon we're on her tail. But there isn't a torpedo solution We only have her stern and can't catch up any more from down here.. If we're going to do it, it's going to have to be under our guns on the surface. However it is broad daylight, just after lunch in fact, and I have the feeling that the pilots of RAF Coastal Command have brought their sandwiches...

"Take us up Otto, but be prepared to crash at a moment's notice. Joachim I want the ready-use 88 shells and no messing about. A quick kill and then back in, you understand?"

"Yes Sir!" replied my Weapons Officer as he summoned his crew and set them about their tasks as U-46 started to rise.

"Go! Go!" I urged as we broke surface.

The gun crew didn't let me down, beating the watch crew upstairs much to the chagrin of Christian who prides himself on the speed of his boys.

The first ranging shot wasn't bad either. One or two more and we'll hit her in the engine compartment. Christian's team weren't idle either, earnestly scanning the sky and horizon.

And a good job too. We'd just got off a second much nearer shot, when the alarm came.

Only a dot in the sky, but growing bigger, and coming faster than any seagull. Well done Christian.

We managed to get everyone back in, because Otto wasn't messing about, and the boat was already slanting rapidly down.

This time the charges were well off the mark. But they were on us like a ton of bricks, and again we lost distance with the evasive action.

Well, we tried three more times to surface and re-engage. Each time we were forced below by aircraft. It was as if that merchant had her own personal aerial bodyguard

We were having to run with the electric motors flat out just to keep up, and everytime we surfaced we were thwarted from the air. It didn't play so well with the survivors from U-467, who had already taken one dunking from an aircraft. And even Otto was back to his pessimistic best.

"Don't you think you're being a little stubborn, Sir?"

"She sinks tonight, Chief. If it takes forever we'll have her. As soon as it gets dark and the RAF bugger off, we'll scoot round ahead on full diesels and nab her from there. I know I'm caning your engines, but bear with me."

Sure enough, we dogged her long enough, that in the night we were able to burst ahead in a loop on the surface, and one well-placed torpedo did the trick, around midnight.

I hate rejoicing after a kill, but I was pleased to finally nail that one.

"BdU for you, Sir"

Victor hands me a message form.

Apparently our small rescue has created quite a stir back home, and they seem more excited about that than the convoy we have been decimating. Propaganda, I suppose.

Anyway we are to break off, and head back, and under all circumstances to deliver the 12 remaining crew of U-467 back to base, where no doubt the cameras are waiting.

To be sure, there were no complaints when I delivered that news to the boat.

"Set us for St Nazaire, Willi"

Otto winks at me.

"Can I have one of my tomorrows yet, please Sir...?"

Lt de Bunsen, U-46