We stared down aghast at Willi's cap floating gently along our starboard side.
Venn and Pietmann were already vaunting down the ladder.
Pietmann reached down and hooked Willi's cap as Venn steadied him. Both all the time calling out for their watch officer.
That minute seemed as if it was an hour.
The lads below shouting their boss's name, us on the bridge scanning the surface for any sign of a bobbing head. All thoughts of the convoy battle forgotten.
"What's going on, Sir?"
At that moment, I thought it was a pipe from Otto downstairs. But I turned at the tap on my shoulder.
Willi stood there, dripping wet, and grinning from ear to ear.
"That was close Rollie, who'd ever go to sea eh? And has anyone seen my cap?"
It turns out Willi had managed to throw himself to the leeside of the bridge just as the wave hit, and hung on with his fingers to the grating or any other nut or bolt he could find. Of course it wasn't his own bravery and pluck that saved him. Oh no..
"...The Lucky Swordfish, Rollie, you see! I touched it just before the wave hit!"
Venn and Pietmann scurried up the ladder from the Flak garden, all smiles and plonked Willi's drenched cap back on his head.
Definitely no more high jinks like that again.
We forget that we have been in a torpedo run. At long range we would hope to see a strike very soon now.
"Full ahead both!"
We settle down shivering but looking intently at the distant dark smoky shapes for any impact.
LS
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