I slumped onto my bunk, and rubbed my sore eyes, making them worse.
So tired.
I looked across to my fold-down 'desk' and realised with a start that there was a red manilla folder still lying on it. The inked stamp on it - 'U-46: Geheime Befehlung'
Jesus, how long had I left secret patrol orders lying about?
I really must be getting tired.
These need to go back in the safe. I have a small lockable cubby hole for the purpose.
As I returned the orders, my hand brushed against a cloth bag at the back containing some hard object.
Curious and non-plussed for the moment, I pulled it out and opened the bag.
Well blow me, I'd quite forgotten I had one of these!
It was a Luger. A 9mm Parabellum automatic pistol. Parabellum - 'Prepare for War' I thought and smiled. They got that right.
I'd quite forgotten it was there, or in what circumstances I was supposed to use it. Repel boarders, or quell mutinies perhaps? Take a pot shot at a destroyer or jabo even? Or maybe it's supposed to be an easy way out if we're stuck on the bottom or going down and there's no hope? I grimaced.
Whatever, it was no use to anyone now. After at least a year of neglect and exposure to the damp and salt air of a U-boat, it was completely brown and seized up with rust.
I practiced a couple of quick draws in front of my tiny mirror. Hey, this is fun!
Otto, Willi and their Control Room gang were probably surprised, to say the least, to see their Kapitan swagger out of his cabin brandishing a pistol and yelling
"Yeehaw, cowboys, give me a shot of red-eye, bartender, and tell Black Jake I'll see him on the Main Street at High Noon!"
"You ok, Sir?"
"Just messing about Otto. I just found my luger. Look at the state of it. I handed it over to him. Take it up top and have Bruno chuck it over the side."
"Ok, Sir."
He took the pistol but hesitated.
"Sir..?"
"Yes, Otto?"
"I was just thinking, I've got some stuff for removing rust and so on, perhaps we could get it shiny and brand new again. It would certainly give us something to do.....?"
And so it was that the luger spent the next day soaking in a tray of some solvent of Otto's. Word spread and everyone in the wardroom and the CPO's all were clamouring for a bit to clean once we were able to break it down.
In the end when we divided up the disassembled parts, people had to team up and take it in turns to restore their own bit. Competition was fierce and the parts were jealously guarded. I even broke out the box of bullets to give everyone something to clean and polish. There was always someone off-watch diligently rubbing and oiling again and again. None of us really had much experience of small arms, but of course in the spirit of competition we all discovered we were each the absolute experts in the field.
Finally the day came when each gleaming and glistening component part was proudly produced at a ceremony in the Control Room, and Otto solemnly re-assembled the pistol. Everyone had done a fantastic job, and was bursting with pride as their piece was added.
The Luger shone like a mirror. It's action was slick and effortless, it's slight sheen of spotless gunmetal blue.
"Well I suppose we ought to give it a go lads" I suggested, to great cheers.
Over the course of the next day or so and as the situation or duty or weather allowed, every single member of the crew took part in the shooting competition at one time or another.
Any passing enemy plane would have been bemused to see a good proportion of a feared U-boat's crew laughing and abusing each other as one by one, they took turns in blasting away at some apple juice bottles towed 20m off the stern.
To be honest we were all pretty terrible shots, but it was huge fun. And for some of the stokers, it was the first time on deck at sea.
The winner in fact did come from the engine room, much to Otto and Reuben's swelling pride. Young Braun adopted the technique of screwing his eyes shut and squeezing the trigger!
His prize was to be honorary owner of the luger (although it was thoroughly and religiously cleaned afterward -everyone taking their original piece and tutting about the amount of carbon that had built up) and returned to my cabin for safekeeping. Ownership to be contested on our next patrol.
Braun's other reward was to dispose of the array of bottles we had trailing aft, and what better way to do that than get the boat's top marksman to smash them with the AA gun!
Under the intense supervision of Joachim, and Johann, our flakkie, in case he blew our stern off, those bottles disappeared in a great churning shower of spray, and no small expenditure to the Reich!
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