Christian's eyes are red, fatigued and rimmed with salt spray, but he won't go downstairs just yet.
He, like me, take up extra watch duties as I let Bruno work on the ZBO scope. He sends down a littany of calculations, orders and corrections as we close on the convoy stacks now appearing ever closer even to the naked eye. But still we have to look out for the destroyers and corvettes, if we can sneak inside that's the most dangerous part of the job done. If we don't get that part right, it get's much more interesting afterwards.
"In and Out, Bruno! Start with that fat boy there, and then move back to the next one, looks like a tanker by her shape, small, but oil is oil!"
He turned and grinned, his cap skewed across his young head.
Our boat makes a final adjustment and with Otto already at full throttle below, our beloved boat makes an instant sweep of 30 degrees, as Bruno calls down the final adjustments, and calls "Open all forward bow caps!".
LS
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