[MantiBrutalis]

As experienced by Herbert Krauss, 4th January 1941, 7 AM, U-104, somewhere in the Atlantic.

I hear the captain shouting orders in the command room. Anytime now we will breach the surface. I can almost feel the merchant some 200 meters behind this wall.

I look at Arnold sitting on the other torpedo: “How many do you reckon?” “Should be a small ship. About 30?” “I bet they can sink her in 20,” I say. Nothing to do for us torpedo loaders. We sneaked up upon a small merchant we met, took us an hour under water. In this darkness, we couldn’t be sure about their flag, so we ended up pretty close.

We hear a hatch open, many legs rushing up the ladder. The few of us without work to do remain still and listen for the action up there. Few others begin to feed rounds up to the conning tower.

Bam! “One.”

I can hear two pairs of feet running from the tower to the deck gun, each man with a huge round in their hands.

Bam! “Two.”

There is some kind of a commotion suddenly, everybody up there stops and hesitates for a moment. We can hear the captain shouting: “Don’t just stand there, get that spotlight!”

Bam! “Three.”

Arnold smiles: “I told you, 30 rounds. They gonna waste a few trying to knock out that light. They could make it in 20, if it wasn’t blinding them.” “20, if they can pack –“ Bam! “- them all under the waterline.” “No way.”

We didn’t fire a single torpedo this patrol. Just maintenance for a week now, kinda boring.

Bam! “Five.”

“You think the captain will have enough now and head home?” I ask. “No way, he won’t leave these ladies unused,” Arnold says while gently rubbing his chair-torpedo. I just want to head home now, we aren’t even doing anything.

Bam!




Note - I seriously had a nightmare last night, with car accidents and stuff. And suddenly, in the middle of it, some random guy pesking me for my terrible past tences in this story. I am really sorry if I ******* English up from time to time.