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Missing Name · 05-11-13, 11:40 PM

March 22, 1942. Shortly after midnight.

<<We could be in the middle of the convoy, for all we know.>>

There was a general sort of confusion on the tower of U-127. Two hours had passed since initial contact. While the sounds and smells of multiple ships continued to surround the boat, the storm muddled the direction of the exact sources. Attempts to contact other hunters in the region turned up nothing - Kptlt. Schueler and his men were the only ones tracking the convoy for the moment. And with the batteries in a nearly exhausted state, diving to get a definite fix was unthinkable.

<<Well, we know they're in the Atlantic somewhere.>> No one acknowledged Seaman Bernhard's brilliant logic. The gloom made everyone somewhat lethargic, even in such a time of high alert.

Below, the captain's rage was slowly coming up to a full rolling boil again. He continued to curse the weather, the boat that was slowly falling to pieces every day, the last of the cocoa that fell into the bilge earlier, the whole war. At this point, the chart simply had "KONVOI IST IM OZEAN???" scribbled on it, along with some other rather unmentionable things.

* * *

0114.

A miracle came in the form of a bolt of lightning, illuminating the ocean for a fraction of a second. But it was enough.

<<Ship sighted, full side silhouette, almost dead ahead! Close range! Schnitzel, call it less than 500 meters!>>

The 1WO squinted with his not lightning-blinded eye. Yes - barely visible! Single funnel, single masts towards fore and aft. He ran it through his mind, not coming up with an immediate match. Too generic. 2000 tons? 4000? 10000? Another wave blocked the view. He panicked as he tried to reacquire the target.

<<Herr Kaleun! Now or never! We won't have it in visual for much longer! The eels are all contact forward? Slow run?>>

<<Yes! Give me the solution!>>

More mind scrambling. Guesstimates, prayers, curses.

<<Point blank, range five-zero-zero! Prepare all four bow tubes, spread from two degrees port to seven starboard! Delay between shots, one second! Depth, six meters! Fire when ready!>>

The tubes had already been flooded upon the news of a possible target. It wasn't standard operating procedure, but none of the officers were complaining. Less than two minutes after the enemy was sighted, four levers were pulled, one second apart each.

* * *

0117.

The cook on board the Trumpeter heard a weird noise, not the wind nor the waves. A high-pitched whine, quickly getting louder.

05-11-13, 11:40 PM	#5
Missing Name Seasoned Skipper Join Date: Oct 2010 Location: Westun New Yahk Posts: 748 Downloads: 131 Uploads: 0	March 22, 1942. Shortly after midnight. <<We could be in the middle of the convoy, for all we know.>> There was a general sort of confusion on the tower of U-127. Two hours had passed since initial contact. While the sounds and smells of multiple ships continued to surround the boat, the storm muddled the direction of the exact sources. Attempts to contact other hunters in the region turned up nothing - Kptlt. Schueler and his men were the only ones tracking the convoy for the moment. And with the batteries in a nearly exhausted state, diving to get a definite fix was unthinkable. <<Well, we know they're in the Atlantic somewhere.>> No one acknowledged Seaman Bernhard's brilliant logic. The gloom made everyone somewhat lethargic, even in such a time of high alert. Below, the captain's rage was slowly coming up to a full rolling boil again. He continued to curse the weather, the boat that was slowly falling to pieces every day, the last of the cocoa that fell into the bilge earlier, the whole war. At this point, the chart simply had "KONVOI IST IM OZEAN???" scribbled on it, along with some other rather unmentionable things. * * * 0114. A miracle came in the form of a bolt of lightning, illuminating the ocean for a fraction of a second. But it was enough. <<Ship sighted, full side silhouette, almost dead ahead! Close range! Schnitzel, call it less than 500 meters!>> The 1WO squinted with his not lightning-blinded eye. Yes - barely visible! Single funnel, single masts towards fore and aft. He ran it through his mind, not coming up with an immediate match. Too generic. 2000 tons? 4000? 10000? Another wave blocked the view. He panicked as he tried to reacquire the target. <<Herr Kaleun! Now or never! We won't have it in visual for much longer! The eels are all contact forward? Slow run?>> <<Yes! Give me the solution!>> More mind scrambling. Guesstimates, prayers, curses. <<Point blank, range five-zero-zero! Prepare all four bow tubes, spread from two degrees port to seven starboard! Delay between shots, one second! Depth, six meters! Fire when ready!>> The tubes had already been flooded upon the news of a possible target. It wasn't standard operating procedure, but none of the officers were complaining. Less than two minutes after the enemy was sighted, four levers were pulled, one second apart each. * * * 0117. The cook on board the Trumpeter heard a weird noise, not the wind nor the waves. A high-pitched whine, quickly getting louder. __________________ Largest target sunk with deck gun: Japanese auxiliary cruiser, 15000 tons Largest engaged: HMS Nelson. Results inconclusive. Read Brag's stuff Last edited by Missing Name; 05-19-13 at 07:00 PM.