SUBSIM Radio Room Forums - View Single Post - [AAR] So Far, So Good

CCIP · 03-31-15, 10:27 AM

Thanks folks

One more before work today...

Q: What was your next encounter like?

Well, it didn’t happen right away. First we had to get clear of the area and recharge our batteries, which were some 60% drained by the time we surfaced. That took a while - until 10:45 the following morning, so that’s 15 hours from surfacing. We headed north in the meantime, with nighttime mists on the surface probably helping us out - I wasn’t sure if someone was looking for us, but nobody found us.

Once our batteries were recharged, we broke radio silence to raise HQ with the report of sinking, asking for further orders. They’d replied very matter-of-factly, leaving further actions to our discretion. So we sat down together with my starpom [first officer], the politruk [political commissar], and the shturman [navigator], and looked at the maps for a while. We decided to stay in our present patrol station, No 3, for a few more days to observe and report on what the Germans and Norwegians do here.

Now, the Germans at the time were running a fair bit of traffic up and down Norway’s coast; there was iron and nickel ore they were getting from northern Norway and Finland, where road transport was virtually non-existent. Our fleet had been observing that traffic for a while before the war started, so we knew that. Our patrol positions were already set up well in advance to blockade and intercept that coastal freight traffic, just in case.

So, we decided to focus on the southeastern part of our patrol sector for now, which was the exits from Lakse-fjord. We turned back towards the shore, and were sitting outside the fjord entrance by night. For a while there wasn’t much - we were just keeping a lookout, staying in deeper waters, and listening to the radio. The war still felt a bit surreal, but there was a torrent of news coming in, much of it worrying.

In the morning on the 28th of June, we were just off Cape Nordkin, and from there we headed west along the shore, zig-zagging. The mist was getting dense in places, so we were proceeding carefully and diving every once in a while to listen. Things continued to be very quiet. About noon, the winds picked up, as we reached a position just off Cape Kjollsneringen, and then headed closer to the shore to check out if there was any traffic at Kjolle-fjord. As the cliffs on the shore loomed into view in the distance, suddenly our watch called out a contact.

I immediately called battle stations and we went under. Raising the scope, I identified what looked like a big ocean-going tug or trawler off our port bow, coming towards us. I began maneuvering into attack position; it was difficult to maintain periscope depth in the heavy swells so I ordered 25m until we reached position.

When we came back up, there was a surprise in store: as I raised the scope, not only did I clearly see that the tug was German-flagged and had at least three guns on deck - but that it was also leading a small Norwegian-flagged merchant, perhaps a kilometer behind it. I immediately made that a priority target, dove just below periscope depth, and ordered tubes 1, 2 and 3 flooded and set to about 3m. I estimated them to be going WNW at no more than 10 knots, but just in case, I planned to attack with a “comb” of 3 torpedoes.

Q: Why a “comb”?

You can call it anything - it’s an attack where you fire several torpedoes in a straight line, with an interval between each. When you’re not sure of the target’s speed or distance, it helps. It’s different from shooting torpedoes in a “fan”, which is a more famous technique, but our submarines back then did not shoot like that, they could only fire torpedoes directly in a straight line from the bow or stern. We used speed tables to calculate the offset angle for the target, and aimed by steering the submarine itself. British boats were the same way.

During the First World War, the British sent some submarines to help us in the Baltic during, and we kept them - one of those old subs was even still in service in the Baltic. Estonian submarines, which came into our service the previous year, were also British-built. So a lot of what we learned about torpedo shooting and aiming came from the British. I think a lot of our naval officers were happy that we were allies with the British again.

Anyway, we barely had any observation time in this weather, so we had to work out the attack partly by guessing the enemy’s speed and heading. In fact, we’d got it wrong at first - when we came up to check our position, I discovered that we were coming too close to that tug’s and freighter’s course, and we couldn’t just stop without losing control of our depth. So I had to dive down and do a quick loop maneuver to avoid running right into them. It took us a full 3 minutes to do that loop, but when we came back around, I found the sub in a perfect firing position.

From here, I fired a comb as planned - aiming at the bow of the target, releasing torpedoes when it passed 17, 13, and 9 degree marks off our bow. Basically, as long as we were close on the target’s beam, and it was going at somewhere between 5 and 10kt, we were virtually guaranteed to score a hit. The range didn’t particularly matter - for close attacks like this, we used a very simple set of offset tables.

The first torpedo missed, but the other two hit after about a 40-second run. When I raised the scope, I only caught a brief glimpse of the target in the rough seas, but it looked like it was going down fast, with its back broken. It probably helped that it was loaded with heavy ore as its cargo. We didn’t stay around to mess with their escort tug - after confirming that the target was going down, which we knew by the horrible noises it was making, I ordered 40m depth, and turned back away from the coast. There was no sign of the escort following us, and in fact when I came up again to check the scope 20 minutes later, he was nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, we once again decided to stay submerged - reloaded our torpedoes, and then I called “otboi” [stand down from battle stations]. I recorded our target as a Norwegian motor schooner, of about 1100t.

Q: What was your thought on the merchant being Norwegian?

War is war. He was under German armed escort and there was no doubt where that iron ore was going. When that same iron is falling on your cities and villages, you do not ask a lot of questions. Regardless, the sinking was completely in line with maritime rules, and we were within our right to attack. We didn’t need to wait for reminders about why we were in this war - when we surfaced some 6 hours later and tuned to the radio, the briefings from SovInformBureau were reporting that Minsk was completely surrounded, and the Finns were advancing on Karelia, which could mean cutting off our base from the rest of Russia by land.

We’d waited until our batteries charged up a bit, and then broke radio silence at midnight on the 29th of June to report the sinking.

To be continued...

03-31-15, 10:27 AM	#8
CCIP Navy Seal Join Date: Apr 2005 Location: Waterloo, Canada Posts: 8,700 Downloads: 29 Uploads: 2	Thanks folks One more before work today... Q: What was your next encounter like? Well, it didn’t happen right away. First we had to get clear of the area and recharge our batteries, which were some 60% drained by the time we surfaced. That took a while - until 10:45 the following morning, so that’s 15 hours from surfacing. We headed north in the meantime, with nighttime mists on the surface probably helping us out - I wasn’t sure if someone was looking for us, but nobody found us. Once our batteries were recharged, we broke radio silence to raise HQ with the report of sinking, asking for further orders. They’d replied very matter-of-factly, leaving further actions to our discretion. So we sat down together with my starpom [first officer], the politruk [political commissar], and the shturman [navigator], and looked at the maps for a while. We decided to stay in our present patrol station, No 3, for a few more days to observe and report on what the Germans and Norwegians do here. Now, the Germans at the time were running a fair bit of traffic up and down Norway’s coast; there was iron and nickel ore they were getting from northern Norway and Finland, where road transport was virtually non-existent. Our fleet had been observing that traffic for a while before the war started, so we knew that. Our patrol positions were already set up well in advance to blockade and intercept that coastal freight traffic, just in case. So, we decided to focus on the southeastern part of our patrol sector for now, which was the exits from Lakse-fjord. We turned back towards the shore, and were sitting outside the fjord entrance by night. For a while there wasn’t much - we were just keeping a lookout, staying in deeper waters, and listening to the radio. The war still felt a bit surreal, but there was a torrent of news coming in, much of it worrying. In the morning on the 28th of June, we were just off Cape Nordkin, and from there we headed west along the shore, zig-zagging. The mist was getting dense in places, so we were proceeding carefully and diving every once in a while to listen. Things continued to be very quiet. About noon, the winds picked up, as we reached a position just off Cape Kjollsneringen, and then headed closer to the shore to check out if there was any traffic at Kjolle-fjord. As the cliffs on the shore loomed into view in the distance, suddenly our watch called out a contact. I immediately called battle stations and we went under. Raising the scope, I identified what looked like a big ocean-going tug or trawler off our port bow, coming towards us. I began maneuvering into attack position; it was difficult to maintain periscope depth in the heavy swells so I ordered 25m until we reached position. When we came back up, there was a surprise in store: as I raised the scope, not only did I clearly see that the tug was German-flagged and had at least three guns on deck - but that it was also leading a small Norwegian-flagged merchant, perhaps a kilometer behind it. I immediately made that a priority target, dove just below periscope depth, and ordered tubes 1, 2 and 3 flooded and set to about 3m. I estimated them to be going WNW at no more than 10 knots, but just in case, I planned to attack with a “comb” of 3 torpedoes. Q: Why a “comb”? You can call it anything - it’s an attack where you fire several torpedoes in a straight line, with an interval between each. When you’re not sure of the target’s speed or distance, it helps. It’s different from shooting torpedoes in a “fan”, which is a more famous technique, but our submarines back then did not shoot like that, they could only fire torpedoes directly in a straight line from the bow or stern. We used speed tables to calculate the offset angle for the target, and aimed by steering the submarine itself. British boats were the same way. During the First World War, the British sent some submarines to help us in the Baltic during, and we kept them - one of those old subs was even still in service in the Baltic. Estonian submarines, which came into our service the previous year, were also British-built. So a lot of what we learned about torpedo shooting and aiming came from the British. I think a lot of our naval officers were happy that we were allies with the British again. Anyway, we barely had any observation time in this weather, so we had to work out the attack partly by guessing the enemy’s speed and heading. In fact, we’d got it wrong at first - when we came up to check our position, I discovered that we were coming too close to that tug’s and freighter’s course, and we couldn’t just stop without losing control of our depth. So I had to dive down and do a quick loop maneuver to avoid running right into them. It took us a full 3 minutes to do that loop, but when we came back around, I found the sub in a perfect firing position. From here, I fired a comb as planned - aiming at the bow of the target, releasing torpedoes when it passed 17, 13, and 9 degree marks off our bow. Basically, as long as we were close on the target’s beam, and it was going at somewhere between 5 and 10kt, we were virtually guaranteed to score a hit. The range didn’t particularly matter - for close attacks like this, we used a very simple set of offset tables. The first torpedo missed, but the other two hit after about a 40-second run. When I raised the scope, I only caught a brief glimpse of the target in the rough seas, but it looked like it was going down fast, with its back broken. It probably helped that it was loaded with heavy ore as its cargo. We didn’t stay around to mess with their escort tug - after confirming that the target was going down, which we knew by the horrible noises it was making, I ordered 40m depth, and turned back away from the coast. There was no sign of the escort following us, and in fact when I came up again to check the scope 20 minutes later, he was nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, we once again decided to stay submerged - reloaded our torpedoes, and then I called “otboi” [stand down from battle stations]. I recorded our target as a Norwegian motor schooner, of about 1100t. Q: What was your thought on the merchant being Norwegian? War is war. He was under German armed escort and there was no doubt where that iron ore was going. When that same iron is falling on your cities and villages, you do not ask a lot of questions. Regardless, the sinking was completely in line with maritime rules, and we were within our right to attack. We didn’t need to wait for reminders about why we were in this war - when we surfaced some 6 hours later and tuned to the radio, the briefings from SovInformBureau were reporting that Minsk was completely surrounded, and the Finns were advancing on Karelia, which could mean cutting off our base from the rest of Russia by land. We’d waited until our batteries charged up a bit, and then broke radio silence at midnight on the 29th of June to report the sinking. To be continued... __________________ There are only forty people in the world and five of them are hamburgers. -Don Van Vliet (aka Captain Beefheart)