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Capt Bathtub · 12-25-06, 10:24 AM

We have discovered that most of the watch crew tend to display a nervous disposition, such as whenever anyone should so happen to venture near the forward deck gun, or even the AA gun. I will usually find them cowering somewhere down the back of the boat. Admittedly as a crew, we aren't very proficient at gunnery but we still get a childish kick out of things that go bang and it is more exciting than watching a stopwatch in a "will they, won't they hit it" kind of way.

So we spent the last patrol bravely shooting at the RAF whenever they appeared, which seemed to be as soon as we boarded the boat. This all went swimmingly, we'd watch those pretty little Fairey something-or-others light up the sky as they careered into the ocean thanks to the skill of one H. Richtoffen - no relation, I asked. But someone had to spoil the fun by bombing the conning tower killing our gunner and Lieut Snr K.Wurdemann. No more ack-ack for us now, so it's back to the basics of Uboat operations : safety, counter-detection and sinking merchants.

Patrol 18 sees us at periscope depth more than not as the RAF seems to be able to find our small boat regardless of the size of the ocean. Stuck as we are within the confines the ol' bathtub, I feel it's the obligation of the crew to entertain their captain and I don't mean some preverted version of a Die Grunderzeit cabaret number with unwashed submariners dressed in rough cut hemp negligees. No, I want quality. The forward torpedo section's abrigded recital of Henry V was the best I have yet seen, even if they did ride into Agincourt on their torpedos rather lewdly.

Unfortunately with morale at a low, all that can be mustered is the traditional jokes about girls in ports (and not very good ones either) -

"Have you seen the Head Mech's girl?"
"No. And neither has he!"
fa-doom-chi
"I hear she defies description"
"I heard she relies on description, she's that ugly"

Aaaand so on. We are heading past the Western Approaches to a patrol area between Iceland and Ireland and the traffic in the shipping lanes has been minimal. All that was spotted was a C class paddling along at about 12 knots, just after midnight. Outrageous. So much so that I broke with tradition and actually set up a solution to attack, partly to boost the morale of the crew and partly for want of something to do. It is immensly satisfying to have a British destroyer wander into the path of one of our torpedos and it actually detonates. I kept the scope up while the Britisher sank and let the watch crew ponder the futility of modern naval warfare as they each had a peek.

Onwards to our patrol area and a large merchant is discovered with the hydrophone and we unleash a two eel attack, one midships and one under the stack. As I am doing the usual watch through the periscope to determine if she's sinking I spot a plane one mile off the port bow. It seems that the British Bulldog has got new tricks learned.

12-25-06, 10:24 AM	#5
Capt Bathtub Swabbie Join Date: Dec 2006 Location: in the bathtub Posts: 7 Downloads: 2 Uploads: 0	May 11th 1941 We have discovered that most of the watch crew tend to display a nervous disposition, such as whenever anyone should so happen to venture near the forward deck gun, or even the AA gun. I will usually find them cowering somewhere down the back of the boat. Admittedly as a crew, we aren't very proficient at gunnery but we still get a childish kick out of things that go bang and it is more exciting than watching a stopwatch in a "will they, won't they hit it" kind of way. So we spent the last patrol bravely shooting at the RAF whenever they appeared, which seemed to be as soon as we boarded the boat. This all went swimmingly, we'd watch those pretty little Fairey something-or-others light up the sky as they careered into the ocean thanks to the skill of one H. Richtoffen - no relation, I asked. But someone had to spoil the fun by bombing the conning tower killing our gunner and Lieut Snr K.Wurdemann. No more ack-ack for us now, so it's back to the basics of Uboat operations : safety, counter-detection and sinking merchants. Patrol 18 sees us at periscope depth more than not as the RAF seems to be able to find our small boat regardless of the size of the ocean. Stuck as we are within the confines the ol' bathtub, I feel it's the obligation of the crew to entertain their captain and I don't mean some preverted version of a Die Grunderzeit cabaret number with unwashed submariners dressed in rough cut hemp negligees. No, I want quality. The forward torpedo section's abrigded recital of Henry V was the best I have yet seen, even if they did ride into Agincourt on their torpedos rather lewdly. Unfortunately with morale at a low, all that can be mustered is the traditional jokes about girls in ports (and not very good ones either) - "Have you seen the Head Mech's girl?" "No. And neither has he!" fa-doom-chi "I hear she defies description" "I heard she relies on description, she's that ugly" Aaaand so on. We are heading past the Western Approaches to a patrol area between Iceland and Ireland and the traffic in the shipping lanes has been minimal. All that was spotted was a C class paddling along at about 12 knots, just after midnight. Outrageous. So much so that I broke with tradition and actually set up a solution to attack, partly to boost the morale of the crew and partly for want of something to do. It is immensly satisfying to have a British destroyer wander into the path of one of our torpedos and it actually detonates. I kept the scope up while the Britisher sank and let the watch crew ponder the futility of modern naval warfare as they each had a peek. Onwards to our patrol area and a large merchant is discovered with the hydrophone and we unleash a two eel attack, one midships and one under the stack. As I am doing the usual watch through the periscope to determine if she's sinking I spot a plane one mile off the port bow. It seems that the British Bulldog has got new tricks learned.