[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 27 March ’40 – 3 April ‘40

This one a hairy patrol!
From the moment I left Suzanne’s arms that morning of our departure, I couldn’t shake an ominous feeling. Fritz too seemed on edge as we put to sail.
Assigned to the ‘soft’ east coast of the British Isles, my crew and I left port expectant of a large tonnage on our return. What we got, was a rude awakening

Near the Norwegian coast, we encountered a coastal merchant, and for want of better option, we decided to practice on her. Following my two shot policy, the first torpedo missed, but the second slammed into her amidships from 1500m. A shot that did us proud, and gave us the boost we’d been looking for. Ominous thoughts were lost in the exultation of the kill.

Arriving on station, we patrolled for 24 hours, but all the contact information radioed to us indicated the shipping lanes were in the quadrant adjacent to ours. Having finished our assigned patrol, I elected to enter the next quadrant, far closer to the coastline. This proved a wise decision, but very nearly our undoing.
My Watch Officer sighted a large cargo ship, and I ordered an intercept. The settings were perfect for the crew of U-49 to do their jobs. An excursion to periscope depth that evening had yielded no contacts, on the surface the night was illuminated by a half moon, with the waters as calm as a piece of glass. Maneuvering out of sight, I brought the ship on a 90° angle portside to the target, descended to periscope depth and came to a full stop, 800 m from the projected track of the target. The perfect ambush was ready. The crew diligently performed their functions, and the torpedo room was alive with activity. Having my watch officer qualified as a torpedo man was a wise move on my part. Reckhoff the senior machinist was at his post, and reported we had full power on our batteries. 15 minutes of waiting had the cargo ship appear, and soon she was near enough to identify as a C3 cargo. We began plotting our solution. I ordered the torpedo tubes opened and readied, solidified our solution and fired. First one torpedo, aimed just behind the stack, in the hopes of shutting down her engine. Our first indication something was wrong was when the torpedo, set to magnetically trigger, failed to detonate. Unphased, we updated the solution, and launched a second torpedo, set to impact trigger, quite shallow in the water as to avoid the curved hull and rudder mechanism. This torpedo inexplicably overshot the target. The Weapons officer was beginning to sweat bullets, but I had watched and overseen his ever calculation, I had plotted the same solution as he, and I couldn’t understand the situation either. Setting him at ease with a hand on his shoulder, I quietly ordered a salvo prepared and fired. Almost immediately two torpedoes left their tubes. One missed, shooting after of the target, the second, also a magnetic trigger set halfway between the waterline and the hull slammed into the target. But did not detonate. Until now, the target had been unaware of us, but the impact from the torpedo threw her into action. Immediately I ordered a surface excursion and had the d/g manned. Three shots where fired off, all three directly into the engine area, at the water line and my watch officer screamed, “Warship!”
Dead behind us we saw the silhouette of a destroyer making for us. Somehow it had avoided notice, and it was too lat to do anything about it. In a desperate bid to save the ship, I ordered flank speed and a crash dive, but getting the men off the deck took precious seconds we didn’t have. As the last man slammed the hatch and secured it, we began our descent. Not 5 meters down we were thrown across the submarine as he destroyer rammed into our conning tower, the only part of the ship still above the waterline. Instantly the conning tower and bridge were destroyed, and to make matters worse, the damned destroyer tore open her hull and began sinking on top of us! A hard turn port managed to get us clear, but we weren’t clear of trouble yet. Settling back to Ahead slow and checking our dive at 20 meters I assessed the damage and centered the rudder. Our periscope was gone, and no doubt, so was our conning tower. Then my sonar man announced he had picked up a warship. Seconds later we heard depth charges being dropped, but checking our flank run to ahead slow had put us behind the position the charges fell. A moment of grace as we had no chance of surviving a barrage in the state we were in. Tracking the C3 as she made her escape, we were dogged by the warship above us. Somehow, she managed to circle us, regardless of our direction of travel, but no more charges were dropped. After 15 minutes of this game of cat and mouse, I realized why we were being held down:
1) To allow the C3 to escape
2) To mark our position, until something capable of sinking us arrived on station.

With no way to tell what we were up against, I took a gamble. Ordering Kals and his crew to their hatch, I surfaced the boat, simultaneously calling for flank speed and a hard starboard turn. The maneuver worked, and Kals scrambled up the hatch and led his crew to the deck. Our conning tower was so mangled that I couldn’t get the Watch Officer aloft to call bearings. I ordered him to the bow torpedo room, as a final gesture if the d/g gamble failed. Scrambling up the d/g hatch, I stood behind the gun as I watched Kals work. Slewing the gun almost 160° around He located the target. By some miracle, we were under attack from an armed trawler. No doubt the crew hadn’t been expecting such a brash move, as we squeezed off two shots straight into them at close range before they could answer with an errant return salvo. The inexperience of the attacking crew made our jobs easier. In the dark night, with no way of scanning the area for our target, we were essentially blind, except for the blessed spotlight. I later remarked to Fritz that I had never been so glad to see and enemy searchlight. Kals centered the gun on the ship and looked back at me, “Your orders Kaleun?” he asked, a feverish light in his eyes. My voice as steady as I could make it, I gave the command,
“Sink her Kals. Aim straight at that damned light!”
“Jawohl Kaleun!” He screamed as the roar of the gods sent a shell directly into the command deck. Without checking our mad dashing turn, we pumped 7 shells into the target before she exploded and began burning.
The immediate threat gone, I was seized by a cold fury. That C3 had almost killed us, and she was escaping with little more than a scratch. I descended the hatch and moved to the conn, where I studied the projected plot. Still at flank speed I brought the boat around on an intercept track with the C3. If it was the last thing we’d do, we’d finish that pig. Fritz looked over at me and nodded as I gave the command. The Navigation officer, pale and sweaty licked his lips nervously. Damned cowardly swine. He flickered a gaze at the Weapon’s officer, then nervously cleared his throat and said, “Herr Kaleun, our boat is damaged. Badly! We should return to port!” Silence fell on the command bridge as I turned to face the little man. Without warning I threw a punch into his face that slammed him against the bulkhead. Before he could stagger to his feet Fritz grabbed him and held him up against the bulkhead. Leaning in close I sniffed once and smelt the stench of fear on the pathetic swine.
“When you are ready to fight like a German, you’ll return to your post. Until then you pathetic little man, you shall assist the torpedo crews in the bow.” I summoned Carlewitz my watch officer to the conn and had him escort the Nav officer to the bow torpedo section. Then Carlewitz manned the navigation station. Not five minutes later I heard a shout from the d/g. Popping my head up through the hatch, Kals pointed off our bow, and there she was, steaming for all she was worth. With a nod at Kals, I ascended the ladder as the first shell roared across the ocean and into the hull of the ship. Bringing the sub alongside her at about 1500m, I watched as Kals pumped 6 shells into the engine room at the waterline. With a display worthy of our efforts, the C3 exploded and began to sink.

Returning to the conn I took the report from the damage assessment crew. Our hull was in bad shape, and it was risky to dive so much as to periscope depth. With that, I ordered a return to base. Running at flank speed to get as much distance between us and this damned coast as possible while we still had night.

Then I walked across to my bunk, and ordered the radio and sonar man to quarters for a short rest. Closing the interconnecting doors, I sat on my bunk and began shaking. I had almost killed us. The Nav officer had been right. One shell, one more encounter like the initial one this evening, one plane, one shot could have sent us to the bottom.

About an hour later, I summoned the Navigation officer to my bunk area. His nose swollen and red, he saluted me, much to my surprise. He then broke down and began sobbing. I stood and put a hand on his shoulder as he sobbed. Then he looked at me and began sniffling an apology. Surprised, I accepted it, I had been planning to apologize to him. I allowed him to sit at the sonar station, and he began telling me how scared he had been. How much he had wanted to scream with fear. He spoke of his shame. His terror. Finally I said to him, “I was scared too Udo. But we can’t let that stop us from our mission. I need my officers up there. I can’t do it without all of you.” He nodded, and stood. Walked out and resumed his post. He didn’t say much for the rest of the cruise home, but his back was straighter, and his manner more determined. I think we’ll make a warrior of him too.

Later, after we had moored at the dock, Fritz and I were discussing the incident in my office. I hadn’t realized it, but the crew had treated Udo like a pariah. The seaman wouldn’t even acknowledge his orders in the torpedo room. Apparently, by going up on deck to take on the trawler with Kals, I had earned their respect. They had been ready to strap Udo to a torpedo had he so much as griped once.

My phone rang and I took the report from the damage assessment crew that had examined the boat when I docked. Apparently our hull was more than 70% compromised. How we survived is nothing short of miraculous. As I put the phone down and was about to inform Fritz, my door slammed open and Suzanne stood there. Her hair was disheveled, and her face was tear streaked. My secretary was trying to restrain her, but she bullied her way into the office and stood before me sniffling. I stood and walked over to her, and noticed Fritz and the secretary quietly leaving. As the door clicked shut, Suzanne threw her arms around me and sobbed into my chest. After a while she calmed down and looked up at me. She told me that the base was alive with rumors. The ‘untouchable’ U-49 had limped into harbor full of holes. Stories flew between the entire crew being dead, and the Kapt being blown apart in an attack.
“Why didn’t you call me and let me know you were safe you evil, nasty, terrible swine!” She demanded, beating her tiny fists against my chest with each word as the tears came again. I held her close and let the tears dry on her face. And mine. Finally we walked of the office, and sat in her apartment, holding hands and talking for hours.

The repair party have informed me that I’ll be in port for some time. I’ve requested a few weeks leave of absence to take Suzanne to meet my family in their country home. Permission was granted with a nod and a smile. As I was leaving, the commander slid a case across his desk at me. Opening it, was the Knights Cross with Oak Leaves.
“Now go Lieutenant. Go to your family. And welcome to the war.”
“Thank you Commander.”

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.