[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 12 June ’40 – 19 June ‘40

More than a month has passed since we last put to sea. In days gone by, I would have chafed at this, but now, I have found something to calm my restless spirit.

Suzanne and I spent two weeks in my family’s country retreat. My parents were overjoyed to have their son return home, after an absence of more than two years. My father, now a retired party official beamed with pride as I helped Suzanne alight from the staff car provided for us. Suzanne was awestruck by the size of the estate, and the warmth my family received her with. Hardly had she set foot into the house than my mother whisked her off to the sitting room, leaving my father and I to lug the baggage up the stairs. Having warned my parents to expect company, I was unsurprised to find fresh flowers from our gardens in the guest quarters. My room is still unchanged. My parents had kept everything precisely as I had left it.

Setting down my duffel bag I looked through the picture windows in my room and marveled at the sight, once so familiar and boring. After months at sea with nothing but the blue sky and slate water, the sights of the garden and fields filled me with wonder. My father, puffing his pipe as ever stood at my door and allowed me the moment, then we were walking to the barn, examining the old horses and talking about the war. By dinner, I was reunited with Suzanne, who exclaimed over my mothers cooking and laughed merrily at my fathers jokes. She was an instant and true success! By the end of the first week she referred to Ma and Pa, and fixed some of her own meals in the family kitchen. I was surprised by her cooking skill. She almost rivals my mother!

Family picnics, nights out at the local pool room, horse riding. It was easy to forget the war. But soon came the time to depart. Too soon. My mother hugged me long and hard, and Suzanne longer and harder, my dad was stoic, never for an instant revealing the depth of his worry and anguish until the moment he shook my hand and a single tear left his eye. Suzanne was exhorted to keep me in line and have me writing home to my dear old parents. The drive back to base twittered with her joy at meeting my family, and the amazing time she had had.

Reporting back at base, I was pleasantly surprised to find my boat ready, a new Conning tower and Flak Gun installed, the hull repaired, and most surprising of all, my Navigation Officer supervising the repairs. With a crisp salute he reported on the work done. I acknowledged the report, gave him my thanks and returned to my office. Fritz was seated behind my desk.
“Fritz, the Kaleun’s seat almost suits you.” I laughed. Rising and shaking my hand warmly, he responded,
“Please don’t say that Kaleun!”
His report indicated the level of effort the crew, refusing to abandon their boat to the dock crews, had put in. Machinist Mate Reckhoff who’d so skillfully mastered the batteries had personally overseen the installation of our engine upgrade. I was so touched by the spirit de corps of my crew that I immediately recommended Reckhoff for promotion to Sub Lieutenant. I took great pleasure in handing him his promotion papers, and in thanks, he invited Suzanne and I to dinner with his family. I accepted, and that evening, Suzanne and I met Reckhoff’s wife (which I had no idea he had) and three children (all of whom were darling little girls). Suzanne was an instant hit with the children, they clung to her all night, and giggled whenever she put her hand in mine or smiled at me. The youngest, a little dear named Marisa asked her, “Are you an angel? Do you look after my dad when he’s working?” Her eyes shining, Suzanne replied, “You do that my darling, when you think of him with happy thoughts!”
Reckhoff was a totally different man around his family. Usually withdrawn and taciturn, he was ebullient and joyful in the midst of his family. Never had I been more happy to promote a man. He will serve aboard the submarine better than any other, in my opinion.

Finally our orders came. The crew and I boarded the boat with none of our previous bonhomie, but we went aboard knowing what job we had to do. Suzanne, like most of the other officers partners came to see us off. She slipped a little note into my tunic, and told me to read it when I had cleared the peninsula. She made Fritz promise to watch me, and demanded that I return home to her. Then, in front of the entire crew, this beautiful angel kissed me, eliciting cheers and whistles from my seamen.

Making our way from the sub pens, rounding the peninsula 24 hours later, I opened the letter. It was a simple note. The words, etched forever in my mind simply said,
“I love you.”
Never before had we spoken those words, and here, now, amidst the trappings of war, I discovered this beautiful gift. Grinning like a clown, I ordered the watch to their posts, and the war began for us again. Ordered to almost the same grid, we entered the patrol zone and within 10 hours had intercepted a C2 Cargo ship. Due to the fine weather, I ordered Kals aloft to shoot the ship down from 5000 meters. The display of gunnery raised the morale of the ship, and 15 hours later we had left our original patrol zone and moved closer to the English coast. Immediately we happened across another lone C2 and, previous superstitions of the ship were dispelled when at periscope depth, from a range of 600 meters, two torpedoes ripped apart her hull and sank her. Confident in our large surplus of hardware, we next engaged a small merchant. The inclement weather favored us, with medium sized swells, but we approached from a poor position, the rising sun behind the target boat. Unable to man the d/g due to excessive wind, I expended my full load of torpedoes before scoring a hit. Our task was made difficult by the fact that the ship had sighted us, and that they could watch our torpedoes bubble trail. I admit, the crew and I were impressed with the skill which the merchant evaded our torpedoes, but finally, our last shot slammed home, and the game was done. Sailing 200 m from the burning hulk, we spotted who could on be the captain standing on the bow of his burning ship, while the other men abandoned her. Moved by this mans courage and sense of honour, I ordered the men to raise our ships flag half mast, and salute the ship as we passed. Foe he may have been, but he had died with great honour.

Orders from BDu turned us for home, but I think this quiet patrol bolstered the men once more. More than before, I think they are ready for this war. Now comes a time of new learning for us. I have directed Fritz and the other officers that we must begin making our attacks from further away, both to minimize the chance of being spotted, and to expedite our kill time. At present, our close range shots always land us in hot water. I intend to begin this practice in our next patrol, firing from greater distances, and perfecting the salvo firing techniques, prior to our next convoy engagement, which, I have no doubt, will come soon. I have instructed my Weapons Officer to investigate taking on board a larger number of electric torpedoes in our next refit.
Back in port, I recommended one of our chief seaman for promotion, filling the gap left in the NCOs ranks when Reckhoff had been promoted. I found our fame had spread and we had a veritable queue of young seaman eager to come onboard what they say is the most famous U-Boat in 7th Flotilla.

Orders had been received to rig the base for removal to the western coast of France. Within the month we would transfer 7th Flotilla to St. Nazaire. I was shocked by the news. That afternoon I entered the base hospital and located Suzanne. She was standing over the bed of a young child, playing a rhyming game. She saw me and squealed with delight, throwing her arms around me. I smiled back, but my heart was heavy, with orders now to leave the woman I had come to love. The young boy stared at my uniform, and Suzanne pulled me closer. He had recently had his appendix removed. His name was Karl. He wanted to drive U-Boats one day. He smiled shyly at me and asked me if I was a torpedo man. With a chuckle I told him my rank and berth. His eyes shot open in wonder and he spent 30 minutes interrogating me about my boat, probably more thoroughly than any POW camp could manage! Finally Suzanne excused us, and we walked out of the hospital arm in arm.
”Karl will be over the moon for weeks,” She smiled, “You’re his biggest hero. He’s always talking about the famous Kaleun Linden and his magic boat! He wants to serve aboard your boat when he turns eighteen!” She smiled. “Thank you for making his day.”
“Hopefully by the time he’s eighteen, this damned war is over.” I said.
With a heavy heart I told her of the orders to change operational bases. She took the news calmly and smiled up at me.
“Did you open your letter when you promised?” She asked, a tiny smile on her rosebud lips.
Surprised by the calm manner she was accepting our parting, I stammered an affirmative reply.
“Well then you great lug head, you’ll know I love you.” She continued, in a voice as sweet as honey.
“Yes…”My slightly confused reply. Then, registering what was expected of me, I added, “and I love you too, Nurse Wikus.”
Her smile illuminated her face, “Head Nurse Wikus.”
“Pardon?” Confusion.
“Head Nurse Suzanne Wikus, newly appointed to the St. Nazaire medical hospital.”
Words failed me then.
“You didn’t think I’d let you hare off to another port, with other women now did you? You great lummox.” She laughed gaily. I stood slightly stunned, until finally I regained my powers of speech. It turns out that Suzanne had also heard of the change of operational base, long before I did of course. She had requested to be transferred there, and her Chief of Staff had approved her promotion. I was overwhelmed. Celebrations were in order, and in short order we were in the Officers Nightclub, I found most of the other ships officers there, and a large scale party ensued. Ending only the next morning, with a large…very large…headache!