[Perseus]

The HMS Rodney and the DD approached us at 25 knots. "With that kind of speed, I doubt if they'd hear us if we had the Kriegsmarine Band play the 'Horst Wessel Lied' right here in the control room," Gunther chuckled.

But while Max was discussing eel issues with the men in the torpedo room and contacted Helmut for latest bearing and speed estimates, I wondered
why on earth that battleship was being escorted by only one destroyer? It didn't make sense at all.

Just three weeks ago U-54 out of Wilhelmshaven had tried to engage the HMS Royal Oak carrier but had to back off after the five DDs noticed her and gave chase. The U-53 limped back into port with one propellor, half her batteries, half the conning tower and enough patched holes in the hull to give her the nickname 'Emmenthaler'. She hadn't got one shot off.

But never mind. The Rodney is heading for us, and we're going to create hell.

14 minutes after I first identified the Rodney using the periscope, Max and I had agreed on a thinly spread attack. We'd moved to the north-east slowly and then turned. A dangerous tactic, what with us having to move at 12 knots for time purposes, but Gunther had been right after all: with the speed that DD was going, there was no way they could have heard us.

Tension rose and for the first time I really sensed it. But it was a different tension. Word had spread throughout the boat that we were going to attack a battleship escorted by only one DD. The news had brought a strange kind of positive tension, not the sweaty kind of fear that usually accompanied a heavily protected convoy or a lone merchant. We would be making history, and we all knew it. Right here, right now we were at exactly the right time to make exactly the right attack because we were at exactly the right position. Nothing could stop us.

And our luck only increased. I had raised the periscope and was about to shout the last update on the Rodney's position to Max when our fortunes took an even better turn. For a reason I will never know, the captain of the battleship decided to change course due south, thus giving me a lovely view of the port bow. The DD had apparently increased speed, because the distance between her and the Rodney was increasing - the DD was now on the Rodney's 340, while we were approximately at the Rodney's 330.

"Open tubes 1 to 6," I said. I had taken the gamble to launch all six torpedos with a wide spread, to ensure at least some hits in case something went wrong, like the Rodney changing aspect course. I heard the mechanical sounds of the outer doors opening.

Range: 1875. Perfect. I double-checked the firing solution with Max. Tension was at its peak; pearls of sweat glided down his throat from his blonde beard. Max confirmed the solution.

I noted the time. This would be historic.
"Fire!" I said loudly, possibly a bit too loud, as the palm of my hand crashed down on the red firing button.

Within moments my ears popped as the first eel was pushed out of Tube 1 by compressed air. Then Tube 2 went, then 3, 4, 5, 6... The sound was horrible. I lowered the periscope and saw the white bubble trail of the 6th eel fade away into the deep blue distance as the periscope dropped below the surface. They were like children you had to let go of as a parent, I thought; I prepared them, set out their course in life, and now they had to finish the job for me.

"Go go go my sweet kiddies" I mused before I slid down the ladder into the control room.

"Course due north, speed ahead two-third, make my depth 40 meters!" I yelled as my feet hit the metal floor. I wanted to stay the hell away from that DD.

After the tension of the past 30 minutes, in which only me, weapons officer Max and sonar man Helmut had done most of the talking, the control room now burst into activity. Hans barked orders to men holding the controls - "20 on the bow planes, 15 on the back - new course 000 degrees!" - while Max held his eyes fixed on his stopwatch. While all around us sailors had started moving again, going from this station to another, I stood next to Max and fixed my eyes on his Jungmans too.

Not long after the first echo of an explosion thundered through the blue waters, the first vibrations hitting the bow like wall of sound, rattling some loose pieces of metal. Then a second explosion followed, and a third - three eels had hit!

The first explosion had simply caused a stir, the second resulted in much grimacing, but the third spurred some of the crew into a frenzy of joy. "We've got her!" someone shouted, and crewmembers banged against metal and howled and cheered. "Shhhht, Schleiche! Ssst!" I ordered, and they complied immediately.

"A fourth hit would be ni-" Max started mumbling, but he couldn't finish his sentence. A fourth explosion ripped through the sea and this time even I felt some of the tension flow away from me. "Four hits!" said Hans said smiling. "Four hits! If she isn't going down now, I don't know what will."

But four hits, four explosions it remained. Meanwhile we had hit 40 meters in depth and were moving due north, but all I really wanted to do was go back to periscope depth and see what we had actually hit.