[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 19 June ’41 – 02 July ‘41

Confound these worthless technicians!

Receiving orders to patrol just off the North West coast of Africa, the crew and I looked forward to some time near the tropics. What we got however, was high blood pressure!

During our transit to our patrol zone, I began marking off the locations of the various signals our Radioman established. Since most of the time the location of these ships was too far from our projected track, I contented myself with marking them on the map for future reference. What I established after approximately 4 days of steaming was a possible entry and exit lane for the Straits of Gibraltar! This would stand us in good stead.

During the transit I received traffic that the Fatherland had declared war on our allies the Russians. This news served to sink my spirits. Any hope of surrender from the British forces was sunk, now that the Russian bear Stalin was on their war council. I felt like cursing, but couldn’t do so before the crew.

Establishing ourselves on station patrolled the designated zone for 24 hours before turning back home. Having not spotted so much as a flying fish, I elected to establish a patrol near this supposed cargo highway. I informed Command of my intentions and received a reply saying, “Be more aggressive!”
I found this strange, as if I had anything to be aggressive towards I would.

Nearly four hours after establishing our patrol plot, we crossed paths with a Small Merchant ship. Until now, the crew and I had seen a total of 3 hours of sunlight the entire trip. The weather on the seas hadn’t changed a whit. Poor visibility, high winds and precipitation meant that we would not get the opportunity to exercise the deck gun.

Submerging the ship and laying in an intercept track, we crept forward silently and prepared to attack. Having learned from my previous patrols, I ordered two torpedoes readied, and fired them separately, setting them to explode magnetically.
The first torpedo established its 10 m deep run, made 200 meters from the ship and promptly detonated. The fact that the torpedo had a further 400 meters to the target was the problem.

Fortunately the close timing of the second torpedo meant that it could detonate beneath the target just as she began her turn. Although the detonation did not sink her, she was severely disabled in the high sea state.
We prepared another attack, and fired one torpedo off again. This one missed ahead of the target, and the second we fired (now the fourth for the encounter), finally sank the target.
All in all, not suitable results for such a well drilled crew.
But worse was to come. Re-establishing our patrol, we received word of a C3 cargo ship, and sure enough, we spotted her an hour later. Still in the terrible storm, I called for periscope depth and planned the attack. A freak occurrence in the wave periodicity must have exposed our sail however, for no sooner did I open my torpedo tubes than I heard the sound of the C3’s gun firing on us. We had been spotted. It was time to act fast. The solution set, and the torpedoes primed, I loosed two shots. BOTH detonated as soon as they made the 200 meters arming distance, a full 500 meters from the target!
Concerned that the storm was playing havoc with my magnetic sensors, I re-established my intercept and fired off a further two shots with impact triggers, at a depth of 8m.
The first torpedo detonated 400 meters out, but the second hit the target. Sadly I was running out of torpedoes and the C3 showed no signs of stopping. Over the course of two hours I expended every torpedo on the boat. Not one torpedo successfully armed, or detonated on time. I was livid. Turning my stern to the target, I made for Base, certain that I could hear the laughter of the C3’s crew as we left the scene ingloriously!

On return to the Base, I made my report to the Commandant, who was furious at the news of the premature detonations. He and I marched off to speak to the chief technician in charge of the torpedoes. An inspection found fully 30 of the 70 torpedoes were primed incorrectly! Immediately, the word saboteur sprang to mind. I believe the Commandant had the same suspicions, as I see the weapons locker now has armed personnel on guard, 24 hours a day.
Subsequent to this, I have sent all my torpedo men on a course, held by the chief technician, to learn how to inspect, repair and arm the triggers. The chief technician was clear however, that major storms WILL have a negative effect on the magnetic torpedo trigger.

Because of these developments, I found myself working late at the base almost every night. After a week ashore, I heard a knock on my door one evening. Gruffly, I gave permission to enter, and glanced at my wall clock. 22:00. Another wasted evening. When my eyes returned to the figure at the door I broke into a smile. Standing there in a light coat and clutching a basket was Suzanne.
“Remember me?” she asked timidly.
“Sometimes I think you are simply a dream.” I replied standing and coming around the desk. She opened the basket and revealed a picnic dinner.
“Since you seem intent on avoiding my cooking, I thought I’d bring it to you,” she chuckled. Not seated for five minutes however, my door opened and in strode my Commandant. Jumping to my feet and snapping out a salute, I began preparing for a tongue lashing for letting civilian personnel into my office. The Commandant however, didn’t even blink to see Suzanne there. Quite the contrary, he strode over to the basket and plucked out a chicken leg, which he began to nibble as he casually joined our dinner! It would seem my darling fiancé has endeared herself to the whole base!
We spent a pleasant hour discussing everything but the war, but finally the discussion turned there.
“Gerhard,” began the Commandant, “have you thought about moving to 2nd Flotilla? You could snap up command of one of the IX boats with no trouble.”
I eyed my Commandant, weighing my reply. I could see that Suzanne had held her breath.
“I have, Sir. But I don’t feel now would be a prudent time.”
“Why not?”
“It would mean a relocation of base, Sir, and I’m not prepared to do that prior to the wedding.”
The Commandant’s smiled beamed over my table, and I heard Suzanne exhale a little sigh of relief.
“Very good Gerhard,” he nodded, “but even as much as I will hate to lose you, it is far more prudent that you gain command of a more effective boat.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I replied. Then stood as he rose and made his farewells.
Suzanne eyed me steadily for a few seconds, and then asked, “Are you holding back in your career because of me?”
I came around the desk to hold her before replying, “No my love. I’m simply waiting for the right moment. I’m a submariner remember? I’m nothing if not patient!”
Her return hug was hard and long, her words muffled against my chest.
“Just be careful out there, sailor.”