[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 8 September ’41 – 20 September ‘41

Bon Voyage U-49!

Setting out from port for this patrol was a singularly emotional experience for all the crew. It is very likely the last time I shall command this boat into unfriendly waters. My patrol expected to last 10 days or so will return me to shore and find me on leave. Thereafter, I transfer to 2nd Flotilla, and gain command of a new boat.

As such, the crew and I are determined to make a show of returning with high tonnage!
There was absolutely no doubt that we would achieve precisely this when, 2 days into our patrol we encountered our first target, a juicy, fat C3 cargo ship.
Submerged, with battle stations manned, the U-49 set about plying her deadly trade. Without error we plotted a solution and loosed a torpedo. Against common sense and tradition, we watched her drive all the way home. The subsequent explosion in the after section of the ship lifted the vessel out of the water at the stern! As the stern returned into the water the entire aft section of the ship broke apart and the vessel began her dive of death.

Such a spectacular hit set the tone for our future engagements. Two Small merchants, one costal merchant and another C3 cargo ship were sent to the bottom for a particularly impressive tonnage value! The crew and I refused to leave our area of operations until we were out of torpedoes! And that we did! Sadly, the inclement weather precluded the use of the deck gun, or we would have surely stayed out longer!

In fact, it was due to the terrible weather we found the majority of our targets! With the fog so heavy one could barely see the bow of our submarine; I ordered the lookouts below and ran to a depth of 13 meters. I slowed to Ahead Slow and began trolling for contacts on my hydrophones. Our time spent locating the freight highways into and out of the Straits of Gibraltar paid dividends here. We were able to detect the targets a lot further out than we would have spotted them, then close in we fired off torpedoes. The nature of the engagement meant that most of the time we were coasting along at 3 knots, less than 350 meters from our target! One such engagement left us with a solution, but no visible target! As we finished the plot the ship drifted out of sight into the haze. I ordered the shot fired and listened at the hydrophones until we heard the sound of an explosion on the bearing of the missing ship! A cheer of joy erupted throughout the boat as we proved once again to be the best crew upon the seas!

Thus encouraged by well timed solutions and shots, I began taking this approach to more ships. Often lowering the periscope before a plot was finished. The subsequent ‘over the shoulder’ shot as my Weapons Officer has taken to calling them, produced more hits than our previous, standard solution shots! I believe this is a combination of several factors, including the experience of the crew, the accuracy of the solution, and most importantly, our proximity to target. Such proximity is unthinkable in clear weather conditions, but whereas in the past the merchant ships felt safer in the storms, with us unable to shoot from far away, we have just now developed a technique that promises to remove that thin safety blanket of theirs!

Returning to base as heroes once more, the crew and I disembarked from more than a submarine. We stepped off our home for the last time. With Fritz and the other officers assembled alongside the pier, we all came to attention to salute a faithful friend who had protected us and suffered with us until the very end of our tenure.

The Commandant in charge of the base informed me during my report that as a wedding gift from a grateful Navy, (his words, not mine), my whole crew was being transferred to my new command, at such time as it became clear what that was. The cheers, backslapping and partying that accompanied that announcement when I informed the crew was enough to remain etched in the history of St. Nazaire for years to come!
Tears were in both Fritz and Reckhoff's eyes as they shook my hand and gave me a fierce hug. They had served too long to be separated from me now.

Sitting at my desk a few days later I asked Fritz why he had never asked to be re-assigned. His rank and experience were certainties to acquire him a boat of his own.
His reply touched me, “Herr Kaleun. I wouldn’t dream of leaving this berth. Where else can I serve the Fatherland better, than by serving with her most prized Kaleun?”
I began to sputter that was hardly the case, but he smiled at me and stood slowly. “When we met, I didn’t think we’d survive our first tour Gerhard. But I was wrong. And beyond your ability to command, is your ability to inspire the souls of your crew. I would follow you, Herr Kapitanleutnant to the gates of Hell itself. If only to watch you torpedo them open and drive the devil from his lair!”

With our families arriving, Suzanne and I had hardly a moment to spare to ourselves. Upon learning that my father was in St. Nazaire, the Commandant demanded to meet him. The two sat gossiping like old men on a porch for three hours before I was ordered to conduct a tour of the base for my father. My dad marveled at our country’s advancement since his time in the Kriegsmarine. Then in a rare honour, the Commandant accompanied us to the U-49, where I gave one final inspection.
My dad ran his hands over the periscope grips and lovingly handled the Hydrophone gear – his station during the First Great War. Then we inspected the massive diesel engines that had so tirelessly pushed us through the raw majesty of the ocean. Finally we came to the bow torpedo rooms. I showed my father the torpedoes we used and explained the magnetic trigger to him. Once back in the command room of the ship my father stopped and turned full circle. He went to stand at the point where I always assumed my command. Without error he stood on the exact spot where I had stood, silently praying that the destroyers would miss, or the torpedoes would run to completion.
“You stand here, Gerhard, yes?” he asked quietly. I nodded once. My father closed his eyes and stood still for a while.
“I can’t imagine what it’s like. But I am so very proud of you my son. So very proud.”
When he opened his eyes, tears glistened in them, though he made a show of turning to the weapon officer’s station and examining the bulkhead.
When we returned home he was quiet, but later that day my mother came to me and told me how I happy I had made him. How happy he was to see the might of Germany after the embarrassment that was Versailles. That made me think. My father had served in a losing war, and yet remembered only the pride of the Fatherland. I hoped that when I grew old enough to watch my children work, that I too could remember my time in the service with honour and distinction.
Suzanne came up to me and put her arms around my waist as I stood staring out of the windows at the base that I had served in for so long.
“What are you thinking about Gerhard?” she whispered.
“I’m thinking,” I replied after a moments thought, “that I’m a very fortunate man.”
Her answering hug confirmed to me that I was.