Not sure if this was the hardest fight I've had, but it was certainly the most dramatic one I've survived.
Mid 1943, northwest of Ireland. I've already encountered a Bogue task force (sank the carrier) and several aircraft, and my IXD2 is heavily damaged -- I can't go below 50m without taking damage. I'm just about to head back to Bergen when I get a contact report of a large convoy only a hundred km away. I still have almost a full load of torpedoes so I figure it's my duty to press the attack.
Luck is with me and the convoy doesn't change course. I get into a perfect position to attack the outer edge, but the center is too tempting . . . a Ceramic liner and 2 whaling ships in the center column. There are a mix of British and American escorts and luck is with me again, the lead and nearest side escorts are American Buckleys. I sneak past and get right in the center of the convoy. I sink the Ceramic right away and get 2 hits on one whale factory, one hit on the other. Both eventually sink, but I've got fresh problems. The escorts are coming in one at a time, and coming in dumb. I get 2 Buckleys and a Captain Class I as I disengage. Then a second Captain comes to investigate.
This one is British and no rookie. He dodges my torp (the only one I've got loaded), and DCs the crap out of me as I dive away. I run at flank for a minute, then drop decoys, switch to silent running and change course. This doesn't do me much good since my max depth is only 50m. I barely dodge another DC attack; the outcome of this seems inevitable. So I secure from silent running in order to reload torps, hit flank speed, and head for periscope depth. 1 minute left to reload. Somewhere in the middle of all this, that torp that missed hits a small merchant and sinks it :rotfl:
Now a desperate game of cat and mouse ensues. I'm on the helm and engine telegraph constantly trying to keep him from out-turning me (not easy in a IX) and watching the reload time count down. Hedgehogs go past close enough that I can practically read the armourer's fingerprints on the casings, I hit back emergency and full right rudder, and then the tube goes green as he passes in front of me. I fire at point blank range . .. and miss.
Back to flank speed, drop some decoys, lower the periscope, etc etc. More desperate manuevers, this time for 3 freaking minutes until the next tube (rear this time) is loaded. I fire a magnetic TIII that passes right under him without exploding.
By this time I'm practically levitating with rage, everything topside is shot to pieces and I get the feeling that periscope depth isn't too far from crush depth. I'm out of rear torps with several minutes to go until the next front tube reloads. I have no idea how I evaded him for so long, but finally I nailed him with my last internal torp. The Captain stood on its nose and went down. And then another escort came in . . . but this one was a Buckley, and after being pinged for a few seconds he locked on the decoy as I crept away.
Words can't describe what I was feeling . . . not words I'm allowed to say on this forum anyway :p