[Bosje]

Some five hundred meters, that is the distance. Quite far, if you have to run it on foot. Quite close, if the frigate has to run it before bringing death to us. She is sitting there, bobbing along, screws barely turning. Listening, waiting for us to make another mistake. She is slightly behind us, off our port, while the convoy steams across our bow on their northward leg, all ships now turning away from us, not worth a shot. I want to get them all, get rid of that escort and strike at the convoy but the angles are against us. To go for the escort, we must turn to starboard. But that means turning away from the convoy. Turn to port and our nose will stay on the convoy but we'll present our port flank to the frigate. 'LI, 50 rpm, rudder port 20.' I choose the convoy, desperately hoping that they are about to turn on a westward leg, hoping that they will soon show me their flanks. Seconds seem to last hours. Only fifteen minutes passed after Ringelmann stumbled but it seems like a hundred years, waiting. My only source of information is Klaus, his whispered reports are passed on to me in the conning tower. But I need to know more, I want to see what they are up to. I risk a peek, attack periscope up for two seconds, down again. I only got a glance but it was enough, all merchants are turning to port, back towards us. I made the right choice by going for the convoy. But the periscope gave the game away.


-Ping-


'Ahead flank! Rudder port 10! Set target speeds and angles for zero, fire on my bearings!' U-735 jumps forward while we hear gunfire. Gunfire? I do not stop to worry about that, they are not shooting at me, they are using starshells to light up the party. No use in trying to hide. 'Up periscope'. I take a quick look around. The frigate is off our port but she was facing the other way so she needs to turn around first, the other escorts are too far off to present any immediate danger. I look ahead and there is the wall of ships which I was hoping to find, the entire convoy has turned to the west as one in a disciplined and perfectly executed maneuver to prevent collisions and confusion. A fine tactic, provided that the submerged killer is diving deep to escape the escorts. But we are still here, at periscope depth, four torpedoes pointing right at them in the opened bowtubes. I do not have time to work out the speeds and ranges and angles, I'll simply have to aim ahead of them. I decide on a nine degree lead. If I miss the intended target there is every chance of another hull getting in the way of the warhead; the convoy stretches out before me, all the way to the horizon. 'Tube one, bearing 342, fire! Tube two, 356, Fire!' That was loosely aimed at two Liberties close to the center column. The flat top is right behind them, looks like a Bogue class. 'FaT slow speed, legs to port 800 meters...' 'Set!' 'Bearing 003, fire!'


The asdic pokes at us incessantly. God I hate that sound. I quickly look around at the source, the nearby escort completed her turn and is now coming straight towards me, bows pointing at me but no sign of a great foamy moustache to indicate the start of an attack run. 'Klaus! What is she doing?' 'Pinging the hell out of us, Herr Kaleun, but maintaining distance!' What? Why is she not charging into us? I had the order to dive deep already in my throat but I swallow it. The periscope has been up for far too long, doesn't matter, they know exactly where we are anyway. The pings are hitting the boat like bullets, sharp and urgent. Perhaps she maintains contact to guide in another escort? I make a full turn with the periscope but no escorts are about to charge in. So be it, I turn back to the convoy. Ore carrier in the next column. 'Tube 4, bearing 358, fire!' Four torpedoes on their way, I expect the first detonations within seconds. 'Klaus?' No need for whispers, we are running at flank speed, still slightly turning to port, making a hell of a lot of noise. Klaus calls back: 'Escort still maintaining distance, turning with us to port, she is keeping her bow pointed at us.' My eye tells me the same thing and I don't understand. Why is she not charging into us? Why is she allowing me the opportunity to strike at the convoy? Is this a trick? Some kind of new tactic? Am I running straight into a trap of some kind? Suddenly, a single word flashes through my brain and a shiver runs down my spine as I scream: 'Scheisse! Hard to starboard, dive! DIVE!'


Hedgehog, the word still lingers in my head while Hans and I scramble down from the conning tower. The needle on the depth gauge is quickly turning clockwise. As fast as the secondhand on the chronometer which Hals holds in his hand. 'Torpedoes one and two are overdue for impact, Herr Ka...' Whoom. Whoom. Two explosions rumble in the distance, some of the men can not contain an excited shout. Whoom. Torpedo number three, the carrier. The men are celebrating the hell which we unleashed on the convoy but I am waiting for another kind of explosion, much closer, an explosion which will destroy us. Sweat is dripping down from my face. 'Rudder starboard 20, keep going down as fast as you can, Anton!' We pass 100 meters, the boat is diving so steep that it is difficult to stand upright. Everyone is holding onto pipes, ladders, bulkheads, poles. 'Launch decoy.' 'Passing test depth.' 'Warship accelerating bearing 195. Attack run!' 'Hard to port!' 'Wasserbomben!' 'Passing 190 meters.' 'Level off, LI!' 'Passing 200 meters.' 'Level, come on, level off!' The commands and the feedback are shouted through the control room. The boat is sounding off a deep booming moan, we are going down too steep, too fast, too deep. But never mind that, we've been deeper than this before. The enemy is a bigger threat at the moment. The hedgehog did not get us, if it even launched at all, but now I am more concerned about the depthcharges which are on their way. 'Rudder zero' 'Boat is leveling.' 'Hold on, men!' The depthcharges start exploding, far away at first but quickly getting closer. And closer. The boat starts to shake as the sea is boiling up above us. The boat is thrown about a bit but I've seen a lot worse, no water is rushing into the boat, the lights are still on, she is still in one piece. 'Passing 220 meters.' 'Easy now, LI.' The needle stalls at 230 meters and the boat is straight and level. Good girl. 'Right, maintain 230 meters, rudder 10 port, 50 rpm.' Albert reports in: 'No damage, all compartments secure.' 'Thank you, Oberbootsmann.' Far away, we hear the fourth and last rumble of an exploding torpedo. Four torpedoes, four hits. And we survived, but this was only the start. Obersteuermann Petersen is marking the twenty-five or so charges, that first run alone takes up a quarter of the chalkboard. I put my hand on his shoulder. 'Never mind, Hals.'



The Duke