(Story) U-46 puts to sea again

[Laughing Swordfish]

This one was a Spitfire.

It roared directly overhead

Our driver, Schmidt, was already spinning the car off the road into the trees as far as it would go, while Hans and I were still shouting, and instinctively throwing our bodies on top of the girls.

"Out! Out!" It was Hans who took command, and we leaped out, Heidi didn't need any help, but Schmidt gave Hans a lending hand getting Josie and her leg brace to safety, and we all took refuge deeper in the wood.

We waited there for several minutes while we got our breath back, and then started laughing. Hans was swapping war stories with Schmidt, while I had the two girls to myself again. They had twigs in their hair and grass stains on their new skirts and didn't care a bit.

"Well that's another one for the diary on this trip!"

"Do you keep a diary Heidi?"

"No, of course not, Rollie!" Heidi blushed.

"She does!" Josie laughed. "And you're in it Herr Kaleun!"

"Have you been reading it Josie!"

"How could I, if it doesn't exist. And you tell me everything anyway!"

"Such as...?" I couldn't resist asking.

"Sir, we need to think about our immediate situation," Hans interrupted. "Schmidt knows this road.."

Schmidt coughed. "Yes sir, spitfires often come along here, I think they use the roads to navigate; sometimes they are armed, but maybe looking for bigger targets, sometimes they do shoot you up; sometimes they are just on a reconnaissance mission, taking photographs of our installations or troop movements. I think we might be ok with this one. Sometimes they circle round and empty their guns" He shuddered. "This one kept on going. I think it was a routine recce mission, if you want to risk it back on the road, Sir?"

I looked at the girls. They just shrugged and looked at us with utter trust. I've seen that look before many times in the control room of the U-46, and the only thing to do is act on it.

"Ok let's go, otherwise we'll be late for dinner"

Soon after we set off, the spifire was back. Returning the same way it had come. Schmidt was relaxed. If he had any tracer left or any intention of shooting us up, he would have by now. (God I still hate planes though).

"Smile for the camera, everybody!"

And we waved at the pilot as he briefly circled, and then he waggled his wings and sped away back home.

And soon we were home too. At least the place we call our home, St Nazaire, and in my case, a slender metal tube with a green swordfish painted on each side..

LS

[frau kaleun]

Originally Posted by OSU

Think P-47. A modern version would be something like an A-10.

Thanks, but it doesn't help. I don't know from planes.

[Sailor Steve]

Originally Posted by Laughing Swordfish

And we waved at the pilot as he briefly circled, and then he waggled his wings and sped away back home.

An enemy with a sense of whimsy. Always nice to meet.

Originally Posted by frau kaleun

Thanks, but it doesn't help. I don't know from planes.

Fighters are small, one engine, one man, and guns. Bombers are large, two or more engines, two or more men, and bombs (and guns).

Fighter-bombers are fighters that can carry bombs, and usually fly low and aim their bombs at specific targets, like cars on roads. When a Hurricane drops a bomb on your u-boat, that's a 'Jabo'.

Fortunately for our heroes, photo-recon (or "recce" if your British) aircraft are usually unarmed.

[frau kaleun]

Originally Posted by Sailor Steve

An enemy with a sense of whimsy. Always nice to meet.


Fighters are small, one engine, one man, and guns. Bombers are large, two or more engines, two or more men, and bombs (and guns).

Fighter-bombers are fighters that can carry bombs, and usually fly low and aim their bombs at specific targets, like cars on roads. When a Hurricane drops a bomb on your u-boat, that's a 'Jabo'.

Fortunately for our heroes, photo-recon (or "recce" if your British) aircraft are usually unarmed.

Lol, I do know the basic differences between a fighter and a bomber and a fighter-bomber, more or less. It's when specific names get rattled off that I go because things like "A-10" and "P-47" are meaningless to me.

I'm familiar with the names of certain "famous" planes like a B-17 or a Spitfire, but probably couldn't pick one out of a lineup. Unless the lineup consisted only of B-17s and Spitfires, I think I could manage that.

[maillemaker]

P-47 Razorback was a WWII fighter plane:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Republic_P-47_Thunderbolt

The A10 Warthog is a modern era jet fighter that specializes in ground assault:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fairchi...Thunderbolt_II

Steve

[Jimbuna]

The problem is, regardless of what type it is, you have to guess/gamble the intent

[bookworm_020]

If you keep this up LS, will be the ones dieing of a heart attack!

[Laughing Swordfish]

I think Jagd stems from Jager, meaning hunter in German They used it on their tanks too, and also thir night fighter planes, they would put upward firing cannons into the noses of ME110s or Dorniers, be quided on by radar, and ahoot them down that from underneath. They called it 'NachtMusik'. Their tank destroyers like the Jagdpanther a highly effective tank destroyer with the same 88mm gun we have, but designed to bust tanks instead of hole ships.(the Germans were at least cool cats when it came to naming their tanks, they had Tigers and Panthers and Lynx's, we got general's names like Sherman, Lee, and Grant, also Cromwell, and Crusader, two names that sums up some, but not all, of the worst in British History).
Enough historical facts, and back to the story!

LS

[Draka]

Small nit to pick - the 88mm gun we have is a naval cannon, not too major a gun - the famous 88mm Flak gun is another whole catagory, from the rifling characteristics, to the shell, to the use as an anti-tank weapon from the Spanish Civil War onward. At the ranges we fire, say 500m, that would be point-blank range - they were designed to shoot down aircraft many "angels" high in the sky ........


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/8.8_cm_FlaK_18/36/37/41

[Sailor Steve]

Originally Posted by maillemaker

P-47 Razorback

The P-47's official nickname was 'Thunderbolt'. The pilots liked to call it the 'Jug', because if you stood it on its nose it resembled an old-fashioned metal milk jug.

'Razorback' was the descriptive for the early canopy, as shown in picture #4 of your link. The later canopy, shown in picture #1, was called 'bubbletop'.

[Laughing Swordfish]

I stand corrected.

Same calibre, different gun entirely. The 88 AA gun pushed into anti tank service by the army, sometimes still on it's wheels, particularly in North Africa, was a much feared weapon. So much so, that allied tank crews on hearing or seeing a near miss, would sometimes bail out anyway, because the next one was bound to hit.

There is a story of a single 88 left as rearguard holding up the advance on an Italian hillside village all day. Eight Shermans were knocked out, one after the other. The Allies were at a loss, and were about to call in the planes when the German gunners came down the track with their hands up.

When asked why they'd given up, one of them simply said, 'No more shells'.

RdB

[Laughing Swordfish]

I come back down to the pen.

And there she is, as good as new, the U-46, men busy all over her, the clanging and banging, shouting and hoisting and loading of torpedoes. The last of the provisions being lowered down. Joachim standing over the whole operation like an avenging angel. They are his eels, and he insists on high standards. We had more than one patrol where some were duds. Not Joachim's fault, noone pays more attention to torpedo maintenance than my Weapons Officer. But he takes it personally when one fails. (Actually all of us may take it personally, we could get killed if our torpedoes don't work...but that's another matter).

It's Willi that sees me first.

"Kapitan on deck!"

Everyone snapped to attention, and formed up on the fore deck.

They know I don't go in for that formality.

How's she looking, Willi?"

"Never better Kap. We'll be out in no time."

"Where are Christian and the rest of the officers?"

"Below Sir, we weren't expecting you back quite so soon..."

Willi can't keep a straight face, and there's obviously something up.

The men lined up on the deck are laughing too.

There is a commotion behind me as Christian and Bruno appear, carrying Heidi shoulder high, protesting down the gangplank. Oscar is walking solemnly but smiling behind them. Cox is carrying Josie on his shoulders behind the entourage, so she can get a view

I sighed. There are no secrets in the 7th Flotilla, or in the U-46.

Heidi fell into my arms just under the conning tower to great applause.

Thankfully Oscar kept it short.

"Friends and comrades, this is not a formal wedding, but a betrothal between two dear friends of mine. I ask you to witness it here on our boat, and celebrate with some cake!"

At which point Kuki appeared on cue from behind the bridge bearing a huge iced apple and walnut cake. Wine and beer came out too, but all I wanted to do was hug Heidi, even in front of the men.

"Thank you Oscar, Christian, all of you, you bastards, how did you know?" And then I saw Josie hopping on her good leg near the gun with a glass in her hand, and that was that mystery solved.

LS

[Jimbuna]

Nice one LS

[Laughing Swordfish]

As word spread, amongst the crews of the boats preparing to leave, the party grew, until there were so many people and beer kegs, I almost feared the U-46 would sink at last under the weight of it's own people.

Otto and Joachim still had some fine tuning of their own downstairs, and refused anyone but the Swordfish crew to muck about inside the boat itself while he and his staff were working, but a crate or two were handed down to slake their thirst.

The guards at the entrance to the pens knew when to turn a blind eye to some last day high jinks, and were rewarded with a few bottles each passed surreptitiously to them up at street level.

Not so, the bumptious flotilla officer who stupidly tried to pull rank and stop it on his own. He ended up with a huge splash in the foul, oily water of No.3 Pen, and was rescued spluttering and gibbering with a boat hook by Cox. Cox was to receive a medal for that later apparently, (even though it was him that stuck out a foot and tripped him into the drink in the first place).

But finally the party was over, the last of the empties thrown carelessly into the deep dock. The nurses gone, apart from one momento.

"Dieter is that you?", pointing at the main hawser line.

"What do you mean, Sir?"

"A pair of hospital issue white panties may be a victory pennant of some sorts, but it is not what we are going out with, now get it down!"

.....And now with everything loaded and triple checked it is time to go.

Heidi and I have already had our last lingering kiss goodbye, and I have made every promise I can to stem her tears.

Josie has been up with Hans at the nearby Army hospital, where he is basically putting his feet up, but I know they will both be at their usual place.

Having got through with the leaving formalities and the bands and officers, I give the orders to Otto on the bridge to turn off the electric motors, and with a grin he relays them to Reuben. The engines turn for a moment and purr and then roar into life. Otto turns to me and yells above them himself in delight at their perfect sound. The wake behind us grows at a greater speed than I should really allow on leaving the pens, but let's let Otto show off.

Even here we have the flak gun manned and watching the skies; but I am only looking for one thing, and there they are. A blonde and a flame haired brunette right at the end of the Quay, waving like mad, always determined to be the last to see us off, and if they can, the first to see us back.

I wave madly back with my white cap, joined by all of a cheering First Watch, and keep waving or watching until they are distant specks along the bends of the Loire estuary.

"I'm going below Christian, let me know when we're in open sea"

The U-46 has put to sea again.

LS

[bookworm_020]

Back to sea at last! Didn't know if you would get permission to leave!