(Story) The grey Wolf

Mr_Kaizer · 09-16-10, 05:37 PM

As I sat in the cabin, at the table, with the rather stern looking British intelligence officer opposite of me, I thought of how ironic the world can be. For years I had terrorized British sailors, now I was sitting there in the uniform of some British sailor. I had been running from British destroyers for years, now I was in one. I must say it's much less scary to be in one, than it is to be under it.
“Name of the uboat you commanded?” The question jerked me back to reality. The intelligence officer looked at me with disdain in his eyes. The look gave me the feeling that he'd rather just kill me right there and then, rather than to bothering to question me. He was young, couldn't have been more than 25. The youngest are always the fiercest. I rubbed my face and gave him a tired look. “I can't give you that information.” I had given the same answer at least a dozen times. He was getting agitated, frustrated that he wasn't scaring me. Just as he looked like he was about to jump over the table and strangle me, the door to the cabin opened. I didn't know Royal Navy ranks to well, but judging by the face, demeanor and the reaction of the junior officer, it was the captain of the destroyer. “You're relieved lieutenant, go get yourself something to eat.” he said with a fatherly smile. He was older than me, by 10 years at least. His beard and hair was starting to turn gray. In fact, if he'd been smoking a pipe, he'd fit the mental image just about everyone has of what a ships captain is supposed to look like. The young intel lieutenant looked like he was about to protest, but swallowed the words, and left. The man I assumed to be the captain sat down opposite of me, where the young man had been sitting. He pulled a pack of sigarettes out of hi uniform, and offered them to me. “Care for a smoke old boy?” he asked, still with that warm, fatherly smile on his face. I accepted the sigarete, and the lighter he offered. I took a long drag, and exhaled with a sigh, sitting back in my chair. ”Thank you, I needed that.” I said. “After a session with my young friend you would!” the captain replied, almost laughing. “So, Mr. Wolf of the U-53, what brought a man like you to a profession like this?” he continued. I almost answered right away, before thinking that doing so would confirm that I was indeed the commander, or, former commander, of the U-53. “I can't confirm or deny which boat I served on.” I replied monotonously. “Of course, of course. But the painting of a wolf on the conning tower rather gave you away. I've heard that mentioned in several reports from merchant sailors. Some of them were pretty interesting. So again I ask, what makes a man like you take up a profession like this?” I sighed and though “what the hell, what's the harm. The war is practically over anyway.” I smiled for the first time in days, took another drag from the cigarette, and started to tell this British destroyer captain my story.

09-16-10, 05:37 PM	#1
Mr_Kaizer Watch Join Date: Mar 2009 Posts: 24 Downloads: 2 Uploads: 0	(Story) The grey Wolf As I sat in the cabin, at the table, with the rather stern looking British intelligence officer opposite of me, I thought of how ironic the world can be. For years I had terrorized British sailors, now I was sitting there in the uniform of some British sailor. I had been running from British destroyers for years, now I was in one. I must say it's much less scary to be in one, than it is to be under it. “Name of the uboat you commanded?” The question jerked me back to reality. The intelligence officer looked at me with disdain in his eyes. The look gave me the feeling that he'd rather just kill me right there and then, rather than to bothering to question me. He was young, couldn't have been more than 25. The youngest are always the fiercest. I rubbed my face and gave him a tired look. “I can't give you that information.” I had given the same answer at least a dozen times. He was getting agitated, frustrated that he wasn't scaring me. Just as he looked like he was about to jump over the table and strangle me, the door to the cabin opened. I didn't know Royal Navy ranks to well, but judging by the face, demeanor and the reaction of the junior officer, it was the captain of the destroyer. “You're relieved lieutenant, go get yourself something to eat.” he said with a fatherly smile. He was older than me, by 10 years at least. His beard and hair was starting to turn gray. In fact, if he'd been smoking a pipe, he'd fit the mental image just about everyone has of what a ships captain is supposed to look like. The young intel lieutenant looked like he was about to protest, but swallowed the words, and left. The man I assumed to be the captain sat down opposite of me, where the young man had been sitting. He pulled a pack of sigarettes out of hi uniform, and offered them to me. “Care for a smoke old boy?” he asked, still with that warm, fatherly smile on his face. I accepted the sigarete, and the lighter he offered. I took a long drag, and exhaled with a sigh, sitting back in my chair. ”Thank you, I needed that.” I said. “After a session with my young friend you would!” the captain replied, almost laughing. “So, Mr. Wolf of the U-53, what brought a man like you to a profession like this?” he continued. I almost answered right away, before thinking that doing so would confirm that I was indeed the commander, or, former commander, of the U-53. “I can't confirm or deny which boat I served on.” I replied monotonously. “Of course, of course. But the painting of a wolf on the conning tower rather gave you away. I've heard that mentioned in several reports from merchant sailors. Some of them were pretty interesting. So again I ask, what makes a man like you take up a profession like this?” I sighed and though “what the hell, what's the harm. The war is practically over anyway.” I smiled for the first time in days, took another drag from the cigarette, and started to tell this British destroyer captain my story.