(Story) Happy Time

Bosje · 04-13-13, 04:53 AM

He detected the first grey hair in his stubby beard this morning. Only 30 years old and already turning grey. And bald. Well, maybe it would make him look wise and knowledgeable.

Oberleutnant zur See and Commander of U-46. It sounded impressive. At least to the girls of negotiable affection if to no-one else.

January 8th 1940, the North Sea is calm and U-46 makes her way slowly but steadily north by northwest. Around Great Britain, then all the way around Ireland and then to their patrol area in the Atlantic. Western Approaches. Convoy country. At least a week before they are there, and that's in ideal circumstances.

January 10th, Peter decodes the radio messages which keep the officers up to date. A taskforce is racing straight towards the English East Coast, looks like the target is Newcastle. he wonders what their intentions are, but it looks like an exciting raid. He smiles at the thought of a handful of modern surface vessels, speeding across the waves, all the daring and bravado of the old Prussian school of warfare. How unlike the cunning and unchivalrous nature of unrestricted submarine warfare.
Another U-boat is reporting in, close by, a comrade operating North of Scapa Flow.

Their latest instructions, issued through a highly coded radio message: U-boats in English waters are to attack unobtrusively and submerged to preserve the illusion of mine hits.

Yeah.
Bernd Bauer rubs the stubble on his chin. It's all about the tonnage and he is rapidly making a name for himself as a gross consumer of tonnage.

04-13-13, 04:53 AM	#1
Bosje Seasoned Skipper Join Date: Apr 2008 Posts: 732 Downloads: 89 Uploads: 0	(Story) Happy Time He detected the first grey hair in his stubby beard this morning. Only 30 years old and already turning grey. And bald. Well, maybe it would make him look wise and knowledgeable. Oberleutnant zur See and Commander of U-46. It sounded impressive. At least to the girls of negotiable affection if to no-one else. January 8th 1940, the North Sea is calm and U-46 makes her way slowly but steadily north by northwest. Around Great Britain, then all the way around Ireland and then to their patrol area in the Atlantic. Western Approaches. Convoy country. At least a week before they are there, and that's in ideal circumstances. January 10th, Peter decodes the radio messages which keep the officers up to date. A taskforce is racing straight towards the English East Coast, looks like the target is Newcastle. he wonders what their intentions are, but it looks like an exciting raid. He smiles at the thought of a handful of modern surface vessels, speeding across the waves, all the daring and bravado of the old Prussian school of warfare. How unlike the cunning and unchivalrous nature of unrestricted submarine warfare. Another U-boat is reporting in, close by, a comrade operating North of Scapa Flow. Their latest instructions, issued through a highly coded radio message: U-boats in English waters are to attack unobtrusively and submerged to preserve the illusion of mine hits. Yeah. Bernd Bauer rubs the stubble on his chin. It's all about the tonnage and he is rapidly making a name for himself as a gross consumer of tonnage. __________________ And when an 800-ton Uboat has you by the tits... you listen!