Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden (Long!)

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 17 July ’40 – 4 August ‘04

I write this entry with a heavy heart. This is the first patrol in which I lost a man to an enemy attack.

Ordered to patrol off the western coast of England, the crew and I slipped out of harbor. I stood on the bow and waved to Suzanne as I left the port, our final goodbye had been tender, as I’ll not see her again until we are re-united in our new base. She clutched the case containing my Knights Cross with Oak Leaves and Swords, and my German Cross in Gold to her breast as she waved farewell. The commander of the Flotilla had presented me with the decorations before I had boarded. It was expected that we would receive fresh orders while out at sea to dock in our new port.

Exiting the peninsula, we began our transition past the Scapa Flow harbor, and there encountered our first target. A Coastal Vessel, wallowing in heavy swells. With the experience we had gained, we soon had a solution prepared and a torpedo put the ship at the bottom of the roiling sea. Entering our patrol zone we intercepted another coastal merchant, and sunk her with a single torpedo. Due to the poor weather, we had decided on a standard attack range of 800m.
We happened along a small merchant ship, and our first torpedo missed, overshooting the target. We had remained surfaced, and I was surprised when I heard the report of incoming fire. I hastened to the tower and did a scan, and to my sickened surprise we spotted a V&W destroyer making for us. Her searchlights illuminated her, but fortunately, not us. I submerged the ship, raised the periscope and looked on in muted disbelief as the destroyer inexplicably made her way towards us, dead astern. Not wasting the moment, I readied a stern torpedo and loosed. 16 seconds later the hapless ship was struck, and immediately lost all headway. Turning my attention back to the merchant we tacked alongside her and released another torpedo. Our second failed to detonate. Frustrated, I fired off a third shot on dead reckoning, a foolhardy and petulant thing to do. Needless to say, we missed that shot too! Finally, I got control of myself and repositioned for the shot. Close in, with visibility at about 300m, I released a torpedo from astern and sunk the ship. Still submerged, my sonar man called out that he had a contact. The war ship was dead in the water. Too good an opportunity to miss, I elected to spend one of my dwindling number of torpedoes against him. Three torpedoes left and I settled the boat into a perfect 90° port side lay up. I elected to set the torpedo for an impact trigger, and loosed. The torpedo passed directly under the boat! Shocked I re-checked my settings. In my haste, I had set the trigger to magnetic! It had passed under the ship with no effect. Annoyed with myself, I resolved the solution and launched another torpedo, set at 4m depth and impact triggered. It too passed under the ship. Totally perplexed, I decided to actually READ my identification manual. I was livid with myself when I read, ‘Draft: 3.8 m’.
Setting my final torpedo to impact trigger at 1 m depth, not willing to take any chances, I fired and was rewarded with a destroyed destroyer. That little phrase was giggled around the boat. Out of torpedoes now, I surfaced, and in terrible weather made back for base. Then I realized, I had no idea which base I was going to! A check with BDu had us on route to Kiel, but before we left our assigned zone a miraculous weather break occurred, almost instantaneously, the sky went from over cast to clear, the winds dropped to a whisper. Almost as suddenly, I picked up a cargo ship steaming towards us. With a grin at my officers, I ordered the d/g manned and went duck hunting. The target was far off on the horizon when I gave Kals permission to fire, and I had difficulty making the ship. Nevertheless as we closed we identified a C3 Cargo ship. As we were pumping shells into the ship, a plane buzzed us. I ordered my flak gunner to his station and he began shooting. The lone plane didn’t particularly worry us. Seaman Brents for some reason leaned over the side of the conning tower to get a better view of the plane as it began its attack run. I watched him lean over and point, and even as the thought formed in my mind to order him back to his post, the bomb struck. A jarring shockwave sent us all sprawling, and with a scream Seaman Brent fell from the con. I screamed for the engines to come to the stops, and for a port side turn to clear the screws from the side Brents had fallen, but the bomb had disorientated us all. Suddenly the sea turned crimson. Brents had gone through our screws. Sickened to my stomach I called man overboard, and we maneuvered the boat to retrieve the lifeless floating corpse. All the while, Kals gunning of the ship provided a macabre drum beat, measuring the guilt that washed over us.
Seaman Brents was 20 years old. This would have been his first war cruise. As I looked across at the C3, she burst into flame, and my watchman spotted another small merchant heading towards us. Not missing a beat, Kals fired and sank that ship too.
We used the remainder of the days weather to hunt for more targets, a mute melancholy aboard the boat, but found nothing to attack. As suddenly as the weather break had occurred, it was gone, and we plunged back into the howling maelstrom of rain and wind. Ordering the boat back to base, we returned to port. On sailing in, I ordered the ship’s flag to half mast, and hung a black cloth over the combing. Disembarking from the ship, we filed our reports, and then I picked up the telephone and called Personnel Records. I located the address of Seaman Brents next of kin, and ordered a staff car. Walking up the pathway to the neat little whitewashed cottage I heard a woman begin to wail. Before I could knock, the door opened and an old man stood before me. His eyes shone with tears, and I drew myself up and saluted in the correct manner.
“Mien Herr, my name is Lieutenant Senior Gerhard Linden, Kaptain of U-Boot 49.”
“I know who you are Kaleun. My son. He is dead isn’t he?” The voice was steady, cold.
“Yes sir. He died in action defending the ship. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
The man appraised me for what seemed an age. Then he spoke again.
“You can keep your sympathy. And your salutes. You have taken my only son from me. Get your filthy fascist disgraceful self off my land you swine!” His voice rose to a scream, the hysteria getting control of him.
Slowly I turned away and walked back to the car. As it drove away I stared out the window and whispered to myself, “Damn this war. Damn it all to hell.”

As Brents commanding officer I presided over his burial. It was a short, solemn affair. The entire crew turned out and stood in the derelict cemetery where his remains had been placed by his family. His mother, pale and sobbing couldn’t speak with grief. His father spoke of his joy at being able to serve the Fatherland. Suzanne had not yet left for St. Nazaire, and she sat and listened to the eulogy quietly, her hand in mine. Then I had to speak. I had thought about it hard.
“Brents’ died living his dream. We should all be so fortunate. This war cares not who you are or how old you may be. She takes lives to feed her incessant hunger without discrimination. Remember this when you remember Hans Brents. Remember that he died living his life, unafraid, painlessly. He regretted nothing. Rest in peace Hans. Forgive your shipmates their failure to protect you.”
I returned to my seat, and Suzanne’s hand rested upon my shoulder.
After the crowd began walking away, I sat and watched the grave diggers fill the hole they had dug. Brents’ father came and stood before me.
“You were right Kaleun,” he said slowly. “Hans wouldn’t have gone any other way. My wife is at peace now. Thank you for your words. And please forgive mine.”
I looked up at him for a while. Then nodded. He walked away, and I continued to stare off into the spot he had vacated. Suzanne sat beside me like that for a long while before I spoke again. “I should have saved him Suzanne.”
“You couldn’t.”
“I could’ve have chosen a more experienced sailor! One who knew better than to stand so precariously on the conn!”
“And he may have died too. You can’t save them all Gerhard.”
“But I’m going to try. So help me Suzanne, I’m going to try.”

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.