(Story) U-104

[MantiBrutalis]

Diary of Manfred Bollmann, 2nd January 1941, U-104, somewhere in the Atlantic.

We reached our designated patrol area yesterday in the morning. Captain said he knew there was prey close, so he set up quite a fast patrol route. For 24 hours it looked like we were burning fuel for nothing, then BdU sent me a contact very, very close to us. The message said it was a British ship, slowly moving away from us west.

It took just 15 minutes to find it – the captain spot it first, even though there wasn’t much light in the morning. Again he insisted that we get close and personal with our deck gun – the ship was moving away, and our batteries wouldn’t be enough to close the distance before they would be empty. Again, there was no return fire. But there was fire. Loads of it. At least the men who were up there said so. With more 5000 tons on us, we were pretty happy to look forward to the way back home.

But – we weren’t going home. The captain explained that we were supposed to be on a major shipping lane, which has to bring us some prey for our yet unused torpedoes. So we’re sailing along the supposed shipping lane towards Canada. The crew isn’t very happy about that. I am not very happy about that. We were ordered not to engage American ships, so what is he hoping to find here? I hope he finds it soon – I have never been this far from home. I never wanted to be on a tiny tin can in middle of the Atlantic. We are sailing away from the patrol area – in the wrong direction…

[Kelly621]

Keep your reports coming...one of the lasting qualities of SH3 is that it fires our imagination

Kelly621

[Aarnoman]

Keep them coming MantiBrutalis! Very enjoyable to read so far

[MantiBrutalis]

As experienced by Herbert Krauss, 4th January 1941, 7 AM, U-104, somewhere in the Atlantic.

I hear the captain shouting orders in the command room. Anytime now we will breach the surface. I can almost feel the merchant some 200 meters behind this wall.

I look at Arnold sitting on the other torpedo: “How many do you reckon?” “Should be a small ship. About 30?” “I bet they can sink her in 20,” I say. Nothing to do for us torpedo loaders. We sneaked up upon a small merchant we met, took us an hour under water. In this darkness, we couldn’t be sure about their flag, so we ended up pretty close.

We hear a hatch open, many legs rushing up the ladder. The few of us without work to do remain still and listen for the action up there. Few others begin to feed rounds up to the conning tower.

Bam! “One.”

I can hear two pairs of feet running from the tower to the deck gun, each man with a huge round in their hands.

Bam! “Two.”

There is some kind of a commotion suddenly, everybody up there stops and hesitates for a moment. We can hear the captain shouting: “Don’t just stand there, get that spotlight!”

Bam! “Three.”

Arnold smiles: “I told you, 30 rounds. They gonna waste a few trying to knock out that light. They could make it in 20, if it wasn’t blinding them.” “20, if they can pack –“ Bam! “- them all under the waterline.” “No way.”

We didn’t fire a single torpedo this patrol. Just maintenance for a week now, kinda boring.

Bam! “Five.”

“You think the captain will have enough now and head home?” I ask. “No way, he won’t leave these ladies unused,” Arnold says while gently rubbing his chair-torpedo. I just want to head home now, we aren’t even doing anything.

Bam!




Note - I seriously had a nightmare last night, with car accidents and stuff. And suddenly, in the middle of it, some random guy pesking me for my terrible past tences in this story. I am really sorry if I ******* English up from time to time.

[MantiBrutalis]

Diary of Manfred Bollmann, 5th January 1941, U-104, somewhere in the Atlantic.

Finally, the captain has what he wanted. We are finally making for a large British convoy south of us. When I delivered the contact report to the command room, I briefly watched the Navigation Officer make a lot of weird lines and circles on the map. I asked how precise can he be with determining the intercept course. He probably didn’t hear me, because the captain answered for him – “Magically. Now get back to your work”

We sank a small merchant yesterday and a bigger one this morning. Both of them with same procedure – sneak up in the darkness below water, check their flag and armaments with our periscope… And then the deck gun. It is really being put to work this patrol, it is responsible for 22000 tons of merchants so far.

We are some 800 km east of Canada now. I hope that we can make a fast attack on the convoy and go finally home. We are even getting close to having just enough fuel to go home, although we still have food enough for some 2 or 3 weeks. Large and British – means a lot of prey with lot of escorts. Max is quite superstitious, he thinks that attacking a convoy with a nameless ship will bring us bad luck. Or a depth charge.

[MantiBrutalis]

As experienced by captain Georg Braun, 6th January 1941, noon, U-104, somewhere in the Atlantic.

Here we go. Finally. Spent last two hours deep under water to slip under the escorts. Now we’re slowly making our way up. Any time now. If the hydrophones guys is any good, we will come up right on the middle of the convoy. Just a few meters now…

“Open tubes one and two.”

Come on, come up, come up. Now. Oh boy. There is a lot. I quickly check for any escorts around, then hastily observe the prey. All British, as I can see. Ahead, behind. This will go very well. Let’s do this…

[MantiBrutalis]

As experienced by Max Wermuth, 6th January 1941, noon, U-104, somewhere in the Atlantic.

Even through the hydrophones on my ears, I can hear them, pinging. Very faintly. Then again, few explosions to our left. They definitely think we are somewhere else than we really are. 200 meters under. Listening. Waiting for the escorts to catch up to the convoy. They should fear for the now poorly protected convoy and leave us be.

We heard all 6 torpedoes explode, but the captain wasn’t very happy about the first two. They exploded too early, captain first thought that they went off prematurely. Then I heard the crushing of metal, pressures claiming a ship, squeezing it in the deep water. After telling the captain, he began laughing. He said he misjudged the first two forward torpedoes, and it probably hit the small merchant closest to us, instead of a large merchant that we were supposed to hit.

Another set of depth charges explode to our left. Then a few more behind us, but I can tell they’re somewhat different. I quickly turn the wheel to listen in that direction. There! Another ship, slowly making its way down to the ocean floor. Captain reeks happiness now – both stern torpedoes found its target – cargo ship, estimated 9000 tons.

Another set of depth charges. The captain is good – he doesn’t believe in the reliability of electric torpedoes, but uses them for the stern tubes – so the escorts don’t have such an easy time to guess our position. They can’t find us even in this calm sea.

Time passes by. Still, I can hear three engines operating to our left, although they stopped with the charges. They should catch up to the convoy any time now. Then we maybe could go home…