(story) The Grey Wolf

[Jimbuna]

Nice read Dan

[DanBiddle]

Here's the next part! Enjoy

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In November 1940, shortly after the successful invasion of France, Admiral Karl Dönitz had moved his Headquarters and the whole of the BdU staff from Paris to a requisitioned mansion just outside Lorient. Kernevel was a striking building, and would have once been very beautiful without the large Nazi banners suspended from windows.

Kapitänleutnant Max Donath had been escorted to a waiting staff car almost as soon as the destroyer had docked in Lorient. He was still wearing the same dirty, oil-stained clothing and had barely been able to speak a few words to the survivors of his crew. The driver had not hung about, and Donath could scarcely remember a faster trip to the house.

As he climbed out of the Mercedes onto the gravelled drive, Donath looked grimly at the SS sentries before walking between them and into the carpeted hallway. A young lieutenant escorted him up the stairs and then down the long hallway to the double doors at the end. A small desk and a couple of chairs were outside the door, and Donath was confronted by a bespectacled lieutenant seated at the desk. He had white cloth between his gold stripes.

He snapped severely, “I’m Merkel, Admiral’s secretary. He’s waiting.”

The inner office had once been the master bedroom. Now it was cleared of all the previous furniture and the wooden floor was covered by a large rug. The walls were panelled in dark mahogany and bookcases covered one wall. A table and chairs sat in one corner of the room and a large balcony dominated the other wall. Dönitz was stood with his back to a radiator, his eyes fixed on the door as Donath entered. He waited until Donath had crossed the room and then thrust out a hand.

“Glad to have you back, Donath.” He gestured to a chair and then crossed to a decanter and glasses.

Donath watched him warily. Dönitz was just the same as he had always been. He was very close to his commanders and men, and Donath had known no better leader. Yet, despite all this, Donath had never been more nervous about an interview with the Admiral.

Dönitz offered him a glass. “Nice drop of brandy.” His eyes were fixed on Donath’s, very clear in the enclosed room. “The French certainly know how to make it!” He added dryly.

Donath sipped it slowly, waiting for Dönitz to begin. He didn’t have to wait long.

“I suspect you’ve learnt more about command in the last two days than the rest of your time in U-boats combined, eh?”

Donath nodded slowly, his hand gripping the glass tighter. It was empty, but he had not remembered drinking the brandy.

“Yes, sir. There was nothing more I could do. The escorts…”

Donath stopped as the Admiral held up a hand. “Stop yourself, Donath. I hold you responsible for the loss of U-31, as it should be, but in no way do I blame you. No matter how experienced or how skilful a commander is, eventually the odds are going to turn against him. Three of our greatest aces were lost nearly a year ago now. I don’t blame them either. Talk me through what happened, eh?”

Donath nodded again as Dönitz refilled his glass. “We had been ordered to attack the convoy, and when we received the order we were set up perfected to intercept. A couple of hours steaming and we dived and picked up their tracks a few thousand metres away. It was exceptionally foggy that morning, and we crept in on the surface, on electric motors to keep the noise down.” Donath stared into space as he relived the experience. “We had just fired a salvo of four at a large tanker in the central column when a destroyer came sprinting in from abeam and fixed us in her searchlight. We scarcely had time to avoid the ram, but avoid it we did. I steered hard a port at ahead flank on the surface to clear the destroyer and then crash-dived once we had some room.” He looked up and looked straight into Dönitz’s eyes. “I have no idea how he found us. There was practically no visibility, and we were silent, yet he came for us as if we were highlighted against the sea.” He shook his head. “It was uncanny.”

Donath took another sip of the brandy. “We went deep quickly, and had a moment’s respite before the depth-charges came. We were kept under for six hours, and one of the last charges ruptured the seals on the propeller shafts.” He spread his hands. “After that, it was game over. We managed to surface, but every time the shafts rotated, they enlarged the leak slightly more, made the pumps work even harder. Then, last night just before dusk they were finally overcome, and we could no longer keep the water out.” He took another gulp of the brandy. “I ordered Hans the signalman to send off an SOS and then put the enigma and codebooks in the weight bag. I dropped them over myself after everyone had got out. One of the rafts burst, so we only had two to use, and as you know we couldn’t all fit on them. We were picked up at dawn.” He lapsed into silence.

Dönitz cleared his throat heavily. “Donath, thank you for reliving it for me. It can’t have been pleasant.” He raised his voice suddenly, making Donath sit up with a jolt. “But now is not the time for brooding! I need all my men now, and experienced commanders are hard to come by these days. If I allow you leave, then you will come back a wreck, totally unsuitable for combat operations. I need you out there, Donath, at least for the next few months. What do you say? If you don’t feel up to it then I will pull you off combat duties.”

Donath sat up straighter, and looked Dönitz in the eye. “I need a command, sir, now more than anything.”

Dönitz nodded sadly. “Yes, everyone in the service heard about your loss, and we are all saddened by it. Now your boat has been lost as well." He paused. "Chin up, lad, you’ve got a lot to give yet.” He shuffled some papers on his desk. “I’m posting you to the 11th Flotilla in Bergen.” He held up a hand again. “I know, you haven’t heard of them. It’s a new flotilla, and still working up. The commander of U-335 was unfortunately shot by an over anxious sentry last night. It’s Norway for you, Donath!”

As Donath left Kernevel in another staff car, all he could think about was the new boat. A fresh start. He had never needed it more.



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Cheers,



Dan

[Kpt. Lehmann]

Good stuff Mr. Biddle.

[U-104]

[Lagger123987]

More!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[azn_132]

Keep on comin, dont stop now.

[DanBiddle]

Thanks for all your comments guys! They make all the difference - it's nice to know it's being appreciated. The next installment will be along soon - although to be honest, Norway in January does sound decidedly cold!

Cheers,

Dan

[Chock]

Whenever I see threads on forums where someone has written a story, I always hope that reading it won't be a disappointment. Unfortunately it very often is.

But not in this case Dan, I was really very pleasantly surprised by how good both of your installments were. You clearly have some talent for writing, and since I spent ten years writing for a newspaper - still do it as a job now as well as teaching a copywriting course - I'd like to think I know what I'm talking about.

You have a great opportunity here too; whenever anyone is writing historical fiction, especially historical fiction that has to include technical details, there are numerous pitfalls awaiting the author. Not only do they have to consider dramatic structure, dialogue, pacing etc, they've also got to be a meticulous researcher, as one slip of detail in an historical story, and they've broken the spell, and lost the reader.

I suspect that if any errors had cropped up in your story, the rivet-counters would have been on it in a flash! Which means you've probably got some of the best technical proof-readers available to you. So here is a great place to hone your work, and when you've done that, go for the big one - write a novel.

There was always a joke going around the writers at the newspapers and other places I've worked with writers that went like this: There are three kinds of writers, those who are in the process of writing their big novel, those who are waiting to start writing it, and those who sit there thinking 'I bet I could write something better than that', but who never start it. I'm in the former group, having been working on mine for approximately the past three years, largely because it too is set in the past and requires tons of research. :rotfl: So it's nice to see another writer who has got off his ass and actually started doing it!

Keep it up Dan, it's good stuff.

Chock