Holiday Season Bastards!

[Brag]

Lt. Otto Kalb writes:

U-502, 30 December 1941.

We sailed from Lorient at 2100 hrs. of 24 December 1941. Being Christmas eve, our torpedoes were festooned with Christmas drawings and slogans like: Peace on earth, Merry Christmas from us to you. Greetings to people of good will, Jingle bombs, Rudolf the Red Nosed Torpedo, usw. Full of Christmas spirit, the choir sang the Heilige Nacht Hoochie Woochie as we departed.

The conning tower had a Christmas tree with an effigy of Bernard hanging by the neck..

Ordered to patrol south of Freetown, we had an uneventful transit of the Bay of Biscaya and on 30 December we received a report of a large convoy 500 kms. WNW of Lisbon.

We were in perfect position to intercept.

A dive at noon revealed the convoy had changed course and we needed to race ahead of it for an attack shortly after sunset.

"Excellent convoy to finish the year with a boom-boom," Balz said.

At sunset, we were in perfect position at battle stations, periscope depth, silent running, doing two knots and like pigs heading into the roaster the convoy approached straight for us. The captain reported several large ships and a Black Swan zig-zagging in the lead.
"Down Scope."
Balz plotted the Swan's progress from reports by the sound man. It was going to pass close, but not too bad.
"This is going to be a 30, maybe 40 thousand ton hoochie woochie," Balz said.
The Black Swan was getting closer, but the relative bearing kept changing. The miss would be about two hundred meters.
In the zentralle, it was as quiet as tomb.
"Bearing 340, steady 340, steady 340," the hydrophone man announced in high pitched whisper.
"Sheisse-hoochie," Balz murmured.
"Bearing steady--"
Ping, ping, ping. We could also hear accelerating engines.
"Dive!"
Metal screached as the hull of the Black Swan scraped the conning tower.
"Wasserbomben."
"Ahead flank, rudder 20 degrees starboard."
This was the end.
Almost immeditely, explosions shoock the boat like I've never seen before.
"Damage control, report."
""No damage to report"
"Dive to two hundred meters."
What the hell? screw noises approaching again, our depth is 17 meters.
"That's a second bastard," Balz said.
No escaping this time.
The Swan's engines roared overhead. Another perfect pass. Where did that bastard come from?
The final hoochie-woochie has arrived. At this depth we were dead meat.
"Wasserbomben."
Babooba, barrroombubooba. Explosions rumbled together. The boat shook, rocked and rolled.

Our boot began to respond and head for the ordered depth at good speed. The first Black Swan made its approach. At flank speed, we made so much noise, the Swan had no trouble dropping his ashcans on our boot. But 60 meters depth was better than twelve.
The moment, DCs started exploding Balz ordered a 20 degree wiggle-waggle, which we completed as the last Dc's exploded.
"Speed one knot."

I don't know why we weren't killed, let alone escaped without damage. Silently, we crept away to give the enemy hell in this promising new year. But how did that Black Swan discovered us, is a bothersome question.:hmm: