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.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 1 September ’40 – 6 September ‘40

Our orders are in! Transit the English Channel and enter our new home port. Along the way we should seek to interdict merchants ships as usual, and destroyers if possible, to distract them from raiding our surface ships. The day before that however, I was to attend an award ceremony for officers. Several officers in our flotilla were called to the front and presented with various medals and promotions. The Officers all sat on one side of the hall, and the guests on the other. Slowly the number of recipients dwindled, and I began to feel uncomfortable. I hoped I had been invited by mistake, as had happened with one or two officers before.
Then, the commander spoke my name, and I stood and marched to the front. Standing at attention I heard the commander speak my citation.
“For bravery in the face of battle, and superior merit commanding the men of U-Boat 49, the Chancellery of the German Reich bestows the Order of the Knights Cross with Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds upon Senior Lieutenant Gerhard Linden.”
Everything seemed to go hazy and the next thing I knew, the commander was pumping my hand and grinning in my face.
”Well done my boy,” he grinned, and then he hung the coveted medal around my neck. As one the officers side of the hall came to their feet, cheering and clapping. I stood there as, what Fritz would later describe as, ‘a stunned mongoose.’
When the rowdy officers finally quieted, the presentation was dismissed. Suzanne walked up to me and smiled.
“Well done sailor!” She smiled. I smiled back at her and gathered in my arms. Kissing her deeply. After a minute or two we parted the embrace and walked arm in arm down the pathway. I filled with equal parts joy and worry. I would now escort her to the train station where she would make for St. Nazaire. I would not see her again until then. We climbed into the staff car, and made for the train station. Standing on the track, her luggage already loaded, she looked up at me as I turned her towards me. I marveled at the beauty of her. 5’5” of pure wonder. Her hair shone in the sunlight, her lips were a perfect soft red. Her eyes sparkled, and she smelled of flowers. She wore a large peach colored hat, complementing her traveling dress. She met my eyes and I as I drank in the moment of being with her. Then she kissed me lightly and disengaged herself from me.
“It would seem fate for once turns the tables on you Herr Kaleun.” She smiled, “For today it is I who leaves, and you who must watch. It’s a lousy place to be isn’t it?”
The last query was delivered with a prod to my chest. Smoothing the creases of my dress uniform she stood on her tiptoes and delivered another quick kiss.
“See you soon my love.” She whispered.
“Be safe my angel,” I whispered back, and kissed her once more. Then she began walking to the train. I watched the train pull out and turned back to the waiting staff car. Returning to base, I was struck how empty and desolate it was.

After a sleepless night I finally boarded the boat, and the crew made preparations to cast off. Transiting the peninsula for what we hoped would be the last time. We plotted a course for the English channel and set to. Our intelligence had pointed out that the channel was empty. That was hardly the case. Shortly after passing Dover we encountered a V&W Destroyer heading the opposite way. It was pitch back night, and I submerged and prepared a solution. My Weapons Officer had diligently arranged several extra electrical torpedoes for us, and I planned to use them against this formidable target. Selecting my tube, plotting my solution and firing, we waited for the stopwatch to reach the correct mark. Suddenly halfway between the target and ourselves (about 750m) there was a tremendous explosion! I looked at the water and in my confusion, thought the target had fired on us. Then my weapons officer announced in a flat voice, “The weapon has detonated Herr Kaleun.”
Dammit.
Re-enter the new solution, select the second electric loaded, and fire. This time the torpedo hadn’t traveled 10 seconds when it too exploded.
Disgusted with the whole charade I put my stern to the rapidly disappearing ship and went on my way.
Despite naval intelligence informing us the strait was quiet, I was nevertheless best by no less than five warships. They never detected us, but we stalked an armed trawler for a long while before electing to expend a third electrical torpedo. This time the torpedo sailed under the targets keel and swam harmlessly away. I began using some choice words to explain my displeasure. Then we happened upon a few lone costal merchants. In total we sank 5 ships, all costal merchants save two small merchants. Expending all our torpedoes but two, we made for our new base. Our torpedo was has come a long way, and we managed several kills at ranges of 1500m! The crew, and I, have learnt patience and diligence, and our kills are no longer a matter of pride, but a matter of professionalism.

On the 3rd of September, the crew surprised me completely. I was standing on the bridge with the watch when our boat came to a slow stop. Perplexed I called down and demanded speed, but had no answer. Grumbling mightily I descended to the command room and there, Fritz had managed to cram all officers and NCOs into the little room. As I descended the ladder they began singing Happy Birthday (very badly), in English no less! Fritz and Carlewitz had spent painstaking hours teaching our NCOs the confounded song. We had a good laugh at that. Thanking the crew, I then accepted Fritz’s offer to be escorted along the length of the boat, and here each and every seaman stopped his work and greeted me for my birthday. I was quite touched. Essentially, this boat has become one big overextended family. Many of these men have been with me since this war began a year ago. I am proud to serve with them for the Fatherland!

Finally we transited to our new port. I’ll miss the protection of the enclosed pens I imagine, but the living areas are much more spacious. My office is still cramped, but the town of St. Nazaire is beautiful, clean and lively. I look forward to exploring it with Suzanne. Ironically, my transit was faster than hers, and I shall have to wait upon her arrival. In the mean time, Fritz and myself have made every effort to scout the local Officer’s Nightclub wine selection. Some very fine choices of wine are available! Reckhoff informed me today that he has secured a residence in the Married Officers Quarters for himself and his family, but sadly my other officers and NCOs must content themselves with writing love letters home. Poor fools.

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[fabel]

You should bundle it in to a book

[danurve]

Fine read, and a talent to do so I wish I had.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 4 October ’40 - 11 October ‘40

Finally we encountered another convoy!
Having being ordered to patrol deep waters SW of the British Coast we established a plot on leaving St. Nazaire. Not halfway there my crew called me to the Conning tower. Ahead of us was a huge convoy making about 10 knots. Quickly I sent off a message to BDu command and plotted a course to take me on intercept. I checked my watch and planned the route to shadow the convoy until nightfall. Twilight came an hour later, but I waited a full two hours more for full dark. Then, on station and waiting, my sonar man informed me he had head the screws of the approaching convoy. As I neared the convoy from about a 45° angle to their port, I saw the ships begin to mill about. The confusion and disorder surprised me, then I realized the reason. The Luftwaffe had come to assist! While confusion rained in the convoy, I slipped amongst the ships and set to work. The first to go down was a troop transport ship, then I had my weapons officer plot a solution one of the two T3 tankers. Quickly she was ablaze, however a chance of misfortune had the escort destroyer spot me. Since I had a perfect shot from astern, I launched, and took out the tribal destroyer. The rest of the escorts descended on me and I ordered a dive to 100 meters. There we snuck over the next two hours as the ash cans dropped nearby. Finally free of the enemy sensors, I surfaced and flanked ahead of the convoy. Quiet as a mouse we snuck back into the convoy 5 hours later and rained more havoc. The last remaining T3 went down to my torpedo, but I was running out. I targeted the three C2 cargo ships but my last four shots saw only one slam home, the other three either missed or failed to detonate! The one hit we scored stopped the C2 dead, and I vacated the area and surfaced, then plotted a circuitous route back to the stricken C2 as I had my final torpedo taken out of the aft reserve. Patiently lining up the shot I fired, but the shot passed under the hull and detonated meters away from the ship. We left the scene unable to use our d/g due to inclement weather.

The rest of the patrol showed no further encounters, and we returned to port. We were greeted as heroes, we had achieved an incredible feat. I immediately recommended my men for awards. I promoted my Weapons officer to Lieutenant Jnr. for his amazing work at the Weapons Station during the convoy run. Kals finally got the First Class Cross he deserved for his assistance in the stern torpedo tubes. I promoted a further two men up the ranks from Seaman for their cool heads during the battle.
Our tonnage score for this mission was phenomenal, and the admiralty is very pleased with us!

I’ve been informed that the new IX boat is available to captains, but only in the 2nd Flotilla at the moment. This had put me in a quandary. I know that I could be approved for transfer and pull some strings for my own IX, but I also know that will hurt my chances of promotion, which can’t be far off now. I had been pondering the wiser move during the patrol, but it strikes me now that my best move would be to wait for my promotion before I think of moving Flotilla’s. A major part of the decision was that Suzanne would not possibly get a transfer so soon after asking for one, and I have no intention of leaving for another base without her.

Rumors from the Commanders office say that I am in line for a Knights Cross with Golden Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds, but I have heard nothing official. I would imagine these rumors are false, as I doubt I have accomplished enough to be awarded one of the twelve citations allowed. Nevertheless it is an exciting time for me.

When I arrived back at base, I phoned the hospital and asked if Suzanne had arrived yet. I received a negative reply. Despondent, and not a little worried, I left the office that afternoon and went back to my quarters. To my surprise, the door was unlocked, and the scent of home cooking wafted across to me as I entered and hailed the room. Candles were burning, a silver dinner service was set and out of the kitchen bustled the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
Suzanne smiled at me and walked over. Her hair was tied up, she was wearing a new dress of blue satin and a dark blue velvet choker with a sapphire set into it around her slender neck.
“Welcome home hero.” She smiled as she delicately wiped her hands on a tea towel. Then all delicateness was abandoned as she raced across the room and jumped into my arms. She kissed me and I kissed her. By the time we were finished her hair was a mess and her makeup all but gone, still she clung to me and held me against her.
Finally she parted with murmurings that dinner would burn and hurried to the kitchen. I followed after her.
“How did you get in here?” I asked, spying a bottle of chilled white wine and pulling it out the ice bucket.
“I became very good friends with your Commander’s wife at your last dinner party.” She smiled. “We women have to stick together you know. She bullied her husband into having the door forgetfully unlocked.”
I chuckled at the improbable image of my Commander, a man more bull than man, being hen pecked by his demure wife.
“I doubt it,” I smiled, “he probably suggested the idea himself!”
“Actually he was scandalized he hadn’t thought of it first!” Was the mirthful reply.
With a ‘pop’ the wine was opened and dinner was served. After weeks at sea with nothing ever fresh and hardly ever cooked, the food was meager, but delicious. Suzanne apologized at every turn that the vegetables weren’t fresh, they were canned, or that the roast was so small. Finally I put my hand on hers and she closed her mouth and looked at me.
“Suzanne. I love what you have done. It’s the most amazing thing in the world. I just want to know why you went to all this trouble.”
She looked at me as if I was bereft of reason.
“For your birthday you silly sub driver. I missed it, and I wanted to make up for it!”
I smiled at her, “Thank you my love, but you didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“Maybe not,” she agreed cheerfully, “but I wanted to!” An evil glint shone in her eye as she cocked her head and continued, “Besides. You’re doing the washing up!”

As the dishes were cleared away, Suzanne grabbed my hands and excitedly told me to follow her. “Where are we going?” I asked, completely confused.
“I’m going to show off my apartment,” she smiled, “and give you the second part of your birthday present.”
We rushed off to her home, not a five minute walk from my quarters. To my dismay, the Head Nurse’s apartment at St. Nazaire was larger than a U-Boot Kaleun’s berth! I pointed this out, with a touch of envy in my voice. Suzanne giggled and replied, “Well silly, that’s because Chief Nurses are usually married with families by the time they get here!” Later, when I told Fritz of this conversation, he clucked his tongue ominously and said, “Well that’s a hint Herr Kaleun!”
Sitting down in the living room, Suzanne rushed around the house, putting on the gramophone, making tea and finally sitting down beside me. In her dress which bared her shoulders, she was the epitome of grace. She carried a small bundle with her and she handed it to me as she sat. “Well, go on! Open it!!” She exhorted, and I opened the brown package. What came next took my breath away. A brand new copy of War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, translated into English! I stared at the book in my hands, aware that it couldn’t be had for love or money in the Reich. I would know. I had desperately tried to obtain a copy. “How?” I stammered, and she laughed gaily.
“My family have had a bookstore for three generations now my love, it was simply a matter of getting my dad to use his contacts!”
“I can’t accept this,” I began knowing full well how much such a book must have cost. Suzanne closed her hands around mine, still holding the book. “You must,” she whispered, “its yours. Open the cover. Go on!”
I opened the cover and on the blank page was a little note written in tiny, flowing script.
‘To my morning star, and my gallant Knight – happy birthday! Love forever, Suzanne.”
I closed the book slowly and stood. Carefully I placed it on the tea table then took Suzanne’s hands in mine and gently pulled her to her feet. I hugged her, and we stood like that for a long time. Finally I said, “Thank you mien liebschun.”

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 8 November ’40 – 21 November ‘40

If our previous patrols were exciting, then words could not describe the frantic pace of our latest patrol. Due to our increased kill ratio, we had been ordered to patrol the Northern coast of England. There it was hoped we could prey on the fat tankers and cargo ships being diverted that direction since the fall of France.

However, 24 Hours out of port, I stumbled across the lead destroyer of a convoy, as yet undetected! I immediately sent word to BDu and dived to periscope depth. It had just turned midnight as I raised my scope and look onto a scene to make any U-boot captains heart swell. Huge merchant ships milled about, organizing themselves into a convoy order. Without hesitation I selected the biggest target first. A T3 tanker. Setting the torpedo to explode beneath her, I loosed and immediately set up targeting the ship alongside her. The troop transport ship soon had her own trouble heading her way as I fired on her too. Seconds later, my first torpedo struck home and the T3 began breaking up from a massive explosion on her storage decks. The troop transport was hit next, and began to wallow, then sink in the calm waters. As I came about for another run, I raised my periscope at precisely the wrong moment. The searchlights of a V&W destroyer swept over us, and began firing with a vengeance. Quickly I submerged the boat, our position and direction of travel no longer a secret, I ordered a depth sounding. I hoped that between the two maneuvers I could convince the attacking ships of my direction of escape. With a sounding of over a 100 meters between myself and the bottom, I ordered the boat to 100 meters. Keeping my speed at Ahead Slow I turned the boat hard to starboard intending to use the merchants as obstacles to the hunt for me.
Suddenly the ocean exploded as depth charges began raining down on us. Fortunately we were saved from major damage by the turning, but I ordered an increase to flank speed as we descended. Between that and the noise our torpedo men made reloading, our position was giving away. The ruse had failed. The enemy began pinging us, they’re determination to destroy us driving us to greater efforts. The torpedo hatch slammed closed and my Watch officer called out that the torpedoes were stowed. I turned to Fritz and ordered ‘Rig ship for silent running.’ Immediately all non essential gear was stowed and all noisy activities ceased. The boat became as quiet as a tomb, the only sounds the groaning of protesting metal as the pressure on our hull increased. My weapons officer whispered in my ear, “Depth charges in the water!”
A few seconds later the water exploded once more, but above us, and too far to the left to be a problem.

Soon another destroyer entered the fray, lending her active sonar to the search, the soon located us once more. I waited for the sounds of the charges falling into the water before I changed course hard starboard and increased to flank. This time the explosions were closer and we took some minor damage. A pipe burst above Fritz’s head showering him with water, but he barely batted an eyelid and ordered the engine back to ahead slow. For 2 hours we tacked away from the battle, occasionally changing direction randomly to prevent any concentrated attack. As the sounds of the destroyers feel further behind us, I looked over my command room. The men were tense, covered in sweat, but in the red light their faces were set with a grim determination. I glanced at the battery and air readouts. Still 75% battery power, and more than 50% air. Forcing a gruff voice that could be heard throughout the command room, I said, “Bah! Not even 25% of our batteries were used! And we have enough air to float the entire English navy! They didn’t even try hunt us!”
A few nods greeted the statement, and the Weapons officer spoke up, “Ja Herr Kaleun. I’ve seen more concentrated searches for fish!” A chuckle followed the statement as the crew vented their tension.
“Come to periscope depth, raise the periscope and increase speed to Ahead full. Secure from silent running.”
I closed my eyes as the ship began her ascent and took a deep breath of the fetid air. At periscope depth a few minutes later, I did a sweep before allowing the ship to surface. There we began recharging our batteries and I plotted a route to intercept and engage the convoy again. Then I walked onto the bridge and stared at the horizon. I turned to stare SW and wondered what Suzanne was doing. Probably sleeping. And here I was on a big iron coffin shooting things at people equally determined to kill me. With a sigh, I returned to my bunk and opened the book I had brought with me. I began reading, but 3 hours later Fritz roused me, I looked up, the book on my chest and blinked.
We’ve reached the intercept point Kaleun,” Fritz informed me, “and our look outs have spotted the lead escorts. I’ve ordered us to periscope depth.”
I returned to the command deck and brought the boat to Ahead Slow. We crept past the hull of the enemy escort and after a few minutes I raised my periscope. I cursed silently as I watched the sun began her ascent. Walking to the map I estimated the convoys course and speed. We’d never get another night attack before the ship came into the more fiercely guarded English territorial waters. I didn’t relish a dawn attack, but I preferred one with three escorts to any other with more escorts and the potential to summon air support.

We began our attack run, three torpedoes leaving on their mission of death. The first detonated beneath the target T3, the other two impacted on their C2 targets, but neither sunk. I launched my fourth tube at the T3, this time the detonation, about 500 m off our bow was heard throughout the ship. Suddenly small caliber fire began striking around our periscope! We’d been spotted in the rising dawn. Quickly I lowered the scope and a shell crashed into the water and detonated against the watch tower. The boat rocked and we executed a fast dive, turning a reciprocal heading to the one we’d been spotted on. Rigging the ship for silent again, we began our exit. I checked our stores. Two torpedoes left, having expended some of our aft torpedoes during the dive in an attempt to score some kills. I evaluated the situation. I knew that our patrol zone was still to be reached, and elected to have some live torpedoes for the encounters up north. We slipped away from the convoy, but we felt we had done sufficient damage. Her two capital merchants and a vital troop transport were no more. Tanks, Fritz mused later, were far inferior to German infantry when there were no Limeys to drive them.

Leaving the scene of the battle we began our trek towards the patrol zone. In the clear weather we spotted a C3 cargo ship at long range, and electing to save my torpedoes I had Kals open fire. After about 12 direct hits the C3 exploded. And hour later we engaged a Coastal Merchant in the same manner. Pleased with the opportunity to add tonnage to our logs without the expense of torpedoes, the morale on the boat soared. Once again, U-49 was becoming the terror of the seas.

2 days after the first convoy attack, we were passing the Northern coast of Ireland when we happened across a second convoy! Dusk was falling and the weather was turning horrid, rain driving over the deck and limiting visibility. I made a bold decision. Keeping the watch at their stations, I infiltrated the convoy. Surfaced. Soon the looming hulk of the sole T3 tanker came into view and we fired off our final bow torpedo. With a deafening roar the ship lit up like a beacon in the dark night, and we quickly submerged and hustled out of sight. The escorts couldn’t even begin to search for us, and soon we had surfaced and brought our last aft torpedo out of her deck storage. It was early morning, and the weather had abated sufficiently for us to run through the convoy submerged this time. Patiently we cut through the convoy, searching for our final victim, and found her, a straggling C2 with the British flag. I briefly toyed with the idea of sinking the T3 under the American flag, but elected not to. As she passed by us, I began setting up the shot for the C2. 2 minutes later, the torpedo left her tube and slammed into the target. Another glorious explosion. The crew couldn’t contain themselves. A ‘Hurrah!” of joy was raised as I brought the periscope down. Grinning at Fritz I ordered a dive to 50 feet to avoid any nasty surprises, then we turned back to our plot for the patrol zone.
Although I had no torpedoes left, I hoped to happen along a ship in good weather. Alas, although we encountered 2 small merchants, the weather precluded any gunnery. Turning for home we were shocked when we heard the sounds of another convoy on our sensors!
Just to make him nervous, I asked for weather conditions above deck from the Nav Officer. He grinned at me and reported the wind speed in excess of 16 m/s.
Then he surprised me and asked if he should order Kals to the deck. I played with the idea, but finally decided that the wind and waves were beyond reasonable safety limits, and that I would be foolish to end such a glorious patrol with a surfaced gunnery attack on a guarded convoy. So we did the next best thing and shadowed the convoy for a while, reporting it to BDu. Then we returned home. At 25 km from port I radioed St. Nazaire and informed them of our approach. I glanced at my clock. 5 o’clock in the evening. Suzanne would be getting off work now. I went to the bridge and faced the howling elements at their most furious as we docked. The band had set up under a shelter, but there was no one on the pier to greet us. Except one lonely figure, clutching a shawl as the wind and rain buffeted her. Her free hand waved frantically at me and with my binoculars I could see the smile on her rain soaked face.

Never had it taken so long to lower the gangway and secure the ship to the pier. I rushed across the gangplank and lifted Suzanne into the air. Setting her down I kissed her, speaking of my love for her without words. Finally we parted and she swayed giddily with joy.
“I was told you’d be docking!” She shouted over the wind, “I thought I’d come say hello!”
In my arms I felt her shiver, and noticed her lips were blue with cold. I swept off my raincoat and wrapped it around her as I told her how much of a mad banshee she was to be out in this weather. With a smile she kissed me once more and told me to come visit her when I was done at the base. I agreed and she made off into the rain for home. With my raincoat. Which I only realized when she disappeared from view.

The patrol report was quickly sent off to the commanders office, and I made for Suzanne’s apartment. There the smell of coffee filled the air and she emerged from the bathroom as I knocked on the open door, toweling her wet hair. Her long auburn hair fell to her shoulders, in complete disarray from the vigorous drying.
“Never have I seen such a vision of beauty,” I said as I walked towards her.
“That’s because you’ve been cooped up in a smelly boat for weeks!” She laughed as she threw the towel at me. “For a wonder, we have hot water, and your bath is drawn. Now go. And shave! I think you gave me beard burn!” Perplexed, I entered the bathroom and noted the full, steaming bath, with a pair of my casual pants and a shirt folded on the dresser. My spare shaving kit was sitting by the washstand.
“You’ve been visiting while I was gone.” I called from the bathroom. My only answer was a mirthful chuckle. Ten minutes later I was sinking into the glorious water. A while later I emerged, feeling a new man. “Goodness, by time you showed up sailor. I had begun to think you may have sunk!”
“You should have sent a search party then!” I laughed, and she looked up at me. “Don’t think I didn’t consider it!” she said, “But then I couldn’t get hold of Fritz to lead the search!”
The image of Fritz waltzing into the room with me in the bath wiped the grin off my face. Another chuckle followed and I was pulled to the chair and given a kiss.
“Now tell me everything,” I was commanded as coffee was poured and served.

The next morning I reported to the commander of 7th Flotilla and gave my report. By the end of the day I had completed my paperwork for the recommendations. A few days later we held the awards ceremony for U-49’s crew once more. In the cheery sunlight morning, with my men dressed in their parade best, and the guests in the latest fashions from Paris, I called forward the men, as I handed out promotions and medals. I awarded the First Class Iron Cross to my watchman for his bravery in holding the watch during the convoy attack. Two NCOs and a seaman earned their promotions too. Finally I read the citation for the final award.
“For his bravery and loyalty during the patrols on U-Boot 49, the people of the German Reich take pleasure in awarding the Iron Cross Second Class to Sub Lieutenant Fritz Freiderichs, Chief Engineer of U-49. I pinned the decoration to my friend and smiled at him. Then I returned to the podium and as the applause died down I continued.
“For his outstanding valor and dedication, the Kaleun of U-Boot 49 confers on Sub Lieutenant Fritz Freiderichs the rank of Junior Lieutenant, with all benefits and privileges thereof.” The crowd exploded with applause and I pretended to ignore Fritz’s wet eyes as I presented him with his badges of rank. Then the commander too the podium, thanked me and gave me permission to dismiss the men. Doing so, I waited as they filed off the presentation stage, and as I turned to march off behind them, the commander called me to attention. Perplexed, I came to attention, not fully sure what I was expecting.
“For his bravery and daring in the command of the men of U-49, the Chancellor of the German Reich sends his personal regards and respects to Lieutenant Senior Gerhard Linden. He regrets that the affairs of war preclude his personal presentation of this auspicious commendation, as he confers on you the order of the Knights Cross, with Golden Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds. This is the highest honour any man can aspire to. Wear it with pride Kaleun. His warm regards, Chancellor Hitler.”
I trembled as the medal was given to me. Then the commander drew himself erect and saluted me. My years of military training snapped to the fore and I saluted back crisply. With pride in his voice, the Commander dismissed me.
Suzanne congratulated me, and in seconds I was swarmed by the men of U-49. From crewman to officer they all wanted to pay respects.

As England grows bolder and more cunning, hiding her convoys behind the American flags, I begin to fear that the war may not soon come to an end. Though the deeds of the men of U-49 are heroic, I fear we shall have greater legends to create as we push further into the war. It is with overwhelming pride that I push on in the defense of the Fatherland, with the brave crew of U-49 behind me.

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 19 December ’40 - 30 December ‘40

Once again U-49 proved her mettle upon the waters around the English coast.
Sailing from St. Nazaire, we plotted a course to take us to the Eastern coast of Britain. At this stage of the war, things have changed vastly from our early days!
Once rife with both shipping and enemy attack craft, the Channel was devoid of life. Only the ghosts of dead merchants echoed across the lonely waters.
Transiting the Straits at night, we ran her surfaced at full ahead, with a sharp watch on the conn. We spotted several Elco boats but they never managed to detect us. Occasionally, I dived to periscope depth and brought the boat through a lazy circle to detect any contacts. In particular I wanted to know of any warships in advance of our position. Twice we detected warships, but both were far removed from our track. Passing by Portsmouth, we detected a C2 making a dash for the open ocean. She never made it. In darkness, we approached her submerged and prepared for the shot. Our torpedo skills have improved immensely. Honed, no doubt, by the numerous convoy runs we have attacked. Smoothly we set up a solution, fired and watched the torpedo slam into her. Then we fired our second shot. This too slammed into the ship and I prepared to pull alongside her to surface and deliver a coup de grace with our d/g when I heard sonar report a warship inbound on our position. Rather than risk a confrontation so close to the enemy’s ports, I decided to leave the area. Turning our stern to the stricken cargo ship, we fired an aft tube and obliterated her. We exited the scene before the enemy warship arrived, surfaced a little later and continued our run for our patrol zone.

Moving north from Dover we then encountered another C2, again submerged we released our first torpedo and re-plotted for our second shot. As we began to do this, the first torpedo detonated prematurely. Unphased we fired our second torpedo and this time we were rewarded with the weapon slamming into the after section of the boat. Following our already established ‘two-shot policy’, I ordered the boat surfaced and the d/g manned. A few shots aimed at the command deck sent the enemy ship to the seabed.

Entering our patrol zone, we established a step ladder pattern and slowed to one third. Periodically submerging and surfacing to detect merchants. We were rewarded towards the end of our patrol with the discovery of a C3 Merchant ship. Serendipitously, she was steaming directly into firing position. A novel luxury, I had the boat submerged and stopped. We waited in that position like a deadly viper, waiting until the captain of the C3 obliged us by steaming his ship perfectly into our sights. Long a skeptic of the salvo firing, the weapons officer and I discussed and decided to use a salvo shot. I was far more confident in both his and my own skills with regard to targeting now that we’ve gained so much experience. I was also confident that a missed shot would be circumvented by a surface action, as the weather was extremely accommodating. Kals voiced the hope that we would miss, and I sent him scurrying from the command room with a glare. We established our shot, opened our tubes and released. Our excellent position, only 600 m from the ship was key to this shot. The torpedoes slammed fore and aft on the target, and she came to a dead stop within 100 meters of the position we had struck her. Maneuvering the boat alongside at a range of 1000 m, I surfaced manned the d/g and opened fire with amour piercing shells at the boats hull. After some time, the cargo ship exploded spectacularly and sank beneath the calm waters.
Later that evening we encountered two separate Coastal merchants, which I ordered destroyed with the d/g to preserve torpedoes. As we prepared to leave our patrol zone, we happened along a trawler. In a moment of malevolence, I ordered the ship sunk, deciding to take full advantage of the beautiful weather. Standing on the forward deck as Kals fired at the ship, I calmly remarked, “A beautiful night to be a German U-Boat is it not Kals?”
“Ja Herr Kaleun,” he answered, sending a shell into the trawler, “but a terrible night to be a trawler I am thinking yes?”
With a good chuckle at the observation I watched as the trawler was sent to the sea bottom. That same day, the 26th of December we had a belated little Christmas. First a lumbering C3 crosses our path and she is sunk again with another successful salvo, and some gentle prodding from our guns. Then as we decided to turn for home, I get a radio report of a fast moving vessel ahead of us. I try to intercept, but the mysterious vessel is too fast. Curious, I engaged in a long stern chase until we sighted our quarry on the horizon. A T2 Tanker sped her way up north. With a happy grin we gave chase, Fritz liking us to pirates of old who’d give chase in the stern quarter. Except that those pirates had not the advantage of naval gunnery to the caliber we possessed. Ordering the d/g manned, and determined to see some fireworks, we pumped amour piercing shells into the after deck of the tanker. With a spectacular explosion she slipped beneath the waves. I intend to explore this particular method of downing the T2 in the future.
Following the tanker kill up with a costal merchant sunk with our aft torpedoes, we returned to course. Destination: St. Nazaire. With two remaining torpedoes, one bow and one stern, we headed for home. Soon I received news of a cargo ship heading towards us. Setting the watch and sailing directly at the intercept, we were surprised when we missed our fateful rendezvous. Submerging, I established a sonar contact, surfaced and gave chase. The weather had turned from placid to storm in a matter of minutes, and our visibility in the dark howling night was perhaps 200 m. Suddenly the hull of a C2 cargo ship loomed above us starboard side, barely 50m from my bow. Ordering a turn to port and cutting engines to slow, we went undetected as our stern came around and a torpedo was fired. A single torpedo crashed into the boat and sank her. Jubilant at the extremely efficient handling of our boat and weapons we made for home.

The English it seems, were content to allow us in, but our activities on the Eastern coast made them determined not to let us out! No fewer than 5 destroyers patrolled the narrow Straits of Dover and we were constantly harassed by Elco boats. Nevertheless, the inclement weather precluded any engagements, and the crew of U-49 finally returned home with no less than ten kills! Our skills are steadily improving and the torpedoes are becoming far more reliable.

At our awards ceremony, I promoted four men, and awarded my Navigation Officer his Iron Cross 2nd Class. Fritz earned his First Class at the same ceremony.

The sight of the base demoralized us slightly, as she had been victim to a dedicated raid by the RAF. Although the sub pens and hospital area were unscathed, the town surrounding the base had been badly damaged. Suzanne spoke of her fear, seated in the air raid shelter, and the anger at seeing the damage.
“I think,” she later said, “I finally understand how you feel in your boat, submerged, waiting for the depth charges to hit.”
A few days after my arrival, two letters arrived that brought the war home for both Suzanne and I. My parents had penned a letter informing me of the bombing of Kiel. The devastation was total, but my parents home had escaped destruction, being so far removed from the city. My father wrote of the sight of the explosions on the horizon as the bombs struck my home town. Suzanne received a letter too, but her family had suffered far more than mine. I arrived at Suzanne’s apartment that evening to take her to dinner and was greeted with the sight of her sitting on the sofa in the lounge. She had not gotten prepared to go out. Her hair was loose, framing her perfect features like a red-gold halo, her eyes brimmed with tears and streaks marred her cheeks. She held a missive in limp hands. She looked at me as I entered the room and a tear ran down her cheek. Without words I sat beside her and lifted the letter out of her gentle hands. Tears came unbidden to my eyes as I read.
Her family home, a home she had grown up in, the home of her family for five generations had been totally obliterated in the raid. The bookstore, part of her family’s heritage was no more, consumed in the fires of the raid. Her parents had no place to live. At the time of the letter, two weeks prior, they had taken shelter in a ‘displaced persons’ camp. Her mother was stricken with grief, her father, whose hand had written the letter, felt she would not last much longer. Her sister was missing, no one had seen her since the raid. She was presumed lost. Many hours later I roused to find Suzanne’s head on my shoulder, a patch on my uniform damp from her tears. I held her hand in mine, her other hand balled into a fist pressed against her stomach. She stirred too and looked into my eyes, into my soul.
“Filthy, disgusting, war!” was all she said, and lowered her head onto my shoulder again. Then and there I knew what had to be done. Gently I stood, and pulled her to her feet. She looked at me confused, and I began leading her out to the door. She protested, she was a mess, she couldn’t face the club, but I pulled her along firmly, a parent with a reluctant child. Fritz was busy in my office when I entered it, updating the manifests and charts, his surprise at seeing me was only outdone by his shock at seeing Suzanne. With a curt nod, I sent him scrambling for coffee, and I seated Suzanne across from me at the desk.
”Why are we here?” She asked, her voice timid, but I gave no answer, I knew she would never agree to what I was about to do, wouldn’t wish the burden on anyone. A phone call to the dispatch center had me routed to Kiel’s base. The line crackled and popped as the duty officer answered. I asked to be routed to the general area dispatch, and a confused officer connected me to Kiel’s local switch. Then I gave the number for my parents home. I glanced at my wall clock, 2 am. Oops.
My father answered the phone, worry etched in his voice. When he heard my voice he immediately asked, “Suzanne?”
“Here with me Papa, I need you to do something for me, for Suzanne.” Her eyes widened as she realized what I was doing.
“Anything.”
“Her family was displaced in the bombing, they need a home…”Suzanne began to rise, her face flushed with anger and embarrassment.
“The homeless shelter?” My father was ever efficient, even at 2 am.
“Ja.”
“It shall be done, tell her…” The phone was ripped from me by the furious storm that was Suzanne. She glared at me as she spoke briskly,
“Pa, it is not…” A pause, she glanced at me, the fury in her eyes dimmed a notch. “But…pa…no…” Her words were as cotton beaten against a rock. “Pa…ja……ja pa…hullo ma….ja…he is….ja…no…” I began to smile. She may have browbeaten me, but she’d never beat my parents combined. I knew that. Finally she handed me the phone.
“Hello Mama. Ja, she is. Furious. You may lose a son in the next few minutes. Ja mama, I can run fast. Thank you. Thank you both.”
I replaced the phone on its cradle, and faced the wrath of Suzanne. It wasn’t all that bad…
Her hands on her hips she glared down at me. Her tiny, beautiful foot tapped a tattoo on the ground as she measured her ire. Her eyes were tiny slits as she regarded me, much as one might if they discovered a stain on a blouse. I stood, hoping the height advantage would serve me somehow in the coming battle. For steady minutes she said not a word. I breathed in to say something, I still can’t remember what, and Suzanne threw her arms around my neck, holding me tightly against her.
“That is the rudest, most obnoxious, noble, beautiful thing anyone has ever done!”
I stood shocked.
“Thank you my love.” She was crying into my chest, her arms around me in an embrace. I found my tears had mingled into her soft hair. I kissed her forehead and looked into her eyes, saying words I never dreamed I’d speak.
“For you, light of my life, anything. Everything.”
We stood like that for long minutes, my mind and my heart reaching decisions I hadn’t even contemplated. Finally I looked into the eyes of the woman I loved and kissed her, her tears and mine salty upon our lips.

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Cap.Palla]

wow....i think i'll print all these words before start reading

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 27 January ’41 – 4 February ‘41

Our patrol out into the deep waters south west of Britain turned out to be a wasted effort. In transit to the patrol station we encountered a C3 cargo ship. Two torpedoes were expended and the ship was destroyed in a standard night approach and lay up.
The crew has become far more effective in their work.
This served to be the only ship we encountered, despite several ‘submerge and search’ techniques. Returning to port I had my sonar man promoted for his extensive work, and noticed an increase in the radio room efficiency level as a result.

I was ordered to the commander’s office the day following my arrival and informed that I had been selected for promotion. He informed me that I would be attending a special ceremony for this promotion, and that I should invite a partner to the event. Naturally I invited Suzanne. Any initial excitement I may have felt was suppressed, as I had been expecting this promotion for some time. Before I left the office that day I instructed our Chief Engineer and the Machinist Officer to begin installation of the newest engines to reach our fleet. Hopefully this extra power will assist us in our surface approach chases.

The promotion ceremony was an extremely grand affair. The Commander of our Flotilla gave an opening speech and invited the guest speaker, none other than Admiral Doenitz himself, to the podium. The Admiral exhorted the importance of effective leadership, and positive approach to both our trade and our men. He looked over the assembled Kaleun’s and told us that each and every one played a vital role in the prosecution of this war.
“The war will end on a clarion note,” he said, “sounded by the battle hardened men of the U-Boot services.”
Politely we clapped, and the awards began. In short order I was called up and presented with my papers and badges of rank. Shortly after, the new Kapitanleutnant gathered a smiling Suzanne in his arms. I smiled down at her and she whispered in a husky voice, “I always thought you looked sexy in dress uniform. But these new stripes make you look…” with a throaty laugh at my blush she left off the sentence, took my hand and walked out of the hall.

The fateful night we had spent together, bringing her family into mine had resolved itself relatively quickly. My father had gone that very day and located her family. Within hours he had arranged them in the house, the whirlwind that were my parents depositing the traumatized family in their homes before they new what had happened to them. By the end of the week, my father and Suzanne’s were fast friends, and the two woman were inseparable. A letter arrived on the day of my return to base. Six pages, three from my parents, three from hers, addressed to both of us in my care. Suzanne and I chuckled through the whole letter, imagining all too well the four of them sitting around the drawing room offering bits of advice for the letter. Then, two days later I received a call in my office.
“Leutnant Linden? This is Peytr, Suzanne’s father.”
“Good morning, sir! What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to offer our thanks for your hospitality son. You are a kind man, and so is your family.”
“In this war sir, we do al we can.”
“You’ve done far more than any other, and for people you’ve never met.”
”I could do no less for your daughter, I admit, she’s stolen my heart quite badly.”
A laugh, “I was phoning to inform you that Suzanne’s sister Claire was found, she had been in hospital, listed as “Unidentified Person”. She is well enough to speak now, she was trapped under rubble from the attack. We’ve both been to see her, the doctors assure us she is going to make a full recovery.”
“Truly joyous news!” I answered, exuberant, this would cheer Suzanne up immensely. Then the thoughts and decisions I had come to slammed the next question into my head, without particular thought I blurted,
“Sir, I must ask this. But…may I have your permission to take your daughter’s hand in marriage?”
A stunned silence on the other end of the poor connection was broken only by the sound of crockery smashing on the office floor. I looked up and noticed Fritz staring at me, oblivious to the coffee cup at his feet.
“We were all expecting that son,” came the reply, a little bemused, “of course you do. I know you’ll watch over her.”
“Thank you sir.”
Putting down the phone I looked up at Fritz. He sat at my desk and clasped his hands.
“Gerhard?” He prompted subtly.
“What?” I couldn’t suppress the grin. My friend’s face split into a similar grin.
“The bachelor party will be epic…”
My grin faded. But, I decided, not until my promotion.
That day I walked into the hospital and took Suzanne aside to give her the news about her sister. She wept with joy and hugged me hard, a few of her nursing colleagues we had gotten to know hugged her in congratulations too. No-one else had been informed of the situation with her family, just her missing sister.

Now, walking hand in hand away from my promotion ceremony I knew it was time to prepare. I looked across at the most incredible woman I had ever met and smiled. She had no idea what was about to hit her.

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 4 March ’41 – 12 March ‘41

“Milk missions.”
“Pardon?” I asked at the muttered phrase from Fritz.
“Milk missions. Go out. See the world. Return with stale milk. That’s what we’re doing Herr Kaleun.” Fritz grumbled as we continued home from a fruitless patrol.
I smiled at my Chief Engineer’s grumpiness, and noted the mirthful chuckles on the bridge. Despite the patrol we still had a good atmosphere on board. ‘Tug Boat Charlie’ had been heard complaining that our reputation was so fearsome many ships refused to sail in terror of meeting us. He despaired of ever firing his beloved ‘Kaleun’s Ire’ again. I doubted that, but it lightened the mood of the men. We pulled into port in the late morning and secured the ship. I entered my commanders office and gave our short report. With a sigh, he told me that various other boats were experiencing the same problems. He invited me to sit, and we spent an hour discussing possible patrol zones. I spoke of my conviction that our best hunting grounds still existed along England’s western coast. He agreed, but pointed out the increased and aggressive defense systems the English had begun using. We were sending our younger commanders into the area and many returned battered and de-moralized. Those who ever returned.
“The problem is,” I began, “that we are sending our inexperienced commanders into the hornets nest. Our best Kaleun’s and boats should be going into those areas. Post the young ones near shipping routes in deep water, or close to the shelf approaches. That way they can gain some experience without risking the heavy destroyers of the coast.”
The commander had no doubt been considering this, a heavy break with established tradition, and had wanted to hear similar thoughts from his more senior Kaleun’s. With a nod he indicated agreement. Then informed me I would be patrolling in close to the coast in my next patrol. Then we spent another hour discussing the new IX class boat that had come into service, and her newer IXC class that would be released shortly. Finally, I broached the subject that I had been pondering since we embarked on the cruise.
“Kommandant… do you perhaps know where I can buy jewelry?” The smirk accompanying the raised eyebrow brought a flush to my face.
“Not for you I assume Gerhard?” He smiled.
“No sir, I have more than enough.” I quipped. He chuckled.
“It so happens one of my yeomen here had family in the jewelers business. Hold on.”
He yelled for his secretary and called for the yeoman to report to him. 5 minutes later the young man was at attention before us. He looked nervous, but he kept his back straight and his eyes fixed on a spot directly above the Commanders head.
”Hans, how’s your family business?” The young man gulped.
“Good thank you sir.”
“You know who this is right?” Was the next question, with a waved hand indicating my general direction. Another gulp.
“Yes sir. This is Kapitanleutnant Linden, Kaleun of U-49. Sir.”
“And he wants to make a purchase.” The mans faced broadened in a smile.
“Of course Kaleun, I would be honored.”
“You won’t overcharge him like you did me now Hans?” And the smile disappeared.
“Err…”
“Go, Hans. You have 10 minutes to get some goods in here, then I send the MP’s to find you.” The man bolted. We chatted for 9 minutes and the flushed man re-appeared. He must have run the entire base and back. I examined the three rings he had brought with him, all meager, small objects, but given the war I was hardly surprised. Then it dawned on me to ask, “How did you know to bring diamond rings?”
The man smiled broadly, “If the Kaleun will forgive me sir…but…well your lady is well regarded at the base.” I eyed him suspiciously. “What I err mean sir…is umm…well it was obvious it was only a matter of time sir…” My eyebrows narrowed and he shut his lips. A chuckle behind me confirmed the commanders mirth. Finally I chose a ring, not for its beauty, but simply because it was the smallest band there. It also managed to hold the most diamonds. A fact I didn’t appreciate until Hans pointed it out. He gave me a price, and I schooled my features to stillness. Almost double what I had expected. A cleared throat from the commander and a stern look from me frightened the poor Seaman into bringing the price down substantially. I nodded, and pulled the wad of notes I had taken from my office safe, from my pocket. Hans made to leave, but I took hold of his shoulder and looked into his brown eyes.
“Now Hans,” I began and the man gulped again, “I would be most displeased to hear that anyone knew about this purchase.” I squeezed his shoulder for emphasis. The gulp was louder.
“Of course Kaleun.” He stuttered, and I nodded. He bolted for the door and I smiled at the Commander. He chuckled as he said, “He’s a good kid. I doubt he’ll mention anything to anyone.”
“He also undercharged me for that ring.” I said worriedly, “I feel quite bad about that.”
“Don’t you worry,” the Commander answered with a wave of his hand, “I pretend not to notice him taking a pinch or two of the coffee from my tea service when he cleans up. He sells it for a pretty penny to the civilians, so he’s more than made his money back!” I chuckled. Then thanked my old friend and commanding officer.

A few days later I celebrated Suzanne’s birthday with her. The morning of the 16th, she walked into work to find her desk covered in flowers. I had pulled a few strings to arrange that when I had chatted with her Assistant Head Nurse. She had agreed to replace Suzanne for the day. I arrived at the hospital shortly after she began her shift and walked into her office to find her staring at the forest of yellow and red blooms.
She smiled broadly as I wished her and gave her a kiss. Then I told her to get her coat, as she and I were going to breakfast. She protested, pointing out her busy schedule, and Lottie, her assistant breezed in and shooed her off, telling her that her birthday present from the staff was a day off. With a suspicious glance at me, she gathered her things and we exited the hospital. The waiting staff car gave her a moments pause, but she and I drove off into the morning. We had discovered a little bluff overlooking the ocean just outside the town of St. Nazaire. The locals often gathered there and over time the town council had placed several stone benches and tables for picnickers. She babbled happily as we made our way to the bench overlooking the bluff, pleasantly surprised by the basket I carried with me. Seating her at the stone table with the best view of the pristine water, I laid out the breakfast. The war had taken it’s toll, though food was hardly scarce, it was hardly the flamboyant affair it had been when we first arrived at St. Nazaire. Nevertheless I had managed to locate a few croissants, a touch of jam and a fine bottle of champagne that I had bullied out of the officer in charge of the base mess. I figured my prestige earned me some leeway!
Suzanne laughed merrily as we ate and chatted, she particularly enjoyed the two champagne flutes I had stowed in the basket, wrapped in several layers of brown paper to keep them safe. Idly she chewed a piece of fruit as she cuddled up with her back resting on me, enjoying the view of a destroyer tacking along the coastline towards the port. Then I asked her to give me a hand cleaning up the breakfast, and she happily obliged, scuttling off to throw away the debris of a picnic in the only, and strategically far away, dirt bin. She returned, and I had the rest of the picnic packed away, and the two glasses of bubbling champagne set on the table. I offered her a glass and suggested we sit on the grass near the edge of the bluff. The wind played across us and lifted the dress she wore to her knees as we sat in the sun chatting on the grass. She looked over the view and smiled up at me.
“The war seems so far away here. Thank you for a wonderful breakfast. It was so romantic!”
“I have my moments,” I grinned.
“That’s why we keep you…” she smiled as she lifted the glass to her lips. My breath caught, and she stopped halfway, looking into the glass. Then her eyes widened as drew the ring from the glass. Her eyes wide with wonder, she turned the ring over and stared at it. Then her eyes met mine, stunned, unsure of what to say.
“Suzanne Wikus. It is my honour and privilege, to ask for your hand in marriage. I’ve loved you since the day I saw you, and I love you still. You echo in my heart, my dreams and my thoughts. Will you marry…” I never finished the rehearsed line, as she dropped her glass and threw her arms around my neck. Her cheek against mine she whispered in my ear, “Yes…yes…yes…you silly sailor! Of course I’ll marry you!”

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt.

[Ducimus]

I admire your literary dedication to produce a more verbose patrol log. I've tried in the past, primarly to excercise my creative writing skills, but man.. it's alot of work.

[Enchanter]

Lol! Thanks! And your'e right it's a lot of work - it's doubled the length of this career - but at the same time it lends a lot of veracity to the career. Now my commander doesn't make stupid decisions that end up getting him killed. Now THAT would make writing a patrol log difficult! :rotfl:

[Jimbuna]

I am really enjoying this sir ...keep up the good work

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 9 April ’41 – 17 April ‘41

Once again U-49 took to the waters close aboard the English western cost. As we established our patrol we happened upon a lone Small merchant. I manned the d/g and had her sunk. Unusually for Kals, he battled to find his range and lead and pumped a full 60 shells at the target before she sank. Later, he and I discussed this, and we determined that to more effective, I should employ his gunnery from inside the 3000m range. I should also attempt to be tacking slowly alongside the target. In future, I shall endeavor to do this, in the hopes of expediting his target termination time.

Then, as we were leaving station we happened across a C3 cargo ship making slow progress. This time I manned battle stations torpedo and had the ship submerged. As with my previous discussion with the battle officers, we prepared to shoot from about 1500m away. The salve shot was chosen and we fired. One torpedo struck the ship, but the second went wide on the aft side. This has led me to conclude that the salvo shot is best reserved for close in attacks, or attacks on tightly reined in ships, i.e. those in convoy.

Finishing our patrol, I stationed our boat on the entrance the Strait’s continental shelf. Here the deeper water would offer protection, as would the distance from any naval bases. Sure enough, three additional ships met our torpedoes. The first of the three, a C2 cargo was also fired on in salvo, testing my theory regarding range versus accuracy. Sure enough, brining the boat within 700m of the target had both shots hit her. She wallowed a while before breaking up, but mostly, I think we’ve proved the timing of the salvo is a relevant point to consider. Our second target, another small merchant was downed with a single shot, and the coastal merchant we encountered on our run home fell to an aft shot. I keep the crew practicing those against the worries we may need to use them to fend off attacking warships one day.

Returning to port early in the morning of the 17 ensured that we could leave ship in the hands of the docking crew and enjoy some rest. That same morning I presented my report to the Commander, concluding that our newly established tactic had been most effective in netting tonnage. He concurred, though both he and I noted the lack of information regarding both convoys and larger ships. We estimate that our tonnage war against the British has resulted in our outstripping their ability to commission ships as quickly as we sink them. This hearkens back to the ‘glory days’ during the First War when the submarine force was destroying 10 commercial ships for every one put to sea.
We would do well to reach such a zenith again, but our job promises to become far harder with the American shipping taking over the bulk of the enemy’s transport.
I feel that we should abandon pretence and sink these ships. With America’s isolationist policy, we could probably cow them into stopping the transports. Without legitimate reason to enter the war, we threaten no territory of theirs, they would be inclined to stop the shipping rather than sacrifice personnel. Nevertheless, the High Command refuse to allow us to engage the Americans, sighting their declaration of war during the First War as a result of the sinking of civilian vessels in international waters as one of their reasons. This, in my opinion serves only to delay the inevitable. When America sees she can gain prestige and advantage from prosecuting the war against us, she will jump in with both feet as it were. Then we shall have to regain all the triumphs we have won with blood, sweat and sacrifice on these waters.

Suzanne hopes that America shan’t enter the war, citing her President’s lack of organized stand, and the lack of international damnation by the beleaguered ‘League of Nation’s”. I believe she chooses not to see the obvious in light of her hope for resolution to this conflict. Roosevelt’s dream of a council of nations protecting each other, and thereby Europe has been discussed often, and his reference to that dream in various speeches to the American people makes his intention clear. War to subdue the strong, and when that has occurred, he shall preside over this council as the strongest of them all. Dreams of grandeur that should frighten us all.

Suzanne and I have heated debates on this subject, often ending in the declaration of one party or the other that we have discussed this long enough. I enjoy these discussions with her, she is a sharp, intellectual woman with diverse and interesting points of view. She announced her intention to enter a study program being offered by the hospital to teach young woman to be doctors. She has been invited to join them, a rare honour. I believe she will outshine any other candidates.

The letter we penned to our parents was a lengthily and excited affair. Finally we settled on the method of explaining it to them. The letter was mailed five days before I left for patrol. Since our arrival back we have heard no reply, but we are certain there shall be one! Suzanne has set the date, 15 November. She wishes a ‘white wedding’ she hopes for snow. We discussed and agreed on a little church here in St. Nazaire, and I have left the remainder of the preparations to her. She twitters like a bird when any mention the ring in her finger. She regales them with the story of the proposal and smiles with pleasure when they gasp over the ring. She radiates joy. I’ve never seen her this animated. During most discussions about the wedding, I’m left saying “Yes dear,” more often than not. She has enlisted the help of the Commanders wife and the two are forever plotting or conniving some or other favor, demand or concession from the Commander himself.
Exhausted, two days ago, the poor man entered the office and glared at me. “I’ve been harried by those two women since you put that damned ring on her finger Kapitanleutnant! I think I should see about having you put in the stockade for harrying a commanding officer!”
Fritz found this extremely amusing. He also relishes the prospect of the various parties he now has a ‘duty’ to organize, and most of all, he looks forward to the experience of being my best man. No doubt, this wedding will be one not soon forgotten by any involved. I welcome all the joy this generates, as if for a brief moment in the grey world of today, we have a burst of colour. Amidst this war, it is all we can hope for, and all of us cling to it for the warmth and comfort it can bring.

Gerhard Linden
U-49 Kapt

[Enchanter]

Personal Diary of Gerhard Linden 15 May ’41 – 22 May ‘41

Once again, U49 takes to the seas to bring glory and honour to the Fatherland!
Ordered to the western coast of the English Isle, my men and I set sail in the late morning after a lengthy and pleasant shore leave.
We knew we were in for an interesting patrol when we spotted our first victim en route to the patrol zone. A small merchant crossed our path in relatively calm waters two days into our patrol. Submerging to periscope depth the crew set about preparing to attack the target.
Our extensive experience was evident as the solution was quickly plotted and a single torpedo fired at the hapless victim from 800 meters. A few seconds later we watched the ship burn and slip beneath the waves. Our patrol had gotten off to a pleasant start.
Not 4 hours later I received a report from my Radioman informing of a ship very near to our location. I quickly turned about and came across the second target of the day. We were in for two very large surprises!

Running on the surface in broad daylight, we soon spotted the target vessel. A look through the ‘scope showed a lovely fat tanker ahead. Rubbing our hands with glee, I ordered an excursion to periscope depth, having elicited that the wind speed was too high for accurate gunnery. As we slipped beneath the waves, I prepared for a submerged attack. Suddenly, I spotted a second ship sailing in the wake of the first! A C2 Cargo had come to join the party.
Long since had the crew and I dispelled the notion that C2’s were our bane. We set about preparing to attack with professionalism and efficiency.
At a dead stop in along our targets projected path, I prepared two torpedoes to magnetically explode beneath the T3 tanker. As she came into our sights, I loosed. The first torpedo ran beneath the target, but failed to detonate. The second however exploded as planned, slowing the vessel. This obviously alerted both ships to the presence of an attacker. They immediately began evasive manoeuvres, but I was pleased to see that the tanker was sluggish. Leaving her be, I turned to get a better position on the C2. That’s when our second surprise appeared.

As I began my attack run I heard the report. “We’ve been spotted, Sir.”
Not overly concerned with this, in such close proximity and with plenty of sea room to manoeuvre, I disregarded the report and continued with my solution. Suddenly the ship rocked and an explosion tore through the hull. Surprised, I called for a damage report as I scanned the horizon for a warship.
There wasn’t one. With growing horror I began to realise that the enemy had begun arming her merchant vessels! I turned full circle and set the periscope back on the C2 just in time to see a shot fired from her aft.
Fortunately, the enemy gunnery has much to be desired, but this new development has me quite worried.
Now forced to be far more circumspect in my attack it took a further two hours to sink both the tanker and the cargo ship, but we managed to do so without much in the way of damage.

Arriving on station, we once again spent an uneventful day searching for vessels. I had been thinking about the situation with the armed cargo ships and had decided on a new course of action. Consequently, our boat will now run submerged during the day, and surfaced at night. So too, our attacks against surface targets with the deck gun will only be prosecuted at night. Kals was decidedly unhappy to hear of this.
“That’s not very sporting of them, is it?” was his only reply to the news that our enemy had just gotten far more aggressive.

Our return home was similarly uneventful, except for a chance sinking of a small merchant. During a particularly horrid storm, I decided to submerge for the day run home. Within in a few hours I received reports of a ship directly ahead of us. I raised the periscope and spotted a small merchant at very close range. Some spur of the moment, manual plotting with the torpedoes resulted in a single hit, and a subsequent kill.

Arriving at base, I informed the Commandant of the newest developments. He seems very concerned about this and issued a warning to be included in all future briefing papers. Hopefully, no brother Kaleun will fall prey to this cowardly response to our naval might!

In other news, the reply to our letter arrived while I was at sea. When I returned home to find my beloved fiancé bustling around her apartment dusting, she threw her arms around me, kissed me then sat me down and read the whole letter, all of five pages, to me word for word. Combined with her chatty commentary on almost every paragraph, this conspired to make the letter a lot longer than would have taken me to read it. But I sat back in the couch, eyes closed as the woman I love sat on my lap and read to me.
Her mother and my mother burst into tears at the announcement, and the fathers immediately began arguing about possible names for their grandsons! They demanded details for the arrangements of their stay here in November. After she had finished reading the letter, she folded it neatly and put it on the table beside the couch. Then, still on my lap, she curled up in my arms and laid her head against my chest.
“Do you think this war will ever end Gerhard?”
“I don’t know lieben. All wars must end. It’s just a question of time.”
“Before our wedding?”
Her voice held such a tremulous whisper of hope. I felt my heart break for her.
“I don’t know Suzanne. I hope so. That would be perfect wouldn’t it?”
“Yes,” she murmured, clearly not convinced.