France is Ours (Balz)

[Brag]

Lt. Kalb writes:

28 July 1940
U-123 At sea southwest of England.

After sinking the Nelson, we had a sound contact that indicated a convoy. After a frustrating 24 hours of dashing here and there, Balz gave up. "We will move southeast to here and sink a couple of tankers," he said, tapping the chart with his fingers. That will put us closer to the French coast."

He then turned to Bernard. "Do you know why we move closer to France?"
"To sink French sardine trawlers who are poaching in Spanish waters, Herr Kaleun."
Balz removed his tea cozy with bunny ears and slapped Bernard's head with it. "You dumkopf. The French are now our allies. See, I marked all the French ports in blue. Soon, we will be based in France."

"After I have sunk a sufficient tonnage to bolster my greatness, we will make a triumphal entry suitable to my elevated stature in the Kriegsmarine and we will speak French."
"How do you say U-boat in French?" The navigator asked.
Balz made a sweeping gesture. "Le U-boot." He then swung his arm toward the assembled choir. "Sing le hoochie-woochie."

"Convoy approaching." The soundman interrupted the song.
Balz put the earphones on. "Oh how I love the sweet murmur of approaching screws. In French, Je aime le murmur of le aprochant screws. Crew to les action stations."

An hour later, Balz raised the periscope and quickly lowered it. "Le destroyer anglais is on passant two hundred meters from nous. Maintain le silence.

The destroyer went past us and we were inside the screen.
Balz now wore his attack tea cozy, the black one with a bunny head and crossed bones.

The engine roar of a destroyer accelerating came from behind.
"What le GWX? Crash dive, hard port rudder."
"Wasserbomben."
"Les Wasserbomben." Balz corrected.
"There goes your career," Bernard said, chuckling.
The boat shuddered and lurched, lights flickered. More explosions ejected the boat to the surface, like a harpooned whale.
The bow lowered to an acute angle and we dove like a shark. Passing 20 meters, Balz ordered, "Le silence."
When the destroyer made its next pass we were at 55 meters. The depth charge salvo exploded some distance away.

The destroyer kept banging away in our vicinity while the convoy rumbled past us.

"Un, dieux, le hoochie-woochie," Balz growled. We will attack again after le sunset and will be more proficient with our le Francais.