(Story) U-46 puts to sea again

Good stuff. Love the entries discussing the disposition of the boats.

[Laughing Swordfish]

I slumped onto my bunk, and rubbed my sore eyes, making them worse.

So tired.

I looked across to my fold-down 'desk' and realised with a start that there was a red manilla folder still lying on it. The inked stamp on it - 'U-46: Geheime Befehlung'

Jesus, how long had I left secret patrol orders lying about?

I really must be getting tired.

These need to go back in the safe. I have a small lockable cubby hole for the purpose.

As I returned the orders, my hand brushed against a cloth bag at the back containing some hard object.

Curious and non-plussed for the moment, I pulled it out and opened the bag.

Well blow me, I'd quite forgotten I had one of these!

It was a Luger. A 9mm Parabellum automatic pistol. Parabellum - 'Prepare for War' I thought and smiled. They got that right.

I'd quite forgotten it was there, or in what circumstances I was supposed to use it. Repel boarders, or quell mutinies perhaps? Take a pot shot at a destroyer or jabo even? Or maybe it's supposed to be an easy way out if we're stuck on the bottom or going down and there's no hope? I grimaced.

Whatever, it was no use to anyone now. After at least a year of neglect and exposure to the damp and salt air of a U-boat, it was completely brown and seized up with rust.

I practiced a couple of quick draws in front of my tiny mirror. Hey, this is fun!

Otto, Willi and their Control Room gang were probably surprised, to say the least, to see their Kapitan swagger out of his cabin brandishing a pistol and yelling

"Yeehaw, cowboys, give me a shot of red-eye, bartender, and tell Black Jake I'll see him on the Main Street at High Noon!"

"You ok, Sir?"

"Just messing about Otto. I just found my luger. Look at the state of it. I handed it over to him. Take it up top and have Bruno chuck it over the side."

"Ok, Sir."

He took the pistol but hesitated.

"Sir..?"

"Yes, Otto?"

"I was just thinking, I've got some stuff for removing rust and so on, perhaps we could get it shiny and brand new again. It would certainly give us something to do.....?"

And so it was that the luger spent the next day soaking in a tray of some solvent of Otto's. Word spread and everyone in the wardroom and the CPO's all were clamouring for a bit to clean once we were able to break it down.

In the end when we divided up the disassembled parts, people had to team up and take it in turns to restore their own bit. Competition was fierce and the parts were jealously guarded. I even broke out the box of bullets to give everyone something to clean and polish. There was always someone off-watch diligently rubbing and oiling again and again. None of us really had much experience of small arms, but of course in the spirit of competition we all discovered we were each the absolute experts in the field.

Finally the day came when each gleaming and glistening component part was proudly produced at a ceremony in the Control Room, and Otto solemnly re-assembled the pistol. Everyone had done a fantastic job, and was bursting with pride as their piece was added.
The Luger shone like a mirror. It's action was slick and effortless, it's slight sheen of spotless gunmetal blue.

"Well I suppose we ought to give it a go lads" I suggested, to great cheers.

Over the course of the next day or so and as the situation or duty or weather allowed, every single member of the crew took part in the shooting competition at one time or another.

Any passing enemy plane would have been bemused to see a good proportion of a feared U-boat's crew laughing and abusing each other as one by one, they took turns in blasting away at some apple juice bottles towed 20m off the stern.

To be honest we were all pretty terrible shots, but it was huge fun. And for some of the stokers, it was the first time on deck at sea.

The winner in fact did come from the engine room, much to Otto and Reuben's swelling pride. Young Braun adopted the technique of screwing his eyes shut and squeezing the trigger!

His prize was to be honorary owner of the luger (although it was thoroughly and religiously cleaned afterward -everyone taking their original piece and tutting about the amount of carbon that had built up) and returned to my cabin for safekeeping. Ownership to be contested on our next patrol.

Braun's other reward was to dispose of the array of bottles we had trailing aft, and what better way to do that than get the boat's top marksman to smash them with the AA gun!

Under the intense supervision of Joachim, and Johann, our flakkie, in case he blew our stern off, those bottles disappeared in a great churning shower of spray, and no small expenditure to the Reich!

[Serverdaemon]

Dunno how... But it just keeps getting better!!!


S

[Bluewings]

I just love the way you write

But now that everybody had its fun with the Luger , it must go back where it belongs : on the Cpt. 's hip .

B. Goelf out .

Cheers .

[Laughing Swordfish]

In fact the men did get together and stitch together a rudimentary holster belt and cowbow hat out of some old canvas for me. And I looked quite the part in my checked shirt and Navy oilskin trousers as rodeo chaps.

They're trying to persuade me to wear it all when we come back in and take the salute in St Nazaire.

The Flotilla guys might get the joke, but the Party BigWigs who always congregate for a photo opportunity on these occasions are not known for their sense of humour. And nor, publicly, is Uncle Karl.

As for carrying the luger around with me, I've gone a year without even remembering it's existence, and it would get in the way when moving through the hatches.

Also I have far better ways of dealing with both the enemy and an unruly or wavering crewman.

Plus there are no more bullets left anyway. We really are terrible shots, and used the lot!

In my defence, when I was eliminated, I'm sure Bruno suddenly swung the helm on the Bridge every time I took aim.

Lt de Bunsen, U-46

[bookworm_020]

At leat you have better aim with torps!

:rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl:

[Kpt. Lehmann]

YEEEEEEHAWWWWW!!!!

[Serverdaemon]

BDU to U-46... BDU to U-46...
Request mission update and status...

[Laughing Swordfish]

"We can't send this to BdU, Sir.."

"Why not?"

Viktor sighed. And glanced at his piece of paper

"Because, Sir:

'Where is the Ark R and and where is Auntie B, what are our KM idiots doing about it?'

isn't going to go down too well, I'd guess"

"Nor, Sir, is this doodle of a little Alpine house, and this man and a woman having a picnic with 'Ich liebe Heidi' scrawled underneath. That's hard to translate into morse, Herr Kaleun."

"Give me that here, Viktor! That's just some doodlings and scribbles, the message form is on the reverse side"


"I'll re-write it. Step across the gantry"

" U-46 to BdU. DTG (put in the time and date when you send it, Viktor?)
In patrol box BE as ordered.
U-513 confirmed lost with all hands by enemy air action.
U-100 and U-711 proceeding to designated patrol areas.
Last heards as my previous message.
Two merchants sunk by U-46 of 2,000 and 8,000. Could not ascertain name of ship, or type of cargo due to weather, but laiden and heading NE.
11 torpedoes ready, and all other weapons systems and crew intact
Request new ops area or permission for independent action, to anticipate the big ships. Ours or theirs. U-46"

"Well that's better, Sir,"

"Thanks Viktor, I'm glad my message to the GrossAdmiral has your approval"

I took my cap off and ran my fingers through my hair

Some medicinal rum should have been forthcoming, but of course He had a better supply than me. I'm not supposed to know about it, and they can store stuff in ingenious places.
(I'm thinking now of the time when a depth charge ruptured a couple of pipes in the Control Room, and the hands were incredibly quick to see to it)

(It's a busy time to say the least, when you're being depth charged , and the crew were very conscientious in stemming this particular flow with their mugs)

Only later I learned, that an illicit bag of schnapps had been burst behind one of our air pipes by the Royal Navy. Christian told me much later when he found out himself, after me, him and Otto were busy saving the boat. We had already gone past 220m down.
"Are you annoyed , Sir?"
("Of course I'm annoyed, Number One! Where was our last tot? I had a throat as dry as Rommel's boots!")

Anyway,

"Sit down Viktor. Pour a couple of shots and talk to me"

"This thing about Heidi..."

"Sir, the crew have known for ages; she loves you, and that was obvious to any of us who had to go to Headquarters, the other crews in the Flotilla know too, and they're taking bets on you against that fly boy from Abbeville."

"You're running a book, aren't you, Viktor?"

"Not any more, Sir, the whole of U-46 wants their money on you, I can't place enough of it out with the luftwaffe groundcrews and the army at odds to make a turn"

"Get back to her, Sir"

"By that you mean, don't take any risks with the boat, and get us all back in one piece, isn't that it?"

"That thought hardly crossed my mind, Sir"

The green curtain swayed, and I could catch a glimpse of Viktor's famous paperback collection, rocking back and forth on his shelf.
Most were trashy detective novels to be sure, but I happen to know there were some extremely romantic stories of love in the 18th century that he never lent out.

"We'll all be getting back safely, Viktor, but one thing at a time..."

Lt de Bunsen, U-46

[Kpt. Lehmann]

Mr. De Bunsen... where do we place our bets on the good captain?

[bookworm_020]

My Flack crew are gunning for the captain!!

[Laughing Swordfish]

"They are fast screws, Sir. Someway distant. Bearing North-Northeast about 280 on our port bow."

I grabbed one of his earphones. And listened as Hans rotated his sonar wheel.

He's always right of course. We all in our tasks have to be right all of the time.

"Destroyer, Sir"

"Steer 350, and give me my periscope please, Reuben. Bruno get your bridge watch together, and get some soup down them from the galley, ready to go up in thirty minutes. Rouse Christian and Willi. Don't wake Otto, he's only just got his head down, and ease us up on the dive planes. He's very tetchy if we use up compressed air unless in an emergency.

"In an emergency we're all blowing air out of one valve or another.." Bruno mutttered as he went to rouse his watch.

"Get on with it, Number Two!" I laughed, as the murmured orders in the control room and the gentle tilt and swing of our boat obey my and Reuben's commands.

Back to the Sonar desk.

"I know it's a destroyer, Hans. But only one? Nothing bigger beyond it?"

We had been waiting for more news on linking up with the Bismark.
The reports we received were fragmented. She had clearly come in for a bit of attention after sinking the Hood, and some damage to her oil bunkers were clearly going to curtail a long voyage.

Plus we could make out that she had been attacked by destroyers, cruisers and planes. So the element of surprise perhaps wasn't there, but she'd obviously swatted them all away.

The last we heard was a sustained attack from bi-plane torpedo bombers. One of which may have scored some damage impeding her movement into the shipping lanes.

Ironically, as Joachim pointed out, those torpedo bombers are called swordfishes.

And now we're not receiving anything from our people. I suppose I'm starting to fear the worst. Auntie B has huge guns, but she can't hide as well as we can.

So, while we would always duck away from a destroyer contact, we might be close to a surface battle, or who knows what, and we must close in.

"Twelve metres, Sir! Periscope depth"

"Thank you Reuben"

And I swing my cap round the other way, and take a peek...

Lt de Bunsen, U-46

[Kpt. Lehmann]

.... well tell us what ya see sir!

[bookworm_020]

He's just building the tension...

[Laughing Swordfish]

It took me a while to acquire the destroyer through the scope. It was still a long way off, and although we had set us to converge, we were still in any ASDIC blind spot.

Destroyers don't hang about on their own. It looks like a tribal class, which usually escort capital ships, and are used for fleet actions.

There!

For a second, I'm sure I saw it. A Flat Top!

"Joachim! Christian! Get here and have a squint! It's hard to spot at this range and with the sea, but I think we have a Carrier here on this bearing?"

Christian stared endlessly, rotating the scope in small sweeps, before, swearing in frustration.

"I can't see it, Sir"

"Let me see." Joachim, as our weapons officer is uncanningly good at spotting and recognising enemy warships and planes.

For a long time he was silent, as me and Christian paced behind him.

Eventually he let out a long low whistle.

"Better wake up Otto after all, Sir"

"He's always wanted to sink the Ark Royal".

Lt de Bunsen, U-46