(Story) U-104

[MantiBrutalis]

So, I got back into Silent Hunter 3 after many, many years. Got myself GWX 3.0 after a few patrols and I loved every bit of it. A week ago, I added h.sie’s V16B1 Realism Patch, because I really liked the ideas, mostly Range Inaccuracy, Torpedo Reloads and the U-tanker mod. In middle of my last patrol I said to myself – Hey, with this much realism and this awesome patrol I got going on, I have a good story on my hands right now. And because I found GWX and V16B1 here at Subsim, I figured I might as well post it, if I’m going to write it down. So here goes…



Note 1 – I don’t know how far will I go with this or when I’ll stop, can happen any time for any reason.

Note 2 – English is not my native language, I’m 21 years old student and I think I often suck at English. So sorry for destroying your language people…

[MantiBrutalis]

Diary of Manfred Bollmann, 26th December 1940, Lorient.

I start this diary this evening, before the 4th Patrol of Type IXB U-104 of the 2nd Flotilla. I start this diary as a radioman of the boat. I start it, because I have nothing to do in free time during our patrols, and this one will be the longest one yet, because we got assigned coordinates somewhere in the Atlantic.

I have to keep faith in our luck, but I worry we might not return from this one. Last patrol has gone very bad, after attacking a convoy off the British coast, we got surprised by a flight of Swordfish bombers. 3 men died, including my dear friend Karl Krieg. Badly damaged, we even hit the sea floor because of the water coming in. We spent an entire day repairing the boat before we could at least get up from the floor and move again. It was a horrible experience and all the crew is shaken.

The 2nd patrol was a bit luckier, we got a few British down, and we head home soon because of the bad weather. And the 1st patrol? That was only a few hours drill off the French coast to test our brand new boat.

Well, that’s all for today, tomorrow we depart early, they wake us up at 7 AM.

[MantiBrutalis]

Diary of Manfred Bollmann, 27th December 1940, U-104, 200km west of Brest.

The Captain woke us up at 5 AM. The few people here, who were with him on his previous ship, the U-1 „Cloverleaf“ from 1st Flotilla, tell us, that it’s in his nature. We were told that he is very eager and doesn’t like to come back from patrol with spare torpedoes. Back in Lorient, they told us (again) the story of Cloverleaf’s demise. How the captain had tried to get to Scapa Flow out of frustration, that they had no luck with finding ships. The Cloverleaf had returned to Helgoland in terrible shape with only 14 survivors and had been ripped of useful equipment and scuttled there. It had only lasted 6 patrols.

We are now going to sail near the Irish coast to pick a few tons of British (if we’re lucky) and then head to our patrol destination. I think I heard the captain say something about grid AK53, but I didn’t see the orders myself.

In the evening, the captain told us all to come up with a name for the U-104 to grant us luck in the Atlantic. I don’t care about the name, but I really hope for some luck with this bloodthirsty captain.



Note 1 – This is turning out to be quite a good English practice for me.

Note 2 – I may have to rush this patrol a bit, because I started writing this when the patrol was at like 10th January 1940. I just don’t want to forget what all happened. I even stopped playing SH3 for a while to catch up with my writing.

Note 3 – You may already guessed it, I don’t have a name for the boat yet. Any ideas?

Note 4 – The part about Cloverleaf is almost true. I had a career with a IIA that had a cloverleaf as an emblem. And yes, I tried to go into Scapa Flow. And yes, it didn’t go that well, but I survived, I had 14 people alive, and I ended the career in German waters with a canoe that barely floated. I just couldn’t take anymore of the IIAs and I got overplayed with VIIBs, so I tried the IXB.

Note 5 – I like to play a little hardcore. I always return back to base, I never load a saved game if I die. I even researched that electric torpedoes couldn’t be placed in external reserves because of maintenance. This means that this story can end anytime, even in patrol 4, because it hasn’t ended yet.

Note 6 – Until now, I had my auto-correct set to Czech, so there may have been some mangled words so far. Usually you can guess what it is supposed to be in English.

[David I]

Mantibrutalis,

Keep them coming!

You English is just fine for the task at hand (even adds a bit of flavor).



David I

[MantiBrutalis]

Diary of Manfred Bollmann, 28th December 1940, U-104, 200km south-east of Ireland.

It’s the second day of our patrol and already we have 2 marks on our sheet. The watchboys spot a large merchant when we were nearing Ireland, and after getting a bit closer, they spot a smaller one ahead of it. Eventually, after getting close enough to recognize the British flags, the captain chose to make a use of our deck gun. From what I heard from down here, I can say that we were the only ones firing – the enemy had no guns. I hope the watch saw it, because if not… then the captain just risked that they were not armed. Anyway, that’s about 7500 tons on our nameless boat.

On the other hand, we didn’t spend that much ammunition, the captain slowed down when we were close enough (I really can’t tell how close), so the gunner could take precise shots. He even instructed the three freshmen, who had joined us in Lorient, to observe and teach them a bit of real shooting. Both ships were probably down before we closed in, at least I think… There seemed to be some kind of ammunition on one of the ships, the fireworks were very loud even down here.

The captain was satisfied, so he ordered to make for the open sea and head directly to our patrol area. Some of the crew expressed the fear of incoming planes to investigate the missing ships, but the captain didn’t even take notice. Guess he had some sixth sense, because we weren’t attacked. Anyway, this is going to take a few more weeks. I hope this soothed his bloodlust – I want to survive. I often think about the dead of the Cloverleaf and of Karl. Even the Cloverleaf wasn’t lucky enough for this captain…

[MantiBrutalis]

Diary of Manfred Bollmann, 31st December 1940, U-104, somewhere in the Atlantic.

Finally we are closing to our patrol area, which hopefully marks the half of our trip. The weather is still very calm, although cold. The days are very short, but it doesn’t make much of a difference down here. Despite great visibility during the short light time we are given, we haven’t met a single ship. Occasionally the captain has a “sense” that something is near, so he takes us under for half an hour, stops the engine… and spends the time asking Max (the hydrophones guys) if he’s sure that nothing’s near.

I spend my free time with our medic, playing cards or listening to his stories from the 1st Flotilla. He is not one of the Cloverleaf’s crew, but he served on two other IIAs. He doesn’t want to talk about his time on the U-14, apparently that boat claimed quite a few lives. Anyway, he got transferred to the 2nd Flotilla, because his proven skills were needed on one of the new “better” U-boats.

The crew is in better shape now, the calm sea and very uneventful patrol took out most of their worries. Just the captain isn’t very happy. He even gave me a “personal” message to BdU, about how they must have left out some contacts in our vicinity and so on. I didn’t send it though – it was quite rude and offensive, and it wouldn’t help anybody either way. Despite his anxiety, he makes a good captain – he reminds us to check the equipment often (mostly the torpedoes), so we should be in a good shape if we meet something.



Note – By this time I probably should state the setting I use on realism. I am too lazy to learn the targeting system entirely, although from time to time I set things myself – for the fun of it. So I am using Automatic Targeting and Weapon Office Assistance (whatever that does). I am using Map Updates (never tried without it) and External Camera, because I love explosions. I use it sparingly though, not to reveal anything I shouldn’t see, so I don’t spoil the fun for myself. Everything else is ticked – 81% Realism.

[spartan21071]

Great post, Great read! Thank you.

[MantiBrutalis]

Diary of Manfred Bollmann, 25th January 1941, U-104 “Lucky Halibut”, somewhere in the Atlantic.

The convoy left with its escort in the morning. The British had kept looking for us through the entire night, but they had begun saving their ammunition after midnight. After noon, the captain decided that we waited long enough, so we checked if there weren’t any strugglers left. Then we’ve set our course to Lorient.

The crew has been quite euphoric since our encounter with the last convoy; we have no torpedoes left, the sea is showing us its increasing strength, so our deck gun isn’t really much help either. This means we are going home. Finally. The only one who isn’t smiling like a child given a bag full of lollipops is our doctor. And nobody blames him – one of the burned guys from Sharkfin is getting worse by the minute. That is also why we’re racing back to France like there’s no tomorrow. There could be no tomorrow for the poor lad, if he doesn’t get proper hospital attention soon. We should get to Lorient in a few days if we maintain this pace.

[RustySubmarine]

Hope you make it back safely and the badly burned crew member lives to tell his story.

[MantiBrutalis]

Diary of Manfred Bollmann, 29th January 1941, U-104 “Lucky Halibut”, just off the French coast.

The sea got really harsh today, waves are toying with our little boat like it doesn’t weight a thousand tons. Does it matter? No! The watchboys can just about see the coast from here, but we have to wait for an escort boat to guide us around a newly laid minefield. According to the boys up the tower, there’s no snow that they can see. Does that matter? No! We’re finally coming back to experience solid land after a month in the Atlantic.

The crew suppressed their eagerness for now, because the one that really needs to get back to the dock is the wounded Sharkfin’s lad. Hopefully they can fix him in the Lorient hospital. Hopefully they’ll take their time fixing the Lucky Halibut, none of us wants to go back to action any time soon.

Land. Alcohol. Women. Shower, bed. I can almost smell these things from here.

[MantiBrutalis]

~~~Not part of the story~~~

Coming soon:

Patrol 5 of the U-104 "Lucky Halibut", 2nd Flotilla based in Lorient.



What to expect: (Nothing set in stone, things may change)

Changes to game settings:
My last save is from 26th March 2013. My game changed in a few ways, the biggest change being the addition of SH3 Commander. I remember tweaking some config files and adding some cargo types to SH3 Commander, but it is a long time, I can't remember everything and the config changes were rather small. So I will not look up and post what changed. Deal with it.

Changes to realism:
I learned quite a bit of manual targetting, which means I will get close to 100% Realism. I will not use No Map Updates, usually when I try this, I ram ships when exiting my own port. Also, I will probably leave the Event Camera on, I just love it too much and it can help me polishing my manual targetting skills. Before, I named the Event Camera the "External Camera". Sorry for confusing you, the "Free Roam OP God Camera" was never on, I meant the camera which follows your eels around and stuff. Event Camera will probably stay. Deal with it.

Changes to crew:
To keep things "real", I will transfer out many seasoned sailors to training, their experience is needed to help greenhorns survive their first patrols. Luckily enough, the men I picked to tell this story aren't that experienced yet, and most (if not all) of the men you came to know will stay a little longer.




What may or may not come:

Experimentation in storytelling:
I have quite a few ideas on how to spice things up with telling the story from different points of view, but I will not spoil you just yet. Work in progress. I will not (at least now) picture lives of sailors while in port, I feel my knowledge of the topic is inadequate for the job.

More depth:
I spent some time studying the life and functioning of a U-boat, so I may add some more precise stuff as I learn more. I will not change (at least for now) the historical mistakes already written in the story so far.

Editing:
There has been some editing going on for some time now, and I will continue to correct misspells and spacing problems. I will not change any part of the story, I will just repair the damage my poor English has already done. I may or may not sit down with a friend to go through the entire story to check the grammar. Probably not. Who likes having their mistakes pointed out? Not me. Deal with it.

Keyboard destruction:
Hey there, let's change "shooting" to "shodni", I am a Czech computer and I don't care if you're trying to write in English or Chinese. I am going to randomly switch auto-correct to Czech, even if you disable the function million times over. Also, whenever you try to insert an apostrophe in any other style than copy-paste, I am going to underline the entire sentence with a red wave to remind you of how stupid it is to use a Czech installation of MS Office to write an English story! Yaaaay!

[Navy_Mech2]

Awesome story! I spent 40min on the toilet at work this morning reading the whole thread! This is darn near tom Clancy material

[MantiBrutalis]

As experienced by captain Georg Braun, 28th February 1941, 21:03, U-104 “Lucky Halibut”, 220km northwest of Vigo.

“Current depth 25.”
“All stop. Hear anything?” I look for Max at the hydrophones.
“Nothing, sir.”
“We’ll wait. They should be here any minute.”

Minute. Two. Three.
I hear Jürgen walking around the control room, calming down the rookies: “Keep your mouth shut, eyes on your work. You’re safe now. If you want to remain safe, do exactly what I tell you to do.”
Rookies. Scared even when there is nothing out there. I scratch my chin. They should be here, we are exactly where we need to be. Another few minutes pass by.

“Max?”
“Nothing,” he replies.
Maybe we aren’t where we need to be. I go back to our notes, check the calculations, but nothing new comes up – we did these calculations like never before. They should be right here, right now.

“Max?”
“Still nothing, sir.”
“Dammit. Well, we will wait here for at least an hour, maybe they slo-“ Ping! Ping! Ping!
Surprise, fear and panic overwhelm my mind for a fraction of a second, then my brain starts working again: “Ahead flank! Dive!” “Sound contact! 20 degrees, closing fast!” “Don’t panic! Keep doing your work!” “What? How?!” “All men forward! Where the hell are you?!” And all the time, the loud pinging reminds us that death is coming for us.

Every men in the U-boat looks at exactly the same time upwards. The pinging stopped, only to be replaced by the screws of a passing ship.
“Hard to starboard!”
We can hear depth charges entering our underwater world. Then – Bam! Bam! Bam!

[MantiBrutalis]

As experienced by Herbert Krauss, 28th February 1941, 21:41, U-104 “Lucky Halibut”, 220km northwest of Vigo.

“The ship is leaving north,” Max whispers.

Finally it ended. The enemy didn’t waste too much depth charges – the first 15, which were close, but not really on the mark. And then the other few just minutes ago, as their sonar showed something which wasn’t there, pretty far away from us. But beside the first attack, there were no pings. Maybe their sonar broke or something. I don’t know, I don’t care. We all now wait for the next explosion – the captain’s face was getting darker and darker since the surprise, and we know what is going to happen. He is going to get very angry at somebody. And… here we go…

“What the hell was that, Max!! Before we dived there was nothing miles around!! How comes that minutes later, a destroyer falls from the sky right in front of us!! Explain!”
“I-I-I don’t know, s-sir. I just didn’t hear it,” poor Max replies. There is a feeling within me that I should defend my comrade. But he did nearly kill us all.
“I figured you didn’t hear it! But how?! It was right in front of us and it had to be doing God’s speed to be at us that fast!”
“I don’t know, sir. I don’t know.”
“Dammit, man. You nearly killed us!”
“I am sorry, sir.”
“Sure you are!!”
The first watch officer interrupts the fight: “Captain, what now?”
The captain calms down a bit, and with a lot of focus, you could manage to detect a faint smile on his face: “They let us live. Let’s catch up and repay the favor.”

[MantiBrutalis]

Diary of Manfred Bollmann, 28th February 1941, 23:17, U-104 “Lucky Halibut”, 220km west of El Ferrol.

We picked up a message from BdU about a single ship trailing close to us. Captain decided to intercept it, just to reveal that this single ship has its own destroyer escort. Anyway, the first attack failed miserably – we fired four torpedoes, but none hit the destroyer. The captain claims two of them were duds. Two hours later we tried to reengage, but we were surprised by the escort, which kept hunting us for half an hour. Luckily for us, these men seemed to have little experience with their anti-submarine equipment. Anyone more experienced would send us to the bottom of the ocean.

There was a fight between the captain and Max, but I didn’t hear it as I was helping to secure food which escaped from its net and spilled on the bow torpedo room floor. Anyway, we are hunting this odd pair again. I hope for more luck with torpedoes for the Lucky Halibut.



Note – I repaired some spacing problems and punctuation throughout the story. I also changed “feint” to “faint” on several occasions. Educational gaps everywhere