The Prize Rules Ch. 05

He smiled at his first officer and told him to congratulate the gun crew. "It wasn't in pounding seas and nobody was shooting back, but you had six good hits out of six shots with four at the waterline. I can't ask much more than that can I, Helmut?"

He turned to the watch officer then, "Get ready to send an eel out to sink that thing. The last thing we need is for one of our boats to run into it in the middle of the night."

But as it turned out, the old hulk decided to give up the ghost then, since it had been taking on water through the holes which the deck gun had punched into it to add to what it already carried. A piece of the hull plating caved in just under the waterline and the sea began to rush in to claim its long overdue tribute.

By the time that Weisenkopf ordered the periscope up to take a look, the old freighter was settling and beginning to list to one side.

"She's had enough," Ullmann smiled, "I'll give you a shot at a working one sometime soon, alright?"

Seven hours later, they found a destroyer group steaming in large circles as they waited to meet up with a departing convoy headed west.

His very first careful look through the periscope revealed the presence of a couple of minesweepers in with the group.

"A Halcyon class minesweeper and one of those useless Bangor class ones as well. They can't be there to sweep for mines," he said quietly, "not this far out. Maybe they're running short of destroyers," he told himself as a small joke.

With no charges to shepherd for the moment, they all fairly paraded past his periscope. He was very aware that there had to be radar equipment on many of those ships and that at least the outer pickets had theirs up and active at all times, so he kept his observations to very quick peeks.

A minesweeper with the right equipment could certainly be a hazard to a submarine. But a pair of them in with a bunch of destroyers was something of a liability, since they were much slower. So they either did picket duty and the rest ran slower, or they were just other ships which needed defending.

"Well," he thought out loud, "if you're going to dance around with your balls out in the wind, you have to be prepared to have them slapped once in a while."

He called his crew to battle stations and forty-eight minutes later as dusk was coming on, several of the destroyers stood by while the Halcyon class minesweeper foundered and one destroyer's crew was busy with the problem of a badly- leaking propeller shaft seal.

The other minesweeper was nowhere to be seen, but they'd all heard the moaning and screaming of the bulkheads collapsing as a ship sank. Another destroyer waited to take the foundering minesweeper's crew aboard before it sank as well. As they sat submerged at 50 meters below the surface, Hans-Joachim glanced at the men around him in the control room, giving them a few seconds to take it all in.

The radioman leaned out of his nook and looked back. "Multiple propeller noises, Herr Kaleun!

Bearing 045, high rate of turns and coming straight at us!"

Ullmann asked them all what they were waiting for.

"I don't know how many, but we've just killed some men, between sixty and ninety, I'd guess if they managed to take some of the other minesweeper's crew off before it went under.

Do you think that bunch over there will just let us go? I doubt that they'll be very nice about it. We've got three empty tubes and they know that.

What are you waiting for? Get the fucking things reloaded as quickly as you can. I can't fight with only one fish in the forward tubes.

Jump to it and tell the men that I don't want to hear any cheering. We've just done our jobs. Somewhere there are mothers and wives who will be wailing at what we've done in this shitty business and praying that we all end up in Hell. The first man that I hear cheering will have to cheer at every other fucking job that he does on my boat. Go!"

He turned to Weisenkopf, "Both machines ahead flank. Down quick, Helmut! Make your depth 200 meters. Come left fast to 330 degrees and then a slow turn to 240 at one third and we'll see where we end up a little later."

The rest of the destroyers were late in turning to engage him as far as he'd have expected so he guessed that there might be a few learners in with the opposing bunch too and he looked around at some of the men that he knew had only a patrol or three under their belts.

"Come on," he smiled, "cheer up a little. It's a good test for you and also for them. I'll get to see what I've gotten in the latest shipment and together we'll see if they have any wolfhounds among them or if they're all just sheepdogs, no?"

The next four hours were spent down under the waves as he silently stole away from their depth charge attacks.

"They're still throwing them," the watch officer said as they all heard the distant booming.

Hans-Joachim shrugged, "They're still mad at us. They don't know where we are, but they've got to give it a try, no?"

"How did you do that, Herr Kaleun?" the watch officer asked in the control room later, "There were at least four of them using ASDIC trying to find us with their pinging. A fucking symphony from Hell."

"There is a layer of colder water down here, " Ullmann said, "I saw it in the outside temperature guage on the way up. In the right conditions, ASDIC pulses bounce off a false bottom and we are below that. That's why we're not having our fine china plates broken right now.

It's alright if you want to hunt wolves with wolfhounds of your own," he smiled at his men in the control room, "You just need to first make sure that there are no weak sisters in the pack. While that bunch was hanging around taking care of their cripples, we could have sailed right by close in and been in the middle of the freighters if there'd been any to hunt. It's one of the best places to be on a night like this. The tin cans don't often go there. They churn up the water around the outside.

The trick is to get in and then get out again after.

They waited too long to even get mad and begin their own hunt. It's a poor way to play the game. We just have to open up a little more space between us and them before we run off into the forest."

They all smiled and the joke was forgotten as they went back to their quiet disengagement. He had no orders to engage the bunch, not that he needed any, but they were low on fuel and there was no telling how long it would take for the freighters to show up. That eventuality was what he'd been ordered against attempting.

Most of the freighters would be empty for the return trip anyway, so before he'd closed to engage the escorts, he'd sent off a message to BdU command, giving the position clearly and indicating that the warships were there to rendezvous with freighters which had not arrived as yet. He shook his head as he thought of the often-capricious nature of the sea at some times.

The wind was up and the barometer was falling. A storm was in the offing. The tin can destroyers would have their hands full maintaining their positions as they waited for their empty freighters to show up. When the waves rose and the shit from the sky came at them sideways, it would be perfect.

Perfect hunting weather for a lone wolf.

A seldom-seen opportunity to slip in while they all had to hold onto their mugs of tea with both hands. A wonderful chance for a single wolf to surface and rip right through the lot of them before the waves got too high.

Ullmann knew how he'd do it.

He'd plow right on through them, firing all four bow tubes as he went at any targets who were within the right arc and range, and at the same time, he'd let the torpedoes in the aft tubes remind them that chasing him was perhaps not the best idea in a gale.

Radar means little when the sea bashes and throws ships around more violently than their gun stabilisation systems can respond to keep the weapons trained on a target. And there would be plenty of places to hide right under some of the sheep. No surface ship yet had the ability to depth charge a submarine in a hiding place like that.

The ride would be rough and the bilge pumps would be howling to pump out the seawater which drenched the crew topside and tried to fill the boat through the conning tower hatch.

He smiled sadly and shook his head.

And here he was, with less than a thousand kilometers worth of fuel, not enough food to keep them out another week, and not enough metal fish left to make that sort of bold attack.

He went back to his dark thoughts once they were in the clear and two hours later, he looked around at all of the half-dozing heads who now felt safe as they waited for their dinner. He leaned in and whispered to Weisenkopf, "Look at them. Babies sleeping at their mother's breasts, all feeling safe and content, neh?"

Weisenkopf nodded and waited for what he had a feeling that he knew might be coming.

"Bring us to periscope depth and be quiet and gentle about it. No need to wake the infants."

Weisenkopf ordered a gentle ascent at silent running on the motors. A few of the men noticed as he ordered the scope up for a quick look around. It lasted only a moment or two and then the scope was sliding softly back down into it's well. Weisenkopf turned and nodded to the captain.

"E-machines ahead flank!" Hans-Joachim roared just to wake them up.

"Surface the boat when we reach flank speed! Switch to diesels in record time and give me flank speed topside!

I'm tired of creeping around like a dirty old man at the movie theater. I'm feeling homesick and I want to see this thing fly!"

They scrambled to it and moments later, U-161's pointed prow broached the waves as the diesels thundered to life. "Engineering officer, the batteries need charging. Why aren't my engines howling already?"

It was after dark by now and the sleek black shape sliced through the wind-whipped waves. The storm crashed against them and the boat rocked, but she was riding the in the teeth of the wind and if nothing else, Hans-Joachim at least felt a bit better as the ventilators swapped out the stale air and sucked in the cold sea breeze.

He looked around the table an hour later as they ate their evening meal, "What the hell is the matter with you all? We're on the surface, what more do you want? Just hang on to your dinner plates tightly.

By Christ, what kind of sailors are you?

He cut a piece of meat and after putting it into his mouth, he pointed upwards with his fork as he looked around the table.

"This isn't a storm.

This is just the storm gods THINKING about making a storm. You city boys need to learn the difference. It's not all gentle rain on the sidewalk out here where we live.

A U-boat can slip under rough seas, but it's only for a while. Sooner or later, you have to come up to recharge and you might as well give the boat a good run while you're at it. That's when the peaceful ride comes to an end and you become just like the surface navy.

U-boats are long and they're thin like a canoe – a rotten shape to be in bad weather and going slowly." He nodded once, "THAT'S why we're running fast – so that nobody's dinner slides to the floor."

He nodded, "Yes it's a little cool in here now, but at least you can breathe without smelling the next man's stink. What did you think I said? This is us running through the forest. The night is cold out there and the sea is a little rough. So what?

This is sailing boys, and this is the perfect weather to charge our batteries in. You won't find much in the way of bombers out here looking for us tonight. This is when you should feel safe, not looking like you're about to puke your dinner onto the floorplates.

The night's cold but the food's hot and by God, if we keep this up, you can all head for the brothels one night early!"

He got at least a muted cheer out of them for that, but the real purpose had been served. It had been another lesson to them.

"That was nothing back there," he said as a warning, "nothing but a little good luck. One day soon, there won't be a layer to hide under and they'll kick the shit out of us. We'll either live or die, and even I don't know yet which it will be.

For now, we've won one – not that sinking two minesweepers and scratching the belly of a tin can is that big a show, but we won one, so I don't want to look at long faces. Eat your fucking dinners and enjoy the breeze. We'll be back to quiet misery soon enough."

It didn't matter anyway, he thought. From what he could see, the end of the war was just beginning to become a foregone conclusion to his mind. It was all just a matter of time.

Though they'd begun with a huge technological advantage and could operate almost at will in the early days, things were now quite different. He knew that the Allies had radar which was good enough to pick up the extended periscope of a submerged U-boat more times than not.

With great fanfare, Headquarters had proudly displayed their answer to that threat - what came to be known as the Christmas Tree; an ungainly, empty picture frame contraption which surfaced crews were supposed to drag up through the conning tower and position. The purpose was to detect radar pulses, and it worked – until the Allies shifted to a different frequency range for their newer radar sets.

As well, it worked by resonating electronically if there were radar pulses detected, and the Allies then went one better, crafting a receiver which could detect that resonance.

Better still, they could home on it – just what a sub with exhausted batteries needs as it travels on the surface, its diesel engines roaring to recharge the batteries as quickly as possible.

Though many commanders had complained to their headquarters – what came back was that there was no possibility that the Christmas Trees were being detected. All the same, U-boats were being found at impossibly long ranges and sunk. From Ullmann's point of view, the writing was only not quite up on the wall just yet if they were too stupid and stubborn to listen.

And Christmas Tree or not, no one had addressed the issue of only the periscope being detected by radar when it was extended above the waves. It forced him and others to make their submerged attacks from just that much farther away and with the waves washing over the periscope's objective every few seconds.

He held no illusions as to his probable fate one day.

He was putting his boat to a bit of a test and gently pushing his new crew along on the surface miles away from the group, running fast and keeping a wary watch to see if they'd been pursued.

His radioman informed him of an incoming message to their boat specifically. He instructed his 2nd Watch Officer to decode it and was handed the resultant sheet several minutes later.

"I've never seen something like this, Herr Kaleun. 'Commander's Eyes-only' and triple-encoded."

Ullmann nodded his thanks and gave orders that the deck watch keep their eyes open. "Remember that old tub that we shot up today," he yelled up the ladder to the bridge. "Think of us running into something like that because one of the watch got a little saltwater in his eyes."

Ullman went to his cabin, smiling to himself for the luck of having this storm to season his crew with as he decoded the last parts himself.

He was informed that there was an upcoming meeting at Lorient on the 15th and it concerned something which Ullmann knew had been in his future now for more than half a decade.

On his way back, he stopped in to speak to the engineering officer, telling him that he was doing a fine job. "I don't know if it will help," he smiled a little, "but try to get us a little more speed if you can, Martin. We're going home."

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15 January, 1942 – Lorient, Occupied France

As he walked into the conference room, he noted the presence of a couple of other commanders that he knew at least a little. The rest were strangers to him, though he also saw other men there which looked quite out of place. It took him a moment to recognize their uniforms, since they were not military.

After the introductions, they were told that they and their boats were being assigned to a battle group for an upcoming mission.

He learned that there was even a name for it - Operation Neuland (or, New Land), and they were now part of Gruppe Neuland under the command of its Gruppenfeuhrer, Korvettenkapitän Werner Hartenstein, an aggressive and well-respected veteran.

The man nodded as the meeting was turned over to him and he stood up slowly to address them all, "While you have been at sea, most of you, our command launched an exploratory operation known as Drumbeat to test the state of readiness over some of the American eastern seaboard and south of there into the Caribbean Sea.

What we found there was encouraging, though it requires boats having the range to get there, run their patrols to attack the shipping and disperse the antisubmarine assets and then make it back without assistance. All of you command such boats.

This will be far out of the grasp of the Type VIIs, unless we post milk cows all over the place for them to get fuel and torpedoes.

So you will go there instead and tie the enemy into knots, sinking as many ships as you can before your food and torpedoes are exhausted and then you will return here.

There will be six of our Type IX boats and five large submarines of the Italian Navy, all there in that little part of the world. You are to concentrate on petroleum facilities and ore ships there.

What has changed from before is that a few weeks ago, as most of you are undoubtedly aware, the United States finally declared war. It changes things, though not, we think, in the way that they might have foreseen.

Until now, there have been polite assertions of neutrality from them. They have played around with it a little, their patrol aircraft radioing the positions of any of our ships near that part of the world and then their Allied Radio would broadcast those positions in the clear, which is a strange way to assert one's neutrality in what has previously been the southern portion of a declared Pan American neutrality zone.

So long as they claimed to be neutral, we have had to content ourselves to only watch and wait.

So alright, since they wish to play now, we will answer with Operation Neuland and we will take the fight to them for a beginning – right into their cheery little teagardens.

These other gentlemen are all former captains of Hamburg Amerika Line, here to brief those of you who have not had the benefit of much sea time in those waters.

Before we begin their briefings to you, I will say that U-156, U-67, and U-502 will sail more or less loosely together to attack Dutch refinery facilities. U-161 is to patrol around the island of Trinidad. U-129 will follow to capitalize on weaknesses found and U-126 will patrol the Windward Passage between Cuba and Hispaniola.

These are only starting positions, of course. You may find that the promise of other targets pulls you each away a little after your initial attacks. The Italian boats will leave their ports in a few days with orders to patrol the Atlantic side of the Lesser Antilles."

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1942 Trinidad

After the fuss over Eden's arrival back home and with Cora-leen's new employment as a despatch rider, the two old friends found that between them, they had enough to rent a place of their own and still be able to save a lot between them. Life was very good.

Eden was back to being reasonably happy, but for her sometimes wondering thoughts about Hans-Joachim. She knew what it had been between them – or at least, what it should have been. They should have had their fun and parted with maybe only a few tears. It was just the kind of thing that memories were made of – just the kind of thing which a woman holds in her heart and never tells the man that she chooses to make her life with about.