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Patrol 1
U-31
2/9/1939 Set out from Wilhelmshaven heading to AM23 along Norwegian coast, sighting 2 neutral ships, weather conditions perfect. Reached north of Scotland sighting small trawler 98 tons at AN12 sunk by deck gun followed by coastal freight 1871 tons grid AN13. Sighted 2 destroyers with what appeared to be a large battleship far off in the distance... submerged and waited for the all clear. Weather has turned choppy as we reached patrol grid, no contacts during 24hours, headed south to patrol SC convoy route, patrolled for 3 days in search pattern making a couple of contacts in rough seas.... unable to pursue effectively. Decide to hunt east coast UK hoping for calmer seas. Intercept ship north of Scotland 4000 ton ship, but due to either dud torpedoes or incorrect target solution, failed to connect with 4 torps (3rd & 4th fired in sheer frustration to score some tonnage)..... gave up pursuit. Made way down the coast heading for Blyth harbour looking for cheap targets, heavy rain at night allowed me to get 3.5km from dockside, submerged and waited for weather to clear, which never did rain persisted so fired in the dark at stationary targets somehow registering on hydrophones including a warship spotted 600m to our starboard.... Impact with magnetic on warship but failed to sink even after another hit. Made way further down coast further offshore intercepting small freighter and scoring direct hit with last torpedo, followed for 90 mins failed to sink unable to use deck gun due to bad weather. Spent 4 days waiting for deck gun weather and finally admitted defeat, heading home. Returned: 12/10/1939 Abysmal patrol, better look next time! |
Patrol 2
U-31 VIIB
Just made my longest shot of 7900 mts during early hours of the morning, released 2 fish, time till impact 9:09 minutes one....... 4 minutes into the torpedo run lights were observed on ship, 1 hit and turned out to be neutral for 5000 tons! Still im happy with the shot using the RAOB attack discs :smug: |
Patrol 2
U-31, VIIB U-Flotilla Saltzwedel
Left at: October 21, 1939, 19:12 From: Wilhelmshaven Mission Orders: Patrol grid AN13 Ship sunk!|Grid AN 59|Coastal Freighter, 1869 tons Ship sunk!|Grid AN 58|Coastal Freighter, 1870 tons Ship sunk!|Grid AN 52|Pelagic Trawler, 888 tons Ship sunk!|Grid AN 52|Coastal Tanker, 961 tons Ship sunk!|Grid AN 52|Passenger/Cargo, 1870 tons Ship sunk!|Grid AN 47|Medium Cargo, 5076 tons Neutral ship incident caused by morning light obscuring visibility of ships lights at long range, no action taken by BDU. Ship sunk!|Grid AN 13|Granville-type Freighter, 4710 tons Ship sunk!|Grid AN 13|Large Merchant, 10200 tons Ship sunk!|Grid AM 36|Large Merchant, 10201 tons Patrol results|Crew losses: 0|Ships sunk: 9|Aircraft destroyed: 0|Patrol tonnage: 37645 tons Patrol went without any major event. Good weather throughout patrol until return passage through north sea. Six 8.8 cm deck gun rounds remaining 0 bow torpedoes 3 stern remaining. Promotion to Oberleutnant z.s. 3 crew promotions + U-Boat war medals and one iron cross 2nd class to be issued out. Returned November 9th 1939 |
Patrol 3
U-31, U-Flotilla Saltzwedel
Left at: November 23, 1939, 00:10 From: Wilhelmshaven Mission Orders: Patrol grid BF47 Ship sunk!|Grid AM 1|Large Merchant, 10863 tons Ship sunk!|Grid AM 42|Small Freighter, 2220 tons Ship sunk!|Grid BF 47|Coastal Freighter, 1872 tons Ship sunk!|Grid BF 47|Large Merchant, 10864 tons Ship sunk!|Grid BE 39|Medium Tanker, 7286 tons Ship sunk!|Grid AM 1|Medium Cargo, 4476 tons Ship sunk!|Grid AN 56|Small Merchant, 1844 tons Ship sunk!|Grid AN 56|Small Freighter, 2221 tons Ship sunk!|Grid AN 47|Passenger/Cargo, 2439 tons 2 Stern Torpedoes remaining and 2 8.8 cm shells Patrol results|Crew losses: 0|Ships sunk: 9|Aircraft destroyed: 0|Patrol tonnage: 44085 tons Returned: 1/22/1940 |
U-53
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The story begins with our intrepid underwater heroes in probably the most dire of all states as they've ever been in.
Our 14th patrol had been cut short for reasons of severe battle damage... A faulty repair on the port-side rudder had caused some steering problems, making the helmsmen work harder to stay on course. As a result of that, we stumbled across a moderately guarded small convoy. Two corvettes and two Hunt I destroyers, with 1 Clemson class destroyer on sweep patrol (must have been the training fleet!). Also, a few of the cargo ships were sailing in differing directions, and kept falling out of line. Puzzled, I had my radio officer check into the surface frequency. His english language skills are above average, and through him we were able to learn that the Clemson's Asdic was not working. Plus one for me, I thought. Also that some of the ships had suffered damage on the trip over in a bad NA storm, and that was why they kept steering in funny directions, it wasn't intentional. Another plus one for me. The first shot hit a corvette coming up the port flank. Had to wait for the calm to return before turning my attention to the convoy. Two shots on a troop ship, 1 on a small merchant and one on a tanker. All hits, although there was some time passed between the sinking of the small merch and the sinking of the tanker. I got to play with the escorts in the meantime, but their general inexperience and faulty equipment kept us from serious harm. Through our radio officer, we learned the name of our feared underwater weapon. They called it "the hedgehog" I thought "porcupine", either way... We sank the second corvette with our tube 6 loaded seeker, as he was making an attack run on our bold canister, it ran up and blew the rudder and props off, causing it to slowly but deliberately tilt downwards.... The shame of the attack was the Clemson (which also took a torpedo from us) managed to score several close calls. Not enough to bust the pressure hull, but enough to destroy our port rudder and jam our diveplanes. Not too serious yet, as long as we don't need to change depth. One of the two remaining Hunt destroyers came up to assist, further seeding the area with charges. A lucky hit near to the forward end damaged the outer bow caps on all four tubes, the worst was that the shockwave blew all four inner doors off the tubes, thus letting in a steady flow of water... Damage control parties getting to work trying to repair 4 bow tubes as water gushes in, it's almost impossible, but somehow they work. U-802 has now more ballast forward of the control room, with water, men and tools, but this kind of damage must be repaired... I check the manometer, depth now 90m and still descending. All ahead slow, in fact, forget that order, all ahead 1 knot. Bad situation captain. Another depth charge near to the boat causing a severe pitching. The battery bilge is open for damage control in a previous attack. I had the forward bulkhead between the crew/torpedo section closed to contain the flooding, but the water is starting to advance anyway. Then another explosion causes the lights to flicker and the boat to pitch hard to the right. I look through the control room hatch (still open) into the officer's section, in time to see my framed photograph of me with the Admiral, at my Knight's cross award ceremony, fall off the hook and hit the floor, where the glass shatters, spilling my photo out, and down into the battery bilge, where the escaped acids from some of the damaged cells quickly go to work, destroying a fond memory. "There, you see! This is why I can't have nice things!" I blurt out to the surprise of the control room crew. "Sir?" "New depth 120m". Still at one knot, crew working forward have repaired the battery and power is flowing better now, but the crew hatch is still sealed and we (presume) that they are still working on fixing the inner tube hatches. The downward tilt is about 35 degrees and we are now at 150m and still descending. Soon, the creaking in the beams, sort of like satan's fingernails down a blackboard...sets all our teeth on edge... Blow ballast!, get us back up. The hydroplanes are out of action, too much water and other ballast forward, one knot and getting deeper, the emergency lights click on after a few minutes of darkness...water, running, dripping, splishing, splashing... we are so screwed. Blow ballast!! "I am blowing sir, look!" The compressed air gauge is running down at a frightening rate and it doesn't seem to be having the smallest effect... "Both engines full speed, reverse" I order the engineer, in what I hoped was a calm sounding voice. "Both engines full speed, reverse" He quickly, too quickly, repeats. "Continue blowing ballast but watch our depth, we are only going to get one shot at this". Very soon the bow compartment is clear, the crew has managed to restore all four inner caps and the water is being drained into the bilge for pumping out. Now that the are not needed forward, I order excess crew around to redistribute the balance. To calm myself, I close my eyes and try to picture what it looks like outside the boat. Put myself in tune with the machine and the water to feel if my tactic is having any effect. No doubt the crew probably thought I was panicking, but whatever, I could sense it! We are rising! I open my eyes and see the depth guage now says "80m" "75"..."70"..."65"... Whoa, better slow down, I don't want to breach the surface ass first! We managed to get away from the convoy, with hardly any escorts left, the two Hunt destroyers had more important work than killing a U boat. They could hear the underwater calamity and probably assumed it was the pressure, crushing our hull. Unfortunately, with our damaged hydroplanes we could not get above 89 meters. I had slowed our ascent, but we sank back down into the deeps again before I could level off. We managed to do so about 80-odd meters, but without functioning dive planes, and about as much compressed air as to blow out a candle, we were stuck. Then came our second stroke of brilliance. I had all the crew pile into the aft sections to over come our trim through sheer manpower alone. Gradually, by 1 meter per minute, we managed to ever slowly inch our way back to the surface, and to fresh air. U-802 made it back to the world above, but our patrol was over. With no dive planes and a left rudder destroyed, our boat was helpless. We could only make left hand turns by differential thrust. By underpowering the port engine and over powering the the starboard one, along with the remaining rudder hard over, was the way we turned back to base. Stuck on the surface. Lucky was the U-802 when it showed up in Lorient about 8 days later, along the way having shot down no less than 18 short sunderlands. Put yourself in that situation, no diving, can barely turn, AA ammo running low, airplanes all over... Somehow, through it all, the pressure hull maintained integrity, it was our exterior surfaces that took the kicking. Patrol 15 begins in Feb. of 1944... |
U-45 is now U-101, as the Kriegsmarine decided the Kaleun was deserving of a new boat. We now sail in an IX(B), one of Germany's newer wondrous submarine technologies. The Kaleun requested the enlarged conning tower to hold two flak guns. Not realizing it at the time, this was quite a prescient choice.
The new boat was ready in late October, 1941. U-101 was commanded to sail to a region a few zones West of the straight of Gibraltar. She sailed there without incident, aside from a few Spanish ships traversing the area. When the patrol zone was reached, the navigation pattern was drawn up and U-101 set to it, intermittently diving for hydrophone listens for long distance contacts. Nothing. Drills commenced to alleviate boredom and confirm the seaworthiness of the U-101. Diving felt a bit slower, but the additional 6 torpedoes in the external bays are sure to come in handy. The Kaleun radioed HQ in a request to find more favorable waters. HQ confirmed and directed U-101 closer to the strait. We set patrols in the deeper waters that fed into the Strait, taking care to stay away from the dangerous bottleneck that the actual Strait is. We have seen a lot of traffic feeding into the strait in prior months and hoped it would be the same. There would be plenty. Initial contacts were a few unescorted merchants, plodding along with seemingly little regard for submarines. The first, an MX10b(?), went to the bottom quickly and without struggle. The second, a medium merchant, also ate its fish without an argument. However, the crew was able to send a distress call and the first of many run ins with the RAF occurred within 20 minutes of sinking. Fortunately, the RAF encounter was a pair of Hurricanes who only strafed the tower with their machine guns on their initial pass. Before they could turn and reorient themselves, the crash dive had taken U-101 deep enough to avoid reproach. Bombs were heard on the surface, too far to make a difference. Perhaps the pilots were rookies, or perhaps they had hoped to deal with any flak gunners in their initial pass, but the decision to hold their bombs saved the U-101 a great deal of trouble. :doh: The hurricanes would prove to be only the first of a number of sorties during the next few days. The boat performed admirably, with crash dives taking the boat out of danger each time. Kingfishers, hurricanes, catalinas - all were seen during the patrol, and fortunately, avoided. A few days later, a contact report flagged an enemy convoy coming out of the straight with an easy intercept to boot! U-101 was moved into position at periscope depth and waited. *Warship, bearing 87! Closing!" was the report from the man on the hydrophone. Then, other reports, at least 20 merchants. The Kaleun waited a bit longer, then extended the periscope to take a look in the wee morning hours. A large convoy was poised to trail in front of her forward tubes, with the destroyer escort zigzagging along in front. The boat was silent except for sounds of the ocean around us and the statistics being communicated to the weapons officer. Two salvos were prepped, one for an ore carrier, and one for a far off empire freighter. When they were plotted, both salves were fired with minimal spreads. Once the fish had swum, the U-101 promptly turned 180 degrees to fire her rear tubes and then make her escape. The initial salvos now struck home, causing the convoy to begin its haphazard zigzagging. Two electric eels in the rear were fitted with magnetic contacts, shallow drag, and sent on a course towards to nearest merchant (MX10?) as it turned to face towards the U-101. My hope was that the proximity detonation caused by the magnetic pistons would be useful in near misses that ran along the hull of a boat. Once those eels had left, we crash dove to 180m and began our slow, silent exit. Another explosion sounded, followed by secondary explosions. Then the pings started. U-101 jockeyed with two destroyers for the following hour, with hard 90 degree turns when the boats passed overhead, then returning to slow moving and gentle turns. A few charges were enough to shake the ship, but no external damage was done and eventually we slipped away. Following these successes (and few torpedoes), the U-101 decided to return home. We made for the Spanish coast and then sailed back to Lorient, hoping that the RAF patrols would lack areas to launch from in the neutral country. Our maneuver at least showed a correlation between these things, as the air attacks dropped off significantly and a safe voyage brought us home. *One of the magnetic torpedoes had managed a hit on what appeared to be a munitions carrier, as the merchant broke apart quickly and violently. The ore carrier had eaten two eels and began to sink. The salvo intended for the empire freighter had been cut off by a smaller boat in an earlier convoy line! One of these torpedos went off, the other was unaccounted for (dud/miss?) * |
I am going to keep this short, this time, except to say that Patrols 15 and 16 were both duds.
The term "Auf Knieschreiben und brustwarzen zurück kriechen" is becoming all to familiar. We suspect that the diesels were not properly repaired when we were drydocked in Lorient. The boys and I are suspecting French sabotage. In any case, we have requested and been approved for transfer to the 11th flotilla out of Bergen, Norway, where patrol #17 begins. U-802 is becoming the bad luck boat. No more crew being killed, not since patrol 3 or 4, just, an inability to reach the operational area before serious battle damage (often scored through a lucky hit), has forced us back to base for repairs. Maybe the change of scenery will do us good... |
FEB/40: Barking the Outer Hebrides en route to Wilhelmshaven via N. ZEE. BdU advised heavy enemy traffic in Channel so opt for safe route home; Air-cover is moderate; bagged last freighter out of Liverpool 6000 tons; Total: 7 sunk/ 46,000 tons-all at night- 3-surface 4-submerged. Problems with duds- three eels left 2 eto/1 ato. Used deck gun on second sinking after rear tube eel was dud-70 rounds expended. No repairs or damage.:Kaleun_Binocular:
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U-53
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Really enjoying the game. Had a couple of crew either offed by partisans or arrested for drunkenness. Just an incredibly immersive game. I still haven't gone to manual torpedo calculations, but fun just the same. Currently sniping a large convoy in a IXB.
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U-53
It's a long one!
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U-53
Short and sweet...
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June 5, 1942
Two days into the first partrol of U-465. We set sail from Norway on the 4th, orders to patrol the Iceland-England gap. Shortly after arriving in our AO, we got a report of a large convoy heading south towards Scapa Flow. We changed course to intercept; Estimated intercept is 15:45 Hrs. Approximately 3000m off the predicted course, we went to periscope depth and waited. After waiting about an hour, our sonarman notified us of approaching sound contacts. He identified multiple merchants and a few escorts at which point I directed our weapons officer to raise attack scope. I scanned the horizon and saw approximately 20 plumes of smoke from the merchants, the nearest of which appeared to be aflame. I saw the lead escort, a V&W class on a course of about 180 that would take it past us at an estimated 6000m. Once the lead escort passed, I chose my targets and set up for an attack. The first target was to be a large merchant, calculated to be at a range of 4500m on a course of 170. Due to moderate seas, we set depth of our two loaded Type 1s to 4m, pistols set for impact. Tube doors were opened and two torps were let loose set for minimum spread. The second target was identified as a medium merchant. We set one TIII for impact detonation at a depth of 4m and let it loose. The third target was a second V&W class at approximately 2500m tracking 185. Our last bow tube containing a TIII was set for magnetic detonation, depth 3m and let loose; timed so it should detonate at the same time as the first two torps. All torpedoes were running hot, straight, and normal according to our sonarman and stopwatches were set as we set course to 270, depth 40m so we could withdraw to shadow the convoy and reload bow tubes. After five minutes, the boat fell completely silent. The only noise coming from the heavy breathing of the crew in anticipation of the telltale *thud* from the torpedoes detonating. Time slowed down as we hit the eight minute mark. My weapons officer leaned over to me and said "they should have hit by now". I told him to wait and that our watches could be off. After ten minutes, we still heard nothing. At that point, our sonarman called me back to his station. "Sir, screws increasing in speed, I think they saw the torpedos." I cursed under my breath and told him to monitor the escorts. After fifteen minutes we heard the telltale thud of the torpedos detonating. But it didn't sound like it should have. There was no secondary explosions, nor screeching of metal. Our torpedos completely missed and the thud we heard was them detonating after running out of fuel. Everyone looked at one another, some of them cursing the torpedoes, others questioning if they did anything wrong while setting up the torpedos for attack. Before we could start assessing what went wrong, we heard the telltale *ping* of the escort's sonar. I ordered our depth 90m and hoped that the escorts would not find us. After 5 agonizing minutes, we heard one of the escorts hit home. We were being pinged and our sonarman told us that he was approaching fast. We changed course to 300 in hopes that, if he was setting up for a run, he would miss. We heard the escort go right over us and heard the *plop* of charges being dropped. "hold fast men!" I said, "These will be close!" And boy, were they close. The first charge detonated off our port side, rocking the boat violently. Valves burst open from the pressure and the lights flickered. The second charge burst off of our starboard side, shattering lights and throwing everyone off of their feet. We heard the third charge bounce off of the top of our boat and roll down the side. "My god this is it" my helmsman muttered. The third charge never went off and we breathed a sigh of relief. While the escort was setting up for another run, I called for a damage report, and change of course to 195, hoping to keep us in the escorts baffles. The damage report came back and was better than I expected. We had minor damage to the fore batteries; leaking water was shorting out one of the banks, and my electricians were fast at work to fix it. The Bow torpedo tube seals were leaking as well and were being worked on. My sonarman quietly called out "two more escorts closing fast!" "Hold on boys, this is going to be a rough ride" I said to my crew. The two escorts crossed over us and dropped their charges. These had to be experienced crews, because those two runs almost did us in. My navigator was thrown up against a bulkhead, knocking him out cold, several other crew members were also severely injured. Damage reports came in from all over our boat. Port electric engine was out of action, our diesels were knocked off of their mounts, port and starboard driveshaft seals were leaking badly, aft battery bank was knocked out and was leaking acid, aft dive planes were jammed, flooding reported in bow torpedo room and crew quarters, aft battery room and engine room. Two of our torpedos were knocked loose from their storage and crushed the legs of one of my torpedo men. We started to lose depth control and began to sink. As my crew worked feverishly to control the flooding and regain depth control, I watched the depth gauge plummet. 100m, 125m, 180m, 200m; It seemed as if this would be the end. Creaking and groaning of steel began to fill the air as we hit 230m. I ordered to blow ballast. Our boat kept sinking. "Blow ballast!" I shouted again. We kept filling the tanks with air until the pressure gauge was in the red. After what seemed like an eternity, we started to rise after hitting 300m. I told our sonarman to find those escorts. Amazingly, our hydrophone was still working and he reported that the escorts were moving away, back towards the convoy! We managed to slow our ascent and leveled off at 50m, waiting for the convoy to move out of range, hoping that all three escorts went with them. I ordered periscope depth, and we hobbled our way there only to find that both attack and observations scopes were flooded. I took the gamble and ordered to surface. The horizon was clear and we began to assess the external damage. Our boat looked like a VW in a hailstorm with all of the crumpled metal. Our deck gun was hanging off of it's mount and our AA gun was gone. We managed to get the batteries working enough for some slow maneuvering and signaled an SOS. After 20 hours of working to restore what systems remained to operational status, we were met by U-451 and were towed back to home waters. Upon arrival at base, the dock crews stared in awe of the damage we sustained and were seen muttering among themselves and pointing. Our boat was scrapped and I was summoned to the admirals quarters for the whipping of a lifetime. *Moral of the story, this game can really be cruel for a new crew and always leaves me coming back for more! Nothing is better than a game that provides great suspense and the ability for the player to use his/her imagination! |
Encounter'd six vessel convoy/w 3 escorts-all destroyers. Sank four incl one tanker. Two dud eels. Just off continental shelf of NW Ireland. Heavy Sunderland air-cover and destroyer escorts are alert. Shifting to S. of Ireland through Irish Sea West of Isle of Man for reported convoy traffic. Six eels left. No damage.
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U-221
Happy times indeed! Our first patrol in a new VIIC.
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U 802 encountered an American task force consisting of 1 'casablanca' escort carrier and 4 'buckley' destroyer escorts, just south of Iceland.
Two DE broke off from the carrier to intercept U 802 and with 2 lucky shots, we sunk both. Broke the surface to take up pursuit, and one of the remaining DE picked us up on radar and turned back to engage. Quickly dove to PD again and fired a shot from tube 3, which missed. But the escort made a fatal mistake as he was passing on our port side which put him directly in line with our only seeking torpedo. 3 escorts down. Tubes being frantically reloaded. Surfaced again to take up pursuit. The 4th and final DE turned to engage. Dove to PD for the 3rd time in 15 minutes (starting to feel like a dolphin here), and when the moment was right, let him have it. No escorts remain. Surfaced again to deal with the carrier. Torpedo loaders out on deck trying to get our fish from the external lockers. Hanging back a bit from the carrier, working out what his next move will be. Got into range and managed to score a hit, but only on the portside prop. As soon as we hit him, he cranked up the speed to about 14 knots on the remaining shaft. Played porpoise with the carrier for a few minutes. He scored a few hits on our boat with his aft mounted cannon which discouraged us from surface pursuit. But when he turned into the wind and launched his fighters, we decided at that point to abandon the chase as it had become far too dangerous. In the end, we (wisely, bitterly) let him go. U 802 now has some serious leaks owing to damage of the pressure hull. Deep diving is out of the question, and our further combat worthiness is in some doubt. We are currently approaching the convoy lanes off of Newfoundland, but with battle damage and few torpedoes, the decision to return to base is looking more attractive by the hour. The hunt continues (but not for long, methinks)... |
South East of Greenland. Beaconing convoy to alert 'rake" of U-boots further east to close in. Large Halifax convoy with at least six escorts incl two destroyers appear very alert. The Need to communicate position not helping my 'Itchy neck sydrome'! Convoy commander must be new or inept; several merchantmen and tankers are straggling, failing to keep formation and are easy targets. Seas are heavy; I will have to approach submerged to avoid eels broaching and steady the cross hairs, I am at port rear of convoy on base of course 80. New VIIC handling well: minor engine repair.:salute: Visibility is low under 4,000 meters. Rake is slim following previous wolfpack operations; only 3 boots on station; one is reportedly Kretschmer; so hope for success-I can 'play up' under the master's eye perhaps; When cleared by BdU of beacon-duty, will try to head the convoy an commence eel launchs. Those two destroyers are worrisome.
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U-221
A close call...
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5th March, 1941 - 21:03 - BF 6462
My first command and wartime patrol. U-221, a new Type VIIC boat. Thankfully my crew is made up of mostly experienced men, some of whom have several patrols under their belts. We left St. Nazaire at 18:30. Ideal as it means we have the cover of darkness to help us get out. We're zigzagging all the same - there's been a lot of Tommy submarine activity lately, especially up near Lorient. We're going at full speed while we clear the shallow waters and after that we'll cruise at around 10 knots. Our mean course is 235°. Our orders are to go to AL95 - apparently it's an area where several merchant and convoy routes either merge or cross paths, so we should get plenty of traffic. Weather is clear, visibility is good. Winds 2 NE, sea 1. 8th March, 1941 - 18:30 - BE 6372 We've just received word of a convoy in BE 39, about 130km away from us, heading ENE at 7 knots. Mettin, our navigator, has plotted an intercept course that should get us in range in around 10 hours. If all goes well we'll arrive just ahead of them with them off our port side. Now heading 052° at G.F. 9th March, 1941 - 02:38 - BF 1747 The closer we get to our intercept point the worse the weather seems to become. Winds 5-6 W, sea 6, very heavy swell. Our speed is reduced and our visibility is somewhat reduced by the spray. Attacking is going to be a lot harder if we find them, especially with torpedoes apparently running deep as it is. 07:09 - BF 1479 We did it, we sank our first ship! A large tanker for a juicy 13,752GRT. We were lucky and managed to intercept the convoy right where we wanted while it was still dark, allowing us to slip the front and starboard escorts with relative ease. We dived and managed to work our way into the middle of the convoy. After sighting the tanker we picked it as our target and moved into an attack position. All four bow tubes flooded and ready, though I only planned on firing two at her. We fired our first two from 950m, bow angle of 090°. Perfect positioning, in theory. Both of them appeared to hit but we couldn't observe any damage to her. I took the decision to fire our remaining two, the angle 100° or so. They both hit her too. The third hit exploded under her keel, breaking her back and splitting her in half - what a sight! We then turned our attention to potential targets aft of us. Our initial target was going to be a nice, fat ore carrier but the convoy had started to zigzag and we calculated her range to be 2,220m. Not a chance. I had to settle for a small merchant instead. Fired our stern torpedo from 700m, bow angle 080°. We waited well over a minute... Nothing. "Time's up. Did it miss?! Surely not at this range!" quipped my 2 WO. Torpedo failure perhaps? The calculations should have been right. Maybe it failed to explode, or it ran too deep as so many have been reported to do. "Nothing we can do now." I said, before ordering we dive to 40m and turn to 270°. The escorts had finally woken up and were beginning to hunt for us. Not fully awake, it would seem, as after an hour of them circling we heard them turn away and move back towards the convoy. We're currently reloading our torpedoes but as the convoy is in shallower waters and zigzagging I've decided not to press any further attack. Surfacing in around an hour if there are no further incidents. We were able to get a photo through the periscope of our unsuspecting victim while moving into position. http://i.imgur.com/iRb8qSs.png |
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