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Chapter 8


Wehrmacht Series: U-boot Type VII—issued March 21, 1943

February 12, 1945, at dusk—near Kiel, Germany

Kapitän Reinhold von Holstein stood on the concrete platform looking at the dark clouds, which partially obscured the setting sun on the horizon. The wind made an already chilly day even colder. A North Sea wind in February was always brisk and icy, and it promised to be a cold night too. The kapitän adjusted his leather jacket, turning up the collar and pulling it together over the Iron Cross, first class, which hung at his neck. The sound of approaching voices caused him to turn.

A small group was approaching, and he only knew one of the four people winding their way down the iron stairway to the concrete platform. It was his first officer, Helmut Dorfmann. Behind them was the partially concealed concrete-reinforced submarine bunkers, which formerly held the pride of the German Navy’s submarine fleet. Now many of them were bombed-out ruins, and none had escaped damage. Times had definitely changed for the worse.

When Kapitän von Holstein had been attached to the German Naval High Command in late 1938, he had participated in a study, which recommended that Germany would need at least three hundred undersea boats if they were to contest the sea lanes and defeat the English Navy in war.

However, at that time, before that the war had started, Germany had only 22 ocean-going U-Boats ready for sea duty. Yet that early optimistic assessment of 300 U-Boats had been surpassed, and just this month U-Boat production had hit 1,170. Unfortunately, of these, 784 had already been sunk, along with their crews.

“Hello, Kapitän!” Helmut enthusiastically called out as he motioned his three companions toward the platform where von Holstein awaited. Von Holstein could not help but smile at his first officer, whose good nature was always a point of pleasure for the entire crew during long tours at sea. Even now, before the dangerous and risky venture, Helmut was still in good spirits.

The kapitän waved back. Helmut was a rather short and stocky man, in stark contrast to the kapitän, who was tall and lean. The three other individuals, two men and a woman, were all of medium height with light-colored hair. The men wore black SS uniforms of the Leibenstardte Division, and the woman wore a uniform of the Death Heads SS Unit of the camps.

But what really struck von Holstein about the young men were their eyes. They had not seen the real terror of war and its effects, yet their eyes told a different story, as though they had seen a great deal of death and destruction. Of this, the kapitän was sure. The woman, on the other hand, looked at him with empty eyes, as though she felt nothing.

“Kapitän, I would like to introduce you to Sturmbannführer’s Steiner, Rossmann, and Muller,” said Helmut as each man clicked his heels, bowed slightly, and raised his arm in the party salute as his name was mentioned. The woman seemed remote and mechanical in her salute. Strange, thought von Holstein, how a woman so beautiful was so completely devoid of emotion and the knowledge of her effect on men.

Kapitän von Holstein saluted as a naval officer rather than return the party salute. If the three noticed this omission, they did not indicate it. Helmut preferred diplomacy and seemed slightly amused at the kapitän’s choice. The two men had begun the war full of optimism, as staunch advocates of the sanctity and honor of the cause. However, that was long ago, and now their thoughts were often filled with disillusionment of leadership and war. But they would do their duty to the end. However, these two new men on the other hand were a rarity these days. They were true believers fighting for a cause. Whatever that cause was.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kapitän,” said the one introduced as Steiner. “We have read your dossier, and it is quite impressive.”

“You are too kind,” replied von Holstein.

“No, you are truly a hero of the Third Reich. One of our most decorated and skilled U-Boat commanders,” continued the man named Meinhoff. “We are very fortunate to have you as our commander for this mission of the Fuhrer.”

“Yes, the tide has now turned on the enemies of the Fatherland,” exulted Steiner.

Von Holstein nodded in agreement. Fools, he thought. This month, significantly more U-boats had been lost than Allied merchant ships. American and British submarine detection technology was far superior. And British and American intelligence seem to have cracked their codes. So now the hunter had become the hunted—and the Germans are paying the price in naval blood.

“Why do we not retire to the command bunker?” suggested von Holstein. “Food and drinks have been prepared so that we might enjoy a meal while we talk. Once it is dark, we shall leave.”

The small party of men and the woman moved toward the metal doors a few yards away.

A small concrete opening protruded from the side of a stone cliff. The gray concrete was camouflaged with green, gray, and black markings. Two Kriegsmarine guards stood smartly to attention as the men entered the command center’s outer chamber.

Though the command room was sparsely furnished, the few staff officers moved quickly about with a sense of urgency. The base was mostly empty now, but it was still subjected to both nightly and daytime bombing raids. It was best to be inside in case the air raid sirens sounded.

Leading the group into a small side conference room, von Holstein motioned for each to take a seat around an oblong wooden table. Maps, diagrams, and folding chairs were scattered about the room.

The lack of organization was one of the reasons this base had been chosen. The repair facility was no longer operational. Only three U-Boats were still operating from it, and all of them were at sea. With Germany’s diminished capacity, all production and repair activities had been allocated to the larger more important facilities.

After the group was seated, von Holstein began, “I have not been informed what your mission entails, nor do I wish to know, nor should you tell me if I should ask. However, I am aware of where we will be going. No one but those of you in this room, with the exception of a few at the highest of levels, is even aware of what we will be doing. You are not to speak to the crew about the mission—either now or during our passage. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Kapitän!” the officers answered together.

“Now please help yourselves to the food. I must speak with the first officer for a moment in private.” Von Holstein guided Helmut into another room and shut the door.

“Helmut, I am sorry that I have been unable to speak with you sooner about what I am going to tell you,” said von Holstein. “Submerged offshore as I speak is a vessel that will forever change the way undersea warfare will be fought. It is waiting for us. As you know, our Fuhrer has always been a supreme supporter of the development of new weapons. Our naval engineers have successfully adapted a Dutch device known as a snorkel and added it to two prototype U-Boats. One is a short-range two-hundred-ton vessel, and the other is a long-range one-thousand-and-five-hundred-ton vessel. We will be using the long-range vessel known as the XXI.”

“What exactly is a snorkel? And what are you talking about?” asked a puzzled Helmut.

“A snorkel is a device that will allow us to recharge our batteries without the need to surface,” responded von Holstein.

“That’s wonderful!” Helmut responded with glee.

“As you know, typically a U-Boat has a surface speed of just over 17 knots. Using this snorkel and other new modifications, we will be able to maintain a submerged speed of up to 18 knots.”

“Are you kidding?” said Helmut with a look of disbelief on his face.

“I am dead serious, my friend.”

“How is it that you are telling me now?” asked Helmut.

“I was instructed to only tell those who needed to know. But if I am lost, you must carry out the mission. I am sorry, my old friend, that I was not able to tell you sooner.

“A handpicked skeleton crew is currently on board. The remaining members of our old crew should be arriving here as we speak,” von Holstein continued.

“This is unbelievable,” said Helmut, still showing signs that he was somewhat mystified by what he had just learned.

“Yes, this is unbelievable,” agreed von Holstein. “I hope that it will help the war effort, but I am afraid it is too late for us to claim victory now.”

“The only thing left is for us to do our duty,” replied Helmut.

“Yes! Our mission is one of evasion, not attack. The snorkel has been coated with antiradar materials and is fitted with radar search aerials. Our submerged speed is great enough to outrun any potential depth charge attack if we are detected. We also have on board an ultrasensitive hydrophone system, which will allow us to locate enemy ships up to fifty miles away. The supersonic echo will set the range, direction, speed, and number of targets,” von Holstein said as he paced the small room, hands clasped behind his back.

“All without surfacing,” marveled Helmut more to himself than his kapitän. “Furthermore, should we encounter an enemy destroyer, we will be able to switch the engines over to an electric motor with a belt drive system, which allows for silent running at under five knots. There has also been an improvement in armament capabilities, which include torpedoes able to fire at any angle from a depth of a hundred and fifty feet while still accurately tracking the target. A new zigzag and acoustic torpedo has been secretly developed. We will not be fooled by the British foxer decoys that emit sounds to foil our noise-detection torpedoes. Even the tactic of turning off the engines will not stop this new weapon.”

“Unbelievable!” Helmut paused in astonishment and then began speaking again. “After we have delivered our three pieces of luggage,” he said, motioning with his head toward the three officers in the next room, “will we have the opportunity to try our luck with these new devices?”

“Absolutely! But first, we must get them to the American West Coast without anyone discovering us. Now come, we must rejoin our guests in the next room.”

The Philatelist

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