the enemy, according to the reports from other U-boats, believed that
they had effectively blocked the passage with a mine field that
stretched for several miles. I say "believed," because the mines, as
before stated, were showing above the surface during the ebb tide and
one could easily steer through the lanes between them. The blocking of
this important passage was therefore for the enemy an assuring but
somewhat expensive illusion. It was not quite so easy as I had expected
from the stories and reports of my fellow submarine commanders to slip
between the mines.
"Well, sirs, here it goes!" I said to both officers, who, like me, had
crawled into their thick oil-skins and had exchanged their caps,
embroidered with gold oak leaves, for the practical southwester. "Now,
we'll see who spots the first mine."
In a drizzle of foam and spray we were standing side by side and gazed
at the sea several hundred meters ahead of us. The ocean had within the
last few hours become still heavier and stormier, and the wind came from
the southwest and consequently straight toward us so that there was
danger of discovering the mines too late, as they would be concealed
from our sight with every roll of the sea.
Suddenly we all three looked at one another and then quickly at the sea
again. There they were! Heavens, what a bunch! In all directions as far
as the eye could see were the devilish dark globes, washed with the
breakers' snow-white foam. We were so overwhelmed by the sight of all
these mines that we started to swear and kept it up for some time
without any interruption.
"It's outrageous! It's unheard of! It's terrible! Such a mass! And such
a people call themselves Christian seafarers--a bunch of murderers,
that's what they are, who can put out such dirty traps!"
With reduced speed we went toward the "caviar sandwich," as Petersen
called the dark spotted surface before us. Now it was "up to" us
skilfully to steer the boat between the irregularly spread mines and see
carefully to it that we did not get into a blind alley. If only our boat
did not hit one of those devilish things! It would be the end of us! But
surely if we kept calm, we should get through all right. Certainly we
would. We had a warhelmsman who was a wonder in his line, boatswain's
mate Lohmann. He could thank his skill as a helmsman for his long career
in the navy. If he was up to some deviltry--which, it is said, rather
often happened in former days--it was always mentioned as an extenuating
circumstance--"but he's such an able helmsman."
Lohmann, when he put his mind to it, could certainly steer. He could hit
a floating cork with the prow. He was standing with feet apart in the
tower and grinning so that his mouth reached from ear to ear. He always
grinned when he stood at the wheel. But now that he had become the most
important person on board, he was radiating joy and pride to such an
extent that his little square figure took on a superior pose of careless
daring. With his right hand he spun the wheel playfully, just as if he
were experimenting. He had shoved the other deep down into the large
pocket of his seaman's trousers clear up to his elbow.
Then we were pounding into the mine field. Lohmann squinted together his
small gray eyes to a couple of narrow slits, spat first in his right
hand, and then in a long semi-circle towards the first mine which we
were just passing on the port side. He, thereupon, hitched his slipping
trousers, lit his nose-warmer--a pipe broken off close to the bowl--spat
once more into his right hand, and began a series of artistic curvings
and twistings to weave his way through the narrow lanes. And he was as
calm and confident as if he had done nothing all his life except steer
U-boats through mine fields. I could leave him in charge of it.
After ten minutes we had passed the mine field. We estimated we had
sifted through about eight hundred mines.
At high speed we then steered toward the second batch of mines.
Then came a series of reverses which made this the most eventful day so
far experienced by any U-boat crew in the war.
It was ten forty-two by the clock.
Beyond the second mine field an English destroyer was patrolling. We had
to dive quickly and go through the mines under the water, a detested and
very dangerous proceeding!
The destroyer had not seen us. The sea became more violent; the
barometer fell rapidly; the heaven was filled with black rain clouds.
The clearness of the atmosphere disappeared, and the ocean was restless
and covered with white foam. The sea washed over the periscope again
and again with white-combed, rushing mountains of water, so that for
several long seconds I could see nothing. Suddenly we were in the midst
of the mines. I could make out those that were close by, because the
water had risen so that only the tops of the black balls, which here and
there bobbed up for a second, could be seen.
To turn away from the mines at the right moment was almost impossible.
We were running straight for a mine--the next second it was on top of us
and passed only a few meters from the periscope. At the same time, on
the other side, three mines clustered together in a group were floating
past us. It was a hellish journey, and the destroyer was all the time
waiting for us on the other side of the mine field, and compelled us to
continue below the surface. He had no consideration for our
difficulties.
Oh, how he would enjoy it if we suddenly went up in the air, surrounded
by a cloud of smoke and fire! Good God! Now we are about to give him
this joy. I had already shut my eyes and thought we were doomed--because
one of the mines had just struck hard with a metallic clang against the
periscope, a sound which I will never forget until I am in a better
world! But the mine, which I saw just before the wave washed over the
periscope, had been carried away behind us and had better sense than to
blow us up; it only twisted on its axis and didn't do us any harm. Maybe
it was old and damaged.
I could not stand it any longer. I felt like a man trying to commit
suicide when he misses his aim.
"Quickly dive to twenty-five meters!" I called down to the "Centrale."
Rather dash blindly through this hell than always see your last minute
right before your eyes, and still be unable to do anything. But if,
while submerged, a cable should fasten itself around the U-boat? The
chance of getting through was better down there, I figured.
"Start the phonograph," I commanded, "and put on something cheerful, if
you please!"
In spite of the new, beautiful "Field Gray Uniforms," the song which
soon resounded through the boat, I heard twice a hellish grinding and
scraping above the conning tower--mine cables which we had fouled. At
last, after many long minutes, we were through the mine field. We arose
and I put up the periscope and looked around. God be praised! The
atmosphere, or rather the water, was clearer. The destroyer was several
hundred meters behind us, and we had come through the horrible place
without a scratch.
Aha! There was the first buoy--the first placed on the narrow sand bar.
Now it was careful steering for the ship. We took soundings and
proceeded cautiously. If only the current had not been so strong! It
constantly swung us out of our course. I had to steer against the
current continually.
"Mate, how far are we now from land?"
The sailor quickly brought up the chart and measured the distance with a
scale.
"Two and a half sea miles."
"Oh, the devil! And, as yet, we cannot see anything of it. The air has
been thickening. That's all we need to make things worse for us!"
The cruiser on guard now came rushing past us on the port side. It was
not far from us when I pulled down the periscope for a time.
Who can describe my fright when I put up the periscope again in a few
minutes and could not see anything because of the fog that had settled
down on the sea! A dark rainwall also moved along the surface. And this
was just where it was absolutely necessary for me to see. I must see
where the channel began to be very narrow! Only one narrow passage about
two hundred meters wide, there was, within which we absolutely must
proceed. Every turn away from this--either to the right or left--would
immediately run us into the sandbank. And now there was no sign of the
buoy which marked the channel. In addition to this we faced a current we
had not counted on.
I searched and searched for the buoy. The sweat stood out on my
forehead, and the excitement made me so warm that the sights on the
periscope time and time again clouded up on account of the heat from my
body. The mate must continually wipe the wet glass with a piece of
chamois.
"Now we should be off the buoy, Mate, but I don't see it! Good God, what
are we going to do! It will be fatal--it is impossible to navigate
without picking it up. And besides, the destroyer which is lurking
behind that confounded rainwall and which at any minute can come up
alongside us!"
The buoy did not appear.
Then the weather began to clear up. The rain thinned and the fog lifted
a little.
First we saw land. Thereafter we saw the destroyer at quite a distance
on the port side, laying a course towards us, and then--then----
All good spirits have mercy on us!
The buoy--our buoy--was to the wrong side.
And we? Great God in Heaven--we were going on the wrong course! We were
running right for the sandbank. We must already be right on top of them.
Disastrously for us, it has cleared too late.
"Hard a-starboard! Reverse both engines full speed!" There was nothing
more to do. Then came the disaster! A jar and a whirring--U-boat 202 had
gone aground.
VI
A DAY OF TERROR
What we went through was horrible. The breakers dashed high over the
sandbar. They hurled themselves on us to destroy our boat, played ball
with us, lifted us high into the air and dropped us again on the bar
with such fury that the whole boat shivered and trembled.
We had lost control of the boat completely. The roaring breakers made so
much noise we could hear them through the thick metal wall. Every new,
onrushing wave tossed us higher and higher on the reef. Exposure was our
greatest danger. Already the top of the conning tower and the prow
projected above the surface--but a moment more and the entire boat would
be plainly visible. Then we would surely be lost. As a helpless wreck,
we would become a target for the destroyer.
Pale and calm, every man stuck to his post and clung to the nearest
support, so as not to fall at the rolling and jolting of the boat. With
awe, I looked alternately at the manometer and the feverish sea which I
could see all around me through the conning tower windows. Oh, if it had
been only the sea we must fear! But through the scum and froth, more
merciless than the wild, onrushing breakers, the black destroyer,
smoking copiously, steamed straight toward us, like a bull with lowered
horns.
"We had better keep below the water at any price, even if we are smashed
to pieces against the sandbank and the boat breaks up, rather than to
be blown to pieces by the shells of the English," was the thought that
flashed through my brain.
"Fill the ballast tanks," I called down to the "Centrale." "Fill all the
tanks full, Herr Engineer. Do you hear? We must not under any
circumstances rise any higher!"
"All ballast tanks filling!" it was reported from below.
Oh, how quiet it was below! Not a word was uttered. No anxious
conjectures, no surmises, and no questions.
A deep, irresistible grief clutched my heart. My poor little boat! My
poor crew! There every man unflinchingly and unhesitatingly did his
duty, and devotedly put his faith in me. They were all heroes, so young
and still so brave and able. And I, the commander, had brought them
into the very mouth of death, and to me, the only one who could see our
desperate situation, it seemed as if the scale of death slowly weighed
against us, because the destroyer, with horrible certainty, was
approaching. His sharp prow pointed directly towards us. Soon he would
discover the projecting parts of our tower and prow, which the breakers
treacherously washed over, and then we would be lost. Soon a hail of
shells would sweep over us, and the greedy, foaming sea would roaringly
hurl itself through the open holes in our sides.
The filling of the ballast tanks had the desired effect. The boat lay
down heavily on the reef and spurred the wild waves to greater efforts,
and, though we did not rise any farther, the jolting increased in
violence because of its added weight. It was a wonder that the boat did
not go to pieces like an egg shell, and we all looked at one another in
surprise when, after a terrific jolt, nothing more occurred than the
bursting of a few electric bulbs. "First-class material," I thought to
myself.
The mate who, over my shoulder, was keeping watch on the destroyer
through the window on the port side, suddenly said, in his hearty, Saxon
dialect:
"Well, well! Where does he intend to look for us now, I wonder? At any
rate, he doesn't think that we are stuck here among the breakers."
"Mate, you old optimist. Those words I'll never forget. Great God! If
you are right! Then certainly----"
"He is already turning," the little chap cut me short, and jammed his
nose against the window-glass, so as to be able to see better.
I grabbed him by the neck and pulled him away, as my blood rushed to my
head.
"What? What is it you are saying? Is he turning--good God in heaven--yes,
it's true--he really _is_ turning, all the time turning--now his broadside
swings round towards us, now his stern--he has turned--he is departing. He
has not seen us, he has not seen us!"
I remember that once, when I was a little boy, I got a roe-deer as a
present.
I loved it a great deal and we were inseparable. It had to sleep on a
rug by my bed. One beautiful summer's day we were playing in the sun on
a large lawn before the house when suddenly a large, unknown hound came
rushing towards my little pet and blood-thirstily chased it around the
lawn. The nasty dog was about to run it down when my pet, with a shrill
shriek, appealed for help. I was standing paralyzed in terror and could
not get a word through my lips, when unexpectedly the owner called the
dog back with a whistle. Then I threw myself, with great exultation,
down alongside my pet, pressed it to my heart, kissed its black snoot,
and cried and laughed with joy.
Those were my feelings now, when, with my own eyes, I saw the
impossible--that the destroyer, without suspecting our presence, had
steered away from us. Was it possible that he did not see us, when,
according to my estimation, he was only about eight hundred meters away?
Could the mate be right, and the foolish destroyer have only searched
the passage in accordance with his schedule? "But," I thought, with a
shiver, "how easily would not perchance a glance in our direction have
betrayed us?"
Radiant with joy, I told the crew in the "Centrale" what a happy turn
the affairs had taken at the last moment. A burden must have fallen from
the hearts of my splendid, brave boys.
I then revealed my plans to the engineer:
"We are going to lie here until the destroyer reaches the other end of
his patrol, which is about three to four sea miles from here. Then, at
once, quickly empty all the tanks so that the boat cuts loose from the
reef. At top speed, we will make for deep water and then dive again to a
safe position below the surface."
Again a light rain-cloud floated slowly towards us and favored our
plans. Soon the destroyer could be seen only as a fading figure in the
mist. Now we could risk to arise and get away from our other danger--the
fiercely rolling breakers.
The valves were quickly opened. At once the boat came up. The terrific
jolting ceased. The hand of the manometer moved upwards, and, after a
few seconds, the boat's broad, dripping back broke through the surface.
There is the buoy! Now full speed ahead! We'll be soon there--now but a
few hundred meters more and then the game is ours--a game on which life
and death depended; a game which would have turned our hair white if we
had not been so young, and if we had not, through horrible dangers,
been united by true and faithful bonds.
As soon as we had placed ourselves on the right side of the longed-for
buoy we again hurled ourselves deep down into the cool sea as happily as
a fish which for a long time had been on dry land, and suddenly gets
into its own element again.
The first and most dangerous part of our journey through the
"Witch-Kettle" was over, although not without its horrible experiences.
The narrow inlet was passed and also the several sea miles, wide and
free from reefs and other navigation difficulties. Thus we merrily
glided about in the deep and, in good spirits, hammered and listened and
felt our splendid, hard-tried, heavily-tested boat all over back and
forth, to see if it had pulled through without a leak from the pit of
the rolling breakers; and we soon all forgot. As long as the nerves were
at a continuous tension we had no time to think about past events. And
though we had happily passed through and over mines and reefs, still the
day was far from ended, and our main task was still before us.
This day continually brought us new and unexpected surprises, so that,
at last, we had a gruesome feeling that everything had united itself for
our destruction. First there were the trawlers; then the motor boats,
which in pairs, with a steel net between them, searched through the
channel where they suspected that U-boats were lurking. Every time we
stuck up our periscope cautiously in order to look around a bit, it
never failed that we had one of those searching parties right in front
of us, so that we must submerge in a hurry to a greater depth in order
not to be caught by the dangerous nets. And if for a short time there
was an opportunity to scan the horizon undisturbed, then the atmosphere
was thick, and we were unable to locate the shores, which we knew were
close at hand, so that at last we hardly knew where we were, as the
currents in these parts could not be estimated. Since the famous buoy we
had not seen any mark which would in any degree assist us to locate
ourselves.
We kept to our course up the center of the channel and trusted that our
lucky star would lead us straight. Every half hour we came up from the
safety of the deep and tried to take our bearings and then submerged
again, disappointed. The crew, of course, must remain at the diving
stations uninterruptedly.
About two o'clock the cook came around with pea-soup and pork in small
tin cups. He also stretched up his arms to us in the conning tower with
a steaming plate in his hands. I put the plate on my knees and dipped
out its contents, thinking "The wild beasts are fed." The moisture,
which forms in large drops on the ceiling during long trips under the
water, fell down on my head and into my plate and left small splotches
of oil in the pea-soup as a sign they were real drops of U-boat sweat.
We again arose to the periscope level at four o'clock. At a distance of
five hundred meters, a scouting fleet was moving about. At the same time
on our starboard bow a French torpedo boat with four funnels was
cruising around.
I had a desire to fire a shot at this enemy, but the fact that such a
shot would send the whole lurking fleet at us restrained me.
I have to admit that it was hard to hold back from taking the chance,
and it was with a heavy heart that I gave orders to dive again. But
this, however, saved us. If we had traveled at the periscope level for
only a few minutes more, I would not be sitting here to-day, smoking my
cigar and writing down the story of our adventures.
We were submerging, and the manometer showed seventeen meters. Then,
suddenly, it was as if some one had hit each one of us at the same
minute with a hammer. We all were unconscious for a second and found
ourselves on the floor or thrown prone in some corner with our heads,
shoulders, and other parts of our bodies in great pain. The whole boat
shook and trembled. Were we still alive or what had happened? Why was it
so dark all around us? The electric lights had gone out.
"Look to the fuse!"
"It's gone!"
"Put in the reserve fuse!"
Suddenly we had our lights again. All this happened within a few seconds
and more quickly than I can tell it.
What had happened? Was it true we were lost? Would the water rush into
the ship and pull us to the bottom? It must be a mine--a violent mine
detonation had shaken us close by the boat. And the U-202? What were the
consequences of this to the U-boat?
The reports came from all quarters:
"The bow compartment is tight!"
"The stern compartments tight!"
"The engine room all safe!"
Then the boat unexpectedly began to list. The bow sunk, and the stern
arose. The ship careened violently, although the diving rudder was set
hard against this.
"Herr Captain," Gröning, who was in charge of the diving rudder,
shouted, "something has happened. The boat does not obey the rudder. We
must have gotten hooked into some trap--a line or maybe a net. It's hell.
That's all that's needed. We are jammed into some net, and all around us
the mines are lining it. It's enough to set you crazy."
"Listen," I called down. "We must go through it. Put the diving rudder
down hard! Both engines full speed ahead! On no condition must we rise!
We must stay down at all costs. All around above us are mines!"
The engines were going at top speed. The boat shot upwards and then bent
down, ripped into the net, jerked, pulled and tore and tore until the
steel net gave way from the force of the attack.
"Hurrah! We are through it! The boat obeys her diving rudder!" Gröning
called out from below. "The U-202 goes on her way!"
"Down, keep her down all the time. Dive to a depth of fifty meters," I
commanded. "This is a horrible place--a real hell!"
I bent forward and put my head into my hands. It was rocking as if being
hit by a trip hammer. My forehead ached as if pricked with needles and
my ears buzzed so that I had to press my fingers into them.
"It's a horrible place," I repeated to myself. "And what luck we had,
what a peculiar chance and wonderful escape that we got out at all!"
It took some time for my aching head to remember chronologically what
had happened. Yes, it certainly was lucky that we, at the right moment,
had submerged deep. We had been at a depth of about seventeen meters
when our prow collided with the net, and the detonation followed. The
more I thought of it, the plainer everything became to me.
As we had run against the net, it had stretched and that had set off the
mine. The mines are set in the nets at the height at which the U-boats
generally travel, which is the periscope level. If we had tried to
attack the torpedo boat or, for any other reason, had remained for a few
minutes more at the periscope level, we would have run into the net at a
point where our enemies had hoped we would--namely, so that the mine
would have exploded right under us. Now the mine, on the contrary,
exploded above us, and its entire strength went in the direction where
the natural resistance was smallest--which was upwards. Without causing
us any greater damage than a fright and a few possible scars on the thin
metal parts, which might have scratched the paint, we had escaped.
Undoubtedly the Frenchman was filled with exultation over our
destruction when, waiting at his post by the net, he heard and saw the
explosion, and probably reported by wireless to the entire world:
"Enemy U-boat caught and destroyed in a net by a mine explosion."
And little I begrudge him that joy if he, as a return favor in the
future, will leave us alone, because we had gotten pretty nearly all we
wanted, as it was.
The day's experiences were far from ended. First Engineer Krüger
appeared on the stairway to the conning tower with a troubled look.
"Herr Captain," he reported, "we must have gotten something in the
propeller. Our electric power is being consumed twice as fast as it
should. I suppose that pieces of the metal net have entangled themselves
in the blades. The laboring of the engines is terrific and the charge
in the batteries is being rapidly reduced, and they are becoming
exhausted."
Were we now going to have this difficulty, too! We had already consumed
a large quantity of the current, because we had been compelled to dive
at our highest speed and this uses up the batteries fast.
"How far can we go on it now, Herr Krüger?"