THE LONE WOLF (2025 Edition) by Michel Poulin - HTML preview

CHAPTER 17 – ANOTHER BLOW

 

02:06 (California Time)

Thursday, July 2, 1942

U-800, off San Diego, California

U.S.A.

An elongated dark shape slowly rose from the depth and broke the surface of the water, with barely any bubbles or wake being visible in the obscurity of the three-quarter moon night. It rose out by barely four meters before it stopped its ascent, leaving the bulk of its mass under water and out of sight of potential coastal watchers. Inside the forward observation dome of the U-800, Otto Kretschmer, accompanied by Lieutenant Commander Takeshi Nagaoka, started examining at once with his binoculars San Diego and its port area. The three-quarter moon helped him see better, but there was also the fact that San Diego was not enforcing a night light curfew. Even the North Island Naval Air Station, with its airfield and its docks, was not blacked out, making Otto shake his head.

‘’What will it take for these Americans to learn their lessons?’’ He then twisted his head to look behind him at Oberbootsmann Fritz Lent, who was looking through the optics of the Zeilsaule C38 Night Director unit mounted in the center of the observation dome. The Zeilsaule C38 had three big, side-by-side 110 millimeter-diameter high quality lens specially coated to enhance night observation and was one of the finest optical instruments produced by the German optical industry, which was itself justly famous for the quality of its lens.

‘’Can you see details in the airfield area, Herr Lent?’’

‘’Plenty to give us many good targets, Herr Kapitän. I can see clearly the main tarmac area, which is filled with two opposite rows of parked aircraft, going from fighter aircraft to large patrol aircraft and bombers.’’

‘’That sounds perfect as targets for our guns. Let’s see now if our rangefinder unit can give us an approximate range to these parked aircraft.’’ Picking up the intercom’s microphone of the dome, Otto called the aft observation dome, where Matrosen obergefreiter Walter Koenig was manning the Flak ZAG rangefinder unit,

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normally used to give the range to approaching aircraft but which was perfectly capable as well of targeting sea and land targets at short and medium ranges.

‘’Kapitän to Flak ZAG rangefinder: we can see from the forward dome a double row of aircraft parked in the airfield situated on the coast, by the entrance to the harbor. Can you see and range those aircraft?’’

‘’Affirmative, Herr Kapitän! The range to the nearest aircraft is approximately 5,400 meters, while the farthest one is 5, 900 meters away.’’

‘’Excellent! We will thus start with a ranging shot set for 5,700 meters.’’ Otto then switched his intercom to ship-wide transmission.

‘’ATTENTION ALL HANDS! BE PREPARED TO MAN QUICKLY OUR TWIN MAIN GUN MOUNT AS PLANNED. HELM: SURFACE, SURFACE, SURFACE! BE READY TO DIVE BACK UNDER QUICKLY AT MY COMMAND.’’ The water around the submarine seemingly boiled

as compressed air was injected in the main ballast

tanks, chasing out the water in them and making the

U-800 fully rise to the surface. Otto, who was

closely watching the operation, gave another order

on the intercom when he saw that the forward deck

of his submarine was fully out of the water.

‘’DEPLOY THE MAIN GUN MOUNT!

GUNNERS, MAN YOUR WEAPON!’’

Activated from inside the submarine, the two deck

panels covering the main gun well slid open

sideways, creating at the same time a large platform

on which the gunners would have plenty of room to

walk on, while the big twin 12.8-centimeter SK C38 gun mount rose out of its well, along with two of the

retractable ammunition carrousels. At the same time, the forward access hatch on the forward face of the conning tower was thrown open and five men ran to the gun mount, while six more men followed more slowly while carrying one complete 12.8 cm round each. Inside the forward airlock, other sailors were readying more rounds, in order to pass them via a human chain to the twin guns and thus accelerate the rate of fire. With Fritz Lent providing

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precise bearings and with Koenig adding an estimated range to target, the big gun mount was soon slewed in the direction of North Island Naval Air Station, two 12.8 cm rounds with their 28-kilogram explosive shells being fed into the gun breaches.

‘’ON TARGET!’’

‘’ONE RANGING SHOT, RANGE OF 5,700 METERS, AT PARKED AIRCRAFT, FIRE!’’

A blinding flash illuminated the night for a second when the first round was fired, while the muzzle blast and roar made the whole submarine vibrate. Otto, like his men manning their fire control director and rangefinder, anxiously waited to see where their first shell would land. Otto grinned when that shell burst in the middle of the tarmac, close to a four-engine bomber.

‘’GUNNER, CORRECTION! LEFT, FIFTY METERS! FIRE WHEN READY!’’ The gun aimer effected the correction quickly, then fired his second round. The men waiting with ready rounds in their arms advanced forward at once to reload both guns. This time, the shell landed just beside a bomber, ripping off one wing and shredding its fuselage with shrapnel.

‘’GUNNER, FIRE FOR EFFECT! MAXIMUM RATE!’’

Two new shells were fired the next second, with a pair of shells following each subsequent five seconds. Otto ordered a new adjustment in both range and azimuth after each series of eight rounds, sweeping his gunfire up and down each of the two rows of parked aircraft. For good measure, he had twelve more rounds fired at the big hangars lining one side of the main tarmac, then gave the order to stow back the gun mount in its well and to evacuate the open deck. The U-800 was already nearly fully submerged when the American anti-aircraft guns posted around the naval air station belatedly opened fire, a bit over two minutes after the firing of the first round by the submarine. Otto grinned to Takeshi Nagaoka as the first American shells passed well overhead, missing their target by over 700 meters in range.

‘’We will be gone well before these American gunners find the correct range. From my count, we must have destroyed or severely damaged at least twenty aircraft on North Island, many of them patrol bombers. That should render life easier for us during the coming days.’’

‘’And may I ask what we will do next, Captain Kretschmer?’’ asked the Japanese Navy officer.

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‘’You certainly may. I intend to go up the coast to Los Angeles, then to San Francisco, and attack the shipping I find on the way, to render the Americans paranoid and possibly convince them to divert destroyers from their present Pacific missions and come to the defense of their West Coast. That way, we will both sink valuable merchant ships and their cargo and we also will weaken their naval posture in the Central Pacific. What? You seem to dislike that plan, Commander Nagaoka.’’ Feeling bad at hiding something from a friendly naval officer who had earned his admiration during the last few weeks, Nagaoka spoke while lowering his voice, so that the sailors near him couldn’t listen on.

‘’Pardon me if my reaction may have seemed insulting to you, Captain. To be candid and frank with you, submarine service in the Imperial Japanese Navy tends to be looked at with some contempt, as many of our officers consider underwater attacks to be cowardly, dishonorable acts. To attack merchant ships rather than warships is

considered even more contemptible, which is why our submarine commanders generally don’t attack enemy merchant ships and wait instead for enemy warships to be sighted to attack. I am not however part of those who think little of submarine warfare, especially after watching you and your men in action.’’

Otto was silent for a moment, digesting those words, before looking at the sailors present in the forward dome.

‘’Please leave the dome now, men.’’

‘’Yes, Herr Kapitän!’’

Once the sailors were gone, Otto looked back at Nagaoka.

‘’No offense taken, Commander. I appreciate frankness and understand that your national culture may affect the views of your compatriots about submarine warfare. However, that attitude is a huge strategic mistake in my opinion and it may cost you the war in the long run. You saw what our submarine campaign has done to Great Britain and how close the British maritime lifeline is to collapse.’’

‘’I saw the reports on that in Berlin, Captain. Talking of reports, I must tell you something else. My ambassador reacted with some dismay on reading that you once retrieved a group of Americans who had been shipwrecked in the Caribbean Sea and sheltered them until you let them go safely.’’

‘’And why did he show dismay at that?’’ asked Otto, his voice hardening by a notch. ‘’I was simply following the laws of the sea. What would your ambassador have wanted me to do with those people? Kill them on the spot?’’

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Nagaoka lowered his head in embarrassment before answering in a barely audible voice.

‘’Yes! Our ancient code of honor in Japan, called ‘Bushido’, considers that to let yourself be taken prisoner is a most dishonorable and cowardly act that strips away any rights from that person and would make him unworthy of living. A Japanese will commit suicide rather than letting himself be taken prisoner. Those Japanese who fail to do that are then considered to have dishonored both themselves and their family name. However, I am the son of a career diplomat and renown international jurist and I was born in The Hague, in the Netherlands, then grew up in France, Germany and Czechoslovakia. I actually lived very few years in Japan and, as a result, don’t think like the average Japanese. I joined the Imperial Japanese Navy as a signals officer out of tradition, not because I have a warrior spirit, and this cruise on your submarine is the first time I have been near combat.’’

‘’So, you disapprove of your navy’s outlook on prisoners. And what exactly could an American sailor or soldier expect if captured by the Japanese, if I may ask?’’

‘’Nothing good, Captain. He will either be executed on the spot, interrogated brutally for information or turned into a slave worker.’’

Otto’s face hardened at those words, but his expression softened after a few seconds and he bowed his head slightly at Nagaoka as he replied to him.

‘’Your humanity is a credit to you, Commander. So, what would you counsel me to do if I capture some Americans while on our way to Japan?’’

‘’Simple: don’t! My ambassador even counseled your government to

machinegun enemy shipwreck survivors in the water, rather than saving them from the sea.’’

Otto shook his head in obvious disgust then.

‘’War is already a bad thing. It doesn’t need to be made even worse by committing such atrocities.’’

‘’May I ask in turn what are your motivations in this war, Captain?’’

‘’You may! I would have much preferred to see Europe at peace, but my country is now at war and my duty is to defend it and prevent its defeat, which would inevitably result in its collapse and possible dismantlement. I am proud of being a German and, while I have no political affiliations, I will die if necessary to defend my country, but I will not dirty its name by committing atrocities or war crimes.’’ Nagaoka bowed low at Otto while speaking softly.

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‘’A most honorable attitude, Captain. Be assured of my complete loyalty and support during this trip.’’

05:51 (California Time)

North Island Naval Air Station

San Diego, California

Navy Captain William Murray was grim as he inspected the damage to his air station after sunrise, accompanied by a few of his senior staff officers. The losses in valuable aircraft were particularly stinging to him.

‘’Twenty-three aircraft destroyed and seventeen more seriously damaged, plus four hangars rendered nearly useless, and all that in about two minutes! How could a German submarine possess such a heavy firepower and also shoot so accurately?’’

‘’Well, sir, the U-800 is said to be in a class of its own.’’ replied his intelligence officer, Lieutenant Commander Leslie Warrington. ‘’Our own gunners and coastal lookouts say that it had a twin gun mount, something that would drastically raise its rate of fire. Also, our ordnance experts have had the chance to examine fragments from the shells fired by that submarine and can say with near certainty that they are of five-inch caliber.’’

Murray stopped walking at once and pivoted to face Warrington.

‘’A twin five-inch mount, on a submarine? That’s unheard of!’’

‘’Uh, not really, sir. That U-800 is actually reminiscent of our own NARWHAL cruiser submarine, which is armed with two single six-inch guns. As for the French submarine SURCOUF, it is armed with a twin eight-inch turret.’’

‘’Hum, you’re right! Make sure to pass that piece of intelligence about the U-800’s guns in our report to the 12th Naval District.’’ Murray then saw a jeep approaching fast and turned to wait for it. A young signals officer jumped out of the jeep after it screeched to a halt in front of the base commander and saluted him while presenting him a message form.

‘’This was just received, sir: two merchant ships, one cargo and one tanker, were torpedoed and sunk forty nautical miles from here, off Oceanside. The naval district commander has ordered the whole Pacific coast to be on full anti-submarine and anti-raider alert.’’

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‘’Damn! That U-800 is sailing up the coast towards Los Angeles and San Francisco. This could become very bloody indeed.’’

 

19:23 (California Time)

Control room of the U-800

Off San Francisco

‘’Herr Kapitän, our high definition mine-hunting sonar is detecting a dense underwater minefield ahead. It seems to be forming a half circle around the entrance to the Golden Gate.’’

‘’Very well! Helm, reduce speed to three knots! Steer to Heading 005 and keep our present depth!’’

Otto next went to the station of their high definition bow sonar, situated near the helmsman’s station, to look at the display screen.

‘’Okay, Herr Bock, let’s map this minefield in detail. Maybe we will be lucky and find a gap in it.’’

‘’At first sight, I would say that we would be lucky to find such a gap, Herr Kapitän. This minefield is quite dense. I will be able to give you a better picture in a few minutes.’’

‘’Take your time and be thorough, Bock. Coordinate with the helm to follow closely the boundaries of this minefield and report immediately if you find a gap.’’

‘’Understood, Herr Kapitän!’’

Otto then went aft to join Ulrich von Wittgenstein and Takeshi Nagaoka at the tactical plot table.

‘’Commander Nagaoka, what does your navy know about the defenses of San Francisco Harbor?’’

‘’Not as much as we wished, unfortunately, but enough to say that it is supposed to be the second most heavily defended American port after New York. It has numerous coastal gun batteries, anti-aircraft gun batteries, anti-submarine minefields and anti-submarine nets. Breaking through those defenses to enter San Francisco Bay would be an exploit by itself. As for the Golden Gate Strait itself, it is very deep but has strong currents and tides, while strong winds and thick fog, especially in the morning, can render traffic difficult.’’

Otto raised an eyebrow in interest at the mention of ‘thick fog’.

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‘’How frequent is fog in the area?’’

‘’In the Summer, nearly daily. Why?’’

‘’Because it may just allow us to repeat an infiltration tactic we used in Portland a few months ago, when we sailed through a mined entrance channel, using fog to hide us while we were partially submerged.’’

‘’Interesting! But that would bring you only part way: an anti-submarine net blocks the inner entrance to the Golden Gate, about one kilometer from the Golden Gate Bridge. What would you do to pass that net?’’

Ulrich von Wittgenstein, who was listening carefully to the exchange, suddenly had an idea and cut into the conversation.

‘’Maybe we won’t even need to pass through that net. That Golden Gate Bridge is a suspension-type bridge, if I remember well, no?’’

‘’Correct!’’ answered Nagaoka.

‘’And how many support towers are there, and where?’’

‘’Uh, there are two very tall steel towers which support the suspension cables. One is built just at the northern extremity of the bridge, while the southern tower juts out of the coast.’’

‘’And the base of that southern tower, could it be vulnerable to damage by torpedo hits?’’

Both Otto and Takeshi looked at Ulrich with wide eyes, suddenly catching on to what he had in mind.

‘’I believe that the southern support tower’s foundations are indeed exposed to torpedo hits, but the base is made of concrete and massive. One torpedo may cause some damage, but not enough to endanger the bridge.’’

‘’And eight, or even twelve torpedoes, would that be enough to make that bridge tower topple over?’’ asked Otto, getting excited.

‘’Hell, I am no civil engineer, but it certainly would create enough damage to cause a lot of worries to the Americans about the bridge’s structural integrity, especially if strong gusts of winds come in.’’

The reaction of Otto to those words then surprised both Takeshi and Ulrich. Turning around, Otto shouted an order towards the helmsman.

‘’GO UP TO PERISCOPE DEPTH! STEADY ON THE HEADING AND SPEED!’’ He then went to the watch periscope and raised it as soon as the ballasts operator announced that they were at periscope depth. Ulrich saw a savage grin form on his

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captain’s face after just two seconds of observation. His next series of orders then froze the blood of everyone in the control room.

‘’SURFACE, SURFACE, SURFACE! HELM, STEER HARD TO STARBOARD, HEADING 095! ENGINES TO FULL! TORPEDO ROOMS, PREPARE AND FLOOD ALL TUBES! MAN THE TORPEDO FIRE CONTROL SYSTEM!’’ As all the Germans in the control room suddenly got busy, passing or executing Otto’s orders, Takeshi Nagaoka was left speechless by the audacity and quickness of decision of Otto Kretschmer. A typical Japanese submarine captain would have weighed in his options for long moments and would then probably go for the safest one, in this case withdrawal. The big question now was what the Americans would do about such a decision.

20:02 (California Time)

Searchlight position, Battery Gate,

Fort Point, northern tip of Presidio District

San Francisco

‘’Hey, Rick, do you think that this damn German submarine will really try to attack San Francisco?’’

‘’Well, it did attack the Panama Canal and succeeded in blowing up the locks, no?’’ replied one of the three soldiers manning the big defense searchlight, situated nearly under the southern extremity of the Golden Gate Bridge. The third soldier snickered at that.

‘’Yeah, and the Army censorship tried for a full week to hide that fact to the public. Now, the bigwigs are nearly hysterical about how dangerous that U-800 is and are insisting on keeping us on indefinite alert. Of course, they’re not the ones who will stand awake all night. And with that ‘soup’ cutting visibility to about zero, what do they expect us to do? You can’t see dick!’’

That ‘soup’ was a thick fog from the ocean side which had rolled up the Golden Gate Strait, something that was very frequent for San Francisco, especially in the Summer months. The one named ‘Rick’ then replied dismissively.

‘’Forget the fog and about seeing through it, Jack. We have radar, don’t we? Radars don’t care about fog.’’

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Jack grunted to acknowledge that fact. The problem was that Rick knew and understood little about radar technology in general and about U.S. Army radar sets in particular, including the fact that all radars had a minimum range within which they could not detect objects on the ground or on water. The radars in use to protect San Francisco were first generation, metric-band sets optimized for medium and long range, with blind minimum zones of one kilometer or more against ground targets. They were thus next to useless against a ground or sea target below their own level which would be passing literally under their nose.

The three searchlight operators were deciding on whether to send one of their own to get mugs of hot coffee when a tremendous explosion from nearby shook the coastline, making the soldiers jerk nervously.

‘’WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?’’ shouted Jack, twisting his head in the direction of the strait, from which the explosion had been heard.

‘’I don’t know, but it was a big explosion.’’ replied Rick. ‘’It came from the approximate direction of the southern tower of the bridge. I…’’ A second, equally powerful explosion then shook the shoreline again.

‘’Holy shit! There must be saboteurs at work around the bridge’s tower foundations.’’

A third, then a fourth explosion, all from the same direction and at a regular interval of five seconds, finally made Rick understand what was happening.

‘’IT MUST BE THAT FUCKING GERMAN SUBMARINE! IT IS FIRING

TORPEDOES AT THE BASE OF THE BRIDGE’S SOUTH TOWER!’’

‘’WHAT CAN WE DO?’’ Lamented Jack. ‘’WE CAN’T SEE IT IN THAT FOG!’’

‘’WE CAN CALL IT IN!’’ replied the first soldier, named Daniel. ‘’LET THOSE BIGWIGS FIGURE IT OUT!’’

While Daniel jumped on the field telephone provided to their position and cranked it to call their battery’s command post, more explosions flashed through the fog. As the soldier finally got their command post on the line, the explosions stopped, making Rick raise an eyebrow.

‘’I counted a total of eight explosions. I wonder if that submarine ran out of torpedoes. Hopefully, the base foundations of the bridge will have been solid enough to withstand those hits. Someone should…’’

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A distant explosion directly to the North cut him off, followed at five second intervals by three more explosions. Then, silence fell.

‘’It sounded like that submarine also targeted the base of the bridge’s northern tower. God, I hope that the bridge will hold steady! However, it seems that this submarine truly ran out of torpedoes by now.’’

Daniel soon put down his field telephone receiver and looked at his two comrades.

‘’The captain asks that one of us go check the state of the bridge’s tower base.’’

‘’Does he think that we are civil engineers or what? And how the hell are we to get to the tower’s base? It is nearly 400 yards from the shoreline. What a jackass!’’ Despite that protest, Rick did go down to the nearby shoreline, but could not see the southern tower’s base through the fog, as he had expected. Grumbling, he climbed back to the searchlight position and arrived there as their battery commander, Captain Virgil Oakley was jumping out of his jeep. Oakley was a graying man with nearly thirty years in the army, none of them spent in combat, who could at best be described as a very average officer who treated his soldiers like second class people.

‘’So, what happened here?’’ Oakley asked to nobody in particular. Rick took on himself to answer him.

‘’What must be a submarine fired a total of twelve torpedoes against the bases of the bridge’s towers, eight against the southern tower base and four against the northern tower base, sir. I went to the shoreline to look from closer but still couldn’t see through the fog, sir.’’

‘’And where is that presumed submarine now, soldier?’’

Rick stiffened with anger at the tone of that question, but managed to stay polite.

‘’We actually never saw it, because of the fog, sir.’’

‘’So, those explosions could have been anything, including explosive charges placed by saboteurs.’’

‘’No sir!’’ replied at once Rick, surprising himself. ‘’Each explosion was very powerful and had to come from a bomb or a torpedo, sir.’’

‘’We will see about that, soldier. I will go get a divers team, so that it could go inspect the bases of the towers. In the meantime, resume your duties and keep an eye open for any suspicious person around the shoreline.’’

‘’Yes sir!’’ said Rick, saluting. Oakley then left in his jeep, with the three soldiers watching him drive away.

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‘’What a dickhead!’’ pronounced Rick. ‘’Charges placed by saboteurs my ass! Hey, Dan, you were about to go get some hot coffee. How about going now?’’

‘’A good idea: this mist can really chill you out.’’

Dan didn’t have the time to make three steps before a new explosion, as powerful as the previous ones and coming from the same direction, shook the shoreline. As another explosion followed five seconds later, Rick understood what was happening.

‘’THAT DAMN SUBMARINE: IT TOOK THE TIME TO RELOAD ITS TORPEDO TUBES AND IS NOW FIRING A SECOND SALVO!’’

‘’MY GOD, WHAT CAN WE DO? THE BRIDGE WILL NEVER SURVIVE SUCH A REPEATED POUNDING!’’

Out of desperation, the three soldiers lit up their giant searchlight, but managed only to illuminate large patches of nearby fog. Silence fell again after a total of twelve new explosions, making Rick slam angrily his fist against the concrete parapet of his position.

‘’What the hell are our radar operators doing? Our guns should have fired on that submarine by now.’’

To his fury, none of the dozens of coastal defense guns protecting the approaches to San Francisco Bay fired once, nor did any of the underwater mines placed specifically to prevent submarines from entering the strait while submerged detonate. The night then fell around the three frustrated soldiers, with the fog slowly dissipating around them. The wind, which had already been fairly strong during the day, picked up after Sunset and became gradually stronger, eventually reaching gusts of sixty kilometers per hour. As it was designed to do, the bridge absorbed that wind by flexing and swinging a bit around. However, this time growing noises of tortured steel overhead made the searchlight operators increasingly nervous.

‘’God, let’s hope that the bridge will stand.’’ wished Dan aloud. ‘’If it falls, it will be nothing short of a disaster for San Francisco.’’

‘’I hope that someone used his head and closed the bridge temporarily to vehicle traffic until it could be fully inspected.’’ said Jack, who was contradicted at once by Rick, who pointed upward at the headlights of cars and trucks rolling on the bridge.

‘’I’m afraid not, Jack. Traffic seems to be still as dense as usual.’’

‘’Damn it! Will anyone in Fort Scott finally start thinking with his brains rather than with his ass?’’

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As if his swearing had inflicted a final blow to the bridge, the noise of tortured steel suddenly turned into a horrible ripping noise. The three soldiers could only watch with horror as the mighty Golden Gate Bridge, which stood 230 meters above the water at the top of its support towers, started slowly toppling sideways towards the West.

‘’NOOO! GOD, NO!’’

Dozens of cars and trucks, their headlights still on, fell off the bridge’s roadway and down into the cold waters of the Golden Gate Strait as the bridge’s inclination increased. A last gust of wind gave the fatal blow to the massive structure, with the reinforced concrete bases of the two support towers nearly exploding under the stress, snapping clean with a horrible noise. The overwhelmed searchlight operators heard the terrified last screams of hundreds of people as their vehicles and the bridge fell in the water of the strait. Even then, the remaining patches of fog prevented the soldiers from being able to watch fully that drama. Dan was left nearly catatonic, while Rick couldn’t take his eyes from what was still visible of the remains of the bridge.

‘’Oh my God! Oh my God! There must have been thousands of people on the bridge when it collapsed. And the whole navigation channel is now hopelessly blocked: the port of San Francisco is completely bottled up!’’

Within an hour of the disaster, thousands of soldiers, sailors and policemen were called up to form rescue parties, in order to save those who had been on the bridge and were still alive. Unfortunately, the survivors proved to be few indeed. The last patches of fog finally cleared up during the night, allowing engineers and experts to examine the remains of the bridge and the waters of the Golden Gate Strait. What they saw completely disheartened them: the twisted mass of steel of the bridge and its long roadway completely blocked the strait, with parts sunken as deep as forty meters down, still precariously held from falling to the bottom by the partly cut massive steel support cables. Keeping such a disaster from hitting the front pages of newspapers or from the news rooms of radio stations was simply impossible and the news of the collapse of the Golden Gate Bridge and of the closing of San Francisco Harbor for an undetermined period of time soon reached the whole nation. The U-800 didn’t even have to wait to hear the radio news about it, which it eventually did anyway, to confirm the destruction of the bridge: Otto Kretschmer was able to snap a few pictures of the collapsed structure from a distance, through the lens of his watch periscope. He then exchanged a series of sober handshakes with his officers and men, realizing too well that this spectacular

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strategic coup must have cost many innocent civilian lives. However, the thoughts of the thousands of German civilians routinely killed by British night air bombings against German cities somehow assuaged his regrets then. After his crew had settled down from celebrating, Otto looked firmly around him at the men in the control room of his submarine.

‘’We just delivered a second hammer blow to the enemy, men, but our work is far from finished yet. We will next strike at the center of American naval power in the Pacific. Helm, head for Hawaii!’’

13:35 (Washington Time)

Tuesday, July 7, 1942

Cabinet conference room, The White House

Washington, D.C.

There were a lot of long faces this afternoon in the President’s cabinet conference room, including Admiral Ernest J. King, the Chief of Naval Operations. He entered the conference room with his two main fleet commanders, Admiral Chester Nimitz and Admiral Royal Ingersoll, to find seven other men already sitting around the big table. He recognized at once General Marshall, the head of the Army, his chief of staff, Major General Dwight Eisenhower, Lieutenant General Henry Arnold, the commander of the Army Air Forces, Secretary of War Henry Stimson, Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox and, finally, Harry Hopkins, the powerful and influential presidential advisor. They were all undoubtedly here as a consequence of the double disasters in Panama and San Francisco, which were now causing King endless headaches. A presidential aide then led King and his two fleet commanders to their assigned seats at the long table.

There were precious few greetings and pleasantries exchanged around the table as they all waited for the President, nobody being in a light mood today. After another three minutes the President entered the room, sitting in his wheelchair and followed closely by an elderly admiral whom King knew very well. While Roosevelt took place at the head of the table, Admiral William Leahy took place immediately to his right, marking him as a top participant. Roosevelt scanned quickly the faces of the men around the table before speaking to them.

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‘’Thank you all for coming, gentlemen. For those who would be wondering why Admiral Leahy is not in France as my envoy to the Vichy government, know that I intend soon to formally name him my personal chief of staff for military affairs.’’ Most around the table nodded their heads at that, the 67-year-old admiral being widely respected. Roosevelt then spoke again, wasting no time in coming to the subject of the meeting.

‘’As you all may have guessed already, this meeting is meant to discuss the impact of the double disasters in Panama and in San Francisco on our present war strategy. First, I would like Admiral King to describe to the rest of us the impact on Navy operations.’’

King, who had placed a thick file in front of him on the table, didn’t open it before starting to speak, having much more to say than just what was in the file.

‘’Mister President, while the destruction wrought in Panama and San Francisco is very painful to us, those incidents are only the latest ones to strike us along our coasts during the last seven months. I believe that the total damage we suffered from these incidents must be considered if we are to judge properly the impact on our naval operations.’’

To his intense displeasure, President Roosevelt cut him off nearly at once in an impatient tone.

‘’Yes, yes, I remember well enough the attacks against Portland and Boston, Admiral. What I want to know right now is the consequences from the attacks on the Panama Canal and San Francisco on Navy operations.’’

King nearly barked back at Roosevelt but managed to keep his temper…just.

‘’Very well, Mister President. First, about the attack on the Panama Canal. We now know that rebuilding the locks there will take well over a year and will involve some very heavy construction and civil engineering work, on top of costing a fortune. In the meantime, we have no choice but to reroute our ships traveling between the Pacific and the Atlantic Oceans down the coasts of South America and around Cape Horn. This adds over 12,000 nautical miles and six to eight weeks of travel, compared to the route through the Panama Canal. Most of our ships don’t even have enough range to do such a detour without one or even two refueling stops along the way. We were thus obliged to set up in a hurry secure port refueling points, one in the Falklands, the other in Peru. We could have set that last point in Chile but, as you know, the Chilean government’s sympathies towards Germany made a Chilean port a less than ideal spot to refuel our

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ships. The American bulk carrier ship that blew up in the Panama Canal locks was in fact hijacked by Germans from the submarine U-800 while in the Chilean port of Valparaiso.’’

Roosevelt made a face at those words.

‘’Yes, I know! I in fact had a few choice words for the Chilean President about his so-called neutrality in this war when I last spoke to him on the phone. But go on, Admiral!’’

‘’Thank you, Mister President! One of the direct impacts of having to reroute our ships around Cape Horn, on top of the time wasted, is the tremendous extra expenditure in fuel involved. Essentially, the fuel cost of transporting war supplies from our East Coast to our forces in the Pacific has doubled or even tripled, depending on what the destination in the Pacific is. This in turn has put huge pressures on our refineries to produce all that extra fuel and will also mean less fuel available to be shipped to Great Britain or Australia. Now, for the attack on San Francisco. It couldn’t have happened at a much worse time, as we were preparing to push against the Japanese in the Central and Southwest Pacific. San Francisco was by far our main supply and maritime hub for our resupply routes in the Pacific, especially towards Australia. San Francisco also housed a number of important shipyards and naval installations. Now, it is completely closed to shipping, something that will not change for months at the least. We could reroute some of the supplies for the Pacific Front through other ports, like Los Angeles, San Diego and Seattle, but those ports don’t have the capacity San Francisco had. This means a supply line to the Pacific with a much smaller capacity. Allied to our need to send any supplies from our East Coast around the Cape Horn, the total effect is a near stranglehold on our major operations in the Pacific. Particularly hard hit are our preparations for our incoming campaign in the Solomon Islands. We will now be forced to either delay that campaign by months, to take the time to accumulate the needed supplies and fuel, or to go at half cock and pray that what we have now will be enough. Personally, I think that the last option would be irresponsible and would risk the lives of our men needlessly.’’

Dwight Eisenhower then jumped in the conversation, earning himself an angry glare from King.

‘’Then, if sustaining an offensive in the Pacific has become so costly and difficult, why not simply curtail that offensive, switch to a temporary defensive stance in the Pacific and concentrate our resources on the European Front?’’

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King nearly went ballistic on hearing that and rose his voice to a near shout.

‘’We were first attacked in the Pacific, with thousands of our men either killed or wounded, and you are now proposing to let down our fighting men in the Pacific, so that you could send more help to the British? A truly fine suggestion, coming from a glorified staff officer who never saw combat in his whole career!’’

Roosevelt hurried at once to calm the spirits around the table, as Chester Nimitz was ready to add his opinion on Eisenhower’s suggestion to that of King.

‘’Please, gentlemen! Let’s stay civil! I have no intentions to abandon our men in the Pacific and certainly haven’t forgotten the painful losses the Japanese caused us.’’

‘’May I ask how much exactly this fuel crisis will cut out of the supply of aviation gasoline destined for my bomber force in Great Britain?’’ asked General Arnold as King and Nimitz still glared at Eisenhower. The Secretary of the Navy, Frank Knox, took on him to answer Arnold, listened to carefully by Secretary of War Henry Stimson.

‘’My logistics specialists are still calculating the exact amounts of fuel the rerouting of our ships around Cape Horn will involve, but I am afraid that everyone will soon feel the pinch from this, General Arnold. We cannot cut further the amounts of fuel used by our civilian industries and transport system, on pain of badly hurting our war production efforts, so that option is not a viable one. Using our railroad system to transport supply from the East Coast to the West Coast, instead of using ships, is not an option either, as our rail network is already heavily used and has very little extra capacity left in it. Our nation is fully engaged in the war effort and is pretty much working at maximum capacity right now. As incredible as this may sound, that lone German submarine has done way more damage to date to our nation than the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.’’

Those last words infuriated Roosevelt, who slapped his left hand on the table.

‘’And can you tell me why the Navy is seemingly incapable of finding and sinking that damn U-800, Secretary Knox?’’

Knox didn’t reply, instead looking at King for his help. The CNO in turn spoke to Roosevelt.

‘’Mister President, the truth is that this U-800 is no ordinary German submarine. From what we know of it at this time, it is the lone prototype of a new class of German attack submarine and its design can only be described as ‘revolutionary’. It is faster underwater than any other submarine in the World, can stay submerged much longer, is very heavily armed and has a very long range. That last point was in fact probably the

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reason why the German leadership selected it for its present mission, which ultimately is to carry some strategic supplies and technical data to Japan. To top it all, it is commanded by Captain Otto Kretschmer, who is acknowledged to be the best German submarine commander afloat right now.’’

‘’My God! You make it sound as if that U-800 is the Devil’s boat, Admiral King.’’ King made a wry smile at that.

‘’It certainly would deserve that title in my opinion, Mister President. I would probably congratulate this Captain Kretschmer for his imagination and daring if I ever meet him…before knocking him out cold.’’

 

17:40 (Western Pacific Time)

Wednesday, July 8, 1942

Cuban cargo ship M.V. ESMERALDA

Halfway between San Francisco and Hawaii

Captain Emilio Morales, master of the M.V. ESMERALDA, was at a loss about what he would do after reaching port in Honolulu and unloading his present cargo there. The destruction of the Panama Canal locks, announced on radio news since a week ago, had cut his planned return route back to his home port of Mariel, in Cuba. Worse, it left him with not enough money to pay for all the extra fuel he would need to buy to be able to return to Cuba via the Cape Horn, unless he found some very valuable cargo in Hawaii that would help him pay for that fuel. However, finding such cargo in Honolulu was far from being an assured thing. The alternative would be to stay in the Pacific for the months to come and carry whatever cargo he could find which would sustain his ship and crew. The maritime company which owned the M.V. ESMERALDA was not exactly rich, so getting much help from Mariel was not really an option for him.

Looking down at the deck of his cargo ship through the windows of the bridge, Morales couldn’t help smile on seeing that most of his female passengers were taking advantage of the good weather to enjoy some Sun and fresh air. ‘Madame’ Maria Ventura was headed for Honolulu with nineteen of her ‘girls’, in order to ‘go help serve the needs of the U.S. Navy there’, in her own words. All of Madame Ventura’s girls were young and most pretty, with a few of them truly worthy of the word ‘beautiful’. In a way,

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they represented some of the best that Cuba could offer and his small crew of fifteen men had been busy spending most of their cash money to buy some time with the prostitutes during the trip to Hawaii. The funniest part was that American authorities in Cuba had made no problems for Madame Ventura and her troupe, quickly giving them visas for Hawaii and validating the contract that she had obtained from an American businessman (in reality a member of the American Mafia) to go augment the ranks of the local Honolulu prostitutes, who were being run ragged trying to satisfy the needs of the tens of thousands of sailors, soldiers and aviators posted around Honolulu or passing by Pearl Harbor.

A surprised shout from one of his sailors, who was acting as bridge lookout, suddenly made him twist his head to port.

‘’CAPTAIN, SOMEBODY IS SENDING US A MESSAGE BY LAMP, BUT I CAN’T SEE ANY SHIP.’’

Seeing at once the blinking light that seemingly came from just above the waves to the port side of his ship, Morales raised his binoculars to his eyes. His blood froze when he understood where the light came from.

‘’THAT’S A SUBMARINE, SIGNALING US THROUGH ITS PERISCOPE. IT IS ORDERING US TO STOP AT ONCE AND TO REFRAIN FROM USING OUR RADIO, ON PAIN OF BEING SUNK. HELM, FULL STOP! ENGINES ON IDLE!’’ Morales then hurried to the port open bridge wing, where he used a signal lamp to reply to the submarine.

‘’Am stopping now. Please do not shoot. I have passengers.’’ He then anxiously waited to see what the submarine would do. Was it an American submarine intent on inspecting his ship? The American navy had proved very jumpy and nervous in the last days and weeks, for understandable reasons. On the other hand, the order not to use his radio didn’t match with that hypothesis. To the excitement of his female passengers lined up against the guard rails on the weather deck, a dark blue-green shape then started to emerge from the waves, creating a wide wake of white foam and bubbles. Morales gulped down hard as he saw that it looked like no American submarine he had seen before in the various American ports he had stopped into during the last months. The newcomer soon proved to look truly formidable, on top of being about as big as his cargo ship. At first, he could see no deck guns on the submarine, but that changed soon enough, as three separate gun mounts popped in the open,

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coming from under its weather deck through sliding hatches. Sailors then ran out via hatches on the forward and aft faces of the tall, well-profiled conning tower, going to the gun mounts and preparing them for possible action as the submarine maneuvered to get closer to the M.V. ESMERALDA. A new message by lamp, this time sent from the top of the submarine’s conning tower, made Morales order a crewman to go lower in place the port side access ladder of his ship. At that point, Morales decided to go down to the weather deck, in order to meet the eventual boarding party from the submarine. There, he was approached at once by Madame Ventura.

‘’Captain Morales, is this an American submarine?’’

‘’Uh, I don’t think so, Madam Ventura.’’

The Madame’s eyes opened wide at those words, while she covered her opened mouth with her hands, fearful.

‘’Don’t tell me that this is a Japanese submarine! Those barbarians would show no pity to my girls.’’

‘’I don’t think that it is a Japanese submarine either. I believe that it is probably German.’’

‘’A German submarine, here in the Pacific? But, that’s unheard of!’’

‘’That was true enough…until one of them blew up the Panama Canal locks and the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco.’’

The Madame took a deep breath, then looked at the approaching submarine, now maneuvering to come side by side with the cargo ship.

‘’That would be them? By God! Their reputation would make old Blackbeard22 proud.’’

‘’Well, for the little I heard about that U-800, its crew is said to have been correct with the few prisoners they took, so I think that your girls will be safe from any unwanted attention.’’

Maria Ventura was no idiot and knew the male psyche quite well, so she immediately understood the double meaning of Morales’ last words and nodded her head once.

‘’Then, I will make sure that those Germans will treat my girls right.’’

‘’Wait! You better tell them that those Germans will most probably stink of diesel fumes: all submariners smell the same after a week or two at sea.’’ Maria Ventura thought that over for a second before smiling to him.

22 Blackbeard: Nickname given to a famous pirate who roamed the Caribbean Basin in the 18th Century.

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‘’And you think that all the sailors and soldiers who came to visit my girls in Mariel washed before coming?’’

Morales laughed at that, then looked back towards the submarine as Madame Ventura went to join back with her girls.

Matrosen Gefreiter Emil Kinzel was standing on the forward deck of the U-800, ready with other sailors to tie mooring cables between the submarine and the cargo ship, when female shouts made him look up at the guard rails of the cargo ship. His eyes popped open and a grin came to his face when he saw about twenty young and pretty women, lined up along the guard rails and exposing their breasts while waving at the sailors on the deck of the U-800.

‘’Mein Gott! I think that we just found a treasure ship, guys!’’ On the covered open bridge of the U-800, the sight of those topless women was the last one Otto Kretschmer had expected and it left him stunned for a moment, while Ulrich von Wittgenstein, standing beside him, grinned widely.

‘’Well, that’s what I would call a nice welcoming party, Herr Kapitän.’’ Otto, who was of a serious nature and prized good order and discipline as much as duty and loyalty, proved less enthusiastic about that than Ulrich.

‘’Maybe, but we have things to do and we can’t afford to turn our submarine into a bordello, Ulrich.’’

It was the turn of Ulrich to look at his captain with a serious expression.

‘’Herr Kapitän, if I may. Our men have now been at sea for about nine weeks now and will be away from home for at least another ten weeks. They fought well while under heavy stress and I believe that they deserve a bit of a break. If you want me to, I can supervise visits by rotation to that cargo ship during the time it will take us to refuel, to ensure that our men respect discipline.’’

‘’Well, those women are obviously prostitutes, Ulrich, and our men don’t have American dollars with them to pay for their services. Do you propose that our men simply gang-rape those women?’’

‘’We may not have dollars, Herr Kapitän, but we have better: gold! We still have a sizeable stash of small gold ingots, meant to pay for fuel and supplies obtained from friendly suppliers during our trip to Japan. We could always be a bit overgenerous with our fuel payments.’’

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Otto smiled, amused by Ulrich’s proposed solution, and pointed at the port of call of the M.V. ESMERALDA, painted in black letters on its stern.

‘’This is a Cuban-registered ship, Ulrich. Cuba is officially an enemy of Germany in this war.’’

‘’Well, we could always fudge the ship’s log and write it down as a, say, Ecuadorian ship.’’

Despite his own serious personality, Otto knew that Ulrich was right about the need of his crewmen to blow off some steam during this long mission. He thus nodded his head after a moment of reflection.

‘’Very well, Ulrich. Arrange for tours by shift rotation on that cargo ship, but make sure that we first take care of refueling our boat and of replenishing our fresh foodstuff stores from the holds of that ship as much as possible. I will put you in charge of leading the initial boarding party with Hauptmann Margraff, so that you can liaise with the captain of that ship. Use the gold needed as you see fit, but don’t blow the bank! We may need some of that gold later on.’’

Ulrich came to attention and saluted Otto crisply, happy at his decision.

‘’Thank you, Herr Kapitän! I will take care of everything on that ship.’’ Ulrich then went to the starboard side access door of the open bridge and went down the steel ladder leading to the starboard catwalk, which went around the base of the conning tower and linked the forward and aft open decks of the submarine. He went next to the starboard forward deck access ladder and joined Hugo Margraff and his fully armed soldiers there. Margraff smiled to him while pointing up at the women on the deck of the cargo ship.

‘’Now, that is the kind of boarding I really like, Ulrich! Will the Captain let our men time to enjoy themselves while we will be aboard?’’

‘’He agreed to that and put me in charge of keeping the thing orderly and disciplined. He however wants the essential tasks of refueling and resupplying to be completed first. While I will liaise with the captain of that cargo ship, have your men search the ship for weapons and for any cargo of a military nature. Don’t hurt or brutalize the crew and passengers, unless of course they become violent or openly hostile. One last thing: the captain wants us to officially describe this ship in our mission logs as an Ecuadorian ship, and not a Cuban one. That is meant to help the, uh, financial arrangements we will make with the ship’s captain and the person in charge of these girls.’’

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‘’Understood! My men will be mum!’’

Satisfied, Ulrich then twisted his head to shout orders at Oberbootsmann Fritz Lent, who was the most senior non-commissioned man on the submarine.

‘’OBERBOOTSMANN LENT, HAVE A TEAM OF LOOKOUTS READY TO CLIMB TO THE BRIDGE OF THAT SHIP, TO ASSUME AN ANTI-AIRCRAFT WATCH FROM UP THERE. HAVE ALSO A REFUELLING TEAM AND RESUPPLY TEAM READY.’’

‘’YES, OBERLEUTNANT!’’

The submarine soon gently bumped against the side of the cargo ship, with its starboard deck access ladder slowly coming level with the cargo’s own access ladder. With ropes then quickly passed and tied between the two vessels, Ulrich jumped on the cargo’s access ladder and started climbing its steel steps, followed closely by Hugo Margraff and his six soldiers in full German Army combat regalia, complete with MKb 42(H) assault rifles. The merchant navy captain waiting for them on the deck of the cargo ship stiffened on seeing the heavily armed Brandenburg men, but managed to speak in an even voice, using his fair English while saluting Ulrich.

‘’Captain Emilio Morales, Captain of the M.V. ESMERALDA.’’ Ulrich also saluted, standing at attention and speaking back in a polite tone.

‘’Oberleutnant Ulrich von Wittgenstein, second-in-command of the Kriegsmarine submarine U-800. We are sorry for this inconvenience caused to you and to your passengers, but we wish to be able to replenish ourselves in fuel and fresh food from your ship. Could we go discuss the modalities of our visit up on your bridge, while my soldiers search your ship for weapons?’’

Morales nearly blew out air in relief on seeing that things would be handled in a decent and correct manner by those Germans.

‘’I would be happy to. I already told my crew to surrender any personal knife or other weapon in their possession. This way, please!’’

As the two naval officers walked together towards the ladder leading up to the bridge, Morales couldn’t help make a remark to Ulrich.

‘’I must say that your men are quite intimidating, Lieutenant.’’

‘’They are and you would be right to be careful with them: they are elite commando soldiers from the German Army, not simple armed sailors.’’

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‘’Oh!’’ said simply Morales. Both were soon inside the bridge of the cargo ship, with four lookout men from the U-800 joining them a minute later, taking positions on the open bridge wings. Ulrich went to the ship’s chart room with Morales, where he faced the Cuban ship master.

‘’First, Captain Morales, let me reassure you: we do not intend to sink your ship or hurt your crew and passengers, unless someone acts really stupidly. With this said, we are ready to financially compensate you within reasonable limits for the fuel and food we will take. How much diesel fuel do you have left aboard and how much of it would you need to safely arrive in Hawaii?’’

Impressed by this obvious goodwill, Morales answered at once while going to grab the clipboard hanging on a wall, on which his cargo manifest and export permits were attached.

‘’I have enough fuel left for my diesel engines to get to Hawaii and then return to the American West Coast with a good safety margin. If I could refuel in Hawaii, then I would have up to 380 tons of diesel fuel available for you. Would that be enough to top off your submarine?’’

Ulrich smiled at that, satisfied.

‘’That would be more than enough, actually. My men will thus start transferring fuel at once after we are finished here. Next, could you show me your cargo manifest?’’

‘’Here it is, Lieutenant.’’ said Morales while handing over his clipboard to Ulrich. ‘’All of my cargo was destined to be offloaded in Honolulu. As for the women you saw on the deck, they are passengers on this ship. Their Madame has a contract to bring them to Honolulu, where the street girls are said to be badly overworked.’’ Ulrich laughed briefly at that.

‘’I can understand that, with the thousands of extra American sailors and soldiers now going through Hawaii in the last months. We actually intend to make a deal with that Madame later on, so that my own sailors could enjoy some richly-earned entertainment time. About your cargo, do you have any military-related supplies or equipment as part of it? If you do, then it would become liable to be destroyed or seized by us, according to the laws of war.’’

‘’I understand your point of view, Lieutenant. While I don’t have military weapons or equipment per say aboard my ship, I do have some cargo destined to a couple of units based in Pearl Harbor.’’

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‘’Oh?! Could you show me these items on your list, please?’’ said Ulrich, suddenly most interested.

‘’Certainly, Lieutenant!’’ replied Morales, who then underlined a few select lines on his manifest with a pencil before passing the clipboard to Ulrich, who avidly looked at the manifest. What he saw made a big grin appear on his face and he then looked up from the clipboard to smile to Morales.

‘’This is quite an interesting manifest you have, Captain Morales. We will be most happy to relieve you of those items destined to American military units, but we will in exchange compensate you for them and for the fuel and food we will take. Just don’t reveal to the Americans that we paid you for them: maybe they will also compensate you if they believe that we simply confiscated those supplies.’’

‘’And how are you planning to pay me, Lieutenant? German money is not exactly accepted around American territories these days.’’

‘’Oh, but we have much better than Reichsmarks with us, Captain Morales: we have gold!’’

Morales’ eyes popped open and he grinned when Ulrich took out of a cargo pocket of his leather vest a number of small gold bars.

‘’I have more of these aboard my submarine, plenty enough in fact to reimburse you, even after paying up your Madame and her girls. So, do we have a deal, Captain Morales?’’

‘’Between that and earning myself a torpedo, I would be stupid not to accept, Lieutenant!’’ replied fervently the Cuban ship master.

‘’I thought so too, Captain Morales.’’ said Ulrich, who then took a folded sheet of paper out of a vest pocket, making Morales look at it with curiosity.

‘’And what is that, Lieutenant?’’

‘’But, an official Kriegsmarine requisition form, of course! You don’t want to show up in Honolulu and not have all the proper papers ready for the American customs officials, do you? We Germans believe in efficiency and accountability.’’

Otto Kretschmer was present on the forward deck of the U-800, supervising the transfer of fuel from the cargo ship, when Ulrich returned to the submarine, closely followed by six sailors carrying the first of many crates and boxes taken from the cargo holds of the M.V. ESMERALDA.

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‘’So, Ulrich, did you find any foodstuff item of interest aboard that cargo ship, apart from nineteen willing prostitutes?’’

‘’I certainly did, Herr Kapitän! On top of the 215 tons of diesel fuel we are going to transfer over to our submarine, I confiscated part of the cargo, which was destined to American military units in Pearl Harbor. Here is the list of items of interest that we found aboard.’’

Otto had a quick look at the list, only to make a double take out of surprise.

‘’Forty tons of Cuban cigars? FIVE HUNDRED TONS OF CUBAN RUM?’’ The rest of the list, while still of high interest, proved a bit less dramatic, with 290 tons of fresh or canned fruits and fruit juices, 230 tons of Cuban coffee and 1,100 tons of refined sugar and molasses. Ulrich made one of the sailors following him come forward and put down two wooden boxes on the deck. Opening the boxes, he took out of them one hard cardboard box and one bottle inside a closed protective cardboard tube. He took out first the bottle from its tube and opened the cardboard box before presenting them to Otto.

‘’Part of the cargo was a special shipment addressed to the U.S. Navy’s officers’ mess in Pearl Harbor. I could not in all conscience let those items reach their destinations without confiscating them, Herr Kapitän. We will thus be transferring to the U-800 4,000 boxes of Cuban luxury cigars, plus 2,400 bottles of Ron Caney Extra Añejo old rum and fifty kegs of Ron Caney Especial rum.’’

Otto first took one long cigar from the opened box and reverently sniffed it like the connoisseur of cigars he was.

‘’We certainly could not let enemy officers enjoy such cigars, Ulrich. I will do my best not to consider this as an attempt to bribe me, although you certainly hit on the right tactic if that is what you wanted to do.’’

‘’Me, trying to bribe you, Herr Kapitän? Never!’’

Both of them chuckled before Otto took the bottle of rum offered by Ulrich and examined it with glee, then opened it to sniff the liquor inside.

‘’Ahh, a true nectar indeed! Just make sure to have that rum kept under key and that its distribution be carefully monitored: the last thing I need as we will approach Pearl Harbor is a drunken crew.’’

‘’Our men are professionals, Herr Kapitän. I am certain that they will understand the need for restraint. However, even small periodic rations of that rum will do wonders for the morale aboard our submarine.’’

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‘’Agreed! If our good assistant-cook and baker Gustav Bouhler wishes to try his luck at doing some rum cakes, then he has my benediction for doing so, especially now that we will have plenty of refined sugar and molasses in our stores after this.’’ Ulrich then approached Otto further and lowered his voice to a near whisper.

‘’Should I book a, uh, appointment for you with one of the passengers of the cargo, Herr Kapitän? I was planning to start sending up our men in rotation after supper.’’

Otto thought his answer over for a moment before shaking his head.

‘’No need for that, Ulrich: I want the men to believe that I am married to this boat.’’

‘’Are you saying that you aren’t yet, Herr Kapitän?’’ replied Ulrich in jest, a smile on his lips.

The U-800 ended up detaching itself from the M.V. ESMERALDA seven hours later, in the obscurity of a quarter moon night. With Madame Ventura and her girls waving goodbye from the weather deck of the cargo ship, the submarine then quickly sank out of sight under the waves, with many men aboard the U-800 letting out broken-hearted sighs.