Greed Kills the Best of Us
Wednesday, July 13th, 2005The following is in regards to Silent Hunter III - A WWII submarine sim that I’m hooked on, even if it does take ages to get places at 10 kts.
My fourth patrol - the second in my new Type VIIB - put to use its greatly extended range over the IIA on which I had served my previous command. We were to patrol grid AM51, off the western coast of Ireland and Great Britain. Certainly a better opportunity to find a convoy and other large targets than the eastern coast!
I chose the northern route around Scapa Flow and Scotland rather than dare the dangerous waters of the Channel. The weather was against us, too, with crystal clear skies that meant many tense hours scanning the horizon and the sky. Air patrols were light, but they appear so quickly and with so little warning that their appearance is always a nervous affair. We were spotted a few times, but their aim was off and we suffered no damage. I am not anxious to seeing what their bombs will do to my hull.
We did run across a couple of lone merchants and sank them, though perhaps I should ignore those smaller targets in rough seas when the deck gun is useless. As easy as they are to pick off, perhaps I should save my fish for convoys and larger ships.
As we approached our grid we received a report of a large convoy south east of our position. Curse our luck, we were too far away even at flank speed to catch them. A few hours later and we entered our patrol grid, quickly establishing a patrol pattern and settling in for the routine. There were no reports of anything for the next day and a half, so the merchant’s appearance after 36 hours was a welcome distraction, but didn’t herald anything more enticing.
After patrolling AM51 for 40 hours we went searching for more prey along the route to Liverpool. While slipping past a couple of British destroyers our sonarman caught the distinct sound of a merchant’s propeller. As I had expected, we were in a good position to intercept shipping heading out of Liverpool. We quickly dispatched 3 more merchants, making for a total of 7 ships (3 enroute, 1 in Am51 and 3 more here). At this point we were nearly out of torpedoes and I decided to begin the trek home, planning on stopping by Hartlepool on the way to sink any ships docked with my 3 remaining torpedoes and the deck gun (weather permitting).
High seas and driving rain were perfect weather for a full-speed transit, though it was hellish on watch. The storm and fog continued unabated for 2 days and we cruised right past the destroyers patrolling the entrance to Hartlepool during the night. As we closed on the harbor, we submerged and began to watch cautiously for the docks. We’d been here before and so had some decent charts, but we could barely see past the bow of the boat.
We slid in quietly and waited for daybreak. The horrid weather worked against us for the moment, since we could not see far enough to determine if there were any ships at anchor. Once dawn arrived, we were able to make out the shape of a C2 cargo ship. My original plan was to surface and take her out with our deck gun, but the seas remained too rough and we were forced to spend our last torpedo to take her down. I must admit to gloating as the unprotected ship sank in the shallow waters.
My greed and arrogance as we waited to make sure she sank proved to be our undoing, however. I had heard the call from the watch that we were being engaged, but we were taking no fire due, I imagine, to our proximity to the harbor. I ordered full speed and periscope depth, but to my horror as the watch dropped through the hatch they caught sight of a destroyer steaming full-speed towards us.
“Brace for impact!” I yelled as the destroyer bore down on us. Under my breath I whispered, “Scheiße.” I could see the scenario unfolding even as I prayed it would not.
My precious boat, U-47, was not diving fast enough and it was too shallow for a crash dive. Nor were we turning fast enough to get out of the path of the destroyer’s prow. There was nothing more I could do except hope for the best. The deafening sound of the destroyer plowing into the stern, near the diesels, was overwhelming and the ship wobbled like a child’s toy from the force of the impact. Immediately the crew reported flooding, but before I could even respond we had sunk to the bottom. The speed of the flooding was too great, there was nothing I could do…. all hands lost.
Fortunately this isn’t real-life, so I’ve reloaded and successfully completed my 4th patrol. This time I did not have any torpedos left to entice me to venture into a temptingly vulnerable port. I did manage to be too deep in some extremely shallow waters, however, and take some very minor hull damage (the internal damage was quickly fixed by the crew).
