More torpedoes   CHAPTER VII  MORE TORPEDOES Adam Werka, ORP "Orzeł". By courtesy of Mr. Andrzej Bartelski. Back Next I AM awakened by excited voices; every one is talking at once. I notice that even the greatest lovers of sleep are taking part in this conversation.
'Denmark was occupied without a shot being fired.'
'The invasion of Norway was resisted under the leadership of King Haakon.'
Those were the subjects under discussion.
After the events of the last day and night, news about the war in Norway is no surprise. The spirit of this nation left me in no doubt as to the course they would follow. We welcome our new ally and, shoulder to shoulder with all free-loving people we will, in due time, drive out of all occupied countries this brutal freedom-stealing enemy.
The morning news from London discussing the development of the situation on the new front makes it clear that the sinking of the Rio de Janeiro was the first serious German loss in this campaign.
'Their first, but by no means the last,' we add.
We did not submerge early to-day because of low-lying fog which screened us from enemy aircraft. Our hydrophones are working, and we are sure that no vessels are in the vicinity.
Eight o'clock finds us at normal periscope depth. The fog disperses as the wind rises. We see above us air-convoys. Thirty or forty old passenger planes, protected by a few fighters, make up one of these convoys. The route is always the same - from Germany to Norway and back. The return journey is made over and over again, even throughout the night.
'Hell! That we can't do something against them,' exclaims the First Lieutenant, looking through the periscope.'
'Perhaps, sir, some new destructive ray will be discovered to do the trick,' says Petty Officer Sz.
'Perhaps not,' snorts ' No. 1' who is not in good humour.
At noon three German patrol vessels appear in our sector. On approaching closer, we observe they are large trawlers armed with two guns; one forward and one aft. We notice they have several depth charges on their decks. There is no doubt as to what they are for. On each trawler at the gaff flies the Nazi colours. They are ignorant of our presence and are aimlessly patrolling these coastal waters, keeping in close formation, relying on numbers for their strength.
I am thinking that we shall be using our torpedoes again shortly. Unfortunately the Captain is not. It just means for the present there is nothing doing. We must be careful now in putting up the periscope in order to avoid being spotted by enemy aircraft, which are patrolling the area.
I take some more photographs of the Norwegian coast through the periscope. This work is interrupted by the appearance of a large hydroplane just above the submarine. I jump quickly back, crying 'Aircraft, sir!' at the same time taking in the periscope.
The war atmosphere grows stronger as the thunder of gunfire from ashore is felt again and again. One may call it music of war, another music of the twentieth century, but is it civilization, I wonder? Perhaps Hitler can supply the answer.
The evening hours are spent in the ward-room, playing chess with the First Lieutenant until supper. In spite of its being nine o'clock we are still submerged.
'Maybe some trawlers are still in our sector,' says one of the sailors, just as I am entering the crew space in the bows. No, in this case there is another reason, the Captain just says the German battleship Gneisenau with an escort of a few destroyers will pass through our sector.
This news stops Fatty's reminiscences of Warsaw. The readers put down their books, the players leave their games unfinished.
'Have you heard?' says Petty Officer Sz.; 'finally fortune's wheel is turning this way.'
'Do not be too sure,' remarks 'Star of the Sea'. This causes a dozen replies and strong epithets from all present, and 'you bloody pessimist' is not the worst, by any means.
'Imagine! to sink Gneisenau!' excitingly exclaims Sw.
'It will be difficult because of the escort,' Chief Petty Officer N. soberly replies.
'It is dark enough now, in my opinion,' I state, 'to fire a torpedo and get a direct hit. Of course, afterwards it will be another matter; we shall have a hot time from the escorting destroyers.'
'So long as the battleship is sunk, we do not mind what happens to us. We shall have achieved our object. Then, not we but they will be the debtors,' says the Torpedo Officer, coming into the crew space to examine the readiness of the torpedo tubes.
The telephone rings. I take the receiver. 'Is Chief Petty Officer St. there?'
'Yes, sir,' I reply, recognizing the Captain's voice. 'Do you want to see him, sir?'
'Call him to the phone, please!'
'Very good, sir.' I finish speaking with the Captain and pass the receiver to the Chief. Their conversation referred to the order of firing the bow torpedoes and the depth to which they should be set.
Now and again I look at my watch. Just past ten o'clock, nobody wants to sleep. All are wide awake and every one is excited.
'I would like a Corona,' squeaks 'Star of the Sea'.
'What for! getting the wind up?' says Marek.
'I forgot.' He apologized, mopping his beaming face with a piece of oily waste.
'Shut up, you make me tired,' replies Chief Petty Officer N., quickly leaving the crew space.
'This tense waiting is irritating,' I say. These remarks are understood as almost every one feels it in our sort of work.
The telephone rings again. 'The midshipman and the watch for the bridge are to be ready in ten minutes' time, for surfacing orders, First Lieutenant.'
The hopes of torpedoing the Gneisenau disappear, but may return again. The moon has set, visibility decreases. The Captain thinks it necessary to patrol on the surface as it gives greater advantage with speed and wider area of sight. Shortly the submarine begins to roll slightly. We feel the cool fresh air blown in by the circulators.
'Another night has gone,' says Marek. 'Our hydrophones were working all the time, though we have not heard anything. Such a pity!'
'What time did we submerge to-day?' I ask, for I was not aware the alarm buzzer had gone.
'After six o'clock.'
'What is the weather like?'
'Lovely. You know those patrol vessels; they are circling our sector again.'
'Why does the Captain not torpedo them?'
'He said he will. But to torpedo three of them at once is too much. We must wait until they separate.'
All right, in this case I will get up, I decide. First, I must repair the 'roof ' above my bed, which is leaking and consists of a temporary arrangement of a sheet stretched over my bunk. This simple solution has saved me from the larger drops from the deck-head. A precaution that's very necessary to avoid the inconveniences of a wet mattress.
'They separate! They separate!' I hear voices in the Chief and Petty Officers' mess.
'Who?' asks Fatty, just awakening at this moment.
'Gneisenau and destroyers,' replies Petty Officer Sz. ironically.
'Really!' 'Yes. Moreover, Hitler and his gangster staff are on board.'
Fatty hardly knows how to take this, as the torpedo personnel is standing by the tubes. Finally he gives up all hope of further sleep and decides to await events.
'Float number two and number three torpedo tubes,' is indicated by the coloured lights signal from the conning-tower.
Psss, psss - we heard twice, as the torpedoes fire.
A few seconds later a terrific explosion - one - two... Three altogether disturb the water around us, giving the submarine severe shocks and forcing us to hang on to the sides to keep our balance.
'Bombs from aircraft!' We recognize easily. We have no time to think about this, as two other explosions follow reminding us of our fired torpedoes. We have hit!
'Look, sir!' exclaims Petty Officer Sz., showing me the face of the depth gauge.
'I see!' The pointer marks ninety feet and is still advancing. One hundred! They have observed us. One hundred and fifty feet already.
There is a thrilling atmosphere in the conning-tower and control-room. The Captain tells us what he saw through the periscope, before submerging from periscope depth.
'Just after we fired our torpedoes the patrolling aircraft observed the traces on the surface, and it is quite possible they may have seen the shape of the submarine; the water in the fiord is as clear as crystal. This was the reason the bombs were dropped. Very lucky for us, only bombs, and not depth charges. They exploded on the surface, just above the submarine. Thirty feet of water, however, makes a good insulator.'
'What happened to the trawlers, sir?' asks the Torpedo Officer, very interested.
'I don't know. It seems to me I saw the first torpedo hit one of the trawlers, the second I have no idea what became of it. On the other hand, we all heard two explosions. For the time being we must use our imagination.'
The Captain's last remark was based on the assumption that when a torpedo fails to hit her target and goes a few thousand yards farther on, it sinks by an arrangement whereby a valve is automatically opened, letting in the water. The possibility of exploding on the bottom is very remote.
Good humour prevails in spite of our situation being precarious. We were detected by aircraft and liable to an attack at any moment by trawlers or anti-submarine boats, with no chance of help from any quarter. The moral of the crew is wonderful.
Two deafening sounds, coming from far away, stop the conversation.
'Depth charges!' was the opinion of the First Lieutenant. The next two explosions were much nearer.
'Hydrophones! Report to me every five minutes the result of your listening,' orders the Captain.' Keep at a steady depth of a hundred and fifty feet. Half speed ahead!'
At intervals depth charges are heard from different quarters, far away. We are shaken up, these being our first while on this patrol.
'Nothing but explosions to report, sir,' says the hydrophones operator.
'Very good; in this case we need only be concerned with aircraft, which is better for us,' replies the Captain. 'What has become of the trawlers? There must be one left.'
The First Lieutenant's opinion is that the trawler left is picking up survivors, against which the Torpedo Officer said that not many survivors remain to be picked up.
What has happened, really, we do not know. To ascertain we should have to come up to periscope depth, but just now this is impossible. We hear depth charges again, first from the port and then from the starboard side.
'No other help,' decides Lieut.-Commander Grudzinski. 'We must wait until dark before we surface.'
In the fore crew space Petty Officer P. tells us that once and only once he, with Petty Officer Sz., was sea-sick. 'It was one week after we came to England. We were returning to the submarine on the ferry. It was not late, the weather was fine and warm; on the ferry were a great number of civilian passengers. The surface of the bay was as smooth as glass, when Sz. ran to the side and well... The passengers became very curious.'
Explosions are heard much nearer now...
'We better not pay any attention to them,' says Petty Officer P., carrying on with his story. 'I was not conscious that my friend was sick and of the interest that was being taken in us. It was very embarrassing. Unfortunately we were in uniform, and it is only natural to suppose that they must have thought we had never been to sea, especially as we were both very sober-looking beforehand. The reason was that Sz. had mixed a special British cocktail of his own. Whisky and beer - to this he adds a little gin, while I put in some Australian wine, which was British too. Altogether it tasted very good, but after-effects were somewhat upsetting.'
'Better finish the story,' says Petty Officer Sz. 'This is a blot on my sea career. I shall be pleased if you will never mention it again,'
The conversation took another course. We talk about torpedoed trawlers and present events.
The explosions stopped in the afternoon. Some of the sailors sleep while others continue talking. The subject, for a change, is the new Polish Army being built up in France.
It is almost impossible to believe that in such a short time, from refugees, volunteers and reserves, there have been organized these Polish regiments and divisions. 'France must help them,' says some one from the corner.
'I don't think so, our army can look after themselves,' replies Chief Petty Officer N.
I say after a moment, 'I have been in France during this war - last November.'
'What's your opinion, sir?' I heard from all around.
'It's very unpleasant for me to speak about. I have liked France and still like her, but unfortunately no pleasant reminiscences come to mind from my last visit there. The people do not seem to understand the big effort Poland has put forward in this war, and it was very disagreeable for me when so many of them referred to the "trivial" resistance put up by our people...'
'It's very easy for them to speak like that, having the Maginot Line as their front defences,' interrupted Marek.
'France has been an empire for many centuries, and is not in the position to judge our country, which has been reborn after one hundred and fifty years of strife,' adds Chief Petty Officer M.
'You are quite right. I said all this to them and more, but the reply was always the same: "Your resistance was too short; only three weeks." '
'In spite of the fact that we had the Bolsheviks behind us?'
'Certainly. But I treated the subject with reserve as much as possible, although it was keeping me somewhat apart from them.'
'Only two German patrol vessels left.' Petty Officer Ol. brings the news from the control-room.
'It means that one has been sunk definitely?'
'Of course... Pity we don't know what happened to the second one.'
I had a quick look at the depth gauge. It is 36 feet. We are back to periscope depth. This surfacing is a normal procedure. The German trawlers have returned to harbour with the setting of the sun. Evidently they have no desire to go away from their friend.
Coming off watch I find my bunk closed up. In our space, unfortunately, we have to replace the torpedoes fired before noon. I am a 'nomad' and go and spend the night in the stern space.
Before I fall asleep I notice the calendar is dated 11th of April 1940. Midnight is past... © Modern Naval Warfare