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Soon it was all over as they all lay around the room, dead.

Rauch had been right early on. This was an important mission… extremely important. This was so significant that there could be no survivors to report on it. So all twenty-six witnesses were now silenced along with all of the other teams of soldiers that had completed the same mission, with more to come. But the boxes had been delivered and were now on their way to safety. A high price had been paid. But these boxes contained riches and secrets beyond the dreams of men; riches that lead men to do the most evil things; riches that had made men do evil things since the beginning of time… Gold!

CHAPTER TEN

Wednesday, May 9, 1945
A Secluded Small Inlet on the Southern Coast of Brazil; 7:20 p.m.

Darkness was beginning to pull its curtain on the day as the German submarine U-1055 sat submerged about two kilometers offshore. As part of the Ubootwaffe, the U-1055 was a Type VIIC submarine, one of 568 boats commissioned. She was built at the F. Krupp Germaniawerft AG in Kiel, Germany and launched in early 1944.

In this deep dark hiding place the submarine was well hidden from anyone in the area. The air in the submarine was dank and musty; what one would expect after a several week journey from Germany with few opportunities to surface. To surface at sea was dangerous with all of the Allied shipping in the Atlantic. Along with the shipping came the deadly Allied destroyers and escorts, any one of them a mighty threat to the U-boat.

The men only knew they were off the coast of somewhere. They longed for a bit of fresh air but realized that staying submerged was their best and safest way to wait for their next move. The crew had not been told anything about the boat’s mission. Most assumed it was another search and destroy mission against enemy ships in the immediate area. But this seemed a bit strange to be sitting still under the water waiting. Waiting for what?

The crew’s morale had taken a hit during the long voyage with very little news. There was little news from home; no mail from family in three months. The last several times they refueled or restocked food, crew mail was not there. The crew had hoped this small respite was to meet another U-boat or transport ship to replenish their supplies with fresh fruits, vegetables and maybe even mail. But that was not the case.

The crew and officers knew the war was not going well. The bits of news gleaned from a few vague radio messages confirmed that the war in Germany was lost. Most of the sailors just wanted to get to the inevitable result so they could go home. That was a rarity for many in the U-boat service of Germany. Four out of five German U-boat sailors perished during the war. Those that served the U-boat fleet were aware of this nasty fact but never talked about it among themselves. To live was to beat the overwhelming odds of death.

But they worried about their families back in Germany. They worried about what the Allies and the Russians might do once the war ended. Would they take out their frustrations on the civilians? Punish those they thought aided the cause? Wild thoughts careened through the minds of the crew. These thoughts along with the sheer exhaustion of a long war took a huge toll on the men. The officers recognized this and tried to keep morale up.

They cruised underwater most of the time, surfacing only to clear the air when able. This meant their cruising speed averaged less than 7 knots (about 8 miles per hour). Surface supply ships transferred food and water to the U-boat so they would not waste time stopping in a port to replenish supplies. For that matter, what port would be open to a German U-boat in 1945? With Germany losing the war on all sides, only their Axis ally, Japan, welcomed them. But Japan was on the other side of the world and in a world of hurt as well.

Kapitän zur See Ernst Adler also did not want to give anyone a clue as to their destination. His orders were to simply sail to a point on a map and ensure only those necessary knew their course. The captain and crew knew nothing of their cargo, wrapped securely in heavy canvas and stacked throughout the close confines of the boat. Adler was like his crew; he just wanted to get this over with and go home.

Much had changed since they sailed several weeks ago from Rostock. Germany surrendered. Hitler was dead. Admiral Donitz took over as the Reichsprasident of Nazi Germany. After twenty days, he surrendered to Field Marshal Montgomery. Everything was in chaos. But the U-boat captain had his orders.

The orders were very specific. He was to deliver a load of cargo to a destination. He was to speak to no one. Only the first officer and navigator knew the course or terminus. Once at the destination, he would unload and await orders from the German commander on site. The crew knew nothing.

Ernst Adler knew the war was lost but told no one aboard. The coded message he received a few days before confirmed it. He had no idea about his next orders. He hoped there would be no orders. Then he could confer with his officers and crew to decide where to surrender. But those thoughts were for after the mission.

“Raise periscope,” Captain Adler ordered, glancing around the control room looking for his second in command. “Where is Hientz?” he asked.

“Here, sir,” answered First Officer Willie Hientz, popping up through the watertight hatch from below. “I was just checking our position with navigation.”

“All in order?” asked the captain, calm but clearly concerned.

“Yes, sir. We have reached our position.”

“Up periscope,” ordered Adler.

Captain Adler turned his attention to the rising scope and reached up and turned his cap backwards so that the bill would not interfere with his use of the periscope. He pulled the two side handles down snapping them into position perpendicular to the periscope tube still slowly rising from the deck. As the periscope rose into position, he draped his arms over the two handles and peered into the single eyepiece. The captain scanned the horizon about the U-boat and slowly settled his view back on the shoreline ahead. He reached over and changed his viewfinder magnification to 6x, trying to cut through the increasing darkness.

He could see that the U-boat was at the head of a small inlet. At the far end of the shoreline were several lights and he could barely make out two piers and several small buildings. There was nothing fancy about this “port”. It looked as though it was made for a fishing boat, not a U-boat.

“Willie, you have the information about the signals?” asked Adler.

“Yes, sir. We are to surface and signal the shore with two blue-colored light flashes at exactly 20.00 hours. Exactly ten seconds later we will be signaled with four white flashes. Our signal to proceed will be two blue light flashes followed by a red light flash. We are to maneuver the boat to the pier and report to the commander there.”

“Sounds pretty straightforward to me,” mumbled the captain.

“Sir?” asked Hientz, not hearing him.

“Very well,” Captain Adler said clearly this time, looking at his watch. “In two minutes we will see how this goes.”

“Yes, sir,” said Hientz. “Make ready to surface!”

The order was repeated several times as it was spread throughout the submarine. One could hear the crew moving into position and stowing non-essential gear. All eyes were on the captain as the remainder of the two minutes passed.

“Surface the boat!” ordered the captain.