“Surface the boat, aye, sir!” returned the first officer.
“Blow ballast!” shouted the first officer.
“Aye, aye, sir,” came the reply.
The crew jumped into action as they opened valves, pulled levers, bringing the once silent U-boat to life. There was a loud hissing sound as high-pressure air forced the water from the ballast tanks, causing the U-boat to shudder slightly as it began to rise. The captain held on to the periscope, checking all around the horizon as the boat shifted as it began its journey to the surface. All was clear.
“Down periscope!” commanded the captain. “Hientz, post a normal watch and join me on the bridge.”
“Aye, sir,” answered Hientz as he watched the crew move into position by the ladder. One of the crewmen climbed to the top of the ladder and began to turn the locking mechanism to open the hatch.
As the U-boat broke the surface, the crewman pushed open the hatch receiving a face full of warm salt water. He did not hesitate as he and two other crewmen with binoculars and dressed in black rocketed up the ladder and took their posts. The lookouts stationed themselves in their perches on the sides of the bridge and began immediately scanning every direction, paying particular attention to the sea behind them.
“All clear, sir.” The quiet call came from one of the lookouts. Another all-clear signal came from the second lookout. Adler turned to his first officer and moved over to the ladder.
“Well, let’s go see what our answer is,” said the captain as he turned his cap around and grabbed his watch binoculars from the bin behind the ladder to the deck above. He hopped up a rung and a few hops later emerged on the wet deck of the conning tower of U-1055 with the first officer immediately behind him.
The men were greeted by clear, dark sky with the submarine lying within sight of the pier area. As the lookouts continuously scanned the area in all directions, the captain turned to Hientz.
“Still all clear, sir,” quietly reported one of the lookouts again.
“Lookouts report all clear, Captain,” Hientz relayed to the captain.
“Very well. Break out the signal device.”
Hientz opened a small locker on the bridge and pulled out a signal gun. He wrestled with the colored lenses, finally picking out the blue one. Placing it on the top of the rail, he pulled out the power cable, flipped open the power socket and plugged in the signal gun. He placed the blue lens on the opening.
“Signal the pier,” said the captain as he brought his binoculars up to watch for the response.
Hientz raised the signal gun, made a second check to see that the blue lens was attached, pointed it toward the shore and flashed the gun twice and started a ten-second countdown in his head. Everyone was silent as they waited. 3, 2, 1… the four white flashes came in from the pier.
“So far, so good,” said the captain.
A few seconds later they see a blue light flash twice followed by a single red flash from the pier.
“Okay, take us in, Willie,” said the captain as he let his binoculars fall to his chest.
“Aye, sir,” answered the first officer. He bent over to get closer to the bridge microphone and keyed the microphone. “All ahead slow, bearing 230 degrees.”
“All ahead slow, bearing 230 degrees, aye, sir,” a raspy radio response came from the control room below. Almost instantly there was a slight vibration as the electric engines kicked in and the U-boat began to slowly move toward shore.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Leutnant Udo Trox lowered his field glasses and turned to an orderly. “Go tell the major another U-boat is coming in.”
“Yes, sir,” snapped the orderly as he immediately turned and strode purposefully toward the command building about 25 meters away, nestled under several large trees surrounded by jungle. From above, the command building was impossible to see. And that was the way the Germans wanted it. Even from ground level the small building had been built under several trees with low branches. At first glance anyone coming down the small inlet would never see the building unless they knew exactly where to look.
This post was secret. So secret only a mere handful of officers back in Germany even knew of its existence. Now, with the fall of Germany, even less knew of the base. And they had so many other issues on their mind, such as survival, that they did not care about this God-forsaken place. Those “lucky” enough to be here were now wondering about their futures with only scant information about home getting through.
Leutnant Trox stepped over to a makeshift desk near the end of the pier and switched on a red-lensed small flashlight and checked his records quickly. Then he switched the light off. There was a single light bulb hanging above the desk but they did not want to use it and reveal their location. For weeks now U-boat after U-boat had come in, unloaded their cargo and sulked away into the darkness. He wondered how long this parade would last. He wondered what was in the hundreds of boxes and their destination. But he knew better than to ask any questions; that is if he valued his own life. The base commander, SS Sturmbannführer Kurt Bayer, the Gestapo and the hundreds of heavily armed crack SS troops that lurked around the base made him decide that he would do his job and not get involved in anything else. Anyone who crossed the Gestapo had a tendency to disappear, never to be heard from again. Trox simply wanted to get home; the sooner the better. Little did he know that there was little home to go back to. The home he had left behind was quite different now. He had no idea that Germany had been defeated, Hitler was dead and the Allies swarmed all over Germany.
The leutnant looked up upon hearing footsteps on the gravel drawing near. It was Major Bayer and Karl Grimme, the Gestapo man in the black uniform.
“Have you dispatched the trucks, Leutnant?” barked the major as he strode onto the pier, his boots clopping loudly as he marched down to the desk.
“Yes, sir, the trucks are coming around now with enough men to load everything.”
Grimme stood quietly behind the major with a devious smirk that the leutnant simply hated. It reminded Trox of a weasel. Gestapo were seriously scary and dangerous people. Trox wondered if they were people at all; just animals.
Some of the things the leutnant saw Grimme do were just horrible. Grimme had personally taken a young private who asked a few questions over by the water’s edge and slit his throat ear to ear, nearly cutting his head completely off. The leutnant would never forget the look on the private’s face as he realized Grimme executed him right there without any emotion and without anyone else saying a word to stop him; especially the major, who stood there shocked and speechless. Grimme stood over the private as he bled out into the water. Then he ordered several men to put the private in a boat, tie bricks to his body and dump him in the ocean. After that, no one asked any questions… period!
Karl Grimme stood just over 6 feet, 4 inches tall. His closely cropped dark hair and dark eyes made him a poster child of the perfect Gestapo agent. His small spectacles made his face seem smaller. His early devotion to the party was solid and unwavering. At twenty-eight, most would think he was young, but the last 10 years hardened Grimme. He could kill without any hint of remorse if duty called him to do so. He was ruthless, clearly not a man to push in any way. He carried out his orders to the letter no matter how harsh anyone else would think they might be. Karl Grimme was in charge here. He was not the ranking officer but he was in charge. Make no mistake about that.
The humming sound of the approaching U-boat was louder, now just about 20 meters from the dock. Even under electric power the slow approach of the large U-boat caused waves larger than normal to lap the shore. Leutnant Trox saw several crewmen scurrying around the deck as they readied the various lines needed to tie off and secure the U-boat to the dock. His own men ran about to get into position to catch the lines. He turned to see several trucks coming down the dirt road to the left of the command building. He was relieved that unloading could begin immediately. Even though it would not have been his fault, late trucks would have infuriated Grimme. Trox definitely did not want to go down that road. He knew that when Grimme got mad someone usually paid for it with their life.