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“Well, what do you think? Does the logbook have anything of interest to say?”

“Of interest?” LJ raised his eyebrows and smiled. “That’s the understatement of the year, old son. The text that you are now viewing on screen, shows a complete page or one-day if you like of the submarine’s journey. But, I have to say Nat, that this is, in my humble opinion, merely a personal diary of events and is most definitely not the U-boat official log. Korvetenkapitan’s Otto Sternberg, obviously felt uneasy about that final voyage. So much so, that he should try and cover himself in some way, I’m only guessing of course. But even so, what we have here is pretty sensational. The question is, how we are going to handle it?”

“What do you mean, handle it?”

“Here, take this remote control, if you push the blue button once, the next page will come up onto the screen. Read, what Sternberg wrote, it will make things somewhat clearer. I’ll go and get us some more tea and coffee.”

Nathan took off his glasses, and polished the lenses on a corner of the clean handkerchief that Annabelle had placed neatly in the breast pocket of his jacket, before he had left that morning. He looked up at the large screen and started to carefully read the translation of page one.

17th April 1945, St. Nazaire, France. I, Korvettenkapitan Otto Sternberg, wish to put down on paper my own personal account of the strange mission that I now find myself embarking upon. My crew and I have worked tirelessly throughout the day, loading into the cargo hold a number of small heavy metal ammunition boxes. The orders are very specific, and state that we are to proceed southwards and to surface just off the coast of Lisbon in Portugal. My command is U683. Gross Admiral Donitz has ordered me to pick up an official of the Gestapo and proceed to the island of Sicily in the Mediterranean, where we will rendezvous with a local fishing vessel. My passenger will be fully briefed, but the skeleton crew of ten men and I will be kept completely uninformed. He carries direct orders from the Fuhrer as well as endorsements of authority from Heinrich Himmler and Gross Admiral Donitz. I’m finding this hard, as Commander in charge of this submarine. I am to take all orders from him, without question.

Nathan pushed the blue button, scrolling through the next few pages. For nine days, Sternberg reported nothing more than routine sailing on the surface, using the cover of darkness at night, and then just below the ocean top during daylight hours, using the submarine’s Schnorchel mast.

This allowed the diesel engines to run while the boat was submerged and reduced detection by radar, it also enabled the batteries to be charged day and night while underway at speed. His course had taken him from the U-boat pens of St. Nazaire, down to Lisbon in Portugal and then back out into the Atlantic and southwards. He then made his way towards Africa, around the Cape of Good Hope and then northwards again, passing Madagascar on his way to the Red Sea. Through the Suez Canal and eventually out into the Mediterranean and the island of Sicily.

29th April 1945. 0345 hrs, just before dawn, Herr Kessler issued me with orders to come to the surface two miles off the coast of Sicily. We have rendezvoused with a small fishing vessel, and taken on board the mysterious cargo, which has now been placed in the hold, and is strictly off limits to everyone, including myself. I am placing on record, that under threat of execution, my First Lieutenant Dieter Schaffer and I, were ordered to use our twenty millimetre deck guns to fire on, and murder the captain and crew of the fishing boat, and then to scuttle his vessel. This is an extraordinary mission made even stranger by Kessler handing me two letters from Himmler and Gross Admiral Donitz. They inform me that the cargo we are transporting is an important religious artefact called the Spear of Destiny, and that its power will ensure the future of the Third Reich.

Nathan got up from the sofa after reading this entry, and walked around the office to stretch his legs. LJ came in with a tray of tea and coffee, and a plate full of sandwiches.

LJ said, “Here’s some more tea and coffee, and I thought a sandwich or two wouldn’t go amiss. How far have you got?”

“Up to where the submarine rendezvoused with the Sicilian fishing boat. What an appalling business that must have been?”

“I agree, but we mustn’t forget, those were very fraught times Nat. You know as well as I do, that given the nature of the sub’s mission. Well, they would have had to maintain absolute secrecy and it would have been that Gestapo fellow Kessler who would have stopped at nothing to meet that objective. But, don’t think for one moment that I’m condoning what happened all those years ago, quite the contrary.” LJ said, as he simultaneously sat down, and picked up a ham sandwich, devouring half of it in one bite. Nathan brought up the next entry and sitting on the edge of LJ’s desk continued to read.

29th April 1945. 0420 hrs, we have got underway immediately, for our return voyage. I envisage using the Strait of Gibraltar to take us back out into the Atlantic Ocean with a clear run up the coast of Portugal and France, and then in to the English Channel. My orders are to proceed with no radio contact for the duration of the journey.

29th April 1945. 2100 hrs, Herr Kessler has come to my quarters to inform me that the island of Jersey will be our final destination, and has requested to see the chart for that area of the English Channel. He instructed the most northern side of the island for us to surface. He gave no indication or reason why we are doing this.

The two men sat at either end of the sofa eating their way through the plate of ham sandwiches while reading the Korvettenkapitan’s account of the uneventful journey back up to the island of Jersey. Nathan scrolled through the daily entries, until he came to the final one.

8th May 1945. Midnight. I have just been on the bridge with Kessler, and he has been signalled from the shore by spotlight. I feel apprehensive as his orders are very precise, but go against everything that is sane. We are to move our position to within fifty metres off the hostile and violent looking shoreline, and to then dive at high tide to the seabed, that is, only twenty to twenty-five metres in depth. This gives me concern because, although the ocean tonight, is relatively calm and the wind light, I can see that the waters around this island are unpredictable, and can still be very shallow in places. When in position, we are to proceed all ahead slow towards the shore for exactly three minutes. I believe these to be the orders of a mad man.

Below this final entry, were a few hastily scribbled words slanting across the page.

Have come to the surface inside a large cave, SS troops waiting, and have ordered us to open cargo hatch. Everything starting to shake, rocks are falling, and mist everywhere. May God take pity on our souls, for I know, that we are all going to die.

“And he was right, they did all die. But what puzzles me, is where are the remains of the U-boat crew and all of those SS troops, now? Something must have happened so quickly that they had no time to escape. Leaving them, and the submarine trapped inside that cavern where you found her.” LJ said.

“It certainly looks that way, but what about this for a theory.” Nathan said. “Could it be remotely possible, and I know this is going to sound absolutely potty. But, just suppose for one second, that when those Nazis opened up the cargo hatch. Just consider, what if this spear that they were transporting, really did have magical powers?”

“Umm, I’ve given that a second’s thought Nat. And I fear old friend, that it’s a little far fetched, even for you. But I still find it hard to believe that no one has ever discovered this cavern and the sub before.”