“Anything on the radio, Willi?” He asked his second in command. They had been out of radio contact with their High Command for five days.
“Nothing, sir. It is kaput! We do not have the necessary spare parts and we have not been able to improvise.”
“Very well. It cannot be helped. Call the crew to action stations. In the next ten minutes I expect to deliver a present to our enemies.” He grinned mirthlessly.
The group of British ships steamed closer. At their head was an old and tired looking destroyer which must have first seen service more than twenty years ago. Two smaller frigates were scuttling around somewhere to the rear of the convoy.
Schiller had watched patiently. He was now ready. The enemy merchant ship had not changed course and U-48 was in a perfect position. He thumb rested on the firing button. It was time.
Sudden consternation and momentary panic seized him! ‘What the hell….’?
Captain Henry Nicholson on the destroyer HMS Arbroath scanned the seas ahead through his binoculars. He was completely and utterly tired out. Since the convoy had left Halifax in Canada nine days ago, he had had little rest. Just an hour or two here and there. Always on the alert for the hated enemy submarines. The sharks of the sea.
The signal he had received two days ago, ordering no offensive action should he sight an enemy vessel, had baffled and worried him. ‘What the hell am I supposed to do if a U-boat appears on my bow?’ he thought. ‘Smile and wave?’
“SUBMARINE OFF OUR STARBOARD QUARTER”, shouted the lookout urgently.
In three swift strides Nicholson was on the bridge starboard wing staring in disbelief at the German U-boat surfacing about six or seven hundred yards away.
“ACTION STATIONS.” He pressed the alarm and the unearthly din of the klaxon horn reverberated throughout the ship sending the crew scurrying to their allotted stations. There was no one among the crew that did not know what the alarm signified, and accordingly they all experienced a sudden spasm of fear.
“Starboard one twenty degrees, full speed ahead.” The destroyer turned hard towards the enemy sub.
“They are signalling sir,” his first lieutenant reported in amazement. This was a first! He read the Morse code as it was spat out of the blinking German Aldiss lamp.
On U-48, Captain Schiller watched in astonishment through his periscope as a submarine surfaced less than 50 metres in front of him. Another second and it would have received his torpedo. He read its number. U-37. He knew its captain, Peter Braun, well. What was he playing at?
Three people appeared in U-37’s conning tower. He recognised one of them as Braun. Another was signalling him. A third seemed to be signalling the British destroyer, which was now turning towards him….
“U-37 to British destroyer. We have orders from our High Command not to attack British ships. One of our sister submarines has been out of radio contact for some days and is unaware of this order. We have found them, and are now in communication. Please stay back,” the first lieutenant relayed to his captain.
Nicholson reacted instantly. “Reduce speed. Tell Guns no firing. Signal the other escorts to keep an eye on the situation, but to maintain their current position. Acknowledge the U-boat’s signal.”
He watched warily.
“ANOTHER SUBMARINE SURFACING, SIR”, called the bemused first officer. What the hell was going on?
Excitement surged along the length of the ship as anybody who could find an excuse to be on deck watched the impossible sight of two enemy submarines lying close together only five hundred yards from the guns of their ship. This was something to tell their wives and sweethearts! Cameras had been rooted out from various storage places. This was a unique photo opportunity definitely not to be missed.
The two sub captains seemed to be having a shouted conversation. This went on for a few minutes. Two U-boat captains surfacing close to the guns of an enemy destroyer, just to have a conversation? Nobody is going to believe this!
“U-37 signalling again, sir. Signal reads ‘U-37 to destroyer. Everything is now in order. U-48 and ourselves will depart on a course directly away from you. We will remain surfaced until convoy is out of sight. Please acknowledge.”
Nicholson felt relief surge through him, closely followed by disappointment and frustration. For the first time since the war started he had a chance to sink a sub, and his bloody hands were tied.
“Acknowledge” he ordered.
As he watched, the captain of U-37 saluted him, followed instantly by the captain of U-48. He returned the courtesy.
The two subs moved off. They were carefully watched by almost every sailor in every ship in the convoy until they were out of sight.
Only then did Nicholson relax — a little. “That was something you don’t see every day, Charles!” He said to his first Lieutenant. “There goes a brave man. He deliberately placed himself and his ship in great danger. His orders are somehow tied in with the ‘no offensive’ orders that we received. I wonder what is going on. Could it be peace?
Then, with a glimmer of a smile, “I think under the circumstances it would be in order to pipe ‘up spirits’. The hands will appreciate an extra tot of rum. Inform the escorts accordingly. I will be in my cabin. This would appear to be a good opportunity to catch a little sleep.”
Ten minutes later he was in his bunk and out to the world!
On board U-48 Captain Schiller explained the situation to his mystified crew. He looked at their trusting faces and his heart went out to them. They were tired and dirty. With U-48 nearly at the end of its cruise, all of them needed some rest.
U-48 lying surfaced and unmoving, directly under the guns of the British warship, had been unnerving. His men deserved to know what was going on. Not that he knew much himself.
After he had finished speaking, a voice towards the back said, “Its peace. I tell you, it is peace,” After a second’s delay everybody excitedly started talking at once. There were even some smiling faces. Maybe they would live through this war, after all.
Schiller would never know how close he had come to re-starting the war between Germany and Great Britain. If that had happened, who knows where it might have led. Possibly even another World war?
Lord Halifax had positioned his personal secretary by one of the windows in the dining room. From there he could see the summer house. He had been instructed to let everyone know when the Germans arrived at the meeting point.
At eight fifty five, he called out “They have arrived.”
Nobody wanted to give the impression of nervousness, so they all finished doing whatever they were engaged in. Halifax and Brooke finished sipping their lukewarm tea, Blackstone and Smyth closed the files they were pretending to read.
“Shall we go forth and do battle?” Quipped Halifax, with a slight but somehow reassuring smile on his face. He was in his element. He was sure he could secure a treaty acceptable to both sides. This would be his crowning achievement in politics. Then perhaps he could think about retiring to his beloved country estate.
They stepped outside into the glorious early summer sunshine.
The first meeting of the two sides was only a little strained. It had been a long time since the two nationalities had met, other than on a battlefield. Baron Von Altendorf and Lord Halifax greeted each other warmly with murmured “Good to see you again,” before introducing their respective associates.