Post by Admin on Sept 25, 2022 9:00:39 GMT 10
Cast
Kriegsmarine
Leutnant zur See Hans Heinrich Müller, Pilot, SeeKGr 1
Fregattenkapitän Horst Schmidt, Commander, SeeKGr 1
Kapitän zur See Wolfram Becker, Base Commander, Flugplatz Honningsvåg
Feldwebel Franz Schneider, Bomb Aimer/Navigator, SeeKGr 1
Maat Gerhard Fischer, Flight Engineer, SeeKGr 1
Obergefreiter Willi Weber, Gunner/Radio Operator, SeeKGr 1
Gefreiter Heinz Meyer, Tail Gunner, SeeKGr 1
Kapitanleutnant Helmut Mohlmann, Captain, U-571
Oberleutnant zur See Gustav Lussow, XO, U-571
Convoy
Captain Valentine Schaeffer, Commanding Officer, USS Bataan
Lieutenant Commander Jim Murray, XO, USS Bataan
Petty Officer Third Class Theodore Jenkins, Radar Operator, USS Bataan
Leutnant zur See Hans Heinrich Müller strode across the tarmac at Flugplatz Honningsvåg in Norway towards the HQ building in the morning light. Approaching the large structure, he saluted the armed guards who snapped to attention near the main door.
“Guten morgen Herr Leutnant” one barked.
“Guten morgen Joachim. A frosty start to the day, nein?”
“Nothing we can’t deal with Herr Leutnant”.
Müller walked through the corridors of the building until he reached the office of the base commander Kapitän zur See Wolfram Becker. He rapped on the door and stood back.
The door opened and Fregattenkapitän Horst Schmidt, SeeKampfgruppe 1’s commanding officer smiled broadly. “Hans, bitte, come in and take a seat”.
Müller entered and snapped to attention before the large mahogany desk that dominated the room.
“Guten morgen Hans, have you heard from your family in Berlin recently?”
“Guten morgen Herr Kapitän Becker. Thank you for asking, I had a letter a couple of days ago from Ilse and all seems well all things considered.”
“Excellent news, Hans, please take a seat.” Kapitän zur See Becker gestured to one of the large leather chairs in front of the desk.
Müller’s CO closed the door behind them and took up position in the other seat.
“You may be wondering why we’ve asked you to come in this morning and why you and your crew have been stood down from operations for the last couple of days.” Kapitän zur See Becker asked.
“Fregattenkapitän Schmidt told me that we had been selected for a special mission and that we were to be held back until such time as this was put into action. I have informed my crew that we are being held over for the moment but haven’t elaborated.” Müller replied.
“Excellent Hans, my faith in you continues to be validated.” His commander replied then deferred to the other officer.
“Ja most excellent.” The other replied. “Now, regarding this mission. I’m sure you’re aware that the Allies continue to attempt convoys through the Arctic Ocean in an attempt to stabilise their beach-head at Novaya Zemlya so that they might create a second front after the failure of the Soviets to stop our forces earlier in the War.”
“I had heard that the convoys were slowing down as our Wolfsrudel (German U-boot wolfpacks) were causing quite heavy losses, especially without any real air cover for them.”
“Quite so, the British have only been able to offer destroyers, cruisers and other smaller combatants and haven’t attempted to send their carriers along, knowing the chances of surviving the journey have become quite slim. Into this mix, our intelligence has determined that the Americans have authorised one of their older carriers to escort the next convoy from England following their successes against the Japanese in the Pacific. Naturally this presents an excellent opportunity for the Reich as the sinking of an American capital ship would definitely make them reconsider the use of their naval forces in such an exercise and put even greater strain on the overall Allied effort at resupplying.” The older man paused, scanning the younger pilot’s face.
“I see,” Müller replied, I’m assuming that this occurrence coincides with this mission my crew and I have been selected for?”
“Ah good, Fregattenkapitän Schmidt told me that you were an intelligent man and once again, his judgement proves to be sound. You have assumed correctly. You and your crew’s operational experience speaks volumes about your selection for the mission and your successes with the Henschel weapons in particular are what brings you here. Our intention is to have you fly a mission against the American carrier aided by one of our Wolfsrudel. Given the fighter cover the Americans would be able to deploy, the mission would begin with one of our U-booten shadowing the convoy until such time as they come within the extreme range of our Dorniers. At this point, you would launch and head towards the target area arriving near dawn. One of our U-Booten would wait for your radio call and then attack one of the smaller vessels in the convoy as a distraction. The hope is that the Americans would begin to launch their U-bootjaegers in an attempt to stop this attack rather than sending their fighters up. Their smaller ships always sail around the fringes of the convoy, but cruisers and, we assume, their carrier, would be more than likely within the convoy itself, protected in a similar way. Taking out one of these smaller ships would focus the attention of the defenders in that direction at which point your attack would commence. The range of the Henschel weapon would keep your aircraft out of flak range and with any luck, the strike would disable the carrier’s operations allowing the remainder of the Wolfsrudel to strike, take care of the convoy and send a very firm message to the Allies that sending their carriers into harm’s way has dire consequences.”
“A solid plan Herr Kapitän zur See Wolfram Becker. It also ensures that the Americans have no chance to launch their fighters against my aircraft, providing the carrier is effectively disabled. A strike against the vessel’s bridge might be most effective, but we also know that the American carriers have wooden decks unlike their British counterparts, so the opportunity to hit the vessel and disable their flight operations that way is also an alternative.”
“Hans, you continue to impress everyone around the Seeflieger community. Suffice to say, a successful mission will mean great accolades for you and your crew and further opportunities would be yours for the taking.” Kapitän zur See Becker replied, grinning broadly. “Please return to your crew and give them the general idea of the mission, but under the strictest confidence. We expect to be able to launch the mission at last light tomorrow so get some rest and best of luck!”.
The three men shook hands and Müller returned to his own quarters and began to prepare his own kit later going across to his crew’s barracks to inform them of the mission.
The evening light began to wane as Müller walked towards the flightline after gathering the necessary radio codes and other mission information from the operations center. He could see the black overalls of the ground crew bustling about the big Dornier, whilst his crew stood to one side, checking their own kit.
“Guten Abend Jungs. Ready for a little trip?” he grinned as he walked up to the men.
“Guten Abend Herr Leutnant, we’re good to go when you are. The schwarz männer (Kriegsmarine groundcrewmen) have just finished fuelling and prepping the big girl.” His bomb-aimer/navigator, Feldwebel Franz Schneider replied.
“Excellent Franz, we’ll preflight her and get going.” Müller replied.
The crew and Müller moved around the aircraft, checking hatches, airframe components, pylons and the big Henschel missile hanging below the port wing and the heavy drop tank below the right. Once satisfied, they boarded their plane and began their preflight routines.
The big Dornier Do 517E-2/R3 was a development of the successful Do 217 family with a quartet of engines and new, longer wing replacing the twin engines of the earlier aircraft. Following the progression of the smaller variant, the newer aircraft had begun with standard BMW 801s and stepped cockpit area developing into later variants with various engine combinations and then went into the streamlined cockpit of the earlier aircraft’s Do 217K/M variants. In addition to the new engines and wings, this aircraft also had a FuG 200 Hohentwiel radar set fitted along with a tail turret for rear area defence.
The ground crew went through their own routines as Müller and his crew completed their final checks. Firing the port outer BMW 801J engine, the big radial roared to life, sending a vibration through the heavy aircraft. In sequence, the other engines kicked over growling with power.
Finally a crewman dragged the heavy chocks away from the landing gear and waved to the aircraft. Müller released the brakes and advanced the throttles, moving the bomber away from the staging area to the main runway.
His radio operator called the tower for clearance as Müller settled the aircraft at the end of the runway, engaging the brakes and bringing the engines up to full power. The aircraft hummed with energy as the four radials reached their normal limit, straining against the brakes. Müller checked with the crew to ensure that everything was in order and then received the word from the radio operator. He throttled back the engines, performing a final visual check of the instruments then released the brakes, bringing the engines back up to power whilst his flight engineer moved the flaps to takeoff position.
The big Dornier rumbled down the runway, gathering speed as the tailwheel began to lift from the tarmac. Müller held the aircraft level as the raced further along until final rotation speed was achieved. He hauled back on the control column, lifting the big bomber into the sky as Maat Gerhard Fischer, the Flight Engineer raised the landing gear.
“OK Franz, give me a heading for the rendezvous point.”
“Jawohl Herr Leutnant, come to a heading of 021 degrees and climb to 13000 meters.”
Müller swung the nose of the bomber around and brought into a gradual climb, clipping his oxygen mask on as the crew did likewise.
“How’s everything back there Heinz?” he called over the intercom.
Gefreiter Heinz Meyer was the crewman assigned to the tail gun position of the bomber, sitting in the powered tail turret armed with a quartet of MG 151/15 heavy machine guns. This aspect of the Dornier was a marked change from the earlier Do 217 and most other German bombers with tail armament routinely absent or remotely fired from within the main cabin. The first Do 517 had a gun position similar to the Heinkel He 177 bomber armed with a single weapon, whilst later variants attempted to return the gunner to the main cockpit with remote turrets, although in the newer variants, this fell by the wayside, returning instead to the manned turret, albeit with heavier powered weapon fittings.
“All good here Herr Leutnant” Meyer replied, watching the dark base disappear into the murk as the Dornier climbed into darkening sky.
“Excellent Heinz, keep me informed of any issues”. Müller called.
The crew settled in as the big Dornier climbed into the night sky each man busy with their own roles, Müller setting the autopilot for the transition to the target area.
A convoy of ships crashed through the icy waters of the Barents Sea in the murky light of the pre-dawn. Small destroyers slid along the flanks of the convoy and out ahead, searching for the ever present threat of German U-Boats. In addition to the usual retinue of light combatants, this convoy also was escorted by the USS Bataan, a light carrier that the USN had grudgingly allocated to the convoy to help with the escort.
Aboard the Bataan, Captain Valentine Schaeffer stalked into the radar shack, already in a foul mood from being seconded into convoy duty. “God-damn it Jenkins, what in the living hell is wrong now?!” he bristled.
The young sailor manning the CXAM radar, Petty Officer Third Class Theodore Jenkins blanched under the tirade. “Sorry sir, we’re having issues with the system cycling correctly. I can’t put it down to anything specific, but the set goes faulty without warning.”
“Fucking radar…. Everyone thinks it’s so God-damned important but never mentions when it doesn’t work.” Schaeffer was a veteran of the Navy, serving well before the outbreak of WW2 and was somewhat infamous for his disdain for many modern technologies or other systems. “Given that it’s zero visibility outside, I’d suggest doing something quicker than this sailor. These God-damned Kraut U-Boats we keep on hearing about are bad enough without being completely blind in this muck. We can’t even put up a CAP (combat air patrol) until this weather clears so any Kraut battlewagon or sub could have a fair field day before we knew what was going on.”
Turning to his XO, he continued his rant. “Jim, I don’t give a rat’s ass how long it takes but stay here and make sure these braniacs get this fucking radar up & running.”
The ship’s XO, Lieutenant Commander Jim Murray grimaced, “Aye sir. We’ll get it done.” He replied coolly as the senior officer barged through the door, heading back towards the bridge.
Looking at the young sailor, he laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Jenkins, let’s get this sorted out soon, right?”
“Aye sir” the younger man replied, turning back to the console.
At the fringe of the convoy, the U-571, commanded by Kapitanleutnant Helmut Mohlmann, headed through the dark water towards periscope depth. Mohlmann grabbed the attack ‘scope, raising it above the choppy waves and squinting into the eyepiece. As the scope cleared, he saw the bulk of a light destroyer in the viewfinder nearly within torpedo range.
“Prepare two fish and get ready to send the signal!”, he barked.
The orders were relayed through the ship, the sailors in the sub’s forward torpedo spaces bustling around the sleek weapons and loading them into the tubes. Meanwhile in the sub’s radio shack, the radio operator dialled a pre-arranged frequency and set his set to transmit.
“Transmit!” Mohlmann ordered, not moving from the viewfinder.
Far above in the pre-dawn sky, Müller’s Dornier had located the convoy and had found the American carrier towards the rear of the group. Obergefreiter Willi Weber, the aircaft’s Gunner/Radio Operator bolted upright in his seat next to his radio set. “Herr Leutnant, we have the message! ‘Valhalla!’” he called on the intercom.
Müller’s grip on his control column tightened. “Excellent, Willi. Send the response. Franz, prepare the bird”. He replied. Both men busied themselves with their duties, the radio operator quickly keying the response “Ragnarok” whilst the bomb-aimer switched on the Kehl-Strassburg FuG 203/230 radio control equipment for the Henschel bomb.
Far below in the U-571, the radio operator received the coded reply. “Kapitanleutnant… Ragnarok”
Mohlmann grinned fiercely. “Prepare to fire on my mark!” He waited until the destroyer was centred in his viewfinder. “Fire One, Fire Two”.
The ship’s XO, Oberleutnant zur See Gustav Lussow punched the two release buttons for the forward tubes. “Fish away, Kapitanleutnant!” he barked, immediately looking up at the stopwatch above the torpedo controls.
Mohlmann briefly looked at his watch before returning to the viewfinder. The light destroyer in his sights steamed along, oblivious of the danger.
“Funf, Vier, Drei, Zwei, Eins!” Lussow called, counting down the stopwatch.
Just as he called the last number, two fountains of water appeared on the sides of the US destroyer. “All hands, dive, dive, dive! Down ‘scope” Müller yelled, dropping the attack periscope back into its well.
“Diving, aye” Lussow replied, signalling to the helmsmen and blowing the ballast tanks. The U-571 quickly slid deeper into the depths, turning away from the convoy.
In the big Dornier, Müller saw the two flashes of the torpedos hitting the destroyer at the head of the convoy. “Franz, they have a hit! Wait for the carrier to start its air operations, then launch when ready.”
“Jawohl, Herr Leutnant!” the bomb-aimer replied, focussing his bombsight on the carrier.
Aboard the USS Bataan, the bridge exploded with activity. “Captain, the USS Hambleton has just reported two torpedo strikes!” the radio operator called.
“God-damn it all! Get hold of the air-group boss and get some anti-sub birds up! We’ll have to take the risk that this weather clears by the time they want to come back aboard! More of these Kraut subs!” Captain Schaeffer yelled, grabbing the DCAG or Commander Air Group’s deputy. “and get that radar operator and the XO on the horn. We need intelligence now!”
Moments later, the deck of the Bataan began to surge with men and equipment as the sailors of the ship’s air group prepared the TBM torpedo bombers of USN Composite Squadron VC-1 for flight operations. The nine Avengers of the squadron were quickly refuelled and loaded with depth charges and as each aircraft was prepared, they were moved towards the flight deck elevator.
Far above, Müller and his crew waited patiently, his bomb aimer closely watching the carrier. “Herr Leutnant, I can see movement on the deck of the American carrier.” He called over the intercom above the roar of the engines.
“Excellent Franz. Give them a minute or two to get nice and crowded down there, then drop the eier.”
“Jawohl, Herr Leutnant.” The bomb-aimer replied, refocussing his sight on the target ship. He could see activity on the deck and soon noted the dark shapes of the American bombers coming up on the ship’s elevator. Two of the American aircraft were wheeled away towards the catapults whilst the some of the deck-crew headed back to the elevator to prepare for the next group. Seeing his opportunity, he launched the Henschel bomb watching through the bombsight as its rocket ignited below the bomber and it screamed towards the US ship.
“Eier away!” he cried, not taking his eyes off the bombsight, watching the tail flare as the missile went into a near vertical dive over the US carrier.
Far below, the sailors aboard the Bataan busied themselves with preparing the TBMs of VC-1 for their sorties, unaware of the impending doom dropping towards them. The radar systems still struggled with their issues, quite possibly due to the extreme cold, considering the Bataan had recently been seconded from duties in the Pacific but the ship’s XO and radar crew still persisted with the troublesome set.
On the bridge, Captain Schaeffer fumed inwardly, watching the deck crew preparing the TBMs for their mission. He walked towards the glass windows surrounding the bridge to look further down onto the flight deck when, above the murmur of the ship’s engines and other equipment, he heard a screaming roar unlike anything he’d heard before. One of the sailors heard the noise above the ruckus of flight deck ops and looked skyward from down in the hanger spaces on the flight deck elevator as he dragged the tie down chains into place around another loaded TBM, suddenly noticing a black shape dropping towards the ship. A second later, the Henschel bomb struck the elevator deck near the tail of the Grumman bomber. The resultant explosion obliterated the sailors within the hanger space nearest the elevator, detonating the fuel and depth charges of the TBM on the elevator sending a fireball pouring into the hanger, catching fuel lines, crew and anything else in its wake.
On the bridge, Captain Schaeffer was hit by a hail of glass as the fireball channelled up the elevator, it’s shockwave blasting the flight deck and bridge. The two TBMs on the catapults and their crews were blown into the sea along with many of the flight deck crew whilst Captain Schaeffer and those on the bridge were thrown about the area, mortally wounded by the flying glass and other debris.
Müller and the crew looked towards the carrier as he banked the big Dornier into a turn. The fireball of the explosion could be easily seen through the early morning murk when all of a sudden, another shockwave shook the carrier as conflagration reached the fuel reserves in the hanger bay. Even at this height, the German crew could see the ship start to list heavily as it began to succumb to its wounds, shaking like giant tree set upon by a legion of lumberjacks. Secondary explosions ripped through the ship, blowing through the wooden flight deck and opening up yawning chasms of the ship’s innards filled with blazing fuel and dark, acrid smoke.
“Mein Gott im Himmel” Müller whispered watching the carnage playing out below. “Willi, set a course for home.” He said tersely as the bomb-aimer returned to his navigation position.
“Jawohl Herr Leutnant, set course 165 degrees”. The navigator replied quietly.
As the Dornier turned to set its course back to Honningsvåg, the radio operator of the U-571 sent a signal to the other boats in the Wolfsrudel. It said quite simply, ‘Fütterungszeit’ or Feeding Time.
Kriegsmarine
Leutnant zur See Hans Heinrich Müller, Pilot, SeeKGr 1
Fregattenkapitän Horst Schmidt, Commander, SeeKGr 1
Kapitän zur See Wolfram Becker, Base Commander, Flugplatz Honningsvåg
Feldwebel Franz Schneider, Bomb Aimer/Navigator, SeeKGr 1
Maat Gerhard Fischer, Flight Engineer, SeeKGr 1
Obergefreiter Willi Weber, Gunner/Radio Operator, SeeKGr 1
Gefreiter Heinz Meyer, Tail Gunner, SeeKGr 1
Kapitanleutnant Helmut Mohlmann, Captain, U-571
Oberleutnant zur See Gustav Lussow, XO, U-571
Convoy
Captain Valentine Schaeffer, Commanding Officer, USS Bataan
Lieutenant Commander Jim Murray, XO, USS Bataan
Petty Officer Third Class Theodore Jenkins, Radar Operator, USS Bataan
Leutnant zur See Hans Heinrich Müller strode across the tarmac at Flugplatz Honningsvåg in Norway towards the HQ building in the morning light. Approaching the large structure, he saluted the armed guards who snapped to attention near the main door.
“Guten morgen Herr Leutnant” one barked.
“Guten morgen Joachim. A frosty start to the day, nein?”
“Nothing we can’t deal with Herr Leutnant”.
Müller walked through the corridors of the building until he reached the office of the base commander Kapitän zur See Wolfram Becker. He rapped on the door and stood back.
The door opened and Fregattenkapitän Horst Schmidt, SeeKampfgruppe 1’s commanding officer smiled broadly. “Hans, bitte, come in and take a seat”.
Müller entered and snapped to attention before the large mahogany desk that dominated the room.
“Guten morgen Hans, have you heard from your family in Berlin recently?”
“Guten morgen Herr Kapitän Becker. Thank you for asking, I had a letter a couple of days ago from Ilse and all seems well all things considered.”
“Excellent news, Hans, please take a seat.” Kapitän zur See Becker gestured to one of the large leather chairs in front of the desk.
Müller’s CO closed the door behind them and took up position in the other seat.
“You may be wondering why we’ve asked you to come in this morning and why you and your crew have been stood down from operations for the last couple of days.” Kapitän zur See Becker asked.
“Fregattenkapitän Schmidt told me that we had been selected for a special mission and that we were to be held back until such time as this was put into action. I have informed my crew that we are being held over for the moment but haven’t elaborated.” Müller replied.
“Excellent Hans, my faith in you continues to be validated.” His commander replied then deferred to the other officer.
“Ja most excellent.” The other replied. “Now, regarding this mission. I’m sure you’re aware that the Allies continue to attempt convoys through the Arctic Ocean in an attempt to stabilise their beach-head at Novaya Zemlya so that they might create a second front after the failure of the Soviets to stop our forces earlier in the War.”
“I had heard that the convoys were slowing down as our Wolfsrudel (German U-boot wolfpacks) were causing quite heavy losses, especially without any real air cover for them.”
“Quite so, the British have only been able to offer destroyers, cruisers and other smaller combatants and haven’t attempted to send their carriers along, knowing the chances of surviving the journey have become quite slim. Into this mix, our intelligence has determined that the Americans have authorised one of their older carriers to escort the next convoy from England following their successes against the Japanese in the Pacific. Naturally this presents an excellent opportunity for the Reich as the sinking of an American capital ship would definitely make them reconsider the use of their naval forces in such an exercise and put even greater strain on the overall Allied effort at resupplying.” The older man paused, scanning the younger pilot’s face.
“I see,” Müller replied, I’m assuming that this occurrence coincides with this mission my crew and I have been selected for?”
“Ah good, Fregattenkapitän Schmidt told me that you were an intelligent man and once again, his judgement proves to be sound. You have assumed correctly. You and your crew’s operational experience speaks volumes about your selection for the mission and your successes with the Henschel weapons in particular are what brings you here. Our intention is to have you fly a mission against the American carrier aided by one of our Wolfsrudel. Given the fighter cover the Americans would be able to deploy, the mission would begin with one of our U-booten shadowing the convoy until such time as they come within the extreme range of our Dorniers. At this point, you would launch and head towards the target area arriving near dawn. One of our U-Booten would wait for your radio call and then attack one of the smaller vessels in the convoy as a distraction. The hope is that the Americans would begin to launch their U-bootjaegers in an attempt to stop this attack rather than sending their fighters up. Their smaller ships always sail around the fringes of the convoy, but cruisers and, we assume, their carrier, would be more than likely within the convoy itself, protected in a similar way. Taking out one of these smaller ships would focus the attention of the defenders in that direction at which point your attack would commence. The range of the Henschel weapon would keep your aircraft out of flak range and with any luck, the strike would disable the carrier’s operations allowing the remainder of the Wolfsrudel to strike, take care of the convoy and send a very firm message to the Allies that sending their carriers into harm’s way has dire consequences.”
“A solid plan Herr Kapitän zur See Wolfram Becker. It also ensures that the Americans have no chance to launch their fighters against my aircraft, providing the carrier is effectively disabled. A strike against the vessel’s bridge might be most effective, but we also know that the American carriers have wooden decks unlike their British counterparts, so the opportunity to hit the vessel and disable their flight operations that way is also an alternative.”
“Hans, you continue to impress everyone around the Seeflieger community. Suffice to say, a successful mission will mean great accolades for you and your crew and further opportunities would be yours for the taking.” Kapitän zur See Becker replied, grinning broadly. “Please return to your crew and give them the general idea of the mission, but under the strictest confidence. We expect to be able to launch the mission at last light tomorrow so get some rest and best of luck!”.
The three men shook hands and Müller returned to his own quarters and began to prepare his own kit later going across to his crew’s barracks to inform them of the mission.
The evening light began to wane as Müller walked towards the flightline after gathering the necessary radio codes and other mission information from the operations center. He could see the black overalls of the ground crew bustling about the big Dornier, whilst his crew stood to one side, checking their own kit.
“Guten Abend Jungs. Ready for a little trip?” he grinned as he walked up to the men.
“Guten Abend Herr Leutnant, we’re good to go when you are. The schwarz männer (Kriegsmarine groundcrewmen) have just finished fuelling and prepping the big girl.” His bomb-aimer/navigator, Feldwebel Franz Schneider replied.
“Excellent Franz, we’ll preflight her and get going.” Müller replied.
The crew and Müller moved around the aircraft, checking hatches, airframe components, pylons and the big Henschel missile hanging below the port wing and the heavy drop tank below the right. Once satisfied, they boarded their plane and began their preflight routines.
The big Dornier Do 517E-2/R3 was a development of the successful Do 217 family with a quartet of engines and new, longer wing replacing the twin engines of the earlier aircraft. Following the progression of the smaller variant, the newer aircraft had begun with standard BMW 801s and stepped cockpit area developing into later variants with various engine combinations and then went into the streamlined cockpit of the earlier aircraft’s Do 217K/M variants. In addition to the new engines and wings, this aircraft also had a FuG 200 Hohentwiel radar set fitted along with a tail turret for rear area defence.
The ground crew went through their own routines as Müller and his crew completed their final checks. Firing the port outer BMW 801J engine, the big radial roared to life, sending a vibration through the heavy aircraft. In sequence, the other engines kicked over growling with power.
Finally a crewman dragged the heavy chocks away from the landing gear and waved to the aircraft. Müller released the brakes and advanced the throttles, moving the bomber away from the staging area to the main runway.
His radio operator called the tower for clearance as Müller settled the aircraft at the end of the runway, engaging the brakes and bringing the engines up to full power. The aircraft hummed with energy as the four radials reached their normal limit, straining against the brakes. Müller checked with the crew to ensure that everything was in order and then received the word from the radio operator. He throttled back the engines, performing a final visual check of the instruments then released the brakes, bringing the engines back up to power whilst his flight engineer moved the flaps to takeoff position.
The big Dornier rumbled down the runway, gathering speed as the tailwheel began to lift from the tarmac. Müller held the aircraft level as the raced further along until final rotation speed was achieved. He hauled back on the control column, lifting the big bomber into the sky as Maat Gerhard Fischer, the Flight Engineer raised the landing gear.
“OK Franz, give me a heading for the rendezvous point.”
“Jawohl Herr Leutnant, come to a heading of 021 degrees and climb to 13000 meters.”
Müller swung the nose of the bomber around and brought into a gradual climb, clipping his oxygen mask on as the crew did likewise.
“How’s everything back there Heinz?” he called over the intercom.
Gefreiter Heinz Meyer was the crewman assigned to the tail gun position of the bomber, sitting in the powered tail turret armed with a quartet of MG 151/15 heavy machine guns. This aspect of the Dornier was a marked change from the earlier Do 217 and most other German bombers with tail armament routinely absent or remotely fired from within the main cabin. The first Do 517 had a gun position similar to the Heinkel He 177 bomber armed with a single weapon, whilst later variants attempted to return the gunner to the main cockpit with remote turrets, although in the newer variants, this fell by the wayside, returning instead to the manned turret, albeit with heavier powered weapon fittings.
“All good here Herr Leutnant” Meyer replied, watching the dark base disappear into the murk as the Dornier climbed into darkening sky.
“Excellent Heinz, keep me informed of any issues”. Müller called.
The crew settled in as the big Dornier climbed into the night sky each man busy with their own roles, Müller setting the autopilot for the transition to the target area.
A convoy of ships crashed through the icy waters of the Barents Sea in the murky light of the pre-dawn. Small destroyers slid along the flanks of the convoy and out ahead, searching for the ever present threat of German U-Boats. In addition to the usual retinue of light combatants, this convoy also was escorted by the USS Bataan, a light carrier that the USN had grudgingly allocated to the convoy to help with the escort.
Aboard the Bataan, Captain Valentine Schaeffer stalked into the radar shack, already in a foul mood from being seconded into convoy duty. “God-damn it Jenkins, what in the living hell is wrong now?!” he bristled.
The young sailor manning the CXAM radar, Petty Officer Third Class Theodore Jenkins blanched under the tirade. “Sorry sir, we’re having issues with the system cycling correctly. I can’t put it down to anything specific, but the set goes faulty without warning.”
“Fucking radar…. Everyone thinks it’s so God-damned important but never mentions when it doesn’t work.” Schaeffer was a veteran of the Navy, serving well before the outbreak of WW2 and was somewhat infamous for his disdain for many modern technologies or other systems. “Given that it’s zero visibility outside, I’d suggest doing something quicker than this sailor. These God-damned Kraut U-Boats we keep on hearing about are bad enough without being completely blind in this muck. We can’t even put up a CAP (combat air patrol) until this weather clears so any Kraut battlewagon or sub could have a fair field day before we knew what was going on.”
Turning to his XO, he continued his rant. “Jim, I don’t give a rat’s ass how long it takes but stay here and make sure these braniacs get this fucking radar up & running.”
The ship’s XO, Lieutenant Commander Jim Murray grimaced, “Aye sir. We’ll get it done.” He replied coolly as the senior officer barged through the door, heading back towards the bridge.
Looking at the young sailor, he laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Jenkins, let’s get this sorted out soon, right?”
“Aye sir” the younger man replied, turning back to the console.
At the fringe of the convoy, the U-571, commanded by Kapitanleutnant Helmut Mohlmann, headed through the dark water towards periscope depth. Mohlmann grabbed the attack ‘scope, raising it above the choppy waves and squinting into the eyepiece. As the scope cleared, he saw the bulk of a light destroyer in the viewfinder nearly within torpedo range.
“Prepare two fish and get ready to send the signal!”, he barked.
The orders were relayed through the ship, the sailors in the sub’s forward torpedo spaces bustling around the sleek weapons and loading them into the tubes. Meanwhile in the sub’s radio shack, the radio operator dialled a pre-arranged frequency and set his set to transmit.
“Transmit!” Mohlmann ordered, not moving from the viewfinder.
Far above in the pre-dawn sky, Müller’s Dornier had located the convoy and had found the American carrier towards the rear of the group. Obergefreiter Willi Weber, the aircaft’s Gunner/Radio Operator bolted upright in his seat next to his radio set. “Herr Leutnant, we have the message! ‘Valhalla!’” he called on the intercom.
Müller’s grip on his control column tightened. “Excellent, Willi. Send the response. Franz, prepare the bird”. He replied. Both men busied themselves with their duties, the radio operator quickly keying the response “Ragnarok” whilst the bomb-aimer switched on the Kehl-Strassburg FuG 203/230 radio control equipment for the Henschel bomb.
Far below in the U-571, the radio operator received the coded reply. “Kapitanleutnant… Ragnarok”
Mohlmann grinned fiercely. “Prepare to fire on my mark!” He waited until the destroyer was centred in his viewfinder. “Fire One, Fire Two”.
The ship’s XO, Oberleutnant zur See Gustav Lussow punched the two release buttons for the forward tubes. “Fish away, Kapitanleutnant!” he barked, immediately looking up at the stopwatch above the torpedo controls.
Mohlmann briefly looked at his watch before returning to the viewfinder. The light destroyer in his sights steamed along, oblivious of the danger.
“Funf, Vier, Drei, Zwei, Eins!” Lussow called, counting down the stopwatch.
Just as he called the last number, two fountains of water appeared on the sides of the US destroyer. “All hands, dive, dive, dive! Down ‘scope” Müller yelled, dropping the attack periscope back into its well.
“Diving, aye” Lussow replied, signalling to the helmsmen and blowing the ballast tanks. The U-571 quickly slid deeper into the depths, turning away from the convoy.
In the big Dornier, Müller saw the two flashes of the torpedos hitting the destroyer at the head of the convoy. “Franz, they have a hit! Wait for the carrier to start its air operations, then launch when ready.”
“Jawohl, Herr Leutnant!” the bomb-aimer replied, focussing his bombsight on the carrier.
Aboard the USS Bataan, the bridge exploded with activity. “Captain, the USS Hambleton has just reported two torpedo strikes!” the radio operator called.
“God-damn it all! Get hold of the air-group boss and get some anti-sub birds up! We’ll have to take the risk that this weather clears by the time they want to come back aboard! More of these Kraut subs!” Captain Schaeffer yelled, grabbing the DCAG or Commander Air Group’s deputy. “and get that radar operator and the XO on the horn. We need intelligence now!”
Moments later, the deck of the Bataan began to surge with men and equipment as the sailors of the ship’s air group prepared the TBM torpedo bombers of USN Composite Squadron VC-1 for flight operations. The nine Avengers of the squadron were quickly refuelled and loaded with depth charges and as each aircraft was prepared, they were moved towards the flight deck elevator.
Far above, Müller and his crew waited patiently, his bomb aimer closely watching the carrier. “Herr Leutnant, I can see movement on the deck of the American carrier.” He called over the intercom above the roar of the engines.
“Excellent Franz. Give them a minute or two to get nice and crowded down there, then drop the eier.”
“Jawohl, Herr Leutnant.” The bomb-aimer replied, refocussing his sight on the target ship. He could see activity on the deck and soon noted the dark shapes of the American bombers coming up on the ship’s elevator. Two of the American aircraft were wheeled away towards the catapults whilst the some of the deck-crew headed back to the elevator to prepare for the next group. Seeing his opportunity, he launched the Henschel bomb watching through the bombsight as its rocket ignited below the bomber and it screamed towards the US ship.
“Eier away!” he cried, not taking his eyes off the bombsight, watching the tail flare as the missile went into a near vertical dive over the US carrier.
Far below, the sailors aboard the Bataan busied themselves with preparing the TBMs of VC-1 for their sorties, unaware of the impending doom dropping towards them. The radar systems still struggled with their issues, quite possibly due to the extreme cold, considering the Bataan had recently been seconded from duties in the Pacific but the ship’s XO and radar crew still persisted with the troublesome set.
On the bridge, Captain Schaeffer fumed inwardly, watching the deck crew preparing the TBMs for their mission. He walked towards the glass windows surrounding the bridge to look further down onto the flight deck when, above the murmur of the ship’s engines and other equipment, he heard a screaming roar unlike anything he’d heard before. One of the sailors heard the noise above the ruckus of flight deck ops and looked skyward from down in the hanger spaces on the flight deck elevator as he dragged the tie down chains into place around another loaded TBM, suddenly noticing a black shape dropping towards the ship. A second later, the Henschel bomb struck the elevator deck near the tail of the Grumman bomber. The resultant explosion obliterated the sailors within the hanger space nearest the elevator, detonating the fuel and depth charges of the TBM on the elevator sending a fireball pouring into the hanger, catching fuel lines, crew and anything else in its wake.
On the bridge, Captain Schaeffer was hit by a hail of glass as the fireball channelled up the elevator, it’s shockwave blasting the flight deck and bridge. The two TBMs on the catapults and their crews were blown into the sea along with many of the flight deck crew whilst Captain Schaeffer and those on the bridge were thrown about the area, mortally wounded by the flying glass and other debris.
Müller and the crew looked towards the carrier as he banked the big Dornier into a turn. The fireball of the explosion could be easily seen through the early morning murk when all of a sudden, another shockwave shook the carrier as conflagration reached the fuel reserves in the hanger bay. Even at this height, the German crew could see the ship start to list heavily as it began to succumb to its wounds, shaking like giant tree set upon by a legion of lumberjacks. Secondary explosions ripped through the ship, blowing through the wooden flight deck and opening up yawning chasms of the ship’s innards filled with blazing fuel and dark, acrid smoke.
“Mein Gott im Himmel” Müller whispered watching the carnage playing out below. “Willi, set a course for home.” He said tersely as the bomb-aimer returned to his navigation position.
“Jawohl Herr Leutnant, set course 165 degrees”. The navigator replied quietly.
As the Dornier turned to set its course back to Honningsvåg, the radio operator of the U-571 sent a signal to the other boats in the Wolfsrudel. It said quite simply, ‘Fütterungszeit’ or Feeding Time.
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