Three destroyers had passed ahead of them, now far enough away to no longer be an immediate problem. A cruiser squadron had also sped through some time earlier, but had been too far away for an attack, and as the scouting force for the British fleet, they’d in any case be searching for bigger game than Kohl’s boat. That left just the vessels that were yet to pass before his bow… and juicy targets they were indeed. The OKM quite logically placed higher priority on merchant shipping than attacks on capital ships — preventing Britain from receiving supplies was far more beneficial to the Wehrmacht’s objectives than the sinking of any single warship — yet capital ships were still a prestigious target nevertheless, and U-boat commanders understandably lusted after them with a passion.
For Kohl, there was also something a little more personal. Wolff, the youngest of his brothers, had been serving with the Luftwaffe and had been stationed with a Zerstörergeschwader in France. Upon return to base in August after his last patrol, Kohl had learned that his brother had been shot down during an air raid on the British naval base at Scapa Flow and was listed as ‘missing, presumed killed’. The blow had struck his entire family hard, and he wasn’t sorry to be given the chance to now exact some vengeance on some of the warships that had been stationed at The Flow at the time of the raid.
Rain had started falling in a fine mist again and visibility was down as a result, but the line of warships parading before them was clear enough to at least identify their types if not the actual classes. Two battleships had already crossed U-1004’s path, and there were at least another three to come of similar size. It was the third and fourth in the line that Kohl was lining up on, intending to fire three torpedoes on each and then dive, hopefully sneaking directly under the fleet as he reloaded tubes, leaving the escorts to search for him on the wrong side of the formation. If one or two of the ‘fish’ hit each target, it probably wouldn’t be enough to sink or mortally wound a battleship, but they’d be enough to slow one down to the point where U-1004 might be able to keep up and finish it off.
He thought to himself at that moment that it was a shame they’d not gotten into position a little sooner: the second ship in line had been easily identified by her three forward turrets as HMS Nelson, sister-ship to the battleship Rodney that he himself had sunk outside Scapa Flow back in April. The Knights Cross he’d been awarded that now lay at his throat meant as much as the almost 40,000 tonnes the sinking had added to his total tonnage and ship tallies.
“Open outer doors… flood tubes one to six…”
“Open outer doors… flood tubes one to six…” The repeated orders again went out in a hush, and for the first time in an hour, the faint hum of the sub’s electric motors was drowned out by a different sound: the rumble and hiss of hull fairings sliding back to allow U-1004’s torpedo tubes to bear on her target. Within moments, the fire control officer informed that all six tubes were cleared, flooded and ready to fire.
“Set torpedo depth to six metres… speed to thirty-five knots…” Kohl continued, his mind continually active as he took in everything he could see through the scope. The draught of a battleship (the depth below the waterline) was far greater than that of a tanker or merchantman, and as such they could allow a greater torpedo running depth, greatly reducing the danger of ‘broaching’ on the surface. They’d require greater speed in return however, as warships could also steam much faster than commercial shipping. All of the U-boat’s torpedoes used electric propulsion and therefore produced almost no visible wake, leaving no warning of their approach.
Kohl made another defensive sweep of the seas around them — he’d survived that long as a U-boat commander by being careful rather than reckless, and 44 other officers and men also owed their lives to that fact.
“Bearing ten degrees… range eighteen hundred metres,” Kohl stated after a few more moments, releasing a deep, calming breath. “Tubes one to three… narrow spread… match bearings… and shoot!” That order was relayed instantly, and within seconds the correct target information had been transferred to the automatic gyroscopes within the torpedoes themselves. The whole ship shuddered faintly as three torpedoes hissed from their tubes one by one and immediately altered course onto their preset trajectories.
Kohl turned the attack scope to the fourth ship in the line — another battleship — and began to check bearings in preparation to firing his second salvo. The first three torpedoes had the better part of two minutes running time before impact, and that’d easily be enough time to acquire and fire on the second target. He was about to call out the first range and bearing reading as the boat suddenly and rather unexpectedly lurched sideways as the a nearby explosion shook them savagely. All thoughts of his second target vanished as they came under attack, probably from an unseen aircraft. Kohl almost gave the order for a crash dive, but suddenly remembered the shallowness of the surrounding waters and decided against it.
“Depth twenty-five metres! Set course to forty-five degrees, all ahead flank!” A crash dive would run the risk of hitting the bottom of the North Sea and leaving them stuck fast as a result… or worse. Instead, he lowered the periscopes and turned the boat to the north-east at full power, hoping their high submerged speed would fool any destroyers now turning in on the position of the attack.
Henry Harwood was still standing on the bridge as a warning reached the fleet that a U-boat had been sighted by one of Ark Royal’s air patrols. The enemy sub had been close to the formation — dangerously close — and the effectiveness of German U-boats was well known: that effectiveness could easily have crippled Britain and brought the country to its knees in a relatively short period of time, had there been a few more of them in service. The fighter bomber had spotted the grey shape of the vessel at periscope depth, faint but still visible in the dark waters of the North Sea, and had dropped a bomb on it but couldn’t confirm a hit. A subsequent fly-past could detect no debris or evidence of damage, nor could it find any further sign of the U-boat itself.
Harwood knew Admiral Tovey would be torn over what course of action to take next. A hundred kilometres south, the 2nd Cruiser Squadron had already reported smoke on the horizon — enough to suggest the presence of a large enemy fleet — and as such they couldn’t afford to break away from their current course or waste time in pointless manoeuvring at the whim of U-boat sightings, confirmed or otherwise. Destroyers Intrepid, Inglefield and Active were already turning in toward the area of the sighting at full speed, one of those vessels equipped with ASDIC; which might at least scare the enemy off, if not locate him and enable his destruction.
He was still waiting on the Admiral’s orders as two torpedoes struck Malaya amidships, the next ship in line behind Nelson. The impacts sent huge geysers of water spraying up her sides and superstructure. Fire broke out across her decks above the first of the impacts, thick black smoke pouring into the air as her captain began to cry for damage reports and she started to take on water through holes torn in her armour belt below the waterline. Her speed began to slow dramatically.