December
As blizzards began to raze over the North-Atlantic Sea, German Uboats suddenly found themselves at an advantage, heavy weather eliminating the threat of air raids. By Donitz’s orders, Uboat detachments began working in tandam with Kriegsmarine surface fleets to raid Allied warships. Many US fleets found themselves at a disadvantage in winter, as they were equipped with more sophisticated and thus more fragile scanners, prone to malfunction.
Another novelty in submarine warfare was the deployment of one of the first inventions to come from the Geneva Instititute, the Class XXII Submarine or simply ‘Elektroboot’
This new class of submarine was much more combat-effective while submerged, and radically changed the outlook of naval warfare: Allied commanders quickly realized they would need better scanners, or risk falling prey to superior German submarines. Elektroboot numbers were limited in the beginning, but the Northern German shipyards worked around the clock to provide more ships for the Kriegsmarine Ubootflotte, which were being deployed both in the Pacific and in the Atlantic. In Geneva, Chancellor Van Geyte himself ordered research into a new type of submarine, one that would be capable of firing long-range missiles to be able to perform devastating and covert strikes without being limited to airports and plane range. It was an idea as mad as it was brilliant.
On the 21st of December 1944, USN fleets first encountered the effectiveness of next-generation submarine warfare.
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The following events took place December 21, 1944, aboard the USS Republic (Gibbs Fracture East)
1:00 AM, the 21st of December. Two days before Christmas.
Grand Admiral Farragut sat in the bridge, substituting sleep for studying tactical plans. Constant storms, like the one tonight bore down upon the fleet, rocking mighty carriers back and forth as immeasurable waves crashed open upon the deck while rain poured down in quantities Farragut had never seen before. Good god, the rain. While razorsharp winds howled in every hallway, Farragut pondered the last days. Although the weather had been horrible, the USN 9th Fleet had managed to gain some hallmark victories: Last week they had managed to sink no less than nine German battleships, along with a handfull of destroyers and cruisers. Still, it was hard to sleep out in hostile seas, where even lumbering beasts of steel and engines were silenced and hidden by the feral weather. It was practically impossible to spot enemy fleets in this weather, disturbing the Grand Admiral’s peace of mind. Indecisively, Farragut closed the map he had been watching and moved out of his room.
The hallways were eerily dark and silent, as many sailors had taken to their bunks. The only men awake in the ships now were night-time staff and navigational personnel, attempting to manouevre the fleet safely out of this endless storm. Absently, the Grand Admiral took his naval hat from a locker and moved to the bridge.
Silently, the men observed the information their sonars were passing on. They had to be silent now, silent as the night. The only thing reminding them of their own humanity were their own vague appearances in the dim red light, and the urge for sleep that made it hard for the men to concentrate. With a muffled creaking sound, a lock was removed and a large, impressively decorated official entered the room. It was obvious the captain was unnerved being up this late into the night, but this was indeed a chance alike no other.
The cool and claustrophobic cabin felt oddly active as sailors and machinists moved through the cabins exchanging files and pointing out thing on a map. Several men were observing meters attached to hundreds of pipings, looking for a sign of an anomaly they would probably never find.
“All stand” By his tone, it was obvious Farragut’s second-in-command did not feel like performing the usual rituals tonight. While some made faint attempts at saluting the captain, Farragut waved away their greetings
“Please people, it’s too late for that. What’s the news?”
It was a question intended more to keep the Admiral occupied than to actually gather information. Of course there was no news: They were sailing head-first through a massive storm, while the freezing wind and rain disabled all their sonar and scanning equipment.
“The usual. Sonar’s out, scanner’s out, pretty much everything is out.”
“Patch me through to USS Virginia”
The admiral walked up to the radio station and sat down while the radioman began strenuous attempts at getting a connection up with the Virginia. Ironical, considering that by clear weather the men on both ships were able to communicate by just shouting at eachother from the carrier decks; After all, the ships were sailing right next to eachother. The admiral looked out of the bridge window left of him as a lightning flash lit up his surroundings, allowing him a short glimpse at the Virginia and the other ships of the fleet. As the flash dissolved, the image vanished as fast as it had appeared, leaving behind a few stripes of light in the shape of the fleet on his iris.
“How is the connection coming?”
“I’m working on it sir, but setting the antennas to correspond to the right frequence is hard with the storm outside”
The admiral looked back towards the vast darkness surrounding the bridge, as another massive wave swept over the deck of the carrier.
War is math. He who has the best calculations, wins. It was a comment typical of their captain, who had been a mathematician before the war. Indeed, out on the seas he proved to be a brilliant tactician, a man aware of everything while blind.
“Approaching targets. Course 52 22 0 0 closing. Heading 45, short range”
The captain looked up and responded “Roger. All ships, accelerate to cruise speed and commence manouevres” Without looking, the captain grabbed a large handle and pulled it, ringing off a bell in the machine room a deck below, telling the machinists to accelerate the engines. Afterwards, the captain unfolded a large map of the area and began drawing lines. Red and blue. Us and them
“It’s all about parameters, you see. Speed, current, heading, bearing. Everything, parameters”
Red and blue. Us and them.
“Connection established, here sir”
The radioman handed Farragut a large clunky telephone, which the Admiral could use to contact the Virginia.
“USS Virginia, this is USS Republic, come in, over”
Immediately, a familiar voice responded “You still up at this hour Robert? What would our mother say?”
Farragut grinned “Don’t get cocky on me just because you have your own carrier to run now little brother, I still outrank you in every way possible”
At the other side of the phone, Captain Julian Farragut laughed “Is that so? I’d like to remark that my ship made four sinks this week, how many did yours get?”
Staring blankly at an unexisting point in the black void outside, Farragut responded “It’s not all about the sinks Julian. We’re fighting a war here you know, the greater good and all that.”
In reality, the Republic had only managed to sink one ship, a bit of information Robert did not feel like passing on to his brother.
“Ah, boo, you’re never any fun”
“Haha, but serious now, any news from Washington?”
“I’m afraid not, radio has been dead for days. We’re a long way from home now.”
The Grand Admiral paused for a while “Yes, we are.” They were indeed, far away from home.
Outside the rain continued to wash off the windows of the bridge, distorting the men’s perceptions even more. The navigators were working around the clock this hour, not to make the fleet go the right way, but to prevent the ships from sailing into eachother with this weather.
“Tonight, the parameters are in our favor. Position is an important parameter, and this is a most crucial advantage tonight: We know where they are, but they don’t know where we are”
With confident and calculated strokes, the captain began drawing straight lines with a ruler, indiciating corners towards symbols on the map. Red and blue, us and them. The 9th fleet.
“The weather will have numbed their senses and their sonars. It will be perfect.”
The captain moved towards the navigator and presented a list of numbers indicating position, course and heading the ships would have to form.
“Pass these on”
“Yes sir”
Indeed, above an enormous storm was raging. But 80 metres below the surface of the sea, there was very little to notice that by: The innards of the submarine were as eerily calm and glacial as they had allways been. After spending too much time underwater, one feels as if he has become a part of the Uboot, nothing more then an instrument needed to keep the thing sailing. There was a sence of discomforting stability inside a submarine: The silence sounded always the same, the air you breathed was always the same and the climate remained constant, no matter what. The captain raised his hand
"Man battle stations. Patience is the key now."
To be continued...
