Psychfilm
02-21-2007, 10:31 AM
~ A stinky sock fighting a dirty war with no regard for those around him in a new brand new boat.
Taken from the personal War Diary (Kriegstagebuch) of Captain J. Smitlack.
Extended Shore Leave
23 August 1941 1 December 1941
It has been a hard few months. Shortly after our last patrol in U-123 I sank into a deep depression over the loss of my one worldly possession my deck chair sent to the bottom by the unmerciful sock that has become the bane of my existence. At the same time the events of the last few months have cemented the idea that I can no longer deny; our destinies are intertwined.
After my bath I went on the bender to end all benders. I woke up in bed several days later spooning with Raeder. I barely had enough time to try to recall what I had been drinking when Raeder's eyes fluttered open. One look at the tattoo on my chest of the two heavily muscled U-boat men locked in a manly embrace and the banner reading, "U-boat Men Blow Ballast!" and Raeder began screaming and did not stop for five days.
After they took Raeder away I was summoned away by one of my crew. Apparently Socko was provisioning the boat for another patrol. He had ripped out what he called all the non-essentials. The beds, radio, galley and anything else he classified as dead weight. He had then loaded the boat with every torpedo or flak gun round he could find.
I reached the Dock as Socko, behind the flak gun, fires a burst into the band that had gathered on the pier to play a tribute to the departing boat.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/3.jpg
He smiles cruelly as he annihilates the helpless band members. Socko leans way out from the gun and in a slurry voice says,
"Who...who doesn't take requests?! Who doesn't know little brown jug?! I mean come on!" Socko then proceeds to throw up all over himself and the assistant gunner standing next to him. Then he blames the gunner for throwing up and shows what a flak gun can do to a person at close range. The screaming crowd of people on the dock is covered in the viscera. Socko belches.
The crew and I exchange a glance that speaks of regret that Socko has overindulged in the U-boat specials and now has a serious Mean-On. Socko orders the boat flank ahead as he fires another burst into the crowd. The chief and I run along the shore trying to keep up with the mad Sock as he pulls out into the harbor. Nothing is safe be it another U-boat.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/12.jpg
Or even the Seagulls circling overhead.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/17.jpg
Socko runs back and forth from the deck gun to the flak gun leaving nothing but death and destruction in his wake. Socko targets a ship in the harbor and fires. The crew, many just waking up to find death itself perched on the end of their rack, try in vain to get out of the insane sock's path.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/18.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/19.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/20.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/21.jpg
A sailor is tossed into the air from the deck gun round exploding. He rag dolls as he tumbles high into the morning sky before falling into the water dead and probably better off. Socko's single brass button eye glints in the sunshine as he cackles out abuse from the foul cotton sewer of a mouth.
"I'd rate that last one a 9.5 the triple summersault with a full twist was a nice capper to an already difficult routine."
Socko puts a burst of flak gunfire into the body. The carnage continues unabated. Everyone is in too much shock to do anything but point and stare. Socko is the only one who acts maybe the only one who can amidst the insanity. Socko rounds the dock and spots a tanker at anchor. While still running at Flank Speed Socko puts a few deck gun rounds into the helpless ship as a fire breaks out on deck.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/31.jpg
The crew of the tanker try to fight the fire like the valiant sailors they are. Socko cuts them down without mercy only pausing to laugh or take a sip of his coconut drink, with umbrella as Lorient burns.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/37.jpg
Socko circles the harbor throwing all his hate at the world.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/42.jpg
Nothing escapes his anger.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/44.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/48.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/50.jpg
The barrel of the flak gun glows white-hot and the deck gun continues to fire as Socko continues his rampage through Lorient Harbor. It is then that he clamps his brass button eye on an incoming U-boat. The Chief and I shout until we can shout no more but it is too late. The unsuspecting boat does not even see Socko behind the gun until after the first barrage. Socko catches them completely unaware.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/59.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/66.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/69.jpg
Socko is reloading when the Luftwaffe shows up. 2 B-109's swarm over the boat rocking it with gunfire as a greeting. Socko curses and sends back a greeting of his own, the planes continue to circle but give the Sock a wide berth.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/71.jpg
Socko turns his attention back to the other U-boat. "There can be only one!" the sock trumpets as he slides up beside.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/73.jpg
Without warning, or thought or even common sense Socko turns U-123 on a collision course with the U-boat not once taking his cotton finger of the trigger.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/75.jpg
The two boats collide with the now familiar sound of rending metal. U-123 rises up out of the water and over the other boat.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/79.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/80.jpg
An explosion rips the other boat wide open. It quickly fills with seawater and slips below the water.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/89.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/91.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/93.jpg
Socko cheers over the screams from shore.
Socko turns back towards the docks. The Chief and I reverse our course and sprint back towards the docks. As the boat pulls up something goes horribly wrong down below. The boat seems to lift out of the water and breaks in half a split second later an explosion obliterates the boat, the dock and half the port. The Chief and I are knocked off our feet by the blast as a wall of fire flashes over us. I come to with a loud ringing in my ears. I head for what was once the port of Lorient and can only stare in horror as Socko, his cotton body riddled with smoking holes, pulls himself onto the beach the salt water dripping off his single brass button eye as the fire from the carnage crackle with an low level roar. He looks up and smiles.
"Did you see that!?" I mumble something about all of France seeing that. It might have been the concussion, the loss of blood or the fact that my brain could no longer cope with the situation but the blackness rose up and I welcomed it.
I wake up in Whispering Pines a type of resort for the very very nervous. I spend the next few days painting, playing chess and eating apple sauce. I am told, when the doctors think I can take it, that Socko was taken away for an audience with Hitler. Adolph wanted to meet the sock that was responsible for the destruction of Lorient and two full U-boat crews in less than an hour. I figure that will be the last time I ever see Socko. If only that were true.
A few days later the door to my room explodes and silhouetted against the harsh white light is a shape I know all too well. Two feet high with a scowl on his cotton mug Socko steps into the room wearing the uniform of a Grand Admiral.
"Get off your pity pot Nancy we have a war to fight." I know it is futile to protest and gather up my uniform. On the train to our next assignment Socko fills me in on his meeting with Hitler.
He says with a smirk that Hitler came in acting all big and bad screaming and swearing in German and five minutes later left the room crying like a little girl. All the little cotton sock would say was that he bit Hitler somewhere...HARD. Socko was promoted to Grand Admiral as Raeder has apparently taken a leave of absence.
The train stops off in Germany just long enough for Socko to grab a bucket of Colonel Klink's Berlin Fried Chicken. Germany's answer to an obscure restaurant in Kentucky of all places. Colonel Klink's secret recipe of one herb and two spices (one of which I'm pretty sure is sand) seems to be Socko's latest addiction. He eats the entire bucket with great relish as he details our next assignment.
We are going to La Spezia assigned to the 29th flotilla. La Spezia? Nobody every goes to La Spezia when I express this to Socko he merely nods and smiles cruelly with his grease soaked mouth.
"They'll never see us coming Nancy." Is all he says until later when he coughs up a chicken bone.
We are to take command of a Type VIIB U-101. Socko has been studying the boats of the fleet and claims that he VIIB is the most successful. I think he just misses U-1 but would never express this to him. I am also told that I have been demoted to fifth officer. There are only two officers on board other than the Grand Admiral and myself but Socko tells me I should be happy to get to go along at all after crying over my deck chair and using all my sick time at once. The mention of my chair stirs a deep sadness in me but everyone has lost so much and that allows me to push it away.
We arrive in La Spezia and unpack. The next morning I head down to the boat and see Socko is already up. He is loading the boat with bag after bag of cotton balls a folder marked top secret beside him.
I ask him if this is some kind of joke. He merely nods grimly to the folder and mutters,
"For this one Sonny Jim we're going to need all the balls we can get."
http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif
Thanks for reading. I've been on a bit of a creative break while I updated my system and got used to GW. I cannot wait for Silent Hunter IV. Hope everyone is well. Keep Hunting.
Taken from the personal War Diary (Kriegstagebuch) of Captain J. Smitlack.
Extended Shore Leave
23 August 1941 1 December 1941
It has been a hard few months. Shortly after our last patrol in U-123 I sank into a deep depression over the loss of my one worldly possession my deck chair sent to the bottom by the unmerciful sock that has become the bane of my existence. At the same time the events of the last few months have cemented the idea that I can no longer deny; our destinies are intertwined.
After my bath I went on the bender to end all benders. I woke up in bed several days later spooning with Raeder. I barely had enough time to try to recall what I had been drinking when Raeder's eyes fluttered open. One look at the tattoo on my chest of the two heavily muscled U-boat men locked in a manly embrace and the banner reading, "U-boat Men Blow Ballast!" and Raeder began screaming and did not stop for five days.
After they took Raeder away I was summoned away by one of my crew. Apparently Socko was provisioning the boat for another patrol. He had ripped out what he called all the non-essentials. The beds, radio, galley and anything else he classified as dead weight. He had then loaded the boat with every torpedo or flak gun round he could find.
I reached the Dock as Socko, behind the flak gun, fires a burst into the band that had gathered on the pier to play a tribute to the departing boat.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/3.jpg
He smiles cruelly as he annihilates the helpless band members. Socko leans way out from the gun and in a slurry voice says,
"Who...who doesn't take requests?! Who doesn't know little brown jug?! I mean come on!" Socko then proceeds to throw up all over himself and the assistant gunner standing next to him. Then he blames the gunner for throwing up and shows what a flak gun can do to a person at close range. The screaming crowd of people on the dock is covered in the viscera. Socko belches.
The crew and I exchange a glance that speaks of regret that Socko has overindulged in the U-boat specials and now has a serious Mean-On. Socko orders the boat flank ahead as he fires another burst into the crowd. The chief and I run along the shore trying to keep up with the mad Sock as he pulls out into the harbor. Nothing is safe be it another U-boat.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/12.jpg
Or even the Seagulls circling overhead.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/17.jpg
Socko runs back and forth from the deck gun to the flak gun leaving nothing but death and destruction in his wake. Socko targets a ship in the harbor and fires. The crew, many just waking up to find death itself perched on the end of their rack, try in vain to get out of the insane sock's path.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/18.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/19.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/20.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/21.jpg
A sailor is tossed into the air from the deck gun round exploding. He rag dolls as he tumbles high into the morning sky before falling into the water dead and probably better off. Socko's single brass button eye glints in the sunshine as he cackles out abuse from the foul cotton sewer of a mouth.
"I'd rate that last one a 9.5 the triple summersault with a full twist was a nice capper to an already difficult routine."
Socko puts a burst of flak gunfire into the body. The carnage continues unabated. Everyone is in too much shock to do anything but point and stare. Socko is the only one who acts maybe the only one who can amidst the insanity. Socko rounds the dock and spots a tanker at anchor. While still running at Flank Speed Socko puts a few deck gun rounds into the helpless ship as a fire breaks out on deck.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/31.jpg
The crew of the tanker try to fight the fire like the valiant sailors they are. Socko cuts them down without mercy only pausing to laugh or take a sip of his coconut drink, with umbrella as Lorient burns.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/37.jpg
Socko circles the harbor throwing all his hate at the world.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/42.jpg
Nothing escapes his anger.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/44.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/48.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/50.jpg
The barrel of the flak gun glows white-hot and the deck gun continues to fire as Socko continues his rampage through Lorient Harbor. It is then that he clamps his brass button eye on an incoming U-boat. The Chief and I shout until we can shout no more but it is too late. The unsuspecting boat does not even see Socko behind the gun until after the first barrage. Socko catches them completely unaware.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/59.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/66.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/69.jpg
Socko is reloading when the Luftwaffe shows up. 2 B-109's swarm over the boat rocking it with gunfire as a greeting. Socko curses and sends back a greeting of his own, the planes continue to circle but give the Sock a wide berth.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/71.jpg
Socko turns his attention back to the other U-boat. "There can be only one!" the sock trumpets as he slides up beside.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/73.jpg
Without warning, or thought or even common sense Socko turns U-123 on a collision course with the U-boat not once taking his cotton finger of the trigger.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/75.jpg
The two boats collide with the now familiar sound of rending metal. U-123 rises up out of the water and over the other boat.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/79.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/80.jpg
An explosion rips the other boat wide open. It quickly fills with seawater and slips below the water.
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/89.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/91.jpg
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%202/93.jpg
Socko cheers over the screams from shore.
Socko turns back towards the docks. The Chief and I reverse our course and sprint back towards the docks. As the boat pulls up something goes horribly wrong down below. The boat seems to lift out of the water and breaks in half a split second later an explosion obliterates the boat, the dock and half the port. The Chief and I are knocked off our feet by the blast as a wall of fire flashes over us. I come to with a loud ringing in my ears. I head for what was once the port of Lorient and can only stare in horror as Socko, his cotton body riddled with smoking holes, pulls himself onto the beach the salt water dripping off his single brass button eye as the fire from the carnage crackle with an low level roar. He looks up and smiles.
"Did you see that!?" I mumble something about all of France seeing that. It might have been the concussion, the loss of blood or the fact that my brain could no longer cope with the situation but the blackness rose up and I welcomed it.
I wake up in Whispering Pines a type of resort for the very very nervous. I spend the next few days painting, playing chess and eating apple sauce. I am told, when the doctors think I can take it, that Socko was taken away for an audience with Hitler. Adolph wanted to meet the sock that was responsible for the destruction of Lorient and two full U-boat crews in less than an hour. I figure that will be the last time I ever see Socko. If only that were true.
A few days later the door to my room explodes and silhouetted against the harsh white light is a shape I know all too well. Two feet high with a scowl on his cotton mug Socko steps into the room wearing the uniform of a Grand Admiral.
"Get off your pity pot Nancy we have a war to fight." I know it is futile to protest and gather up my uniform. On the train to our next assignment Socko fills me in on his meeting with Hitler.
He says with a smirk that Hitler came in acting all big and bad screaming and swearing in German and five minutes later left the room crying like a little girl. All the little cotton sock would say was that he bit Hitler somewhere...HARD. Socko was promoted to Grand Admiral as Raeder has apparently taken a leave of absence.
The train stops off in Germany just long enough for Socko to grab a bucket of Colonel Klink's Berlin Fried Chicken. Germany's answer to an obscure restaurant in Kentucky of all places. Colonel Klink's secret recipe of one herb and two spices (one of which I'm pretty sure is sand) seems to be Socko's latest addiction. He eats the entire bucket with great relish as he details our next assignment.
We are going to La Spezia assigned to the 29th flotilla. La Spezia? Nobody every goes to La Spezia when I express this to Socko he merely nods and smiles cruelly with his grease soaked mouth.
"They'll never see us coming Nancy." Is all he says until later when he coughs up a chicken bone.
We are to take command of a Type VIIB U-101. Socko has been studying the boats of the fleet and claims that he VIIB is the most successful. I think he just misses U-1 but would never express this to him. I am also told that I have been demoted to fifth officer. There are only two officers on board other than the Grand Admiral and myself but Socko tells me I should be happy to get to go along at all after crying over my deck chair and using all my sick time at once. The mention of my chair stirs a deep sadness in me but everyone has lost so much and that allows me to push it away.
We arrive in La Spezia and unpack. The next morning I head down to the boat and see Socko is already up. He is loading the boat with bag after bag of cotton balls a folder marked top secret beside him.
I ask him if this is some kind of joke. He merely nods grimly to the folder and mutters,
"For this one Sonny Jim we're going to need all the balls we can get."
http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif
Thanks for reading. I've been on a bit of a creative break while I updated my system and got used to GW. I cannot wait for Silent Hunter IV. Hope everyone is well. Keep Hunting.