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humjog
08-22-2006, 11:05 AM
Here is part four. Enjoy.


PART 1

As I look through my periscope at bearing 347 and see a fishing boat peacefully going its way I cannot help but think how ironic the situation is. Fate, which is currently running underwater at 40 knots with enough explosives to... save a few fish, can be quite cruel and is always unheeding of us humans.

Everything started in 1940. The events unraveled themselves which such rapidity and confusion that only to speak of them leaves me puzzled as to how I , Herman Rustburg, could have been caught up in them. Perhaps the madness of my nation was contagious; I never thought I would one day be part of such a terrible crusade. As the supreme race, we should father and guide the unfortunates, not destroy them.

Yet, truth be told, I did join this terrible crusade. In an act of complete unselfishness and altruism I joined the war in the hope of saving a few of my countrymen. One might say I was drafted yet that is quite inaccurate. I wisely evaded the call-up by hiding in a cottage I had by the side of the sea. As I had planned, two SS officers came storming in my hut 2 days after the conscription. You see, this ruse put me in a position of power and importance. How could they deny the fact that I was of vital importance to them if they took the time to personally come and fetch me at my vacation house?

Turns out a gross error was made. When they read that I fished out fifty thousand tons of fish out of the ocean every year, they didn€t doubt for a second that my fishing company Albatross could have anything to do with it. I was immediately promoted to captain and assigned a u-boat. I knew very little of the functioning of the U-boat, yet as a fervent defender of truth, I knew that revealing this one to the officers would mean that my dead body could never again guard it€s sacredness. Acting the part that was expected of me, I silently accepted the honors.

PART 2

Assigned to the 2nd flotilla, I met my assistant in Wilhelmshaven. Crew shortage, which I secretly think was partly responsible for my presence, signified that I would only have 1 sub-officer to assist me. His name: Gutenjeun Klagskig. His 6 feet 5 inches and deep blue eyes contributed to his mysterious character. Yet as very few people who look mysterious he had the characteristic of also looking very dumb. A large lump on his forehead, undoubtedly acquired by bumping his head roaming through the submarine, certainly did not help his case. I did not know whether to take this news as good or bad. On one hand, my incompetency would surely go unnoticed by such a man, on the other how the hell were we going to maneuver our boat. I knew that our mission would involve us leaving port and I was very uncertain if such an accomplishment was within reach.

Nothing much can be said about the leaving party. My memory was drowned by alcohol and only a few shreds of it survived. There I met the 5 petty officers and 4 sailors that would obey me and Gutenjeun.. We left the next day with 1 petty officer short. My men told me he had been called back to his former function, fisherman. The nation needed food and all fisherman, farmer, growers and cultivators were called back home to feed the nation. Coincidence has it that he is one of my employees. He works for Albatross. Let us call the act of facing danger without seeing it bravery for as I now recall; no fear entered my thought at the moment of our departure. Unfortunately, I was not the only brave man onboard

Very few know the details of the life of a U-boat commander. Seeing I do not fit in this category, let me tell you the details of the life of a fisherman trying his best to command 9 brave men in a type VIIC submarine. Only the guidance of our audacious Fuhrur could lead such an enterprise to a good end.

Part 3

Multitasking was the key. I decided that every sailor would have to be competent in all station if we wanted to have any chance of doing anything with our boat. Seeing I could not teach the men, Trial and error was our only hope. After a week or so of this mondus operandi I came to the conclusion that trails did not work and so only half a hope was left: error. That error was Frankoel Hommel. Apparently, he lived on the U-boat because I was quite sure not to have seen him at the official departure ceremony. I did not consider myself a religious person but a man cannot stay untouched by the sight of Frankoel. How else could such a man exist? God had obviously doodled on a piece of paper and in a moment of distraction had given life to these forms. These 4 foot 2 inches of dissymmetrical height were creepy and unnatural. His right arm and left leg were grossly taller than their opposite members. His eyes totally and irremediably blue, no speck of white surfaced. His ears protruded from his face and curled downwards because of their colossal size. The lack of hair on the totality of his body added to the strangeness of his figure. His tongue had mysteriously been cut out and no speech could be heard of him. Yet he was our savior, our half hope found. When assigned on deck he could man the deck gun, flack gun, stand watch, sleep and cook simultaneously and with great efficiency. When rotation was made, he came under and manned the hydrophone, radio, engines, the entire command room and all the other stations of which I still do not know the names.

I was told (written) by Frankoel that our mission was to patrol a certain grid, BF 13 if I remember correctly. He drew a line on the map and indicated we would take that route. I could make no objection to this, I had no argument to support one and communicating with Frankoel was very dull and slow, so I wisely accepted. This route brought us around England by its northernmost tip and came down back to the south or Ireland reaching a spot In the Atlantic to the north-west of France. I thought such a trip would be vey romantic. Suffice to say it wasn€t. Apart from me, not one person was normal. Two sailors, aged 63 and 71, constantly roamed the u-boat searching for their dental plates. Having also lost their memories, they mutually and persistently babbled accusations of theft when they yet had their dental plates stuck in their mouths €¦

Part 4

€¦ Sleep was nearly impossible due to Gutenjeun. Unable to sit still, he continuously wandered and inevitably bumped his head on every door frame he crossed. Added to this periodical thump-thump-thump was the snoring of the sailor we called €˜€log€€. Even from the engines room, where we had locked him up due to his intrusive insomnia habits, he could be heard. Worst of all was Timitoken (where do I get all these weird names?) At only 18, he was the youngest sailor. His complete lack of talent combined with his inextinguishable eagerness to learn made of him the most annoying brat in the kreigsmarine. Every few minutes, his overzealous presence was upon me. Why is the red light beeping? Are we in the merge? What are torkhedoes for? What was that noise? Can I listen in the hippophone?



My saneness was saved by an enemy ship. The break in monotony was vital for my mind. Frankoel had spotted it and had submerged the vessel. I watched in the attack periscope; meanwhile Frankoel zoomed to and fro uttering frenetic guttural sounds. His excitement brought the rest of the crew in an admiring trance. We all watched as he single-handedly prepared the strike. He tried to use the attack periscope but not wanting to look weak in front of the whole crew I signaled him to use the observation scope. A moment later, I took a glance in the recognition manual which Frankoel had left open on a page illustrating a merchant ship with all its incomprehensible characteristics. I was not shocked to make out the same ship in my scope. To no one€s surprise, Timitoken was dogging Frankoel everywhere asking him how he could help. 5 minutes later, Timitoken was locked up in the toilets as 2 torpedoes were homing on our prey. I watch with wonder in the periscope as they successfully hit the merchant and exploded. A great felling of joy rushed through my body. Adrenalin was pumping through my blood and I knew that I had accomplished a great deed. I was proud.


This feeling lasted 5 minutes. We then retook our course and normal life continued. We were know heading s-s-w towards Ireland. Ever since I had sunk a merchant, a feeling of guilt gnawed inside me. I could not help think of all theses sailors dying due to one man- me. I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to save the unlucky men of my next target.

The next important event occurred 2 weeks after our encounter. We had dove to 15 meters because of heavy weather which had caused sea sickness to the whole crew, except Frankoel of course. I was trying to sleep but unable because of my annoying crew and especially Gutenjeun who were making so much noise. Suddenly, and out of nowhere, I heard it: the noise that every U-boat captain fears. The bone chilling €˜€Ping€€ that seems to emerge from everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. I knew what I had to do and I wasted no time in doing so, the next few decisions I made would determine the fate of my crew and I was not going to let them down. How? By bringing them down, way down.

humjog
08-22-2006, 11:05 AM
Here is part four. Enjoy.


PART 1

As I look through my periscope at bearing 347 and see a fishing boat peacefully going its way I cannot help but think how ironic the situation is. Fate, which is currently running underwater at 40 knots with enough explosives to... save a few fish, can be quite cruel and is always unheeding of us humans.

Everything started in 1940. The events unraveled themselves which such rapidity and confusion that only to speak of them leaves me puzzled as to how I , Herman Rustburg, could have been caught up in them. Perhaps the madness of my nation was contagious; I never thought I would one day be part of such a terrible crusade. As the supreme race, we should father and guide the unfortunates, not destroy them.

Yet, truth be told, I did join this terrible crusade. In an act of complete unselfishness and altruism I joined the war in the hope of saving a few of my countrymen. One might say I was drafted yet that is quite inaccurate. I wisely evaded the call-up by hiding in a cottage I had by the side of the sea. As I had planned, two SS officers came storming in my hut 2 days after the conscription. You see, this ruse put me in a position of power and importance. How could they deny the fact that I was of vital importance to them if they took the time to personally come and fetch me at my vacation house?

Turns out a gross error was made. When they read that I fished out fifty thousand tons of fish out of the ocean every year, they didn€t doubt for a second that my fishing company Albatross could have anything to do with it. I was immediately promoted to captain and assigned a u-boat. I knew very little of the functioning of the U-boat, yet as a fervent defender of truth, I knew that revealing this one to the officers would mean that my dead body could never again guard it€s sacredness. Acting the part that was expected of me, I silently accepted the honors.

PART 2

Assigned to the 2nd flotilla, I met my assistant in Wilhelmshaven. Crew shortage, which I secretly think was partly responsible for my presence, signified that I would only have 1 sub-officer to assist me. His name: Gutenjeun Klagskig. His 6 feet 5 inches and deep blue eyes contributed to his mysterious character. Yet as very few people who look mysterious he had the characteristic of also looking very dumb. A large lump on his forehead, undoubtedly acquired by bumping his head roaming through the submarine, certainly did not help his case. I did not know whether to take this news as good or bad. On one hand, my incompetency would surely go unnoticed by such a man, on the other how the hell were we going to maneuver our boat. I knew that our mission would involve us leaving port and I was very uncertain if such an accomplishment was within reach.

Nothing much can be said about the leaving party. My memory was drowned by alcohol and only a few shreds of it survived. There I met the 5 petty officers and 4 sailors that would obey me and Gutenjeun.. We left the next day with 1 petty officer short. My men told me he had been called back to his former function, fisherman. The nation needed food and all fisherman, farmer, growers and cultivators were called back home to feed the nation. Coincidence has it that he is one of my employees. He works for Albatross. Let us call the act of facing danger without seeing it bravery for as I now recall; no fear entered my thought at the moment of our departure. Unfortunately, I was not the only brave man onboard

Very few know the details of the life of a U-boat commander. Seeing I do not fit in this category, let me tell you the details of the life of a fisherman trying his best to command 9 brave men in a type VIIC submarine. Only the guidance of our audacious Fuhrur could lead such an enterprise to a good end.

Part 3

Multitasking was the key. I decided that every sailor would have to be competent in all station if we wanted to have any chance of doing anything with our boat. Seeing I could not teach the men, Trial and error was our only hope. After a week or so of this mondus operandi I came to the conclusion that trails did not work and so only half a hope was left: error. That error was Frankoel Hommel. Apparently, he lived on the U-boat because I was quite sure not to have seen him at the official departure ceremony. I did not consider myself a religious person but a man cannot stay untouched by the sight of Frankoel. How else could such a man exist? God had obviously doodled on a piece of paper and in a moment of distraction had given life to these forms. These 4 foot 2 inches of dissymmetrical height were creepy and unnatural. His right arm and left leg were grossly taller than their opposite members. His eyes totally and irremediably blue, no speck of white surfaced. His ears protruded from his face and curled downwards because of their colossal size. The lack of hair on the totality of his body added to the strangeness of his figure. His tongue had mysteriously been cut out and no speech could be heard of him. Yet he was our savior, our half hope found. When assigned on deck he could man the deck gun, flack gun, stand watch, sleep and cook simultaneously and with great efficiency. When rotation was made, he came under and manned the hydrophone, radio, engines, the entire command room and all the other stations of which I still do not know the names.

I was told (written) by Frankoel that our mission was to patrol a certain grid, BF 13 if I remember correctly. He drew a line on the map and indicated we would take that route. I could make no objection to this, I had no argument to support one and communicating with Frankoel was very dull and slow, so I wisely accepted. This route brought us around England by its northernmost tip and came down back to the south or Ireland reaching a spot In the Atlantic to the north-west of France. I thought such a trip would be vey romantic. Suffice to say it wasn€t. Apart from me, not one person was normal. Two sailors, aged 63 and 71, constantly roamed the u-boat searching for their dental plates. Having also lost their memories, they mutually and persistently babbled accusations of theft when they yet had their dental plates stuck in their mouths €¦

Part 4

€¦ Sleep was nearly impossible due to Gutenjeun. Unable to sit still, he continuously wandered and inevitably bumped his head on every door frame he crossed. Added to this periodical thump-thump-thump was the snoring of the sailor we called €˜€log€€. Even from the engines room, where we had locked him up due to his intrusive insomnia habits, he could be heard. Worst of all was Timitoken (where do I get all these weird names?) At only 18, he was the youngest sailor. His complete lack of talent combined with his inextinguishable eagerness to learn made of him the most annoying brat in the kreigsmarine. Every few minutes, his overzealous presence was upon me. Why is the red light beeping? Are we in the merge? What are torkhedoes for? What was that noise? Can I listen in the hippophone?



My saneness was saved by an enemy ship. The break in monotony was vital for my mind. Frankoel had spotted it and had submerged the vessel. I watched in the attack periscope; meanwhile Frankoel zoomed to and fro uttering frenetic guttural sounds. His excitement brought the rest of the crew in an admiring trance. We all watched as he single-handedly prepared the strike. He tried to use the attack periscope but not wanting to look weak in front of the whole crew I signaled him to use the observation scope. A moment later, I took a glance in the recognition manual which Frankoel had left open on a page illustrating a merchant ship with all its incomprehensible characteristics. I was not shocked to make out the same ship in my scope. To no one€s surprise, Timitoken was dogging Frankoel everywhere asking him how he could help. 5 minutes later, Timitoken was locked up in the toilets as 2 torpedoes were homing on our prey. I watch with wonder in the periscope as they successfully hit the merchant and exploded. A great felling of joy rushed through my body. Adrenalin was pumping through my blood and I knew that I had accomplished a great deed. I was proud.


This feeling lasted 5 minutes. We then retook our course and normal life continued. We were know heading s-s-w towards Ireland. Ever since I had sunk a merchant, a feeling of guilt gnawed inside me. I could not help think of all theses sailors dying due to one man- me. I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to save the unlucky men of my next target.

The next important event occurred 2 weeks after our encounter. We had dove to 15 meters because of heavy weather which had caused sea sickness to the whole crew, except Frankoel of course. I was trying to sleep but unable because of my annoying crew and especially Gutenjeun who were making so much noise. Suddenly, and out of nowhere, I heard it: the noise that every U-boat captain fears. The bone chilling €˜€Ping€€ that seems to emerge from everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. I knew what I had to do and I wasted no time in doing so, the next few decisions I made would determine the fate of my crew and I was not going to let them down. How? By bringing them down, way down.

tuddley3
08-22-2006, 11:29 AM
<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-title">quote:</div><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-content">Gutenjeun </div></BLOCKQUOTE>
What do you do with Gutenjeun when running silent, strap him down. I love your sense of humor.

Then from pure gutt renching laughter to total suspence. And a little sad for the crew of the downed ship. normally I would feel joy, but you made it sound so surreal.

http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/34.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-very-happy.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/blink.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/bigtears.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/clap.gif

Where2Wolf
08-22-2006, 01:37 PM
I love the twist you give your story. Real fun to read. Keep up the good work.

jlpilkey
08-22-2006, 10:25 PM
just have as i said about the other parts of your story "good" cant wait for part 5