Coming Onboard the S.M.S.U.B.XV

Certain clothes always remained on the boat and were, in a way, just lent to the crew for service onboard. It was the official outfit and designation of fitness for duty.

Each of us grabbed a pair of boots, not new, but in good shape and even if they were a little too big, it did not make a difference. There was not much choice. A wool sweater including a hood, a raincoat and storm hat, and two blankets that were quite thin. It wasn't cold inside the boat and anyway, we never got out of our clothes while we were at sea. In any case, they did not make a good mattress but when we had the proper measure of exhaustion, we could sleep fairly well. The cap ribbon, "S.M.S.U.B.XV" marked the new man as a full worthy member. And only after an apparent showing of service ambition and with the approval of the Torpedo Master could a man be designated either "First Class" or to the reserve crew.

For the two of us, only the first class came into consideration. We wanted to see and experience something. Another reason was that the reserve crew had to stay in port during an operation and did not receive the extra measure of food. That alone was reason enough to be part of the regular crew. Imagine! Besides the regular rations, we got condensed milk and butter, shellfish, tuna, all kinds of stewed fruit and canned spreads, real Hungarian Salami and more stuff. So many things we did not even know by name, let alone to have ever eaten such delicacies.

The other point was that we noticed when a regular boatman was telling a story, the people gathered around the storyteller. Those from the reserve crew stood absent-mindedly around and once in a while made untimely remarks which resulted in either pitiful glances from the regulars or even admonishment or laughter. In no way did we want this. We wanted to be full-fledged boatmen.

Up at five o'clock for reveille and a half hour later we were already onboard the "U.B.XV" and started with a thorough cleanup "Because that's the best way to get to know the boat." said the Torpedo Master.

"Ouch! Damned!" I jerked back after I hit my head.

"Na, Na, not so hot-headed. You can see for yourself that it is a bit tighter here that on the Budapest." said the Torpedo Master. "This is after all a submarine and not a dance hall." And later he told us, "Look at these levers and wheels very closely. You will get more familiar with them in a few days. and this gyroscope...did you ever see one like this?"

"No." I said, and was a little ashamed.

"Well" he said, "It is going to dance around for you plenty. That means keeping a cool head and eyes open. No getting nervous when the seas get rough, otherwise you will always be off course and the Commander won't like that. He is otherwise a good man, but is very particular about the steering which is understandable."

"Jawohl!" I say, and rub my head as I look at the ventilation lever that juts down from the ceiling and on which I banged my precious head so hard that it was not only blue but also swollen.

Stefan passes by and takes revenge for the remarks I made when we returned from Cattaro. Mockingly, he said, "Franz, I keep telling you, what's big is also clumsy!"

To which I reply, " Not everyone can be a midget."