The Commander had come back from furlough and we went out again on the next day. This time, our task was to search the Strait of Otranto and around Brindisi.
We cruised up and down for five days already and it was frustrating. The Italian armored cruiser San Giorgio has appeared out of Valona a couple of times but every time we were too far away to be able to reach him. One time he came south from the island Saseno. The other time he came out from the north. This is when we realized again how inadequate we were with our low rate of speed. They actually toyed with us and we thought we could hear them laughing at us. The Commander was spitting mad. Even if he didn't let loose at us we could see it in his face. The whole time the toothpick in his mouth told the story. We looked at each other sort of cross-eyed as if we could somehow do something about it, that the Germans sent us these slow submarines.
And then we met one of those German Uboats. It came by very close and they called to us that they had sunk 120,000 tons. Our Commander replied with congratulations, then turned to the Second with "And we can cruise around with your yawl-boats." "There is a bigger difference between us then between a freight train and an express." answered the Second. After that both of them spat overboard and blew their anger into the air with the smoke of a cigarette.
At night, we charged the battery again while floating along with the current. We were in the middle of the Otranto Strait and had to be cautious. Sometimes we saw the fishing boats send signals to each other. They were short messages. Yes, these fishing boats tried to make trouble for the submarines too, but we were always able to break through. If they don't get any worse then it won't hinder us much.
"There! What kind of noise is that?" Asks the Second at the muffled sound of an engine. "That must be a large submarine. Wake the Commander in a hurry!" He jumps up fast and is in the tower in a flash. "Down to 8 meters! Dive fast or it will be too late." he called from the tower. "Starboard torpedo ready! Five points to larboard!" "Course is five points larboard." repeats the helmsman. Everyone is tense. Why does it take so long? "Course?" it comes from above. The helmsman repeats the course again. "Gone! Too late!" says the Commander. "For God's sake, what did you do?" he asks the helmsman. "You are a jackass! Instead of going five points more to larboard, you left it at five points larboard and kept on going. Now he is gone." And then, turning to us, "You can thank this one here." Then he goes forward to the officer's quarter and hits the couch. The Torpedo-master is very pale. His eyes are sparkling like those of a wild animal that is ready to pounce. The helmsman is fully confused and still tries to defend himself by saying, "I did report that the course was five points to larboard." "It's alright already," the Commander calls to him, "We were both at fault."
We turned northward and went back to our station. We were already out an extra day anyway. When the Commander returned from reporting to the Flotilla Commander he showed a gloomy face.
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I cannot help but wonder if Franz later wrote these from his field notes (or should that be sea notes) and was composing a manuscript to be published. Why? Because he writes very well for 19 - unbelievably well! Or perhaps he simply wanted to rewrite it for a more compete personal history. Anyway, he is getting his book published now. Also I see how important it is to start at the beginning of the story. His comment about the commander's toothpick had me in stitches as I recall what he had said previously. (July 14) He paints a good picture.
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