The Saboteur

By Paul F. Hammond

The United States had not been attacked by a foreign military force since the war of 1812. Yet in July 1918, a German U-boat shelled local shipping off a little town on Cape Cod, Massachusetts. That strategically absurd but actual event sets the scene for a compelling tale of innocence, survival, and honor.

A young student has been forced into the Imperial German Navy because of his language translation skills. On a huge German U-boat, he translates US Navy radio traffic as the submarine raids the US Atlantic Coast. After enduring horrible conditions onboard the U-boat, the young man risks everything to escape, swimming ashore to the safety of America. However, he finds himself facing poisonous anti-German sentiment and the rabid ambitions of a fanatical gang of vigilantes. His survival depends on the actions of a few honorable menmembers of the local coastal life-saving service and two journalists covering the resulting huge news story. A crewman off the hated and feared attack U-boat has come ashore!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 26, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504916615

Paul F. Hammond

Paul F. Hammond’s family settled on Cape Cod at the beginning of the eighteenth century. He has long been a student of Cape Cod history. After a lengthy business career, he retired as senior officer and principal of a national market research firm. He and his wife, Paige, live in Connecticut and the Bahamas. He has authored two other historical novels, “Interference!,” a time travel adventure to British-occupied Newport during the American Revolution, and “Isaac Rules,” an account of a young first mate’s survival on a nineteenth-century schooner facing piracy, a terrifying hurricane, weeks adrift at sea, and a profound test of faith.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Kapitanleutenant Moser stopped his frantic swiveling of the periscope. Dive! Flood tanks! Dive! Dive! Battle stations! Secure the boat!

Moments later, eyes wide, he shouted, Less than five hundred meters, destroyer coming fast!

Seconds ticked by. Finally the hatches clanged shut and the submarine slowly started to slide underwater. Johan could see the water inching up the conning tower window and hear the water above his head - a low roar. He hurried to check the main hatch was locked.

Kapitanleutnant Moser leaned into the periscope grabbing the two handles of the viewfinder. Spreading his feet apart for balance he twisted the handles. Breathless, he roared Here it comes…right for us! Rig for collision! Rig for depth charges! In periscope!

U-157 was finally sinking. Two meters registered on the manometer (depth) gauge at the far side of Centrale, the control room, then five meters, moments later it read eight as the u-boat pitched nearly headlong for the sea bottom. The water noise was rapidly louder. Johan held on with both hands. He relaxed slightly as the light in Centrale diffused into the dim reddish-yellow color that always flooded the control room once submerged.

Kapitan shouted, "How did he miss? He missed the asparagus! (The nickname u-boat commanders used for the periscope.) Report damages. Turn off that stupid phonograph!"

A few shouts of slight leaks, a broken wrist, and damage to items not properly secured. Torpedo room - no damage; Engine room - no damage.

Depth-charge bombs started to explode near the submarine.

Moser yelled, They’re below us! Below us! The idiot - he’s setting the charges to go off too far below. We’re just passing twelve meters! He must be setting for 30 meters or more! First the fool misses ramming us at pointblank range, then he shells us with depth bombs set far too low! Impossible! Stay here, level off instantly! Steer one hundred eighty degrees; we’ll turn back north later.

Explosions continued and the boat staggered with each but none that terrified Johan. They were just loud and shook the boat. Soon even these diminished.

Seen that before, the kapitan announced to no one in particular. The Americans are stupid, inexperienced, poorly trained. Even as soon as we dive their bombs explode far below us - always below. The English made that mistake often…too often. Maybe the stupid Americans are learning from the stupid English. Or, maybe their bombs are too heavy, they sink…fools, so many fools! Moser grimaced, Silly, not a combat strategy, just silly and stupid. This cruise will be among stupid enemies!

Crash! another explosion, this one closer.

Level at twelve meters, damn you! His face red with fury, the kapitan glared at Sub-Leutenent Lippka, who was in charge of the dive station.

Johan looked anxiously around Centrale and up inside the conning tower, but there was nothing much to report.

Pretty boy what are you doing? Damn you Polish puke, move here! You’re to be at the wireless listening to the Americans. You’re not there…move Polish, move dammit!

Johan stumbled onto the little wooden stool in front of the wireless radio. He put on the headset, covering the ear pieces with his hands. He couldn’t hear a thing unless he blocked out some of the undersea noises in the boat - the whir of the dynamos, the pumps, the buzzing ventilation machine, chatter, orders being issued, creaking and groaning of the hull, sometimes depth bomb explosions, and on and on. The noises were constant.

Twenty minutes passed and suddenly there was a commanding voice on the wireless. Johan translated out loud. Where’s the u-boat, Commander? Where is it? Can you hear it, see it? Any oil slick? What’s the status of your pursuit?

With static the replying voice was breaking up. Johan continued to translate. Another voice - Must have hit its scope, sir. No slick, no way to hear him on the hydrophone, too much other noise, will continue course and speed, dropping charges, sir.

Damn Commander, what else can you suggest? If you see nothing indicating the u-boat now, why do you think you should continue what you’re doing? Is that sensible? Make two-mile runs from your present position, west to east, each a quarter mile apart, until you’ve covered two miles distance south from here. Use your hydrophones, double your lookouts, drop charges every two hundred and fifty yards, and eyeball the spot of each charge when the explosion surfaces. Got it?

Yes sir, the other voice responded.

Johan looked to Kapitan Moser. Finally for the first time he could remember, Johan saw Moser actually smile and even grunt a little laugh. We’re now safe from idiots. Moser began, That American destroyer was fast but not skilled. Fast isn’t enough. Maintain present speed. Continue one half hour on course one hundred eighty degrees, than to ninety degrees for one hour, and then back finally to a new course toward eastern Long Island to intercept cargo ships clearing east of Long Island. We will place a set of mines, find a channel marker and place the mines there. We will later turn for Cape Cod.

At twenty-one hundred hours we will run on the surface to recharge our storage batteries.

The U-157 was huge - fifteen hundred tons displaced on the surface, 213 feet long. It was- a super size submarine launched at Kiel in 1918. It was part of the new U-151 Class. Capable of extremely lengthy voyages, it was one of a handful designed explicitly to raid American shipping off the US east coast. It was heavily armed with eighteen torpedoes, nearly one hundred mines, four torpedo tubes forward, with two aft, and two powerful 105mm. deck guns - themselves fully capable of sinking most cargo ships. It was far more formidable than the earlier u-boats which sank millions of tons of Allied shipping, nearly forcing England to sue for peace. Some committed horrific misdeeds like sinking hospital ships, passenger liners and mail boats with passengers as well as similar barbaric acts. Such behavior made the German u-boat the most feared and hated naval weapon in the war. The Imperial German Navy expected to scare Americans - finally entering the war against Germany in force - into avoiding high-seas confrontations once faced with the might of superior German naval technology coupled with the occasional savagery of the u-boats.

By 1918 the kaiser had once again ordered unrestricted seaborne warfare…all vessels at sea were fair targets for German naval attacks - no exceptions.

The U-157 was tasked to cruise American waters to attack American shipping, laying dozens of mines outside American ports and eventually destroying a specific target - the French transatlantic cable at its American terminus on Cape Cod.

Later that day, U-157 was making a steady twelve knots on a slightly choppy sea, an easy passage after the morning’s excitement. Johan had learned from American radio traffic that the charging destroyer was accompanied by one light cruiser and three other destroyers. They had been hurrying north to escort a convoy sailing from Boston in the late afternoon.

Unlucky for U-157 the warships arrived just as a lookout on the conning tower spotted a single three-mast schooner piled high with wood. The kapitan started tracking the schooner. Fortunately for the schooner, a lookout on the lead destroyer had spotted the telltale mast and water spray trail of the u-boat’s periscope (asparagus).

Now three hours past that escape, a crewman stationed atop the u-boat’s conning tower spotted movement on the far northern horizon, Sail five points on the starboard bow’, he shouted. Kapitan raised his Zeiss binoculars, Yah, three-mast square rig, a bark likely, old-style rig. Head for her."

A few minutes passed, and the u-boat was fast approaching the sailor. Submerge, so we are a nice surprise! the kapitan ordered. The boat settled at five meters below the surface. Kapitan watched the bark through the periscope. No change in course, no urgency, just sailing comfortably, maybe five or six knots. Let’s take this fat old bark!

The u-boat closed fast. At five hundred meters, Moser surfaced the u-boat and ordered the forward deck gun to fire a warning shot over the bark’s bow. A fountain of water erupted just beyond her. Men dashed around her deck, but she held her course. Another round landed right beside the bark. She hove to and two sailors climbed aloft to furl the foremast topsail, signaling surrender. Minutes later they raised a white and blue pennant of acknowledgement, conceding they knew what the shot across the bow meant. Kapitan ordered a small boat tender under Sub-Lieutenant Meisel with four armed men to the bark. She was the Emma Willard out of Damariscotta, Maine with a full load of wood for Bridgeport, Connecticut. The sub-lieutenant returned with the bark’s captain, a whiskery old Canadian whose Maritimes accent was nearly impossible for Johan to translate. Finally, frustrated and irritated by the long delay, kapitan sent the sub-lieutenant back to pickup the rest of the six-man crew and blow up the Emma Willard using a box of TNT - a method of sinking that saved precious torpedoes and deck gun ammunition. The crewmen were a scraggily lot - unkempt, unshaven, two were even barefoot. They were sent below to a corner of the crew mess later to be released to a passing ship. They didn’t seem to care much about the loss of their ship; just shrugged and talked quietly amongst themselves. For most of the u-boat crew the only interesting development was the small collection of fresh vegetables found onboard the bark - victuals to the captain of the ship about to be scuttled. He seemed more distressed about losing the food than the vessel he skippered. The vegetables - potatoes, lettuce, carrots, celery, a few partially spoiled tomatoes, dozens of string beans and pods full of peas - would be a welcome respite from the u-boat’s daily canned grub - usually unknown, ugly-looking, bad-smelling porridges and slimy mystery meats.

Suddenly an explosion sent shock waves slamming against the submarine. The TNT broke the back of the old bark. Within a scant few minutes she slid below the surface bow first. None of her crew asked to witness her disappearance.

The u-boat continued patrolling just beyond the eastern end of Long Island. Several lookouts peered south and west seeking more victims. Finally, in late afternoon, a steamer arrived from the direction of New York. Kapitan ordered all lookouts in. Minutes later the u-boat was five meters down with the periscope awash. There was no wake as the U-157 was virtually stopped, settled into an ambush of the approaching steamer.

Moser exclaimed, Ah, this one is a fierce tub, a deck gun mounted forward no less. We must introduce her to sea combat! Be ready…Schweckerle, no mistakes…be certain the torpedo room is prepared to fire the port torpedo…it must fire true! We will teach this American fool a lessen…no!?

Several minutes passed, the kapitan looked at Johan, Again where are you? Get to the radio Polish boy. Must I always remind you, order you like you’re an idiot? He waved his arm gesturing Johan toward the radio, a moment later Johan was kicked hard on the back of his right leg as he hurried to the radio stool.

Ready torpedo room, ready? On my count fire in 10 seconds…fire!…shift to the starboard torpedo and standby!

Kapitan counted staring into the asparagus lens, his body shifting, legs nervously scuttling left and right. He let the steamer’s bow cut the targeting line on the periscope sight - first the bow, then bridge, next the funnel. Fire starboard torpedo! As always after each torpedo firing, the u-boat trembled lightly.

In what seemed to Johan at least a minute but certainly took only seconds, the u-boat was pushed violently back as a crescendo of noise crashed aboard.

A hit…a huge blast, water spraying far above the steamer’s funnel…she’s stopped dead!

Kapitan stepped back from the asparagus lens, Surface the boat, surface. Man the forward deck gun, bring a full load of shells.

Men raced up the ladder and out the main hatch, As the gun crew arrived at the forward deck gun there was the distinctive rattle of machinegun fire first striking the hull, then the conning tower. One deck gun crewman fell backward into the sea. The others reached the gun, released the safety, cocked the trigger mechanism. Another spray of machine gun fire came from the steamer which was now listing heavily to port.

The Kapitan screamed, They are mad! Firing on us in their condition? We will kill them all! Fire the starboard torpedo, blow the bastard to hell!

Johan caught the slightest grimace from Lieutenant Bock, the first officer, but Bock as usual instantly repeated the Kapitan’s order.

In moments the second torpedo slammed into the steamer aft of the first. The ship quickly settled back, clouds of black smoke covered the entire stern, and streamed into the sky.

The radio came loudly alive. "MayDay, MayDay, this is the one-stack cargo steamer Edna Jeanne enroute to Newport, Rhode Island. We’re being sunk by a German submarine, fired on and hit twice by torpedoes! We’ll be going down in minutes. Huge black smoke marks our position. MayDay, MayDay, help us, help! We are approximately 10 miles due east of the East End harbor entrance and 26 miles south of the Lightship Nantucket."

Pause, then "MayDay, this is the Edna Jeanne again, the damn sub is firing a deck gun at us as we sink. No sign of help, just firing furiously with that big damn deck gun! Please, all ships, race to our position!"

Silence. Johan finished translating the Edna Jeanne MayDay message.

Hold this position, I will go on deck.

Kapitan climbed the ladder to the main deck hatch with a few quick steps. He watched silently as the steamer sank stern first. He appeared disinterested, turning back to climb the ladder down to Centrale. Oscar Von Nostitz slid past Johan, gave him a little tap on the shoulder and stood at the hatch ladder. He backed away when a high black boot stepped onto the ladder. The captain slid down. Secure the boat. Come to course zero nine zero. We’ll run on the surface. Bock, find this lightship the foolish captain just spoke of. It will be a nice target for a minefield.

Oscar and two other crewman were sent up to the platform atop the conning tower as lookouts. Moments later Johan was ordered by Petty Officer Behncke to bring up a pail of beer.

Oscar gulped the flat, warm beer. Johan, your beer is just awful!

You’re the one drinking it, smiled Johan, not me.

Its so stinking hot in the u-boat I’ll drink anything, even your beer!

Johan nodded. I just heard an American broadcast telling all ships to beware, German u-boats are in the area, and to immediately seek refuge in the nearest port.

Are there others here with us?

I heard before we departed Kiel there were several others ordered to America.

Oscar asked, What does it matter to send a few boats all the way here?

Johan shrugged, To scare the Americans…the High Seas Fleet is everywhere!

Oscar shakes his head, A few u-boats…hardly scary.

Several minutes of silence. Johan gazed at the sea rushing past. The boat was moving smoothly through an almost calm sea. Seldom did the boat have such a luxurious moment. She rode on the surface much of the time to recharge her electric motors used when submerged. On the surface pitching and rolling were almost continuous. Each passing wave - except during such special moments as now - moved the u-boat hull. The boat seemed constantly plunging through spray and foam as waves forced the hull to climb them or the waves rolled over and alongside her low profile. Often lookouts were tied to the conning tower against being washed overboard. Storms were frightful on