Capítulo 189: Chapter 8: Missing Out Is Not a Pity
Admittedly, the performance of the German Navy's submarine force in the later stages of the war was mediocre, but this does not mean that U-boats were doomed to destruction when encountering Allied destroyers and escorts. Diving deep, sitting on the seabed, and waiting silently—this primitive tactic often rendered Allied sonar ineffective. The limited number of depth charges could only deliver limited attacks within a confined range. In the vast ocean, the greatest threat to the German underwater hunters came from anti-submarine patrol aircraft that were neither equipped with sonar nor depth charges. Once they spotted a target, they needed only to attack before the U-boat could fully submerge, using machine guns and aerial bombs to puncture fatal holes in the U-boat's hull, rendering these ferocious underwater killers incapable of normal diving and leaving them stranded on the surface.
In the relatively shallow waters south of the Skagerrak Strait, after the submarine had settled on the seabed and all power machinery was shut down, the interior of the submarine became as silent and oppressive as a frontline trench under bombardment. Motke would periodically turn on his flashlight to check his watch, while most others, like Lynn, entered a hibernation-like state, forgetting the passage of time, the pain in their bodies, and the fear in their hearts. They became part of their surroundings, like breathing cold metal, pretending to be indifferent to the intermittent booming sounds of depth charges.
From the complete shutdown of the submarine's engines to the restart of the electric motors and turbines, it might have been only three or four hours, maybe even less, but this period felt like an eternity to most. Finally, the faint hum of the electric motors and turbines began, time, which had seemed frozen, started flowing again, and the once lifeless submarine interior gradually revived. About a quarter of an hour later, the diesel engines started, their mechanical noise still loud and harsh, but after enduring the suffocating atmosphere, this noise was a welcome relief.
There was no celebration for escaping death. The crew naturally resumed their previous order. The two crew members in the stern torpedo room remained on standby, the naval lieutenant busily moved between compartments, allocating personnel according to the duty roster, fully utilizing his remarkable memory. After the danger passed, the submarine surfaced, the roar of the diesel engines became smoother, and the pitching of the submarine increased. However, without deliberately trying to relax or tense up, Lynn fell into a deep sleep. He dreamt of many strange people—giant Zentraedi from "Robotech," Darth Vader from "Star Wars," and the lovable alien from "E.T." He felt as if he were in a sci-fi world, where everything was a product of his imagination. The final scene was a massive saucer-shaped flying craft. As it rose with a dazzling halo, the black-and-white Iron Cross insignia was so prominent that Lynn suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of pride and joy, as if every past enemy would now bow down in fear... "Hey, Sergeant! Sergeant Galgo!"
Hearing the familiar voice, Lynn abruptly opened his eyes, feeling an unusual heaviness in his temples, possibly from forcibly waking from his dream. Under the wall lights that were turned on after the diesel engines started, he saw Wolfram's blurred face and the naval lieutenant standing behind him.
"Sergeant, are you alright?" Wolfram's tone was still concerned, and the naval lieutenant, seeing him awake, immediately said, "Sorry to disturb your dream, Sergeant, but it's time for your shift!"
Lynn intended to rub his face with both hands to wake up quickly and head to the command room, but as soon as he moved his right hand, he felt pain in his shoulder and grimaced in pain.
"Does the wound hurt?" Wolfram asked quickly.
Lynn didn't know how to describe it, he just shook his head instinctively and stood up with his left hand against the bulkhead. But his head felt as heavy as if it had been hit with a club, making it hard to lift. His steps were unsteady, like a deeply intoxicated person, as he walked towards the door. He struggled to keep his body and legs balanced but couldn't manage it. When he finally stepped through the hatch, his body uncontrollably tilted backward. His outstretched hands touched the door frame but clumsily couldn't grab hold!
Fortunately, Wolfram was following him closely, and he quickly caught him. But at that moment, Lynn's body, like a sack full of potatoes, lost support and fell hard, almost bringing Wolfram down with him.
"Sir, what's wrong with you?" Wolfram exclaimed. Fredrick, who was also in the stern compartment, quickly came over to help. After laying Lynn down flat, Wolfram felt his forehead: "So hot, he's got a fever!"
Seeing Lynn struggle to get up, the naval lieutenant stopped him and said, "Sergeant Galgo, rest here for now, I'll call the medic to check on you!"
Lynn, feeling a bit more conscious, felt increasingly weak, with parts of his body seemingly out of his control, and his voice unexpectedly hoarse: "Uh... alright, I..."
"Lynn, how are you?" Captain Motke came over with concern.
Lynn forced his eyes open but felt helpless about his condition. He opened his mouth and made some unintelligible sounds.
"Sir, he's got a fever!" Wolfram answered, then got up to fetch a blanket. He and Fredrick moved Lynn onto it, covered him with another blanket, and then Wolfram took out his water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and gave Lynn some water.
"Could it be an infection in the wound?" Fredrick asked worriedly.
"Very likely!" Wolfram replied, "Let the medic check him and give him some antibiotics!"
As he drank the cold water, Lynn felt a bit clearer, but as soon as he swallowed, his stomach churned uncontrollably, and he quickly vomited everything out.
After Lynn finished vomiting, Wolfram patiently gave him another small sip of water, then put the cap back on the bottle, and turned to Motke: "Sir, the air in the submarine is not good for healing. I hope we can get ashore soon!"
"I'm afraid we'll have to endure a few more days!" Motke replied softly.
Despite his discomfort, Lynn clearly heard every word his comrades said. He wanted to join the conversation but had no energy left, feeling as helpless as a lump of mud lying there.
After a while, the medic arrived. He felt Lynn's forehead, examined his shoulder and leg wounds with a flashlight, and quickly concluded: "Wound infection!"
Next, Lynn heard the medic rummaging through the medical kit and opening vials, then felt a needle prick his arm, but it didn't hurt at all. He just didn't have the strength to open his eyes. Soon after, he heard the medic say to the others: "This is an antibiotic. Give him one pill now, and another in 24 hours. As long as the fever subsides, he should be fine! Also, other wounded personnel need to keep their wounds clean. Including him, six people on board are now showing symptoms of infection."
As his comrades helped him take the antibiotic, Lynn tried to cooperate, but his body became less responsive, and the heaviness in his head pushed him into a deep sleep. He vaguely heard the others talking and knew that in this era, as long as an army wasn't extremely short of medical supplies, wound infections were no longer the top killer of soldiers. He believed he would recover, he must recover... With this faint thought, Lynn fell asleep again, not realizing that this time he would sleep for a long time, and that during his slumber, this submarine with its special mission would face many more ordeals.
At dawn, in the northwestern end of the Skagerrak Strait near the Norwegian port of Kristiansand, U-boat 396 silently surfaced. As Norwegian territorial waters, this area had been a "green corridor" for German ships and submarines since the German occupation of Norway in the summer of 1940, but by 1945, this favorable time was long gone. The entire Skagerrak Strait was under tight surveillance by Allied ships and aircraft. German submarines found it difficult to operate even at night, and during the day, they had to be extremely cautious.
After surfacing, the officers in the conning tower scanned the distant sea and sky with binoculars, as if facing a formidable enemy. Some crew members manned the deck and anti-aircraft guns, while others, led by technical officers, hurried to repair the snorkel on the side of the conning tower. Early submarines did not have such equipment, but with the increasing Allied air threat, the snorkel had become essential for daytime operations. It seemed as if the submarine was favored by luck, as the area remained foggy until 9 a.m., allowing the crew to repair the malfunctioning snorkel. Once repairs were completed, U-396, listed as "missing" in German naval records, continued its journey northwest. On the evening of April 30th, it reached the waters near the Norwegian port of Stavanger, then adjusted its course to sail north along the Norwegian coast. On the morning of May 1st, it encountered Allied ships in Norwegian coastal waters. Despite being in an advantageous position for attack, the U-boat did not attempt any aggression but quickly dived to avoid detection. By evening, the submarine passed through the Bergen area and received news from Allied radio broadcasts that Hitler had died in Berlin. Ignoring this, they continued north. On May 2nd, Berlin's garrison announced their surrender, and this news quickly spread worldwide via radio. The fall of Berlin and the Führer's death marked the final collapse of the Third Reich, burdened by dual pressures. Many German troops began organized retreats westward, hoping to surrender to the Western Allies rather than the Soviets. However, the harsh reality soon taught them a deep lesson: never expect mercy from your enemy!
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