The Ocean Liner

The Western Approaches

An absurd confrontation had arisen aboard U-113 in the lull produced by several days without action of any kind. Captain Todt had subjected the boat to a prolonged programme of Hitler speeches.

The crew bore this for several hours, and then countered the musical tyranny by setting off their own gramophone at full volume. They chose a selection of songs from popular German films of the past ten years. For a while, Mein Gorilla hat ’ne Villa im Zoo competed cacophonously with Brünnhilde, rendering the forward section of U-113 almost uninhabitable.

On a destroyer, such a minor mutiny would have resulted in disciplinary action, even courts-martial; but the submarine service was different, as Leutnant Hufnagel pointed out to the captain. The nervous pressure of long voyages in U-boats could be explosive, and some high spirits had to be tolerated among the crew, so as to keep morale high.

Todt responded by cutting off the men’s supply of tinned cream, condensed milk and butter. These delicacies, kept in a cupboard to which only he had the key, were crucial to the men’s happiness (especially the condensed milk, which they loved to put in their coffee).

Hufnagel approached the captain, determined to end the growing feud between the commander and the crew.

‘Kapitän, surely the crew deserve a rest?’

‘You have taken it upon yourself to defend them, I see.’ Hufnagel was dismayed to see that the commander’s hands were trembling and his jaw clenched tight under the straggling blonde beard. This ridiculous contretemps was telling on his nerves, where another man would have laughed it away. ‘Have you come to tell me to turn off the words of our Führer in favour of some frivolous Semitic rubbish?’

‘Not at all, Captain. It’s simply that long speeches are—’

‘Long speeches are what?’

‘As a general rule,’ Hufnagel tried again, ‘it is wise for us all, during a long voyage, to leave politics in port.’

‘Politics?’ Todt was genuinely astounded. ‘The speeches of the Führer are not political. They are above politics.’

‘Hitler is a politician,’ Hufnagel replied cautiously, ‘if nothing else.’

‘What does that mean?’ Todt demanded, growing pale. ‘If nothing else?’

‘I mean that he is the chief politician of our country.’

‘You are determined to insult Adolf Hitler in my presence?’

‘It’s not meant as an insult,’ Hufnagel replied, growing even quieter. ‘He’s the leader of the ruling party.’

‘He is our Führer. The politicians are the ones who bear the guilt of the catastrophe of 1918, the hour of our deepest degradation and dishonour. It was the Führer who, with his superhuman willpower and energy, saved our nation.’

‘I do not deny that, of course. I am concerned only with the morale of the crew.’

‘The morale of the crew is the very reason that I am playing the Führer’s speeches.’ Todt held up the sleeve of the record, which showed a painting of a giant Adolf Hitler emerging from a mass of tiny, ordinary people, rather like a Fleischkäse being formed from crumbs of meat. ‘Hitler is the apotheosis of the German volk, Hufnagel. It is the values embodied in Hitler which are sadly lacking in this crew. It has been my misfortune to inherit the problems of other captains.’

‘They are a well-motivated and hard-working crew,’ Hufnagel replied. ‘In their time off, they benefit from laughter and relaxation.’

‘A mind which is not capable of responding to the speeches of Adolf Hitler must be dull and swinish indeed.’

‘I didn’t say they weren’t capable of responding. Only that they are energetic young men who need to loosen up from time to time.’ He tried a smile. ‘These young crews don’t fight for the Führer, or even for Germany. They fight for each other, because they know that if one dies, they all die.’

‘They do not fight for the Führer? I will make a note of this conversation in the captain’s log,’ Todt said, with an unmistakable threat in his voice. He was trembling all the more, and now no longer meeting Hufnagel’s eye.

Hufnagel decided to give up. He saluted Todt and turned to leave the captain’s quarters. As he opened the curtain, however, something occurred to him, and he turned back.

‘What did you mean by saying that you have inherited the problems of other captains?’

Todt did not look up from his log, in which he was energetically writing. ‘It’s no secret that this crew is made up of misfits and rejects.’

Hufnagel paused. ‘That’s the first I’ve heard of it.’

‘I was warned when I was given this command that the crew contained a high proportion of borderline cases.’

‘Really? Does that include me?’

Todt finally met Hufnagel’s eyes. ‘Your adherence to National Socialist principles has been in question from the start, Hufnagel. That is no secret, either. It is well-known that you conducted a liaison with a Jewish woman in Berlin.’

‘I see.’

‘I shudder to think of it. Mad folly! How could you defile your racial lineage in that way? I would sooner embrace a serpent or a crocodile.’ Todt capped his fountain pen. He used ink, not pencil, which could be rubbed out. ‘Close the curtain when you have left.’

Hufnagel made his way slowly forward to the torpedo room, thinking of Masha Morgenstern. A liaison with a Jewish woman in Berlin. Yes, it had been mad folly. He had crippled his career during those few months. But was not first love always mad folly? And had those mad, foolish months not been the happiest of his life? It had been a dream of another life, with the most beautiful woman in the world on his arm, laughing at the Two Eggs who followed them everywhere, floating on champagne.

And hardly before it had begun, it was over; and he was standing in the snow, looking up at her window, knowing he would never see her again.

He had certainly never loved any woman other than seventeen-year-old Masha Morgenstern. He was probably going to finish this war on the bottom of the ocean. He could at least say he had loved with all his heart, even if he had subsequently lost. That was something to take to the bottom of the ocean.