The Ocean Liner

U-113

The ship was a dim silhouette in the pre-dawn darkness, but she was showing lights that revealed her outline. Todt, trembling all over, had the silhouette recognition chart open, his forefinger skimming along the list.

‘I have her,’ he whispered, as though the British crew could somehow hear him across two miles of sea. ‘She is the Duchess of Atholl.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘As sure as my life. Over twenty-four thousand tons gross. My God. Look at the size of her.’

Hufnagel knew that he was whispering partly because the prize was so great. It was the roll of the dice that recoups all the gambler’s losses. The stag that steps out of the woods just as the hunter shoulders his rifle to return home empty-handed. To go back with a bag like this was the dream of every U-boat captain. It would lead to commendations, medals, promotions, parades, the covers of magazines.

But there was no record of the Duchess of Atholl having been converted as a troop carrier. Hufnagel studied the silhouette chart with his pocket flashlight.

‘She’s a passenger vessel,’ he said quietly. ‘We can’t sink her without warning. There will be terrible loss of life.’

‘Causing loss of life to the enemy is the purpose of war,’ Todt retorted.

‘She isn’t armed. There will be women and children on board. The rules of war—’

‘Don’t lecture me about the rules of war,’ Todt said.

‘We must signal her to launch her lifeboats.’

‘You are mad.’

‘You are mad if you think sending hundreds of civilians to the bottom will do you or the Reich any good. For God’s sake, man. Think! Remember the Lusitania.’

‘Go below at once, Hufnagel. Or I will shoot you.’

Hufnagel waited, staring at the shadowy figure of his captain. He had the conviction that the man confronting him was a coward, whose will was weaker than Hufnagel’s own. When Todt’s hand made no move towards the pistol at his side, he turned to the rating who was standing nervously by the signal lamp. ‘Signal her to stop.’ He spelled out the English words for the signalman: STOP SHIP.

The frightened rating glanced at Todt. There was no response from him. The rating switched on the lamp. The dazzling beam speared through the darkness towards the ship. After waiting a few seconds for the ship to notice the light, the rating began to rattle the signal slats open and shut.