The Ocean Liner

U-113

The pistol fired in his face had half-blinded and deafened Hufnagel, but he was surprised to find himself alive. The bullet had struck him in the left shoulder. He did not know how badly he had been injured, only that he could no longer use that arm. He didn’t flinch, however, as he grasped Todt’s pistol and wrenched it aside. For a moment the two men wrestled, their faces an inch apart. There was another shot. Hufnagel felt something sear his arm.

Then new hands were intervening, dragging them apart. Dimly, he saw the faces of the crewmen, among them Krupp, the medical officer.

‘You’ve been shot,’ Krupp said urgently. ‘Let me examine the wound.’

‘The captain is in an unfit mental state,’ Hufnagel gasped. He saw Krupp flinch and back away from him, and realised that he had somehow got possession of Todt’s Luger, and was waving it dangerously. Hufnagel lowered his arm. Blood immediately streamed down his hand and spattered on the floor plates. He had been shot a second time, the bullet tearing the flesh of his right forearm open. He could feel no pain. ‘That is an American liner,’ he said urgently. ‘The Manhattan. Attacking her would be a serious breach of our orders. I am relieving the captain of his command.’

‘Do you know what you’re doing, Rudi?’ Krupp asked quietly.

‘Come and see.’ Hufnagel dragged himself up to the conning tower again, followed by the others.

The sun was about to rise, and the sky was flushed with the first reddish light of dawn. Looking across the two miles that separated them from the other vessel, those with good eyesight could now see, even without the aid of binoculars, the huge American flag that was painted on her side. A man uttered a curse of dismay or surprise. Otherwise they were all silent. Todt seemed to be dazed by what he had done. He put his head in his hands and crouched down, making no attempt to resume his command.

Hufnagel noticed that the signalman was huddled in the corner of the conning tower next to his overturned lamp, terrified at the sight of the bloodstained second officer brandishing a Luger.

‘Get up,’ he commanded. ‘Prepare to send.’ The man scrambled to his feet, pulling on his cap, which had come off, and pushing the lamp back into place.