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two handles above to swing through. He was about to jump, when
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a searing blast of air hit his body and made him hesitate. The gust
came from the engine room and singed his hair. He could smell it
burning. His hands still cramped around the handles. This was the
way out to the sun.
The blast lasted only a second, then he was engulfed in a
stream of water. A torrential flood shot through the hatch and
threatened to tear him from his hold. Within seconds, the aft quar-
ters were filled and everybody swam in darkness. The compart-
ment, which had been their bedroom for six months, was now
filled with water and threatened to become their tomb.
Lucky for them, the hatch was low and now the aft quarters
had trapped an air bubble above the rim of the hatch. It would be
enough to keep them alive for a few more hours.
There was silence now. The men were shocked. Was this the
end of it? Was this death? All Adam could think about was that at
last that dreadful moment had arrived, which U-boat men only
joked about, but did not believe could really happen to them. He
was encased in a stricken U-boat, which was sinking. In a flash, he
realized that he always had deceived himself. All U-boats sink
sooner or later, and now it was his turn.
With a thump, the boat settled down at the bottom of the sea.
The blackness in the aft quarters was total. The emergency
lights were either under the water line, or the batteries were flat.
There remained a deadly silence. All the men were stunned,
and only slowly emerging from their shock. Gradually, there were
some noises of swishing water as the men started to move around
to get their bearings.
Adam s body refused to accept that this was the end of his
short life. He let go of the handles of the hatch. Stretching his neck
he fought to keep his head above water and bumped against the
ladder. Instantly he remembered the torpedo hatch above and, like
a snake, he worked his body through the rungs. When he was
through, he sat down on the match stick and felt for the hand wheel
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of the hatch. Up there was the outside world and his mind was rac-
ing in an assessment of their situation.
What was the latest depth sounding? he screamed into the
darkness.
He was the first one to speak. His voice sounded strange, high-
pitched in the compressed air at the bottom of the sea. It sounded
like the quacking of a duck.
Fifty metres, an equally distorted voice came back.
Adam was relieved. His hopes soared. He knew that his body
could withstand this pressure. Calmly, he sat on the match stick,
with his feet resting on the ladder and his hands on the wheel of
the hatch. He tried to turn it and it worked easily.
This was the way up to the sun.
The other men had come alive now, and were busy preparing
themselves for their escape from the stricken boat. In the darkness,
they were fumbling to find their survival gear. Their bunks were
under water and it took time to find their bearings.
Nobody panicked. If you were still alive, your body intended
to keep you that way. Everybody was determined to get out of
there again.
The men had been an integral part of the boat, and had made it
come alive. Now the boat was dead, and the men were going to
detach themselves from it like the soul from a dying body.
Suddenly a whining noise from the T-5 resting in its cradle
pierced the darkness. It sent goose-pimples down their spines.
What had triggered off that torpedo? They all knew that this was a
dangerous and unpredictable tool of war, and had to be treated like
a raw egg.
The torpedo artificer knew what to do. Working blindly, he
disconnected the internal battery and, suddenly, there was silence
again. The men breathed easier.
Adam decided not to leave his place by the hatch. A life vest,
with breathing apparatus and a one man rubber raft, was in his
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bunk under the mattress, but where was his bunk? If he started
searching now he might not find what he was looking for and only
lose his place of priority at the life-saving hatch.
He realized that when the hatch was opened, the precious air
supply in the aft quarters would leave the room in one single bub-
ble, and whoever was behind must struggle for the opening or die.
Being at the tail-end of men struggling for their lives, with no
breathing aid, would mean certain death. Nobody could hold his
breath that long. Badly, he wanted to see the sun again.
Below him he lost his foothold, as some men had the foresight
to remove the ladder from the overhead. It would have been a
deadly obstruction for the escaping men.
All the men worked with cool deliberation toward their
escape. Nobody intended to be buried at the bottom of the sea.
Another man had come up and sat down beside Adam. He had
the feeling that it was Joe. Now four hands were clutching the
wheel in preparation for the escape.
Voices could be heard now. One got used to the distortion of
the vocal chords. It even became possible to recognize who was
speaking.
All clear? the torpedo artificer called a question into the
darkness.
All clear! it echoed from all corners.
Hold on, Somebody protested. I can t swim. Leave that
hatch closed.
Don t be dense, some other anonymous voice quacked, irri-
tated. You want us all to rot in hell? What do you have a life
jacket for?
Give me your hand, the first voice quivered.
Okay, open that hatch!
Adam was pleased. His big moment had arrived. The boat was
dead, and he was anxious to detach himself from it. Together with
the man beside him he turned the wheel and watched the green slit
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around the hatch grow wider. Then, with a sudden swish, the hatch
flew open.
Adam took a deep breath and then eased out with the air bub-
ble over the sudden inrush of water.
Floating freely upwards, he saw promising daylight in the
green distance above. During his training at U-boat school he had
learnt all about the dangers of diving. About the bends and burst
lungs. He did not know how long he would have to hold his breath,
but he did not panic. He was determined to hold on to that air as
long as it took.
He did not hurry up to the surface, and let the compressed air
flow freely from his mouth. The emerald green of the light above
grew brighter by the second, reflecting silver on the bubbles that
left his mouth in a steady stream. The amount of air in his lungs
seemed to be inexhaustible and the way up endless.
Suddenly he broke the surface.
He had made it! His eyes blinked as he saw the sun, the blue
sky and some golden tufts of cloud. And he was still alive!
He turned on his back and swam blissfully, with a smile on his
face. He was not considering that he had no life raft, not even a life
vest or protection from the sun that he was floating in shark-
infested waters, out of sight of land. He didn t care. Down below
he had left the nightmare of the U-boat and Hitler s government.
He was a civilian now. He was free! He was alive! He was
ecstatic!
* * *
Going forward from the aft quarters, the boat was a tomb. In
the electro room, Podlizki had just stopped charging the batteries,
and was standing at the small desk, entering the data in the log,
when the torpedo struck. The blow threw him off his feet and pro-
pelled him against the bulkhead where he smashed his skull. His
death was swift and merciful.
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His mate, down by the fresh water machine, evaded the initial
blow, but the room filled with water in just three seconds. There
was hardly an air bubble left here and he struggled up to clear his
head where he found a bit of air, but that pocket was full of carbon
monoxide from the flames of the torpedo. He lost consciousness
quickly, not realizing that he was drowning.
The diesel compartment, as well as the Zentrale, suffered the
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