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Post by crushedhat on Aug 23, 2016 21:59:46 GMT
22 July 1940, early morning, 15th Flotilla Maintenance Office
LtzS Derk von Rothenberg looks up from the duty desk to see who the new arrival is, a smirk forming on his lips as he recognizes KptLt Viktor Radel.
“Ah, Kapitan Radel. Are you planning on seeing Mother when she and Frau Frey arrive?”
Expecting to have it out over what he perceives to be the shoddy maintenance that led to the failure of U-86’s gyro-compass, Viktor is put off pace by the news of Jutte’s visit. “What? When?” Silently Viktor reflects that he probably should have read his collected mail upon arriving in port.
Not knowing the reason for Viktor’s apparent lack o knowledge, Derk feels a sense of victory. Smiling more broadly now, the young man says, “Then she didn’t tell you? Well, I’m sure that’s not the reason for your call.”
Derk’s self-satisfied mood is shattered as, reminded of his original purpose, Viktor lays him about the gyro-compass failure. As he speaks, Viktor grows more incensed, and more animated, finishing by leaning over Derk who is busy seeking a way out of the current situation.
“I expect you’ll see that it is done right this time,” Viktor finishes, “or else!” Not waiting for an answer, Viktor turns and storms out of the room, determined to check his mail and see if Jutte has sent him any plans.
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Post by crushedhat on Sept 6, 2016 21:00:01 GMT
15 August 1940, afternoon, near the harbor
KptLt Victor Radel checks the address against the listing in the paper, confirming that he has the correct location. Satisfied that he is in the right place, Victor takes a moment to examine the exterior of the building.
A modest wood and stone structure that doubtless has stood in place for centuries, the house is one of many built along the avenue that overlooks the harbor. Victor can smell the salty air and hear the cries of gulls in the background. A wispy smoke trail rises from the chimney, the likely source of the pleasant aroma wafting through an open window. Folding the newspaper under his arm, Victor steps up and knocks on the door.
An older man answers. He clearly was not expecting an officer of the Kriegsmarine judging by the expression on his face. Whatever the man’s feelings toward the occupiers of his country he quickly hides them. “Bonjour, Messieurs.”
“Bonjour.” Though Victor manages to mangle the word, his attempt to speak the native language elicits a slight smile and the man warms noticeably. “I’ve come about the room,” Victor explains.
“The room?” Victor wonders if the man will play ignorant in an effort to put off the German officer. But, his earlier show of warmth proves genuine as he recalls, “Ah, yes. The room. Marie!” The last is directed to someone in the house. Returning his attention to Victor the man motions him in. “Come. Come.” A moment later they are joined by a woman. She appears to be of a similar age to the man, both old enough to be Victor’s parents. Both graying, portly, and on the shorter side.
“I am Claude Veneau,” the man begins introductions. “And this is my wife, Marie.”
“Kptlt Victor Radel.” Victor catches himself before executing a formal military salute. Still, his hosts catch the beginning, struggling to hide their amusement. “I came about the room,” Victor reminds them in an effort to hide his embarrassment.
“The room?” Marie shoots Claude a worried look. Then, deciding the income is more important that the concern of their neighbors she agrees. “Yes. The room. It comes with meals,” she adds as inducement. “Would you like to see it?” When Victor nods his head Marie tells him, “Follow me.”
Victor is led up a stair to a narrow hallway flanked by several doors. “There are several rooms available.” Marie grows apologetic for a moment. “Unfortunately, all are along the back of the house.” She indicates the doors lining one wall of the hallway.
Victor points. “That one?”
Marie opens the door and steps aside so that Victor may enter. The room is small but neat. A window looks out over the harbor. Stepping up to it, Victor sees that it also looks down into an enclosed garden area. “I’ll take it,” Victor says, turning back to Marie.
Her smile is quickly replaced by an expression of concern. “No women.” She says sternly, waiting to see if it is deal breaker. Her smile returns when Victor agrees, “No women.” Silently he reflects that with getting U-86 ready, and riding herd on every aspect of her overhaul and preparation, he hasn’t had time for the fairer sex, Victor does not see that as a problem. In fact, he realizes, he’s been so busy that he never bothered to check it Jutte came to La Rochelle as her stepson intimated.
Marie Veneau’s smile grows even more when, thinking of his friend and fellow U-Boat Kapitan, Karl Schneider, Victor tells her, “I may have a renter for another of the rooms.”
Marie leads Victor downstairs where the final arrangements are made between her, Claude, and Victor.
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Post by crushedhat on Oct 3, 2016 23:15:38 GMT
26 December 1940, evening, La Rochelle
KKpt Viktor Radel slogs wearily through the snow along the streets from the harbor to the Veneau residence where he has obtained lodging when ashore. The necessary reports submitted and a harbor watch set, Viktor’s shoulders sag under the results of another disappointing patrol. “I wonder how Karl’s doing?” Viktor half wonders, his friend, fellow U-Boat commander, and the man rents another room in the same house not yet having reported in.
Turning toward the door Viktor pauses, the sound of music from within the house making its way outside. The tune is a familiar carol, serving as a reminder of the season. An amused smile forms on Viktor’s lips as he reflects upon the irony of ‘peace on earth’ versus how he has spent the last year. Still, the music serves to lift his spirit. His pace brisker, Viktor proceeds to the door.
Dropping his seabag in the small foyer, Viktor steps into the entryway to the parlor. He stops upon seeing the musician. Contrary to his expectations, neither M. nor Mme. Veneau are seated at the piano. Instead it is a young woman.
Viktor studies the musician. She is a petite young woman. “A girl, really,” Viktor reflects, looking to be in her mid to late teens. Her light-brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail. Her delicate mouth is formed into a pleased smile as, eyes shut, she moves in rhythm to the music. Finishing the piece, she opens her eyes, Viktor has just enough time to notice they are hazel before they go wide in alarm.
Shifting on the bench, she slides to the edge farthest from Viktor as a hand goes to the base of her throat in a gesture of alarm. A barely audible, “Oh!” escapes from between her lips.
Viktor is hardly surprised by her reaction. Not having bathed or shaven in a month he is certain that his appearance is more than enough to discomfit, even without accounting for the fact that he is dressed in the uniform of France’s conqueror. If the uniform were not enough of a clue, the unmistakable German accent to his, “Mademoiselle,” removes all doubt as to Viktor’s nationality. It also elicits another muted, “Oh!”
Further awkwardness is forestalled by the entrance of Mme. Veneau. Seeing Viktor she greets him with an enthused, “Capitan Radel, you’ve returned! And is Capitan Schneider with you?” Marie looks past Viktor for some sign of Karl.
“No, Madam. Kapitan Schneider’s boat has not yet returned. But soon, heh?” Retrieving his seabag, Viktor produces a bottle of Riesling that he had brought along on patrol but not opened. Holding it out to Marie he offers, “Merry Christmas, Madam.”
“Merci!” Marie replies taking the gift. At the piano, the young woman watches the exchange warily.
Seeming to remember there is another person present, Marie Veneau turns so that she is facing both Viktor and the young woman. “Capitan Viktor Radel,” she intones formally. “Mlle. Celestine Veneau. Celestine, Kapitan Viktor Radel. Celestine is my niece. Visiting from Marseilles,” Marie adds by way of explaining the young woman’s presence.
“Mademoiselle,” Viktor says again, inclining his body in a slight bow. Despite the introduction, and her aunt’s relaxed manner, Celestine appears no less sure of the man before her. “Perhaps I should make myself more presentable company,” Viktor suggests, suppressing a wry smile at Celestine’s reaction. “Madam. Mademoiselle,” Viktor excuses himself. Collecting his dunnage, he makes his way upstairs to his room, unconsciously whistling the tune Celestine had been playing.
Once Viktor leaves Celestine turns to Marie. “Auntie! What are you thinking?” she questions. Still, there is curiosity in Celestine’s hazel eyes as they follow where Viktor left.
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Post by crushedhat on Oct 14, 2016 20:47:53 GMT
31 December 1940, late evening, Veneau residence, La Roshelle
KKpt Viktor Radel returns from the walk he took to settle his mind. His friend and housemate, KKpt Karl Schneider having other plans for New Year’s Eve, and the crew of U-86 either on leave or occupied with their new found lovers, Viktor feels a somewhat alone and isolated. Despite his best intentions to do otherwise, He finds his thoughts turning to Jutte von Rothenberg. He is even more agitated having learned that LtzS Derk von Rothenberg is on leave home for the holidays.
As happened upon his return from his last patrol, Viktor hears music coming from within the house. Warm light spills out the window onto the snow lining the street. Looking inside, Viktor sees his hosts, Claude and Marie Veneau laughing and singing. However, it is their nice, Celestine, who catches his attention. The lively young lady’s face beams with pleasure as she joins her aunt and uncle in song while accompanying them all on the piano.
Viktor enters, stamping his feet to shake the snow off his boots. He sheds his coat. But, rather than bring it up to his room, Viktor places the garment on a hook and walks into the parlor. The music stops. Celestine is facing Viktor, her earlier cheerful expression gone.
Noticing the new arrival, Marie cheerfully invites, “Capitaine! Come, join us.” She approaches to take Viktor’s arm and lead him into the room. In the meantime, Claude fills another glass with wine and hands it Viktor. Celestine watches them in a state of confusion. After a moment she shrugs it off and resumes playing as the other three gather round, Viktor now joining in the singing as best he can.
Viktor’s attempts, both at being musical and trying to get the words to the songs right, prove a source of amusement to the others. But, it is a good natured amusement and Viktor takers no offense at their laughter. Viktor’s earlier gloom disperses as the room grows warmer, both physically and emotionally.
Eventually the older couple grow weary. “Much as we would like to welcome the New Year I am afraid it is not to be,” Marie announces. Taking Claude by the hand, she leads her husband out of the room and up the stairs, leaving Viktor alone with Celestine.
“I guess I had best retire too,” Celesine says rising. “I have to catch the train back early tomorrow morning.” She avoids looking at Viktor.
Reaching out, Viktor takes hold of Celestine’s arm. “Mademoiselle…” he begins, stopping when Celestine stiffens and glares, first at where his hand holds her arm, and then into his eyes. Viktor releases her but resumes speaking. “…Do you believe in prayer?”
Celestine gives Viktor a puzzled look but quietly answers, “Oiu, Messieur.”
“Then pray for me.”
“For you?” Celestine’s confusion grows.
“For my safe return. I would very much like to see you again.”
Celestine’s face reddens. Lowering her gaze she mumbles, “Oui.” Then she spins about and hurries up the stairs.
Viktor’s eyes follow the young woman until she disappears around the corner. He returns to the parlor. Once more alone, Viktor enters the New Year deep in thought. His thoughts are not about Jutte von Rothenberg.
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Post by crushedhat on Dec 5, 2016 19:22:26 GMT
5 September 1941, late evening, Veneau residence, La Rochelle
KKpts Karl Schneider and Viktor Radel return to their lodgings after a night celebrating Karl’s addition of swords to his Knight’s Cross. As the hour is late they seek to be quiet so as not to disturb their landlords. Of course, having imbibed too much, their perception of quiet doesn’t quite mesh with the reality of their actions. This is made even more apparent as, halfway up the stairs, Karl loses his balance and calls out in surprise. Being less inebriated as the drinks were not bought for him, Viktor is able to catch his companion before Karl tumbles down the stairs. Still, the hue and cry rouses the rest of the household. By the time Viktor and Karl reach the top of the stairs Claude, Marie, and Celestine all in the hallway, robes hastily donned.
Karls’ fondness for Marie’s cooking having endeared him to the Frenchwoman despite their countries’ animosities, Marie rushes to help the semi-conscious U-Boat commander. Claude, fearful of losing the rent money should anything bad happen to his lodger has little choice but to help his wife see Karl safely to his room.
Left alone in the hall, Viktor senses Celestine’s disapproving glare turned upon him. Turning to face the young woman he offers up a feeble, “What?”
“You were drinking.” Her voice is filled with reproach.
“Obviously,” Viktor answers. Then, feeling some need to justify his behavior he adds, “Karl…KKpt Schneider earned the swords to his Knight’s Cross. For sinking over 250,000 tons of enemy shipping.” The last is in response to Celestine’s apparent lack of understanding of the significance of the event. That Viktor’s explanation is clear is evident in the sudden darkening of the young woman’s face and the hardening in her eyes.
As Celestine starts to turn away Viktor grabs her arm, keeping her facing him. “Forgive me, Capitaine, but I do not understand celebrating the deaths of others.” There is a bite in her voice. Apparently more than she intended by the sudden softening in her eyes before she looks away.
Viktor steps in closer, lowering his voice. “None of us rejoice in the killing of others, Mademoiselle. That is why whenever possible we allow the freighters’ crews to take to the lifeboats, even if it means risking their sending a message as to our location.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. Then asks, “Tell me, would you shed such tears were I to die?”
“Yes. Oh yes,” Celestine answers, looking up into Viktor’s eyes. Catching him by surprise, Celestine throws her arms around Viktor’s neck and presses her lips to his. Viktor’s arms wrap around the young woman, holding her close as he returns the kiss.
The sound of someone clearing their throat causes the pair to quickly separate. Turning, Viktor sees Celestine’s aunt and uncle standing in the hallway. “Do you need help to your room?” Claude asks Viktor, trying at the same time to sound both forceful but not accusatory.
At the same time, Marie steps forward, inserting herself between Viktor and Celestine, the latter hanging her head in embarrassment. “Back to bed with you,” Marie coaxes her niece back into her room, though not before Celestine manages to throw Viktor an apologetic glance.
“I’m not as drunk as my friend,” Viktor assure Claude, making his way to his own room. Once inside and recalling how Celestine felt pressed up against him he tells himself, “At least not on alcohol. It’s a good thing I’m going back out on patrol tomorrow.”
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Post by keyboy on Mar 21, 2017 20:33:41 GMT
May 1st 1943, evening, Le Rochelois, La Rochelle
Herrmann Rieger (U-74 Doctor) finally tracks down his Kapitän, spotting FKpt Volkhard Schreiber sitting at the back of the bar in the dark. The crew had been ordered by Leutnant zur See Goetzpeter Staufenbiel (U-74 1WO) to search for FKpt Schreiber since he disappeared the previous evening. Staufenbiel had managed to keep his superiors from finding out about the Kapitän disappearing; telling them that FKpt Schreiber had picked up a bug on the return journey and was ill. He knew that would buy some time, but how much was uncertain.
Rieger approached the back of the bar and came to attention at the Kapitän's table. Volkhard glanced up at his Doctor and mumbled "no need for that Herrmann, you are a friend...... sit down and have a drink with me." Herrmann Rieger was worried; he had never ever seen the Kapitän like this before. Sure he had seen his superior officer drunk before, he had seen him ill before, in fact he had seen him depressed before, but this was different, this was something new. Rieger noticed that there were seven full shot glasses on the table, but it was only the one that Schreiber was drinking from that had alcohol spilled on the shiny surface of that table. He also noticed that Schreiber was holding something and upon closer inspection, he saw that it was a photograph, but he couldn't quite see who was in it.
Herrmann Rieger plucked up the courage to ask if the Kapitän was ok and was surprised by the answer. "no, Herrmann, I'm not ok. I am sick of this bloody war and the friends and family that I have lost as a result of it and I am done, they can charge or arrest me, they can throw me in front of a damn firing squad, I'm done, done, done."
"Just look at this," as he shows Rieger the picture, he continues. "Look at the picture Herrmann, what do you see? Eh, fresh faced officers looking to serve their country and return home after they were told it was going to be a short war and now I look at it, all I see is death, loss and a waste of potential and opportunities." "There they are, the Super seven: KptLt Rupert Haus - met him once just before he went off on patrol - dead, KpLt Ralf Pergande - Killed during my first patrol, KptLt Werner Bornhof - well respected and killed last month, KptLt Viktor Radel - great friend - dead, KptLt Horst Beckmann - tired and nearly spent; he only sunk three ships on his last two patrols and that was four months at sea, KptLt Wolfgang Ackerman - tired and nearly spent; he only sunk three ships on his last three patrols and that was three months at sea and then there is me, tired and spent and sick of it all, the Super seven.....what a joke......what a lie."
Schreiber downs another drink and finally falls unconscious, leaving Hermann Rieger in the position of not knowing what the hell to do next.
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Post by keyboy on Mar 22, 2017 23:44:44 GMT
May 2nd 1943, early hours of the morning, Rue St Nicholas, La Rochelle
1WO Leutnant zur See Goetzpeter Staufenbiel and Doctor Matrosnobergefreiter Herrmann Rieger carry their Kapitän to his lodgings and attempt to bring him around. Unfortunately Schreiber had drunk throughout the day and was too far gone. Rieger decides to stay with the Kapitän and will attempt to get him sober when he finally wakes up, whilst Staufenbiel returns back to dock to hopefully buy some more time.
By the time Staufenbiel gets back to dock, he becomes aware that there is a lot more personnel around for this time of the morning. Usually Schmidt and Wagner are the only two people you would see during the early hours and now there were at least a dozen different individuals on site, awake and it was clear they had been given a task to perform. As Staufenbiel approaches, a startled guard spins on his heels and raises his gun. When he realises who it is, he lowers his gun and salutes the Leutnant zur See and Staufenbiel passes him without saying a word. As he enters the building he notices that there is a light on in the acting Kommodore's office and the door wide open and as he attempts to quietly walk down the corridor, a voice booms out from the office, "Staufenbiel ! in my office please and shut the door, now sit down and tell me was zum Teufel is going on."
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Post by crushedhat on Mar 23, 2017 18:27:17 GMT
Morning, late May 1943
ObLtzS Lutz Bruer pauses in his walk along the street overlooking the harbor. A ‘veteran’ at the tender age of 23 and no in command of his own boat, Lutz’s face looks much older. Turning, he rests his arms on the parapet and watches the gulls as they soar and dip in their search for food. Several squawk loudly as they alight nearby, their shrill calls joined by laughter as two young women toss them bread crumbs.
Like the gull’s calls, the women’s laughter seems unnecessarily loud, as though deliberately trying to intrude on Lutz’s thoughts. The effort succeeds, Lutz casting a sidewise glance in their direction.
Lutz quickly changes his estimation. The pair are more girls than women. Despite their outward gaiety and overly painted faces, the threadbare clothing cannot hide the gaunt bodies beneath. They cast coquettish looks returned to Lutz’s apparent interest leave little doubt as to the girls’ intent. Sadly, Lutz ponders how the glorious endeavor has comes to this, girls prostituting themselves in order to live.
Turning back to the harbor scene, Lutz reflects that he is in the same boat. The war is all but lost, the Tommies and Amis showing a new found ability to locate and sink U-Boats despite claims to the contrary and promises of new ‘super weapons’ that will turn the tide back in Germany’s favor.
Like the girls, Lutz decides that he will do whatever it takes to survive, to live long enough to see his yet unborn son or daughter. That is more important than any medal.
The girls’ laughter grows more insistent, causing Lutz to smile. “Another time, perhaps, mademoiselles,” he whispers. For now, Lutz will be faithful to his new, and pregnant wife, Elke. With a more promising future Lutz would have asked Elke to marry him anyway. Her pregnancy simply shrank other considerations to insignificance, more overcoming her reservations than Lutz’s. Still, both the marriage and pregnancy change the rules of the game. As does the growing number of boats failing to return.
And not just for Lutz apparently. Upon arriving in La Rochelle he heard rumors of ‘problems’ with a veteran Kapitan.
Thinking about his crew, Lutz makes a promise to bring them home alive as well. LT (Ing) Michael Schlamecher, the LI, is an experienced U-Boat man. That will help. “I wonder if he’s become as jaded as I.” The Doctor, Lt Alois Seiffert probably isn’t particularly gung-ho. The Watch Officer, thought, LtzS Conrad Jais and ObFhzS Wolfgang Buening may have more fire than good sense. “I’ll have to keep an eye on them,” Lutz tells himself, both to protect the crew and his own reputation.
With a heavy sigh, Lutz turns and walks away, both from former dreams of glory and the young women’s promise of short-lived pleasures.
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