Brad Harmer-Barnes - North Sea Hunters

“That was no torpedo,” replied Krauser in a hollow whisper.

The rumbling passed again, this time from the front of the U-Boat to the stern, and on the port side.

“Not unless we’re caught in a crossfire…” whispered Kleiner, only half in reply.

The ship fell silent again. Krauser felt cold adrenaline flood his veins, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. “Maybe it hasn’t noticed we’re here. Maybe it can’t find us when we’re running silent,” said Krauser.

Kleiner physically paled. “It? You mean…?”

Krauser nodded as the rumble once again came from stern to prow, and on the starboard side. “It’s circling us. Trying to find us.”

“What do we do?”

Krauser felt saturated with cold sweat. The adrenaline was making his entire body tingle with cold electricity. His brain kicked into overdrive, trying to think what to do. His mouth moved soundlessly before he eventually replied. “I don’t know.”

Sweat dripped off his forehead and down his back, but it felt like an ice flow this time. He had seen how fast the shark could lunge when it found food, not to mention Dahlen’s description of the sheer force behind its bite. If it attacked while they were submerged, not a man would make it out alive. Yet, if silent running was the only camouflage they had against the foul sea monster, then an attempt to surface would be suicide.

Could they drive it off, somehow? Again, how could they do that without breaking silent running? Part of him wished that he had taken Dahlen’s advice when he had the chance to. They could be up there on the surface, weapons prepared, and ready to carry out the fishing trip to end all fishing trips.

Instead, he had led them to a dark, cold silence, as good as any grave.

Again the shark passed down the port side and he could hear the gasps and whispers, curses and prayers from the men of the U-616. Krauser remained silent himself, desperate to do all he could to hide from the beast.

He counted the seconds in his head, and finally reached three hundred. “It’s gone,” he whispered.

“Are you sure?”

Krauser used the periscope once again. The freighter was now a mere four hundred metres away from them, and showed no sign of having noticed them. He spun the periscope a full circle, desperate to catch any sight of the shark, yet also hoping that it was long gone.

He turned back from the periscope and was surprised to see Dahlen standing behind him in the control room. There was something in the Norwegian man’s eyes that indicated he was rattled, but the rest of his face was as stoic as ever. “I say we have no more doubts that this shark is hunting your boat.”

Krauser looked around the control room, and saw that Kleiner and the other crew were watching him. He considered dismissing Dahlen’s concerns with a show of bravado; but he knew that the time for that was long past. All the men had seen or felt or at least heard the stories of the colossal shark that haunted these waters, and to dismiss it out of hand would only serve to make him seem stupid, out of touch, or foolhardy. Instead he took in a breath, let it out steadily, and nodded. “Yes. This thing is hunting us, which is another reason why I am turning us back for home and safety before any more lives are lost.”

“Captain, the Freyr could easily manage more than twice the speed of your boat, and this monster managed to catch it and tear it to pieces. You think that you can outrun it?”

“No, but I think we can outpace it. We can make seventeen knots on the surface, admittedly slower underwater, but still a good, constant speed. Even assuming that our fishy friend out there can swim faster than that, it will still have to stop to sleep. We can rotate crews and move constantly. The shark will tire, Mr Dahlen. The U-616 will not.”

Dahlen nodded assent. “I hope you are right. However, I must warn you, Captain… you continue to underestimate this sh-”

The rumbling that heralded the approach of the shark returned suddenly, harder and faster than before. It practically howled up from the rear, up the starboard side, and barrelled past the command room. The submarine rattled and shuddered as the monster passed by so close and so fast, causing several men – including Krauser – to lose their footing and fall. Equipment and supplies tumbled from cabinets and storage units as the boat rocked calamitously on its axis. It took only two or three seconds for the shark to pass them, but its wake left them rocking and shouting.

When the U-616 eventually stabilised and the crew dusted themselves down and got to their feet, Kleiner rushed to the periscope to see if he could spot the monster. Krauser was still sat on the floor, gripping his right bicep – the ruckus had caused his gunshot wound to open up again, turning his shirt sleeve a deep red. Dahlen helped him to his feet and raised an eyebrow. “You are okay?”

“I will survive.”

“You are still sure your boat can out pace this shark?”

Krauser shook his head and muttered. “I am not sure of anything anymore.”

“Captain!” called Kleiner, from the periscope. “The shark has attacked the freighter! They are sinking!”

Krauser shakily made his way over to the periscope, gripping his bleeding arm. He peered through the viewfinder and saw that the freighter was indeed listing dangerously to one side. He muttered a curse under his breath. He knew that Dahlen would take this as some sort of twisted moral victory, claiming that the freighter had been sunk because of his refusal to stay and destroy the shark earlier. He was about to once again raise the notion that it could be a fellow U-Boat, or even a Wolf Pack operating in the area, when he saw the three metre high fin of the shark pass across his view, roughly halfway between them and the freighter. He jumped backwards and swore.

“What is it?” asked Kleiner. “Captain?”

“It’s the shark,” whispered Krauser. “It’s attacked the freighter. Maintain silent running. Maybe it’ll leave us alone and fill itself up on those sailors.”

“What?” shouted Dahlen. “You cannot leave those men as a distraction, as bait, as chum ! Are you Nazis really so divorced from your humanity that this is acceptable to you? Those are men, not some terrain to be taken advantage of.”

Krauser nodded to an ensign. “Mr Letzer, please escort Mr Dahlen back to his bunk.”

Dahlen shook off the ensign’s hand as soon as it touched his arm. “I can find my own way back. Krauser, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Krauser kept his face blank as the Norwegian was shown from the command room; though the truth be told, he was deeply shaken inside. He knew the effect of his actions – or rather, his inactions – but the fact was that his responsibility lay with his boat and his crew. Surely Dahlen had to understand that?

The command room seemed doubly silent following the outburst of a moment before, and it made the atmosphere turn even tenser, if such a thing were believable. Occasionally a shudder would run the length of the submarine as the shark swam by them; sometimes to port, sometimes to starboard and once, terrifyingly, directly underneath them. Kleiner maintained a watch on the periscope, and at least a quarter of an hour passed before he spoke. “I just saw its fin, sir. It’s circling the freighter.”

“Distance?”

“Six hundred… maybe seven hundred metres, sir.”

“Any sign of lifeboats?”

Kleiner squinted and panned around a little. “No, sir. Do you think he…?”

Krauser nodded. “Surface.”

The bells and klaxons and shouts of the crew heralded the surfacing of the U-616 like a hallelujah chorus. As soon as they were surfaced, Krauser rushed up to the deck. Accompanied by Kleiner and the newly arrived Hertz, he felt his breath knocked from his chest as he saw the shark surface.