W. IV - Honor Bound 05 - The Honor of Spies

Lines were tossed aboard by sailors on the submarine, and hawsers then fed to the submarine from the ship. The U-409 was pulled carefully against the cushion.

A gangway was slid from the deck of the ship onto the submarine. Two men walked toward it as it was lashed into place. One was dressed, as was von Dattenberg, in a sweater and trousers topped off by an equally battered hat. Despite his neatly trimmed full beard, the captain of the U-409 looked very young.

The man with him was in a black SS uniform, its insignia identifying him as an SS-brigadefuhrer. He was pale-faced, and the uniform was mussed.

And probably dirty, von Dattenberg thought.

The captain of the U-409 walked up the gangway, stopped, raised his arm in a salute, and said, "Permission to board, Kapitan?"

The SS-brigadefuhrer pushed past him onto the ship.

De Banderano returned the salute. "Granted. Welcome."

The SS-brigadefuhrer threw his arm straight out in the Nazi salute and barked, "Heil, Hitler!"

Von Dattenberg returned the salute more than a little sloppily.

De Banderano just looked at him.

"Take me to the kapitan, please."

"I'm the master of the Ciudad de Cadiz."

"Kapitan, I am SS-Brigadefuhrer von Deitzberg. I have your orders."

"You have my orders?" de Banderano said as if surprised.

Von Deitzberg handed him an envelope. As de Banderano tore it open, the submarine captain walked to them, gave a military salute--as opposed to the Nazi salute--and said, "Kapitanleutnant Wertz, Kapitan. I have the honor to command U-409."

De Banderano returned that salute and offered his hand.

"Von Dattenberg, U-405," von Dattenberg said.

"Aside from this gentleman," de Banderano said, nodding at von Deitzberg, "what have you got for us?"

"One more SS officer, an obersturmfuhrer; ten SS of other ranks; and one wooden crate."

"I was thinking more of mail," de Banderano said.

"And a packet of mail."

"Why don't you send for that?" de Banderano said. "And then we'll see about feeding you and getting you a bath and some clean clothing."

"The crate, the special shipment, and my men are more important than the mail," von Deitzberg said. "Get them on here first."

"After you've gotten the mail, Capitan, you can bring aboard everything else that comes aboard," de Banderano said calmly.

He handed the orders von Deitzberg had given him to von Dattenberg.

"I didn't give you permission to show him those orders!" von Deitzberg flared.

"There's one thing you should understand, Senor von Deitzberg. I am the master of this vessel. I don't need anyone's permission to do anything, and no one tells me what to do."

Von Deitzberg colored, but he didn't say anything.

"Capitan von Dattenberg," de Banderano said. "Why don't you take Capitan Wertz to your cabin, get him a bath and some clean clothing, and order him breakfast."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"And then, when the crate and the SS personnel who are so important to him are safely aboard, we'll see about getting this fellow a bath and something to eat."

"Aye, aye, sir," von Dattenberg said, and turned to Wertz. "If you'll come with me, Kapitan?"

Kapitanleutnant Wertz waited until von Dattenberg had closed his cabin door before he announced, "I think I like this Spanish kapitan."

"He's a good man."

"And he's not impressed with SS-Brigadefuhrer von Deitzberg."

"He doesn't seem to be."

"Everybody at Saint-Nazaire was. I wanted to throw up."

"Why am I getting the idea you don't like the brigadefuhrer?"

"The only nice thing I can say about that SS bastard is that he got seasick the moment we hit the deep water outside Saint-Nazaire, and stayed that way whenever we were on the surface--and we were on the surface most of the way."

Von Dattenberg smiled but said nothing.

Wertz warmed to his subject as he began pulling off his clothing.

"He showed up at the pens like royalty. And all of our never-leave-the-port superiors fell all over each other trying to kiss his ass. He has four fucking suitcases, big ones."

"Where did you stow them?"

"We took off four torpedoes to make room for them. And the crap those storm troopers had with them."

"Well, there are torpedoes aboard the Cadiz . This is a floating warehouse."

Von Dattenberg, as Wertz went on, realized that the cork was out of the bottle: "When I showed the SS sonofabitch my cabin, and graciously, in the tradition of the naval service, showed him the fold-down bunk and told him I would sleep there, and that he could use my bunk, he said, 'I really think you should find some other accommodation.' "

"Jesus!"

"So I moved in with my Number One, and we played hot sheets all across the Atlantic."

"Well, he is an SS-brigadefuhrer."

"Who showered at least twice a day, usually throwing up in the stall--which was sort of funny--and then complained about how long it took my men to clean up after him. He used up more fresh water taking showers than my crew got to drink."

Kapitanleutnant Wertz was now down to his shorts, which were once white but now gray and oil-stained.

"If he hadn't been seasick all the time, I'd have thrown the sonofabitch over the side--or shot him out of a tube and reported he had died gloriously for the Fuhrer."

"Take it easy, Wertz," von Dattenberg said seriously. "You don't want anyone hearing you talk like that."

Now there was concern on Wertz's face.

"Except another U-boat skipper, of course," von Dattenberg added to ease his mind. "And now that you've told me the brigadefuhrer suffers terribly from mal de mer, I'll do my best to stay on the surface until we're nearly where we're going with him."

"Where are you going?"

"They didn't tell you?"

"No, and sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"I'd love to tell you, just to piss him off, but that would be dangerous for both of us."

Wertz nodded his understanding.

"Go have your shower," von Dattenberg said. "There's fresh clothing on the bunk, and while you're doing that, I'll order your breakfast. Ham and eggs?"

[FOUR]

Wardroom

MV Ciudad de Cadiz

0915 11 September 1943

SS-Brigadefuhrer Manfred von Deitzberg, now attired in an ordinary seaman's blue shirt and trousers, was eating--wolfing down--his breakfast of ham steak and eggs and fried potatoes at the master's table in the wardroom.

"You were hungry, weren't you?" Capitan de Banderano asked, smiling.

Von Deitzberg, obviously making an attempt to pour some oil on what he recognized as troubled waters, smiled at both von Dattenberg--who was sitting across from him at the table--and de Banderano, who was tilted back in his chair at the head of the table.

"Obviously, I am not cut out to be a mariner," he said. "I haven't had much to eat but crackers and tea for days."

"So Capitan Wertz said," de Banderano said. "Well, you can make up for that now."

"You have a dry cleaning facility on here? The steward said something . . ."

"There is a dry cleaning machine aboard," de Banderano said. "And a laundry. And stocks of uniforms for the men from the Unterseebooten. Unfortunately, no SS uniforms. We don't see many SS men."

"And the food! This is marvelous ham! And fresh eggs! Where do you get all this?"

"Either in Montevideo or Buenos Aires. We enter those ports, usually alternately, every two weeks or so. We top off our fuel tanks and take on stocks of fresh food."

"With which you replenish the Unterseebooten," von Deitzberg said.

"We do."

"And you have no trouble getting into and out of those ports?"

De Banderano shook his head.