The high seas west of Skanda and Ascalon. June 1940. The Fascist Wars were rolling along at their highest efficiency. Everyone and their cousin had someone they knew fighting. Fighting, at least in the Northwest, was a likely free ride to the afterlife. The lucky who left the battles unscathed have it ingrained into their mind, that the war is not over yet. The war was not near to being over yet. Those on the high seas may have had it slightly worse, or slightly better, depending on who you’d’ve asked, but there is probably nothing worse in life than getting chosen from the navy draft for the U service. The U service in the 40s was just as close as a living hell as there was. You were to spend 75 days at a time stuck in a slender metal tube, sometimes over water, sometimes under. It was hot inside, and in the summer, it was particularly bad. It was muggy, it was sweaty, it was closer to a sauna than a high tech war vessel.
The objectives of the U-service in the southern Iterian waters was to disrupt the flow of Fascist Eras Dominion shipping to the small Imperyk dominion of Skanda. Ships were grouped into wolfpacks of three to six submarines, and were strung across trade routes to harass enemy convoys.
The Goyanean submarine U-477 and her wolfpack of 5 other submarines, U-430, U-453, U-476, U-480, and U-478, all of which had already gone to their designated patrol areas, lurked just below the surface, snorkeling air as they cruised at snorkel speed, six knots. Kaptajnløjtnant* Mikel Frongsson, of mixed Goyanean-Ascalonian descent, was in charge of the 477. He had 25 years of submarine experience, and was one of the best commanding officers in the U-service. He was peering through the periscope as he saw far off in the distance, the grey silhouettes of Andrennian ships steaming towards Skanda.
“All Stop!” commanded Mikel. The other officers repeated the message back, turning dials, opening valves, and doing the normal sequence of events as the submarine drifted to a halt.
“Sonar, confirm my visual. Heading 0-1-2 degrees off the ship’s bow.”
“Aye sir. Contact confirmed at 0-1-2 off bow.” responded Veissmann, the sonar operator.
Frongsson ordered the ship to turn to the proper firing heading.
“Ready tubes 1 through 6, heading dead ahead, distance, 6000 meters.”
The ordinance master opened valves, and each one of the six forward tubes flooded with water.
“All forward tubes ready sir.”
“Fire on my mark.”
Frongsson looked through his periscope. The atmosphere was tense inside the sub.
“Fire tubes one, two and three, now!”
The sounds of torpedoes leaving their tubes was heard throughout the ship. Executive Officer Jorgan started his timers.
“6 minutes until impact sir.”
“Thank you”
Approximately 6 minutes later, the sonar chief winced at the loud sound of exploding torpedoes coming through his headset.
The captain spoke out loud, announcing his exploits. “Three confirmed explosions. Jorgan, note this in the log books.”
“Aye sir.”
“Snorkel depth. Snorkel full speed at one hundred and eighty degrees. Let’s get out of here before the depth charges start coming.”
Kaptajnløjtnant = Lieutenant Captain
The objectives of the U-service in the southern Iterian waters was to disrupt the flow of Fascist Eras Dominion shipping to the small Imperyk dominion of Skanda. Ships were grouped into wolfpacks of three to six submarines, and were strung across trade routes to harass enemy convoys.
The Goyanean submarine U-477 and her wolfpack of 5 other submarines, U-430, U-453, U-476, U-480, and U-478, all of which had already gone to their designated patrol areas, lurked just below the surface, snorkeling air as they cruised at snorkel speed, six knots. Kaptajnløjtnant* Mikel Frongsson, of mixed Goyanean-Ascalonian descent, was in charge of the 477. He had 25 years of submarine experience, and was one of the best commanding officers in the U-service. He was peering through the periscope as he saw far off in the distance, the grey silhouettes of Andrennian ships steaming towards Skanda.
“All Stop!” commanded Mikel. The other officers repeated the message back, turning dials, opening valves, and doing the normal sequence of events as the submarine drifted to a halt.
“Sonar, confirm my visual. Heading 0-1-2 degrees off the ship’s bow.”
“Aye sir. Contact confirmed at 0-1-2 off bow.” responded Veissmann, the sonar operator.
Frongsson ordered the ship to turn to the proper firing heading.
“Ready tubes 1 through 6, heading dead ahead, distance, 6000 meters.”
The ordinance master opened valves, and each one of the six forward tubes flooded with water.
“All forward tubes ready sir.”
“Fire on my mark.”
Frongsson looked through his periscope. The atmosphere was tense inside the sub.
“Fire tubes one, two and three, now!”
The sounds of torpedoes leaving their tubes was heard throughout the ship. Executive Officer Jorgan started his timers.
“6 minutes until impact sir.”
“Thank you”
Approximately 6 minutes later, the sonar chief winced at the loud sound of exploding torpedoes coming through his headset.
The captain spoke out loud, announcing his exploits. “Three confirmed explosions. Jorgan, note this in the log books.”
“Aye sir.”
“Snorkel depth. Snorkel full speed at one hundred and eighty degrees. Let’s get out of here before the depth charges start coming.”
Kaptajnløjtnant = Lieutenant Captain