Churchill's Queen

Churchill'Queen

AJ Davidson

A fictional story based on actual events

CHAPTER ONE

19 January 1940

The Kriegsmarine's U.33 blew its buoyancy tanks and broke through the black surface of the water just before 9.00 am Berlin time. The conning tower hatch was opened and Kapitanleutnant Kroll and Oberleutnant Bauer, erster Wachoffizier, emerged. The Bo'sun and four watch crewmen scrambled onto the bridge next.

Above them the stars glittered in the still dark morning sky, beneath them the water swelled gently. Dawn was breaking through to the east; the sun taking its time this far north. The winter, the first of the war, had been one of the coldest on record and the men on deck soon felt its bite. Submariners, on bitter mornings like this, gave thanks for their cork-soled boots which prevented the numbing chill of the steel penetrating their leg marrow. Kroll felt a comforting rumbling beneath his feet as the Chief Engineer switched from electric motor to the powerful diesels.

Kroll swept the horizon with his Zeiss binoculars. Satisfied they had the sea to themselves, he spent a few seconds watching the bow waves as the boat cleaved cleanly through the water. The submerging had been a practice one, the fourth since they had left their home port of Wilhelmshaven two days before. So far the trip had been pretty uneventful. They had crossed the North Sea undetected, but during the night they had rounded Cape Wrath and turned south into North Minch, the stretch of water dividing the Inner and Outer Hebrides. They would need to maintain constant vigilance in enemy waters, especially when passing the Firth of Clyde, before pushing farther south into the North Channel.

Built in the Germania yard at Kiel, the U.33 was a type VIIB boat, capable of eighteen knots on the surface. Normally armed with fourteen torpedoes, on this voyage the payload consisted of twenty-six magnetic mines. Naval High Command had great expectations for the new mines, designed to lie on the bottom undetected, exploding under the keel of any ship unfortunate enough to sail above it, more often than not, breaking its back.

Mine-laying was not the sort of operation Kroll would have wished for on this his first voyage as the 'Old Man'. There would be no sinking pennants flown when they returned to Wilhelmshaven, no tonnage towards a Knight's Cross. Mines could be as deadly as torpedoes, but the U-boats received no credit when an enemy vessel was sunk by one.

"Permission to come on the bridge?"

Kroll recognised the voice of one of the civilians on board. Mueller had the clipped tones common to the Bavarian aristocracy.

"Permission granted," he barked down the speaking tube.

Mueller emerged quickly from the hatch and nodded at Kroll.

Before any mines could be laid, U.33 had another task to undertake. Civilian passengers hitching a ride on board a U-boat were not unheard of, but still an infrequent enough event to make him and the crew feel uneasy. Two men, grim-faced and wrapped-up in heavy overcoats, carrying battered leather suitcases, had boarded just before they sailed. Kroll had been warned by coded radio signal to expect them. The blond-haired one, Mueller, had handed Kroll his amended orders as soon as they were at sea. The Kriegsmarine envelope had also borne the seal of the Abwehr - Military Intelligence - so Kroll knew not to pry any further into their business, and told his Bo'sun to pass a quiet word of warning among the crew.

On opening the orders, countersigned by Admiral Canaris, the Abwehr chief, he found the instructions to be concise. Sailing under strict radio silence, the U-boat was to take the two civilians to given coordinates one thousand metres off the south-west coast of Scotland, where they would disembark and row themselves ashore in the submarine's collapsible dinghy. The U.33 was then to sail for the Clyde estuary to lay its magnetic mines. There was no mention of when and where the men were to be picked up again.