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Authors: Ron Smoak

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BOOK: Alpha Threat
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“Reverse engines,” barked the U-boat captain.
 

“Reverse engines, aye, sir,” came Hientz’s reply as the message was relayed to the engine room.
 
The U-boat shuddered as the engines reversed, churning up mud and silt from the bottom.
 

“All stop!” commanded the captain.
 
“Tie off all lines and secure the boat,” he said turning to Hientz.
 
“Let me go see what this is all about.
 
You have the bridge, Hientz.”
 
Adler took a quick assessment of the area around the small dock.
 
Now, this is what I call the middle of nowhere, he thought.
 
Here they were in some forgotten cove on the coast of South America.
 
It seemed as though they were ten thousand miles from nowhere.
 
Actually, the captain was not far off target.
 

“Aye, sir,” replied Hientz as he motioned to several crewmen who were already on the deck below to tie the boat to the small pier.
 
Captain Adler stepped down from the conning tower and down on the deck.
 
He lifted his cap and ran the fingers of one hand through his greasy hair.
 
Somehow he thought that might make him more presentable to the three men striding toward him.
 

 
“Heil Hitler!”
barked Leutnant Trox, stepping forward smartly with a crisp raised right hand and arm.
 

“Heil Hitler,”
responded Adler, clearly not as enthused as Trox.
  
Adler’s salute was no more than a wave of his hand.
 

“I have some cargo for you,” pressed Adler.
 
“I want to get this done quickly so I can get back to sea.”
 
A small cove like this did not give Adler a feeling of confidence.
 
To get trapped in here by the enemy meant death for them all.
 

“You are U-1055, I presume?” asked Trox.
 

Adler answered matter-of-factly, “Yes.”
 
He looked over at the large 1055 painted on the conning tower.
 
Dumbass, he thought.

“Have your men unload the cargo and place the crates on the dock.
 
I will check them personally and they will be rechecked by the Gestapo.
 
Then my men will load them into the trucks.
 
In the meantime, you are ordered not to leave the docks, sir.”
 
Trox shifted his eyes toward Grimme.
 
Adler got the message.
 
Goddamned Gestapo, Adler thought.
 

“Very well,” said Adler.
 
He turned to Hientz, who was still on the bridge.
 
“Hientz, get a detail to begin the unloading of the cargo.
 
Use as many men as you need.
 
I want to be out of here within an hour.”
 

“Aye, sir,” replied Hientz as he ducked down to relay the order below.
 

“Captain Adler, please let me introduce myself,” a smiling Grimme said, stepping forward.
 
“I presume you had an uneventful trip?”
 
Grimme pulled off his right glove and offered Adler his hand.
 
Grimme caught the body odor of the U-boat captain.
  
He crinkled his nose, reached into his pocket and took out a handkerchief, pressing it to his nose.
 

Adler looked at the other two officers and cautiously shook Grimme’s hand.
 
Grimme’s hand was cold and damp.
 
Adler winced and quickly let go the handshake.
 

“The trip was long and rough,” stated Adler with little emotion.
 
He clearly did not like his situation and wanted to leave as soon as possible.
 

Captain Adler noticed several large trucks coming out of the jungle, pulling up to the dock.
 
He watched as several dozen soldiers emerged from the back of the trucks and ran down the dock toward them.
 

Grimme continued, “Captain, this is Major Bayer, our base commander here.”
 
Bayer stepped forward and offered Adler a limp, unimpressive handshake.
 

“We are very glad you were able to complete your mission, Captain Adler.
 
You did follow your orders implicitly?
 
The crew knows nothing?” asked Major Bayer.
   

“Yes; only the first officer and navigator,” said Adler, still eyeing both men intently but acutely aware of all of the soldiers rushing their way.
 

“Very good, Captain,” snapped Bayer, also shifting his eyes over to Grimme as if to get a validation that all was okay.
 

“My good captain,” started Grimme, “what news have you brought us from home?”
 

Adler looked squarely into Grimme’s eyes and wondered if the question was some kind of a trap or was Grimme that stupid.
 
He looked around to ensure no one was within earshot.
 

“You may not have heard the war is nearly over.
 
We are losing.
 
Is that the news that you want to hear?”

Grimme looked sternly at Adler.
 
He thought Adler was a traitor.
 
If this so-called captain said that back in Germany, he would be arrested and shot within hours.
 
But they were far from home.
 
He thought of the consequences of shooting Adler himself.
 
He decided to let the comment pass.
 
There was time later to deal with this U-boat pig.
  

Grimme fixed a bleak smile upon his face.
 
“While the war has its inevitable ups and downs, all loyal Germans know we will be victorious in the end.
 
Our Führer will lead us to a glorious victory.”

Adler looked at Grimme as if Grimme was crazy.
 
Actually, Adler thought he was crazy.
 
But who cares in this place.
  

Several soldiers grabbed a narrow wooden gangplank and placed one end on the U-boat deck and the other on the dock.
 
Adler noticed that the gangplank was very heavy.
 
It took six men to manhandle it into place.
 
The first of the crates were beginning to come up from below.
 
The crewmen pushed the crates across the deck and down the gangplank.
  
It was then that Adler spotted the heavily armed SS troops that appeared from nowhere lining the shore on both sides of the dock.
 
Adler surveyed the SS.
 
Whatever he was delivering in these crates must be damned important for such a show of force here in the middle of nowhere.
  

Trox stepped toward Adler.
 
“Captain, as soon as your cargo is loaded and checked, you will be free to go.”

“Thank you, Leutnant,” answered Adler.

Major Bayer was standing beside Adler.
 
He could smell the stench of the U-boat captain and his men after the long voyage.
 
Many days of being confined in the U-boat with other sweaty, dirty men were not pleasant.
 
U-boat sailors in general were proud of their aroma.
 
For the life of him, Bayer could not figure why a man would want to be cooped up in a submarine without adequate bathing facilities and not seeing the light of day for so long.
 
These guys are just crazy, he thought.
 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

 

Wednesday, May 9, 1945

 

A Small Secluded Cove on the Southern Coast of Brazil;
 
9:55 p.m.

 

 

 

The unloading took nearly two hours.
 
All the while, Leutnant Udo Trox meticulously counted and recorded each crate unloaded from the U-boat, carried down the pier and loaded on the trucks.
 
All of this under the scrutiny of Major Bayer, Captain Adler and the ever-present Gestapo, Karl Grimme.
 

With the last crate on the truck, Trox rechecked his tally and conferred with the other three.
 

“I have forty-two crates recorded.
 
Is that the same number you have, Captain Adler?”

Adler reached inside his grimy shirt pocket and took out a small piece of paper and unfolded it.
 
“Yes, forty-two crates.
 
Correct.”

Grimme interjected, “Forty-two crates is exactly what you should have, Captain Adler,” checking his tally.
 
“You have done your job very well, Captain.
 
Please give my compliments to your crew.
 
Your job here is complete.”
  
Grimme turned to one of his SS troopers and motioned to him.

“Captain Adler, after your long voyage I am sure you and your crew need some fresh provisions.
 
I have taken the liberty to provide you with several cases of fresh milk, eggs and fruit.
 
I trust you can use this?”
 

Adler’s face broke into a smile.
 
“Why, yes, we certainly could use fresh food.
 
We’ve not had fresh provisions in quite a while.
 
Sea rations are not the tastiest of food.”
 
For a moment, Adler thought that this Gestapo goon might not be as bad as he thought.
 
Regardless, he and the crew would eat well tonight.
 
This simple pleasure made life good!
 

As the trucks loaded with the crates began to leave another truck backed up to the end of the pier filled with supplies.
   

Adler turned to find his first officer.
 
“Mr. Hientz, make ready to take on fresh provisions.”

“Yes, sir,” Hientz replied with a wide grin. “Yes sir!”

Hientz dropped down into the conning tower and within seconds a forward hatch on the U-boat’s deck opened.
 
Several crewmen streamed out on deck and clamored down the gangplank to help form a man-to-man chain from the gangplank, across the deck and down the hatch.
 
As soon as Grimme’s men began to unload the truck the human chain quickly manhandled the truckload of food into the U-boat.
 
Adler smiled again as he watched his men.
 
They looked happy for the first time in weeks.
 
Within fifteen minutes the entire truck was unloaded and the food stocked aboard.
 

The captain turned back to Grimme.
 
“I was told there would be orders for our next destination.
 
Do you have any for me?”

Grimme reached into his pocket and unfolded some papers.
 
He meticulously reviewed the papers.
 
“I have no orders for you, Captain, at this time.
 
You will receive your new orders at your first scheduled radio contact tomorrow morning.”

“Very well,” answered Adler.
 
“Gentlemen, it is time for us to go,” Adler said smiling.
 
“I want to get back out to sea as quickly as possible.
 
Thank you for the provisions.
 
Thank you very much!”

“It is our pleasure to aid such fine seamen and such a fine U-boat commander,” a smiling Grimme answered.
 
“Well done!”

“Yes.
 
Let me add our congratulations as well, Captain Adler.
 
Leutnant Trox and I also hope your crew enjoys the food,” Major Bayer beamed.
 

With final handshakes, Adler bounded up the gangplank.
 

“Mr. Hientz, let’s get underway!”

“Cast off all lines!”

Trox directed the men on the dock to remove the gangway.
 

Bayer, Grimme and Trox watched as the U-boat slowly and silently moved away from the pier and disappeared into the darkness of the bay.
 
At least the crew of the U-boat was leaving this hellhole, thought Trox.
 
He, on the other hand, was doomed to stay here forever; at least until he could find some way to get back to Germany and home.
 

The loaded trucks left the pier area and headed back into the jungle to wherever they went.
 
Only Grimme knew their final location.
 
And he was not telling anyone.
  

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

 

Wednesday, May 9, 1945

 

Fifty-five nautical miles out at sea in the South Atlantic Ocean;
 
2:30 a.m.

BOOK: Alpha Threat
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