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Authors: Michael Gannon

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At 1757 on the 4th, after a seven-and-a-half-hour flight out, the gull-gray-and-white-camouflaged Canso A “W” of 5 Bomber Reconnaissance Squadron was patrolling over position 56°35'N, 42°40'W at 2,000 feet, on course 209° True (T), with wind 20 knots from 270°T, in the base of 10/10 clouds, with visibility 5 miles in haze, when the aircraft picked up a blip on its ASV (10-centimeter) radar. The blip, which went in and out at regular intervals of a few seconds, probably as the result of high swells, indicated a target at seven miles, 25° to port. The pilot, Squadron Leader B. H. “Barry” Moffitt of Toronto, homed onto the blip and, at two and a half miles range, the second engineer, Corporal Harry Knelson of Bladworth, Saskatchewan, made a visual sighting from the port blister. The U-boat was 10° off the port bow, fully surfaced, and proceeding in a rough sea with heavy swell at a speed of 6 to 8 knots on a course estimated at 340T, or obliquely across the Canso’s own course. Its hull and tower he described as being gray in color with patches of green. Ten miles dead ahead of the U-boat, Moffitt and his second pilot could see a straggler vessel from ONS.5.

Moffitt pushed the nose down, opened the throttles, and experienced “the fastest ride I have ever had in a Canso.”
Fast
was a word rarely associated with the Canso. Though powered by two thunderous 14-cylinder, 1200-horsepower Pratt 8c Whitney R1830–82 engines, mounted on a 104-foot-long flexing wing, the flying boat was said by PBY pilots to “climb at ninety, cruise at ninety, and glide at ninety”— an affectionate exaggeration, since the lumbering craft regularly cruised at 110–115 knots, and could build up about 40 more knots in a power glide attack when engines were set to 43 inches manifold pressure and 2,400 rpms. As Moffitt dove out of the cloud base toward the deck, the U-boat sighted him and began an alarm dive. Leveling off at 75 feet with 150 knots indicated, Moffitt attacked from a 12:30 o’clock position, 10° off the submerging U-boat’s starboard bow, catching the target with its decks still awash.

By intervalometer, an electromechanical device that enabled a “stick” of D/Cs to be dropped at specified intervals, or spacings, he and his second pilot adjusted their four wing-mounted 250-pound torpex D/Cs, with hydrostatic fuses set to 22 feet, so that they would drop in train at spacings of 46 feet. At the optimum release point the intervalometer was activated, and the stick of D/Cs separated port and starboard from hard points on the wing, severing their arming wires in sequence: one-two-three-four. No hangups. The first D/C entered the water about 80 feet ahead and to starboard of the U-boat, the second about 40 feet from target. The third and fourth fell fewer than 12 feet off the U-boat’s port side, one forward of the conning tower, the other aft. Unaccountably, for a dive situation, two crewmen were seen on the conning tower bridge.

Moffitt kicked left rudder and pulled into a climbing turn to port. When the D/Cs detonated in train, sending gray-white water skyward in four violent geysers, Moffitt and his crew watched the U-boat heave to a fully surfaced position for about five to ten seconds, then wallow with no forward motion. After ten more seconds, the boat, still in a motionless horizontal position, sank from view. Immediately, oil appeared in bulk and grew to a slick 200 by 800 feet; four of the Canso crew members could smell its pungent odor through the open blisters. Also sighted were woodplanks with fresh breaks; these would have come from the boat’s upper surface decking, where hardwood was used to retard freezing. No survivors or bodies appeared on the frothing surface. Having reached PLE, Canso A “W” departed the scene for Gander at 1828. Back at base, Moffitt submitted photographs and guardedly reported: “U-boat probably damaged.”
21
In London, however, the Admiralty’s U-Boat Assessment Committee decided, on 28 June 1943, that the U-boat in question, which it identified as U-630 (Oblt.z.S. Werner Winkler), was “known sunk.”
22

Understandably, in the few accounts of ONS.5’s passage that have been written since, that has been the identification and the assessment given. In recent years, however, this and other surface and air attacks on U-boats have received a searching reassessment by Robert M. Cop-pock, Curatorial Officer, Foreign Documents Section, Naval Historical
Branch, Ministry of Defence, London (hereafter NHB/MOD). Through careful examination of such factors as U-boat tracks, W/T communications, damage reports, and fuel reserves, Mr. Coppock has concluded that the boat attacked by Canso “W” was U-209 (Kptlt. Heinrich Brodda), which had sortied from Kiel, Germany, on her first war patrol on 6 April. At 1615 GST on 6 May, with her main transmitter out of commission,
U-209
reported to BdU via U
-954
(Kptlt. Odo Loewe) that she had suffered extensive damage:
air-group no.
2
OUT OF ORDER BECAUSE OF AERIAL BOMBS. PRESSURE CONDUIT NO. I OUT OF ORDER. EXHAUST VALVES LEAKING. ONLY PARTIALLY CLEAR FOR SHOOTING. MAIN TRANSMITTER OUT OF ORDER.
29
CBM.

At 1931 GST BdU responded, ordering Brodda to refuel, if necessary, from U
-119
(Kptlt. Horst-Tessen von Kameke) and afterwards to make for Brest on the Brittany coast, some 1,500 miles distant. The injured boat did not rendezvous with U
-119,
and nothing was heard from her again. On 23 May the BdU war diary concluded: “U-209 has been on her return passage since the 6th May. On that day U
-954
reported that U-209 was damaged by aircraft bombs and unable to send signals. Fuel supplies which were then 29 cbm must have been used up by now … so she must be considered lost.” The NHB/MOD reassessment concludes that U
—209
sank by accident on or about 7 May in the general vicinity of 52°N, 38°W, and that her demise was “almost certainly” the result of the damage she suffered from Canso “W” on 4 May.
23
Winkler’s U-630 will be seen later in the narrative.

Another type of engagement was experienced by the second Canso that approached ONS.5 that afternoon. Piloted by Flight Lieutenant J. W. C. “Jack” Langmuir of Toronto, Canso A “E” of 5 Squadron sighted 15 to 18 miles ahead a fully surfaced U-boat proceeding at about 8 knots on a course of 132°T. He later estimated its position as 55°35'N, 43°14'W. The Canso’s course was 023° at 5,500 feet. The time was 2045. Langmuir turned on a reciprocal course to the U-boat in order to get the sun at his back, and then, at 8 miles distance, he commenced a dive, going to 20 feet off the deck at 155 knots, and aiming almost directly at the U-boat’s bow, hoping for a perfect straddle. During his run in, the “dark brown-green” U-boat, deciding to fight it out on the surface
rather than dive, opened up with 20mm anti-aircraft fire from the flak platform aft the conning tower.
24
Pressing on, Langmuir hit the release button and got his perfect straddle, numbers 2 and 3 of the stick entering the water not more than 15 feet to either side of the U-boat’s hull, between the conning tower and stern.

As the Canso banked away to port, her crew observed the U-boat’s bow lifted above the surface by the explosions, showing daylight between the keel and water for about one-third of the boat’s length; yet the boat was still able to maneuver, and did so, making a complete 360° turn to starboard while “pitching and rolling violently” and persisting to offer flak. With all his D/Cs expended, Langmuir moved out of range and ordered the bow gunner, Warrant Officer Clifford Hazlett of Chilliwack, British Columbia, to mount a. 30-caliber Browning machine gun in the bow turret, which took about three minutes. Langmuir then made a second run at the boat. Descending from 200 to 50 feet, he called for fire from both the bow gun and the. 50-caliber gun in the starboard blister, beginning at 400 yards. Two U-boat crewmen on the flak platform were seen to fall, hit, and to crumble over railings into the sea.

After the pass, Langmuir banked to starboard intending to make a third run, but when he looked back he saw only the U-boat’s bow as the craft submerged at an awkward angle. No oil, debris, or survivors were sighted. Having done as much as she could do, Canso A “E” began the long return to base. A large number of photographic negatives were presented at Gander as witness to the action. The assessment from London on 28 June was, “Probably slightly damaged”—a tribute to the integrity of the U-boat’s hull, which took at least two D/C charges within close range.
25
The U-boat was identified later from Enigma intercepts as U
-438
(Kptlt. Heinrich Heinsohn), out of Brest, which signaled to BdU at 0608 on 5 May that she had had an exchange of fire with an aircraft and received minor damage: 4
BOMBS FROM CATALINA
15
METERS OFF.… ATTACKED SEVERAL TIMES BY FLYING BOAT. NO.
40
CYLINDER COVER TORN. OTHER DAMAGES SLIGHT.
Later that day she reassured BdU:
CAN REPAIR DAMAGES TO ENGINE WITH MEANS ON BOARD.
26

On the cusp of battle, as a five-hour night fell across the bleak dress of the North Atlantic, Admiral Dönitz’s U-Boat Command had every reason to be confident. The initial conditions for a convoy fight had never been so favorable. Forty-one boats were forming the battle line, and a convoy had steamed into their near-middle. At 2213 GST (2013 GMT) Dönitz signaled one last personal exhortation to his commanders:

I AM CERTAIN THAT YOU WILL FIGHT WITH EVERYTHING YOU’VE GOT. DON’T OVERESTIMATE YOUR OPPONENT, BUT STRIKE HIM DEAD!
27

First out of the box was twenty-eight-year-old Kptlt. Ulrich Folk-ers, commander of the Type IXC U-125, which sortied on 13 April from her home base with 10th Flotilla at Lorient, a name that soon was to have a curious reprise. On his first patrol Folkers had sailed to the U.S. East Coast in January 1942 as a member of Operation Drumbeat
(Paukenschlag),
during which he sank only one vessel, the 5,666-GRT American freighter
West Ivis.
In three subsequent patrols, however, he put fourteen Allied ships in the locker and received the Knight’s Cross in March 1943. His actions on the night of 4/5 May are not known with any accuracy because neither his war diary (KTB) nor his torpedo shooting reports (
Schussmeldungen)
survived the battle. But German message traffic gives him the first trophy of the night, merchantman No. 34 in column No. 3. Her name:
Lorient
.
28
Built in 1921 by Tyne I.S.B. Co. Ltd., Newcastle, the 4,737-GRT
Lorient
was transporting trade for the Continental Coal and Investments Company of Cardiff. Captain Walter John Manley commanded her merchant crew of forty-six officers and men. On the night of 4 May, without notice or trace, she simply disappeared, with all hands.

Convoy rules specified that upon being torpedoed, a ship should send up two white rockets and key the emergency signal SSS (Struck By Torpedo) on the 600-meter distress band.
Lorient
did neither. Unless she was broken in half, a torpedoed ship in ballast, as
Lorient
was, normally should have had enough buoyancy to stay afloat long enough to make a signal, as well as get her crew away in boats. However, as the next ship to go down demonstrates, that amount of time could be as little as two minutes. In any event, no crewman or debris
from
Lorient
was ever found. Commodore Brook commented simply that
Lorient
“parted company,” probably indicating no more than that she had become an out-of-sight straggler.
29
The conclusion that
Lorient’s
end came at the hands of U-125 is based on a signal from Folkers to BdU, repeated by the latter to all northwest Atlantic boats at 0218 on the 5th:
FOLKERS REPORTS ON
36
METERS. ON
4
MAY IN QU AJ
6298 [55°33
‘n,
41°45’
W] INDEPENDENT
4000
TONNER, COURSE
220,
SUNK.
30
Lorient
would be U-125’s only victim in the battle. Fewer than thirty hours later, U-125 would be a victim herself.

Significantly, at this same early hour of the battle, Kptlt. Helmuth Pich, Commander of U
-168,
reported that he was breaking off the line because of fuel shortage. Just as significantly, BdU, which had fretted over the fuel problem from the time
Fink
was organized, signaled back that it would not permit it. Pich was to continue operations, and all boats were to remain engaged until their fuel state reached five tons, when they could disengage to resupply from a
Milchkuh
standing well clear to the east. Pich was back in the line at 2246.
31
The second U-boat to take offensive action was U-707, a Type VIIC commanded by Oblt.z.S. Günter Gretschel. At 2153 Gretschel dived ahead of the convoy, intending to attack at dusk:

[Through the periscope] I can see two destroyers
[Offa
and
Oribi?]
zigzagging regularly ahead of the convoy. Asdic is being used only in short spurts. One destroyer is now only 1000 meters distant, dead ahead … ; now it zigzags toward port again. Nothing can be seen of the convoy. I think that all’s clear and that I’m through [the screen] when a destroyer heads right for me again. He must have located me [by asdic] because I’m proceeding at a very low speed. Now his asdic is continuous. I dive deeper to A+20 [a prescribed but varying depth such as 30 meters plus 20 meters]. Eight well-placed D/Cs [
Wabos],
The convoy passes overhead.
32

The D/C attack was made by
Tay
, which had moved to close ahead of convoy.
33
Gretschel continued:

Surfaced. I am in the rear of the convoy formation. To the front are a few shadows, to starboard a corvette, astern, a large steamer. Battle stations!
[Auf Gefechtsstationen!]
I attack a modern passenger
steamer of the type
City of Manchester
, with protruding bow and continuous deck, 7500 GRT, on course 210°. I launch a fan shot from Tubes I, II, and IV, bearing 90°, range 1500 meters. After a run of one minute, 34 seconds, an eel hits abaft the mast, causing a high black detonation column. Immediately, the steamer begins sinking by the stern. The upper deck is awash. The vessel remains floating for awhile, then suddenly stands itself up, the bow vertical, and descends into the sea. Time for sinking: 69 seconds. Secure from Battle Stations! Dive to reload.
34

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