by Clay Blair
No one told Hartenstein that his “neutralization” proposal had been rejected. In any case, he did not wait for approval. On his own initiative on the morning of September 13, he broadcast this extraordinary message in plain English three times:
If any ship will assist the shipwrecked Laconia crew I will not attack her, providing I am not attacked by ship or air force. I picked up 193 men. 4°-52” south. 11°-26” west. German Submarine.
The British in Freetown intercepted this message, but believing it might be a ruse de guerre, refused to credit it or to act. While waiting for a response, Hartenstein cruised about, rescuing and redistributing the survivors. To relieve the crowding on U-156, he transferred thirty-one English and Italians to lifeboats but kept four British women. To prevent lifeboats from swamping, he redistributed about one hundred survivors from overloaded lifeboats to those with more space. Later in the day, Dönitz canceled orders to the four oncoming Eisbär boats to assist in the rescue and specifically directed Hartenstein to turn over all survivors to the first U-boat to arrive at the scene—probably Wiedemann’s U-506—and then head south to rejoin group Eisbär for the attack on Cape Town. In response to Berlin’s request, the 7,500-ton Vichy French cruiser Gloire sailed from Dakar, and two sloops, the fast 650-ton Annamite and the slower 2,000-ton Dumont d’Urville, sailed from Conakry, French Guinea, and Cotonou, Dahomey, respectively.
During September 14 Hartenstein continued to play the role of shepherd. He logged that in addition to the 162 survivors on board U-159, he was surrounded by “roughly twenty-two large fully filled boats and a large number of small rafts.” He retrieved and righted swamped boats, doled out water and food to British and Italians alike, and shifted survivors around to equalize the loads in the boats. He intercepted messages from Dönitz to the four Eisbär boats ordering them to cancel rescue operations, turn about, and go on to Cape Town, to Helmut Witte in U-159, alerting him to prepare to relieve Hartenstein for operations with group Eisbär, and detailed instructions to Hartenstein and to Wiedemann in U-506 and Schacht in U-507 for conducting rescues and meeting the Vichy French ships. Dönitz warned the three German rescue submarines: “All boats, including Hartenstein, only take as many men into the boat as will allow it to be fully ready for action when submerged.”
On the following day, September 15, Würdemann and Schacht arrived at the scene. By then Dönitz had formally substituted Helmut Witte in U-159 for Hartenstein in group Eisbär and had directed Hartenstein to continue the rescue operations until the Vichy French ships arrived. In compliance with Dönitz’s order not to overcrowd the U-boats, Hartenstein transferred 132 Italians to Wiedemann’s U-506, retaining 131, including five women. In addition, Würdemann took in tow four lifeboats, containing, he logged, “about 250 people.” Schacht took on board from the lifeboats or rafts 149 Italians, two English officers, and two women. In addition, he also took in tow four lifeboats containing, he logged, “eighty-six Englishmen and nine Poles.”
After these rescues had been carried out, Würdemann and Schacht gave Dönitz brief descriptions of their situations. In reporting that he had four lifeboats containing 250 people in tow, Würdemann did not say the boats contained British and Poles. Dönitz assumed they were some of the hundreds of Italian survivors. In reporting that he also had four lifeboats in tow, Schacht stated that they contained ninety-five British and Poles. Upon receipt of this message, Dönitz directed Schacht but not Würdemann to cut the lifeboats loose.
Unknown to Berlin and to all but a few Allied personnel, the Americans had only recently established an airfield on the British island of Ascension, 250 miles southwest of the Laconia sinking. Its primary purpose was to serve as a refueling stop for combat and transport aircraft en route to Africa via the Brazil-South Atlantic route. Its secondary purpose was to provide limited air escort and rescue for Allied shipping in this remote area of the South Atlantic. For the secondary task—and for self-defense against Axis air or sea attack—a squadron of twenty-three Air Force planes (eighteen P-39 fighters and five B-25 medium bombers) had recently arrived for permanent duty. Although the squadron had been supplied with the latest ASW depth charges and bombs, none of the airmen had been trained in ASW.
On the morning of September 15, five transient aircraft en route from Ascension to Accra, British Ghana, spotted two U-boats on the surface. When one of the aircraft descended for a closer look, one of the U-boats shot at it with flak guns, or so said the Americans. The plane evaded and resumed its flight to Accra. Another of the planes at a higher altitude radioed Ascension to report the U-boat sighting and the brief encounter. Within ten minutes of this notice, Ascension had two B-25s in the air on a search-and-destroy mission, but they could not find the U-boats. The records do not reveal which U-boats they were.
That same day—September 15—British authorities in Freetown for the first time notified Ascension of the Laconia sinking and of a plan to divert a British merchant ship, Empire Haven, to the scene to rescue the survivors. The garbled or poorly composed message gave the impression that Laconia had only just been sunk that day. It did not mention Hartenstein’s ongoing rescue efforts or his proposal for a diplomatic “neutralization” (or cease-fire) in the rescue area or that Vichy French ships were en route to the scene. The heart of the message was a request for Ascension to provide air cover during Empire Haven’s rescue efforts. Ascension replied that the sinking site (as given in the message) was too far away for its twin-engine B-25 medium bombers to effectively assist, but that a transient B-24 Liberator would be pressed into service on the following day.
The next morning, September 16, Hartenstein reported to Dönitz that he had turned over 132 survivors to Würdemann and that he was attempting to corral the lifeboats, which were drifting over a wide area. Per orders from Dönitz, he intended to remain at the site until the arrival of the Vichy French ships. Beyond Hartenstein’s ken, Würdemann fished out another twelve Italian survivors, bringing his total on board to 142. He also had nine women and children on board and the four lifeboats in tow. Schacht had transferred twenty-three Italians and one British officer from U-507 to the lifeboats, to make room to take on board thirteen more women and sixteen children, bringing the number of survivors on U-507 to an excessive 161 (129 Italians, sixteen children, fifteen women, one British officer). Near U-507 were seven lifeboats containing about 330 people, including about 35 Italians.
That morning—September 16—the transient B-24 Liberator, commanded by James D. Harden, took off from Ascension laden with depth charges and bombs. Two and a half hours later, 9:30 A.M., Harden sighted U-156. At that time Hartenstein had 115 survivors on board (fifty-five Italians, fifty-five British males, and five British females), and was towing four crowded lifeboats and preparing to tie on another. Upon seeing the plane, Hartenstein displayed a homemade six-foot-by-six-foot Red Cross flag over his bridge and attempted to talk to Harden by signal lamp, but in vain. Harden flew off to a safe distance, described the situation to Ascension, and asked for instructions. Unaware of Hartenstein’s proposal for a temporary cease-fire during the rescue, or anything about the ongoing rescues by U-506, U-507, and Cappellini, the squadron commander, Robert C. Richardson III,* replied: “Sink sub.”
Harden returned to U-156 and circled to attack. He later reported officially that the “lifeboats had moved away from sub,” and that on the first pass he dropped three depth charges. Two fell wide but one “hit ten feet astern.” In his official report, Hartenstein stated that when the B-24 reappeared, the four lifeboats were still in tow. When he saw the plane’s bomb-bay doors open, he ordered the towline cut so that he could crash dive. One of the three bombs fell amid the lifeboats, Hartenstein wrote, capsizing one of them and flinging the survivors into the sea. Harden reported that he made four more runs at U-156. On the first three, the depth charges or bombs failed to release. On the fourth and last, Harden dropped two bombs that fell very close. “The sub rolled over and was last seen bottom up,” Harden said, claiming a kill. �
�Crew had abandoned sub and taken to surrounding lifeboats.”
During Harden’s three abortive runs, Hartenstein concluded that the plane’s “bomb racks were empty.” Hence, he remained on the surface. On the last run, Hartenstein reported, one of the two bombs exploded “immediately below the control room.” When the Germans below reported heavy flooding and chlorine gas, Hartenstein ordered all survivors (British and Italians alike) overboard and directed his crew to don life jackets and to prepare to abandon ship. He broadcast a U-boat “distress signal” three times on four different frequencies.
Fortunately for the Germans, the initial damage reports were exaggerated. The flooding was easily checked; no dangerous chlorine gas developed. Both periscopes were damaged but not seriously; seven battery cells were broken. Hartenstein pulled away and dived, furious at the American airmen for failing to honor the Red Cross flag and for bombing the lifeboats. Later he reported the attack to Dönitz, concluding, “Am discontinuing help. All men [survivors] overboard. Am moving away to the west. Am repairing damage.”*
When Dönitz learned of the attack on U-156 he, too, was furious. Some of his equally enraged staffers urged him to break off the rescue. In his memoirs, Dönitz wrote that having set his hand to the task, he could not abandon it and put an end to all such discussion with these words: “I cannot put those people into the water. I shall carry on.” He ordered Hartenstein to “take no further part in salvage operations.” He directed Würdemann and Schacht not to rely on Red Cross flags, to transfer to the lifeboats all survivors except Italians, to keep their U-boats in “instant readiness” to dive and conduct submerged combat.
Not fully informed of what was going on, Revedin in Cappellini arrived at the scene that same day. He saw hundreds of “dots” in the water, which proved to be shark-bitten corpses. Later he found two lifeboats under sail. One contained fifty British males, the other, forty-one British males and forty-three British females and children. Revedin offered to take aboard all survivors in both boats, but all refused. In lieu of rescue, Revedin gave them food, water, cigarettes, and so on and directions to the African coast, six hundred miles away.
In the late afternoon, Revedin found other half-sunk lifeboats. These contained many Italians as well as British and others. He picked up forty-nine of the weakest Italians and put them belowdecks. He then brought aboard “a lot” of British and Poles, who remained topside on the deck while Revedin sought to find one of the Vichy French rescue ships. The Italian POWs told Revedin that the British had treated them barbarically and that probably 1,400 of their number had gone down with the ship, still locked in the holding pens.*
On the following day, September 17, Ascension reverberated with bellicose activity. The five B-25s of the permanent squadron and Harden’s transient B-24 Liberator flew ASW missions from dawn to dusk. Squadron commander Richardson in a B-25 found a group of Laconia lifeboats and informed the British rescue ship Empire Haven of their position. Harden in the B-24 caught sight of Würdemann in U-506, who still had 142 Italians and nine women and children on board, and attacked. Würdemann belatedly crash-dived, but his conning tower was still exposed when Harden made his pass. Luckily for the Germans (and the 151 Laconia survivors), Harden’s depth charges or bombs again fouled and refused to fall. On a second pass, Harden dropped two 500-pound bombs and two 350-pound depth charges, but by then Würdemann was deep and the shallow-set missiles caused no serious damage,† Upon receiving another garbled or unclear message from the British at Freetown, advising that three Vichy French ships were en route from Dakar, Ascension wrongly assumed that these French intended to invade and seize Ascension Island. Therefore the entire garrison girded to repel invaders.
That same day—September 17—the three Vichy French ships arrived at the Laconia sinking site and began picking up the survivors, who had been in the lifeboats or water or U-boats for five days. Gloire rescued fifty-two British from a lifeboat and directed Würdemann and Schacht to put their three hundred-plus survivors on board the sloop Annamite while she, Gloire, hunted for others. During that afternoon and the night of September 17-18, Gloire found 684 more survivors in lifeboats or on rafts or clinging to boards. On September 18, Gloire again met Annamite to take off her three hundred-plus survivors, bringing the number of survivors on Gloire to 1,041, of which 597 were British (including 48 women and children), 373 were Italian, 70 were Poles, and one was a Greek. Gloire then set sail for Casablanca via Dakar, leaving the two sloops to conduct further rescues.
Revedin in Cappellini made contact with the sloop Dumont d’Urville on September 19. He transferred forty-two Italians to the sloop, but as instructed, he retained two British officers (as POWs) and six Italian survivors to guard the British and went directly to Bordeaux. Later that day, Dumont transferred the forty-two Italian POWs to Annamite, who took them to Dakar. Dumont continued searching the area until September 21, in vain, then returned to Cotonou, Dahomey. Two Laconia lifeboats containing twenty survivors later reached the African coast. Thus, it was reckoned roughly, about 1,600 out of about 2,700 persons were lost in the disaster, including about 1,000 of the 1,800 Italian POWs.*
After transferring their survivors to Annamite, U-506 and U-507 reported same to Dönitz. In addition, Schacht sent off several long-winded messages, passing on the Italian allegations of British mistreatment of the POWs and other information of no tactical urgency. In one message, Schacht described the help he had given the British and Polish survivors. That message drew a stern rebuke from Dönitz:
Action was wrong. Boat was dispatched to rescue Italian Allies not for rescue and care of Englishmen and Poles.
At the conclusion of these rescue operations on September 17, Dönitz was exasperated. He thought Hartenstein had shown poor judgment in assuming that a “tacit truce” existed. The Allies could not be trusted. All three German skippers involved in the rescue had unduly risked their U-boats by taking on too many survivors and by towing strings of lifeboats that interfered with crash dives. As a consequence, U-156 and U-506 were nearly lost to air attack. All three skippers likewise erred by showing excessive compassion and humanity to the British and Poles. Schacht erred by sending unnecessarily garrulous reports, which could be DFed.
Dönitz had long since admonished his captains (in Standing Orders 154 and 173) not to put their boats at risk by attempting rescues of survivors. They were to suppress their natural humanitarian instincts and be as hard-hearted as the enemy. Feeling the need to again emphasize these points, that night—September 17—Dönitz issued a more toughly worded repetition of the earlier admonitions:
1. No attempt of any kind must be made at rescuing members of ships sunk; and this includes picking up persons in the water and putting them in lifeboats, righting capsized lifeboats and handing over food and water. Rescue runs counter to the rudimentary demands of warfare for the destruction of enemy ships and crews.
2. Orders for bringing in captains and chief engineers still apply.
3. Rescue the shipwrecked only if their statements will be of importance to your boat.
4. Be harsh, having in mind that the enemy takes no regard of women and children in his bombing attacks on German cities.
This admonition was to achieve fleeting notoriety as the “Laconia Order.” The British prosecutor at Dönitz’s trial in Nuremberg introduced it as the centerpiece in the catalog of “evidence” to prove the charge that Dönitz encouraged inhumane naval warfare in violation of the Submarine Protocol. The prosecutor charged that the admonition was a thinly veiled order for U-boat skippers “deliberately to annihilate” merchant-ship survivors, as Hitler had proposed earlier in the year. But this “evidence” backfired.
The introduction of the admonition at Nuremberg gave the Dönitz defense team an opportunity to depict at length German submariners behaving with unprecedented humanity at great personal risk, while in the same event Allied forces behaved callously, or worse. Speaking with cool restraint, Dönitz showed how the need for the “Laconia Or
der” arose in light of the Laconia experience and convincingly refuted the charge that it was designed to encourage his skippers to kill survivors.
Hartenstein repaired the damage to U-156 and continued his patrol in the Freetown area. To his delight, word came that he had been awarded a Ritterkreuz.* On September 19, he sank by torpedo and gun his third ship of the patrol, the 4,700-ton British freighter Quebec City, sailing alone, but in the month of October he had no successes. When he returned to France, Dönitz criticized his role in the Laconia affair—for assuming he could arrange a “tacit truce”—but otherwise praised him for conducting a “well-executed” patrol.
Würdemann in U-506, who had sunk four ships off Freetown and in the Gulf of Guinea before engaging in the Laconia rescue, obtained some fuel from Hartenstein and returned to patrol near Freetown. Like Hartenstein, he sank only one other ship before returning to France, but that one brought his bag for the patrol to five ships for 28,000 tons. Schacht in U-507 returned directly from the Laconia rescue to France without sinking any more ships. The confirmed aggregate returns of U-156, U-506, and U-507 came to thirteen ships sunk for 76,500 tons.
OTHER PATROLS TO THE SOUTH ATLANTIC
The four boats of the disbanded group Iitis, which raked south from the Azores to Freetown in search of Sierra Leone convoys, arrived in southern waters in early October. None had found any targets. Ritterkreuz holder Peter Cremer in U-333 wrote in his memoir that he suffered a dangerous exhaust-valve failure that was later attributed to “sabotage” by French workers.
Based on sighting, sinking, and Huff Duff reports, and other slim intelligence, early in the fall Rodger Winn in the Admiralty’s Submarine Tracking Room had warned of the growing buildup of U-boats in the South Atlantic. On October 5, he estimated with uncanny accuracy that there were about fourteen German and four Italian submarines off Freetown, Ascension Island, and farther south. German records show there were fourteen attack U-boats,† three or four Italian boats, plus the U-tanker U-459 and the torpedo-supply boat U-D5 in the Freetown area or farther south.