by Clay Blair
U-boat Control ordered these two IXs to patrol the Caribbean Sea. The U-67 was to go by way of the Old Bahama Channel and Windward Passage to an area near Jamaica. The U-527 was to go via the Straits of Florida into the Gulf of Mexico to the Yucatan Channel. On May 27, Müller-Stöckheim in U-67 reported that his Metox was out of commission and irreparable. U-boat Control therefore held U-67 in an open-ocean area between Bermuda and Puerto Rico until she could get a Metox from another U-boat.
While marking time in this remote area, Müller-Stöckheim came upon a big, fast freighter on June 8 and another on June 24. The first outran him, but he shot six torpedoes at the second. One torpedo prematured merely one hundred yards from the U-boat, the other five missed. Müller-Stöckheim then surfaced for a gun chase, but the gunners on the freighter beat him off. In late June, per plan, he received a Metox from an outbound boat (the VII U-572), but he never entered the Caribbean as originally intended. While homebound, U-67 also ran into great trouble, as will be described.
Westbound near Bermuda, Herbert Uhlig in U-527 came upon a big, fast freighter, at which he fired two torpedoes that missed. He then proceeded via the Straits of Florida across the Gulf of Mexico to the Yucatan Channel. He reported “heavy” air and surface-ship ASW patrols that inhibited his reconnaissance. He attacked one lone freighter with four torpedoes, but these also missed. About July 1 he commenced his homeward voyage via the Straits of Florida and Bermuda. Near that island, he reported, he was attacked by several aircraft, including one land-based plane that dived out of cloud cover. He survived these attacks and continued easterly to a rendezvous with a U-tanker. The U-527 was also to encounter severe problems, as will be described.
This foray into United States and Caribbean waters was the least productive in the war to date. Of the five IXs which participated, only one, Markworth’s U-66, inflicted any damage on Allied shipping: two tankers for about 20,400 tons sunk and a third tanker damaged. One boat, Bargsten’s U-521, had been lost with all hands except Bargsten. The foray was thus useful only to foster the impression that the U-boat menace was still quite real and widespread, thus tying down a very great number of ASW resources in American waters and slowing down the movement of war matériel to the British Isles by convoying.
The three boats assigned to patrol Brazilian waters, all commanded by Ritterkreuz holders, were Carl Emmermann in the IXC U-172; Friedrich Guggenberger, new skipper of the IXC U-513; and the new IXD2 U-cruiser U-199, commanded by Hans-Werner Kraus, age twenty-seven.
These boats had troublesome and arduous patrols. Guggenberger in U-513 and Emmermann in U-172 refueled en route, Guggenberger from Ebe Schnoor’s XIV U-tanker U-460* Owing to the loss of U-118, and to the loss of the XIV tanker U-463 outbound in Biscay, U-boat Control was compelled to utilize several newly sailing IXC40s as provisional U-tankers. One of these, Kurt Lange in U-530, furious at his diversion to be a supply boat, refueled Emmermann’s U-172 on June 19. For these reasons Emmermann was to reach Brazilian waters well behind the other boats.
En route to Brazil, Guggenberger, a tough and demanding skipper, conducted so many drills that the crew felt they were back in Baltic workup. On the last day of May, Guggenberger got his first opportunity to lead the crew in the real thing. He found a large (10,000- to 12,000-ton) freighter sailing alone at about 16 knots. He chased her on the surface for several hours, but could not overtake her or get close enough for an effective attack. Finally, in desperation, he shot three torpedoes from very long range. All missed, leaving him with eighteen torpedoes, twelve below (one defective) and, in keeping with the new policy, only six air torpedoes in topside canisters.
A new U.S. Navy Fleet Air Wing (Fairwing), 16, commanded by Rossmore D. Lyon, was in the process of deploying to Brazil. It established its headquarters at Recife, adjacent to that of Admiral Jonas H. Ingram, Commander in Chief, Fourth Fleet, the U.S. naval presence in the southwest Atlantic. Initially Fairwing 16 consisted of the following units:
VP 74 Mariners at Bahia*
VP 94 Catalinas at Natal†
VB 107 B-24s at Natal (ex-VP 83)‡
VB 127 Venturas at Natal
VB 129 Venturas at Recife§
Entering Brazilian waters first, Guggenberger promptly found targets. On June 21, he sank a 1,700-ton Swedish neutral, deemed to be carrying contraband. Four days later, on June 25, he shot three torpedoes at the 6,000-ton American tanker Eagle. One hit, but she got away and limped into Rio de Janeiro. In due course she was repaired and returned to service. Guggenberger downloaded four air torpedoes and stored the defective electric topside. This rearrangement gave him twelve torpedoes below and two good air torpedoes topside.
Kraus in the U-cruiser U-199 was next to arrive in Brazilian waters. If he found these waters to be fallow, Kraus had authority to leave the area, cross the South Atlantic, and patrol off Cape Town. On June 27, he attacked the American Liberty ship Charles Willson Peale with three torpedoes. One or more hit, but she survived and her Armed Guard gun crew counterattacked U-199. Kraus returned fire with a new 37mm flak gun and his 4.1” forward deck gun to little effect. With enemy shells falling close, Kraus dived his big, clumsy boat and withdrew. The damaged Peale ran into Rio. Eventually she, too, was returned to service.
Emmermann in U-172 reached Brazilian waters in the last week of June. With customary skill, he and his crew promptly found and sank the 4,700-ton British freighter Vernon City. Upon receiving the report of this sinking, Dönitz awarded Emmermann Oak Leaves to his Ritterkreuz,# placing him on a par in decorations with Guggenberger in U-513. Later, as was the custom, Hitler personally presented the award to Emmermann. A war correspondent, Helmut Brendt, sailing with Emmermann on this trip, joined in the improvised shipboard celebration.
Guggenberger was next to score. On the night of June 30, he found and chased a big freighter that escaped into a rain squall. Relentlessly pursuing on the estimated course of the enemy, Guggenberger came upon a ship, but it was not the same ship. Rather, it was a 1,100-ton Brazilian coaster, Tutola, with a load of coffee. Guggenberger sank her with a single torpedo. Two days later, on July 3, he met a convoy of six ships, escorted by a single aircraft. With a risky, battery-draining burst of underwater speed into merely one hundred feet of water, Guggenberger got close enough to shoot submerged. He fired five torpedoes into the formation at several targets but hit only one, the 7,200-ton American Liberty ship Elihu B. Washburne, which sank.
Nearby, Kraus in the IXD2 U-cruiser U-199 had a close call. Two Brazilian aircraft found and pinned him down in shallow coastal waters. Later in the afternoon, a U.S. Navy Mariner of Squadron VP 74, piloted by Harold C. Carey, attacked U-199. Boldly standing his ground, Kraus counterattacked with a furious burst of flak that brought down the Mariner with the loss of all hands. On the day following, July 4, Kraus sank with his deck gun a sailing vessel that has not been identified.
Having received Oak Leaves, Emmermann in U-172 might well have rested on his laurels but that would not have been in character. He continued to hunt aggressively, sinking three more ships: the 6,500-ton American freighter African Star on July 12, the 4,600-ton British freighter Harmonic on July 15, and the 7,200-ton British Liberty ship Fort Chilcotin on July 24. With a bag of four ships for about 23,000 tons, Emmermann soon commenced the voyage home. As will be seen, he, too, had a rough time reaching France.
Contemptuous of Allied ASW measures in Brazilian waters, Guggenberger in U-513 continued to hunt boldly on the surface. On July 16, he torpedoed and sank his third ship, the 7,200-ton American Liberty ship Richard Caswell sailing alone about four hundred miles south of Rio de Janeiro. The American Navy’s small (1,800-ton) seaplane tender Barnegat, supporting the Mariners of Squadron VP 74 based at Florianopolis, rescued the survivors. This sinking persuaded the Mariners to patrol that area with greater diligence.
Three days later, a Mariner of that squadron, piloted by Roy S. Whitcomb, found Guggenberger’s U-513 on the surface not far from the scene of the Caswell sinking. Gug
genberger saw the plane, but dismissed it as probably an “old crate” flown by Brazilians and manned his single 37mm and 20mm guns. After a few rounds, the 20mm jammed, but Guggenberger remained calmly confident as Whitcomb bore in boldly and dropped four depth charges. Two charges hit very close, utterly destroying U-513, which sank instantly.
The blasts threw a number of Germans, including Guggenberger, into the sea. Seeing them, Whitcomb made a low pass and dropped two rafts and life jackets. He then notified the tender Barnegat, which, after an unavoidable delay, got under way. When she reached the scene about dusk, she could find only one raft containing Guggenberger and six enlisted men. Forty-six other Germans perished. After extensive interrogation, Guggenberger was incarcerated at a POW camp, Papago Park, on an Indian reservation in Arizona.*
Patrolling farther to the north, near Rio de Janeiro, Kraus in the U-cruiser U-199 attacked his first noteworthy ship on July 24, the 4,200-ton British freighter Henzada. The first three torpedoes missed, but one of two stern shots hit and the ship broke in half and sank in twenty minutes. A week later, sixty miles off Rio, Kraus chased a lone ship until dawn on July 31. Responding to the alarm, a Mariner of Squadron VP 74, piloted by William F. Smith, found U-199 on the surface. Boldly flying into the 20mm and 37mm flak, Smith attacked, dropping six depth charges in his first run and two more in a second run. These explosions badly damaged U-199, but Kraus kept up the flak and ran west toward shallow water, where he intended to bottom and make repairs.
Holding firmly to his target, Smith raked U-199 with machine guns and radioed for help. Two Brazilian planes promptly responded, a Hudson and a Catalina. The Hudson dropped two depth charges that fell wide. While the Hudson, piloted by S. C. Schnoor, strafed the U-boat, the Catalina, piloted by Alberto M. Torres, finally sank U-199 with four depth charges. Twelve of U-199’s sixty-one-man crew, including Kraus, the first and second watch officers, a midshipman, and a warrant quartermaster survived and were rescued by the tender Barnegat, and all eventually wound up in a POW camp.
This three-boat foray into Brazilian waters resulted in nine merchant ships sunk for about 44,000 tons and two ships damaged. It was a far better return than the concurrent five-boat foray into United States waters that resulted in only two ships sunk for about 20,000 tons and one ship damaged. But the price was a shock: two of the three boats sunk, one a valuable U-cruiser.
The combined results of the nine IXs that reached American waters in May was eleven ships for 64,000 tons sunk in return for three U-boats lost (U-199, U-513, U-521), commanded by the Ritterkreuz holders Kraus, Guggenberger, and Bargsten, all of whom survived. That was an unacceptable exchange rate of 3.6 ships per U-boat sunk and a miserable average return of 1.4 ships sunk per boat per patrol.
The homebound voyages of the surviving six IXs coincided with the American decision to allow the “jeep” carrier support groups with UG and GU convoys greater freedom of action. Although the Allies “lost” naval Enigma at about this same time (July 1 to July 21) due to a modification to the machine (a new rotor or reflector, Gamma), the land-based and shipboard Huff Duff stations were operating at peak efficiency. Hence the four carriers (Bogue, Card, Core, Santee) patrolling the “southern route” were able to capitalize on the radio chatter of inbound and outbound boats that were attempting a rendezvous to refuel.
Aircraft from the “jeep” carrier Core, making her first combat patrol in support of westbound convoy GUS 9, found the Ritterkreuz holder Müller-Stöckheim in the homebound U-67 on July 16. The pilot of an Avenger, Robert P. Williams, attacked. Unalert, the men standing watch on U-67, including the young first watch officer, Walter Otto, failed to man the flak guns in time. Williams was thus able to drop four depth charges in a textbook attack. The explosions blew the four sailors on watch into the sea and destroyed U-67, which sank instantly.* Later that day, one of Core’s screen, the four-stack destroyer McCormick, fished out three lucky survivors: Otto and two enlisted men. Pilot Williams was awarded the Navy Cross.
The sinking of the homebound U-67 raised the losses in the group of eight Type IXs that reached American waters in May to four (50 percent). The four surviving boats were Markworth in U-66, Wintermeyer in the damaged U-190 (who sank no ships), Emmermann in U-172, and Uhlig in U-527. All had yet to run the gauntlet of land- and carrier-based aircraft in order to reach France.
Thus it was that due in part to hazards involved in refueling in the “southern” area, and to the deployment of Fairwing 16 to Recife, U-boat patrols to American waters were no safer than patrols to the North Atlantic run. However, U-boat Control either did not yet realize this or chose to ignore it, for in June twenty-two more boats were to sail to the Americas.
“No OPTION BUT TO FIGHT ON”
In the months of April and May 1943, Allied forces sank fifty-eight U-boats at the battlefronts: fifty-three in the Atlantic, four in the Mediterranean, and one in the Arctic. The fifty-three losses in the Atlantic comprised almost one-third of that force: thirty-five Type VIIs, seventeen Type IXs, and one Type XIV U-tanker, U-463*
Throughout the U-boat officer corps a debate arose as to whether or not the “tonnage war” against Allied shipping should continue. Two of the most highly decorated skippers, Reinhard Suhren and Erich Topp, argued against it because of the anticipated “immense losses” and the lack of even “slightest prospect of success,” as Topp put it later in his memoir. On the other hand, the even more highly decorated skippers Albrecht Brandi and Wolfgang Lüth thought the campaign should continue with the greatest intensity possible.
Even Dönitz was torn. He wrote in his memoir:
In June 1943 I was faced with the most difficult decision of the whole war. 1 had to make up my mind whether to withdraw the boats from all areas and call off the U-boat war, or to let them continue operations in some suitably modified form, regardless of the enemy’s superiority.
Dönitz correctly foresaw that if the U-boat campaign was to be continued, “losses would rise to an appalling height” and would “involve certain and deliberate self-sacrifice” on the part of the skippers and crews. That is, any attempts would be suicide missions. Nonetheless, after a meeting with the Senior Officer, Submarines (West), Hans-Rudolf Rösing, and the commanders of Combat Flotillas 3, 7, 9, and 10,* Dönitz wrote, he came to the “bitter conclusion” that “we had no option but to fight on.” A continuation of the submarine campaign would:
• Comply with Hitler’s insistence that the U-boat war be carried forward at the highest possible intensity.
• Maintain the momentum and morale of the submarine force, avoiding a crippling hiatus followed by a difficult restart.
• Compel the Allies to continue convoying in all waters, reducing by one-quarter to one-third the movement of men and supplies to the various battle-fronts.
• Tie down what Dönitz estimated to be 1,300 Allied aircraft and 3,300 ships assigned to ASW roles that might be deployed in other tasks against the Axis.
• Train under combat conditions the new generation of submariners required to man the new Type XXI and Type XXIII “electro boats.”
• Enable the Germans to ferret out new Allied ASW technology so that countermeasures and tactics could be evolved for the “electro boats.”
Theretofore Dönitz, “the Lion” had enjoyed nearly divine status among the men in the U-boat force. All German submariners had believed in his ability and judgment and had worshipped him faithfully. However, his order to fight on with such patently inferior weapons was seen by an embittered few as a cold-blooded decision to send his loyal corps to a certain death. Some thought that with his promotion to grand admiral and commander in chief of the Kriegsmarine, Dönitz had become much too closely involved with Hitler and his inner circle in Berlin. Others thought that given the colossal failures on battlefields in the Soviet Union and North Africa, the plan to produce a new fleet of war-decisive “electro boats” and “snort boats” in time to defeat the Allies was delusional.
U-boat Control mount
ed forty-eight patrols by attack boats in June. These comprised thirty-five VIIs, twelve IXs, and one new IXD2 U-cruiser, U-200. As in prior months, the number of Type XIV (“Milk Cow”) U-tankers was not adequate to serve the needs of so many VIIs. Only two XIV U-tankers sailed in June: U-462 and U-487. As will be described, an aircraft hit U-462 in Biscay, forcing her to abort; however, she made repairs and resailed in the last days of the month. Carrier aircraft sank the U-487, setting in motion yet another refueling crisis.
The patrol areas assigned to thirty-three of these forty-eight attack boats reflected the continuing German belief that Allied ASW measures were less intense in distant waters. The fifteen patrols mounted in the North and Middle Atlantic included six boats on maiden parols from Germany and nine from France on decoy missions.
The seven new boats from Germany and the one from the Arctic force joining the Atlantic force incurred catastrophic losses. Six were sunk, one was so badly damaged that she had to abort to France, and the other, an IXC40, had to be diverted to a refueling mission. These were:
• The new VII U-417, commanded by Wolfgang Schreiner, age twenty-six. She was sunk on June 11 in the Iceland-Faeroes gap, merely nine days out from Kiel by a B-17 of British Squadron 206. Piloted by R. B. Thompson, the plane dropped four shallow-set depth charges. Before she sank, the U-417 hit the B-17 with flak guns, inflicting such serious damage that the plane was forced to ditch.
Sighting the British airmen in a dinghy, an American Catalina of the Iceland-based Squadron VP 84 attempted to rescue them but crashed, forcing the Americans to scramble into their life raft. On June 14, a Catalina of the Faeroes-based British Squadron 190, piloted by J. A. Holmes, rescued the British aircrew but the American raft was not found until June 16, by which time only one airman was still alive. After rescue, the surviving British B-17 aircrew reported seeing “twenty to thirty” Germans in the water where U-417 went down, “some covered in oil, some shaking their fists at the aircraft, but the majority prone.” There were no survivors ofU-417.