by Clay Blair
• The U-281, commanded by Heinz von Davidson, age twenty-five, sailed from La Pallice the next night, September 4. Von Davidson patrolled off North Minch, but after seven days in that area his hydrophones malfunctioned and he aborted to Norway. On October 17, an unidentified aircraft hit U-281, wounding three crewmen. The boat arrived at Farsund, Norway, on October 28, a voyage of fifty-five days.
Brest fell to Allied forces on September 15. The senior submariner in Brest, flotilla commander Werner Winter, radioed Berlin:
U-boat base and 9th Flotilla have been forced to capitulate after several days of brave fighting.... U-boat base going off the air. Hail our Fuhrer!
In St. Nazaire, the base commander, Adolf-Cornelius Piening, judged that the U-267, which had been decommissioned, could be made seaworthy. He directed that the boat be recommissioned, and named Bernhard Knieper, age thirty-three, to command her. Using a temporary snort, Knieper sailed from St. Nazaire on September 23 direct to Norway. The U-267 thus became the last U-boat to leave from a French Atlantic port, bringing to an end four years and two months of U-boat operations from those five bases. Knieper reached Norway on October 29, completing a voyage of thirty-seven days. He then took U-267 onward to the Baltic.
Thus it was that only seventeen of the thirty Type VIIs that were evacuated from France in August and September survived in service. This was the bedraggled remnant of the once impressive Atlantic U-boat force that, at its peak, had attacked Allied convoys in groups numbering from twenty to forty Type VII boats.
Owing to the chaos and confusion in, over, and under the English Channel in the summer of 1944, it is not possible to give an exact accounting of the Type VII U-boat successes against Neptune forces from D day to their evacuation. The tally compiled by Professor Jiirgen Rohwer is doubtless the most accurate. U-boats sailing from France and Norway in this period, he calculated, probably sank or destroyed twenty-six Allied vessels for about 73,000 tons: twelve smallish warships for about 13,000 tons* and fourteen merchantmen for about 60,000 tons, including six Liberty ships.
Dönitz and the OKM downplayed the loss of Type VIIs in the invasion period. In actuality, the loss of Type VIIs in or putting out from bases in France and Norway to repel Allied forces from May 16 to November 1, 1944, was horrific: seventy-two boats, manned by approximately 3,500 men.*
British, Canadian, Australian, Norwegian, Polish, and Czech ASW aircraft and RAF bombers and British and Canadian surface ships accounted for the kills.
The United States air and surface forces patrolled relentlessly for U-boats but the rewards were few. The many B-24s of the U.S. Navy’s Fleet Air Wing 7 could claim only one victory and, as related, that was shared with two Australian Sunder-lands. This was the kill of the U-243 in Biscay on July 8 by Aurelian H. Cooledge of Squadron VB 105, who received a British DFC.
Fairwing 7, meanwhile, had embarked on a highly dangerous secret project to destroy U-boats in a different way. On July 23, before the U-boat evacuation from France had commenced, it formed from Squadron VB 110 the Special Air Unit One. Its purpose was to bomb U-boat pens with radio-controlled B-24 drones jammed with twelve tons of Torpex explosives. This payload was twice the explosive power of the six-ton British Tallboy bombs that had failed to inflict any substantial damage on the pens in Brest.
The most difficult and sensitive part of the flight of the radio-controlled drone was the takeoff from base. The pretakeoff checklist and the starting of the four B-24 engines was too complicated to manage remotely. There was also the possibility that the drone might go out of control on takeoff and crash into a British town or city with unthinkable consequences. It was therefore decided that a pilot (or pilots) would man the controls of the drone during takeoff and climb to cruising altitude and then bail out through the retractable nose-wheel compartment, whereupon a “mother ship” would take over by radio controls the rest of the flight.
A number of pilots of VB 110, bored with the endless and fruitless ASW patrols, volunteered for duty in the Special Air Unit One. Among them was Joseph P. Kennedy, Jr., eldest son of onetime Ambassador Kennedy and brother of the future president. During training on August 12, Kennedy and his copilot, Wilford J. Willy, took off in a B-24 drone, fully loaded with fused Torpex for a check ride. Minutes later the Torpex exploded, vaporizing the aircraft and the pilots. Undeterred, the Navy proceeded with the project and on September 3, pilot Ralph D. Spalding manning the controls of a similarly loaded B-24 drone, took off, climbed to altitude, and bailed out. Operators in a B-17 “mother plane” guided the drone to the German submarine pens on the island of Heligoland in the North Sea, but in the final approach, the drone strayed and the operators missed the pen.*
The forced evacuation of the Type VIIs from the U-boat bases in France was, of course, the most devastating setback possible for Dönitz and the Kriegsmarine. Yet he and the majority of German submariners, like their forebears in the Imperial Navy, defiantly soldiered on with no widespread diminution in fighting spirit. Almost to a man, German submariners believed that the big Type XXI and small Type XXIII electro boats were to usher in a new era in naval warfare, which the Germans were to dominate decisively.
One of the ironies of naval history is that the submarine, initially developed as a “coast defense” weapon, proved to be all but worthless in that role. As related, in World War II this fact was amply demonstrated in Norway in 1940, in the Philippines and at Midway Island in 1941 and 1942, in the Mediterranean from 1941 to 1944, and in France in 1944. Submarines performed most effectively in lone surprise attacks against merchant shipping, wherein the advantage of stealth could be used to the fullest.
EVACUATION OF THE TYPE IXs FROM FRANCE
When the Allies invaded Normandy, there were thirty-seven Type IXs in the Atlantic U-boat force, including nine U-cruisers. ,† Excluding the latter and six conventional IXs in the Far East * the other twenty-two IXs were disposed as follows: three newly sailed for weather-reporting patrols in the North Atlantic,§ eight in or returning from American waters, five in or returning from West African waters, and six in refit and modernization at French bases.
Fourteen of the twenty-two IXs that were on patrol on June 6 returned: three to Norway (U-516, U-530, U-539) and eleven to France, including the three newly sailed weather boats. As related, the U-107 was lost while shifting bases in the Bay of Biscay. Three others, the famous Drumbeater U-123, the IXC U-129, and the IXC40 U-188, just back from the Far East, were deemed unfit for further service and scrapped in Lorient and Bordeaux.* Including those in refit and modernization, the remaining thirteen IXs in French bases were evacuated to Norway.
Six of these thirteen IXs received orders to sail to Norway via patrols in remote areas: two to West Africa and four to the Americas. Their stories in brief:
• The IXC40 snort boat U-546, commanded by Paul Just, age twenty-eight, sailed from Lorient on June 15 bound for the Gulf of Guinea, off West Africa. At tacked by unidentified Allied aircraft in the Bay of Biscay, Just exhausted his flak ammo in counterfire, put back to Lorient to reload on June 22, and resailed on June 25. Allied codebreakers decrypted traffic related to her voyage by July 13 and Tenth Fleet sent a “jeep” carrier hunter-killer group in pursuit. On July 20, Just logged, U-546 sighted a “carrier” and attacked with one T-5, but it missed. The carrier escorts depth-charged U-546 for three hours but Just slipped away.
Owing to the need to conserve fuel for the return to Norway, Just canceled the plan to sail to the Gulf of Guinea. Instead, he patrolled the west African coast from Dakar southward for about five weeks. During this time, Just found a convoy and attacked, firing three torpedoes, but these also missed. After she reported being homebound, Control assigned the U-546 to weather reporting. Just finally reached Norway on November 6, completing an utterly fruitless voyage of 135 days.
• The IXC40 snort boat U-170, commanded by a new skipper, Hans-Gerold Hauber, age thirty, sailed from Lorient to the Dakar-Freetown area on August 4. Hauber patrolled his area for about
a month without success. When he radioed his plan for returning to Norway, Allied codebreakers decrypted the message and located U-1709s position by direction finding. Tenth Fleet put the “jeep” Guadalcanal hunter-killer group athwart her track. On October 25, carrier aircraft found, attacked, and damaged, but did not sink, U-170. In the days following, Hauber attacked with T-5s two “destroyers”—probably destroyer escorts of the Guadalcanal group—but missed. On November 5, he reported “depth-charge damage, snort out of order, hauling off to repair.” He finally reached Norway on November 30, completing an equally fruitless voyage of 119 days.
• The snort boat IXC U-154y commanded by Gerth Gemeiner, age twenty-five, sailed again to the Americas on June 20, this time by the southern route to Cape Hatteras. In response to Enigma decrypts relating to the track of this boat, Tenth Fleet sent the “jeep” carrier Croatan and her escorts from Casablanca on June 30 to stalk her near Madeira. On the morning of July 3, two warships of this group, the destroyer escorts Inch and Frost, got U-154 on sonar and attacked. During this engagement, Croatan’s catapult failed and she could not launch aircraft, but as it turned out, they were not needed. Gemeiner fired two torpedoes at his attackers, but missed. Inch and Frost then hammered the boat with depth charges and destroyed it with the loss of all hands. The debris that rose to the surface included scraps of wood, German uniforms, and human remains.
• The IXC snort boat U-518, commanded by Hans-Werner Offermann, age twenty-three, sailed from Lorient on July 15 to again patrol the Caribbean, this time off Panama. Alerted to the boat’s track by Enigma decrypts, Tenth Fleet diverted escorts of convoy UGS 50 to hunt U-518. These escorts attacked a sonar contact on August 9, which was likely U-518, but Offermann got away. When Control informed him that he must conserve fuel for a return to Norway rather than France, Offermann elected to patrol off Cape Hatteras rather than Panama.
The Allies decrypted and DFed this radio transmission and Tenth Fleet diverted escorts from the Trinidad-Freetown convoy TF 6 to hunt her, but Offermann again eluded his pursuers. Tenth Fleet next sailed the “jeep” carrier Croatan hunter-killer group from Norfolk, but it had no better luck. Nor did two other “jeep” carrier hunter-killer groups and ASW aircraft from Bermuda and the United States East Coast. On September 12, Offermann torpedoed the 7,200-ton American Liberty ship George Ade off Cape Fear. A salvage vessel, Escape, towed her into an anchorage, but a few hours later, on September 13, a hurricane struck, sinking her.*
Offermann returned U-518 to Norway on October 22, completing a voyage of one hundred days.
• The IXC40 snort boat U-802, commanded by Helmut Schmoeckel, age twenty-six, sailed from Lorient to Canadian waters for the second time on June 22. About ten days out, the snort broke and Schmoeckel aborted to France, arriving on July 8. After repairs, he resailed on July 16. Control directed Schmoeckel to enter the mouth of the St. Lawrence River, a high-risk area not patrolled by U-boats since 1942. In view of the surprise attainable and the heavy traffic and the concealment provided by the snort, Control exhorted Schmoeckel to “get right on in there” and seek “great success.”
Alerted to the track of this boat by Enigma decrypts, Tenth Fleet sent the “jeep” carrier Bogue hunter-killer group in pursuit. On the night of August 19, a Bogue aircraft with radar and a searchlight straddled “a surfaced U-boat” with three depth charges about 150 miles southeast of the Grand Banks, but Schmoeckel escaped and snorted slowly to the Gulf of St. Lawrence via Cabot Strait. Aware of the approach of this boat and another, Allied ASW forces in or near the gulf deployed in strength. On the night of August 28, one of the ASW aircraft drove U-802 under, Control logged, but the boat again escaped.
Schmoeckel snorted into the mouth of the St. Lawrence River, a bold stroke in view of the intense ASW measures. He lurked there in poor sonar conditions for about a week but found no worthwhile targets. Believing he had lost the element of surprise, he withdrew to safer waters in the gulf where, on September 14, he shot a T-5 at a “destroyer,” later identified by the Canadian naval historian Michael
Hadley as the Canadian frigate Stettler. The torpedo missed. Stettler and other warships hunted U-802, but she slipped away. On November 12, the boat entered Bergen with a broken snort, completing an arduous, fruitless voyage of 120 days.
• The IXC40 snort boat U-541, commanded by Kurt Petersen, age twenty- seven, also sailed from Lorient for the St. Lawrence River three weeks later, on August 6. Taking advantage of the poor flying weather and an improved radar detector, Petersen cruised on the surface much of the time and actually reached the gulf a few days before U-802. Near Cabot Strait on September 3, he sank the 2,100-ton British freighter Livingston. This success greatly intensified ASW measures and doubtless contributed to the dearth of shipping in the St. Lawrence River that frustrated Schmoeckel in U-802.
Pressing on toward the river, Petersen found a target on the night of September 7-8, surfaced, and prepared to shoot a T-5. An escort, the Canadian corvette Norsyd, got U-541 on radar and broke up the attack with a withering barrage of accurate gunfire. Forced under, Petersen shot the T-5 at Norsyd and claimed a “destroyer,” but the torpedo missed. After eluding these attackers, Petersen boldly snorted into the St. Lawrence River, but he, too, found no targets and after a week, withdrew to safer waters. While exiting the gulf in late September, Michael Hadley wrote, Petersen shot five torpedoes at two freighters, but all missed.
Homebound to Norway, Petersen learned from Control that the Allies had deployed a heavy ASW screen in the Iceland-Faeroes gap. He therefore elected to return via the Denmark Strait and northabout Iceland. In those frigid northern waters, he encountered unusually heavy ice, but boldly cruised beneath it, surfacing occasionally to air the boat and charge batteries. He arrived in Norway on November 6, completing a nerve-racking voyage of ninety-three days.
Altogether, Schmoeckel in U-802 and Petersen in U-541 were at sea 213 days. The confirmed result was one small freighter (Livingston) sunk. The skippers were thwarted by Allied codebreakers and ASW forces. Despite this lack of success—and the sharply diminished traffic in the gulf with the onset of winter—Control was to mount many more IXC patrols to Canada. The mere presence of snort boats in the gulf caused consternation and embarrassment in Ottawa—and thus a propaganda victory of sorts in Berlin—and tied down Allied ASW forces and gave German submariners who were to cadre the electro boats combat and snort experience.
Seven Type IXs sailed directly from France to Norway:
• The IXC40 U-548, temporarily commanded by the old hand Günther Pfeffer, age twenty-nine, was the first big boat to evacuate. Commanded by Eberhard Zimmermann, age twenty-seven, she had made one ninety-six-day war patrol to Canada, arriving back in Lorient on June 24. During forty-nine days at Lorient, she was fitted with a snort, but due to the Allied invasion, Zimmermann and many crewmen were unable to get back to Lorient from leave in Germany. The boat sailed on August 11, manned by a scratch crew. In addition, she embarked about thirty other men, raising the sailing list to eighty-four, one of whom was lost over board en route.
The boat arrived in Bergen on September 25. Four days later she sailed in company with other boats for Flensburg, Germany, reassigned to a new outfit, Combat
Flotilla 33, created especially to administer the operations of Type IX U-boats that could not be refitted at any base in Norway. Her permanent skipper, Eberhard Zimmermann, and the other crew rejoined the boat; Pfeffer went to other duty. The boat did not resail for a war patrol until March 7, 1945, commanded by yet another skipper.
• The next boat to sail directly from Lorient to Norway was the veteran IXC40 U-190. She, too, had a new snort and a new skipper, Hans-Edwin Reith, age twenty-four, replacing Max Wintermeyer, who had gone to other duty.
Reith left Lorient on August 22 and arrived in Norway forty days later, on October 1. He went on to Flensburg with other boats, reassigned to Combat Flotilla 33. Reith retained command, but the boat did not resail for a war patrol until February
21, 1945.
• The third to sail from Lorient directly to Norway was the IXC40 U-853, commanded by Helmut Sommer, age twenty-nine. This new boat had made one weather patrol of sixty-six days in the North Atlantic. Homing on her reports, Allied aircraft from a MAC ship and from the “jeep” carrier Croatan had attacked and killed two men and wounded twelve and damaged the boat, forcing Sommer to abort to Lorient on July 3. During fifty-six days in that port, the boat got a new snort, but Sommer and some crew were unable to return from leave in Germany.
Dönitz appointed longtime commander of Combat Flotilla 10, Ritterkreuz holder Günter Kuhnke, to command the new Combat Flotilla 33 at Flensburg. Authorized to travel to Flensburg by U-boat, Kuhnke assumed temporary command of the U-853 and sailed on August 27, with nine extra passengers. After a voyage of forty-six days, he arrived in Norway on October 11. From there he went on to Flensburg and assumed command of Combat Flotilla 33 from its temporary commander, Ritterkreuz holder Georg Schewe. Commanded by yet another skipper, U-853 did not resail for a combat patrol until February 23, 1945.
• The IXC40 snort boat U-547, commanded by Heinrich Niemeyer, was the first of three Type IXs to leave Bordeaux. The boat had only just returned (August 11) from a snort patrol of 104 days, at the end of which she had incurred heavy damage from British mines in the Gironde River. There had been neither time nor labor nor spare parts to carry out proper repairs and a refit.
Harassed by Allied aircraft, on August 24*
Niemeyer sailed down the Gironde at night to open water, dodging mines. Most of the crew remained topside wearing life preservers, in case the boat hit a mine. Finally Niemeyer reached the open waters of the Bay of Biscay, rigged his snort, and headed for Norway by a safer route, far to westward. Along the way, the snort failed and exhaust gases felled many of the crew and passengers. After a miserable voyage of thirty-five days, Niemeyer reached Bergen on September 27. From there he joined other boats for the trip to Flensburg, where the boat also reported to Combat Flotilla 33, but she hit a British mine in the Baltic and made no more war patrols.